.- - - B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CONSTITUTION THE UNION ASD THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PEXNA., APRIL 1. 1S74. NO. 13. " e " " ' 1 ---I ' ' - - - - - - - - ... . , . . . - . . . . . 1 I'oetry. By avad By. Whit will it mutter ay aid by Whether my path btl.w was brlj ht. Wittier It wound through dark or light, ruder m fray tit g o'dea uay, Wka I Ijok but oa It, by aad by What will It matter by aad by Whether, uaaslped, I tailed alone, Daublof my foot araloet a stuaa, Miwiag the cliarg of the aagel alg-h, Biildiag me think of the by and by f Wbat will It matter by aad by Whrther with laughtaf Joy I weat Dowe through the yean with a (lad coatent Keeer belteviag, aay, aot Ia Teara would be tweeter by aad byT What will It K utter by aad by Whether with cheek to cheek I're la a Close by the pallid angel. Pule, SMthine- myae:f through eob aad atgb ; "ail will be eleewlM by aad by. What will It matter? Xanght, If I Only am .are the way I've trod, Cioomy or gladdeaed, lead, to God, Questioning not of the bow, the why. If I but reach Him, by aad by. What will I care for the uu.bared ilgh. If, ia my fear of .Hp and fall, Cloaely I've clang to Christ through all Miudless how rough the path might lie, Since be will smooth It by aad byf Ah ! It will matter by aad by JCothtag bat this : That Joy or Feia Lifted me skyward, helped to fa ft. Whether through rack, or smile, or sign, Heueea home all in all, by aad by 1 31 !" 11 im.y. Sir Samuel Baker In tent rati Africa. When Sir Samuel Baker's expedition reached Gondokoro, on the White Nile, he opened out to the chiefs the objects that had brought him to their country, viz.. the suppression of the slave trade, and the establishment of commercial relations between their people and the rest of the world. To one chief lie "preached almost a sermon" upon the evils of the slave trade, and the chief appeared to be profoundly affected by the discourse; liis emotion, however, was but transient, for at the end of the sermon he ottered to sell his son for a spade, which, in tiie dearth of iron in that country, is an article of considera ble value. This story Sir Samuel Baker gives an instance of the people's obtuse uess; the best proof of friend ship is n their estimation, that you should help them to kidnap the women and children of some other tribe. At Masindi r?ir Samuel found alnrat eight thousand men, anion? whom could not le seen a single woman. This was regarded as a bad sign, for when ever you saw plenty of women among the natives you were pretty sure of peace; the absence of women was a sure sign of liostilitv. Accordingly the king, a very bad fellow, behaved most treacherously, killing some men who ha 1 been sent back to Fattiko, and se idinjr into the "amp jars of a sort of native cider, which was poisoned. The result was that forty of the troops were lying on the ground at one time, suffer ing acutely. The next morning the expeditionary force was attacked by seven or eight thousand negroes. Baker's men four hundred Egyptian troops being well drilled, protected the camp effectually, and the fifty Snider rides with which they were armed saved the expedition. With their rockets also they set tire to and destroyed the whole town. Uufortu nately'the king escaped. This young man "had distinguished himself by murdering his family, under these cir cumstances: When a king dies, his lody is placed in a sort of huge grid iron, and then is toasted by a tire kin dled beneath. The ImhIv then lies in state tin buried, and is the signal for civil discord. The sons light until one of them is victorious, and he sticks his spear into the body of his parent as a svmbol of victor'. Then the funeral rites take place, corresponding with those recorded of the ancient Scythians. A large pit is dug in which some of the deceased king's wives are put, and the corpse is lowered down till it rests on its knees. Then there is a raid on some neighboring villages, and the peo ple' captured are brought to the brink of the pit, where their arms and legs are broken.aud in this mutilated condi tion they are thrown down to the corpse beneath. Then the earth is piled upon them, the people stamp it down upon this mass of writhing humanity, and the horrid rites are complete, feuch had been the ceremony observed at Masiudi, and the son who had suc ceeded to the throne then invited his relations to dinner and caused them all to be massacred. On their arrival in the territory of Rionga IJaker Pasha "exchanged blood"' with the chief a process which consists in drawing blood from the arm of each of the contracting parties, who takes a drop of his friend's blood on his tongue. This ceremony not onlv gives you an ally, but renders him faithful unto death; you belong thenceforth to his family. The Last Words ef the Dying;. The last words of the dying are cagcrlv sought alter, and enshrined in memory's bosom, by loved ones. The hero, standing ujKn the field of battle, amid the booming of caunou and the rattle of musketry, is stricken down, and, tlving, he utters some sentiment, which tells the living he fought bravely, and died loving his country. His words, thus uttered, are chanted in his praise, pass immediately into his tory, aud are preserved to be handed down from generation to generation. The mother, liending over the couch of her dviug child, eagerly listens for its last words. As the heart's pulsa tions grow feeble, the respirations lecome more lalorious, she silently listens. Now the pale lips are parted, and she draws nearer, until her ear comes in contact with the cold breath, when she catches the last faint murmur of the dying one. Oh, how she treas ures in her pure heart that last "Good bye," that last token of going home to heaven! The husband, through weary days and nights, has been watshing at the bedside of his darling wife, until, now, the dread moment approaches when 6he shall be wafted Iteyond the river of death. Under no pretence will he now leave her, and why f Ah! he is waiting, and listening, for "the last whisper. As she speaks her words echo and re-echo through the chamber of his soul, and remain there throughout the mystic future. As a young lady reads over the list of the slain in battle, and her weeping eves rest upon the name of her lover, almost her first though t is, "Did he leave me a dying message f . The "sweet sister of a shipwrecked brother impatiently awaits the arrival of 6ome one rescued from the wreck, to learn if her brother, as he was swept beneath the dark waves, sent her a dy ing word. Yes, dving words are those most