Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. g-bist, Proprietor. 1 JjnircptnbEnf Jfanulj) ffttosjJitpcr: jfor f|o ^promotion of f|t IJoIitkal, Jiotial, ^jriailtural anb Comtiierrial Jnftrtsls of % jsoutjj. j terms?$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. "YOL. 30. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 17, 1884. NO. 39. JWcrted focttg. THE BABY'S PRAYER. She knelt with her sweet hands folded; Her fair little head bowed low; While dead vines tapped at the window And the air was thick with snow. Without, earth dumb with winter; Within, hearts dumb with care; And up through the leaden silence Rose softly the baby prayer. ' "Bless all whom I love, dear Father, And help me be good," she said. Then, stirred by a sudden fancy, She lifted the shining head. * - Did she catch on the frozen maple " Some hint of the April green, Or the breath of the woodland blossoms, The drifts of the snow between? "The beautiful trees," she whispered, "Where the orioles used to sing ; They are tired of the cold, white winter, On! help them to grow in spring; And the flowers that I loved to gather, Lord, bring them again in May, The dear little violets, slewing 1SOWI1 Utwp III tuegruuuu iu-uoj . Ah y earth may be chill with snowflakes, And hearts may be cold with care, But wastes of a frozen silence Are crossed by the baby's prayer; *" And lips that were dumb with sorrow In jubilant hope may sing; For when earth is wrapped in winter, In the heart of the Lord 'tis spring. Seller. "OJfLT A MUSTER." Tregoze is a pleasant little Cornish village overlooking the "Western Sea." Everything there is rough and stony, and even the inhabitants are to all appearances as rough f and stony as their native rocks. But underneath those slaty fields lies the rich vein of metal, and in those rough Cornish hearts is a vein of human feeling and Christian charity, far, far purer than much that passes as such in the fashionable world, where tinkling bells daily summon rich dowagers to church in their gorgeous chariots. The children of Tregoze were tripping lightly to school after their holidays, along the hard, slaty paths. It was, indeed, with no "creeping like snail unwillingly to school" kind of motion on this occasion, as all were full of expectation, almost of joy, for they were to have that day a new mistress, one whom they all knew, one who had, in fact, been one of themselves. Margaret Powhele had been born in ? * ? - i - J -xx 5 ?3 XI Tregoze, wnere sne nau aiteuueu me suiuui, first as a pupil, and then as a pupil-teacher. Thence sne nad gone to the college in London, and, a vacancy having occurred, she had been appointed mistress down there in her own native village. Her father had worked there, man and boy, in the Tregoze mines for upward of forty years, and he still continued to follow this same occupation. The children, therefore, all knew Margaret. Their memories of her were pleasant, and hence they tripped joyously to school, where they admired their new mistress, who, in their eyes, was certainly as learned as the curate, and almost as wise as the vicar, beside being as pretty as a princess. When they, therefore, returned home at midday, many were the exclamations of "Isn't she pretty!" "Isn't she nice!" aud so on, among the youngsters; which exclamations generally called forth from the old people the remark, "I hope thee wool get vorrard i' thy lfirning,.'cause times be very hard for us poor volks." Many others beside the school-children were in love with Margaret, for she had budded into womanhood since she had left Tregoze, and now her beauty had taken the young men by surprise. For some time Margaret found it far from agreeable to have so many admirers, but by dint of good management, by the hilling off of those who felt they had "no chance," and through other circumstances, her circle of avowed adorers became reduced to two? Joseph Tregear and Tom Polglaze. Both of these young men were receiving good wages in the mines, and had opportunities of raising to higher positions as inspectors, and so forth ; both, too, were steady, and had saved a little money. It was long, however, before Margaret herself made it known which of them she preferred ; in fact, so far as that goes, neither could for a long time boast of t he smallest favor. Other girls called Margaret a flirt, but in j this they wronged her. The simple fact j was that Margaret, not yet tired of being her own mistress, endeavored so to order! her ways that neither Joseph Tregear, Tom Polglaze, nor any other suitor, might have the slightest reason to be jealous of a rival. Tregear, however, had the good sense to j see that neither he nor Polglaze was nearly j so well educated as Margaret, and he well j understood that it was a bad omen when the ! huahonrl horl lnnlr nn f-n thr* wifo in 1 matter of learning, lie accordingly bought books and became an earnest midnight student. In fact, he tried in every way to render himself Margaret Powhele's equal. Tom Polglaze, however, loved the fair teacher not a whit less than his rival, but he ' was formed in a rougher mold. lie scarce-; ly noticed the change in Tregear; but, if he did not, Margaret Powhele did, and she was ! highly gratified by it. "Joseph," said she to him one evening,! when he came to ask her to take a walk, j "you seem much changed lately; you are ' as little like a native of Tregoze as myself." "In what way, Margaret?" "You have lost that twang, and you seem to know something about the great world. Do you study ?" "Yes; I sit up every night to read or to work mathematics." "Why? What do vou want to be? A clerk?" "Margaret, I study only to be more like you ; I love you. Will you?" "There! Joseph Tregear! you study to be like me ? I am sure I never set you the example of talking such rubbish ! Ah! ah! Good-bye." So saying, off she tripped into the house, to his intense discomfiture. But was Margaret any the more happy than the lover sne had left so disconsolate in the street? That evening her parents noticed a great change in her, but could not discover the cause. She did not talk or take any food, but soon retired to her own little t room, complaining of headache. "I)o I love him?" she muttered, when; alone. "Poor fellow! he studied hard for my sake?to be more worthy of me, I sup-1 pose he calls it. Ah! Joseph, why did 11 leave you so abruptly? What a giddy, J worthless thing I am !" That night she could not sleep until she had decided upon a future course of action. The next day, being Saturday, Margaret - ^ i : .. I ,1 :,.u .spent Ht liome ill uuuscuuui cures, which i she shared with her mother; but she scarcely spoke a word all day. * In the evening she went to the draper's and bought a few ribbons and other little articles, for there was some object now in being pretty. On Sunday she appeared in church dressed with more than her usual I care; and she