Cin falai eittlt.
For the American Presbyterian.
`THE GOSPEL THE POWER OF GOD AND
THE WISDOM OF GOD."
BY REV. C. R. BURDICK
Hail, conquering Jesus, all divine!
In Thee God's power and wisdom shine,
By Thee a kingdom shall arise,
To draw the nations to the skies.
'Twas heavenly wisdom formed the plan,
Bestowing life on fallen man,
And from this shattered, ruined shrine
To rear a temple all divine.
The power of God from rOxeaves,
It brings dead sinners froiiitheir grates,
O'er desert wastes and midnight gloom
It scatters light with Eden's,blocim,
His conquerins arms, from shore to shore,
Shall spread tuliftifutp l hii
Till all the earth shall own his away,
Till all the Gospel shall obey.
Then let the powers of hell arise,
And league with hate against the skies,
Prone, in the dust they shall be hurled,
To people the dark nether world.
THE LAUREL BUSHES.
The home of Willie and Etta Herman was
just at the foot of a sunny, sloping hill, the
side of which abounded in laurel, and in the
month. of June, was beautifully dotted with
'its rich pink and white clusters. Here and
there on the hill were pretty groups of trees;
the children often loved to rest under their
shade, when wearied with . climbing, or with
jumping over the moss-covered stones, among
which a tiny rill made its -way downwards,
hurrying off to join the "blud Juniata."
Willie wakjust eight years old; wUs
two years younger: they loved each other
dearly, and were always happy in each
other's company.
One fine summer's morning, they had been
tossing their hal' s on the grass By 'the hodse.
When, tired of playing in:the old way, Willie
said.
44 Come, Etta, let's see which can rollfur
thest up hill."
Etta agreed, and they chose the smoothest
place they could find, and started up the
hill.. Willie having the strongest arm, could
almost always " beat," and this so elated him,
that trying to send his ball further and fur
ther, it at last struck a large stone, and
bounded off into a thick laurel bush, from
which his arm was too short to rescue it.
While making vain efforts to reach it, he
slipped and hurt his foot—not very much,
though—on the Mime which had caused the
accident.
Suddenly, a terrible change came over the
little fellow. It was as if some strong, evil
spirit had entered into him, and disturbed
his usually pleasant face, and moved his
whole' body. He kicked the stone with all
his little strength two or three times, but
could not move it; this only increased his
fury. Then he turned to the clump of laurel,
and tore it with both hands, scattering its
blossoms and green leaves, shouting,
" You mean, ugly old bushes,!" and .other
angry words,—more than you would like to
heat,'or I to repeat.
" Oh, Willie !" said Etta, "you know ,
mother has told us not to break the laurel
bushes, they are—"
" Hush up ! I don't care!" was Willie's
only answer. His face was very red, and
great drops stood out upon it.
At last he succeeded in getting his
and, and his passion subsiding, with one last
triumphant pull at the bush, he turned, and
started down hill to go home. And well he
might. The sun was very . hot, And its rays,
and the fire of Willie's passion, had raised
him to fever-heat. Worse still, in tearing
away the laurel, and stooping to reach his
ball, he had torn his hands and face with its
rough stems, until theyibled, , but without
knowing it at the time. His face burned
and he rubbed it with his bands, thus spread
ing the poison that is laid up in the laurel,
all over the bleeding skin.
His mother was at the door when the
children approached.
" Why, Willie, my son," she said, " what
is the matter ? Your hands and face are
quite bloody and dusty !"
"It was the laurel bush, mother," said
Etta, "that hurt his face,"
"The old:thing stoppc my ball, mother,"
interrupted Willie,—" and I couldn't get it
out for the longest time ! But I don't care,"
he added, nodding with quite a satisfied,
determined air, "P gue=S I tore it half up !
I hate laurel bushes,—l do !"
" Oh, Willie,. Willie !" said his mother,
shaking her head reprovingly,..—" And I
fear you have poisoned your face and hands !"