sought after and cherished by the hu man heart. Amid all the cares and dLsapno in tents tJtat may surround us in hie, we never can forget the last faint whisperings of the dying. One of the most curious of natural S reductions is said to be woman who i not carious. THE IROX JIOXK. Drip, drip, drip, the rain is plashing into the tiny lakes and rivers in the sodden gardenbeds. Through the open window comes the faint, sweet smell of the damp earth that moist, spring-like odor, which nothing else resembles. A soft twittering comes from under the leaves, where the happy little feathered lovers who yesterday were flying about in the sunshine, building their wee house have taken shelter. Under my window a great black snail is leisurely promenading. In the kitchen Jean is whistling (all out of tone) some popular air. Lisette has been Bcolding him. Good stupid Jean stares at her, says nothing and goes on whistling. These good people love one another; bnt Lisette is quick, eager, self-reliant Jean is slow and plodding. "He has no thought, " she says sharply, in her quick, brisk utterance. Jean smiles doubtfully, and goes off to his work. I speak of his goodness, his kind heart, and Lisettd's black eyes filled with tears. Yesterday, I found two slender sprays of the fragrant lily of the valley the wood will be full of them soon. They sway about in the soft air, their tiny waxen cups filled to the very brim with sweetness. My grandmother dreamed of them the day she died, waking sud denly, with an exclamation of delight. "What is it?" I asked. "Ah! mon enfant," she answered, with a sigh, "I was gathering lilies at the old chateau." The last disappointment in life of sorrow ! Do her hands gather their sweet blossoms in the gardens to which she has now gone? I hope so, in deed. 1 am not so yonng an I was, and this quiet life suits me. When the heart is content, it needs little to give ns plea sure. It is happiness to bresthe the sweet air, and listen to the soft patter of the rain. IIow steadily the drops full on the gravel, and with what petu lant laughter they splash out upon the stones. What a day to be lazy in 1 Jean can not possibly ask me to-day. If Lisette will but let me alone she looks with an evil eye on those long quiet hours of dreaming. Ah, me 1 my fate is coming ; I know it in the firm decided sound of the advancing foot steps. "Will Mademoiselle please enter the salon ?" Once there, I listen patiently to her exclamations of horror over the dust, and the filmy webs with which genera tions of spiders have bestowed the old pictures. At last, I am brought to con less that Jean is idle to-dav, and 1 con sent to his dusting the dirty faces of my ancestors, if it so pleases him. It does not please him bnt it pleases Lisette, and I am released. L'sette is happy. A ladder is brought brashes, clothes. I retreat in dismay, carrying with me the remembrance of a face which, it seemed to my fancy, looked reproachfully down upon me. A man in the prime of life, with bold, haughty features, an eagle eye, and a firm, proud mouth. He is in full armor, over which hangs a monk's robe, and in his mailed hand he holds a crucifix, grasping it like a sword. The "Iron Monk" he is called. The face haunts me ; fiery pas sionate, it accords ill with the humility of the monk's habit. "What a history that man has 1" I say to myself. My eye falls upon the little leather box, my grandmother's words recur to me ; "In it yon will find the life secrets of many of your race." Why not that of the Iron Monk I open it eagerly. Under many others, I find a paper in my grand mother's writing ; the ink is faded, but I read the title, and joyfully draw forth my prize. The rain is still falling gently. I settle myself back in my chair and begin TOT LEGEXD OF TOT EBON MONK. There are many legends concerning the Iron Monk in which truth and error are so mingled that it is almost impos sible to separate the real from the false; but this I have tried to do, thinking that some one besides myself may wonder over the strange story of this unfortunate man, so deeply sinned against. Once I do not know the year there were twin brothers born at the chateau. Their father, proud and fiery, was slain in some fierce quarrel within a month after their birth. His gentle wife soon followed her lord, leaving her children to t he guardianship of a distant relative, then in Paris. Ten years passed. He brought his motherless daughter to the chateau ; after that he seldom left it. Crafty, subtile, he soon saw that with the bold Victor his influence was little. The young lord knew his power, and was jealous of interference. His proud lips would curl with a contempt nous smile while listening to the commands of his cousin, not one of which he ever obeyed. From the first they hated and mistrusted each other. Meanwhile, over the gentle Louis the guardian's power increased day by day. With passionate sorrow, Victor saw his brother drawn farther and farther away from him. Weafc, easily flattered, Louis soon yielded himself heart and soul to his wily kinsman. And Victor too proud to "complain, yet suffering intensely lavished his warm love on the littie Antoinette. Four years older than she, he was the protector as well as the playmate ; brother changed to lover and life smiled once more on the yenng Victor. The cross was raised, and the earth shook with the tread of armed men ; bugles were ringing, pennons flying, and from every hill and valley came the shout, "For the cross ! For the cross !" With the blood of his race leapiDg hotly in bis veins, Victor prepared to join his countrymen. He was of sge, none sought to stsy him, and it was in the soft eyes of Antoinette alone that he saw grief at parting. Proudly, coldly, he bade adien to the home of his fath ers. With a firm step he crossed the court His brother started forward as if to throw himself into his arms, but a hand detained him ; a few whispered words and he stood motionless. Vic tor's hand was on his horse's bridle, his troop wss waiting, when a light step sounded behind him, and Antoinette flung herself sobbing on his heart A dark scowl settled on the face of Louis, Tenderly Victor soothed her, as with hands she fastened a rich scarf about him, on which she had em broidered the word, "loujours. "Ah ! Mignon," be said, sadly, "will yon love me always ?" "Always, Victor." Twelve years passed. One day in summer, in the twilight, a tired horse slowly climbed the hill overlooking the chateau. His rider, knight with his visor down, looked esgerly from side to side. Lights were beginning to glim mer among the trees. A