VOL. 43.
The Huntingdon Journal,
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'WM. P. & R. A. ORBISON, AttorneysAbLaw, N 0.321
TY Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. All kinds oflegal
business promptly attended to. Sept.l2,'7B.
TAIL G. B. HOTCIIKIN, 825 Washington Street, Hun
1J ti n gdon junel4-1878
DCALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, Brd street.
V. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & Wil
liamson. [apl2,ll
DR. A.B. BRUDiBAUGH, offers his professional services
to the community. Office, N 0.623 Washington street,
one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. Lia 04,71
D R t . o H pr Y ae S t
c r e LT h , i. h. p ls ro c e rn i l: n n . ently located[iin.A.levryria
"V C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's
XI. building, in the room iormerly occupied by Dr. E.
J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '7B.
G
EO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street,
Huntingdon, Pa. [n0v17,'75
GL. ROBB, Dentist, o ffi ce in S. T. Brown's new building,
IX. No. 620, Penn Street, llnntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l
IT C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn
11. Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l
T SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon,
•
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Street. Dan4,7l
T W. itrATI'ERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim
e) • Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the
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pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of
fice on Penn Street. [jan4,'7l
T S. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
ii. Huntinedon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo
site Court House. [febs,'7l
SE. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa.,
~ office in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
and careful attention given to all legal business.
[augs,74-6mos
NEW
STOCK OF CLOTHING
S. WOLF'S.
S. WOLF has just received a large stock of
CLOTHING, from the east, which he offers very
cheap to suit these panicky times. Below are a
few prices:
Men's good black suits $l2 50
" cassimere suits 8 50
diagonal (best) 14 00
Warranted all wool suits 10 00 up
Youth's black suits 10 00 up
Cassimere suits 6 50
Diagonal (best) 11 50
Boys' suits 4 50 up
Brown and black overalls 50
Colored shirts 35 up
Fine white shirts 1 00 up.
Good suspenders 18 up
Best paper collars per box 15
A large assortment of hats 75 up
Men's shoes 1 50 up
Large Assortment of TRUNKS, VALI
LISES and SATCHELS at
PANIC PRICES.
Trunks from $2 00 up
Umbrellas from 60 up
Ties and Bows very low.
Cigars and Tobacco very cheap.
Be sure to call at S WOLF'S store No. 420 Penn
Street, southeast corner of the Diamond.
sepl'76; SAMUEL MARCH Agt.
Patents
obtained for Inventors, in the United States, Cana
da, and Europe at rednced rates. With our prin
cipal office located in Washington, directly opposite
the United States Patent Office, we are able to at
tend to all Patent Business with greater promptness
and despatch and less coat, than other patent attor
neys, who are at a distance from Washington, and
who have, therefore, to employ"aasociate attorneys .' 1
We make preliminary examinations and furnish
opinions as to patentability, free of charge, and all
who are interested in new inventions and Patentsare
invited to send for a copy of our "Guide for obtain
ing Patents," which is sent free to any address, and
contains complete instruction', how to obtain Pat
ents, and other valuable matter. We refer to the
German-American National Bank, Washington, D.
C. / the Royal Sweedish, Norwegian, and Danish
Legations, at Washington; Ron. Joseph Casey,
late Chief Justice U. S. Court of Claims; to the
Officials of the U. S. Patent Office, audio Senators
and Members of Congress from every State.
Address: LOUIS BAGGER k CO., Solicitors
of Patents and Attorneys at Law, Le Droit Building,
Washington, D. C. [apr26 '7B-tf
ADO mANHOOD:
HOW LOST, HOW RESTORED!
Just published, a new edition of DR. CULVERWELL'S
CELEBRATED ESSAY on the radicalcure (without med
icine) of SPERILATOB.RECEA or Seminal Weakness, Invol
untary Seminal Losses, IMPOTENCY, Mental and Physical
Incapacity, Impediments to marriage, etc.; also Consump
tion, Epilepsy and Fits, induced by self-indulgence or
sexual extravagance, &c.
44... Price, in a sealed envelope, only six cents.
The celebrated author, in this admirable Essay, clearly
demonstrates, from a thirty years' successful practice,
that the alarming consequences of self-abuse may be rad
ically cured without the dangerous use of internal med
icine or the application of the knife ; pointing out a mode
of cure at once simple, certain and effectual, by means
of which every sufferer, no matter what his condition may
be, may cure himself chea,ly, privately and radically.
sri3„, This Lecture should be in the hands of every youth
and every man in the land.
Sent, under seal, in a plain envelope, to any address,
post-paid, on receipt of six cents, or two postage stampsi
Address the Publishers,
THE CULVERWELL MEDICAL CO.,
41 Ann St., N. Y; Post Office Box, 4586.
July 19-9moa.
CIILDREN TO INDENTURE.
A number of children are in the Alms House
who will be Indentured to suitable parties upon
application to the Directors. There are boys and
girls from two to eleven years of age. Call upon
or address, The Directors of the Poor of Hunting
don county, at Shirleysburg. [oct4, '7B-tf
FOR SALE.—Stock of first-class old
established Clothing Store. Store room for
rent. Owner retiring from business.