may be forgiven if she was not quite so attentive to the sermon as she ! should have been, for there, at a distance, Silt Joseph Treager, looking at her with his ! great blue eyes, making her blush and in-1 spiring her with a desire of sinking through the floor. On leaving the porch and dismissing her flock, Margaret found Joseph Tregearandl Tom Polglaze pretending to read the inscriptions on the tombs. At the sound of her step Tom raised his head and advanced with a friendly nod, while Joseph remained still, but fixed those great blue eyes on her. "Good morning Tom," she said indifferently. "How are you ?" Polglaze was replying as they neared Tregear, when Margaret stopped. Tregear still held back, trembling in his heart and apprehensive of his rival. Margaret, however, was so apparently calm that he was beginning to think her heart as hard as her native rocks, when, nodding an adieu to Polglaze, she very naturally and very quietly put her hand on Tregear's arm and said : "1 am very sorry I kept you waiting; I can now only spare you halt an hour for a walk." It was the first time she had ever shown a preference, and Polglaze now knew that he, too, was "out of the race." His face changed to an ashen hue, and he tottered off with dejected looks but with clenched fists. Tregear squeezed the small hand that had been so unexpectedly put on his arm, and led Margaret away for the promised walk, which, need scarcely be said, was unconsciously lengthened into an hour. When Margaret once more arrived under her parents' roof it was not alone that she came. Henceforth, another had also a right to join her there. Tregear knew the price that must be paid for Margaret's love. He knew that Polglaze would not give her up without a con rest. Nor was it long before the battle was commenced, for that very evening as Tregear was leaving the house of the Powheles, he was attacked by his rival. With him it was but a word and a blow. "Joe Tregear, you've crossed my steps and now I'll be revenged on you!" So saying, Polglaze struck a blow which would have felled an ordinary man. But Tregear was quite a match for him, and the two fought long and desperately, until separated by a rural policemen, who threatened them with legal proceedings. Of course Margaret was one of the first to hear of the battle. Distressed beyond measure, she went to her lover's parents, where she found him in a most unpresentable condition. A few words soon explained the position of affairs, when Margaret burst into tears, and blamed herself for showing her preference so stupidly. "Margaret," replied her lover, "do not take it to heart. I'd rather be fighting him again than see your tears." "Leave me alone a minute. Let me overcome this." "Yes, dear heart!" said Mrs. Tregear, "Don't you take on in this way. These tinmen are regular vighters; but this Tom Polglaze is the mortaciousest vighter that ever I zee." "Yes, Margaret, that't true. I knew that the day I gained your love I should find an enemy. But cheer up, cheer up! I fancy he will not attack me again in a hurry, for I know that he does not at this moment look a bit handsomer than I do." * 1 ' -i xi? And so saying ne mugneu inc intuitu lightly away, until Margaret, too, began to smile through her tears. On the following day, when the two rivals went to the mine, their appearance caused many jeering, contemptuous remarks, for the tinmen were in hopes of goading them on to renew the battle. Polglaze had, however, found an adversary worthy of his strong arm, and was not so ready to strike the first blow as he had been the night before. He contented himself, therefore, with doubling his fists and saying that the time of vengeance would come. Months passed away, however; Tregoze recovered from its unwonted excitement, and matters took their usual course. The 1 mines were worked, old seams were used up, and new veins opened out but, though the battle had not been renewed, Joseph Tregear and Tom Polglaze had not yet skaken hands. This caused Margaret no small anxiety, 1 for down there in the bowels of the earth an : unseen blow with a pick might destroy the happiness of her life. She often begged Tregear to leave the mines, but he said lie had good prospects of being appointed engi neer's assistant, and as for Tom Polglaze's threat, why, he had not the slighest anxiety on account of that. At length a new shaft was to be opened, and the two young men, being the steadiest hands in the mine, were selected for the operation. There they toiled together for a few weeks without exchanging a word, and they were alone, far from any other workmen. Margaret was wretched, but to all her supplications Tregear still said that he had no fear. In her distress she spoke to Polglaze and asked him to shake hands with Tregear. He refused, but he pressed his rough hand. to his temples and said: "I loved you then, I love you now, as much or more than Joe Tregear." A day or two after that both men were again at work together, and silent as death in their solitary shaft. They were sudden* ' ??1 * ? ^ l - ? ~ A fntir 1 n rvc I ly starueu uy a lamu^ ium|w of earth then came tumbling down, and the whole shaft seemed to tremble. The works were giving way. The two men looked at one another for a moment, 1 with blanched faces. It was the first time they had looked into one another's eyes since that fatal day, except to dart glances of scorn and hate. They ran to the kebble and gave the signal to be drawn up. They were touching one another now, their hands almost clasped together on the rope. Their very breath seemed to intermingle. It was terri- j' ble after such a course of hate to be brought j together under these circumstances. As they were both shouting to be drawn i' up, the rope tightened and strained, but the j' kebble would not move. More earth now j fell, but still the kebble remained at the j! bottom of the shaft. While shouting louder and louder for: help, the terrible truth flashed through ' their minds that there was only one man at ! the windlass, and that he alone was unable j to raise them both, and all this time theshaft j was trembling and earth and stones falling. As they stood there in the kebble, their bodies and hands touching, and glancing, into one another's eyes, the awful thought came to both in an instant that one of them must die?must die to save the other?his enemy. One of them must die! But who should it be? They again looked atone another, j and there was an eternity in the glance. Then one of them let go the rope and dropped out of the kebble, which imtnediately began to rise. Who was it? The willing martyr was | Tom Polglaze. "Toll Margaret,"?he shouted, as the kebble rose above his head?"tell Margaret I did it to save her pain?to save you, whom she loves! I forgive you, but be sure and I be good to?" The shaft gave way and nothing present ed itself to Tregear's gaze hut a mass