It was .even so, and worse ; for in' a few
hours, in spite of his mother's careful bath
ing, and a nice cooling salve which she ap
plied to his face and ' hands, they were much
swollen, and covered with sore red spots.
Even his mouth was swelled and burning,
and Willie felt quite badly, and was glad to
lie still on his little bed.
It so happened the next day was the birth
day of Willie's cousin Emily, who lived a
few miles distant, on a very benutitul farm.
Mrs. Herman and the children had been
invited by Emily's parents to spend that day
with them. Uncle Henry was to bring the
spring wagon for them early in the morning;
and they were to drive home by moonlight
in the evening. 'All were looking forward
to a delightful holiday ; for Uncle Henry's
family was so larf t e and so happy, that it
was a great treat to Visit there.
It was too late to send any word ; and
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, JULY 16, 1863.
good Uncle Henry came, according to pro
mise, very early in the morning. But Mas
ter Willie, of course, could not go, and Mrs.
Herman would not leave him. Uncle Henry
was very sorry, but begged her to allow Etta
to go for a visit of a few days. To this she
willingly consented.
After they were goiie, and the mother was
ready to titke her sewing, Willie asked her
to come and sit close by him - ; for he felt
lonely without Etta, and was almost ready
to cry for disappointment.
"And, dear mother," he sai'd, " am so
sorry for you, too I If you would only have
gone, mother, I am aure I should,not .have
been afraid to stay hette gone,—Qh mother,
the mean laurel! I shall always think of
this whenever -I see and . 1 BillaWhate4:l"
Willie's mother smiled kindly. upon him,
at the first part of this speceit, but only an
swerCd his last Wordd. ""
" Hate it ? oh, no, MY gob,' I am thirc'you
will not; Wlieh you liemtember_ l ithlw beautiful
it is, and Who made it.. See," she added,
taking a cluster of its blessoms from a little
white Vase on the•iiiinf,el-pittcgliqiow soft
and delicate these pink flowers are, and ho*
dark and glossy these green leases. - And
look inside," she said, opening one of the
tbit,hrtoint of her needle, - "how
nicely eacht oftthese, any,threads, called
stamens, hides its head in.its own-little niche,
until the, floyfer,9tene, and they all.tand up
.straight, and ready to do the work, God,
has given them. For each of these little
has "its ,
'min ) task .6.64 'has
so wonderfully made even these wild flower's
that grow on the mountains,—often for no
eyes but . His, own all-seeing ones, and those,
perhaps, of the angels."
" And, moiler,' eiclaimed Willie, begin
ning, in spite of himself, to be interested in
laurA ." El., i proqy little crimson star
inside of the ftower-cup,-L-huf mother,
_why
did God put Into such `a ,into
plant ?"
"I do not know; Willie,"' 'replied his
mother, " whether men haVe yet found any
use for tto ;On :tyetlaiircr,-li)i s t - you
May - be "sure there'is some wise reason tor
its being thei*- else Otul- Va .- titer in Heaven
would- not have made-it." I VI (i,
" kiwi; it * would make my
hands and face sore, mc,ithet;. Without, an
sweringquestion tiVeoily; Maher
said,
" After all, Willie, dear, wad, the, laurel
really the cause of your trouble ? was it not
rather ychir'dwri PAP - You see I can
hold this in
~ my hand, and admire,* peau
tids, and it ilifirEine; !Whe'dycni
were angry, you bruised and.tore the bush,
and pressed . buticts4OisVir. 'So, Willie, we
may, .often give omelves: and_ Olen pain
and sorrow by, a wrong or passionate use of
things that might otherwise be verypleaeant
and, profitable. ,
"But, dear Willie, there is worse . poison
than laurel-juice--it is the poison of sin in
our hearts."
-I•know, -mother, you have told ,
was that made me get so mad at the bush
But low can I help it?: 1 cktatt take that
pciiSon Put."
