,jjyaipasaafifigi v - ffjIS-ST :W'T m && WPr wgpmr? i fs 13 THE PITTSBURGH DISPATCH, SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1890. t I" with an ever - increasing enthusiasm. 'Think of Edom o'Goreon, and the "Wife ez Usher's Well, and the Baron o'Brackla; Annie of Lochrvan, Hyude Elio, the piteous cry or 'Helen or Kirkeoaocll,' and the Boss of Yarrow seeking her slain ioTsr by bank and brae. You may have treasures in your house that are unregarded; they are putaway in cabinets, and half-forgotten; but when someone asks yon to bring them out into the light, you recognize their beauty and invest them with a new value. And what could be more interesting than the collation of the various versions of those old ballads, showing how they have been altered here and there as they were said or sung, and how even important passages may have been dropped out in course of time and transmission. Look, for example, at 'Barbara Allan.' The vision in Percy's Beliques is as bad and stupid as it can be; but it is worse than that: it is incompre hensible. "Who can believe that the maiden came to the bedside of her dying lover only to flout and jeer, and that for no reason whatever? And when she sees his corpse With scornful eye she looked downe. Her cheek with laughter swellin' "Well, I say that is not true," he went on vehemently; "it never was true; it con tradicts human nature; it is false, and bad, and impossible. But turn to our Scotch version I "When Sir John Graeme, o' the "West Countrie, lying sore and sicK, sends for his sweetheart, she makes no conceal ment of the cause ot the ieud that has been between them of the wrong that is rank ling at her heart: 0 dinna ye mind, young man, said she, 'When the red wine ye were tilling. That ye made the healths gae round and round. And slighted Barbara Allan?' And proud and indignant she turns away. There is no sham laughter here; no impos sible cruelty; but a "quarrel between two fond lovers" that become suddenly tragic, when death steps in to prevent the possi bility of any reconciliation. He turned his face unto the wa And death was with lura dealms: "Adieu, adieu, my dear friends a'. Be kind to Barbara Allan!" Can anything be more simple, and natural, and inexpressibly sad as well? She hadna cane a mile hat twa, "When she heard the dead-bell knelling, And every jow that the dead-bell gave, It cried, "'oe to Barbara Allan!" "O mother, mother, mak my bed, O mak' it tast and narrow; Since my loe died for me to-day, Til die for him to-morrow." It is the story of a tragic quarrel between two true lovers: it is not the impossible and prjposterous story of a giggling hoyden grinning at a corpse!" And here it was probable that old George Bethune, having warmed to bis subject, and being as usual wildly enamored of his latest scheme, would have gone on to give further instances of the value of collation and comparison, but that Mr. Carmichael was forced to interrupt. The proprietor of the Edinburgh Chronicle was a busy man during his brief visit to town. I'Very well, Mr. Bethune," said he. "I think your idea a very good one an ex cellent one, in fact, for the weekly edition of a Scotch paper; and I will give you carte blanche as to the numberof articles. "Who, knows," he added, with a condescending smile, "but that they may grow to a book to take the place of the one that was snatched out of your hauds?" And again, as his visitors were leaving, he said in the same gooa-numorea way "I presume it is not necessary for us to discuss the question of terms, especially be fore a young lady. If you have been satis fied with us so far" "I am quite content to leave that with you: quite," interposed the old man, with some little dignity. "I was only going to say," Mr. Car michael resumed, "that & series of articles such as you suggest may require a good deal of research and trouble; to that, when the reckoning comes, I will see you are put on the most lavored nation scale. And not a word more about the American book: we m were disappointed that is all." This latter admonition was wholly un necessary. When George Bethune got out into the street again, with Maisrie as his sole companion and confidant, it was not of that lost opportunity he was talking, it was all of this new project that had seized his imagination. They had to make one or two calls, in the now gathering dusk; but ever, as they came out again into the crowded thoroughfares, he returned to the old bal lads and the opportunities they presented for a "series of discursive papers. And Maisrie was about as eager in anticipation as himself. "Oh, yes, grandfather," she said, "you could not have thought ot a happier sub ject. And you will begin at once, Grand father, won't tou? Do you think I shall be able to help you in the very least way? it would please me so much if I could pearca out these things for you, or copy, or help you in the smallest way. And I know it will be a labor of love tor you; it will be a constant delight; and all the more that the days arc getting short now, and we shall have to be more indoors. And then you heard what Mr. Carmichael said, grand father; ana it ne is going to pay you well for these articles, you will soon be able to give him back the money he advanced to you about that unfortunate book " "Ob, don'tyou bother .ibont such things!" he said, with an impatient irown. "When I am planning out an important work I don't want to be reminded that it will re sult 'n merely so many guineas. That is not the spirit in which I enter upon such an undertaking. When I write it is not with an eye to the kitchen. Unless some nobler impulse propels, then be sure the result will be despicable. However, I suppose women are like that; always the res angusta domi; when you are think'ing of the literature of your native land of perhaps adding some little tributary wreath they are looking to ward grocers' bills. The kitchen the kitchen is before them not the dales and vales f.f Scotland, where lovers loved, and were bioken hearted. The kitchen " But Maisrie was not disconcerted by this rebuke. "And von will begin at once, grand father," she said", cheerlully. "Ob, I know it will be so delightful an occupation for you. And I don't wonder that Mr. Carmichael was glad to have such a chance. Then it won't involve any expense of traveling, like the other book you thought of, about the Scotland oi Scotch songs. The winter evenings won't be so dnll, grand father, when you have this to occupy you; you will forget it is winter altogether," when you are busy with those beautiful scenes and stories. Then every Saturday morning I shall watch for the post and I hope you will make the articles long, grandfather for who can do them as well as you can? And will you tell Vincent this evening, grandfather: he will be so interested: it will be something to talk of at dinner." But Yin Harris was to hear of this great undertaking before then. When Maisrie and her grandfather reached the door of their lodgings, he said to her "You can go in now, Maisrie, and have the gases lit. I must walk alone to the library and see what books they have; but I'm afraid I shall have to get Motherwell, and Pmkerton, and Allan Cunningham, and the rest of them from Scotland. Aytoun they are sure to have, I suppose," So they parted for the