of,1 slate and rubbish. Tom Polglaze was in eternity?as noble a ' soul as ever died for any cause that is dear j to man, as devoted as any martyr, as gen- j erous-souled as any patriot, though only a poor miner. It was long before Joseph Tregear and Margaret Powhele recovered from that j shock. They mourned the brave dead as a brother, and a neat little stone, overlooking ' the village-churchyard, long afterward reminded the tinmen of Tregoze of the noble deed of self sacrifice of a hero who was one of themselves.?C/iarles Jieade. Stokiks of tiie Bah.?At a dinner given ! by the late Judah P. Benjamin to Mr. Ev-; arts, Benjamin mentioned, apjopos of the : interruptions of Judges, that in an argu-. tnent before the House of Lords, a very :1 learned member of that body, having fre-, quently interposed, at last met a proposition ! i of his with the ejaculation "Monstrous!" on which Mr. Benjamin tied up his papers, bowed and retired. The noble lord subse-! quently sent a public conciliatory message, [ and made every possible reparation. Mr. Evarts capped this story with one from this j side of the water. A lawyer who had often | been interrupted in a difficult case stopped, and, facing the bench, said: "I have told your Honors that this is a puzzling case, and I am afraid it will be made even more so if your Honors put questions more puzzliiig*than the facts themselves." (fflmgu ?0mjS|r0itd?ttcc. LETTER FROM BELFAST. THE PAN-PRESBYTERIAN COUNCIL. A Succinct and Interestlm/ Sketch of the Religious Alliance now in Session at Belfast. Correspondence of the Yorkville Enquirer. Belfast, Ireland, June 27.?On Tuesday, at 11 A. M., the Third Pan-Presbyterian Council met in St. Enoch's Church, Belfast, Ireland. Since a very large number of the readers of the Enquirer are not Presbyte^ rians, "Pan-Presbyterian Council" may be only a combination of words to which they may be unable, without an explanation, to attach any meaning. It is also fair to conclude that those readers of the Enquirer who are not Presbyterians are desirous to learn something of the origin of the PanPresbyterian Council, and also of the purpose which this council is expected to fulfil. "Pan-Presbyterian Council" means a council composed of all the Presbyterians in the world. The object which it is designed to accomplish by this Pan-Presbyterian Council, is to unite the whole Presbyterian :1" {? fti?.onin h/-,rl\r Thia iu fho ItllLIIl.y 111 UUC Ul^UiJiv wvvij 4^ V**V primary and ultimate thing in view, but it is not expected that this can be accomplished at once ; and it is possible that such a union may never be effected. The immediate efforts of the council are directed to the discovering how far, and in what the different branches of the Presbyterian family agree, and in what and to what extent they disagree, and what may be the importance of their disagreements. There are in the world sixty-three Christian denominations which are capable of being grouped into one family. In some cases the resemblance is scarcely discernible; in others it is as clear and distinct as unity of doctrine and sameness of the mode of worsh ip can make it. They all adopt the doctrines which were promulgated by the Reformers, and are Presbyterian in their form of church government. In some cases the Presbyterianism is of a rather obscure and hard-to-be discovered kind ; still, it is Presbyterian. Here it may be remarked that genuine Presbyterianism is distinguished by the following features: 1st. The Bible is the only rule of faith and practice. 2nd. All preachers are on a par ; or in other words there are 110 orders among the preachers. It has other distinguishing features, but these two are sufficient to mark it. By the first it restricts itself to the Bible in every thing pertaining to the worship 01 uoti, both as to the matter and manner of worship. In genuine Presbyterianism the Bible is everything, both in doctrine and in worship. Expediency and human wisdom are nothing. Other books may and do edify ; the Bible edifies and is a book of laws. The object of the Pan-Presbyterian Council is, as already stated, to unite in one organic body all these Presbyterian bodies first, and then to unite all Christians of every name together under Christ the head. Here it may be remarked that this is no new idea. It is as old as the first reformation from popery, and found a warm and earnest?we may say enthusiastic?advocate in the celebrated John Calvin. In 1552 he wrote to Archbishop Cranmer that he would readily cross ten seas in order to be instrumental in uniting the body of Christ which is torn asunder. One object of the Scotch Commissioners who attended the Westminster Assembly was to unite all Protestants in the world into one organic body. The first object they and the other members of the Westminster Assembly designed to effect, was the uniting of all the Protestants in England, Ireland and Scotland into one organic body. For this purpose mainly the Westminster Confession of Faith was framed, and for this purpose the Solemn League and Covenant was entered into by great numbers of all classes of the people of England and Scotland. The idea of a "Universal Kirk" has been a leading feature of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland since the days of the famous John Knox. The authors of the Second book of Discipline, after enumerating the various courts proper to the Presbyterian Church of any particular country, mention another court which they say "may be called properly the General Assembly, or General Council of the whole Kirk of God." It is explained to bo a general council of the Universal Church of Christ. Although the idea of a General Council of all the Reformed Churches had a prominent place in the minds of the leading Reformers, God, in his providence, saw fit to surround those men whom he selected with so many and so great difficulties to free his church from the superstitions of popery, that no general council could meet during the reformation period. When the ardor of the reformation had cooled down, nothing, at least very little, was heard of a General Council for a period of about three hundred years. In May, 18G8, Professor Macgregor, of Edinburgh, Scotland, published an article in which he suggested the desirableness of holding a council of all those Christian demoninations who have adopted Presbyterian standards. This General Council, Professor Macgregor, suggested, should meet once in five, ten or twenty years alternately, at Edinburgh, London and Xew York. Previous to 18G8 the idea of a Pan-Presbyterian council had began to absorb the attention of Rev. Dr. James McCosh, of Princeton, and in 1870, he began to give publicity to his opinions on the subject. Other individuals began to discuss the subject, and in February, 1873, Rev. Dr. Knox, of Belfast, brought the matter, by overture, before the General Assembly