"No, dear son, you cannot. But if you
pray in Christ's name, fib, the" Great Phy
sician; by His Holy' Spirit, • will take it all
away. 'Only you mist" watch , and pray,'"
"But, mother, I haven't a minute's time
to stop and watch—when I ket angry, I
do and say things without knowing whitt
they Am.". ,
" Deir Willie,' just as different sorts of
plants contain different kinds of poison, so
every one,. of ifs, has - Berne kin of : stir to.
Ihe> is more inclined
These are our 'besetting sins.' Your, be
setting sin is a violent temper,. Some people
are more liable to other. :temptations.' But
the remedy is the,same in all cases. The
evil power is Stronger than you, it is true
but, my darling, Godis stronger than afi evil,
that is our comfort only pray thin every
day, and try in His strength.
"Now, mother, I will not hate the bean.-
tiful laurel any urpre. I will ; love lit, for it
will always remind me of this talk; and
when I see it, it will help me to ieinember
watch aud pray.' Oh, mother, ho - ff : good
youare not t,' be angry with iie for *Aping
you at home`!"
" Let that make you remember( another
thing, dear- child,—that no one can do wring
without injuring some one beside himself.
And now, if you remember these good les=
sons, I ;think you will see that the laurel-,
poison has at, least been of some use to you:
;though it las hurt your hands, and Mace,
God Vrels .it' to help izii cuzing,y6iir
soul."
"1 hopo Hey will, dear mother," said the
little b 6 seriously
Willie did not forget. Year after year,
when the laurel appeared in bloom, he used
to'ge ' - ont 'and look - twit,' tint' try lb think
whether he had gained more control over his
temper since he had seen it last year ; and
then ask fdr new help for the year to come.
nd by God's bleising,' Willie did as every
little 'Christian child should do, he " grew
in grace."
Oh, beautiful skill of the Chribtian mother,
—to teach her child to turn the dark and
painful 'chastisement of this earthly life into
elements of healing o recognize and to
love' his Creator's and —g
Father's Hand. `Bles-.
sed, and glorious , skill, indeed ; for, it is God.
given,-,it is a part of that , victory over all
evil which He has promised,to - His Children.
—Reformed Church, Messenger.
Glory is the privilege of grace.
THE SKY.
It seems to me that in the midst of the
material nearness of the heavens God means
us to acknowledge His own immediate
presence as visiting, judging, and blessing
us. "The earth shook, the heavens also
dropped, at the presence of God." "He
doth set His bow in the cloud," and thus
renews, in the sound of every drooping
swathe of rain His promises of everlasting
love. "In them bath He set a tabernacle
for the sun," whose burning ball, which
Without the firnament would be seen as an
intolerable and scorching circle in the black
ness of vacuity, is by that firmament sur
rounded with gorgeous service,' and tem
pered by mediatorial ministries; by the
firmament of clouds the golden pavement is
spread' for fiis chariot Wheels 'at morning ;
by the firmament of clouds the temple' is
built for his presence to fill with light, at
neon; by .the firmament of clouds the pur
ple veil is closed at evening round thesanc
army-of-his-rest.; by - the - mists of the firma
ment his implactibie c ibWlft is divided, and its
separated fierceness appeased into the, soft
blue that fills the depths of, distance with
'ts .blodin r and.the.,flush with which the
mountains burn as-they drinkthe overflow
ing of tWdoiyAptiitg..
And this taber
nacli ng iof 'the unbnclurible sun with men,
through thvs,ba,,deNts of the firmament r Ged
*Odd fiejnifte set 'forth- tte js - e4>riingkt His
own majesty , to men,-.upon the , throne of the
flrinnmen't.' As the Creator 'of all 'the
worlds, and the -Inhabiter of 'eternity, We
cannot .behold Him; but As the Judge of
the earth and the Preserver of men, those
Heavens ~ are indeed lits dwelling-place.
