s
JgliE, , j IIR . 1 Site,
B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CONSTITUTION THI UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., JULY 29, 1874. NO. 30.
Poetry.
TWO.
Tiro lovera by a mom-grown spring;
They leaned aoft cheeks together there,
Mingled the dark and sunny hair,
And heard the wooing thrush ea sing.
O budding time !
O love's blest prims t
Two wedded from the portal stept:
The bells made happy carolings.
The air was soft as fanning wings,
White petals on the pathway slept.
O pure eyed bride !
O tender pride !
Two faces o'er a cradle bent:
Two hands shore the head were locked;
These preened each other while they rocked.
Those watched a life that love had sent.
O solemn hour !
O hidden power !
Two parents by the evening fire:
The red light fell sboot their knees
On beads that rose by slow degrees
Like buda upon the lily spire.
O patient life!
O tender strife !
The two still sat together there.
The red light shone about their knees;
But all the heads by slow degrees
Had goue and left that lonely pair.
O Toyase fast !
O vanished past !
The red light shone upon the floor.
And made the space between them wide;
They drew their chairs up side by side.
Their pale cheeks joined, and said, "Once
more !"
O memories !
O past that is !
BT JOHS J. PIATT.
Give me a home, thy heart,
For love to lie in;
The world is wide oh, let
The loot dove fly in.
Give me a home, thy heart.
For Song to light in,
For dreary hours to dream
And waken bright in.
Give me a home, thy heart,
For Love to see in.
For earth to look like heaven.
And heaven to be in !
-Appleton's Journal.
Choosing a Career.
One sharp lesson of the autumn's
panic, anl. indeed, of oar shifting
American fortunes without any panic
at all, is the wasteful folly and cruelty
of the old education of woman. It is
folly, in an economic sense, that ig
nores the sharp possibilities of the
future of our girls, while we send our
boys out into life fully armed and equip
ped foi the fray.
1 he young man, returned from col
lege or the scientific school, in the
bright glow of dawning powers, tin
trammeled as yet by care, and under
the shelter of his father's roof, decides
npon his career. Admiring aunts and
sisters waft their prayers and hopes
npon the winds that wing his sail; the
father's experience and counsel pilot
the boat through the shallow waters
near the shore. Everything aids his
start youth, freshness, and special
training. He has no responsibility npon
him save for his own health and good
behavior,
When does a woman choose her ca
reer In middle age; broken down by
sorrow; when she has seen her life's
hopes go down one by one in the hori
aon. As a girl, she has waited in her
father's house for the lover who never
came. All of youth has gone by in
vague dreams. In the frivolous busi
ness of fashionable society her strength
has spent itself.
Her hands are skilless save in deli
cate embroidery; her brain is sluggish,
though it aches with Dew anxiety and
despair. Heavily weighted with re
sponsibility, it may be, with the broken-down
father or the always invalid
mother now suddenly dependent npon
her, she sets out npon this new path
with weak, uncertain steps. Beginning
a career at forty, all untrained 1
The daughter of her washer-woman
can distance her; the girl who used to
bring home ber shoes has already shot
far ahead. She scarce used to notice
these girls, 6ave when they were thinly
clad or looked hungrier than usnaL It
was easy to loosen her purse-strings or
send them into the servants' room to
be warmed and fed. Where are they
now, while she is halting, timorous, on
the sharp stones of the highway ? The
washer-woman's girl is a salaried teach
er in the model school house yonder;
the other is book keeper in her father's
shop, and it pays her well.
Ah ! that artisan father, that mother
toiling early and late, had a deeper
wisdom in their need than the merchant,
the clergyman, the railway king, in his
hour of power. What cruelty like to
their indulgence now I The unreason
ing fondness which reared their girls in
luxurious helplessness, which assumed
the future ascertain in its golden round,
has its parallel in other lands. There
are Asiatic fathers who put out the eyes
of a girl that she may be a more pa
thetic beggar. To the study of this
Chinese prototype we commend the
American father who, choosing a career
for his boys in the fine freshness of
early manhood, leaves his darling
daughters helpless amidst the bullets of
the changing tide. Harper's Maga
zine. A Leason of Gratitude.
A gentleman was once making in
quiries in Russia about the method of
catching bears in that country. He was
told that, to entrap them, a pit was dug
several feet deep, and after covering it
over with turf, leaves, etc, some food
was placed on the top. 1'he bear, if
tempted by the bait, easily fell into the
snare. But," he added, "if four or
five happen to get in together, they all
get out again." "How is that ?" asked
the gentleman. "They form a sort of
ladder, by stepping on each other's
shoulders, and thus make their escape."
"But how does the bottom one get out?"
"Ah ! these bears, though not possess
ing a mind and soul such as God has
given us, yet can feel gratitude ; and
they won't forget the one who has been
the chief means of procuring their
liberty. Scampering off, they fetch the
branch of a tree, which they let down
to their poor brother, enabling him
speedily to join them in the freedom in
which they rejoice." Sensible bears,
we should say, and a great deal better
than some people that we hear about,
who never help anybody but themselves.
The Carrier Dove.
The choirs in the Boston churcLes
are said to cost $112,000 a year.
WOBKIXG FOR A LIVISG.
"Ruined ?"
Ralrjh Hartston mafa IVim ernlama.
tion in a half incredulous and wholly
surprised tone ; and no wonder ! Sidney
Coster had tha Haw Mnm lum f V
richest of all that wealthy circle of
w ii icq iney were me representatives.
"Tea, ruined,"
"But I do not understand it, Coster,"
said Harts ton.
. "I suppose not"
"1 do not I cannot realize it," per
sisted Harts ton.
"Yon would if you were in my place,"
replied Sidney bitterly.
'How did it happen please explain,"
mid Hartston, lighting a fresh cigar.
However much our friends may lose, it
seldom interferes much with our plea
sures in this world.