workman passed him singing. "Tell me, good friend, who lives yonder," said the knight, pointing to the gray walls beneath him. "Oar good lord and lady," answered the man, gazing curiously at the tired horse aad his armed rider. The knight started. "Who it tout lord ?" he asked, huskily. "Count Louis," said the man, won deringly. "He had a brother r "O, the brother, God rest his soul, was killed in battle ; though some say, added he, mysteriously ; "the devil flew awsy with him. The stranger laughed harshly. Throw ing the man some gold, he set spurs to his horse, and galloped down the hill. That night the monks in the neighbor ing monsstry were roused by a loud knocking at the gate. A strange voice dem nded speech with their Abbot Bolts were drawn, bars unbarred. A tired krone was stabled beside the Abbot's well-fed palfrey and a strange guest at the Abbot's table. Midnight had tolled long since, and still the Abbot and his guest sat talking, in low, earnest tones. "And now, good father, for your story," said the knight, lifting his flagon of wine to his lips. "If it would be your pleasure, my lord," and the Abbot hesitated. "It is my pleasure," was the authori tative answer, and shading his face with his mailed hand, he signed to the Abbot to begin. With a nervous tremor in his voice, the churchman obeyed. "Four years after yon had left ns, my lord, there was a private marriage at the chateau. How it came about, I know not, bnt so it was. Ton were gone, and the Lady Antoinette's memory was short Tidings of you came but seldom. Occasionally some wandering minstrels sung of daring deeds. " 'He will be killed, one day,' said your kinsman. "A twelvemonth afterward messen ger arrived. He bore tidings of your death. Count Louis commanded masses to be said for yonr soul, and took pos session of your lands. "One evening, a lady, thickly veiled, sought speech with me. She placed a packet in my hands. 'By the love you bear Count Victor, send this to him.' Her voice trembled with emotion. " 'Lady,' I said, gravely, 'does your husband sanction this ?" "She shuddered violently." "You will keep my secret ? Yon loved Count Victor you are his kinsman for the love of God pray him to return.' "I sent the packet by the hand of a wandering friar." "It never reached me," said the knight hoarsely. "I guessed as much. Your consin died, died as he had lived," and the Abbot crossed himself. The fearful and appalled Count Louis, as he is called," and he looked deprecatingly at his companion. "Call him so," said the knight with a bitter smile. He is haunted by the fear of your re turn. He has grown old before bis time. Three children have been born to him ; two are dead. Life is a harden, and death is feared. The knight sighed heavily. "Are yon fatigued, my lord," said the Abbot kindly; remove that cum brous armor." "Good father, "interrupted the knight "I made a vow to doff it not until I enter my father's halls. We shall not part company for many a long day, me thinks." The Abbot started. "But, my lord, bethink you " "I have bethought me," and he rose as if to end the conference. "I have bethought me. The man yonder" and be shook his clenched hand toward the chateau, whose walla rose faint and dim in the gray of the morning, "is not kith nor kin of mine, but I can not bring disgrace upon my father's name." Nothing more was beard of Count Victor; but one day the Lady An toinette found upon her table a blood stained scarf, on which she traced the word, "Tonjours." When the leaves began to fall, "a new brother" was admitted to the Order of St Benedict The villagers around the chateau whispered together, as the Iron Monk strode past their doors, his stern face shaded by his cowl. And as ever and anon they caught the glimmer of steel beneath his flowing robe, the more fear ful they crossed themselves devoutly. None questioned him. "I have made a vow," tie said, simply, when any one marveled at this strange attire. Fear ful tales were told of crimes committed in the Holy Land. When they reached his ears he smiled scornfully. One day, pacing slowly np the dusty village street be saw a gay cavalcade issue from the gates of the chateau. Drawing his cowl further over his face, he paused to let it pass. The eyes of Count Louis turned curiously upon him ; he, too, had heard of the Iron Monk. "I pray your blessing, good Father," he said, with a courteous smile. "Benedicite," muttered the monk, hoarsely; and the Count's cheek blanched as those fieroe eyes burned upon his face. Had he looked back, he would have seen a steel-gloved hand clinched threateningly. One day came the tidings that the lord of the chateau was dying. His confessor was absent "I will go," said the Iron Monk. The Abbot started, but said nothing. Drawing his cowl over his face, the monk followed the messenger. Enter ing the room of the dying man, he closed the door. What passed between them, none knew. As he again crossed the threshold, the Lady Antoinette placed herself before him. He threw back his cowl. "Victor!" He passed on ; but she flung herself on her knees, and grasped his robe. "Victor, pardon I" "Woman, pray to God!" was the stern answer. She signed te an attendant, who placed her baby in her arms. "Victor, do not corse my child," she said, pleadingly. His face softened. Taking the infant in his strong arms, be gazed long on the tiny features. The baby opened its blue eyes and smiled. Signing the cross upon its forehead, he pressed bis lips to the sacred symbol, then gave back the infant to its kneeling mother. That night the death-bell tolled for Connt Louis. The Iron Monk was absent from the midnight prayers. In the morning he was found kneeling by the narrow case ment bis face turned toward the cha teau, where, dead alike to praise and blame, with elay-oold lips and fast shut eyes, his brother was lying. Death, the great peace maker, had united the brothers again. Together they had entered the world, together they had left it, and the fair-haired baby in his mother's arms was heir to the broad lands. The celebrated enamel artist who has retired with fortune of half a million dollars, was addicted to coating to some purpose. The French Valleys. A French Protestant, who.on account of his religion, served ten years in the galleys at Dunkirk, and was finally re leased at the instance of Queen Anne of England, wrote an account of his servitude (1700 to 1710), and of galley slavery in general. From this old volume we learned that an ordinary galley was almut one hundred and fifty feet long and forty feet wide. She was provided with masts and sails and fifty