" Swear not,,neither .Heaven, for it
God's throne ; nor by the earth, for it is
Ns Wok' atool." And all those pansinga to
and fro of fruitful shower . and grateful
'shade, all those visions a silver ;palaces
built about the horizon, and voices of moan-
ing winds and threatening thunders
. and
glories 'of_colored robe and cloven ray, are
but to , deipen in our hearts=the acceptance,
and 'distinctness, and dearness of the sim
ple, vtorcls, " Our Fattier, WhiCh art in
, GDBMAN KINDERGA-BTEN.
"Perhaps a better idea cannot be presented
of the 'working of kindergarten than 'a de
soriiitiOp or the`way in which the principal
one. in Bremen is, conduCted, and WhiOci I
have had occasion to visit. kany of the
children are so-Small that they 'need to be
conducted thither by older persons, when
they , ate',ArtieraytheidootL'hy,Tesqviii!A, who
su,,,vlt and
lunch box,, being takea;'4"'Ofir.ithat
each ehild, aid in adiesting its own things,
and having a fixed place for all. • The pro
prietress—Miss 9-rava.n—t-is 'assisted wit..
two ether ladies. " . The school is dividedin
te•live4easee, either oneother of
whith is nearly always in the largohallfor
exercise, or working in the little gardens
out of -.lloors. In the sehool-tooM each
scholar is 'provided witha very neat and
comforthble desk and,isitinght,to•
regard - them as its" own property. the
employinents are worsted work,, knitting,
elementary drawing, and every other imag
inhble `thing which"supposed to furnish
euch•-yeit rig: fingers -and min di with core
biped'ittidiiinfuselieent.V The children
have patternd , before them for everything
they are to do, and --the teacher personally
superintends them in each little labor, when
every pains is taken to impart as much ele-•
menthry f instruftion , p i prible i r , For ea
ample; if 41iitle girltibtiltlivosk'on a book
mark, or lamfonat,she.is.taught imitation i i
,combination,,perspeetive, counting, the al
phabat, , andsmany other , things. As soon as
she is tired of one employnient ,FilkEk is at
liberty to—begin something else :that she
may like. Thus all weariness is avoided.
" The I•boinf for exercise - ieiy • lirge
and, like ~the, school-room, neatly orna
merited .with pietUres, and when 'the child-
ren are in it they are,under the care of a'
teheher, who has them go through many
gymnastic exercises. ' h is' the MOO, , in
teresting feature of the kindetgarten. The.
children,- hays an te d girls-prinniscuously, are•
directedto "isslimemaai•tiiin "liosition. It
tiregiinsUct drawn up in line
of battle. The teacher then commences 'a
story Op* ;Vera - jilt tlp atio i"th en comes
some stirring song; when all sing it to-,
.gether, And; then.- ho ; battle : P1.1111;10.9060 in
right good earnest. T After the great victory
is -7101 3 ) ,,, the teacher .riarra t tes o a Reaceful
story in Vein, whiCh the ChildVen have been
also preyiously taught,-and w,hich,.they re
peat with'Ver,ikVidgltlirought with all the
gymnsatiesxer i cises suggested by the verses.
F 0 Niisian s ce ' (law of Igrqiiltigeori
hhtiskolit, vilfacrlqh.l) pigeon copse ;One
by ono. Some fly slowly and others more
rapidlyp others go off and hop 'around on•
the ground,while others light on the chairs,
some get tired, ant others fall down, and
thus the. .0s u p sed g yfnovqients of a whole
flock -6f i olls , oard feprelielsted by the
chilstrein
I,'"-Act'i4ward,, the .teacher agin to
tell 'in prose Ittlilt bytcksinitfl„ and
trawl by : stieseaches the , yerses tail* of
his anvil, heild 'ws; 'real& iron, and great
hammer, when the children sing with hdr,
and the, whole 'room is, , Arh - psformed, for a
t'ute, into: Veakinittiy, hnif*.• the little
iminsttiottly - iind
blacksMith Anottilksbhg . tow-abo u t waPE-7,
ingi over, a hialiVid# 43 at latit a great pond
is reached. l 'te, frogs arc' heird to croak,
and seen to reap into the pond. During
this time the entire class 'becomes a large.
group of similar croakers. these ini
tiatory exercides, the children preserve
strict order but their risible propensities
are tilt little res.tiairied. just as Sam as the.
slightest fatigue or decrease in interest is
obseiVed,4htiVe.ifeioises' ahaiged, when
the class is immedihtely : ,taken into another
room or efse iiito`the garden. About one l -
Igilfc4o,l4ipelieems to be devoted 'to the,
gymnastic and horticultural employments,
and the other half to the light manual labor
at the desks in the school-room proper.