'Simply and naturally enough," re
plied Coster, declining with a wave of
his hand the proffered cigar. "No, I
must give up that luxury now ; I have
no money to spend on cigars. I trusted
my money to my uncle, who, by the
way, is the best fellow in the world,
and he lost it all for me ; that's alL"
"I am amazed at your coolness." said
Ralph.
"No use fretting about it now ; that
won't mend the matter, or make it any
better."
"That's true enough, but very hard
to practice, I imagine. How did your
ancle, who, by the way, I should call a
very sharp fellow, if he had lost all my
fortune for me, lose all this money T
Large sum I believe ?"
Cnnl TnnnrlfArl anil fiffw fbnnaani3
replied Coster as composedly as if the
i . . . .
sums were uui toe same numoer oi
cents, or belonged to some one else.
"And he lost it ?"
"Yes, that's just it speculating,"
interrupted Sidney, as his friend glanced
inquiringly at him.
"And you, Sidney, what will you?"
"Why go to work, of course 1 What
else is there to do ?"
"Work ! Sidney Coster at work ! He
the daintiest and most wealthy aristo
crat of us all. at work ! Why the idea
is preposterous and absurd.
The sneering laugh which followed
these words nettled his listener, and
roused all the manhood within him.
"And why shouldn't I work or you
either, for that matter ? God intended
that all his creatures should earn their
bread, and because we have always
lived and grown in the sun of pleasure,
and eaten the bread of idleness, is it
any reason why we always should ? Out
upon such ideas, I say I and away with
this false pride, that will permit a gen
tleman to swindle, lie, gamble and
steal, and not lower himself ; but
abases him to the dust if he dares to
honestly earn his living. It's all wrong,
and I will not be bound by it 1"
He showed by his earnest look that
he meant it, every word. Hartston
was aghast at such levelling ideas, and
said :
"Just as you please, of course, Cos
ter. You are your own master. Bnt,
of coarse, if yon choose to put yourself
down in the dirt, yoa won't expect your
friends to come down to the same level.
L for one. would never think of asso
ciating with a man who worked for a
living.
Sidney Coster's lip curled in con
tempt of such a character. Hartston
continued :
Why don't you go ahead, old fellow
and marry some rich girl ? You are a
good-looking fellow and might very
easily do it."
"What an honorable thing that would
be, wouldn't it ? I would rather starve
than thus degrade myself and deceive a
woman 1"
"As you please. Good-day 1" And
one "friend" was gone.
Coster looked after him a moment,
and in spite of his brave words he felt
bitter against the fate that had made
him a poor man. It was a pleasant life,
this that he had been leading, and it
was hard to give it np.
The next thing to do was to search
for em ployment He possessed nothing
in the world except his clothes and a
small amount of jewelry relics of his
former butterfly existence and a heart
full of courage. He did not know how
to work, had never attempted even the
slightest details of business, but he set
resolutely about the task before him.
He walked the city for days and days
bnt all in vain. No one wanted him.
There were plenty of situations, but
when his qualifications were asked he
was forced to tell the miserable truth
and confess that he knew, just noth
ing. How bitterly he regretted now,
in his hour of need, that he had not
spent the hours which he ha 1 wasted in
acquiring his accomplishments, in
learning something that would help him
in his strait. Regrets were useless, and
he went steadily forward npon the bard
path of duty.
At last he lost all hopes of finding
employment in the city, and turned his
face toward the spreading fields, and
shady groves, and contented, peaceful
homes of God's own land, the country.
He did not know what he should do
there ; he had not a friend in the wide
world, he thsnght, who cared whether
he lived or died. Where his nncle
the nnhappy cause of his misfortunes
had gone he did not know. He only
knew he was alone, tired, and heart
sick, and discouraged, turning with a
longing heart from the hot and dusty
city streets, to fresh, green meadows of
the country.
He went For two days he tramped
slowly along, sick in mind and in body.
He had tried again and again to find
employment as he came along, but still
the same helplessness of ignorance was
his bane barrier. He was sick, very
sick, and knew not where he might lay
his weary head. At last he fell, and
knew no more.
After the long blank and darkness he
had a dreamy sense of a pleasant,
shaded room ; of open, vine-covered
windows, filled with fresh, pure flowers;
of a kind, hearty.rngged face that came
and looked at him, and then spoke
cheerily to another kind and motherly
face that hovered over him oftener, and
smoothed his pillows, and brushed back
his clustering hair, matted with his
restless fever-tossings ; of another face
an angel he dreamed it was younger
and so fresh and sweet that the very
sight of it seemed to put him far on his
road to health again.
This face did not come as often as
the others. It would steal softly in for
a moment with the other faces; and
even then, if he happened to be awake,
it would dart out again in a frightened
manner, and as the days passed on and
he grew better, it did not come at all ;
and then he grew impatient to get well
and find where it had gone.
At last the pleasant morning came
that he was well enough to walk out
and sit on the pleasant porch; and
then, unasked by them, for they were
too kind to intrude upon his secrets, he
to (them all his story, and they lis
ten tt and gave them hi warmest sym
pathy ; and one face the timid, fresh,
young one was bathed in tears behind
the leafy screen, where it had crept
unseen.
He had found his haven at last
Parmer Roys ton the good, worthy soul
that he was offered him refuge and a
El ace where he could earn his own
ving; and he went to work. His
whole heart was bent upon learning,
and he progressed rapidly with his
duties of the farm. He made just as
rapid headway into the affections of the
family. Of the family in truth ; bat of
the shy heart in particular, he could
not feel as sure. That very shyness
that added such a charm to her sweet
young beauty, interposed an almost
insurmountaoie Darner to ner conn
dence. He could not tell how she re
garded him ; she was so shy and re
served, scarcely ever speaking to him,
and never remaining alone with him for
a moment
The months rolled on and he had
been there a year. In that year of
independence and healthy labor he had
grown strong and ragged, and hand
somer than ever. He had improved in
mind, also, for though his accomplish
ments were thrown aside, be bad gained
a store of practical knowledge that was
invaluable to him ; and more, he was
desperately in love. The young, shy
face had conquered him completely.