rowers' benches, twenty-five on each side, and was armed with five cannons, all of which were placed in the forward part of the galley. The oars were fifty feet long, thirty-seven feet without and thirteen feet within the galley. Between the benches there was a passage-way three feet wide. The handling of oars was very hard work. Each rower stood with one foot on his own Itench and the other on the bench before him, then he reached as far forward as possible, raising his oar and dipping it in the water, then he leaned back, with his foot braced, until he came down on his own bench. If these movements were not made with regularity, the rowers were in danger of hitting their hands on the oars before them. The narrator says that this lalor was sometimes exacted for twenty-four hours, which, however, seems too much for human endurance. At some times, he says, a piece of bread soaked in wine was, at intervals, put into their mouths. If one of the rowers gave out, he was beaten as long ns there were any signs of life iu him, and then, without further ceremony, he was thrown overboard. Their daily fare consisted of bread and beans; their dress, of a shirt, breeches, red stockings and cap, and a blouse, all of the coarsest material. So long as the galley was under way no one was allowed to sleep; if she lay at anchor or in a harbor the rowers crouched down between their benches and slept. In winter, wheu iiie galley was dismantled, their only bed was a board. At this season oj the year, they were variously em ployed, and never allowed to be idle. If any one of note visited the galleys, the convicts were put through a series of maneuvers as humiliating as they were ridiculous. At the first sound of the whistle a whistle was used in commanding them as the trumpet is in commanding dra goons they all laid aside their caps, at the second their blouses, at the third their shirts, when they were ready for the farce to begin. At a given signal they now lie down between their Itenches so that no one could lie seen; then, at given signals, they showed, first, a finger above the benches, then an arm, then the head, and so on, until they stood each in his place, when they were put through a variety of maneu vers, tatter calculated to disgust than to amuse the spectator. The punishment usually inflicted was the bastinado. The unfortunate, after being stripped to the waist, was made to lie flat down,wliile two galley slaves held his hands and two his feet and an other laid on the blows. The latter was also stripped; and behind him stood the captain also with a bastinado in his hand, which he used on the back of the executioner if he showed any disposition to spare the criminal. After the tenth or twelfth blow the culprit was almost -always speechless aud motionless, still the punishment was continued. From twenty to thirty blows was the usual sentence for tri fling offenses. The maximum number was one hundred; this punishment, however, few survived. For excep tional offenses the criminal was sen tenced to have his feet bound to two different vessels, which were then put in motion in opposite direction sand he was torn to pieces. A Comedy of Frrers. A good many years ago, in a Vermont country village, lived two gentlemen who looked very much alike. One was a minister, aud the other a violin player, whose gifts and skill were at that day in much request. This posi tion of "things gave rise to the following "comedy of errors." As the minister was one day leisurely walking the streets, a couple of negroes approached him. One of them remarked to the other : "Dat's him now I know him, for I'se seen him often." "Well, speak to him 'den," says the other. "No, Pete, vou speak to him." Noticing tliat they wished to hold some intercourse with him, the dominie turned round and said : "Do you wish to seak to me T" "Yes, ear; we want to know if yon be particularly engaged next Monday evening V "No, I believe not," replied Mr. N, the idea of a wedding fee presenting itself, which was not to be slighted on account of the color of the parties; "what is it you want P "We want you, if yon are 'customed to 'ficiate for colored persons who are willing to pay, next Monday even ing, to the Bed House near the toll gate." "Oh, yes. It's not my practice to refuse any one on such occasions. At what hour do you wish me to come f "Early candle-light, massa, if you please. We've not had anything of the kind in a good while." "Very well I'll be there," replied the dominie as he turned upon his heel thinking that the remark that they had nothing of the kind in a good while meant that no wedding had transpired among them in some time. True to his appointment, dominie N. was at the house designated in good season. The door opened into the principal room of the house, around which sat some twenty or thirty of Africa's sable children, dressed iu their best According to the instructions they have received from one of their number, they all rose at his entrance. He took a prof erred seat, which was behind a little desk at one end of the room, for a moment, and then re marked, if the parties were all ready they had better immediately take their places. In a moment all was bustle and con fusion. While some removed the chairs from the room, eight couple formed as if for a quadrille. The dominie stared round in utter amazement, when he who had been spokesman in engaging him at the village a few days before, coming np to him, his mouth grinning from ear to ear, said : "Massa Fuse, haben't you brought your fiddle with yout We haben't got one here." "Fuse! Fiddle! What doyoumennT" exclaimed the dominie, the whole affair beginning to dawn on his already quick mind. "Isn't it to be a wed ding V "O, no, Massa Fuse; we should hab the dominie here fust if we hab a wed ding." The dominie saw at a glance that he had been sold, and simply giving his name and occupation, which had alout the same effect on the darkies as if a bombshell had suddenly dropped among themdie rushed from the house. Bright Hide. One of Judge Waite's ancestors wss Thomas Wayte, a member of Parliament in Cromwell s dsy. and one of the judges who beheaded King Charles. The family seem to have been addicted to the judiciary cosiness tor a long ume. An Impreved Illnmlnatlng Oas. The London Mining Journal of a late date sneaks hitrhlv of an annaratus re cently devised and tested in London for the manufacture of illuminating gas. It is devised as simple in construction, yet of extraordinary efficacy in accom plishing its work of doubling the volume of gas now obtained from a given amount of coal, rendering