"There are a great many of these half
poetical and half prose stories, having some
what of a theatrical character, taught and
performed in the kindergarten. I have at
hand a'volume which contains fifty in all,
profusely illustrated. Some of the titles
are: 'The Mouse and the Cat," The Ants,'
The Stork and the Frog,' The Butterfly,'
'The Grasshoppers and the WornV and
'The Horse-chestnut Tree." Each of these
stories, requires, perhaps from ten. to fifteen
minutes to repeat and perform.
"The exercises and employmeats ,at the
kindergarten are sure to be brought away
by the children, and enter largely into tlidir
home-life. If you send your little folksto
`orie of them for three months you may di
pea, for aong time afterward, to see them
hopping about your i?remises like *Op,
leaping like deer, spr:nging like. catS, and,
'as. nearly as they: can, flying like swallows,
barking, like dogs, swimming like fish,
swinging like tree - tops, sailing like boats,
and chaetering, life magpies. " =Rev. J. 1 -1 .
_Eiurst in de "
IN THE SHADOWS.
Altd'aik and chill was" thy direlling,
' Dreary the nig u ide;
the'ghadoWS dreaMing,
I heaid the daeh of the tide, '
is when we went down to the shore,7
'.Down through "the mist'and the.wind.
' 'She SaieWaitiug angeli` before,
I Saw but shadows behind. •
, _
DOM to the.shore we went slowly
I wept—sha sung at my side,
And I clasped her closely,: vainly,.
As sullenly swept the, tide.;
It Ivas dark as the grave tome,
Noteven axone, faint star,
But aivay over the swelling sea,
She saw thaCity afar.
,
Tivo of us went at daybreak,
' O'er the grey rocks, to the sea:;
And nP through the sweet, Still morning,
I bitterly - cried, "Take Me I
She'll miss me even in heaven,
Dar Lord, she is but a child."
"Not yet," was theanswer given ;
She ivhispered, "Good-bye,"'and smiled
Then she passed into the Morning. ,
Far.oyer the golden sea ;
al mist of awful darkness
Fell suddenly, shrOuding me.
I knew .they were chanting praises
' Beyond the shadowy tide,.
'Brittle creeping , grass and daisies
Would ever their faces
o jibii could they sing in heaven ?
I groping in mists of tears
0 hoycduld they be so - silent;
Throngli"all'my desolate years
Is, the soul so changed in glory;;
Can tliey smile while :we yearning look ?
Shall reveal the story
That lies in the mystic' book 1
To-night., in the shadowe grieving, ;"
4 .ll,lafing the voice-cithe, f ;l,7 .- , - ,
. Meepiper prayeifin the darkness, ;.
"0 lighten thy cross on me."
And Ile heard for strange silence fell,
I knew %was the, liet'ning,sea
Ca j d it be-that I dreamed ? Ah,-well,
What matter? they came to me 1
Yes; came to my silent dwelling;
Their , faces so young and fair;
,The pillar of cloud was lifted, ,
' Heaven's glory seemed shadowed there:
.We'eping for joy, I said, -
I thought you were 'cold and •dead,—
Thank God, it was only seeming,
And I am so glad," I said.
I had grown strange 'neatli my. sorrow,
Almond
,buds bloomed in my hair 5
Lci, young with Om youth of angels,
The faces they Used to wear,
13iiiit grew 'dark in my dwelling,-
'Tomas dark as the gi-ave outshie---
Still its low requiem knelling,
I heard the voice of the tide.