One pleasant summer evening he
strolled down by the river, and unex
pectedly came upon Hattie Royston
sitting silently beside the old tree that
grew upon the water's edge. She
started to her feet and would have ran
away, bat he gently detained her with
his arm.
"Why do you always avoid me. Hat
tie ?" he asked, trying to look into her
averted face.
She made him no reply, and only
turned farther away from him.
"Do yon dislike me then so much
Hattie?" he asked reproachfully.
The look she flashed upon him was a
direct denial of the charge, yet she
would not speak.
"I love you so dearly and so tenderly
that my whole life must be a sad one if
you do not love me in return. Yoa do
not wish my Ule to be that, do you,
Hattie ?"
The answer came so slow and faint
that he had to bend his face close down
to hers to hear the soft little whisper.
"JSo; not that r
He bent so low that his face almost
touched hers, and then he saw it was a
rosy red, with now and then a tear
sparkled upon it like a diamond He
thought she was pained and in distress.
"I am so sorry, Hattie. I did not mean
to give you pain."
She stopped him with a little finger
pressed upon his lips ; and now she
looked up, grown bolder in ber joy.
"Can yon not see that I am only
happy ? that I am crying for that very
happiness?" and she smiled lovingly
thro' her tears.
"Yoa love me then, darling?" he
asked as he drew her closer to him, and
bent down to look within her eyes.
"Yes, yes ! I have loved you so
much ever ainco "
"Ever since when ?" he asked, as she
paused in sweet confusion, and her old
shyness returned
"Ever since the day yoa fell oat there
in the road and we brought you in."
They said no more just then ; what
need ? the silence is full of words to
lovers, and they were more than con
tent with this.
"Will I let you have her ? Of course
I will ! and glad of the chance to give
her to so good a husband I" said Farmer
Royston when Sidney asked him for
his prize; and the good wife spoke
likewise.
And so the days rolled rapidly to
wards the one appointed for the wed
ding. And on that very morning a
letter came from the absent uncle. It
was as follows :
"Drab Sidney : The speculations
that we thought had ruined yoa, have
turned oat -splendid. I have in my
possession over one handled and seventy-five
thousand dollars, all yours.
Come and take possession at onne.
Then followed his nnole's address
and signature.
Not until after they were married did
he show the letter to his bride. She
rejoiced at his good fortune for his
eake and said :
"You were poor, Sidney, when I mar
ried you ; so you see, I loved you for
yourself alone."
His rich friends would have come
back to him, but they found no wel
come. He had tried them, and they
were found wanting.
A Dangerous Way of Fishing.
A colored man named James Ellis
tells a wonderful story about the nar
row escape of a companion who accom
panied him out upon the beach recently
to fish. The two men, it seems, have
been in the habit of fishing every morn
infs, at an early hour, and always go
amply prepared with honks and lines
adapted for the capture of members of
the tinny tribe of all sizes. On this
certain morning Ellis and his com
panion, Wash , threw in their
lines, after wading some distance into
the surf, and, according to bis usual
custom, Wash tied the line about his
left wrist. A short time afterward.
Ellis, who stood some distance to the
eastward, heard Wash shouting, "I've
got him ! I've got him !"
"What have you ketchedf asked
Ellis.
"I believe it's a whale or a jewfish,"
answered Wash.
As Wash made this answer, Ellis no
ticed that he was being dragged for
ward into the gulf, and started to ren
der assistance. In the meantime Wash
was being dragged rapidly out to sea,
at times struggling with all his might
on his feet, and at other times sub
merged beneath the waves. It was
then that Ellis fully realized the peril
of his companion, having remembered
his habit of tying the line about his
arm while fishing.
It was an awful moment ith al
his efforts, Ellis found that it would be
impossible to reach the struggling man.
Already he had passed the first bar; a
moment more he would be in deep
water, and not being able to swim.even
if he succeeded in releasing himself
from the line he must certainly perish.
Suddenly, however, he was noticed to
stop, and standing upon his feet, raised
both hands above the waves.
"Wash," shouted Ellis, rushing for
ward, "has you done got loose t"
"Yes," was the reply, "bat, Lord
bless you, it was a tight squeeze, sure
enough."
"What was itr asked Ellis.
Wash replied that when he first fast
ened on to it he thought it was a big
red fish or gar, but a few jerks con
vinced him that it was either a whale
or a shark, most probably the latter.
At one time after crossing the bar he
saw it leap out of the water, and it ap
peared to be about ten feet long, as
near as he could calculate. The prob
ability is that Wash will bold his line
in his hand the next time he goes oat
to fish.
What Slse Were JIaaktas! Oaee ?
The Bible says "there were giants in
those days," and it mentions several
MUU vf mania a 4k. V Anliai n tliu
Aaakims, the femims, the Zonzonims
and others. The Ban k rancisoo Chron
icle says :
Profane historians also mention
giants; they gave seven feet of height
to Hercules, their first hero; and in our
days we nave seen men eight feet high.
The giant who was shown in Rouen in
lsdo, measured eight feet some inches.
The Emperor Maximin was of that size;
Shenkins and Platerus, physicians of
the last eentnry, saw several of that
stature, and Goropins saw a girl who
was ten feet high.
The body of Orestes, according to
the Greeks, was 11 feet (which is
doubtless untrue). The giant Ualbara,
brought from Arabia to Rome under
Claudius Cesar, was near ten feet; and
the bones ofSeoondilla and Pufio,keep
ers of the garden of Sail us t, were bat
six inches shorter.
Funnnm, a Scotchman, who lived at
the time of Eagene the Second, King of
Scotland, measured 11) feet; and Jacob
le Maire, in his voyage to the Straits
of Magellan, reports that en the 17th
day of December, 1615, they found at
Port Desire several graves covered with
stones, and, having the curiosity to re
move the stones, they found human
skeletons ten and eleven feet long.
