Cl=,
famit
"IT IS I." (MATTE. XIV. 27-29.)
Lord, it is Thou, and I can walk
Upon the heaving sea,
Firm in a vexed, unquiet way,
Because I come to Thee.
If Thou art all I hope to gain
And all I fear to miss,
There is a highway for my heart
Through rougher seas than this
And step by step on even ground
My trembling foot shall fall,
Led by Thy calm, inviting voice,
Thou Heir and Lord of all.
The very thing I cannot bear,
And have not power to do,
I hail the grace that could prepare
For me to carry through.
These waters would not hold me up
If Thou wert not my End ;
But whom Thou tallest to Thyself
Even wind and waves defend.
Our very troubles shut us in
To Thy supporting care ; .
We venture on the awful deep
And find our courage there.
"When I have nothing in my hand
Wherewith to serve my King,
When Thy commandments find me weak
And wanting everything,
My soul, upon Thy greatness cast,
Shall rise divinely free ;
Then will I serve with what Thou bast,
And gird myself with Thee.
It shall be strength, howe'er it tend,—
The bidding sweet and still
Which draws to one ennobling love,
And one benignant will.
Most precious when it most demands,
It brings that cheering cry
Across the rolling tide of life—
" Take heart ! for it is I."
Oh, there are heavenly heights to reach
In many a fearful place,
Where the poor timid heir of God
Lies blindly on his face:
Lies languishing for life divine,
That he shall never see,
Till he go forward at Thy sign,
And trust himself to Thee.
Why should I halt because of sin
Which Thou bast put away ?
Let all the truth on every aide '
Rebuke me as it may !
With Thee, my Saviour, full in view,
I know it shall but bless ;
It shall but centre all my hope
In glorious righteousness.
Forth from some narrow, frail defence,
Some rest Thyself below,
Some poor content with less than All,
My soul is called to go.
Yes, I will come ! I will not wait
An outward calm to see,
And, 0, my Glory, be Thou great
Even hi midst of me.
DOTTY DIMPLE GOING NUTTING.
[" Dotty Dimple out West" is so very child
like and natural throughout, that we have been
puzzled to decide which portion 'will give the
reader the best idea of the amusing little hero
ine. Perhaps the chapter on " Going Nutting,"
which introduces Dotty Dimple and some of her
Western cousins to favorable notice, will be
found as interesting as any :]
As they drove along " the plank road,"
farther and farther away from the city, Dotty
saw more clearly than ever, the wide difference
between Indiana and Maine.
" Why, papa," said she, " did you ever breathe
such a dust ? It seems like snuff.",
" It makes us almost as invisible as the ' tarn
cap' we read of in German fairy tales," said
Mrs. Clifford, tucking her brown veil under her
chin.
She and Mr. Parlin both encouraged Dotty
to talk; for they liked to hear her exclamations
of wonder at things which to them seemed com
nionplace enough.
" What did you call this road, aunt 'llia ?
Didn't you say it was made of boards? I don't
see any boards."
" The planks were put down so long ago,
Dotty, that they are overlaid with earth."
" But what did they put them down for ?"
" You mussent ask so many kestions, Dotty,"
said Flyaway; severely ; " you say ' what' too
many times."
" The planks were laid down, Dotty, on ac
count of the depth of the mud."
" Mud, aunt 'Ria ?"
" Yes, dear, dusty as it is now, at some sea
sons of the year the roads are so muddy that
you might lose your overshoes, if it were not
for the large beams which bridge over the
crossings."
" That reminds me," said Mr. Parlin, " of the
man who was seen sinking in the mud, and,
when some one offered to help him out, he re
plied, cheerfully, 'O, I shall get through; I
have a horse under me.'"
" Why, was the horse 'way down out of sight,
papa ?"
' Where was the hossy, uncle Eddard ?"
"It was only a story, children. If the man
said there was a horse under him, it was a figure
of speech, which We call hypq:bole ; he only
meant to state, in a funny, way, that the mud
was excessively deep."