of the Irish Presbyterian Church, and in May of the same year a similar overture was brought by Rev. Dr. Nicol Is before the Northern branch of the Presbyterian Church in the United States. Both these overtures met with the cordial approval of the Assemblies to which they were presented. The idea of a Pan-Presbyterian Council or Alliance began now to assume the practical features of a living reality. In the autumn of 1873 the Evangelical Alliance met at New York. A number of ministers and elders, in connection with the various branchesof the Presbvterian Church, while attending the sessions of the Evangelical Alliance met, and after a comparison of views, unanimously adopted the following resolutions: 1. That Whereas, the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, and the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of Ireland, at their last meetings, passed resolutions in favor of an (Ecumenical Council of Presbyterian Churches, we, providentially brought together at this timo, and belonging to various branches of the Presbyterian family, cordially sympathize with these movements toward a General Council of the Presbyterian Churches in various lands. That a Committee be appointed to correspond with individuals and with organized bodies, in order to ascertain the feeling of Presbyterians in regard to such Federal Council, and to take such measures as may, in their judgment, promote this object. .'5. That this Committee be authorized to cooperate, as far as possible, with the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, and with the Committee of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America. The committee contemplated in the second of these resolutions was appointed, and by this committee an address was issued and sent to all the Presbyterian organizations. In 1874 the subject of a Pan-Presbyterian Council was discussed in the church courts. It was soon discovered that the various members of the Presbyterian family in America were heartily in favor of an (Ecumenical Council of all the Presbyterian Churches in the world. The matter continued to bo discussed in all sections of the world where Presbyterianism has an existence. By a resolution adopted at a meeting held in New York, a preparatory meeting of the committees of all the churches was called at London, in 1875. This preparatory meeting convened in the English Presbyterian College, Guilford street, London, on the 21st of July, 1875. This preparatory conference, which consisted of one hundred and one delegates, sixtyfour of whom were present, spent two days in arranging a constitution for the proposed Presbyterian Council. The constitution being arrauged, it was agreed that the first meeting of the Conference be held in Edinburgh, Scotland, on July 4th, 187G. In deference to American Presbyterians the meeting was postponed until July 3rd, 1877, the reason for the change of time being the fact that 1870 was the Centennial of American Independence. The first Pan-Presbyterian Council met in Edinburgh on July 3rd, 1877 ; the second met at Philadelphia, Pa., on the 23rd of September, 1880. The Constitution of the Pan-Presbyterian Council consists of a Ereamble and four articles. In the preamle it is stated that there are churches in nearly every section of the world which, although holding the Reformed faith and organized on Presbyterian principles, are at present united by no visible bond, either of fellowship or work. Some of these churches, it is stated,^elfe at onetime closely allied and that the time seems to have arrived for all of them to more fully manifest their essential oneness. The second article of the Constitution states the condition of membership as follows: "Any Ghurch organized on Presbyterian principles which holds the Supreme authority of the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments in matters of faith and morals, and whoso creed is in harmony with the consensus of the Reformed Confessions, shall be elligible for admission into the Alliance." It is evident to any one that by the churches thus admitted into the Alliance there is presented every possible phase of Presbyterianisin. It is not extravagant to say that ' DnM D??Aok?f^AM'nn Pnnno? 1 n Y+VfUYlOQ Jill lilt! X iWJ-Jl JCOUJ ItlJlUl vjuuuv.il v/.vviuiuvi; meet. For the comfort of the delegates to the present meeting of the Council the people of Belfasthave made grand preparation. The church in which the Council meets is of large proportions, and finished, both inside and outside, in the most exquisitely beautiful style. The opening sermon of the Alliance was preached by Rev. Dr. Watts, of Belfast, by whom the Council was constituted. It would be utterly impossible to give in any reasonable space even an epitome of the proceedings. Such being the case, I shall confine myself to those things which strike me most forcibly. In the Pan-Presbyterian Council a good opportunity is afforded of discovering national characteristics. It would not be correct or even approximating correctness, to say that the representatives of all nationalities are in the Pan-Presbyterian Council. Still the delegates come from regions far separated from each other and speak different languages. The peculiarities of the American, of the Scotchman, and of the Irishman, are constantly seen. In political meetings and in ecclesiastical courts there are generally a few individuals who seem to think that it belongs to them to do all the speaking. Asa rule, the.se great babblers are great pests. In the Pan-Presbyterian Council there are some men who talk too much, unless they would talk better. The Americans are decidedly the best speakers, the Irish next, and then come the Scotch. The delegates belonging to other nationalities have rarely anything to say. The members of the Council are lodged in the families of the town. With these families they breakfast and sup, but all dine together in Ulster Hall. The dinner is all that hungry men desire. The hour of dining is 4.30. On Saturday the whole Council will be taken to the Giant's Causeway. R. Lathan. INHABITANTS OF THE BLOOD. One of the great facts of the outer world is the perpetual circulation of water, and the absolute dependence on it of every living thing. This water passes up from the vast invisible ocean below to the vast invisible ocean above, thence down in showers and back in rivers, brooks and rills, to whence it came. So the whole animate world is equally dependent on an analogous circulation of blood from the heart, through large streams and microscopic rills, to every part and point of the body, and back again to the ever-heaving heart through similar streams and rills. This blood is the water of life to the body, containing within itself, in due proportion, all the elements of the latter for its upbuilding with power to rid itself of all waste matter and to renew itself