These seem to be well-authenticated
cases, and there are others, some of
which are incredible.
The Chevalier Soory.in his voyage to
the Peak of Teneriffe, says they found
in one of the sepulchral caverns of that
mountain the head of a Gaanche which
had eighty teeth, and that the body
was not less than fifteen feet long.
The giant Ferragus, slain by Orlande,
nephew of Charlemagne, was eighteen
feet high.
Rioland, a celebrated anatomist, who
wrote in 1614, says some years before
there was to be seen in the suburbs of
St Germain the tomb of the giant Iso
ret, who was twenty feet high.
January 11, 181 d, masons, digging
near the ruins of a castle in Dauphin,
in a field which by tradition had long
been called the Giants' field, at the
depth of eighteen feet discovered a
brick tomb thirty feet long, twelve feet
wide and eight feet high, on which was
a gray stone, with the words "Theuto
bochus Rex" engraven thereon. When
the tomb was opened they found a
human skeleton entire, 25J feet high,
10 feet wide across the shoulders, and
5 feet deep from the breast-bone to the
back. His feet were about the size
each of an ox's foot, and his shin-bone
measured four feet
Near Mezarina, in Sicily. 1515. was
found a giant thirty feet high. His
head was the size of a hogshead (?) and
each of his teeth weighed five ounces.
Near Palermo, in the valley of Ma-
zara, in Sicily, a skeleton of a giant
thirty feet long was found in the year
154a, and another of thirty-three feet
high in 1550; and many curious persons
have preserved several of these gigantic
bones.
The Athenians found near that city
two famous skeletons, one of thirty
four and the other of thirty-six feet
high.
At Totu. in Bohemia, in 758, was
found a skeleton, the head of which
could scarce be encompassed by arms
of two men together, and whose legs,
which they still keep in the castle of
that city, were twenty-six feet long.
The skull of a giant found in Mace
donia September, 1691,held 210 pounds
of corn.
The celebrated Sir Hans Sloane, who
treated this matter very learn edly.does
not doubt these facts, but tninks the
bones were those of elephants, whales
or other enormous animals. Bnt ele
phants' bones may be shown for those
of giants, but they can never impose
on connoisseurs. Whales, which by
their immense bulk are more proper to
be substituted for the largest giants,
have neither arms nor legs; and the
head of that animal has not the least
resemblance to that of a man. If it be
true, therefore, that a great number of
the gigantic bones which we have men
tioned have been seen by anatomists,
and have by them been reputed real
human bones, the existence of giants is
proved
A Ten-Thousand Dollar Girl.
On a certain day, on a Pennsylvania
railroad, a belle of a thriving Pennsyl
vania town, the daughter of a wealthy
lumber merchant was traveling in the
same car with a shrewd old citizen of
her native town and an agreeable young
gentleman from the West who tells the
story,
'1 he latter had been talking to the
belle; but as night drew on and the
young lady grew drowsy, he gave np
His seat to her and placed himself be
side the somewhat cynical Pennsylva
nian. The latter began eonversation
by pointing to, a high mountain past
which they were whirling, and said :
"You see that mountain f Six or
eight years ago it was covered with as
tine a forest as ever grew, and was
worth 10,000 and upward. Now, with
out a tree, covered with stumps, the
land is scarcely worth a continental.
The net produce of that mountain lies
over there in that seat." and he pointed
to the recumbent belle; "that is my
calculation. It has just absorbed all of
that lumber, which her father owned,
to raise and educate the girl, pay for
her clothes and jewelry, bring her out
in society and maintain hcrthcre. Some
of you young men, if you were given
your choice between the mountain yon
der as it now stands and the net pro
duce on that seat, would tike the net
produce: but as for me, give me the
stamps."
A Dancer's Toll.
How many people who go to see the
great spectacular plays of the day think
of the unceasing toil, the hard muscular
labor which are the toil, of the graceful
ballet dancer ! There is no day laborer
whose life is as laborious as that of the
dancer ; for the skill originally attained
through long-continued and painful ef
fort can be retained only by weari
some, though perhaps painless work.
If this aspect of the ballet girl's life
was more frequently thought of, there
would be less of the thoughtless, popu
lar assumption that she is immoral and
dissolute. The very conditions of her
professional life require her to preserve
her health unimpaired by dissipation ;
and if hard work is an antidote to
temptation she is certainly triply armed.
Indeed, the art of dancing has been
employed by certain ascetics as a safe
guard against temptation, and it was
with this view that the dancing cere
monies of the Shakers were devised by
their founder. Mother Ann Lee. The
publio dancer does not lead a luxurious
life, and rarely a dissolute one. let us
at least do her justice when we gaze on
her graceful and hard-taught gymnas
tic.
Tnloa Tanin wrote anvwhere and any
how in cabs, is the cafe, or amid the
hubbub of the greenrooms oi ueatrea.
About Female Beaafy.
Only a few years ago a French writer
on aesthetics insisted on seeing in our
ideas of physical beauty something con
ventional, and contended that the ideal
of female beauty changes, from epoch
to epoch, in accordance with principles
similar to those which govern the revo
lutions that take place, from time to
time, in the philosophic, religions and
social views men take of things, "the
chief difference," he says, "being that
tnese changes are not so radical and
striking.
Now, that Arthur Schopenhauer has
given to the world his brilliant chapter
on the metaphysics oi love, such a su
perficial theory can only be defended
by a Frenchman. In Germany it would
be hard, nowadays, to find any one of
culture who would contend that physi
cal beauty is, "a matter of taste."
Schopenhauer has clearly shown that
the ideal, radical type ot the human
race is not fixed by the majority of the
cultured nations, but is fully traced
oat in the nature of the human organ
ism. Beauty is Z weckmassigkeit con
formity to the end in view, suitable
ness, that perfection necessary to the
accomplishment of a given end in the
highest sense of the word The better
adapted the human body is for the per
formance of its various functions, the
more beautiful it is; in other words, the
more it charms and delights the senses.