"Is it right to tell hypetiblees, papa ? Be
cause Jennie Vance tells them a great deal. I
didn't know the name of theirCbefore."
" No, Alice, it is not right to tell untrue
things expecting to be believed—of course not."
" Well, she isn't believed. Nobody. s'poses
her mamma made a bushel of currant wine last
summer,; unless it's , a baby, that
,doesn't know
any better."
"I. knows better. I'se a goorl, and ' can
walk," said little ]Katie,
" I didn't say you were a baby, you precious
Flyaway ? Who's. cunning ?"
"I'm is," replied the child, settling back upon
her seat with a sigh of relief. She was very sensi
tive on the point of age; and 'like Dotty, could
not abide the idea of being thought young.
" How far are we goingl" asked Mr. Perlin.
"I do not' kilow exactly," replied' Mrs. Clif
ford; " but I will tell you how far Mr. Skeels,
one of ,our oldest natives, calls it. _He says he
reckons it three screeches.' ".
= The Sunday Magazine
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, AUGUST 26, 1869.
" How far is a ' screech,' pray ?"
" The distance a human voice can be heard, I
presume."
" Let us try it," said Dotty Dimple; and she
instantly set up a scream so loud that the birds
in the trees took to their wings in alarm. Katie
chimed in with a succession of little shrieks
about as powerful as the peep of a chicken.
"I have heard that they once measured dis
tances by 'shoots,'" said Mrs. Clifford, laugh
ing; but I hope it will not be necessary to
illustrate them by firing a gun."
They next passed an old weather-worn grave
yard.
" This," said Mrs. Clifford, " was once known
in the coice language of the backwoodsmen, as
a brier-Batch ; and when people died, it was
said they winked out.' "
"' Winked out,' aunt Ria ? how dreadful l"
" Wing tout," echoed Katie ; " how defful I"
"0, what beautiful, beautiful grass we're
riding by, auntie When the wind blows it, it
winks so softly ! Why, it loCks, like a green
river running ever so fast."
" That is a s sort of prairie land, dear, and very
rich. Look on the other side of the road, and
tell me what you think of those trees."
" 0, aunt 'Ria, I couldn't climb up there, nor
a boy either ! It would take a pretty spry squir
rel—wouldn't it , though ?" t
"A pitty sp'y skurrel, I fink," remarked
Katie, who did not consider any of Dotty's sen
tences complete until she herself had added a
finishing touch.
" They are larger than Our trees, Alice."
• "0, yes papa. They look as if they grew,
and' grew, and forgot 6 - strip."
"`Very long 'trees, ten ny rate,"' said Katie,
throwing up her arms in imitation of branches,
and jumping so high that her mother was obliged
to take her in her lap in order to keep her in
the carriage.
" And, 0, papa, it is so smooth between the
trees, we can peep like a spy-glass right through! ,
Why, it seems like a church."
" 1 don't see urn," said Katie, stretching her
neck and looking in vain for a church.
" The groves were God's first temples,' " re
peated Mr. Parlin reverently. " These trees
have no undergrowth of shrubs, like 'our New
England trees."
" But, 0, look ! look, 'papa What is that
long green dangle dripping down from up high ?
No, swinging up from down low ?"
" Yes, what is um, uncle Eddard
" That is a mistletoe-vine embracing a hickory
tree. It is called a tree-thief,' because it steals
its food from the 'tree it grows upon."
" Why, papa, I shouldn't think 'twas a thief,
for the tree knows it. A. thief comes in the
night, when there 'doesn't anybody know it. 1.
should think 'twas a beggar."
"I fink so too," said Flyaway, straining her
eyes to look at, she knew not what. "I fink urn
ought to ask please."