the gas of a much higher llluniiuuting power, while its purity is increased, the process also effecting a great saving in lalior. The virtue of the process is in saving much of the refuse which now goes to waste, decomosing it and uniting the consti tuents with the gus given off by the usual process of roasting the coal in the retort, l nree retorts ot iron or clay, though a greater number may be em ploved if required, are placed in the ordinary manner in a setting, and coal is charged in to the ltottom one, the next retort being tilled with chalk, and the upper one with coke. The three are connected, so that the gas eliminated in the lower one is made to pass through the chalk and coke retorts aud finally after leaving the coke into the hydraulic main. The gas as it issues from the ltottom retort.comingthrough the incan descent chalk in the intermediate retort, has its constituents, tar and oiumonical water. lost in its usual process, converted into illuminating gas. A steam boiler heated by the same furnace which is used for the retorts (and the fuel for which maybe said to 'cost nothing) is placed alongside, and is conveyed from iliiiiouie luiemicuiaie rciorr inrongn a pipe placed iu the tire and of sutlicieut lenirth to thoroughly decompose the steam, resolving it into its gaseous con stituents, which act as carrying gases. 1 Ins drives the tar and liquor out of the chalk, the earn ing gases and the drv tcam reabsorbing them and carrying forward the highly illuminating projier ties thev are known to possess. The coal-gas aud water-gas combined then pass through the incandescent coke in the top retort, where the steam, having facilitated the union of all the illumi nating elements eliminated from the coal, passes on. Tests made at tempo rary works show that the illuminating power is greatly increased, while the ga is almost wholly free from sulphur and without ammonia. The lalor is diminished one-half, and part of the plant ami apparatus is dispensed with, so that the cost of works is essentially cheapened, and the wearand tear greatly reduced. Coal mis consumers M ill re joice that they are to be freed from the i -i r 1 1 curonic evil oi ioor gas, unu nave a material lightening of gas bills. The Llvlns Fire. When night fell on Jerusalem, and the tide and hum of business had ceased and one after another the lights were extinguished, and all fires quenched in the sleeping city, one was kept alive the tire that burned on God's holy altar. "It shall not be put out." Fed by such logs as blazed on the hearths and roared in the chimnevsof olden times, yet this had not been kindled by man's hands, or blown iuto dame by his breath. Like God's love in a lost world, or His wrath on the head of His dvini? Son. it had descended from the skies. "There came," it is said, when Aaron ami his sous were ottering their first sacrifice, tire out from lctore the Lord and consumed the burnt-offering aud the fat, which, when the people saw they shouted anil fell on their faces." Whether slumliering in its ashes or flaming with the fat of sacrifi ces, the fire burned up night and day on the altar, nor was it till after the lease of nearly a thousand year.3 that it went out quenched, hissing in the blood of priests who fell in defence of the temple at the first captivity. Now in that old altar on which the sacred fire was always burning, but where sacrifices were not always ottering, we see the heart of a devout believer. He is not always proving; but within His bosom there is a heaven-kindled love, tires of desire, fervent longings, which make linn always ready to pray and often engage Him in prayer. And thus he who engages in devout meditations, and holdscommuniott with God through His word and also throngh His works, may, iu resjM'ct of his habitual prevail ing" frame of mind, as well as of his frniifiit nravra 1m to "lirav with out ceasing,'' "always to pray;'' he is like an .r.oiian narp, on wnose strings, by night onlay, the wind has but to breathe to wake up sweet and plaintive music. Cape Breton Driving. Our conveyance was a onc-horse wagon, with one seat. The horse was well enough, but the seat was narrow for three people, and the entire estab lishment had in it not much prophecy of liaddeck for that dav. But we knew little of the power of Cape Hreton driv ing. It ln-eame evident that we should reach Uaddeck soon enough if we could cling to that wagon-seat. The morning sun was hot. The way was so uninter esting that we almost wished ourselves OaCK ill .OVU OCOI1U. uuc ouun iwu was bordered with discouraged ever irreens. through which we had glimpses of sand-drifted farms. If Baddeck was to lie like this, we had come on a fool s errand. There were some savage, low hills.and the Juilique Mountain showed itself as we got away from the town. In this first stage, the heat of the sun, the monotony of the road, aud the scar city of sli-ep during the past thirty-six hours, were an uniavoraoie 10 our keep ing on the wagon-seat. We nodded separately, we nodded and reeled in unison. But asleep or awake, the driver drove like a son of Jehu. Such driving is the fashion on C'ajie Bretou Island. Esjecially down-hill, we made the most of it ; if the horse was on a run. that was only au inducement to apply the lush; speed gave the promise ot greater possible speed. The wagon rattled like a bark-mill; it swiiledaud leaped about, and we finally got the exciting impres sion that if "the whole thing went to pieces, we should somehow go on such was our iuietus. Bound corners, over ruts and stones, and up hill and down, we went jolting and swinging, holding fast to the seat, aud putting our trust in things in general. At the end of fif teen miles, we stopped at a Scotch farm house, where the driver kept a relay, and changed horse. Atlantic Monthly. Love of the Beautiful. Place a young girl under the care of a kind-hearted, gracef nl woman, and she unconsciously to herself grows into a graceful lady . flace a boy iu the esta o lishiuenr of a thorough-going, straight forward business man, and the boy be comes a self-reliant, practical, business man. Children are susceptible crea tures, and circumstances, and scenes. and actions always impress, as you influence them, not by arbitrary rules, nor by stern example alone, but in a thousand other ways that speak through beautiful forms, brettv pictures. &c. so they will grow. Teach yonrchildren, then, to love the beautiful. If yoc are able, give them a corner iu the garden for flowers; allow them to have their favorite trees; teach them to wander in the prettiest wootUets ; show them where they