The better suited each individual or
gan is for the discharge of its office, the
more it pleases the normal buman eye.
How it nevertheless, often happens
that a man is fascinated by women
whose physique differs widely from the
radical type (Urundtypus) of the race,
while he remains cold ana indifferent
in the presence of the most perftct
beauty, Schopenhauer, and after him
Yon Hartmann, in his "Philosophy of
the Unconscious, have thoroughly ex
plained Were every man himself an
ideal beauty, then he would be incapa
ble oi loving any but an ideal woman.
Thus nature has provided that the im
perfect on the one side shall be neutral
ized by the opposite imperfection on
the other side. For example, we see
the violent pair with the mild; the
plump with the slim; the tall with the
short Nor do these instinctive pre
ferences prejudice the ideal conception
of beauty. While I may fully appre
ciate the beauty of a mountainous land
scape, 1 may, for individual reasons,
prefer to live on the plains.
Schopenhauer has taken the trouble
to examine womanly beauty in detail,
and illustrate, point for point, the
Erinciple of Z weckmassigkeit At first
e considers the two fundamental con
ditions without which female beauty is
not conceivable namely, youih and
health. Here even the unthinking mind
readily sees that beauty and usefulness
(Zweckmassigkeit) go hand-in-hand, for
the human organism performs most
easily and perfectly its varied functions
in that spring time which we c-ll youth,
and the more perfectly these functions
are performed the nearer the approach
to perfect health. After making these
general statements, the philosopher
examines the constituents of beauty in
detail. Why are faultless teeth pleas
ing? Because the more perfect they
are, the more perfectly they discharge
their functions. Why, in all ages, has
a woman's well-developed bosom been
admired ? Because it guarantees ade
quate nourishment for her children.
Why are we attracted by soulful eyes ?
Because they mirror the psychological
characteristics of the individual, and
indicate a happily balanced brain. We
also instinctively attach great weight
to those peculiarities which especially
distinguish man from the brute crea
tion a well-developed chin, for exam
ple. "The more chin the more man,"
says Lavater.
Beauty is clearly the most valuable
gift that Nature has bestowed upon
woman.
"A little turn of the nose up or
down," says Schopenhauer, "has de
cided the fortunes of many a girl for
life and justly so; for as is the shape
of her nose, so is she a more or less
perfect specimen of the race.
In this matter the ancients were much
franker than are the moderns. Our
Puritano-Christian, or better, perhaps,
Pnritano-hypocritical era, is fond of
disparaging physical beauty, to the ad
vantage of the moral and intellectual
beauties. We treat physical ad van
tages, which are "only skin-deep," with
a certain disdain, and endeavor to be
influenced in our preferences by
'higher considerations the graces of
the mentality. It would certainly be
foolish to contend that beauty of per
son may balance every other endow
ment bnt to deny the advantage or
quality of beauty wonld be silly and
ungrateful toward the Giver of that
which, in all the varied conditions of
life, has ever been one of the best of
recommendations a certain guaran
tee for goodness of heart and nobility
of soul.
The gifted Paul Heyse, in his charm
hg novel. "Der Kreisrichter." is most
eloquent in his opposition to this fool
ish affectation. The old argument,tnat
there is no merit in beauty, might, with
equal justice, we offered regarding the
qualities oi the mind; we have no more
to do with the making of our brains
than with the making of our faces or
forms.
It is somewhat remarkable that wo
men are themselves most inclined to
depreciate the worth of female beauty.
Beauty," says Madame Germacy,
"is a poor, fragile thing. The woman
who would reign for any length of time
should be careful not to depend for
her authojity on anything so perish
able." Perishable or not, good looks are, and
will remain, the only thing woman can
safely depend npon for dominion. You
may reason and philosophize as much
as you please; the laws of nature always
have and always will outweigh your
philosophy. Ernst Eckstein.
A Jag.
The following is a leading editorial
in the Middletown Constitution. The
writer evinces a profound knowledge of
bis subject which could have been
acquired only by many years of obser
vation, and which elicits our wondering
admiration :
The jag is a most singular utensil.
A pail, tumbler, or decanter may be
rinsed, and you may satisfy yourself by
optical proof that it is clean; but the
jug has a little hole in the top, and the
interior is all in darkness. No eye
penetrates it no hand moves over the
surface. You can clean it only by pat
ting in water, shaking it and pouring
it out If the water comes out clean
you judge you have succeeded in clean
ing the jag. and vice versa. Hence,
the iug is like the human heart No
mortal eye can look into its recesses,
and you can only judge of its purity by
what comes out of it
Rare Aatographa.
An extremely valuable collection of
autographs, belonging to the late bir
m ...1 j T
liuuui i lie, was soiu uueiy in -London.
Among the most important lots,
and those which brought the highest
r rices, was a Ion? letter of Rabelais, in
Latin, which was knocked down, after
a spinted competition, for 63; three
letters of Edward Gibbon, which real
ized prices from 3 up to 9 10s.; two
letters ot Kobert Burns, which fetched
8 8s. and 7 12s.. respectively, and
the original MS. of his song "Scots wha
hae wi' Wallace bled," which was
knocked down for 35. A letter of
Buckingham, the favorite of Kings
Charles and James, who was assassi
nated by Fenton. fetched 17 10.: an
interesting letter of Lord Byron.speak
ingof the critics of the press, 18. A
holotrranh letter of Charles I., one nam
folio, addressed to "My only deare
- 1 . , . , rX 1
sister," ana aatea Trom in raiace oi
Greenwich, also 18. A long letter
from Boswell to David Garrick, men
tioning Dr. Johnson, 17; a letter of
"Kitty Olive" to "My dear Podv."
dated Twickenham, 1784, 11; one from
Francis Bacon, Viscount St Albans,
one page folio, 31; a mere signature
of Nell Gwynn, or rather only her ini
tials scrawled at the foot of a letter in
dited by her to an amanuensis as
ignorant of spelling as herself, 38;
two letters ot William Cowner, 5 5s.
and 7, respectively; a letter of the
Duke of Wellington to Mr. Wilson
Croker, on the subject of the battle of
Waterloo, 3 15s.; a portrait of John
Wesley, "taken by electricity," and
accompanied by letters of Professor
Faraday and others, a curious speci
men of the dawn which came before
the rising sun of photography, 4; a
long letter of Jeremy 1 avlor on the
subject of Irish ecclesiastical and politi
cal affairs, 7 15s.; an unpublished let
ter of Voltaire respecting his intended
purchase of an estate at Ferney, 5 5s.;
two letters of the witty Dean of St.