" All this tract of country where we are riding .
now," said Mrs. Clifford, " was overflowed' last
spring by the river. It is called .' bottom land.'
and is extremely. rich:",
",I never thought the Hoojers had a very
clean, blue, pretty river," said Dotty, thought
fully; " it looks some like a' mud-puddle. Per
haps it carried off too much of the dirt."' , •
" Muddy-puddil," replied Katie,-"full o' dirt."
As they rode they passed houses whose chim
neys were inhospitably lett out of doors.
"Why, look, aunty," said Dotty; " there's a
house turned wrong side out !"
These buildings had no cellars, but, were prop
ped Upon logs, leaving room for the air to pass
under the floor, and fbr other things to pass urc
der, such-as cats, dogs and chickens.
" Why, where do the people go to when they
want to go down cellar ?" asked Dotty in a
maze.
Near one of these houses she was seized with
an irresistible thirst, Mr. Perlin gave the reins
to Mrs. Clifford, and stepped out of the carriage,
then helped Dotty and Katie to alight.
. They found a sharp-nosed woman cooking
corn dodgers for a family of nine children.
Whether it was, their breahfa \ st or dinner, hoiir,
it was hard to tell. When Mr. Parlin asked for
water, the woman wiped her forehead with her
apron, and replied, " 0, yes, stranger;" and phe
of the little girls, whose face was stained with
something besides the kisses pf the sun, brought
some water from the spring iu a gourd'.'
"Well, Dotty Dimple," said Mrs. Clifford ;
when they were all'on' their way again, " what
did you see at the house?"`
" 0, I saw a woman With a whittled nose, and
a box of flowers in the window."
" And chillen," said Katie ; "foui, five huh
nerd chillen." 1
" The box was labelled 'Assorted Lozenges,' 71
mid Mr. Parlin; " but I .ob§erved that it con
tained a black imperial rose; so' the occupants
have an' eye for beauty after all. • I presume .
they cannot trust their flowers out of doors on
account of the pigs " ti
" They.brought me water in a squash-shell,"
cried Dotty. "It is so funny out West I '-.
"1 clinked in a skosh-shell, too • and I'ldd-it's
velly funny out West 1" said little Echo.
They were riding behind the other carriage,
and at some distance, in order to avoid the dust
from its wheels. .
"Henry has stopped," said Mrs. Clifford.
" We have reached ' Small's Enlargement,' and
cannot comfortably ride any. further. The lot
next to this is ours, and it is there we are going
for the pecans."
Dotty could hardly wait to be lifted out, so
eager was she to walk on the " Enlarge
ment." She spoke of it afterwards as an." en
smallment;" and the confusion of ideas was very
natural. it was the place where Grace and' the
" Princess of the Ruby Seal" had gone some
years before, to have their fortunes told. It was
a wild picturesque region, overgrown with tulip
trees', Judas trees, and scrub oaks. '
Ye morning stars, ye "sons of Jill.t ,
Rejoice with jubilation;
As ante ye sang when primal night
Was scattered by creation.
Behold, the prince'of night is thrown
Into his proper place,
And Lie that cast the dragon down,
Hath raised me by His grape. '
And now I stand upon'the grave .
Where wrath entombed is,
And wait that. rich crown to receiye,.
Which will be perfect bliss.
—Thomas Bromley, 1691.
THE WILL FOR THE DEED.
BY M. 0. F
" I must not forget those stockings;
there's a basket full this week."
Jenny's mother said this in a wearied
way. The little girl was playing in her
room, and began to think about helping
her.
- - .
" Where are they?" she asked.
"In the sitting-room," the mother an
swered, and thought no more about it. An
hour later she went down stairs. There
sat Jenny in the large arm-chair by the
open window, the basket on the table be
fore her, and her little fingers very busy.
" Mother," she said, looking up with a
bright smile, "Yon had twelve pair of stock
ings and I've done six of them." ,
Jenny had given up a whole hour's play to
help and relieve her mother ;'but she was a
very little girl, and she had made a mistake.