perpetually. Yet, as the ocean and rivers support a life of their own in the fishes that swarm them, and in the plants that grow on their beds, so, in some sort, it is with the circulating vital fluid. Countless microscopic plants live, multiply and die within it in endless succession, without disturbing the health of the body; while others may from time to time gain admittance, bringing disease with them. Even the former, it is now believed, may lose their harmless character in certain morbid changes in the blood. The great lifecurrent may also become "stocked?"as we say of rivers and lakes?with microscopic animals. Says Dr. Cobbold, F. R. S.: "There is no class of creatures, from the mollusc upwards, in which parasites may not be found in the organs of circulation." True fnematozoa (blood animals) have been found circulating in the blood of frogs and fishes, and even in the heart of the former. Dr. Hanson dissected some thirty to forty magpies, and in every instance found quantities of them. The hearts of cetacea (of the whale species), seals and dogs are sometimes found stuffed with worms. One-third of the pariah dogs of India are believed to contain htematozoa; and so, according to Cobbold, do ninety per cent, of all the adult horses of Europe, and probably every full-grown ass in Great Britain. One-third of the natives of Egypt are similarly affected. Whether the health shall be injured by them depends mainly on their number and the general condition of the health otherwise. It is a singular fact that some of these luematozoa live in the circulating blood during the waking hours, and retire to the tissues during sleep.? Youth's Companion. Wiping Out a Regiment.?Any time during the war, after the beginning of IStJ.'I, it would have been hard to find a regiment in the field numbering its full complement of one thousand men. There were many Kr****l-i nf r?r*f ?yioro flinn tlirnr* Having <1, Olicugllt V/* uvw uiuiv t.iivu I...AVV hundred and fifty or four hundred, particularly on the Confederate side. In various severe encounters regiments were decimated, and in some cases lost half their strength, but it was rarely that a body was so completely wiped out that there was nothing to rally on. At the battle of Pleasant Hills, La., a Texas cavalry regiment, numbering three hundred and forty-eight men, were seen forming for a charge against a Federal brigade of infantry. The latter had good cover and were fresh. The cavalry had to dash across a field to reach the line, and before they came the commander of the brigade passed along behind his two lines and ordered his men to hold their fire until the word was given. Each pair were instructed to fire at one cavalryman?or, rather, one at the man and the other at the horse. The cavalry made the charge in one line, but it was so much shorter than the front of the brigade that three fires could be concentrated. The Confederates came forward with a dash and a yell, keeping a pretty even front until they were within one hundred feet of the line when all the muskets rang out together. One volley was enough. That regiment was so nearly blotted off the face of the earth that only four of its members returned to the Confederate lines. Over two hundred horses were killed outright, and at least another hundred wounded. There were not ten wounded men to pick up. Every Federal had a dead aim and a close target.?M. Quad. figsT It may be interesting to beer drinkers to learn that excessive indulgence in lieor tends to heart disease. IWiscfUaueous ftcadiug. "THE HOMING FACULTY." ANIMALS THAT REACH TIIEIIt HOMES MILES AWAY. The homing faculty, as by common consent it is called, is, with a few exceptions among wild animals, confined to the higher bred domestic animals. It is strongest, perhaps, in the carrier pigeon. The ordinary carrier pigeon manages to get home from a distance of forty miles. The finer bred variety, particularly the Bolgian bird, can be loosed at a much greater distance and will reach its house. The finer and coarser varieties go about it the same way. Thrown into the air they mount to a great height, circling about in spirals until suddenly they start off in a certain direction, and that direction is home. Their speed is startling and far swifter than the fastest railway train. These birds, there is no doubt, rely on sight entirely. Few persons realize how far the eye can see at great distances in the air, or how keen is the eye of all birds. IT'S!! n n-nn4- in +lin A nrlflo Vnf o cnonl" motr jvni iv gvai/ in ung ^vnviv>o. *c .j|/vv>u iiiivj cloud the blue vault above, and half an hour later a flock of condors will be disputing over its remains. The pigeon flies round and round, higher and higher until it sights some well remembered object, inaybe a steeple or a tree, that is its guide-post. But pigeons sometimes lose their way, gee "turned around" in lact. Frequently a snowcovered landscape blots out all objects they remember, and the confused bird flutters helplessly to the earth. But by what means does the albatross, which idly floats behind a ship on the ocean for hours and hours, find its way to the rocky isle, perhaps hundreds of miles distant, on which is its nest ? Or the frigate bird, how does it know what path to take across midocean to get home ? What marks does it have for a guide ? These are hard questions to answer, and shake the theory of sight and remembered objects. So, also, is it difficult to understand how the salmon every year comes back from the deeps of the ocean to the river in which it was born. Or how the bee, when its load of nectar is complete, 4-s\ ifo hltro in o i'Koo linn 11 Ultra auaigUL iu no ill vc in UV/V niivi Less than twenty years ago, when the whole subject began to be widely discussed, the London Field gave a large number of well-authenticated instances of the homing faculties in dogs. It seems to be very highly developed in the canine race. Among the best of these is an instance of a foxhound, which was taken in a covered van from one part of England to another, forty miles distant. Arriving at her destination, she was kept chained for four days, then hunted with the pack. Returning home late in the evening, the huntsmen observed her sit down in a field, look gravely around for a few moments, and then disappear. Search was made for her without success. The following morning her former owner telegraphed that Precious had turned up at her old home about midnight. She had traveled about forty-five milesof rough, lonely country, passing through a populous town, in less than eight hours. Another good story in the same paper was of a pointer dog taken by an officer from Liverpool to Belfast, and thence after a day or two fifty miles into the interior of Ireland. The dog had never been in Ireland before, but the morning after his departure appeared wagging his tail and tired and footsore at the barracks