Patrick, Jonathan Swift, 13 5s. and
18.).; one of Sir Richard Steele,
5 15s.: one of Laurence Sterne. 13: a
long letter of Robert Southey.referring
to his Madoc, 7 7a.; one in Italian of
1'eter faul Kubens. 7: one of John
Dryden, 35; another of the same,
17 10s.; one of Schiller, in German,
17 10s.: one of Richardson, the novel
ist, 4: one of Sam nel Foote, 7 15s;
one of Matthew Prior, 4 6s.: one of
William Cohbett, 9 5.; two letters of
Alexander Pope, 6 10s. and 11 re
stiectively; one of Lord Nelson, ad
dressed to Lady Hamilton, 5 5s.; two
letters of Samuel T.Coleridge, 10 and
13 each; a speech of Thomas Babing
ton Macaulay, evidently written out
for the reporters, 13 10s.; a letter of
David Hume, 18 10s.; one of arch
bishop Leiirhton. $18: a letter of
Charles Lamb, 14 5s.; the original
manuscript of the "Dissertation on
Roast Pig," signed "Elia," 34; a letter
of Oliver Goldsmith, addressed to
David Garrick, which fetched the lartre
sum of 80: a letter of "Marve. Oueen
of England," so signed in full, and
dated in loots, i.7os.; a long holograph
letter from the same Queen to her
uncle, the Cardinal of Lorraine, on the
international politics of France and
England, which fetched 95: and. per
haps, the very best existing specimen
of a letter of the Protector, Oliver
Cromwell, addressed to Sir Edmund
H:icon. iri vine details of some military
exploits before Gainsborough, which
was knocked down, after considerable
competition, for 106.
The Love of Gambling.
A story of love of gambling, perhaps
exaggerated, is told in a French paper.
A roturier, suddenly enriched by specu
lation, is riding in his carriage. The
footman behind, somewhat disturbed
n account of the non-payment of his
wages, putting his head through the
window at the back of the coach, begs
his master not to forget to pay him his
dues.
"How much is it, La Fie or ?" asks
the marter.
"One hundred and twenty-five livres,
may it please Monsieur."
"All right ; here it is," and the master
spread the paper currency of the period
on the cushions of the carriage,
"Now, La Fleur, have you a pack of
cards with yoa ?"
"Certainly," replied the obsequious
lackey, producing the cards at once.
"Very good Now, I will be banker,
and you shall play against me. I shall
take the front seat' the back one will
serve for our table: you can look
through the back window, and we can
have a cozy game ;" and so the playing
commenced.
Luck first turned for the master ;
little by little the footman's hundred
and twenty-five livres went until they
were reduced to five ; then capricious
fortnne took the opposite course, and
La Fleur won all his masters money.
Piqued at his losses, the master now
wagered a horse, which the lackey won ;
then tbe pair of horses, next the harness,
and lastly the carriage, The footman
won everything.
"My watch now, if you say so," said
the master, "against the horse in the
stable at home ; or if I lose, you shall
take my place inside the carriage, and
I will get up behind Agreed ? The
king is for me the queen for you. I
have lost Get in, La Fleur. Ton
shall ride, and I will get np behind ;"
and the exchange of places was accord
ingly made.
A Wonderlnl Woman.
Perhaps as good a criticism as has
ever been made upon George Eliot she
herself made when she said that it was
easy to be eloquent;that it was so much
harder to be true. This is the keynote
of her manner. Every word must stand
for a thing. Each clause must mean
what it says and more. Not a careless
or half true adjective or adverb shall
escape her. In this course she has
kept on for many years. W hen a ban k
pays a hundred cents on the dollar, and
does so every day for a generation.
people get to think that its promise to
pay priuted upon a paper note is as
good as gold. Whether or no George
r i . - - r i- ii : :
Clioi is a poet, u we iiuu uer wnuiig iu
verse we mav be sure that the verse
means something. We have opened
her recent volume with the expecta
tion that it would contain deep thoiiirht
and high feeling, and many a terse,
true utterance. We have, of course,
not been disanoointed. e can well
suppose it to be true that it is the de
sire of her heart to be a poet. Poetry,
indeed, con hi never be a sufficient ve
hicle of expression for her. When her
mind is bent in serious and powerful
gaze npon some problem of the heart,
or when her humor is active, or when
she is making a close fitting garb of
satire for some lolly, tnen sne wouia
write in nrose. But blissful or musical
thniifl-ht will always be said in verse by
any one who has both the vision and
the faculty. Some truth which has
lain in the author's mind for many
months, some picture or emotion which
has lonir been nursed by himjind which
has always delighted turn, is lost in a
page of frose like a needle in a hay
stack. The artist wishes for such crea
tions a proper separation. He would
set such a thought upon the pedestal of
a poem.
Whoever wishes the welfare of others,
has already advanced toward securing
his own.
Youths' Column.
Bed-Time.
Bow-bad lay ta bar trundle bed.
with her em .U hand tolde t ao re her head ; .
And axed ner innocent eyes on me.
'.Voile m tnougullul .k4w eame orer ber glee
"Mamma. sue mil', b-n 1 itoto ftleep,
I pre tbe Fether mr soul to keep,
Aud becomes and carrim it far away.