Yet tell me not that when dreaming.
24y heart lost its long du g ll
into'Tliat my darkness shining,
SlattiOattered their ainiles again;
Say thava•heavenly vision •
Can3e'oVer the mystic tide,-- •
Their faces from fields Elysian,
Their angels stood by my side.
.BIIRROUNDINGS OF . THE THEATRE.
We'haVelieen with our own .eyes a once
quiet l - and . l orderlY portion of' a great city
thorOtialao' Elp Changed in Charact#:by
the,opeuing of a theatre there as to Make
it anything but pleasant, if,not often actual
ly unsafe, fora woman to pass the spot af
ter nightfall without a protector. With what
singular constancy the gin-palace, the gam-
Iling,hell and the house of the lost woman
malKe Itheir appearance in its vicinity How
comes it that those means and appliances of
dissipation and•mice so, constantly spring up
in the place whither theatre-goers resort ?
Why do'these breathing-holes of perdition
Open their devouring Mouths around, the
theatre as naturally as gather abbut
the'crater of a velcano? What mean these
striking amities ? Dr. .P.ellows admits that
"the immorality and reoklessness of society,
its folly and vice, have clustered aroundthe
theatre." Now why is •this, if not becanse
" birds 'of ii
„feather flock' together ?"
r joir as the theatre attract such a cornpan
iimrthip,,Do BOptlißtries of special pleading
will persuade thinking minds that the source
brattraction> is other than the "sympathy
that naturally springs up between similari
ties-Of taste and'character.
the Frenah Revoltition the celebrated
,Edmund 'Parke writes: " While courts of
,justice were thrust out by Jacobin tribunals,
and silent churches were, only fun erepd, mon -
inherits of departed-religion' ••when Paris
" was-like a den of outlaws—a lewd- tavern
for redel and debaucheries "—there were in
'that city'"no feWer.than thea
trea crowded every night I " From debau
chery, blasphemy and butchery, in the day
time to, the theatre at night—from the the
atre at night back to butchery, blasphemy
and debauchery in the day-time! What is
there in the' theAtre that 'can •,adapt,itself to
tastes and'passions: so ))6480 ?' Are schools
of 'virtue : are our C,iitirche,ll,o faPi re; plastic
add 'plitinf ?—Rev. W. IP: BiiEd, D. D.
gtifittiftt.
RAPIDITY OF SENSATION.
If a needle be stuck into one of the fingers,
the sensory fibres take the impression
through the nerve and th i e posterior root to
the spinal cord and thence to the brain.
The command goes out to " draw the finger
away." The mandate travels down the
spinal cord to the anterior root, and thence
through the motor fibres of the nerve to the
muscles, which immediately act, and the
finger is at once removed. All this takes
place with great rapidity, but yet with noth
ing like the celerity ,once imagined. The
researches of Helmholtz, a distingnished
German physiologist, have shown with great
exactitude the rate of speed with which the
pgyeris- fluid travels; and other observers,
among whom §eltelske deserves mention,
have given a great deal of time and patience
,tothin and, kindred questions. As the result
of, many
_deli beration it was -ascertained
that the. nervous fluid moves at the rate of
a kont.pyt, feet in a second. Now, electricity
'travels with a speed exceeding 1,200,090,000
feet in p seeond, and light over 900,000,000.
A shooting Star.moves with a velocity of
200,000 feet in a second, and the earth in its
orbit ,a,round the .sun,, 100,600. A cannon
ball Luisa mean yelocity of 1,800 feet iu a
second; an :eagle,,; a.:l6comotive, 95;
and a race horse 80. We thus perceiye that
-the nervous fluid, has:, no yell remarkable
rate of speed. ,fact which, among many
others, ; serves ..to indicate its.. non-identity
with eectricity. .