in Belfast. A very intelligent sheep dog was taken from Birmingham to Wolverton in a covered wagon, not being allowed to look out during the journey. The first night he escaped, and twenty-four hours after appeared at his old home, his feet bleeding and himself very much fatigued. Another bright-eyed colly was taken from Manchester to Liverpool by train and thence to Bangor, in Wales, by steamer, Pie, too, escaped and four days later entered his well-remembered kennel in the north. Still another story was of a little terrier which a mechanic living in Holywell, Wales, visiting his mother in Manchester, took to his home in a basket. In making the journey the young man traveled by train, wagon, steamer and afoot, both by day and night. The dog escaped from him at Holywell and somehow managed to get over this complicated route to his Manchester home. This strangest story in this class of literature was furnished by a Scottish gentleman whose credibility the editor of the Field vouched for. The narrator, who lived in the north of Scotland, related that a friend of his residing in Calcutta had several months before written requesting him to send out a good colly dog. He had duly sent the dog by steamer from Bristol. What was his astonishment a few weeks later to behold one morning the little fellow enter his house wagging his tail in a transport of joy to be home again. Inquiry elicited the information that the dog had come aboard a Dundee collier from a ship hailing from Calcutta. Later a letter came from his friends in India that the dog had arrived there safely, but had disappeared soon after. This incident and that of the mechanic's dog gave rise to the greatest discussion at the time of any in the whole collection of incidents. The two also drew forth a theory which is probably the true one, namely, that the two animals in getting home were guided by their sense of smell. A dog's nose, especially a high-bred dog's, is extraordinarily keen. In the case of the little fellow who managed to travel half the earth's circumference, it was suggested that finding himself kidnapped the idea how to escape took possession of him. lie carefully noted, labeled and stored away in his meinery every smell along the route. This, the theorist contended, explained his land journey. But after getting through the crowded streets of the Indian city to the docltSj how he selected the proper vessel out 01 the scores lying at anchor there, is more difficult to account for. "I suggest, says the writer, that the little animal had taken note of the rigging of the vessel in which he came over, and was guided in that way to the right ship; or, perhaps, the familliar Scotch accent of a sailor aboard helped him here, as it undoubtedly did in boarding the collier at Dundee. But I would prefer to leave to others the task of explaining how the little dumb creature unhesitatingly boarded a ship out of a fleet bound for his home, I confess I cannot." A French writer, whose name has escaped the writer hereof, seized upon this incident to support his assertion that animal's faculties are much better developed than admitted. lie declared they have a language. A newspaper writer of a few years ago, describing the stampede of two mules of a pack-train on the plains, gravely declares his hnh'pf in flin Froncbninn's :issortinn. The mules in question were the ugliest, most evil tempered of the entire train. They were continually biting and kicking each other, ancl in every way behaving as open enemies. One evening they were observed in close conference, their heads together and ears bent down. The consultation lasted half an hour, at the end of which the pair started on a headlong gallop across the rolling prairie. They were found at Itawlins, nearly a hundred miles distant, in their old stalls, quietly munching hay and enjoying the comforts of home-life Now these two runaways had boldly undertaken the journey home over a pathless wilderness, and, moreover, accomplished it. An Australian gentleman contributes his story of the horning faculty. A quiet, steadygoing old horse, which had fed upon his ran for two years, pricked up his ears one day and dashed through the bush that a savage could hardly traverse to the run of his former master. Here memory was certainly exercised; but how did the horse know that through the bush lay the shortest path, and knowing, how did he pick his way through the tangled undergrowth, fallen trees, brush, ravines and pitfalls? Ahorse is generally accorded superior intelligence, and, ditlicult as the feat appears, it looks easier than that of a flock of ducks which was published a. few weeks ago. I n a tight ly-closed crate they were carried from one farm on Long Island to another twenty miles away. They could not possibly see the landmarks along the route taken. But they found their way home again, and, as their wings were clipped, they had evidently walked the entire distance. Judge if the farmer did not feed and care for his returned feeble quacking friends. How animals get home becomes more difficult to answer when one reads about a kitten six days old, taken from one part of London to another, which got home safely, escaping the countless dangers of crowded streets, or of another youthful cat carried in a flour bag across the bush in Australia, and that turned up at its birthplace the next morning, or of similar instances which might be multiplied ad infinitum. It is a puzzle that theories do not elucidate, and that every fresh illustration deepens.?InterOcean. Suicide and Sleeplessness.?The circumstances attending the recent death of the Dean of Bangor?albeit they are infinitely distressing?present no novel features. The reverend gentleman, according to the Lancet, was a man of considerable intellectual "power," which is the same thing as saying that he was constitutionally liable to intervals of mental depression. All highly intellectual men are exposed to this evil. A pendulum will always swing just as far in one direction as it does in the other. Great power of mind implies also great weakness under certain conditions. The marvel is not that great minds occasionally become deranged, but that they so often escape derangement. Sleeplessness means not merely unrest, but starvation of the cerebrum. The brain cannot recuperate, or, in other words, it cannot rest. Physiologically, recuperation and rest are the same thing. Sleep is simply physiological rest. The only cause for regret in these is that the blunder should ever be committed of supposing that a stupefying drug which throws the brain into a condition that mimics and burlesques sleep can do good. It is deceptive to give narcotics in a case of this type. The stupor simply masks the danger. Better far let the insomnious patient exhaust himself than stupefy him. Chloral, bromide, and the rest of the poisons that produce a semblance of