She sewed the holes over and over. And as
she meant to'do her beet, the stitches were
close and tight. Her mother knew it would
be at least half-an-hour's work to rip them
out, but she would not disappoint'the loving
heart by letting,her know she had not fully
Succeeded. She said only, " Well, you're a
dear, good little girl, and now you may run
out aad play."
Away went. Jenny, very happy in the.
thought that she had helped and pleased
her mother. And ' she had ; for the kind
ness and love she had shoWn were morapre
cions to that mothei's heart than gold, and
lightened her care.. Pleasant thoughts kept
her. company and made her ?leetile move
faster.
All of us, little folks and grown folks, are
liable to make inistakes, even when we really
try to do right. 'But the love of Christ is
only shadowed' forth faintly by that mo
ther's love. He, too, takes the will for the
deed ; counts, whatever -is done out of love
doneto Him, and sees that no true effort
is lost, but makes it to do good some time,
some way, whether, wesee it or not.
GOD. BENT YOU.
Kitty went to 'spend, the day with Mrs.
Carson. 'Mrs. Carson had no little girl, and
she loved Kitty ,dearly. The sun ahone
when she went. At 110011 clouds rose in
the sky, and in,itio afternoon it rained.
"'You can staY all night, Kitty," said
Mrs. Carson ; " your mother will not'expect
you to come in.tlae-rain."
",Sleep away from my mamMa," thought.
Kitty; and 'the:thought troubled her little
heart. When Mrs . . Carson 'left "the room,
Kitty looked out of the window.' Rain,
rain, rain. „" I wish the 'clom!s 'would stop
till I get home," said Kitty; bat the clouds
did not mind her. The drops only fell
. ,
faster: Tears filledthe child's eyes. •" Papa,?
she said—" papa; . won't you come and fetch
Kitty,home,?". Her papa could not hear;
he was away off.'
Then Kitty thought of God. God could
hear. God knows. And she prayed to. God
that, if He pleased, He would tell her mo
ther to send lor'ber. It was a great com
fort to think of God. God sent the rain.
He knew every drop. God made her, and
took care of her,•and saw where she then
waS." . " If God thinks best for me - to stay
here away from my tnamma,',' thought she,
"I can" But her little heart swelling at the
thought,. tears..tilled her eyes. " 1 can, I
can, if God sees best;" and again she
brushed away the tears. ,
While trying with all her might to feel
contented, who should come to the door
but Bridget, with a great umbrella to• fetch
her home. 'Kitty's eyes sparkled with de
light.
" Your mamma sent me for you," said
Brid get.
"No, Bridget," said the little girl, with a
sweet seriousness on her face; " it was God
sent you!'
" Maybe," said - Bridget; " but it was your
mamma that handed me the meesage."--
Child's Paper.
BELPOONT.EMPLATION.
"If a man is to find life, he must find it elsewhere
than in a deceitful view of himpelf.'"—ViNi.r.
. •-; ,
If you will allow me for once to say what
I think (writes Miss Newton, , February 2d,
1849, to one who was distressing herself
about her hardness of heart), you will. And
the greatest .possible help in studying the
character of Christ, not your, own. Read
the GoPpels to trace out—in every miracle,
and word, and act, and touch and in every
step of the path He trod--what was His
character, andhow it developed itself.; and
I think, with 'the Spirit's help, you will, for
get your walk in thinking ,of His, and your
emptiness in His fulness; and thus, by be
holding-as in a glass the glory of the Lord,
you will be "Changed into the same image,
from glory to glory, even as 'by the Lord
the Spirit" I do think that Satan hinders
Christians more by discouraging them, with
showing them their perpetual short-comings
and failures, and their want of conformity
to Jesus, with all its sad results, than in
any other way ; and I cannot help feeling
strongly that in urging, self-examination in
the way so many'good men do, they really
aid the mischief. I like what' M'Cheyne
said, " For every look at yourself,, take ton .