To tbe txantif ill borne wbi-re bis sunrls stay !
1 fattier tvd rue end limes so wtu.,
I sing with tbe Angeia turuogb all tbe long night ;
And when in the niurulng 1 wake from my -leep.
He giTes back the soul that I gave him to keep;
And 1 only remember, bae bc-utif ul dreams,
Tbe garlaikds ot uliies, tile srnderf ul streams.
Thbbx is a man herding cows on a
great open square in front of my win
dows. He seems to have an easy time
oi u, so lar as l can judge, lying com
fortably on the green grass, while his
great shepherd dog sits beside him alert
ana vigilant If a cow strays toward
the edge of the green, the drover points
with his finger, and the dog dashes
away, circles around the vfjeraut aud
brings her back. I admin the (Treat
shaggy fellow. He seems to me to have
fully as much intelligence ha his mas
ter, if one may judge from the expres
sion of his face. But then I remember
that it is hardly safe to judge by looks
alone. There is a kind of monkey, the
aog-iacea Daooon, witn snob a solemn
countenance that the old Egyptians felt
sure that he was possessed of mysteri
ous wisdom and worshiped him accord
ingly. When they made images of their
gods they always represented the gods
of learning and science by tbe image of
tnis baboon. However 1 have known
other folks than monkeys to look much
wiser than they were. There goes a big
white cow straight for the bridge. The
drover smokes sleepily, but the dog is'
all in a quiver. He arches his long
fringed ears, turns nneasily towards his
master, whines a little, and then is away
over the thick green turf like the wind.
ine cow sees him coming, turns lei
surely and goes on eating as if she never
had a thought of crossing that bridge,
and the dog comes trotting back with
an air of satisfaction in having done his
duty.
Lovk op thk Bkacttftl. Place a
young girl under the care of a kind
hearted graceful woman, and she, un
consciously to herself, grows into a
graceful lady. Place a boy in the es
tablishment of a thorough-going,
straight-forward business man, aud the
boy becomes a self-reliant, practical
business man. Children are susceptible
creatures, 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, pretty pic
tures. Arc, so they will grow. Teach
your children, then, to love the beauti
ful. If yoa are able, give them a
corner in the garden for flowers ; allow
them to have their favorite trees ; teach
them to wandet; in the prettiest wood
lets ; show them where they can best
view the sunset ; rouse them in the
morning, not by the stern ' Time to
work, but with the enthusiastic "See
the beautiful sunrise !" Buy for them
pretty pictures, and encourage them to
decorate their room in his or her child
ish way. Give them an inch and they
will go a mile. Allow them tbe privilege
and they will make your home pleasant
and beautiful.
The Spanish Artist and the Last
SrjpPEB. A Spanish artist was once
employed to paint the "Last Supper."
It was his object to throw all the
sublimity of his art into the figure aud
countenance of the Lord Jesus ; but he
put on tbe table in the foreground some
chased cups, the workmauship of which
was exceedingly beautiful. When his
friends came to see the picture on the
easel, every one said, "What beautiful
oups I" "Ah," said he, "I have made
a mistake ; these cups divert the eyes
of the spectator from the Lord, to whom
1 wish to direct the attention of the
observer." And he forthwith took np
his brush and blotted them from the
canvas, that the strength and vigor of
the chief object might be prominently
seen and observed.
Thus all Christians should feel their
great study to be Christ's exaltation ;
and whatever is calculated to hinder
man from beholding Him, in all the
glory of His person and work, shonld
be removed ont ot the way ! "Uod
forbid that I should glory, save in the
cross of onr Lord Jesus Christ" Let
the sentiment of Paul be ours.
Thk Raven and ths Doo. "Oh what
a pretty picture I" Grace. Willie and
Joeie pressed close to their mother with
sparkling eyes and eager tones. She
held in her hand a beautiful engraving
by Harrison Weir ; a raven, with a bone
in his beak, stood beside a large dog
whose leg was bandaged, The bird
seemed offering the bone, and the dog
bending his head to take it with plea
sure, of course, but no surprise, as if
this were an e very-day occurrence.
"Is there a story about it, mother?
asked the children in a breath. "Did a
bird ever do that, really ?"
''Yei ; I will tell yoa about it : The
dog and a pet raven were kept at an inn,
in Hungerford, England. The dog was
accidentally run over, and his It-g se
verely injured. It was bound up care
fully, the raven watching the process.
No one thought of this at the time, but
the bird made a constant practice of
bringing bones to the dog while he lay
helpless on his bed in the stable.
One night the door was accidentally
shut and the faithful raven picked a
hole in it, and thus gained admittance
to minister to his friend
Bad Bargains. Once a Sabbath
school tetchor remarked that he who
buys the truth makes a good bargain,
and inquired if any scholar recollected
an instance in Scripture of a bad bar
gain. "I do," replied a boy ; "Esau
made a bad bargain wben he sold his
birthright for a mess of pottage." A
second said : "Judas made a bad bar
gain when he sold his Lord for thirty
pieces of silver." A third boy observed,
"Jesus tells us that he makes a bad
bargain, who, to gain the whole world,
loees his own souL"
Knana.
A correspondent says: "Dnsseldorf
1. .:n Kv !,.. ...t
IB BlUl iririCOCUlCU VJ ni.iro V. lim lll.rt.
celebrated artists living. Ludwig
Knaus, the great genre painter, lives
here; Knaus, who is to painting what
Dickens is to literature. It is said of
him that not having many advance
orders during the war of 1870, he occu
pied much of bis time in frescoing the
dining-room of his house. A picture
aeaier coming iu mv .
c.7.1 1 ,1V.... 1. 1 .. ...11
paintings, cant ue, iuiu uui-un
.Kaa Ttiotrtfoa if iiitiA AHA WPTY til fHvP
yon 20,000 thaler for tliera f 'No,'
saiii ivuauH, jwRiiiij, ... ,.
them under 60,000 thalers.' 'Agreed; I
will take them at that price T cried the
dealer. Sure enough, the next day
men came and carefully removed the
paintings, and Knaus got 60,000 thalers
lor the work of his leisure hours."