Sept 27-3m] H. RCMAN.
Ucan make money faster at work for na than at any
thing else. Capital not required ; we will start you
$l2 per day At home made by the industrious. Men
women, boys and girls wanted everywhere to work
for us. Now is the time. Costly outfit and terms free.
Address Tea & Co., Augusta, Maine. Laprs '7B-ly
Bbusiness you can engage in. $5 to $2O per day
os i t z r e o b w y n ally wdotritarAifrteiietluier se
lars L, d right in
worth $5 free. Improve your spare time at
this business. Address STINDON & Co., Portland, Maine.
aprs '7B-ly
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Printing
The Huntingdon Journal,
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THE NEW JOURNAL BUILDING,
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HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA,
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The JOURNAL is one of the best
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homes weekly, and is read by at least
5000 persons, thus making it the BEST
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JOB DEPARTMENT
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Sir All letters should be addressed to
J. A. NASH,
Huntingdon, Pa.
Ely giust? (olutr.
Just a whisper from the skies,
In the bush of midnight dreary,
Clasped with peace the aching eyes,
Bore their little sufferer weary
Home, to rest in heaven's sweet morrow ;
While far round our footsteps spread
Depths of wild, unwavering sorrow,
Baby's dead !
Still around the brow so fair
More than earthly beauty lingers :
Gently smooth the falling hair,
Fold the tiny frozen fingers ;
Twine the curls so proudly tended,
In a halo round the head ;
Pride and hope alike are ended,
Baby's dead !
Lonely to the hopeless tomb
Darling child ! how shall we yield thee?
From its drear, corroding gloom
Love would freely die to shield thee.
Can we bear that dust should gather
Round our darling's golden head ?
Spare the bitter cup, 0 Father,
Baby's dead!
Dead ! and light is quenched in tears,
Hopes that blossomed but to wither,
Sunny dreams of after years
Lost in death's cold stream forever.
Sun and moon and stars are smitten
With despair's dark night o'erspread :
Round the universe is written,
Baby's dead !
Darling, from your slumbers deep,
Mother calls—will you not waken ?
In that lone mysterious sleep,
Do you drerm of hearts forsaken?
Safe where joys ne'er droop and languish ,
Are you watching overhead
Oh, the passion of the anguish,
Baby's dead !
Peace at last, may hush the strife,
Where no mists of.parting sever,
We may greet thee crowned with life,
Clasp thee in our love forever.
But to-night, bereft and lonely,
Yearn we for our treasure fled,
While weird echoes answer only,
Baby's dead !
00000000
E4t *torLl-Etiltr.
Old Boscawan's Ward.
It was a stormy night, on a bleak New
England coast. The wind and rain kept
driving pitilessly, and the white, hungry
waves came thundering over the sandhills,
and breaking in cataracts of foam upon
the desolate, rocky shore. In a room of a
little cottage, built so close to the sea that
some of the breakers, more aggressive than
the rest, seemed almost to threaten to over
whelm it, old Roger &seawall sat smoking
his pipe beside the fire, that roared up the
wide, old fashioned chimney as if in defi
ance of the tempest of wind and rain out.
side.
"Bless me ! Leah, do you hear the
storm ?"
"Yes, father."
It was a strangely beautiful face that
looked up into the weather-beaten one of
the old man from the shadow of the pro
jectiug angle of the fire place, and strangely
out of place it seemed among the rough
surroundings of the fisherman's cabin.
Large and lustrous were the eyes of Oriental,
midnight darkness, white lidded and long
lashed. The forehead low but broad, around
which the luxuriant hair was braided in
heavy classic coils; the cheek of dusky
carmine, and the mouth sweet and expres
sive, and perfect in its curves and the
dimples that it showed when it parted in a
smile. Many people have often wondered
how old Roger came to have a daughter
equally unlike himself and her brother.
"I pity any craft that is out to night,"
the old man went on. "I have lived on
this coast for more than fifty years, man
and boy, and I never saw a wilder night
than this"
Leah did not answer. She had risen
from her seat, and, crossing the room, was
looking out of the window, seaward. She
could see nothing through the pane except
the driving storm, and the red, lurid lamp
of the lighthouse, but in the other direc
tion could be discerned a few twinkling
lights of the fishing village, and farther
toward the town, among its dark clumps of
evergreen, the windows of Hallam Lodge
ablaze with light. Hallam Lodge was the
oldest and grandest house for miles around,
and was owned by the man whose name it
bore, the direct descendant of Ralph Hal
lam, Colonel in the Parliamentary armies,
who bad crossed the ocean for his princi
pies, and laid the first stone of this new
dwelling place more than 200 years ago.
Suddenly the tramp of approaching feet
was heard through the storm outside, and
the next minute the door opened to admit
Stephen, old Roger's son, and three other
men, who carried the insensible body of a
man between them. He was a fine, hand
some fellow, this son of the old fisherman,
but utterly unlike his sister, both in feature
and in complexion, having a clear, ruddy
skin, though somewhat browned with ex
posure to the weather; honest blue eyes,
and curling, chestnut hair He might
have sat to an artist for a picture of some
old Norse viking's son, but a tender look
came into his face, and his voice assumed
a softer tone as he spoke to the girl.