looks at Christ; only I would doible -and
trade it, and almost say, "Never look at
self at
kbelieVe4hat: is when we are most, oc
cupied with Christ that we are most useful
to 'others, heiiever unconscious we may be
of it, and however conscious (as, of course,
we shall be more than ever) of our unlike
ness to Him. I cannot find a single instance
in which, either in the Gospels'or Epistles,
Christians are taught, by example or by
precept, to , imake a study of their own.
hearts. I cannot help thinking that inward
experiences have far too 'mtch taken the
place of the study of Christ and of the
'character tif God, and that this accounts 14
a great measure for the lOw and despond
ing state of so very many Christians. Do
you not think that the constant study of
His character would far more effectually
teach us our depravity than poring into
our own?
RELIGION IN ENGLISH LIFE.
Of ,every-day religious expression in Eng
land a v. riter in Hearth, and Home remarks :
" Scarcely a family—at least none who
lay claim to any degree of respectability—
fails to have family service at least part of
the day. These' devotions are not irrever
ently rapid or tedious,
• as often with us; but
are short, crisp, and reverent. The,servants
come in, bringing with them their Eibles
and the benches on whieh they sit. Men
who do not profess religion, as it is übdor
stood among us, seldom sit at meat without,
grace, as it is here called. It consists of a
,few words_.such as, 'The_ Lord make us
thankful for His Son's sake' or For what
we are about to receive the Lord make us
thankful' At her breakfast table, where
the Queen appears as the woman and lays
aside the, queen, she frequently says grace.
I dined the other day infdrmally with the
Lord,Mayor of London. He came from the
Bench where he sits as a magistrate daily,
laid aside his robes and triple gold chain, which
are the insignia of his office, and approached
thedin - nertable, around which stood Beve
-1 ral gentlemen. In a simple and, unaffected
manner be said grace, And asked ,hie guests
to be seated. Nor is thiii cant. The . .
mer
chants of London have an outspoken way
of talking df religiOn, as if it was , no ap
petlage,`or ,a thing of which they need be,
ashamed. They gather , in• their counting
rooms for prayer ; have clubs that ,nicet
weekly for studying the Bible; go ,among
the lowly and neglected on Sunday, 'gather
little congregations where the regular,
ministry cannot go, and form• that, great
column, five thousand strong, who on every,
Sunday go out to• do among the masses their
work for their Master."
THE NEW PROTEBT.!..
BY REV. M. sHBELEIcur,
Well clone! ye faithful thousands gathered where,
Long time agone, the mighty Luther , spoke' •
I His grand "Hier' stehe Ich," which rent the Yoke
Of Papal rule, and'charged' the cireling air, -
With echoes greeting still the pilgrims there
Ye . eame the grace armighty to invoke,
And break—as mid-sky hush by thunder's broke—
,•,, e •
UPon his ear who fills Rome's -pontiff chair
A Proteet, Vi , tl.l the, ring of that from Spires,
'To brave in holy scorn and backward beat
*His foul approach of cunning and deceit,—
Defying, thus, base arts as , well as fires ;
And then, without, rounds Luther's statue, voice and
soul
"Ein' f este Burg" in choral waves to roll.
* 'fhirty,thousand German Protestants assembled
at'Worms, on the 31st of last May, to make re
sponse worthy of the country of Luther, to a pre
sumptuous invitation of Pope Pio Nono to all dis
senters to return to the bosom of th e Romish Church.
After. doing their work nobly and well, they gath
ered round the great Luther Monument, in the open
square of the city, and united their voices like the
sound of many waters in singing Luther's celebrated
hymn of faith in God :
" EIN' FEST& BURG IST UNSER GOTT."
—Lutheran Observer
BUDGET OF AN.EODOTES
—An old lady on a steamboat observed tvio
men pumping Up. water to wash the deck, and ,
the captain being near, she accosted him as fol
lows " Well, captain, got a well aboaid, eh ?"
"Yes, ma'am always carry one," said the polite
captain. " Well, that's Clever. 1 always dis
liked this nasty river water, especially in the dog
days."