sleep are so many snares in such ! cases. Sleeplessness is a malady of the most formidable character, but it is not to be treated by intoxicating the organ upon which the stress of the trouble falls. Suicide, which occurs at the very outset of derangement and is apt to appear a sane act, is the logical issue of failure of nutrition that results from want of sleep. It is curious to note how a sleepless patient will set to work with all the calmness and forethought of intelligent sanity to compass his death. He is not insane in any technical sense. He has no delusion. He does notact, or suppose himself to act, under an "influence." He simply wants to die, and perhaps, not until after he has made an attempt to kill himself will he exhibit any of the formulated symptoms of t mental disease. Dusting Rooms.?Dust contains poisonous substances which are injurious to the lungs and prejudicial to the health, and after every room has been swept it should be removed by taking a dampened cloth and wiping off every corner of the chairs, tables and book cases, and every bit of carved work. Our sleeping apartments are so often filled with dust that they are stifling to one who is accustomed to a well dusted and well-aired chamber. The maid will probably hasten through the work of cleaning and sweeping rapidly without the aid of tea leaves, or bits of wet paper, or very fine shavings moistened to keep the dust in abeyance until it can be removed, and often the opening of one window will be thought all-sufficient, while two are most essential. Then let the dust have at least fifteen or twenty minutes in which to settle, and carefully wipe away every particle, shaking the duster out of the open window now ana then. The bedsteads should be wiped off with a damp cloth, and the carpet under the bed be thoroughly swept. The pillows I. ?..]* ] lv<-v <-> I ?-* 4- 4-V?/\ M/lntitfi uiiu uujsici snuuiu uc micu ai tuc niuuuws and if the bed can be thrown on top of a clean veranda ronrin the sunshine, so much the better. I took a bit of dust off the top of my book-shelf the other day, moistened it with a drop of water, and examined it under my microscope. What do you think I found? Dirt? \es, plenty of dirt. There was the debris of *ick and stone pounded and ground by h >rses and wagons from the pavement. Theie was dried epithelia from plaids, minute specks of wood, hairs, particles of co*tcn, woolen and linen from the clothing, a piece of dead fly, and millions of micrococi, which in a little while began to expand and wiggle about full of life. These living organisms, for aught I know, may have been the germs of disease, such as measles, diphtheria or consumption. If we dust a room with a duster, they rise in the air and may enter the lungs and do a great deal of harm. For this reason it is better to wipe them up and do our dusting in the way we have described.?Dio Lewis. Eccentric People.?Half the people who are called eccentric deserve to have a much worse epithet applied to them. Here and there a man or woman is found whose oddities of opinion and erratic conduct are genuine, and the outcome of some real inborn twist in their mental and moral disposition. Such persons a re generally tolerable, and sometimes very likable, their idiosyncrasies serving as a gentle entertainment rather than as an annoyance to us. We feel that they are quite unaware of their own queerness, which is the result of a native incapacity to comprehend the ordinary conventions of society. But there are other people whose eccentricities are not, or ought not, to be endured. They are not innocently ignorant, but wilfully disregardful of a reign of law in the social world. The world's judgments are no doubt superficial, and therefore very commonly defective or false; but the world's conventions?that is, its rules tacitly agreed on for the preservation of the order and decency of social intercourse?are on the whole respectable and to be observed. But the unendurable "eccentric" prides himself upon beinga law to himself in these matters. He likes to know that his acquaintance are saying of him, "Oh, that is Mr. B.'s way, ycru know. He is not like other people; he always does and says just what he pleases." And the notable fact is that so many persons are imposed on by this absurd affectation that they will let certain behavior pass for independence and originality which is nothing but simple rudeness, the expression of egotism andillbreeding.?July Atlantic. What is Made from Paper.?One of the most remarkable uses which paper has been put to of late years is the manufacture of xylonite, a substance which, at the will of the manufacturer, may be made in imitation of horn, rubber, ivory, tortoise-shells, amber and even glass. The uses to which xylonite are adaptable are almost infinite, but perhaps the most extraordinary is the manufacture of cathedral windows. The discovery was made about fifteen years ago, but it is only within the last two years that a company has been formed for its manufacture. The basis of xyloniteisa plain white tissue paper made from cotton or cotton and linen rags. The paper is treated first to a > bath of sulphuric and other acids, undergoing a chemical change. The acid is then carefully washed out and the paper treated f with another preparation of alcohol and < camphor, assuming an appearance very much like parchment. It is then capable of I being worked into plates of any thickness, rendered almost perfectly transparent, or < given any ofthebrilliantcolorsthatsilk will : take. It is much more flexible than horn or 1 ivory and less brittle. Combs or other arti- ' cles made in imitation of tortoise-shell are i said to be so perfect in appearance as to de- | ceive the eye of the most practiced work- < man in that substance. The difference in ] the material can he detected only by tests. 1 A SOFT ANSWER. Wrath is cruel and anger is outrageous, but a soft answer turneth away wrath, while grievous words stir up an^er. Wrath disturbs the soul and hides the beautiful face of Truth, which is perfectly reflected only in still waters. It clouds the eye of reason and makes the light in the soul darkness. Hence he that is slow to wrath is of great understanding, and he that by a soft answer turneth away wrath confers upon him whose wrath is turned away an inestimable benefit. One would think that when so great a good could be so easily done, doers of such good would never be wanting, but soft answers are costly; they come from hearts that have learned lessons of sorrow and pain and conquest over self. It is easy to "mass the elements of discontent," to raise rebellious revolutions, strikes, wars and tumults, but few are the voices that can with authority rebuke the winds of passion, com manu tne waves 01 ieenng 10 ue sun, anu turn away the wrath of the multitude. Such voices we need in the family, in society, in the Church, in