"It is the young gentleman that they say
is going to marry Miss Edith Hallam," he
said, as they laid the unconscious man on
the warm hearthstone before the fire. "His
yacht struck on the rocks below the light
house, and all bands were lost but him
He has a breath of life iu him yet, though,
and we may pull hint through. Give me
some of that rum out of the closet, little
sister."
She did so in silence, and then, in obedi
ence to her brother's command, knelt down
and chafed the wet, white hands of the un
conscious man, while Sterhen poured sonic
of the spirits dcwn his throat.
She could not help admiring the hand
some face, so still and pallid, supported on
her brother's knee. The features were
regular and highbred, with dark, black
curls falling over the high, white forehead.
She was thinking, too, what handsome
hands they were into which she was try
ing to rub returning life—almost as small,
and how much better than her own—when
a sharp knock came to the door, and a
young lady, tall but stately, swept into the
cabin and knelt beside the unconscious
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"I am his c.lusin, and it is my right,"
she said sweet!y, yet decisively, as she took
the hands, to which the warmth of life was
slowly beginning to return, between her
own.
:CIA L'
Leah relinquished them at once, and
shrank back to her position in the shadow
of the fireplace, with a feeling itkher breast
she had never known before. This tall,
stately young lady was Miss Edith Hal
lam, the heiress of the lodge, and she was
only Leah Boscawan,a fisherman's daughter.
She could not analyze the cause that made
her mind dwell so bitterly upon the fact,
yet it did in spite of herself, and the
knowledge of the great social gulf fixed be
"Baby's Dead."
LItTYTINGDON, PA,, FRIDAY MARCH 21, 1879.
tween them filled her with a greet, vague
regret.
. .
In less than half an hour the young man
was sufficiently revived to thank his pre
servers and accompany his cousin in her
carriage, which waited outside, to the lodge.
He thanked them all most cordially. To
the three uteri who had assisted him he
gave money, and to Stephen, his card,
which showed his name to be Frank Ver
non, and promised to call t he next day and
thank them again. Both the old man ani►l
his son were taken with his manner, and
spoke in praise of him and his supposed
betrothed ; but Leah, sitting silent in the
Aadow, said nothing, brooding in silence
over her newly awakened thoughts, with
vague, rebellious feelings against her des
tiny surging in her heart.
The storm did not abate that night, nor
the next day. Neither did the next day
bring Frank Vernon to the cottage, but he
sent a m ssage saying he was too unwell to
leave the house. When night again fell.
the wind was still driving the heavy rain
along he shore, and the fury of the sc
seemed unabated. The old man and his
daughter sat in their old positions beside
the fire and li4ened to the storm without.
"Leah," the man said ; F.‘reJltiiir the
silence, ••where is Stephen to night ?"
She had beer► busy with hit. own
thoughts, intently gazing into the glowing
acd she raised her nee. aglow with
the firelight, to his. Then with a cry of
alarm, she sprang from her seat and caught
his head, which was failing forward un his
basom. in her arms.
"Father, speak to the. What is the
matter ?" she cried, gazinc , with a great
dread at the set and rigid features and
lips, from which all color had fled, leaving
them white as ashes.
"Leah," the old man gasped, "I am dy
ing. Quick—old Mr. Hallam at the lodge.
I must see him. Tell him I sent for him,
and he will come."
The gray head fell back upon the chair
as he spoke. The girl, nearly frantic, and
not knowing what to do, kissed him in a
wild, frenzied way, and then dashed out
into the night and storm.
It was a long way. more than a mile,
but she did not mind fatigue. She did not
feel it any more than she felt the stormy
sweep of rain that drenched her to the
skin. Her mind had room only for one
thooght—that she might be too late.
She reached the house at last, and de
livered her utessa.7.,e to Mr. Hallman in
person, and then her overstrained faculties
gave way, and she sauk in a swoon on the
floor. When she came to her senses again
she was lying in a white•curtained bed in
a room finer than she had ever seen be
fore, and bending over her was the stately
young lady who had come to her father's
cottage the night before.
"Has he gone ?" she asked.
"Yes," the lady answered; "hd is in*,
him now."
She would have risen at once and re
turned through the storm through which
she had come, but the lady was kindly
resolute and firm, and forced her to lie
quiet and wait.
An hour passed—it seemed an eternity
to Leah—when the door opened and Mr.
Hallam entered, still dripping with the
rain. He crossed the room to the couch
and took her hand in his
"My poor child," he said, "you cannot
go home to-night—this is to be your home
from this time forth."
She looked at him in dumb amazement.
"You are my daughter now," he said,
"and you must learn to look on me as you
would your father."
"And he ?" she cried out, flinging up
her arms with an unconscious gesture of
entreaty. _ _
"YoU must bear it calmly, poor child,"
he answered her. "He is dead."
How it chanced that she should become
the adopted daughter of the weilthy Mr
Hallam was much of a mystery to Leah,
even when months had passed, and, the
sorrow for her father beginning to wear off,
she became more accustomed to her uew
position. Mr. Hallam was kindness per
sonified; but from the rest of the house
hold her quick instincts held her aloof.
They were all kind to her, but au indefinable
something fell, though not expressed. that
she was not to the •manor born," and a
sort of interloper, raised a barrier between
them. As for the visitors, of whom there
were many, of course this had nothing to
do; but stili the feeling was in her mind
the same, and she became cold and reserved.
As for Frank Vernon, he became fasci
nated by her—so much so that it became
a subject of remark. At last he proposed,
and she accepted him.
She did not love him, but she liked his
society, and she loved no one else, and felt
proud of his talents and handsome person,
as any girl would have done She made a
condition, howaver, that their engagement
should be kept a secret until her brother
Stephen, who had gone on a voyage of
several months, should return.
A week afterward. Stephen came She
was almost beside herself' with delight at
seeing him. It would have been a revela
tion to any one who only knew her as the
stately, Juno-like beauty of the lodge, to
see her hang about his neck. and kiss him
again and again through hor joyful te:ir,
At length she told him how Frank Ver
non had asked her to be his wife, and she
had accepted him The change that came
over him startled her His face gi . eiv
as death to the very lips, and a wiid
swept over his eyes—only for a tnouient,
however, and then he brushed the back
his hand across his eyes and forced a stuih!
"Leah," he said in a voice that trembled
in spite of his efforts to keep it c a lm, '•it
it is f•or your happiness I will try to b•-ar
it. I have had dreams, when I kept try
lonely watches, that some time you might
love me well enough to be something
nearer to me than a sister. I see what a
fool I have been now—you a lady and an
heiress, while I am but a poor tisherwah
—but let it pass; the memory of my litae
sister will always be the dearest thing I
can have on earth
She stood thunderstruck htr a ! t pnear,
almost deeming him mid.
"What du you mean r she managed to
gasp at length.
"Du you not know ? Hare they not told
you," he cried, "that you are not my fa
tiler's daughter, not my sister, but the only
child of Mr. Hallam's brother. and the
lawful mistress of Hallam Lodge ?"
The color faded from her face, leaving
it so pallid that he thought she was wing
to faint Then, as quickiy the warm bland
rushed back again, suffusing her face to
the very roots of her Lair
"Are you sure of this ?" she asked.
"As sure as of my own life," he an
swered. "I heard it when Mr. Hallam
did, from father's dying lips, and saw the
documents to prove hia words. I know I
should not have spoken to you as I did ;
but forget it all, Leah—"
"It is so sudden," she interrupted him,
"but Ido not wish to forget them. They
'have lost me my brother, it is true, but
they have also t;ond me something nearer,
though dearer he could never be. Stephen,
to k into my eyes and tell me were your
dretans FO very wild, after all ?"
Of course Mr. Hallam was very much
distppointed. and Frank Vernon even more
so The one. however, bound consolation
io being allowed to retain Hallam Lodge,
and the other by returning to his old love
a=id marrying Kdith. bosh and her hus
band are happy in each other's love—what
'two need be said ?
tictt
The Amazon.
JUST ABOUT THE GREATEST RIVER TN
THE WORLD.
Extensive, important and profitable as
cur rivers are in respect to commerce and
development of the country, they are
wholly unequal to the rivers of South
Ameri,:a. The Amazon alone furnishes a
hest of watery resources, and is fitly tram
ed the Meriir railcars of that continent.
Tuletiter its tributtiri , s, it is naviga
ble by steamers, according to official re-
Th.-rts, for 26,858 miles; its average breadth
in Brazil is 4 wiles; it rises, when high,
54 feet above its ordinary level, and its
volume is so vast that s'iilors at sea drink
its water and find it fresh out sight of land,
its current being visible 500 miles from
shore. The volume of the principal riv
ers of our sister continent is, in proportion
to the area drained, far greatar than the
volume of rivers here, on account of in
creased rain-fall The annual rain-fall on
our Atlantic coast averages from forty to
forty five inches; on the cost of Brazil ;
seventy-nine inches. The main channel
of the Amazon is, for the first. 1.000
mile from the ocean, nowhere less than
thirty fathoms. Beyond the Peruvian
frontier 't continues to be a big river mare
than 1,000 miles into the heart of the
Andes, the head of steam navigation being
at. Nayro, (Peru), 3,623 wiles from the
Atlantic and 325 miles from Lima by pub
lic roads; so that it is only 331 miles from
Callao—the port of Lama—on the Pacific,
to the head of steam navigation on the
Amazon. Peruvian railways will soon
bring steamers on the Amazon within
one day's travel of the Pacific, and Peru
vian enterprise will speedily improve
Andean communication and open the
interior of south America to civilization
and commerce The tributaries of the
Amazon are longer than the largest rivers
rElurope. The Muderia is navigable by
ntlaers to its falls, on the Bolivan frontier
i 1,000 miles, and above the falls its
taries furnish 4,300 wiles of continu
4aii,4team navigation, thus rendering com
!)nelgtially accessible the whole of Bolivia
and the western part of the Brazilian
provinte of Malto Grosso. Brazil has
lately, granted a subsidy to a foreign
country o build a railway around the
Falls of Madeira. The large rivers, Napo,
Maroni, and Putumayo, are navigable from
the Amazon, through Ecuador and Colum
bia, for almost 1,000 miles beyond the
frontier of Brazil to the Andes, within
400 miles of Quito and Guayaquil, and so
open communication with all the region of
Ecuador east of the Cordilleras. The Rio
Negro, entering the Amazon at Manaos.
some 1.100 miles from the Atlantic, rises
near Bogota, Columbia's capital, passes
through Southern Venezuela very close to
the Orinoco, and is a channel of trade be
tween Venezuela and Brazil, while the
Orinoco is navigable for sail and steam
vessels from the ocean to the Andes, in
Columbia. Thus, the Amazon and its
tributaries are commercial highways for
Venezuela, Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, RJ
livia, Brazil, and are navigable for steamers
a greater distance than is included in the
globe's circumference.
Elaborate Education.
The idea that the public schools are in
tended to furnish a practical education to
the various pupils therein, is being largely
agitated Throughout the various school
districts of the several States, popular
opinion seems to be averse to general edu
cation in minor accomplishments, as one
prejudicial to the many at the expense of
the few. In this connection, a contempo
rary remarks : "The more branches our
schools teach, the less the pupils learn "
The reason is therefore explained, and it
that "the time is so cut up" that but
little space is devoted to one study. In
this country all go to school. Of the
number, however, the majority cannot spare
the time required for a preparatory train
ing that involves the higher branches; all
of which are eminently proper and useful,
provided the scholar can devote due time
to their acquisition. Failing in that, if
the system is especially constructed on a
more elaborate plan, the tuition of the mere
incidental pupil mug be fragmentary and
incomplete. In brief, there should be
some practical plan in which, while it
wGuld not involve an attendance or years,
would, in a (Train specified time, transmit
correct views as to reading, writing, arirh
inetie :ind ge•graphy at the outstart. Here
in, at. least it. eight ca , es out of ten, or
olinary scho unds. A public school is
not, by virtue of the will or wish of the
taxpayers ,of any locality. a university or
college. The idea dot s not involve the im
partation of accomplishments, but simply
the acqui:itiou -of the rudiments, that after
experience can build upon the perfect.
Tnose more fortunate in circumstances may
'vomit' and be ,dvarieed, but, at the same
time. it is neither wise uor expedient that
the f.rtner shall suffer in order that the
more refined systems shall be pursued Any
plan that has for its object the education
of the greatest number in the least possible
time, is surely or essential service and
should be appreciated Yet, after all, the
best, because most useful training is re.
ceivtd in of er years. provided a solid sub
stratum of discipline and thought is laid
in early years. This is the mission of the
public schools to accomplish.
A CHAIR broke down in a suburban par
for last Sunday, and in the confusion the
buckle on the belt of the young lady who
happened to be in the room made a clean
sweep of the vest-buttons of a young man
who had call,d to borrow a hymn book.
THE young woman who can peel a potato
in five seconds, is as useful as the young
woman who speaks five languages is orna
mental.
A MINISTER who had been preaching a
series of strong sermons against future pun
ishment, called them patent fire escapes.
RHEUMATISM is always a joint affair,
and yet there is only one party in it.
Methodism--No. 3.
SKETCHES OF ITS EARLY HISTORY
J. R. FLANIGEN
From the Philadelphia Record.]
It was te..t until after the revolution and
the treaty of peace with the mother coun
try that American Methodism was enabled
to shake off the elements of obstruction
that seemed, up to that time, to cling about
stud hamper its progress. Filtered out
from what must, in candor, he stated as
the corruption of the English Church. it
was not only stubbornly resisted by the
adherents of that establishment, but was
more or less embarrassed by a still linger
ing affection on the part of many of the
leaders for the traditional forms and mem
ories among, which they had been reared.
It is very clear that Mr. Wesley had no
idea of establishing a new Church or re
ligious denomination when be began his
work, and much less had he a conception
of the magnitude of the structure that
would ke reared from the modest effort of
his early dais He was,. to a very great
extent. the creature of' circumstances, sin
core, earnest and zealous in his own pur
p.se, but censtantly controlled by a supe
rior power Ile clung to the Established
Church with a tenacity and a reverence
for its traditions that were both natural
and characteristic, and, as has already been
seen, it was with great reluctance that he
betook himself to the fields and sheds of
the mining districts after the doors of the
churches had been closed against him and
his followers, and it was probably needful
that he should for a time be abused, ma
ligned, haunted, as it were, and pelted
with stones and other missiles as he was, to
strengthen his purpose and make more de
termined his resistance to the error and
immorality which had not. crept into, but.
absolutely permeated, the Established
Church of the realm. Many men should
have yielded and succumbed to such per
secution as was for a time visited upon
him and his associates, but, guided and
sustained by Almighty power, they falter
ed not.
But it is worth while to glance just here
at the simplicity of the movement out of
which such a magcificent structure as
Methodism is to-day was evolved. The
class meeting„ which is even yet the most
vital and essential element of Methodism,
was the result of accident. It grew out
of the social relation, and was a sort of
natural emanation. Singularly enough,
what is to the general public the most ob
scure and apparently most inconsiderable
stone in this structure of Methodism was
really its chief foundation block, upon
which has been reared the towering and
massive establishment whose arms reach
out to all quarters of the globe, and whose
voice is heard in proclamation wherever
the ear of mankind can be reached. It is
thought by many persons that "the classes"
have lost march of their prestige, and we
do not doubt that, considering relative
I numbers, their efficiency is much less than
in the olden time. The truth is that Meth
odism has progressed, not alone in num
bers, in influence and in power, but also
and alas ! in the vanities with which the
world is besotted, and it may not be ques
tioned that many, very many, who are en
rolled in its great army are but whited
sepulchers, bearing only the shadow or
the profession of the Cross, without being
influenced by its spirit. The English Meth
odists cling to the class meetings with
much greater pertinacity than do the Amer
icAns. They are still considered there as
a prime test of membership, and we incline
to the opinion that this fact gives to Meth
edistu in England a better meaning than
,in America. We can imagine, however,
!why the gambler who "bulls" and "bears"
the stock market, assisting to wreck for
tunes in an hour, that he may thereby put
money in his pocket, and whose name
inscribed on the church roll, avoids the
class room, and we can also understand
how uncongenial must be the exercises
and devotions of that little room to the
lawyer who, in derogation of his profes
sional duty and practical violation of his
oath of office, will take fees from both sides
or who, to gain his cause or win his foe,
" Quibbles truth to be error and wrong to be
rigbt."
Such people who are 'members" and who
contribute largely to the establishment of
the churches and for other purposes, neg
lect or avoid this essential element or
practice of genuine Methodism, and hence
the complaint, that is frequently uttered,
that while the churches seem to be in a
most flourishing condition, "the love of
God" abideth not in them as of yore.
We have said
was
the origin of the
class meeting was the result of accident,
and that it grew out of the social relation.
Perhaps we should qualify the statement
of the accident, but the origin was thus:
On a certain occasion Mr. Wesley was ask
ed to meet a few pertions who felt that they
needed advice, counsel and, doubtless, en
couragement, and he did so. The result
was so satisfactory that they met again,
and again, and yet again, the number of'.
those present being increased from time to
time by invitation. Out of this casual cir
cumstance. grew the weekly class meetings.
In 1742, the societies in England beinu
largely increased, they were divided into
classes consisting of twelve members each,
with one of the number as "the leader."
Mr. Wesley., says : "In the latter end of
the year 1739 eight or ten persons came
to we in London and desired that I would
spend some time with them in prayer, and
advise them how to flee the wrath to come.
This" he adds, "was the rise of the United
Society ;" and Bishop Simpson, says : "It
was at Bristol, February 15. 1742 whilst
discussing the subject of debt" (wonderful
concomitant of life) "that one arose and
proposed that every member of the society
should pay one penny a week ; another
said that some was so poor that they could
net afford it, when the first replied : 'Put
eleven of the poorest with me, and, if they
can give nothing, I will give for them as
well as for myself, and each of you call
upon eleven weekly, receive what they can
afford and make up the difference.' From
this sprung forth this mighty organiza
tion."
Primitive enough, certainly; twelve men
in a class with a leader, out of which grew
"stewards" to gather the fund and dis
burse it to the men who would go on cir
cuit to preach, and, as the plant develops—
first the little shoot above the ground, then
the bud, then the leaf, then the blossom,
and finally the fruit, full grown and ripe
—so did "this mighty organization," as
the Bishop terms it, evolve from an insig
nificance of beginning that is, in compari
son, simply astounding.
It seems impossible to proceed with this
subject without pausing for a moment to
contemplate the wonderful growth that
has resulted from such a beginning. "Pre
vision and exact calculation," says M.
Gnizot, in his lately published 'History
of France," "do not count for so much in
the lives of Governments and peoples. It
is unexpected events, inevitable situations,
the imperious necessities of successive
epochs, which must often decide the con
duct of the present Powers and the most
able politicians." Stich is the fact. His
torians, in the seclusion of their retirement,
and in their learned way, are much given
to look back on the development of events
long past, and attribute them as results of
well-digested and systematic plans concoc
ted or arranged by the chief actors, the
truth, all the while, being that they were
produced by uncontroled and, perhaps, ir
resistable circumstances. No one can read
what thrlre is of the history cf Methodism
without coining to the conclusion stated
by the distinguished author from whom
we have quoted. Truly,
"There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough hew them as we will."
And while we agree to Guizot's propo
sition, as applicable to the doing of teen,
we know that Ile
"Who reins the wind, gives the
Vast ocean bounds,
And circumscribes the floating
Worlds their rounds,"
e - mld alone have piloted to such a fruition.
But we must localize our subject, and get
into the field of Philadelphia Methodis:n
of the olden time.
We remarked in a previous article that
the oldest Methodist church edifice in
America stands in this city. It is St.
George's and is located on the east side of
Fourth street. between Race and Vine
streets, and we shall not err, we think, if
we give to it the distinction of being the
()West Methodist church edifice in the
world. The rude hand of progress, by
which rivers are turned from their enurse
and mountains pierced am with a needle,
has spared to us this souvenir of the past.
We know that. it is revered by very many
for its refreshing associations, but it should
be cherished as a holy shrine, to which
Methodists from all the world might go
and worship; and the hand that would be
raised to destroy it should be palsied. The
old fort was built in 1763 by a German
Reformed society, a congregation that had
been worshipping in the neighborhood.
They failed, however, to do more than get
ting up the wall and putting a roof on the
building. The lot on which the church
stands is 55 by 85 feet. and was taken up
by the Germans on ground-rent. When
the building was roofed in the society was
much in debt, and some of the members
were put in prison on account of their in
abiiity to pay, and subsequently the church
was sold by order of the "Provincial As
sembly." It was purchased by an indi
vidual, who afterward, in November, 1769,
sold it to a member of the Methodist So
ciety for £650, Pennsylvania currency.
When purchased by the Methodists it hail
no floor and for a considerable time only
the eastern half was floored and furnished
with benches of rough boards, according
to the camp meeting style. At a time du.
ring the war, in 1777, when the city was
occupied by the British army, they took
possession of the church, and used it for
drilling their cavalry. After the peace,
Bishop Asbury took hold of the matter,
and labored most earnestly to have the
building paid for and finished; but it was
not until the year 1791 that the galleries
were erected, and at that time there were
enough Methodists in the city to fill the
house, including the galleries; but it was
yet an unfinished structure, and a few
years later the good Bishop organized an
other movement to raise means for the
completion and improvement of the house.
In later years other improvements were
made, the walls being raised so as to give
a basement for class and school rooms.
St. George's may be truthfully styled
the mother of churches From her has
sprung, either directly or remotely, all the
Methodist churches in Philadelphia. For
many years "St. George's charge" was the
controlling Tower over local Method
ism. Ail the preachers for the city were
assigned or appointed by the Conference
to "St. George's charge," and thence were
detailed to alternate in the several churches
that had grown up and which were in
"the charge." A "plan" was arranged on
the principle of the Counting House cal
ender. A would preach in the morning
at St. George's, in the evening at Ebene
zer, and the following Sunday be would
preach, say, at Salem in the morning, and
at Nazereth in the evening, while B or C
would on that day supply the pulpits which
A had occupied on the previous Sabbath,
so that the several congregations embra
ced in "the charge" had an opportunity to
hear all the preachers that were stationed
in the city alternately. The afternoon ser
vice in the churches was generally con
ducted by "local preachers," of whom there
was a fair supply in the city. These were
for the most part well to-do mechanics or
persons engaged in other occupations, some
of whom we shall have occasion to notice
in future articles.
Glorious memories and associations are
connected with old St. George's. Many
thousands have been profited by the preach
ing and the prayers which ascended from
within those walls; and other thousands,
whose spirits now bask in realms "where
seraphs gather immortality," date their
new birth from under the roof tree of the
oldest Methodist church edifice in the
country. It is the only church in the con
neetion whose date runs back one hundred
years, and was at the close of the centen
nial year of Methodism the scene of highly
interesting centenary services.
ONE of the neatest things recently said
in Washington, where neat things are
neither said nor done as often as could be
wished, wag said by Secretary Evarts at a
dinner the other night in reply to some
body who happened to have been reading
one of the regulation jokes about the Sec
retary's endless sentences and gracefully
repeated it. "Oh, nonsense," said Mr.
Evarts, good-naturedly, "I don't object to
that sort of a thing at all. People who ex
pect to injure me by calling attention to
my long sentences forget that the only
persons really opposed to long sentences in
this country are the criminal classes, whe
deserve them."
A FEW days ago a very handsome wo
man entered a dry goods house in New
York and inquired for a bow. The polite
clerk threw himself back and replied that
he was at her service. "Yes, but I want
a buff, not a green one," was the reply.
The young man went on measuring goods
immediately.
THE Princes Louise, it is said, laughs
at a five mile tramp. And so do we. In
deed, we have the most intense disgust
for it.
No person is either so happy or so un
happy as he imagines.
Training Canaries.
Canaries show a great aptitude for trick,
sometimes learning to do many amusing
and difficult things, and to sing tunes.
They sometimes come to know their masters
and mistresses, and often follow them about.