-The Mother's Magazine tells of a little girl
who, upon being told' at Sunday-school that Hea
ven was all Sunday, went thoughtfully homeund
asked :
Mardnia,, when I go to Heaven, do you not
think that if I am very good, God will sometimes
let me go out of Heaven for a little, on. Saturday
afternoons, to play ?"
—A Paris paper gives a conversation bStween
a father and his little daughter. " What. have
you done with your doll ?" " I have put it
away to keep for my children; 'when I grow up."
" But if you shouldn't have any ?" " Ah, well I
then it will do for my grandchildren."
—An old Scotchman of Boston used to say :
)
" I'M ope to conviction; but I'd like to see the
man that ansconvince me." Old Minister Wells,
the
,prede essor of the Rev. Dr. Storrs, of Brain
tree, M s., himself a Scotchman, used to• says—"
It be ooveth a Scotchman to be right ;.for if he
_he wrong, he will be forever and • 'eternally
wrong."
—Many yearspgo the good people of Lyme,
Conn., were earnestly, opposed in their efforts to
settle a pastor over the -only church in town, by
a cross-grained man by the name of Dorn At a
parish meetink, while the matter was under dis
cussion, a half-witted fellow arose and said he
wanted to tell a dream he had last night:—" I
thought," be said, " that I died and went away,
where- wicked people go, and as soon as Satan,
saw me, he asked where I came from. ' From,
Lyme, Conn.,' I told him right out. '9h ! and
what' were they doing in Lyme ?' he asked:
`They are trying to settle apinister,' I answered.
Settle a minister l' he cried,'' I must stop, that.,
tribg rite tni , boots ; I must go to Lymp this
very night. I then• told him as he was drawing
on his boots that Mr. Dorr was 4:ipposing,'the set:
dement, and likely he would prevent it alto
gether. My sarvent Doff,' exclaimed his Ma
jesty. ,':ay sarvent Dorr I Here, take my booti,
if my sarvent Dorr is at work, there is no need
of my going at all.' " This, speeph did the busi
ness. ' 'Dorr made no further oPpoSitipn.
The minister as settled, but hia opponent car
ried the title of my ",,sarvent Dore with him, to
his grave.
—The Principal of a Scotch ,Theological
School was made moderator of a PreslT. e , ry
which had met to examine a candidate with
view to his ordination The young man was to
be examined in theology, and also to give a qe.
cimen of his preaching power. His tbeolonical
examination was satisfactory , and the trial-ser.
mon was excellent. After he had retired all
expressed themselves well satisfied, when Prin.
cipal Robinson rose, and quietly said, that th e
young man was worthy ordination, but he must
in all frankness say that the sermon was not his
own. The young man had found it in a volum e
of sermons, long since out of print, and how h e
could have obtained it was a mystery. This
statement ,of the president of the council was
quite serious, and the candidate was recalled,
and the question , was put to him, " Was the ser
-132011 you preached to us your own production?"
The young man frankly .said it was not; it was
one he had heard Principal Robinson preach
some months before, and he liked it so well that
he bad written it out and preached it as a better
thing than he could do. The eyes of the assem
bly turned from the young man to the Principal,
who felt the mortifying position in which he was
placed. The young man was ordained without
any utoreAuestions.,
TEMPERANOE ITEMS.
Avery large percentage , of the losses of in
surance companies is traceable to the use of
intoxicating liquors as a beverage. The British
Temperance Provident Life Assurance Office has
now. had an experience of Eitquarter of a century,
and has attained a great commercial success. It
was comtneneed originally for the use of teetotal
lives, and at moderate 'rates, dopying the best
established institutions, and was.founded on the
maim/ principle, the prdfits being added to the
policy at the end of every five years. In the
course of time, however, another idea was sug
gested. That of assuring . ifie lives 'of moderate
drinkers (after , careful examination); but' keeping
the books'of each class quite separate, so as to
illustrate, by the pecuniary , result, the real facts
as to health and longevity. After four quin
quennial periods, it has been found that, while
on,apolicy of £lOOO the moderate drinker re
ceives a bonus of X 400200), the teetotaler will
receive a,bonus of £6O ($300), which expresses
an increased value of life equal to one-third. In
other words, within a given time; and at a cer
tain
. age, three careful drinkers will die, out of
every; one hundred Persons, for one abstainer.