"Varieties.
An enemy's sword is apt to be wall
sharnened
Cupid is not blind, but he binds the
eyes of this votaries.
We may soar as high as we can, but
we will never touch the stars.
Toast at a railway dinner: "Oar
Mother, industrious tenders, though
they often misplaced the switch."
Human life is a gloomy chamber, in
which the images of the other world
shine the brishter. tha dffAriAP it ia
darkened.
Ont of the 47S1 bills introduced ia
both houo of Congress last session,
less than 1000 passed, and of these over
500 were privats or pension bills.
A man ont in Boston, in his hurry to
assist a faintiag lady, got a bottle of
mucilage instead of camphor, and
bathed her face with it She was a
good deal stuck up with his attention.
The new capital bniluing at Hartford.
Conn., is to cost i. 300, 000. Of this
sum the State has appropriated $1,000,
000, and will appropriate $300,000
more, whilst Hartford itself has given
$500,000.
The larmnt room in tTia'wnrM nnrtav
a sinffle roof, nohroknn hv nillara nr
other obstructions, is at St Peterburg
in nusma, ana is bou leet wide. It is,
used for military displays iu rough
weather, and can be converted into a
ballroom at night
As one sensibly remark : Making a
profession of religions is like enlisting
in the army. It is very easily done, and
is at the most only a promise. Whether
tne promise is kept depends on how the
recruit behaves ; whether he endures
hardships as a good soldier ; and tight
bravely, and follows wherever his cap
tain leads.
A new cafe chantant has inst been
opened in Paris on the Sine,right in the
middle of the river, close to the Bths
Henri IV. Xou go down to it hy steps,
placed at the back of Henri IV statue,
on the Pont-Neuf. The idea is cool, at
all events ; and at night not oalv tbe
cafe itself is crowded, bnt the bridge
parapets are filled with people trying to
catch a sight or sound of the spectacle
below.
If any one wants proof that dunces
can be taught to read and write, we
commenced to the following extract
from a letter to the Athensum : Permit
me to suggest that an edition of
Dickens' words should be brought out
in classical English. The words used
in tbe author's works are extremely dis
agreeable to read. I think that the
language of the lower orders ought
never to appear iu print"
It may not be generally known that
in Ontario, on and after the 1st of July
next ensuing the present system of
issuing marriage licenses, under the
authority of the Governor General will
cease. Fram that date all licenses, or
certificates, to marry will issue from
the Lienteuant-Govenor or Provincial
Secretary. It shonld also be under
stood that the fee for the license is to
be reduced from six dollars, the present
charge, to two dollars. It is expected
that the names of the new license issu
ers will soon be pnblihed by authority.
Some specimens of English laces were
shown at the South Kensington Ex
hibition this year, the thread of which
cost 160 per pound. Much of this
thread had to be wasted, not being suffi
ciently perfect The threads of these
and other laces are so attenuated that
the slightest motion in the air foils the
worker, and even when this is imper
ceptible, a north wind has the same
effect. So gossamer like are some of
tbe filaments that the separate threads
are almost undistingnishable to the
naked eye unless backed by color.
"Woven of many threads." There are
two ladies living in Tennessee about
whom there is quite a romance, though
they have never met aud personally are
strangers to each other. In their girl
hood they were both engaged to a
certain younggentleman, though neither
was aware of the other's engagement
Simultaneously they discarded him to
affiance themselves to another gentle
man, who wa also discarded by each,
both thinking he was coquetting with
the other. One of them finally married
a gentleman to whom the other had
been engaged before she met either of
the gentlemen above referred to.
A scientific jonrnal very truly says ;
"It is the commonly received notion
that kaM study is the unhealthy element
of a college life. But from the tables
of Harvard University, collected by
Prof. Pierce from the last triennial
catalogue, it is clearly demonstrated
that the excess of death for the first ten
years after graduation is found in that
portion of each class of inferior scholar
ship. Dissipation is a sure destroyer,
and every young man who follows it is
as the early flower exposed to untimely
frost lliuse who have been inveigled
iu the path of vice are named Legion.
A few honra' sleep each night, high
living and plenty of 'smashes,' make
war with every function of the body.
Tbe brain, the heart, the lungs, the
liver, the spine, the limbs, the bones,
the flesh, every part and faculty over
tasked and weakened by the terrifio
energy of passion loosened from re
straint, until, like a dilapidated man
sion, the 'earthly house of this taberna
cle' falls into ruinous decay."
A letter from Mrs. Davey, widow of
the doctor who attended the father of
Charles Dickens on his death bed,
throws a new light upon the character
of the novelist, which will serve to do
away to a considerable extent with
much of the shadow cast upon his
memory by the biography of his
egotistical friend. Mr. John Dickens
was a man of ungovernable temper.
The resemblance to Micawber was very
slight Mrs. Dickens, the mother of
Charles, was a little woman, who had
been very nice looking. She possessed
an extraordinary sense of the ludicrous,
and her powers of imitation were un
usual. She took in the inventory of a
room at a glance, and anything ont of
pltce or ridiculous she would describe in
the quaintest manner. She had also a fine
vein of pathos, and could bring tears to
the eyes oi her listeners when narrating
some sad event It can thus be seen
whence Dickens inherited his genius.
Charles was decidedly fond of her, and
in the midst of their poverty and sorrow
he ever provided for her wants. When
his father died he took her in his arms,
and told her that she must relv upon
him for the future. He sent Dr. Davey
a magnificent silver snuff box, in taken
of his gratitude for the care of his
father. The old lady was very fond of
her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Charles, and
believed that there was not another
woman in England so well suited to her
son. Old Mrs. Dickens died in 1863.
She sleeps by her husband in Highgate
cemetery.