An English gentleman had a canary for
several years which never was kept in a
cage, and in summer was always flying out
to the gate or down the road to meet his
master, perching on his finger, nestling in
his bosom, or best of all, clinging in his
hair, where it was completely happy; at
the same time, only one othei person in the
house would it allow to touch it, resenting
any attempt at familiarity with the fiercest
anger. At last, however, the bold little
fellow get bewildered in a dense fog, and
was lost. Canaries can live out of doors
in our climate very well in summer, and
sometimes join the families of-wild birds;
but their house-bred constitutions can
scarcely stand the cold of winter, and es
caped birds probably perish' before the
spring. They are affectionate little crea
tures, always prefer companions, and will
make friends even with their natural ene
mies. A fancier in London bad a cat
which, with her kittens. would eat out of
the canaries' dish in the bird room, and
never thought of harming them, while the
birds seemed to enjoy Tabby's society. To
tame birds and train them to perform
tricks are two very different things. Any
one may do the first by constant quiet
kindless, endless attention and patience.
Accustom the bird to your presence, and
let it understand that, whatever you do
about it, nothing is intended for its terror
or harm This learned, teaching it to
perch on your finger, or come to your
whistle and call, is only a matter of time
and gentle patience. Some odd tricks may
be taught them if they are cute. for dif
ferent birds differ very greatly in their
ability to learn as well as their natural
tdents and dispositions; but the astonish
ing exploit' of "performing.birds" which
are exhibited about the country are all
taught to them by a cruel course of lessons.
The Germans often teach young birds the
songs and tunes of other birds, but the
operation is a slow and tedious one, and
the result is not very satisfactory.
Names.
It is nut often that we know, or remem
ber. if we do know, the origin of names
with which we are most familiar. Their
significance is frequently lost by altered
circumstances or by want of information
on our part. It is not generally known
that the Hudson was called North River
in contradistinction to the South River,
as the Delaware was formerly styled. Mas
sachusetts was so dubbed because in the
aboriginal tongue it meant "about the
great hills," i. e. the Blue Hills. Boston,
named after the English city, was origi
nally St. Bardolph's Town, of which Bos
ton, is an abbreviated corruption. Albany
was so christened in honor of the Duke of
York, and Albany (afterward-James/el-4
at the time it came into possession of-the
English (1664) Catskill is Dutch for
panther or lynx, which once infested those
mountains. Cattaraugua was so designa
ted by the Indians because they had, for
some mysterious reasons, associated it with
unpleasant odors. It means ill-smelling
Shore. This is not quite so bad as Chicago,
an Indian word signifying a fonmart,
which, judging from the complaints in
Chicago papers of the city's peculiar fra
grance, would seem to have been properly
named. Chemung means big horn, from
a fossil tusk found in the river. Crown
point is said to have been so called be
cause scalping parties were sent thence by
the French Indians. Erie signifies "wild
cat," (the Erie Railway has certainly been
a "wildcat" road, as the expression is un
derstood in the West,) and was borne by
a fierce tribe of savages exterminated by
the Iroquois. Manhattan is eminently
fitting for the Metropolis, its import being
town on the island. Mohawk was applied
by the New England tribes to the Iro
quois, from their habit of eating live food.
Niagara means neck of water; Oneida,
people of the beacon stone ; Onondaga,
place of the hills; Saratoga, place of the
miraculous waters in a rock; Ontario, a
village on a mountain—the chief seat of
the Onondagas ; Schenectady, river valley
beyond the pine trees ; Seneca, (not clas
sic. as many have supposed,) is a corrupt
Indian pronunciation of the Dutch word
cinnabar —vermillion. Jersey is a corrup
tion of Caesarea, the old Latin name of the
largest of the Channel islands, and very
unlike our sister State, which ght its title,
perhaps, by contrast.—N. Y. limes.
A Hint for Boys.
A philosopher has said that true educa
tion for boys is to "teach them what they
ought to know when they become men."
What is it they ought to know then ?
1. To be true, to be genuine. No edu
cation is worth anything that does not
include this. •A man had better not know
how to read—he had better never learn a
letter in the alphabet, and be true and
genuine in intention and action, rather
than, being learned in all sciences and
in all languages, to be at the same
time false at heart and counterfeit in life.
Above all things. teaoh the boys that truth
is more than riches, more than culture,
wore than earthly power or position.
2. To be pure in thought, language and
lire—pure in mind and in body. An im
pure man, young or old, poisoning the
society where he moves with smutty
stories and impure example, is a moral
ulcer, a plauge-spot, a leper, who ought to
be treated as were the lepers of old, who
were banished from society and compelled
to ery, "Unclean." as a warning to save
others from the pestilence.
3. To be unselfish To care for the feel
ings and comfort of others To be polite.
To be just in all dealings with others. To
be generous, noble and manly. This will
include a genuine reverence for the aged
and things sacred.
4 To be self-reliant and self helpful,
even from early childhood. To be indus
trious always and self-supporting at the
earliest proper age. Teach them that all
honest work is honorable, and that an idle
useless life of dependence on others is dis-
graceful.
When a boy has learned these things;
when be has made these ideas a part of bis
being—however young be may be, how
ever poor, or however rich, he has learned
some of the most, important things he
ought to know when be becomes a man.
With these four properly mastered, it will
be easy to find all the rest.
SAID a friend to a bookseller : "The
book trade is effected, I suppose, by the
general depression. What kind of books
feel it the most ?" "Pocket-books," was
the laconic reply.
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