moment; and Maisrie went upstairs and lit the gas in the little parlor. Then, without taking off her bonnet, she sat down, and fell into a reverie not a very sad one, as it seemed. She was sitting thus absorbed in silent fancies, when a fa miliar sound outside startled her into at tention; she sprang to her feet; the next in stant the door was opened, the next again she was advancing to the tall and hand come young stranger who stood somewhat diffidently there, and both her hands were ouutretched, and a light of joy and grati tude was shining in her eyes. "Oh, Vincent, I am so glad you have come over!" she said, in a way that was far frcin usual with her, and she held both his hands for more than a second or two, and her grateful eyes were fixed on his without any thought of embarrassment "I was thinking of you. You have been so kind so generousl I wanted to thank you, and I am so glad to have the chance" "But what is it, Maisrie? I'm sure there is nothing tou have to thank me fori" said he, as he shut the door behind him, and J came forward and took a seat not very far away from her. He was a little bewildered. In h'cr sudden excess of gratitude, when she took both his hands in hers, she had come quite close to him, and the sccntot a sandal wood necklace that she wore seemed to touch him as with a touch of herself. He knew those fragrant beads; more than once he had perceived the slight and subtle odor as she passed him, or as he helped her on with her cloak, and he had come to asso ciate it with her, as if it were part of her, some breathing thing, that could touch and thrill. And this time it had come so .near But that bewilderment of the senses lasted only for a moment. Maisrie Bethune was not near to him at all; she was worlds and worlds away. It was not a mere whiff of perfume that could bring her near to him. Always to him she appeared to be strangely unapproachable and remote. Perhaps it was the loneliness of her po sition, perhaps it was the uncertainty of her fnture, and those vague possibilities of which her grandfather had spoken, or per haps it was the reverence of undivided and unselfish love on his part; but at all events she seemed to live in a sort oi sacred and mysterious isolation to be surrounded by a spell which he dared not seek to break by any rude contact. And yet surely her eyes were regarding his with sufficient frankness and friendliness, and more than friendli ness, now as she spoke. "This afternoon we called on Mr. Car michael," said Maisrie, "Mr. Carmichael of the Edinburgh Chronicle. He told us some one had offered to repay the money he had advanced to ray grandfather on account of that American book; and thongb. he did not mention any name, do you think I did not know who it was, Vincent? Be turel knew in a moment! And you never said a word about it! I might never have known but for this accident I might never have had the chance of thankine von as as I should like to do now only only it isn't quite easy to say everything one feels" "Ob, but that is nothing at all, Maisrie!" said he, coming quickly to her rescue. "Xon have nothing to thant me for nothing! It is true I made the offer; but it was not accepted; and why should X say anything about it to you?" " "Ah, Dut the intention is enough," said she (for she knew nothing about his having paid Lord Musselburgh the 50). "And you cannot prevent my being very, very grateful to you for such thougbtfulness and kindness. To save my grandfather's self respect to prevent him being misunder stood by by strangers because because he is so forgetfnl; do you think, Vincent, I cannot see your motive, and be very, very gratetul? And never saying a word, tool You should have told me, Vincent! Bat I suppose that was still farther kindness you thought I might be embarrassed and not able to thank you which is just the case " "Ok, Maisrie, don't make a fnss about nothing!" he protested. "I know whether it is nothing or not," said she, proudly. "And and perhaps if you had lived as we have lived wandering from place to place you would set more store by an act of friendship. Friends are little to yon you have too many of them " "Oh, Maisrie, don't talk like that!" he said "Yon make me ashamed. What have I done? nothing! I wish there was some real thing I could do to prove my riendsnip for your grandfather and your selfthen youmicht see " "Haven't you proved it every day, every hour almost,since ever we have known you? she said, in rather a low voice. "Ah, well, perhaps there may come a chance " said he; and then he stopped short; for here was old George Bethune, with half a dozen volumes under his arm, and himself all eagerness and garrulity about his new undertaking. At the little dinner that evening in the restaurant, there was quite an unusual ani mation, and that not solely because this was the 9th of November, and they were pro posing to go out later on and look at the illuminations in the principal thorough fares. Vincent thought he had never seen Maisrie Bethun- appear so lighthcarted and happy; and she was particularly kind to him; when she regarded him, there still seemed to be a mild gratitude shining in the clear and eloquent deeps of her eyes. Grati tude for what! be asked himself, with a touch of scorn. It was but an ordinary act ot acquaintanceship; why should this beauti ful, sensitive, proud-spirited creature, have to debase herself to thank him for such a trifle? He felt ashamed of himself. It was earning cratitude by false pretences. The very kindness shining there in her eyes was a sort of reproach: What had he done to deserve it? Ah, if she only knew what he was ready to do when occasion offered! And never before had he seen Maisrie so bravely confident about any of her grand father's literary projects. "You see, Vincent," she said, as if he needed any convincing, when she was satis tied! "in the end it will make a far more interesting book than the Scotch-American one; and in the meantime there will be the series of articles appearing from week to week, to attract attention to the subject. And then, although grandfather says I tolrft Inw anil nipifinfiiv viow rF 1ifa..tn.a all the same I am glad he is to be well paid for the articles; and there are to be as many as he likes; and when they are com pleted, then comes the pnblication of the book, which should be as interesting to Mr. Carmichael, or Lord Musselburgh, or any one, as the Scotch-American volume And grandfather is going to begin at once; and I am asking him whether I cannot be of any use to him, in the humblest way. A glossary, grandfather; you must have a glossary of the Scotch words; couldn't I compile that for you?" "I have been wondering," the old man said, absently, and without answering her question, "since I came into this room, whether it would be possible to classify them into ballads of action and ballads of the supernatural. I imagine the former belong more to the south country, and that most of the latter had their origin in the north. And yet even in the Battle of Otter burn the Douglas says: Bat I have dreamed a dreary dream, Ayont the Isle o'Skj e 1 saw a deid man win a fight. And I think that man was I. Well, that may have been an interpola tion; at all events, it is a Highland tonch; the strong, brik, -matter-of-fact Border ballad has seldom anything of that kind in it. The bold Bnccleuch and Kinmont Willie were too mnch in the saddle to have time for wraiths. You remember, Maisrie, when they brought word to 'the bauld keeper that Kinmont Willie was a captive in Carlisle Castle? He has ta'en the table wi his hand. He garred the red wine spring on hie Now a curse upon my head,' be cried, 'Bat avenged on Lord Scroop I'll bel O is my basnet a widow's rnrcb. Or my lance a wand of the willow tree, Or my arm a lady's lily band. That an English lord should lichtly me? That is more like the ballad of the South: sharp and vivid, full of action and spirit, and the audacious delight of life; when you want mystery and imagination and super naturaf terrors you must turn to the brood ing and darkened regions of the North. The Demon Lover is clearly of Northern origin; its hell is the Scandinavian hell; not the fiery furnace of the Eastern mind, dui a uesoiauou oi coio. ana wet. 