can best view the sunset; rouse them in the morning, not with the stern "Time to work." but with the enthusi astic "See the beautiful sunrise !" Buy for them pretty pictures, and encourage them to decorate their room in his or her childish way. Give them an inch, and they will go a mile. Allow them the privilege, and they will make your home pleasant and beautiful. A RasaiM Bath. Men never can understand why women have a disinclination to new-fangled baths, Turkish baths, Bussian baths, and the like. Women are naturally cleanly ; ergo, they ought te like bath ing; ergo, they ought to like baths which bring the cleansing process np to a point of absolute perfection, and which enable the bather to luxuriate in a sense of delightful ease snd comfort, much more than ordinary bathing. The process of reasoning is all right ; one naturally replies, "Of course they ought" Then says the reasoner, who has gradually become exasperated, "Why don't they?" Sol try, good friend. There are three reasons why women have not as yet taken very kindly to the foreign methods of bathing which have been introduced in our midst One is thst they are afraid of everything to which they are not accustomed ; another, that they have no hereditary inclinations or in stincts to gratify by so doing (baths of any kind are a modern improvement in America) ; and, third, they have not much money. I confess to sharing the general lazy disinclination to being subjected to the drying or steaming process, and only yielded a reluctant assent to trying the Imperial Bussian baths because I felt stupid and had a cold and a headache and was going to a ball. A brisk walk on a bright morning stimulated me somewhat, and my courage rose as I entered the handsome establishment but sunk again as I followed the atten dant down-stairs through narrow pas sages lit with gas to one of the many little rooms which are used for dressing and undressing. I noticed, however, the finish of the panelled wood-work, the softness of the velvet carpets, the perfect cleanliness superadded to the elegance of the fitting-np and general surroundings, and concluded that it was not so bad, after all. There was a tempting little lounge in the dressing room, and, af terdisrobing, I was tempted to lie down and "make believe" I hail had my bath, but the attendant knocked at the door, and I folded my sheet tight about me and followed her along the dimly-lighted corridor. The misty at mosphere and my scant white drapery suggested the difference between myself and the Ghost in "Hamlet ;" but while I was endeavoring to solve the conun drum we plunged into a sea of vapor, and my mental as well as physical organs of vision became more obf us Oited than ever. I weakly climbed up on a slab, as I was told, lay down at full length, like a small cod in a fish-kettle, and silently resolved that if I got safe out of this it would take more than the ordinary inducement to bring me back again. The attendant supplied me with a can of cold water and a sponge to place to my mouth and occasionally bathe my face, and went awav saying she would be back shortly. I entreated her to make her absence very short, as I did not think I should continue to exist over five minutes ; but at the end of that time I found myself very com fortable ; in fact I rather began to like it. and had msde up my mind that steaming was not at all a disagreeable operation. Then I had to take np a recumbent position on snother slab and be brushed "curried" I suppose would be the proper term all over with a fine lather, which is afterwards washed off with tepid water. Then I was taken to the cold-water room, and having a fancy to see all there was of it, I requested that it might be "turned on" without limitation. But good gracious I I had no idea from how many different direc tions cold water could be made to come. It spouted up through the floor ; it fired at me like shot-guns from the walls ; it poured down in torrents over head and shoulders, until I cried Hold, enough ! and went to work with dry towels vig orously. Then came a period of deli cious repose in a curtained apartment enveloped in sheets and blankets ; then a rubbing and a kneading and a bend ing of the joints, which reduced them to a condition of wonderful flexibility ; then a syringing all over with delightful perfume ; then a prosaic dressing, but a feeling of marvellous lightsomeness and content I went out into the fresh air; my headache had disappeared, I felt amia ble, and might have been brilliant had there been any one upon whom to exert my recovered vivacity. 1 will not say how much I enjoyed the lunch that fol lowed, the dreamy afternoon ieta, and the ball in the evening but I would seriously advise women out of sorts, young ladies going to balls and who love to dance, to prepare for it by taking a Bussian bath. It is quite a new luxury, and that is a good deal in this blase age, when so many girls exhaust life before they have entered upon its cares and duties. Real Meaning of the Bankrupt Law, A correspondent of the Providence Journal thinks that in the present state of business it may be a relief to the community to know what the Supreme Court of the United States has decided the bankrupt law to mean with refer ence to sales and mortgages made by a person who, within six months after, goes into voluntary or involuntary bankruptcy. In the case of Tiffany against Lucas, the court says that "aU sales are not forbidden. The interdic tion applies to sales with a fraudulent object, not to those with an honest pur pose. It is for the interest of the com munity that every one should continue his business, and avoid, if possible, going into bankruptcy ; and yet bow could this result be obtained if the privilege were denied a person who wss unable to command ready money to meet his debts as they fell due, by making a fair disposition of his prop erty in order to accomplish this object It is true he may fail, noth withstanding all his efforts, in keeping out of bank ruptcy, and in that case any sale he has made within six months of that event is subject to examination. Two things must concur to bring the sale within the prohibition of the law : The fraudulent design of the bankrupt and the knowledge of it on the part of the vendee, or reasonable cause to be lieve that it existed." A rear "Behlnsea Craaos.' A South Sea Islander, the "monarch of all he surveved," was recently found on the small island of Bellinghausen. in the South Pacific. The man could not speak a word of English, and was, therefore, perfectly unable to explain to his rescuers how or in what