This ,same—corripany published a tabular state
'mecit;several years'ago, , showing that the average
;per cent. of their losses, as compared with several
other popular companies, was as seven to t*enty
.
six.' In this country the 'experience of, life in
surance companies is dembnstrative of the same
gietit' principle, shoWing most clearly the pro
priety and justice of giving to total abstainers
the full advantage of their increased longevity.
not only in lower rates of 'insurance, but in the
more rapid accumulation 'of the earnings of each
company.
—A letter published in the Boston Aration
shows conclusively from, ; well ascertained data,
that during the years of the enforcement of the
Prohibitory Law in Massachusetts, the increase
of property valuation was far greater than when
it was left a dead letter. The writer, J. H.
Orne, says : During the two years of prohibi
tion, 1866 and '67, the personal property of the
State increased nine and one-half per eent.; in
1868, it increased only two and two-thirds per
cent. From 1840 to 1850, and from 1850 to
1860, Boston increased her valuation ten millions
annually. From 186,0 to 1865, twelve millions
annually, while from 1865 to 1867, during two
years of prohibition, the increase reached thirty
six and one-half millions annually. From IS6I
to 1868, or during six nlonths.of prohibition and
six months of free rum, there was an increase
only of eighteen millions; showing a decrease of
one-half. This falling off, was also in personal
property. During the two years of prohibition,
het increase was seven per cent., but last year
only Otte and one-third per cent.; yet, notwith
standing these facts, some of her merchants will,
,in. public meetings, speak of the commercial ad
:vantages of the rum-traffic." The town of Bev
erly increased her valuation from 1840 to 1860,
seven per cent, annually; while Salem, with su
perior advantages of railroad connections, where
the law was not enforced, increased her valuation
only two per cent. Beverly, during the years
1866 and 1867, increased her valuation seven
and one-half per cent.; while Salem, during those
two years of prohibition, having lifted from her
a burden under which she had been staggering
fdr twenty-five years, increased her valuation
eighteen per cent.; showing conclusively that the
enforcement of the law in regard to the sale of
liquor was the cause of this extraordinary in
crease. The letter of Messrs. Ames &. Sons, the
great'agrieultural implement makers, shows that
each Man's production in their factory was about
fourteen per cent. greater ingB67 than in 186 S,
for the two months, indicated. Applying that
percentage to the whole productive industry of
the State, which, in, the year , ending May lot.
1865, was valued at $517,240,613, makes the
skim upward of seventy-two million dollars."
The largest Episcopal church in Rich
mond, Va., under its, new pastor, Bev. De.
Fulton, recently of Columbus, Ga., has its
own fashion of taking up Sunday collec
tions. At the designated time the deacons
pass round the contribution •boses to the
congregation. They return to the altar,
where the pastor receives the collection. If
the BishOp is present, it is , passed very cere
moniously to his hands. He then, in solemn
prayer, consecrates it to the service of the
Lord. In the absence of the Bishop, the
'pastor himself; in. a similar manner, conse
crates the collection. In either case every
elm of the congregation who has that day
3- dontributed is required to rise while the
collection is consecrated. Those who have
not contributed, of course retain their seats.
All who do not give are thus made quite as
conspicuous as those who do give. And no
one being particularly partial, to such pub
licity, the effect is to make every one con
tribute at leasit a mite—or, stay away ?
—lipward to a soul, is inward; outward .'
downward. the-centre it the highest; the r'
eumferenee , is lowest —Bromley.