'O what'n a mountain's yon,' she said, Sae dreary wl' frost and snowf O yon is the mountain o' hell,' he cried, 'Where yon and I mann got' " "The Demon Lover?" said Maisrie, inquiringly; and Vincent could not but no tice bow skilfully and sedulously she fanned the old man's interest in this new scheme by herself pretending to be deeply interested. "Don't you know Maisrie?" said he, "it is the story of two lovers who were parted; and be returns after seven yean to claim the fulfilment of her vows; and finds that in his absence she has taken someone else for her husband. It is a dangerous position if he wishes her to go away with him; for a woman never forgets her first lover; what is more, she attributes all the natural and inevitable disillusionment of marriage to her husband, whilst the romance attaching to her first love remains undimmed. There fore, I say let Auld Bobin Gray beware! the wife is not always so loyal to the disil lusiosizer u was the Jeannie of the modern song. Well, in this case, she who has been a false sweetheart, proves a false wife If I was to leave myjiusland dear, And my two babies also, O where is it yon would take me to. If I with thee should gof And the lover becomes the avenger; together they sail away on a strange ship, until they descry the mountains ot hell; and the lover turned demon warns her of her doom. And aye when she turned her round about, Aye taller bo seemed for to be, Until that the tops o the gallant ship . rJae taller were than he. He struck the topmast wl' his hand, The foremast wi' bis knee: And he brak that gallant ship In twain, Aud sank her In the sea. "Will there be illustrations, sir?" asked Vincent (in humble imitation of Maisrie). "And an edition de luxe? For that, I imagine, is where my co-operation might come in. Maisrie seems so anxious to help; aud I should like to take my part top.-"' "It is a far cry to the completion of such an undertaking'as that," said the old man, rather wistfully. But Maisrie wouldfsot have him J.apse into any despondent mood. "You must not look so far ahead, grand father," she said, cheerfully. "You must think of your own pride and satisfaction in beginning it; and I know yon will be de lighted; for who can do it is well as you? And if lam so very mercenary, well, I can't heln it; only I shall be all the better pleased to remember that you are being well paid for your work. Supposing the kitchen is my department? Oh, very well' Some body must look to that It will be a labor of love for you, grandfather, all the way through; and then, when the book is nearing completion, just think of the pridejouwill have in choosing someone, some distin guished person, for the dedication. It will be far more your own work than merely giv ing specimens of the Scottish-American poets; indeed it will be all your own; for the uaiiaus are oniy to be textjtjas you say. And I think we should go "Bbme now, and you will look over some of the books. I don't care about the illuminations not I. What is the Lord Mayor's Day to Vincent or me when vou might be telling us about Katharine Janfarie and May Collean? ".No, no, Maisrie," said he, as he rose from the table. "Give me a little time for preparation. And we promised to show you the streets lit up. And mind you wrap yourself well, Maisrie, for the evenings are getting cold now." But little did Vincent Harris, as he helped her on with her cloak and made ready to go out into the dusky and glaring world of London, foresee what was going to befall him that night. He knew that Maisrie was well-intentioned and kind to ward him; and that especially at this mo ment she was disposed to be grateful to him in a measure that was out of all reason. Bnt she was still and always the strangely unapproachable maiden; a kind of respect for her curions isolation chilled, or at least rebuked, the very affection he felt for her; he was conscious that to-morrow, the next day, the day after, he might be separated from her by something more palpable and impassable than the wide, sad sea of his waking dreams. He was glad to find on this evening that Maisrie was so light hearted, and cav, and hopeful; bnt somehow he did not share this unwonted confidence of hers. She seemed happy in looking toward the fnture; he, in looking thither also, was touched with a dull sense of fore boding; he did not see himself and her as one. And yet this was what happened. When they issued forth into Begent street, there was as yet no very dense crowd, though here and there the front of a great building flamed in yellow fire; but nevertheless Maisrie said: "Mind we don't get separated, grand father. Let me go between yon two; and I will take your arm on the one side and Vin cent's on the other; and if we haveoccasion ally to go sideways, we can always keep to gether." N "Ob, I shan't let you bn dragged away, Maisrie," he younger man said with a bit of a langh. "And if you don't mind, I think this will be a better way of holding on to you " and therewith he made bold to pass his hand underneath the hanging sleeve of her cloak, and there he look hold of her arm irom the inside rather timidly, perhaps, but then his grasp could be tightened, if needs were. "Yes," said she, placidly, and she made a little movement as though sbe would draw both her companions closer to her. "This is very comfortable. Which way, grand father?" And so the little group of friends, knit to gether by many intimate interests and much association, adventured out into the great world of London that was all astir now with a vague and half-subdued excitement. There was no need for them to talk; they had but to look at the blazing stars and feathers and initial letters, and to make their way through the murmuring throng. There was no jostling; the crowd was eu tirely good-natured; and if these three could not always go abreast, then they went diagonally for a second or so, and were not separated. Of course, Vincent bad to bold Maisrie a little more firmly now; his arm was parallel with hers, and his hand had hold of her wrist; and there was an intox icating sense of warmth as well as of close companionship in this mutual' clinging. And so they slowly and idly passed away down Begent street, well content with their own silence and the brilliant sights around them. Then a little incident occurred. A vehicle was coming along one of the smaller tnorougniares tney baa to cross; there was a brief bit of a scrimmage; and Maisrie, the better to keep hold of her companion, slipped her hand from the muff that was slung round her neck, and seized his hand, that was ready enough, be sure, to respond. They got over without further trouble; they mixed once more in the vast, slow-moving assemblage only he retained the hand she had given him, and that with no uncertain grip. It was a wonderful, mysterious, secret thing to be happening in the midst of all this great, careless, dusky crowd. Her hand, that was ungloved, was soft and warm after coming ont of its cosy resting place; and it was not likely to get cold, when it was held so tight, under the concealment of the hang ing sleeve. And then well, probably, the girl did not know what she was doing; she was affected by all this excitement around her; it was "Look, Grandfather; look!" from time to time; most likely she thought no more of her band being held than if she were crossing a meadow in the spring time with some care less girl companion but however that may be, what must she do but open her fingers, so that his should interclasp with hers! Nay, she opened them again, and shut them again, the better to adjust that gentle clasp; and every touch thrilled through him, so that he walked, as one in a dream. He dared hardly breathe, be durst not speak, lest some stray word, of bis might startle her into consciousness, and shatter this miracle. Yet she did not Seem to be aware: It wan "Which" way, grand father?" or "Take care, grandfather!" and her eyes were turned to the brilliant and parti-colored devices in front of the Pall Mall clubs, and not at all to the handsome lad who walked so close to her that now and .again he cduld detect some faint trace of the odor of sandalwood that seemed to hover around her neck and her hair. What did he see or hear of the crowd now, or of the garish lights along the houses? He walked in an enchanted land: there were only two people in it: and thev Lurere bound together, in subtle intercom munion, oy tnis magic grasp. There was wonder as well as joy in his mind; the sensation was so new and strange. Did he remember that "palm to palm" was "holy paimer s kiss .no, ne remembered noth ing; he only knew that he held Maisrle's hand interlocked with his, in this secret fashion; and that all the wild phantasma goria around them 'was something unreal and visionary with which neither he nor she had any concern. And even now his cup of bliss' and bewil derment was not yet full, on this marvelous night. When at last they drew away .from the crowded streets and found themselves in quieter thoroughfares on their way home, the old man drew a breath of relief. "This is better, Maisrie," he said. '"It seems as if we had been oat on a roaring sea, and had drifted into stillness and jeace." "And we were not separated once, grand father," said she, cheerfully. "Not once all the time." And then it was Vincent who spoke. "I don't see why we'should ever sep. aratef" said he. "Friends arejew enough in this world." , ' i "Yes, indeed, good friends are iew,"y Maisrie said: and therewithal ere he could tell what was happening she had taken his hand that she had held in hers and raised it, and for one brief moment pressed it against her heart. The little impulsive movement ot gratitude perhaps; perhaps of affection; perhaps of both combined could not have been perceived by any passer-by; and yet the young man seemed to be struck by a sudden shock of fear; he could not speak; his own heart was beating so that speech was impossible. For it ap peared to him in that swift second as if the scales had fallen from his eyes. To him she was no longer an elusive phantom a mirage a vision pensive and mysterious, and remote; now he saw her a beautiful young creature of flesh and. blood, whose hands and heart were warm, who could cling for help and companionship and sym pathy, who was not afraid to speak and act, when love or gratitude prompted her. No longer the strangely isolated maid en; the unapproachable had all at once come near; so near that the scent of sandal wood touched him from time to time; so near that her solt fingers were interdasped with his, pulsating there, nestling there, not relaxing their hold, nor inclined to do that. This was no piece of statuary, to be worshiped from afar; this was Maisrie Bethune, whose arm lay close and caressing against his, under the friendly shelter of that hanging sleeve, whose step went with his step as they walked together, whose breathing he could almost overhear, in the silence of this gracious night. And what had she not confessed, in that artless way? And then amid all his bewilderment and breathless exultation a .horrid fancy shot through his brain. Perhaps that was no confession at all; but a quite simple, unpre meditated, perhaps even nnconscious, act of mere friendliness and sympathy? Did she know that she had done' it? Would she re peat it? Would she give him further assur ance? Perhaps she herself might wish to be certain that he had understood that he had received a message that was to change all his life? Well, he had hold of her hand. Gently and with trembling and eager touch he tried to raise it he wonld have her replace his own hand where that had been for one delirious moment; perhaps to ask if her heart had f till, and forever and always, the same message to send. Alas! she did not yield to the mute invitation. Perhaps she did not comprehend it. For here they were at the corner of tbe little street in which they lived; and she unclasped her fingers, so that his also might be released from their too happy imprisonment; aud she was talk ing to her grandfather when the door of the house was reached. Nor did her eyes say anything as he bade her goodby for the night. Perhaps it was all a mistake, then? some little involuntary act of kindness, and nothing more? To be Continued next Sunday. 2 WEST INDIAK W0MEJT. A Land Where the Fair Sex Carry Immense Zoadi on Their Head. The erect carriage and swift, steady walk of burden-carrying women in the West In dian city of St. Pierre always impress a stranger. Nearly all the transportation of light merchandise, as well as of meats, fruits, vegetables and food stuffs, to and from the interior, is effected upon human heads. At some of the ports the regular r&SKr, - -C- Shifting a Burden. local packets are loaded and unloaded by women and girls, able to carrv any trnnk or box to its destination. At Fort de France the great steamers of the Compagnie Gen erate Transatlantiqne are entirely coaled by women, who carry the coal on their heads, singing as they come and go in processions of hundreds; and the work is done with in credible rapidity. The Creole porteuse, or female carrier, is certainly one of the most remarkable physical types in the world. At a very early age, perhaps at 6 years, she learns to carry small articles upon her head. At 16 or 17 she is a tall, robust girl lithe, vigorous, touch, all tendon aud hard flesh. She carries now a tray or a basket of the Ingest size, and a bnrden of 120 to ISO pounds weight. She can earn abont 30 frans (about 56) a month, by walking 60 miles a day as an itinerant seller. THE LION'S STOMACH Dctei mines Whether He la a Bold Beast or a Coward. The expression "bold as a lion" does not fit tbe case one time in ten. The lion is either bold or cowardly, according to cir cumstances. The state" of his stomach has much to do with it, and if wounded he is like any other wild beast mad for revenge. One night, says a writer in the Philadelphia Press, speaking of the Worumba district, when a party of lis out after stray cattle had camped about ten miles from tbe village and while a big fire was blazing on either side of our camp, a lion came out of a thicket a lew rods away, surveyed the camp, and then came bounding among us with a terrible roar. No one had any time to prepare for him or avoid him. His third bound brought him into camp, and he seized a native by the shoulder, gave him a shake and a twist and walked out of camp with the man hung over his back, as cool as if we bad been so many monkeys. We had one of the muskets with us, but did not dare fire for fear of killing our com panion. Every man lushed fora fire brand, however, and then pursued the lion, and I myself struck the beast twice with a blazing stick. He uttered a growl and increased his pace, while his victim called out: "It's no usel I dreamed of this three times and it had to come to pass!" The beast trotted oft into tbe thicket with its burden, and the native did not even cry out when he realized that we could render no help and that he must die an awfnl death. That lion was bold enough and he would have fougbta whole village, but the very next one might have shown himself a coward. THE P0ETBY OF MOTION Han Taken on a Very IJtzzr Form, Accord Ink to a Boston, Paper. Quite a new method of waltzing has sprung up recently. Tbe Boston Courier says it is more curiousthan graceful, consisting of a spring into tbe air, a quickly executed double shuffle, and another spring, the pro cess being repeated until exhaustion en sues. It is very fine exercise for these warm evenings in crowded rooms, and is found exceedingly conducive to brilliant complex ions. Much skill is necessary to avoid rapid descent upon partners' toes, an acci dent not provocative of good humor, and frequently trying to the best scanners. Am y'l ml 7 k 77--' " WHOFOUNDAMERICA? An Interesting Study Apropos of the Coming World's Fair. ORIGIN OP THE NAME, AMERICA. Facta Showing That Amerigo Tespucei Didn't Know of His Honor. TRACES OF THE PBEHISTORIO KACE8 iwsrrrsx job im DisrircH. PTER an inter val of nearly 400 years, the real truths relating to the discov ery, exploration and colonization of America are just being learn ed. The his torical student is only begin ning to wipe ont the mists pic turesque enough to give place to incontestable facts. Becent investigation has resulted in somestrangerev elations which are not gener ally known. Even the ori gin of the name America aside from its being derived from that of Amerigo Vespucci, is unknown to most people. It certainly has its origin or root from tbe Christian appellation of the illus trious explorer named, but, if we may be lieve the deductions of the most learned historians of the present day, it is a great in justice to cast upon him the blame of de frauding Columbus of his right to name the new continent. It may be said of Vespucci, ha was never treated with tbe ignominy that seemed to haunt the career of the Genoan navigator, notwithstanding the former's assertion that "fortune has been averse to me as she has to many others." Yet, if during life Vespucci was the happier of the Amerigo Tespucei. two, since his death his reputation has been clouded over because his name was given to that country which it was believed the great Columbus was the first to reach and draw attention to. QUESTIONED THE VOTAOE. At one time this feeling against Vespucci became so malignant that it came to be the popular opinion that his voyage in 1497 had never taken plsce, and that he did not really reach the mainland of South Amer ica until 1499, or one year after Columbus had done so. Varnhagen's inquiries have changed this opinion so that it is now con sidered as quite certain that Vespucci actually reached the mainland of the South ern Continent in the same year that Cabot reached tbe Northern. Varnhagen's researches among tbe still existing letters and documents of Amerigo Vespncci proved that the voyage was made in 1497-'S3, and that he first reached Hon duras and then coasted all along the shores of Yucatan, Gulf of Mexico and Florida, demonstrating beyoud a doubt that Cuba was an island, in spite of the protestations of Columbus that it was part of the main land. Vespucci himself believed that he had discovered a promontory of Asia and named it "The Land of the Holy Cross." COLUMBUS' COUNIKTMEK. There are other reasons why history should be lenient with Vespucci. The countrymen of Colnmbus are to blame for any wrong he may have suffered. Through their lack of appreciation and utter disre gard of the value of his achievements, his opportunity was lost, and the bonor of nam ing tbe new land given to another who we have good reason to believe, never knew of the bonor that had been thrnst upon him. The theory offered in explanation oi this mistake and which is now accepted as being the most plausible, is as follows: In the year 1507, a German geographer by the name of Waldsee-Muller, becoming greatly interested in the late discoveries, printed a letter of Vespucci's in the little town of St. Die in Lorraine, and, firmly believing that "The Land of the Holy Cross," described by the explorer was a new world, he fol lowed the publication of the letter with a ChrUtopher Columbus. From the Most Authentic Portrait, work of his own called "Cosmographite In troduction' in which he suggests that the name of America would match well with Europe and Asia, which were also women's names. WHENCE CAME THE NAME. This interesting little book is yet in ex istence, a copy of it being in the Harvard College library and a few others being scat tered among American collections. Qnar itcb, the famous English bookseller, also had one catalogued during his recent exhibition in New York. Prom this we have every reason to believe that to the random sug gestion of an obscure German author, we owe the name ot our country. The European people seem to have taken kindly to the idea, for the name came gradu ally into general use thereafter, although the same Waldsee-Muller does not use the name on a chart that he published six years sub sequently, but mentions Columbus as the discoverer of a Southern continent which he calls "Terra Incognita." There is still pre served in England, a map drawn by Leon arda da Vinci abont 1513-14, which is proba bly the earliest manuscript map known containing the name of "America;" also, a globe made in the year 1620 by Johann Schoner, which bears the name of Brazil "America slve (or) Braxilia." This relio is preserved in Nuremberg. The earliest en graved map bearing the name was made in the same year. XS EABLIEB DISCOTEBT. Za connection with tko so-called A Js Y t ffi v j J; yjj covery of this Continent, there are many evidences to give room for reasonable doubt as to the correctness of tbe word "dis coverers" as applied to the Spaniards, Portuguese and English who made voyages to this country in tbe fifteenth and six teenth centuries. Waiving the fact of dis covering the Western Hemisphere to the civilized world, it is merely a figure of The Wonderful Maya Alphabet. speech, as we have no definite proofs that it was not known to the ancients. The many peculiar remains found in this country, and attributed to the Vikings, imply that those people visited this country as early, if not earlier than the tenth century, which surmise if correct would make the application of the word "dis coverers" incorrect. "Ke-discoverers" in that case would be more proper. INVASION PEOM THE EAST. Then, we know that up to the time ot the voyages of Marco Polo, Sir James Mande ville and others in the thirteenth and four teenth centuries nothing was known of the nations of Eastern Asia, who were found by these travelers to be well up in the arts and manufactures, and who may possibly for all we know to the contrary have visited and occupied this country long, long ago by the western or northwestern ronte; besides, the physical conformations of Northwestern America are such as to great ly favor the theory of the Asiatic origin of the Indians, that is, if our aborigines are of any foreign extraction. Behring's Strait, dividing the continents, is very narrow and is frozen over every year, probably as late as April, while dur ing the balance of the season there is constant canoe intercourse. An other interesting fact is that, while the land on the Asiatic side is a barren, rocky waste, that on the Ameri can is much more fertile; abounding in trees and plants of all kinds flourishing in a mild genial climate extending with, nearly the same temperature to Oregon. A BACIAL BESEMBLANCE. Then the general resemblance of the in habitants on both sides of the Strait ap parently indicates a common origin, and the similarity of geology and botany goes to show that the separation of these two great continents was a comparatively recent cataclysmic event. Lieutenant Schwatka, in a recently published work on the exploration of the mighty river Yukon, Alaska, says of the A-yans, an Alaskan tribe: "There is a most decided Hebrew type of countenance among them; more pronounced than any I have ever seen." He also discovered traits existing among certain tribes of Indians that reminded him very forcibly of the Chinese Moreover, the people on both continents may have been indigenous to them and the migrating movements occuring afterward, may have caused the curious Asiatic or Mongoloid resemblances fonnd by ethnolo gists. Again, it is not neccessary to eo to tne is ortD western extremity ot the continent to find opportunities for the furtherance ot our belief in an Asiatic origin. FLOATING ACROSS AN OCEAN. In our day it is not a rare thing for junks or vessels of any kind to be driven off from the Japanese coasts by a storm and losing their rudders, it is only a question of time for the Kuro Siwo, "Black stream," Japan current of gulf stream of the Pacific to whirl tbe unfortunate craft to the very shores of America. Could not the nucleus oi our present aboriginal population or prehistoric one have been brought to this country in that manner? The theory of a spontaneous generation advanced by some is worthy of investiga tion, but as yet it can only be used as an in teresting possibility, notwithstanding the fact that it was accepted by such an emi nent authority as Lewis H. Morgan, who was of the opinion that but one race existed in America when discovered by Enropean navigators 'and explorers and that the Bed race. The question of who were the first inhabitants is a most perplexing one, and the probabilities are that we will never know anything more positive than we do now. The mound remains on the banks of the streams of the Ohio and Mississippi slopes; the fortifications on the prairies; tbe cliff houses and pueblos in the Southwest prove that untold generations have lived, moved and sunk into the oblivion of prehistoric ages long before Columbus, Vespucci, the Cabots, Balboa, Ponce de Leon et al., were dreamed of. The civilizations that grouped their homes on our shores in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and flattered themselves as being the first settlers of a new and primeval world, would hare been astounded to learn that untold civilizations had flourished and faded in tbe mysteri ously interesting past of our truly strange land. A -WONDERFUL ALPHABET. Some of the ancient races are believed to have reached such a degree of culture that they had begun to transcribe tbeir deeds I and history Dy means ot hieroglyphics on stone and other materials; to one race an al phabet has actually been ascribed which is evidence of a most advanced stage of civili zation. It has been fonnd that the same three grades of development existed in America as those found in Europe and other coun tries of the world. These grades are called by archaeologists the stone, the bronze and the iron periods. It was also found that some of the tribes of Southern America were in their second or bronze epoch, but as tbe investigators moved northward the people, as they advanced, grew gradually less cultured, until the more temperate regions were reached, where they were found to be still in tbe earlier or stone era: bnt most surprising of all was the fact that surrounding these were found remains of a previous population, containing implements and weapons of the bronze period, proving that notwithstanding the fact that the present inhabitants were as yet in their stone or most primeval condition, the more advanced or bronze period had already ex isted in a previous population. .If we then infer that races considerably advanced in civilization existed at some prehistorie time and have been swept out ot existence by K migration of barbarous tribes such as swept over Europe in tbe beginning of the middle ages, then is not the theory plausible that races have occupied this country previous to that again and back to the earliest stages of man's existence on the globe? W. Q. Kautmanjt. AlwaTS Eight and Never Left. Backet. "What is it the German philosopher says, 'A handsome woman is always right?' " That f ihft vit tin uld it. T annivtui ii dis-meant that pretty girls are neve left BAPTISM OF INFANTS. The Arguments Against It to be Fonnd in the Scriptures ABE NOT ARGUMENTS AT ALL. Significance of Silence and the Language That is Used. REAL 2IEANING OF THE SACRAMENT rWBlTTEX FOB THX DISMTCH. Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven. It is not easy to find a fitting text for a sermon about infant baptism, because there is nothing about infant baptism in the Bible. There is a good deal in the Old Testament about infants in their relation to tbe Church; and there is a good deal in the New Testa ment about baptism. But concerning infant baptism there is neither precept nor example. We are assured, it is true, as in the words which I have taken for a text, that our Lord loved little children; that He took them up in His arms and blessed them; that He "blamed those who would have kept them rom Him," and that He "exhorted all men to follow their innocency," declar ing that in the kingdom of heaven which, whatever else it means, means the church they are following the best ideal closest who are like little children, humble, trustful, obedient aod loving. This is very beauti ful and helpful, but it solves no problems about infant baptism. We are told, it is true, of whole house holds being baptized in Christ's name, and we know that most households have chil dren in them; we read in St. Paul's letters to various churches, letters in which he especially aaoresses oaptizea christians, particular exhortations made to children. The "promise," St. Peter said, "is unto you, ana to your children." But we can ex plain away all these things. SIGNIFICANCE OF SILENCE. Against tbe ministration of baptism to young children stands the argument of silence. And this silence is emphasized by certain words of significant spee'eb, in which two spiritual qualifications one of them repentance, and the other faith; both of them impossible to infantsare set down as a necessary preliminary to the right reception religion of this initiatory sacrament. Bntthis silence of Holy Scripture what does it mean? And these forbidding words what do they mean? Before we make up our minds that the whole Christian Church for sixteen centuries was mistaken about this matter, and that more than nine-tenths of all Christians since the sixteenth century have been mistaken also, we will do well to study this subject with some care. - I begin with this curions silence. It is the truth that there is no more in tbe New Testament about the admission of children to ibe sacrament of baptism, than there is abont the admission of women to the sacra of the Lord's Supper. What does this silence signify? It is evident, whatever may have been the practice in the ministry of the apostles, that up to that era in religious history, little children were admitted to the church of God. Jewish history makes this unquestionably plain. It is evident, also, whatever Christ and the twelve may have said or left unsaid, that since that era in religious history, little children have been continuously and by al most universal consent admitted to the church of God. 'Christian history establishes this beyond a doubt. I do not believe that the idea ever once oc curred to any ot the apostles that the re ceiving of little children into the covenant of God would ever be questioned by any body. Prom time ont of mind, they and their fathers before them, had never heard of any other custom. They no more thought of setting down in so many words that little children were baptized among them than the secretary of a sewing society would think of stating in her" report "that the gingham aprons which the ladies had made were made with thimbles. They were chiefly interested, as all missionaries in pagan lands are interested to-day, in tbe convert ing and baptizing of grown men and women. So they tell us a good deal about that, and they leave the babies ont. WOULD HAVE MADE A STIB. They leave.ihe' babies out of the record, but if 'they had left tbe babies out of the church, then there would have been any thing but silence. To the Jew it was just as significant and beantifnl a thing as it is to us, that parents and children shonld stand together within tbe covenant of God. If any change bad been made in such a matter, in a custom which concerned every home; if the now dispensation had been narrower than the old; it there had appeared such a singular phenomenon as a church for grown up people only; if there had been written over the church doors, and preached in the church sermons, that condition which is sometimes set down in advertisements of apartment houses, that no children were wanted; if the new church had gone so sharply in the face of the old; do you think that we would have had only this perfectly severe silence? The early Christians were all Jews; they would certainly have protested; their protest would have required an answer, and that answer would have found a place in the pages of the New Testament. I ask no stronger assurance that the little Christian children were just as lovingly received into the Christian church as the little Jewish children were into the Jewish church, than this remarkable silence: The silence means that the old passed into the new, unquestioned. So much for tbe silence. But just here speech breaks in upon the silence. And the speech takes shape in a statement of certain qualifications for baptism. Sepent and be baptized. BelieCe, first, and then be bap tized. And the little children cannot meet either ot these'tests. And so perhaps the church is, after all, only a grown-up peo ples' club. Let us see. THE OTHEB OBJECTION. Bepent and believe before baptism why? Why, because baptism is an initiation into that great religious society, the church. Thi. society is by its very nature, made up of people who are enlisted against sin. This, description may not, as a matter of fact accurately describe every member of this societv, but it does describe all the honest members; it leaves out only the traitors. And in order that it may, so far as is hu manly possible.describe every member with out exception, provision is made that a test shall be proposed in the initiatory sac rament. Nobody can join this Anti-Sin Society unless he will declare himself against sin. The theologic name for such a declaration is repentance. Again, this society is made up of those who treasure certain great spiritual truths. These truths are set down in brief in the Christian creed. Tne Church is thus a truth defense society. It exists to bear its testimonv to certain truths about God, and His dealings with men which have been handed down in sacred books, and by a chosen order of religious teach ers from the days when men saw with their eyes and heard with their ears tbe plain manifestation, the adequate revelation, of the will of God. This is the church's open secret. To admit one into this great society of witnesses who could not do his part in bearing witness, and in thus furthering this essential purpose ot the church would be to admit a very question able member. And so again, a test is pro vided in the service of initiation. Whoever will join this society must declare himself upon the aide of Christian truth. The theological name for such a declaration is faith. THE CHILD'S CASE. This, then, is what repentance and faith mean, as connected with baptism. They are set as tests beside the gate to keep out of the church those who are not worthy, or are not ready to eea la. Iks lather corns re penting and believing. The mother comes repenting and believing, bat here is the little child. The society has assured itself, as best it can, that these parents will be worthy members, but the two defensive tests do not tonch the child. Bemember. that what the tests are for is simply for defense. They have no other purpose than to keep unworthy or disloyal people out. How can the church defend herself against the possible unworthiness or disloyalty of this little child? The cate chism answers the question. Why, then, are infants baptized when, by reason of their tender age, they cannot repent, can not believe? Because they promise there by both their parents, which promise, when they come to aee, themselves are bound to perform. What is baptism? We take St. Paul' definition. Baptism is the washing of re generation. But regeneration what ia that? To this question there are three answers. Eegeneration means a change of condition. That is one answer. A child is brought to be baptized. This child, before his head is wet with the holy water, is nothing, so some say, but a little human animal. He is the child of God only as a dog is, or a cat, be cause God made him. -Nay, he is not the child of God at all, but rather of the devil. His heart is full of tbe germs of sin, waiting to grow up into its harvest of poison. God Iooks down into this little heart, and sees this sin there, and is angry. Unless some thing is done, this child is" lost. But some thing is done. The child is brought to baptism. The water touches him, sacred words are pronounced over him, the sign of the cross is made upon his forehead, and be hold, a miracle! The old conditions are passed away, the child has come into a new condition. He is God's child; he is an heir of heaven. This marvelous change baptism has wrought. There is no need to say much in criticism of this definition of regeneration. Whether it is true or false, it does not interfere with infant baptism. It is perhaps sufficient to remark that if this is what baptism is, then baptism is an incantation, an exorcism, piece of magic, a spell. A SYMBOL OF CHANGE. So we come to the second answer. Eegen eration means a change of character. Year by year the child grows, unbaptized, into the days of discretion. He may be God's child or he may be the devil's child, we do not know yet. All depends upon the child. At last he is converted. By faith, by re pentance, by a reaching out toward God, by a personal appropriation of tbe promises of God, the soul is changed. Anew life begins. The man is changed in character. Here is the time for baptism. As' a symbol of this change let us have a performance of the ceremony of baptism. Something a good deal like this happens whenever a grown person is baptized. You may pall it regeneration, if you will, but that is not the name for it It was not of this that St. Paul was thinking when be spoke of the washing of regeneration. It was not this of which our Lord spoke when he declared to Nicodemus the need of being regenerated by water and tbe Holy Ghost The connection of this change of character with baptism is a purely artificial one. The change takes place all the same whether tha man be baptized or unbaptized. Baptism, if this idea about it be correct, is. surely a curious piece of unnecessary ritnal. But this is not regeneration this is conversion, a very different thing indeed. And so we come to the third answer. He generation is not a change of condition caused by a baptismal spell. Begenera tion is not a change of character, certified by a baptismal symbol. What is it, than? It is that by which whoever is babtiiedis made a member of Christ, the child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. Not by a change of condition, not by a change of character, bnt by a change of cir cumstance. AN INITIATOBT SEBVTCE. Baptism is an initiation into the ciiurcn of Christy It makes us members of Christ Baptism is an adoption into the family of God. It makes us in a new sen se the children of God. Baptism is a bringingof the soul into contact with new spiritual influence. It makes us, in a special sense, inheritors of the kingdom of heaven. Baptism makes a change of circumstances. Let us show yon what this change of air cumstances means. A child is adopted into a. family. Thi child is not changed in character, but he is changed in circumstances. His surround ings are different There may be a change of character, by and by. There will be if ha continues in those surroundings, and is re ceptive to their influences. But that will take place slowly, year by year. The only immediate effect of adoption is a change of circumstance. A young man is received into a college. The young man is changed in a single hour, by the passing of an ex amination, from an applicant for admission, into a freshman. He does not know any more at the end of that hour than he did at the beginning. There has been no change ia his intellectual character. The change is in his intellectual circumstances. ST. PAUL'S ILLUSTBATION. A company of Hebrews, under cover of s) great storm, the wind making them a way through the water, cross over from Africa to Asia. St Paul says this is a good illustra tion of what baptism is. What changes did that flight across tbe water mike? No change in character at all. Upon the other bank arrived, the Hebrews, jnst the same Hebrews, speaking the same language, look ing ont of the same eyes, possessing the same infirmities of temper but changed ia circumstances. Behind them Egypt, with its slavewhips and its idols; be'ore them the free wilderness, Sinai rising up in the midst of it Those Hebrews were saved when the Bed Sea closed in behind them. Saved yes, potentially; salvation made possible for them; freedom, manhood, possible now to them. But no salvation insured to them, no righteousness given to them without being first earned and paid by hard en deavors after it In the end the great com pany of those who were thus saved were lost lost because they did not make good use of tbeir changed circumstances, did not translate circumstance into character. These illustrations are parables of bap tism. They define regeneration. Beforma tion is such a change not of condition, not of character, but of circumstance that it may be very properly said that with this change a new life actually begins. The man is born again. That which happens to a child taken into a good home, or to a young man admitted to a good college; that which happened to that company of He brews getting out of the land cf bondage into a new land of liberty; just that sort of thing happens to every soul in the moment of baptism. THE BEGINNING OF SALVATION. If a change of character follows the change of circumstances, if the soul grows as it now has the opportunity to grow, in grace and is the knowledge and love of God, the soul is saved. Baptism is the beginning of this possible salvation. And so we get a reason able answer to the question What is bap tism? Baptism is the appointed way of en trance into that circle of blessed influence which we call the church. Now, what about the children? Can we let them in? Can we make them sharers of the blessing? Can we bring tbe helpful influence to bear on them? Yes. Why. not? The silence of Scripture does not forbid it; tha speech of Scripture does not oppose it; tha sacrament itself emphatically Invites it Let us bring the little children whom Christ loves into the church where Christ dwells, let their possession of the privilege of son ship in God be certified, we on our part promising that they shall be taught so soon as they shall be able to learn that they are members of Christ and children of God and heirs of the kingdom of heaven; In promisiogaiso to train them up in tbe nurture and admonition of the Lord, to bring them into touch with the spiritual favors of the society to which they now be long, to cause that they hear sermons, to have them taught the great truths of faith and duty, and in due time to bring them to the next great sacrament of grace and help. Who shall forbid water that these may be baptized these little children who need the blessings of the Holy Spirit equally with ni? Who shall deny, them entrance amid the upUttinglinfluences of the Choral of God? GsoaaxHosGM. ,
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