ProfesiorliondersCoittreclit, has recently
-been, making some interesting experiments
in regard ,to ; the rapidity of thought, which
are likewise interesting,, By Means.Of two
instruments, whidh ; he calls ; the noematacho
graph and the noematac.hometer, he promi
ses some important details. For the pres
ent, he, announces that a simple ,idea re
quires the briin to act for .067 of .asecond
for its elaboration. Poußtless the time re
quired is not the same for all . brains, and
-.that by means of theseinStrarnents we may
obtain definite indications relative to ; the
mental calibre of our friends. What inval
uable instraments ; they prouldwhe for nomi
nating caucuses: for vestripe,,for trustees of
colleges; for merchants; in_ want of book
,keepers; in short, for .all baying,' appoint
, omeans of any kind to make ,
For the eye to receive in: impression re
quires .077 of a second, and foe the ear to
'appreciate a .sound,..-149 of a second are ne
cessary, • The eye, therefore, aets with
nearly twice the rapidity,of the
4. Hammond,.M D., in July. No. of the
Galaxy,"-
TPbTIIMPIig) OF '6ENIUS.
We sometimes`thi of genius as a way
ward,_fickle fat; _but it is rather that
persistent : power, of themulN hitt]; like faith,
‘ hing,lni at impossibilitiek,t'and'ciits its way
through every obstatle. The life of Charles
Goodyear`illustiates this in an eminent de
gree. The Scientific American says :—We
prestinie that the . story of his eventful life
will be made .public in sots more formal
mode, and we will not attempt fully to trace
the progress of
_his- inventions . It was in
1834 that Mr. Gliodyear turned his attention
to the Manufacture of India rubber. There
`WEiI3 a ittysterjr about this tropical gum
which gave it e , strange charm to his jinni
nition. It was not an article of commerce,
but appeared from time to time only as a
rare curiosity brought from foreign lands.
The savages' Who possessed it kept the mode
of its manufacture a *found secret. It was
found only under the' burning sun of the
equator, in the -gloomy swamps of •the un
explored Amazon, or the jungles 'of -Asia
and Africa. Its nature Was as mysterious
a's its origin; the chemists who examined
it were baffled in theitehttempts to make it
-of practical use. Ingenious men, abroad
and at home, had attempted to solve the
mystery, but all hid failed. That it was of
ibqneniie valid° in the artsi to supply.a thou
sand wants` of civilized life, was obvious to
all, but the elastic gum kept its own myste
rious secret, and there-was no clew to the
disdovery. -
To discover the secret and solve the pro
blem beCaine the dream of ,Charles.
year s -life. The difficulties and -failures
which he encountered only made it luore
dear to him. He asked aid from- men of
science; but they discouraged . bitni -his as
sociates abandoned the -pursuit in despair;
his friends; One aften ti.nother,left him, but
lie only citing 'the closer td cherished
faith. In one of the contests by which pi
rates of his-invention-sought to rob him of
his rights, the veil was half withdrawn from
the liteof the i d .n+entot,',Oid a fesy• details of
the priVntiOns which he eichired were given.
He was in such extreme penury that his bed
was sold from under - 11km.; he Vita so poor
that it was said he, could not buy a-u ounce
of tea on credit. • In the dead of `winter there
was no food in his house, and no fuel for
fire. This *liana the struggle of a few
Months only, hut it Waft the story of years;
for it was not till 184.4, After ten 'years of
toil, that huperfected and Patented his dis
covery. Hisiabor, however, did- ndt cease,
and even to the hour of his death he was
&Voted to the favorite pursuit on which he
lavished the immense sums which he receiv
ed from his patent& His life Was subject to
the . strangest vicissitudes. `He went from a
poor debtors' prison• to a palace, in Paris.
!The man who was an object of cold con
tempt in an obscure village, on account of
his poverty, received the Grand Cross of the
Legion of Honor from the Emperor Napole
on as a reward of his genius. In Europe as
well as America, his name was honored and
his merits appreciated, but, to the hour of
his death he was the emcee enthusiastic and
patient inventor. Charles! Goodyear has
!well - been called the Anieircari Palissy, and
to his last lithirholibtecl On the principle
that God did not him to 'Mate bhu
'idle.