the State. The small trials of life are hardest to bearThere is something in the grandeur of a great tragedy that lifts the soul above the reach of petty trials, but a grain of sand in the eye, a pebble in the shoe, a fly, a mosquito, a teasing child, sometimes vanquishes the stoutest heart. Life is full of these little frets. How does a soft answer, a kindly tone, a sympathizing manner, smooth these rough places and lubricate the creaking machinery of daily life! The human heart is a wondrous mixture of diverse elements. Blind instinct and blinder appetite clamor for satisfaction; the fires of passion flame up at a breath, and how often by usurping wrath and pride is Reason driven from her throne! But a soft answer, like oil on the troubled waters, assuages the tumult and places again in the hands of Reason her scepter. Under many a calm exterior what sufferings are concealed, what rooted sorrows dwell in the recesses of the soul, sorrows shared with no one. Few are Wie hearts that have not some secret sorrow ; it may be a congenital taint, an inherited tendency, a sense of forfeited self-respect, a neglected opportunity, an irreparable loss. To all such hearts how grateful, how healing, are soft answers, gentle words, kindly ministrations. We often call those cross who are only sad; and, it may be, because there are none to speak to them words of peace and love, words of hope and cheer. A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver. To many a hireling words of kindness are. more precious than the wages he earns, necessary as these are to keep soui and body together. The kindly words keep the soul itself from disintegration and despair. There are times when noble words of indignation and rebuke are called for; there iiui^ uu uihl'3 ? ucii swui anu wuiciuui/ deserved. But when erring men ana women sit in judgment on their fellows, let them who will need mercy forget not to show mercy. "There is forgiveness with thee that thou mayest be feared." Those who have drunk the deepest of the cup of sorrow, who have had the largest experience of life, who have observed most widely and studied most deeply the mysteries of human nature and human life, are most pitiful, most long-suffering and forbearing. They hesitate to pronounce judgment, they are most ready to pardon the erring, to give hope to the penitent, to trust that "somehow good will be the final end of it." Their knowledge and experience produce in them a constant disposition to be lenient, patient, and to give a soft answer to every suffering fellow being.?New York Tribune. Regularity op Habit.?One of the most difficult of all the minor habits to acquire is that of regularity. It ranks with that of order. "A place for everything and everything in its place" is not more important than "a time for all things and everything on time." The natural inclination of most persons is to defer until the last possible moment or to put off till another time, w here this can possibly be done. Yet habits of regularity contribute largely to the ease and comfort of life. A person can multiply his efficiency by it. W e know persons who have a multitude of duties, and who perform a vast deal of work daily, who set apart certain hours for given duties, and are there at the moment and attend rigidly to what is in hand. This done and other engagements are met, each in order, and a vast deal accomplished, not by strained exertion, but by regularity. The mind can be so trained to this and that at certain hours in the day it will turn to a particular line of duty, and at other hours to other and different labors. The very diversity is restful when attended to in regular order. But let these be run together, and the duties mixed, and what be tore was easy is now annoying anu oppressive. And the exact difference between many is just at this point. There are those who confuse and rush and attempt to do several things at once and accomplish little, while another will quietly proceed from one duty to another, and easily accomplish a vast amount of work. The difference is not in the capacity of the two, but in the regular methods of the one, as compared with the irregular and confused habits 01 the other.?Philadelphia Call. Why Eyes Shine.?Dr. Swan M. Burnet says in Popular Science Monthly : Place a child (because the pupils of children are large,) and by preference a blonde, at a distance of ten or fifteen feetfrom a lamp which is the only source of light in a room, and cause it to look at some object in the direction of the lamp, turning the eye you wish to look at slightly inward toward the nose. Now, put your own eye close behind the lamp flame, with a card between it and the flame. If you will then look close by the edge of the flame covered by the card into the eye of the child, you will see, instead of a perfectly black pupil a reddish-yellowcircle. If the eye happens to be hypermetropic, you will be able to see the red reflex when your own eye is at some distance to one side of the flame. This is the true explanation of the luminous appearance of the eyes of some animals when they are in comparative obscurity. It is simply the light reflected from the bottom of their eyes, which is generally of a reddish tinge on account of the red blood in the vascular layer of the choroid back of the semi-transparent retina, and not light that is regenerated there at all. This reflection is most apparent when the animal is in obscurity, but the observer must be in the light and somewhat in the relative position indicated in the above described experiment?that is, the eye of the observer must be on the same line with the light and the observed eye. The eyes of nearly all animals are hypermetropic, most of them very highly so, so that they send out the rays of light which have entered them in a very diverging manner. The Art of Sewing.?The art of sewing has been known from a very remote period, as is shown by the tact that bone needles have been found among the oldest remains of the Swiss lake dwellings, and in the caves of France and Great Britain which were frequented by man during the * reindeer age. Some of those early needles were perforated in the middle?which was the thickest part?and others were pierced at the larger end. A French cavern has yielded needles much superior to those of the ancient Gauls and to the ivory needles of the modern Esquimaux, especial skill having been applied to the boring of the eyes, which must have been done with a fine flint drill. The Swiss lake dwellers used linen thread ar bark fibre for sewing, and made garments from woven fabrics of linen and bark as .veil as from the skins of animals. The cave people employed a thread mafle from split tendons and perhaps strings of ?ut, and the fineness of some of their needles has suggested the probability that they performed some more delicate work than the sewing of skins.