way he had become a Robinson Crusoe. He had received some injuries, which tend to the supposition that he had been brought from one of the cluster of the Polynesian Islands, and left to famish ifter being first maltreated. He had lived by eating cocoanuts and oysters, and but for his discovery would proba bly have been able to sustain nature some time. He was taken to London and thence transferred to Liverpool, where he is now working as a laborer at Uie docks. Youths' Column. A Little Mcsiciax A hundred years sgo it wss that an old wheelwright in Bohemia used to play his harp on holi day evenings while his wife sang the songs of her girlhood, and both of them watched with wonder and delight to see their little five-year-old Joe run for a stick and a bit of board, and fiddle away in time with the music. The father and mother laughed sometimes, in spite of themselves : but the little musician was solemn and earnest and never made the smallest mistake in time or cadence. "Wonderful I" said his cousin, the old schoolmaster and organist. "Give the boy to me and I will make him a great musician." The parents were glad of the chance ; and poor little Joe was given over to the tender mercies of the crusty old schoolmaster, who gave him plenty of floggings, but very little to eat or wear. He would have run away, but for the music he loved so welL The Dean noticed his clear voice, snd j down, bnt he wishes she wouldn't take when his friend Von Kenter, the musical i it np. director of St Stephen s Cathedral C.mparison of our present estimates came from Vienna to vwitLim, he sent jof 8UndarJ works & literature with for little ; Joe to sing betore him. The thosJ formed by ns in earlier life, is hungry little fellow cast such long.ng ' recommenJe)l by Proctor as the best looks at a plate of cherries upon the ; te8t of the ot mbA Dean s table, that on Benter s heart was touched with pity ; ud, emptying! Boyalty not nnfreqnently gives evi them all into his hat, he bade him sing j dence of cravings of mind which empty his best which you may be sure he did i honors cannot satisfy. King Oscar, of in a voice so clear and sweet that Von ' Beater cried, "Well done !" It all ended in Joe's going to Vienna to sing in the choir of St. Stephen's, and receiving the best of instruction in violin and piano-forte pUyiug. With plenty to eat, no more floggings, and his beloved music from morning till night, he was as happy as a boy could be until, at sixteen years of age, his voice suddenly failed him, and he was sent from the choi r in tears and distress. But his courage did not ful him. He managed to earn a little by giving music lessons ; and while he lodged in a gar ret, and lived upon bread and water, he faithfully studied the works of the great masters, and practiced composing melo dies, which made him forget cold and hunger. He made himself master of the Italian aud Latin Luiguages ; and at last the path of famn aud honor was fairly open to him. His reputation be came world-wi.le and Lis wonderful oratories seem divinely inspired. So the little boy who was starved and flogged at Uaimburg, and won by a gift of cherries, who struggled through diffi culties and misfortunes without losing his trust in Uod, is kuown all over the world as Joseph Hadyn. How would yon have liked being a guest at a feast iu Pompeii, eighteen centuries sgo ? Let me see : The hour would have been about four in the afternoon, and, if you were a lady, you would have passed the whole morning at your toilet, assisted by a retinue of slaves, each of whom had a separate duty to perform. If you were a gentle man, less time would have been neces sary ; but even then yon must have slaves to wash you, rub yon, scrape you with a little curry-comb, and perfume yon with unguents ; the barber to shave you, clip and brush your hair, and, above all, to attend to yonr nails with pincers and penknife ; for no Koman with the least self-respect would have trimmed his own nails. The dignified Horace condescends to make sport of an eccentric fellow who used to pare his own nails. When you reached your friend's house, yon would have left your shoes at the door, had yonr feet and hands wakhed by a servant and taken your place upon an elegant couch, be fore which was a table, upon which the slaves placed one duity after another. and served each guest a portion, laid upon a piece of bread. Put it in your mouth with your fingers, and then throw the plate upon the floor, where a slave waits to gather it np. So the feast goes on ; and, after each course. the slaves bring you a bowl of water. into which you dip your fingers, and then wiDe them on a naukin which von brought in your pocket ; or, if you be . - . . - " dainty, on the hair of your cup-bearer. hen the feast is over, all the guests strip off the wreaths from their heads, throw the leaves into a goblet of wine, and pass it around for all to taste. Don't be a grumbler. Some people contrive to get hold of the prickly side of everything, to run against ail the sharp corners, and find out all the disagreeable things. Half the strength spent in growling would often set things right. Yon may as well make up your mind, to begin with, that no one ever found the world qnito as he would like it ; but you are to take your share of the troubles, and bear it bravely. Vou will be very sure to have burdens laid upon you that belong to other people, unless you are a shirs yourself; but don't grumble. If the work needs doing, and you can do it, never mind about the other boy who ought to have done it and aid n't. Those workers who fill up the gaps, and smooth away the rough tpots, aud finish np the jobs that othcis leave undone, they are the true tieace-uiak-trs, and worth a whole regiment of growlers. Beware of that ennning rascal, "Oh, Had I Learn to make tna best of what you have, and not lay the blame of careless, clumsy work upon your lack of tools. 'the most exquisite fabrics that the world has ever seen, are made in easteru countries with the i simplest of looms, and the clumsiest j contrivances for spinning, l'oa will , find that the people who are always j wishing for something more and better, are the very ones who make the poorest use of what they have. Uaydu Com posed some of his most wonderful melo dies with no better instrument than an old, cracked piano. Thk&K is an egg-shell in the Museum of the Jardin ties Plantes which holds eight and three-fourths quarts ; and a French merchant claims to have seen, in Madagascar, one which held thirteen n 11 .rl. HpMtll., I li j n tKiM. it ..... .mu o rare, are the eggs of the Brazilian humming-birds, wiueh are of the size of a sw-11 white beau. The daiutv Utile nest which holds them ia wovu of tine, atlkv tib-r .m.l l,k- h-.. to me loucn. ine young birds are only of the bigness of bumole-bees, and sometimes fall a prey to the ugly spiders, that drag them off for a juicy feast Tot is at the window pane, Watching little drops of rain ; Down the glass they pitter-patter ; Totty wonders what's the matter. Thoughtfully she lifts her eyes Upward to the darkened skies ; Earnestly and long she gazes ; Very sad her little face is, As she tarns and questions, "Why, Mamma, do the angels cry ?" "Varieties. Idleness is never a virtue. If yon wish to strike high, aim high. The Carlista have that little BO, bnt they'll surely find it a boa. Tale University has this year 79 in structors and 970 students. Colored hosiery is coming into favor among the New York belles. A Lincoln monument is to be erected in London, at a cost of $35,000. The first white men who trod on Pennsylvania soil, came down the Dela ware. A naughty boy recently referred to some of his sister's music as her "whin ing sheet" Although the father of our country never told a lie, he could be at times very cutting. A poorunfortunate who was "assisted" out of doors the other night ssvs he has I no objection to hia wife nnttinir her foot aweuen, nas lnvemea a ure-eecspe wmcn has proved a success. Howard Glyndon maintains that the truth of the epigram that "woman's work is never done" depends very much upon the fact that women do not train themselves to economize either their strength or their time. The Saracens are credited with origi nating the custom of weaving orange blossoms into bridal garlands. The orange branch was to them an emblem of prosperity, because of its bearing flowers and fruit at the same time. In Chicago recently, a man was brought np on a charge of burglary, and by the advice of his counsel, pleaded guilty. The District Attorney, however, declined to prosecute, and the Judge discharged the self confessed thief. A steamer recently hauled np in New London was fonnd to be covered with barnacles, in some places two feet thick. The vessel had been in the water little more than a year, and during that time had been used as a ferry boat running almost constant sixUen hours daily. A Virginia girl, sixteen years of age, recently ran away from home, and has since been employed in a Philadelphia shooting gallery, where she dresses in boy's clothing. She was probably am bitions, and chose the companionship of those who do not lead an aimless life. The excitement of the recent accident to young Merrimen, of Danbury, whereby he was thrown against a fence and broke both of his legs, brought together two estranged families and four estranged single parties in the neighborhood, and they are now friend lier than ever. Sir Samuel Baker recently delivered an address upon the subject of the slave trade in Africa, in which he said that on one occasion, after having lectured a chief at great length, upon the horrible nature of the slave trade, the chief con cluded the interview by offering to sell his son to Sir SamueL A Frenchman who recently died, left in his will a provision that his body be given to the Paris Gas Company to be put into a retort for the manufacture of gas,- giving as a reason that as he had always nsed his mind for the illumina tion of the public, he desired his body applied to the same purpose. Attempting to suppress a sneeze haa just proved a serious matter to a lady of Springfield, Mass. A partial par alysis was caused by the effort, by which one side of the face has become so distorted that her intimate friends so uiswrteu tnat ner intimate mends fiul recognize her features, and it is considered doubtful if they will ever rilDII ni u thai, natnual B r-vmn n n iu resume their natural appearance. They have got a pair of edible Chi nese dogs in Paris. The puppies are hairless and fat and live on vegetable food, and it is very hard to keep the epicures from devouring them alive. Who knows wbat profit and pleasure would result from their introduction to this country ? There are lots of puppies here, it is true, but then they are not exactly toothsome. Professor John Stuart Blackie writes to a foreign journal that since Latin is going ont of use as the language of universal communications between tavant and other learned authorities, Greek is the tongue best fitted to suc ceed it The latter embraces a larger and more varied field of culture than the English even, and is the basis of the technical terms of ail sciences, down te the very latest It has lately been asserted that the oldest person living was found to be a woman in Brazil. This may be so ; but according to the Los Angeles Express California contains the next oldest in habitant. She is a Mexican lady, and resides at San Gabriel. She has reached 131 years, and was always an inveterate smoker, or, it is argued, might have preserved more youth in her appear ance, and perhaps added to the years cf her life, though there are as yet no signs in her case of immediate dissolu tion. A Paris correspondent writes : "The Vaudeville was brilliantly illuminated the other night with a gigantic '100' in letters of fire blazing above its portals, in honor of the one hundredth night of 'Uncle Sam,' which charming play is mightily relished by the Parisians on account of the 'singular truthfulness to nature of the American manners therein presented.' They swallow it all, these benighted Parisians the steamboat that runs between New York and Chi- ! cago, the fashionable watering-place of Newark, the young lady who goes thither to spend a con pie of weeks in company with the gentleman to whom she is engaged, and all the rest of it" L..T"1 ot ha ,Amen5n I F,sh uItn,8is Association furnished i nc of h Pld Pr"Kr?M wh,d b made in the artificial propaga- I 'ion of flh within the last two or three years. 1 be salmon oi Caiilornia nave been transported to New England waters, and the shad of the Hudson snd the Connecticut now swim in the Columbia and the Sacramento. The time is evidently approaching when the rivers' and ponds of America that are now destitute of fish shall bloom, so to speak, with the trout and blosom with the black bass. The result of fish-cnl-tnre, if energetically managed, will un doubtedly be to render the best varieties of fish so cheap as to bring them within the reach of every one. This is a result that will commend itself alike to the practical philanthropist and the disci ples of Izsak Walton. 1 . ! ' "i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers