Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, March 16, 1873, Page 5

" things THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: LONDON, pr. Gladstone and the Irish TUniversity Q.p.esf.iun. AField=Night in the House of Com- mons. pistinguished Auditors--A Threce Hours’ Speech by the Premier. From Our Own Correspondent. Lospoy, Feb. 15, 1673, Punch, this weelk, has one of those cartoons which, from time to time, put very happily, in well-drawn pictures, the political situstion of thohour. Mr. Gladstone is pounding along on the back of a large Irish hunter, rapidly ap- prosching & heavy wall, on which are the words, “ Irish University Education.” In ‘his rear aro ‘other high fences which he Las slreadyleaped,— %The Irieh Church” and “The Irith Land Question.” Mr. Gladstono has his animal well 4nhend, and is looking into the distance with a resolato eys. “Will Ho Clear 1t?" The resder who goes by the cartoon is inclined to think that he will. Thore ia wonderful power in the frame of the steople-chaser, and the ridar's countenance expresscaa belief that he's safe. But THE BITUATION IS CRITICAL. Can a Protestant Administration govern a Roman Catholic country by Protestant ideas,—8 Romsn Catholic country, too, which is Ultra~ montane to the core ? All over Europe wo sco the governments ot war with the Catholic theory. Tho dogma of Papal infsliibility strengthens that dangerous state within the state which hag slways been a troublo to governors. The contest is waged by means of strict legislation, by ex- pulsion, by forfeituro of ccclesiastical property. England alone is on tho other tack. This Pro- testant Ministry draws towards the church with gifts, with concessions, with fair words and en- ticing smiles. * Irclandis withont University education becauso sho won't take it as we like “to have it snys the Premior. “Is she to go on without culture; or are we to accept the position, and provide that sho mey receive tlio higher education in her own way?” That his s “her own way” is not £0 clear as yet; we must wait until the hierarchy and the Papal Zeaders have spoken ; but the object of the Gov- ernment is ss T have said. The priests would infinitely profer the direct endowment of their, own colleges, and, though that is impracticable, » cleax way is now suggested by which their sta- onts may come out of their training-places and get emoluments in competition with the rest of the world. 3 4 FTELD-NIGHT. The Duke of Cambridge generally comes dovn “to the House of Commons on mights of great debate. Hesitsin the centro of the front gal- lory, opposite the Treasury bench, and looks down on Mr. Gladstone with a face that does not ‘bespeak unbounded trust. The Premier is to tho Commander-in-Chief evidently *‘a dangerons “person,"—one, perbaps, whom bo would like to dispose of by the summary process of -court- martial. Not menyyears ago, when M. Disrneli was attacking Mr. Gladstone, und sccusing him volutionary designs, the Duko so far forgot fi:;e{'xl o520 jorm in. fo k0Tt of cuplause which the Conservafives raiced. He lfstoned to-nighy with an sir of dissent. Bui ho is subject to the ciril power, and Mz. Glzdstone hos already cansed him toswallow some disagreeable boluses. ‘He detested the abolition of the nso of commussions in the army, but he had to choose between accepting it end ceasiog to command tho national forces. Iis faco is red and busly, 2nd tho fringes of white hair recall the photo- grayhs of the Emperor of Gemmany. A choleric Dature,—one given to strong oaths, and careless | of puntilio,—~tho Duke, nevertheless, is not un- popular. Ho never stoms the will of tho coun- fry, and, with the fund of enobbery thero is in 4he British people, it is 50 casy for a Royal Duko 1o keep ol o tha public eve. On the Duke's lefi are a batch of Peers,—most of them Cabinet Ministers,—drawn to tze Com- ‘mons by the magic of Mr. Gladstore’s cloguence; nd, despite the revolition in the law which the new Lord Chancellor iz defailing in their own chamber, Forl Gronville i3 o delightful lictener. He is o polite o man that his very zottitude pays you a compliment. Ho has s wa) of throwing his arms over the front rail, an resting bis chin upon the top, which is really a fiottering sight to the gentleman who is &peak- Bishop Wilberforce — tho _* saporaceous” rolato €0 kpown to fame—shs between tho Baand the Dake of Argyll Tho Bishop has jost some of that smoothuees of face which we zescciate with bim. Either ege or caro has given him a sterner look. : The Duke of Argyll, with hia bright-red hair refully brashed rom his forehesd, is still the intellcetual " young men of tho Mechanics' In- gtitute. He is in evening drees, and wears a hugo White necktie,—eo largo 8 one that it catchos ttention. ¢ 3 Pfince Christian, ‘who is on the Duke's right tand, is a moentity-in Eng nira. Ho ) 0 ‘ma-ried one of .the Queen's deughters, and Lie lives iere; but he rarely quits the family circle, ehind tho gallery in which these distinguished isitors are itting, are long rows of strangers,of lesian origin,—the Irish Bishop and priest be- ing conspicucus among them. The eide e- Yies are oceapied by memberz, snd no bench be- lowis unfilled. ‘G THE HOUSS. 3ir. Gledstono and 3is, Diseaelf, unlike in s many things, are unlike, too, in their manner of nisics tha House, Mr.' Gladstona usually alips in with 2 mE\i step, from behind the Bponker's’ cheir. Looking suddenly st -the front bench, you sco him there. Mr. Disracli , takes an opposite conrse. enters by the door ich is farthest from his seat. On s field-night he ordinarily stays away until the chamber is full and curious. Bhortly bofore 5 o'clock, he saunters in,—his coat tmbuttoned and thrown back, one hend holding out his hat somo littlo way off, his step plow and mincing, and his features wearing a stolid or indiffercnt. expression. Strangers whisper, There’s Dizzy " “ Where?” ¢ Why, just going up the floor to his seat.” Oh! I sos inim. Dear me! eo it is.” -Doos he know these and like them ?. Mr, Gladstone is ambi- tious, and loves power &nd fame; but I don't ink he cares a straw for little demonstrations of this sort. ‘Bt it is time we bad reachod GLADSTONE'S 6FEECIL . . Standing at the table, waiting. for the cheers }o eubside, Mr. Gladstone looks capable, if 80 minded, of prodigious effort. Despite his air of patience—the tips of his fingers touching the able, sharply-cut_head turned towards the farthest ond of tho House,—ho gives one tho impression . that, et a word, he can lot the thun- Jers By from his band. To-night there is to be no storm, no lightning, or whirlwind. The en- Geavor is to bo conciliatery, toinform and con- ce.. > Vi opens with harmony. It is sweetto hoar the hens of the British Government aver, with- out fear of contradiction, in tho presence of the representatives of Iteland, that, in that cox\;nh-y, industry - ig - flourishing, that the. wealth * of ' the: community. .. at large rapidly increases. Pleasant, £0o, to know that order is_respected ; that ordinary crime is less than'in' England ; that agravion crime has greatly diminielcd ; and that; in 1872, there was not in'the whole of Iréland, one troasonable offense. _- Poor John 3hteh Stephens, 0'Dozovan Rossa, and the rest. it be that Four vocation is gone ? ~ Mr. Gladstone certainly locs his ntmost to-night to gratify his fellow- subjects. -He praises their patriotism ; he al- ludes in . soft notes to their pastwrongs;he avows their love of cnltnro.. It is the misckic? that, while be is saying these things, thelong rows of Tories sit silently scowling and glower- ing. The Liberals- like this eentiment very well,.bub they want to sed what it leads up fo. “Tho ‘Conservatives, at:ono mo- ‘ment, Ses an oponing, and in thoy rush noisily. ¢ Sir,” gaid Mr. Gladstone, there is aloveof Jetters in Ircland. Ireland is ‘not barbarous in mind. She may say for herrelf— : * + Neo sum adeo informis : nupre me in Litore vidi. . Cum placidum ventis stabst mare.”. - _ - You have only to give her a tranguil ees in hich to mirror horself.” LA * Hero there was & burst of ironiczl cheering, Mr. Newdegate saw the chatcs, and hid sarcastic “ Hear! Hear !" roused the rost. “The. Honor- sble memb&l’fi oém’ _?Iofigl anchhzr; {:Dl;ad Toun i with £uCCess, an ok a pinnl?’ B eond in the decided way which evincos matisfaction. know You mnst that in the theo of the Tories Mr. Gladstone is & aistarbor of the peace, Ire land would be guist enough if he would let her alouc. It is ho who lashes the waves, nd renders that “ tranquil sea” impossible. But this was a slight affair. As & whole, the speech was allowed to be, considering the magnitude and complexity of the details dealt with, a marvel of clear statement. Is there any ono else in Parlisment (Mr. Bright being awsy) who could hold an audience in this fashion for throe hours? BSuch work cznnot be done by a man of Mr. Gladstone's age without con- siderable effort and cousequent exhaustion. Mr, Gladstone exerts himsclf greatly on these lond- ing occasions. Ho emphasizes every other seatence, and it has always scemed 2 singular thing to.me that o much emphusis does not tire the listener. He addresses each part of tho crowded ber in guccession. back is often turned upon the front Opposition bencl, £nd ho explains his theme to thoso who sit im- medintely behind him. Not a single past of tho xoom is left unnoticed. Throughout most of the three hours, he is slowly moving round, staying ‘perbaps ten minutes in each posilion. He 5t00ps moro than bodid, and his hairs oo thin and gray ‘but his splondid Voice is unharmed by time. Ho was indepondent of notes,—only turningto them when there wero figures fo quote. As he proached the close, ho ceased to turn from sido toside. He drew his figure togothor, and threw into his tono and manuerzll his unspent strength and wearing : We, sir (he eaid], have done our best, We have not spared Isbor and spplicatiop in thoe preparation of this certainly complicated, and, I enture 0 hope, compre- bensivéplan. We havesought to provide a complete remedy for what wo thought, and_for what we Lave long merked and held up o ‘public attention 2s, a pal- ble grievance,—a grievance of conscience. Bui we ve not thought that, in removing that griev- ance, we were discharging elther tho whole or the main part of our duty. ILisone thingto clear away obstructions from the ground ; it is another fo raise the fabric, And the fabric which we seok to raee 13 8 eubstantive, organized eystem, under which all the Bons of Irelend, be their professions, be their optnions, what they may, may freely meet n hefr own_ancfent, noblo, historic University for tho advancement of learning in tho country. Ya ask tho House mot to embark upon & plan which can Lo Qescribed =8 one of ~ mers innovation. We zsk you o give Lo Ireland that which has been long desired, which has been often attsmpted, but which has never been done ; and we ask you to give to Ire- 1and, founding yourself upon the principle on which Jou have already ncted in the Universities of England. e commit the plan to the prudence and tho patriot ism of this House, which wa havo 80 often expericnced, and in which {he country places, as we all know, on entiro confidence. I will not lay stress upon the evils which will flow from fts failure, from its rejec- tion, in prolonging and ambittering the controversies which have for too mony years boen suffered to.exist, 1 would rather dwell on 3 more pleasingprospect,— upon my hope, even upon my belief, than this ¥ inits essential features, may meet with the sppro of the Houso and of the country, At any rate, I sm convinced hat, i it be your plessure toadopt it, you will by ita means cnabls Irishmen to raise their country toa helght in the spheroof human culture which will bo worthy of tho geuius of the poople, and one which may, perhaps, emulate thoso oldest, and possibly best, traditions of Irish history upon which that country atill fondly awelis, The Right Honorable gentleman resumed his 8seat amid lond cheers. WILL IT ANSWER? That is the question which public men, pro- fessors, preachers, journalists, are trring to decide, to-dny. He must be o, man who is very goui(iva, oven yot. But there are certain considerations which may be offered. Purcly denominntional,—which, in Ircland, means Roman Catholic,—colleges are to be epecially represented in the Council of the new Univer- &ity ; and, out of respect to Catholics, modern histary and mora! plilosophy ate o be struckont of the teaching of the University. Trinity Col- lege will continue to draw the Protestant stu- dents, and the Catholic colleges the Catholics, while the teaching provided st tho Na- ticnal University for the unattached students will be essentially different from that of tho EngliehjUniversitics. Geology, natural bistory, political economy, all will be tanght (L foor) in an emasculated way. Dr. Newman has elzborately shown that every morsel of educa- tion must bo parmeated by the teaching of the charch. The end may be the re-estnblishment by the Btato, and by means of the endowment of a Protestant Univarsity, of & great system for conveying Romanized lulmxn%. The intercats of triio calturo are scarcely safe with the system contained in Mr. Gladstone's gresent proposals, and o pation trained upon them—some of us tlink—might, in the end, bo in s worse stato than when without a University at all. THE FOUNDLINGS’ HONE. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: S I would liko to call the attention of the chiurches of thiscity to the fact that there fss very praiseworthy institution in our midst, ealied the Foundlings' Homo, and that it is ot present in a very enfeobled financial condition. By its Iest report, I notice there aro fiftylittle forsaken onesin ita charge, and moro constantly arriving; and, for this chanity, thero was only 941995 ro- ceivod during tho 1ast month, to meet the neces- exponses of service, fool, fucl, ges, rent of building, and clothing not donated I would offoras & suggestion that the smount collected in the various churches of our city in aid of tho sufferers by the Boston firc, and now unappro- pristed, bo donated to this charitable object; and, where no such fund exists, let a grand col- lection be taken, that the Home may bo freed from debt, and be enabled to rapidly procced withits new building. “When my father and my mother forsakeme, then tho Lord will take me up.” A Frexp. CHICAGO, March 11, 1873. v R THE SALARY-STEAL. Uncle Sam had s roost for his hens, Where they roosted by thousands and tens, The notton to rob it was Ben's. “ Hired men of my uncle, I feel,” d Ben, in 8 solemn appeal, “Low wages do tempt ns to steal.™ Tho force of this moralides . Wes 80 mighty and powerful, you seg, Nt to do it they couldn’t egree. B0 the hearties, they gave Ben a boost, And bia fingers they suddenly noosed Two pullets per man from the roost. Uncle Sam 15 now wal the i R Go home with 3 foul in his pot. —Elizur Wright, in the Sprinaficld Republican. Baitiabido ki An 1linols GirDs Success as o Farmer =eefFrom the Seminary to the Corn= field. From the Prairle Farmer. We lately had the pleasure of ‘ intorviewing ™ s Miss A., of Illinois, Who, for some years past, has been engaged in carrying on a farm of 120 acres. Hor father died, leaving a widow, oand, we_be- Tieve, two daughters and & boy, of whom Mies A. was the eldest, and the boy s lad of ten ora dozen years old. She found health of her mother, who was endeavoring to mansge the -form with hired help, failing, and concluding thot she would rather keep her mother than get an education, she Jeft the semi~ nary in 1863 and commenced farming. The farm at that time consisted of eighty acres of the homo farm, sbout half of which wis in cultiva~ tion; and at alittle distance were forty acres more, all in cultivation. The home farm had a rotty good house, but the bsrn had recentl Ecen burned and the fences were mnot good. Twelve acres had been planted.to apples of ood varieties, She had one horse, and got the oun of another from a friend, who also aids and is sided in tnm by lending implements, etc. Bhe has now & good team of her own raising, besides » horso that does dutyin the marke wagon. o B she went to work, with the aid of her little ‘brother, and, to some extent, of her mother and sister, who £0ok c.lmr%e of’the housekecping. She léernad to do nearly all kinds of work. - She does notfi\;‘lnw much; but ehe can do it. She took out bi to one hundred stumps of trees ono year with the spado and ax, and at the E2mo time, assisting her brother, who was dniling wheat. She bound and shockod wheat, and can drive team well. She can use the ax %reuy well 5 formerly, sho could chop botter than her brother, but now he chops as well na she caa herself, #nd sho” does lees of it. She wears & gymnastic suit when at_home and at work, a broad-brimmed hat, gloves, and boots made to order. Bho wishes to look as well asother girls, and thus protects herself from the exposure re- gmlting from out-door Iabor. She likes the open sir life and out-door work, and is healthy and strong. g 1 Most of the home farm s cultivatod in. corn, though -she has eight acres in grass nnd twelve m orchard, § winter wheatin 1872. It was & fine crap, but gke lost from thres to five acros Trom the failure of themnan sho hed engaged to cat if in fime. Eren then, with.scarce aud inefiicient Iabor, by {hat noble class of men that ave always willing ta take - advantage of those who catnot ‘“IE themsolyes, it cost her 280 to hervest and thres the wheat. -Yet she got 450 bushels of wheet, oighing 62 pounds to the bushel The young orchstdiamhuaod donl of fruitin 1872, and Sho sold 100 barrels of sumimer applos, o d has 150 bushels of apples now ‘in the. cellar. Bhe Foolk Tiost of the spples to market. herself, sell- ing some of them 2s low as 75 conts per barrel, and some a8 high as 81, She raised: twenty-threo acres of* ROR A Search for an American Consul, Vhen Found, Made Note of ; with Various Facts Pertaining to Our Eagle Ahroad. Correspondence of The Chfcago Tribune. Toxe, Feb, 15,1873, Havo you of Tne TRIBUNE space for & narra- tive of & few of the woes of Americans abroad ? They are fresh in my mind, and on the tongues of 2ll my countrymen I meet, especially the slovenly, slouchy, disgraccful Consular system of our free and enlightencd nation, which is worthy of being adequztely represented, should pay for being proporly represented, and yet is 80 universally misropresented, to the vexation and loss of our citizens on their travels. The whole ssatem is wrong ; and, how it works, a few hnaty linos will show you. Having recent pressing occa- sion for tho services of our American Consul in Rome, I set ont to find him, with all the gush- ing confidonce of o child of Amorica, sure that tho meanest dealer in the city of the Ceears would know the abode of our Eagle and his local kespers. My Loart wont out in advance towards that Cousul. I looked upon him 2s our nation in one volumo, eaw in bim the condonsod power of the Executive, Legisltive, Military, and Naval functions of my native land. Alas! Iwasan *‘Innocent Abroad.” Should I describo my scarch after him, you might think it & good chepter on American Con- sulships. I first sent to our Minister, and asked, ““Who is our Consul, and where shall I find him?” The answer came, “AMr. Calvi is the Consal, and yon may lexrn where he is, at tho Logation.” As I always sce Mr. Mareh at his own house, T do not kuow where the Loga- tion is. Bo I went to Hooker'’s Bank and inquired. They said I should find it at 81 via Vittoria, o small street running from tho Babuino to the Corso. 1 went thero, and, sfter looking In vain for tho Bird of Freedom, and asconding threo dirty flights of stairs, I found a card nailed toa. door, with the mame, © Calvi, United Statea Consul,” on it. I rang, but tho bell was broken; I knocked, but tho knocking brought no one, Looking closer at the card, I saw written in pencil, ‘101 vis Allessandrina.” So, 1 thought, as there was evidently no one here, tho wholo affair must have been removed. I went £o tho vis Allessandrina, a long way off, be- 3ond Trafan's Form uad, finding 101, T ont through tho same process, but saw no name of Calvi or Consul on the varions doors. I con- tinued my ascent even to tho ultimo piano, and then rang and inquired. ** Mr. Calvi lives here, and you can como back at 6 o'clock snd see him.” *But Ican’t come at 5 o'clock, and I want to seo him now,” said I, with that emphasis which marks the free citizen of the United Btates. A shrug of the shoulders was the snswer, - “ But whore does he do his busiaess ?"" ‘At 81 via Vittoria.” Bo back to via Vittoria I turned, aud, again_finding the Calvidoor unre- sponsive, I weked the cchoes of othor bells znd knockers, tilla woman in a dirty apron ap- carod. *Where is Signor Calvi, tho Americau onsul?" *‘ He is here only from 10 till2.” It was now about half-past 2, and it could lLave been scarcoly 2 whon I was first thicre. Thus I bad to wait till the next day. The next time, I wont at 1 o'clock, and found the door open, the Englo on the floor, and Cal at his desk. “ Arc you the American Consul ? 4Yes,—no,—yes, L am Acting Consul.” ¢ Where is the Consul?” *In London, and very ill.” “Are you capace todo the work of Consul # T guppose 50, a3 there i8 no ono else to do it.” Accordingly I signed the paper, or he wrote and affixed the certificate, opeued 3 bureau drawer, and took out the seal of the consulate, and madoe all right. For thisI paid 12 francs, and paid another tribute in lisiemngio the outpouring of tha woes of this official. He bemoaned himself that he had such a small room,—not worth put- ting the Eagle cn. He had written to the Amer- ican Govornment, asking tobe allowed €30 a month to puy expenses, and that Government ave him licemse to fpend $12. He had cen ndvised to lire & wagon and persmbulate the strects, and. do the Consuls business in that way. I will not betray tho name of the humorist who gavo that advice. But wo will stop joking on so serions a subject. Here is a great and mighty nation ropresented in the shabbiest manner in "the principal city of Southern Europe, where, perhaps, 5,000 Ameri- cans pass through in & geason, many of whom have somo business to do requiring a _Consul. This office has also been lately erected into that of Consul General. ‘Wounld it not be worth our Government’s while—I ask for information—to select a decent office, and keep it permsnently for tho business to bo done in, irrespective of changes in the person of the Consul ? - There is, perhaps, no remedy possible for- these incessan changes, for the Consul is usually as impatient to escapo from his post a8 the innocent mnew- comer i eaicl!r to occupy i, bohevingEil to be a pogition of dignity and omotument. He is most often an artist, or » man who fancies himself one, and i8 naturally desirons to visit Italy, about which he is curious, at the public expense. He arrives; finds & Vice-Consul, who knows at least moro about the business than be himsolf knows; leavea it to him to attend to; copies a pictura or two, or attempts to modl a statue; fails to take » place as on artist; becomes homegiok; is _dis- gusted with theee I-taliane, and resigns, withcut ceremony. I do not know what the emoluments of this Consulship may be, but probably they do not_smount to moro than psys for 8 very poor office and s very chesp working Consul ; 80 that neither honor nor interest diapoges onr Consul to remain after he feels tired of his post. An American in Venice, inquiring for the Con- sul, wes introduced to him, and proposed to have some business attended to. “But Ican donomore business; I have finished my pic- ture, have deposited ths archives and the seal with the banker, and now I'm off.” If the Consul is a man of fortunc, ho takes his opportunity to purchase curiosmties, works of ary carved furniture, and, having completed his collection, ho, too, is off. It is evident that no man capable of taiing rank s an artist can also be Consul. It would be imposaible for such aoneto give even the littlo time necessary for superintending this department. - 1t is also evi- dent that, after many years of such manage-~ ‘ment, the honor that ot;ll',i'ht to attach to a place of trust under a powerful government, hos sunk to nothing, and, a8 if this were not enough, and that &, positive disgraco might attach toif, an American Consul 1n Rome, not long since, went out to fight the Garibaldians, asa volunteer in the Tapal service, cud without even the poor. cxcuso of being s Papist. Tho odium attached to the setion of this oficial was 8o great amony the Roman people that Americens were advise not to display tfieir flags, lest that honored sym- bol should attract insult and danger to them., ‘And mow one word about Vice-Consula; they usually kmow how to get through the business of the office, but mostly conceited and ignorant. Conceited, wuse they know more tfia thoir chiefs ; and ignorant, because thoy have little opportunity of lesming snything boyond & narrow routine. Accordingly, when' any case beyond routine occurs, they canuot elo the American citizen, but can hinder him very much in tho sbsence of a helpfnl chief. Thare is one American Vice-Consul who shonld: be exempted from this consure, 0 Masi, Vice-Consul at Leghorn, has for many years done all the business of that office, and in an_efficient manner. He is a man admirably qualifled to fill the office of Consul, being of excellent business hsbits, and faomiliar with the official work ; though an Italian, he speaks and writes English partéctly ; and there is 0o reason why ho sbould not have the post, uc:fiw thatheis not an Ameri- oo citizon: o does all the work of the offica. The Consul, who is of course always an Ameri- can citizen, Teceives the emolument, and goes and comes st his pleasure, really doing no work for his. money, but sitting in .the office. This sceis an injustice, and, ‘if it were possible to remedy it, oar Government would gain & useful sod efficient servant in a sertice where such are rare. : 1 am told that President Grant recommends a' revision of the whole system of Consulates, if anything so hopelessly inefficient deserves to be called » system ; and I would reepectfully sug- gest that, -if some sort of Weight could be s Fachod to the Jeg of the Consul, to.keep him from straying, and make him stop in the offico till he has learned the busincss, and then keep him thero long enough to pay for the voyage 2nd the learning, so_that wo might at 1ast have a f2i yeara of knowing, perhaps it would bo an improvement. A &nzrs ABROAD. ADDENDT. £ To the Editor of The Chicago Tribunc:’ Sim: Ihad occasion to send to the writer of tho above letter for an _affidarit to a legal docu- ment, and, after all the trouble which is do- scribed, wonld you believo that the Consnl attached to it & certificate of acknowledgment, instead of that of_an affidevit; which, if I min- take not, will render it necessary to send it back to Rome for a proper document, causing a vex- atious delsy of proceedings ? Yours, W. H. CLazke, 570 North Dearborn sireet. Ca1caco, Alarch 11, 1873, “LARS.” Bayard Taylor’s New Poem. Bayard Taylor bas written a new poem, which ho calls * Lars: s Pastoral of Norway." Its scenes aro Ieid in Norway snd Pennsylvanis, and its characters illustrate the wild, chivalric, Berserker pirit of the Northman, and the oppo- sita genins of the gentle pilgrims of the Schuyl- kill. Asatributeto the sweet exemplification of this ¢ magnanimous might of meeknoss,” which Mr. Whittier haa given in his life and his writings, especially in his last beantiful pocm, “Tho Pennsylvania Pilgrim,” Bayard Taylor dedicates ‘* Lara” to Mr. Whittier in these lines: Through many years my heart goes back, Through checkerad yearu of lors and gain, To that fzir landmark on its track, When firet baside the Merrimack, Upon thy cottage-roof I heard the Autumn rain, A hand that welcomed and that cheered. To one nnknown didst thou extend ; Thon gavest hope to Song that feared But now, by Time and Faith endeared, X claim the sacred right to call the Poet, Friand ! ‘However Life tho stream may stain, From thy purc fountain drank my youth The eimple creed, he faith humsno in Good that nover can beslatn, Tho prager for faward Ligl, o Search for outmaxd ruf Liko thee, I aco st last prevall ‘The leeploss soul thiat looks above; 1 hear, far off, the hymns that hail The Vietor, dad in heavenly mail, Whose only weapora aro the eyes sud Yoice of Love! T tisale vt thy brighiae P T 'o ® wit ter 13 Soime bali of peace and purty, - In them, may faintly breathe of thee s Ty And take the grateful love, wherein I hide thy praiset The story begins oa the Sabbath sun rises from behind tho wintry peaks of Justedal, and showers his boams on Ulvik's cottages, in ono of which fair Brits, glonsy as mating bird," “yiolda o tho day,” and comes out, Last of all, among the maidens, met To dip fresh faces in the chilly Youst, | And amoothian braids of elesp-entangled hatr. Thoy go, a lively group of Sundayed lads and lassies, to roam the fields, climb the stubborn fell, or boat upon the flord. In the company aro Lars and Per, who each love Brita: A berdsman, woodmsn, hunter, Lars was strong, et silent from his life upon the hills. Dencath dark lashes glesmed his darker eyes Like mountain-tarns that take their changeless huo From shadows of the pine: in all his waya He shiowed that quiet of the upper world A breath can turm {0 tempest, and the force Of rooted firs that wlowly split the stone. But Per was goy with laughter of the seas Which were his home: the billow breaking blua 0On the Norwegian skerries flashed o Within his sunbright eyea: and in his tongue, Sct to the louder, Zuarrer koy it learned In hum of rigging, roar of wind and tide, The rhythm of ocean and {ia willfni chazge Allured all bearts a5 ocean lures the lznd. Now which, this daybreak with his yellow locks, Or yonder fwilight, calm, mysterious, filied With protise of ita stars, shall turn the mind Of tho light maiden who is nedthor fain . To win nor loss, since, were the other not, Then each were welcome 7—how shiould mald decide? For that the passion of the twain was marked, ‘And haply envied, and a watch was set, She wonld be strong : and, knowiug, seem as though She nothing knew, until occasion came To bid her choose, or teach her how fo choose. The rivalry of these lovers is fierce as the blasts of their native hills. One dsy, a8 all arc dancing to the sound of The fiddle-strings of Nils, 38 one by one They chirped and squeaked in dolorous complaint, Lars nd Brita woro * sweoping In the danco,” which bore very little resemblance to the mo- notonous and civilized waltz, if this be an ge- curato description. They Whirled and paused, as i¢ a mountain-gust Blew them er, tossed, and tore apart. And ever, when the wild refrain came round, Lars flung himself and stdewards turnod iu atr, et missed no beat of music when he fell. At this_trinmphal moment, Per, who had en- goged Brita for the dauce, ontered, and was of course angry enough to see that his presump- tuous rival bad usurped his place. He —— rudely thrust himself on Lars, “ Your place belongs o e, be honrsely cried,— “ Your place snd partner " “ Brita's freo to choose,” Baid Lars, * and may be bidden; but this floor 1s not your deck, nor are you captain mine: 1 think your throat has made your head forget.” Lars spake the truth that most exasperates : His words were oil on flame, snd Per resolved, Bo swayed by reckless anger, to defy Then, once, and wholly, *“ or not,” said he, #You know what right I mean : you stand where X Allow yon not : I warn you off the field {" Lars tarned to : ¢ Doea for you?" Bhe shook hor head, but what with shame znd fear. Baid nothing : “ We have danced our ceter-dance,” He further spake, * and now I go : when next We meet at feast, I claim another such.” “ Ay, claim i, claim 1 Per shouted ; but you'll firet Try knives with me, for blood shall Fun between Your words and will : where you go I shall be.” “Bobeit : bld your mother bring your shiroud 1" Lars auswered ; and he left the marrisge house. Lars killn Per, is cursed by Britan, and flees in remorse and despair over the scss, until he Teaches America, and then, ~——where, upon her bill, foir Wilmiogton Looks to the river over marshy meads, . Ho eaw the low brick church, with stunted tower, S Baread the geiay To. theme thn ncieat st An 0 gato: 101 there, tho ancieat stanes Bore Norland names and dear, familiar words] 1t seemed the dead » comfort spake: Lo read, Thrusting the nettles and the vines seide, And softly wept: be know not why he wapt, But here yos something in the strange new land “That made s home, though growing out of graves. He wanders along the roadside, and, as he goos, moots. Ruth, who is 0 tam Lin Besthen, rsorker spirit, Chriatianize him, lesd him back to Norway, and win for him forgiveness from Britn, and_from the relatives of Per, the aveng- ers of his blood. Rath sppeared to the North- ern eye of Lars a8 strange and heavenly an apparition as Malgherits to fierce Theodolf. in e beautiful tale told by the Baron de la Mott Fouque: ~——Xo servant-maid more plsin In her attire, yel, as £hio nearer drew, ‘Her stfll, swezt face, and pure, untroabled ees Bpake gentle blood. A browner dove she seemed, ‘Without the shifting iris of the neci, £ And when sho spake her volco was [f¥o s dovo's, Soft, even-toned, and sinking in the heart. Ruth leads him to_her father, and Lars be- comes & member of their family : And Ezra Mendenhall was just, and Rut Berenely patiant, sweetly calm 2na kind : 8o, month by month, the even dsys were born And died, the nights were drowned in desper rest, ‘And ficlda snd fences, streama and stately woods, Fashioned themselves to suit his newer life, Til ever faluter grew those other forms Of flord and fell, the high Hardanger range, And Romsdal’s teeth of snow. Yes, Brita's oyes And Per's hot face he learned to hold away, Bave when they vexed his belpless soul in . Ruth's gentlo besuty, day by dsy, heals:the rent made by Briat’s rejection and curse, Lars loves her, but again his unbappy fate makes his Iove his tempter. He has s rival, Aboer, a nej| h- bor, rigid in the sect, and rich. ~ Abmer's malice saruscn(‘es poor Lars, and one dsy drives him to lesperation : - A Ssbhath morn sasly apring Iy lovely on the land, ridge thiat o the barn's broad floor his knife, and, as he tarned the blsde . ‘T'his way and that, and with it turned his thought, ‘While musing if ’t were best to cover up o e by et T o cust, P T And shuddered as he held it nearer. *Blood, And doubtless human 1" spake a wiry voice, And Abmer Cloud bent down his head to look. A sound of waters filled the ears of = ‘And all his flesh grew chill : he said no word. “1 have thy history, now,” thought Abner Cloud, And 1n tho pallid silence read but fear; ili%\hnldnn ‘Thou -nlmmd‘:}::. 18 proper offsp of tho godless Who drank hvmm and guawod the very bones Of them'they elew. Thisis e instrument, And thou art hungering for its bloody uée. Bay, hast thon ove caten human fleah 17 ‘Then ol the landacape, house, and irees, and hills, - Beforo the eyoes of Lars, burned saddenly Iu crimson tire: the roaring of his ears Tecamo a thunder, and his throat was brass, Yet one wild pang of deadly foar of self Shot through his b ‘and with s mighty cry Of mingled age, resistance, &nd op; e flung his arms towards heaven, and hurled afar The fatal knife, -This eaw not Abver Clond: . - But death he saw within thoss dreadful eges, And turned xnd fed.” Behind him bounded Lars, The man czst off, the wild bezat ealy left, . - The primal savage, whois born ztew In every chfid. Not long had been-the r3ce, * Bt Eta Mendentull, spprosching, s The danger, swiftly thrast Mgg’: a e Iy And Lars, whose passion-blinded eyes him down. ‘Then deadly tnds lie dsshed at Abhers thfost, - . ut they were gras) : ear e Ty S Wit com ob12 e heard hes volce, aad atood. She knaw not what she said : _sbe only sas The wide aod glarings oyes suffused with blood, ‘The stiff-drawn lips that, parting, showed the teetl, And on tho templea overy standing vein That throbbed, dumb voices of destroying wrath. 'I_’ht soul that filled her told her what to do: Sto dropped his hands and softly laid her own Tpon his brow, then looked the devil down Withiu his eyes, tiil Lars was thers again, Rath and her father, wounded thongh he was, have no thought of vengennce. They seek ouly to save tho precious eoul + tl:at might be purged if once he saw the light.” They lend Lars to the meeting, and thero ho finda eternal poaca. Meanwhile the summer and ths harvest came, One ‘within the orchard, Ruth Gathered tho first sweet apples of tho year, That give such pleasuro by their pajnted cheeks And bealthy odor. Little breezes ehook The interwoven flecks of sun and shade, O'er nll the tufted carpet of the grass; The birds sang near her, and beyond the hedge, ‘Where stretched the oat-fleld broad along the hill, Wero harvest voices, broken wafla of sound, - That brought no words, Theu something made her start; She gazed 3ud waited : o'er tho thorry wall ZLarsleaped, or seemed to fly, and ran to her, His fotares troubled and. his hands outsireiched. 0, Rutli ™" o cried s “I pray thee, tako my Eands | This power I have, at last : I can refrain Till hielp be sought, the help tiut dwells in thee.” Bho took his hands, 2nd no0s, in Hssing palme, His violent pulses learned the beat of hers. Bweet warmth C'erspread his franie; L saw her face, And how the cheeks flushed and the eyelids fell Beneath hin gaze, and all at onca the truth Beat fant and cager in the palms of both. “ Tako not away,” he cried ; * now, nevormore, Thy hands | O Rath, my saviog angel, givo ‘Tuyself to me, and lef our Livea be ono & 1 cannot pare thea ; heart and sow alike Have neca of theq, and seem to cry aloud : * Lo faith and Jove =nd holincas ara ona 1 ' 7 Bat who uhall paint the beanty of Ler eyes When they unvailed, and softly clung o his, The whileche spako’s * I think I loved thee firat When uret I saw thee, sud I glve my life, In perfect trust and feith, to these ihy hands.” The opening lines of the third book, which be- gins their married life, aro very beautifal : Love's history, as Lifc's, is ended not By ruarriage : 'though the ignorant Paradise May then be lost, the world of knowledge waits, With ample oppartunities, to mould Young Eve and Adam intd wife and mzn, Bome grace of sentiment expires, yet hera Thie nobler pootry of Lifo begins 3 Tho squire is knigt, the novico fakes the vow, Old service falls, now powers and duties join, And (hat high Beauty, which ls crown of all No more » lightzome taid, with resses (req And mantls Hoating from the bkoru bavo, Confronts us now like holy Barbara, An Paima drew, or ahe, Our Lady, born On Milcs, typo of perfoct growth and pure, We neod not follow tho poct further. The story recches its climax in the return of Lars, sceompanied by Ruth, fo Norwsy, whoto he offars his life 25 an atonoment for tho murder of Per. His magnanimity disarms Thorsten, Per's brother, and Lo cramot strike the avenging blow. The crowd who had come tc witness and approve the vengoance fall away, Except one woman, 7Troubled was her face ‘Aud Worn : within the hollows of her eyes Dwelt an impatient sorrow, and her iips Had from themaelven tho girlish fullness preased. This wag Brita, who begins again tocurae Lars for tho grievous wrong he nad done her; but Ratb, with her love, softons this sad, desolate bheart. Drits forgives Lars, and is gathered within the fold of friends. Ilere, now, they fade. The purpose of thelr lives . Was Jifted ap, by something over life, To power end service. Though the name of Lars Bo never heard, the healing of tho world Is in its nameiess saints, E: eparate star Becma nothing, but a myriad acattered stara Break up the Night, and mae it beantiful. THE RIGHT TO DIE. Prof. Newman’s Letter on Enthanasia. 7o the Editor of the London Spectator : Sm: I write to you at the request of Mr. Lionel Tollemacho, who fancies, rightly or wrongly, that I hive something to say whick m;\{ interest yon. He remarks that you seem to regarditas a reductio ad absurdum to his views of euthanasia that they would make out suicide to be some- times a dufy. Many years ago I had_full resson 1o believe that a friend of mine (a man mor- ally sud intellectually doserving high esteem), in an illuess lingering and hopeless, withdrew himself from Llfe somewhat pre- matarely by means of chloroform. I have uo doubt whatever it wos under a sense of duty. 1t led me to sonnd porsons now and then as to What they thought of thus terminating life in case of hopeless disease, es&ucinlly insanity ; and the prevalent reply was to the effoct, *I give no opinion; but thers are many who think a pain- fal, useless, and hopeless life ought to be ended.” If the present discussion should lead to freer ayowals, without fear of odium, it will be valua~ ble. Ishonld like to have the commissioners who visit lunatic asylumns called on suthorits- tively for their gincere opinions on tha subject. Somewhat_earlier, in reading travels, perhaps Mango Park's travels and sccounts of North ‘American Indians, I was led to meditate on such casos s that of a party forced to travel rapidls through forest or desert whero ona of them sud- denly fails in stren, If the rest stay to carry him " all will san They reluctantly leave Dim behind. Sometimes ho bogs to be killed, lest he perish of slow starvation or by vermin devouring him. Tho facts, I confess, led me to the conviction that we ovorstrain our reluctance to shorten life. But to fear to lesve s human being to perish alone, espe- cially at his command, when else others will per- ish uselessly for him, scemed to me liko the case ‘which very often occurs in sickness, where tend- ing the sick ruins the health of thoso round him ; where the strong and young are crippled, that, sn old person may miserably linger o fow months longer. L for onc, look with horror on allowing tender kinsfolk to sacrifice youthfal health in unie_r to add days or weeks to my life when worn ouf Of course'it is ovident that irregular and stealthy self-destruction, agains! tho moral opin- ionof 8 community, has contingent evils far greator than would occur if such practice were publicly sanctioned under fixed conditions. 1 take it for granted that as marrisge, adoptions, willsace in overy well-organized State registered under public officers, &0 if _euthanasis were legalizod it would be with like se- curitiea against sbuse. The registrar would be required to interrogate tho patient before witnosses, who would sttest his desire of death ; and medical testimony be added a8 to the hope- lessness of recovery. Near kinsfolk now earn- estly desire the death of o _patient when he is suffering agony or even delirium and painful de- 1nsions without hope. I do not understand how any one can fear abuse if death were legalized under deliberately planned restrictions such as I Dbave hinted. Iam, gir, &c., Fravcis W. NEWAMAN. WesTON-sUPER-MARE, February, 1873, S il il PERSONALS OF THE PERIOD, Greeno saw the boat was off, and wildly flew for it. The life insurance folks cricd : “Let em suo for it.” Jane used camphiene to light her fire tha faster. #We Isy her to rest,” intoned the pastor. Smith blew tho gos aut ero the bed ho glided for, TLeaviog bis family quite unprovided for. To learn if charged, Jones breathed into his fowling- P RA—— support his howling nlecs, Bron, thought he'd firt with Bimpson's wife » ttfe. The jury stood & dozen for acquittal. [ V1l shave,” eald Buth, of woman'’s rights the fors- runzer, +The razor must bave slipped,” observed the Cor- oner. . Btiles jumped to reach s moving rail-car’s platform, A hum’e‘l bereavement shocking is in that form. Wit wblaky ono can stand,” sald Tomplias, * tz3, o et’s.” ‘His sloep s sweet baneath the early violets. - His shop-girls put on topmost floor did Blazey. ‘After the fire thoy didn't count po many, Jinks {rfed to stop, by hand, s something-or-other- in® saw. I 44 My daughter's pext shan't smoke,” remarked his mother-in-law. —Orpleus C. Kerr in ths Graphfe. sSmoking. The Quarterly Review observes that the Ras- sian cadets have a imot weakness for smoking, snd smoking wss beld in such sbhorrence. by Nicholss that—as many an English Russia will still remember—any ever his ago and rank, was arrest rson, what- by the police if found emoking in the strects. Alexander, who was exceedingly fond of cigarettes, hid himself from his father, all Lis lifa long, when he wanted to have & smoke. Dieregzrding all tho penal- ties, howover, the cadets mansged to smoke in fheir schools, and jin one of them Alexander srrived one di at o moment wien tho rooms wwere fall of tobacco smoke. He did not seem to notice, however, what a couple of years. before would have been regarded as a crime very nearly approaching high treason, and ‘went_quietly an -| with bhis inspection, wher an alarm was sud- dealy raised, tbat the Emperor had arrived in the” school's courtyard. ~Alexander suddenly turned to the boys who followed him and said, ]t smells of tobacco Liero very strong; open quickly the windows; I will go down stairs and detain'the Emperor for a while.” And 8o he did; .the Emperor noticed nothing, and the Grand Duke Alexander became moro than ever the idol of the young men,who are old officers now, but from whose memory the story seems not to beve departed; at all ‘ovents, the writer bas had it repeated to him several times. traveler in" RATIGHALISH vs. CHRISTIANITY Mr. Abbot’s Impeachment of the Christian Religion. A Vigorous Rejoinder by H. P. Cro- zier. From ths Golden Age. oo than a year ago Francis E. Abbot uttered articles of impeachment against Christianity ; first in the Index, and afterward in Tract No. 10 of the Indez series. Theso articles were five in number. 1, Im- peaching Christianity in the name of human in- telligence. 2. In tho namo of humsn virtue. 3. In tho name of the humau heart. 4. In the name of human freedom. 5. In the name of humanitarian religion, The fifth and last article g{hz::m'uxml euhqen:," is & sumuiary of the , thrown in to cover the “‘6"‘;‘"‘;“_’1"? i whole ground ndor Article 1, Mr. Abbob charges that (a. Christianity is thé great organized. tmpemligim)x of the Western World (b.) That it is the great enemy of science, ret the spread of nat- tural knowlodge, (c.) It ix the greatest stum- bling-block in_tha pathwsy of civilization, be- cause it withdraws attention from the natural affairs of this lifo ; concentrates all its earncst thought on a fature life, that it ia to bo eternal bliss or etornal misery ; and condemns all active :i\:_tu'pn’su as dangerous devotion to “ carnal ings.” Under Articlo 2, Mr. Abbot charges (a.) That Christianity appeals to hope and fear us the su- preme motives of human conduct. (b.) Tenches that the virtues of our Savior canbe s substitute for the virtue of the saved. (c.) That the natural poaltiosof wrong doing can b escaped Ly *faith in Christ.” (d.) That Christianity onjoins self- abhorrence. and extinguishes seif-respect, and thereby annihilates human right, and is blind to justice, Under Articlo 3, Mr. Abbot charges, that (a.) Christianity recognizes no sanctity in natu- ral human affection. (b.) That it extends over myriads of gensitive minds the blackness and gloom of & horritle thoology. () Commanda Suprome Lovo to a God whosochasucter is utterly unlovely. (d.) That it sinks the brotherhood of man in the brotherhood of Christians, and winks at tho injustico and crnelty inflicted upon those who reject tho Christian creed. . Under Article 4, Mr. Abbot charges that Chris- tionity (a.) sets up & despotic authority that ‘makes man o slave in Lis very soul. (b.) Thatit Lias always allied itself with® despotism In civil governments. (c.) As Catholicism, it hes been an unmitigatod spiritual and intellectual tyranny. (d.) As Protestantism, it has been an unmiti- gated spintual tyranny. (e.) Itis the trus heir of the ancient Roman Imperialiem, seoking uni- veranl dominion, politicalas well 88 religious. _ Under Article 5, Ar. Abbot charges that Chrls- tianity (a.) stands stubbornly in tho path of all Liumai progross. (b.) Teaches the kmposaibil- ity of humanity’s advance through its own nat- ural exertions, and insists that it shonld rely on supernatural nsaistance alone. (c.) Teaches despair of human naturo as ruined, lost, de- praved, incapablo of all salyation but that which comes from without. (d.) Proclaima ideas of God which wonld drive every reflective mind ac- quainted with modern knowledge into absolate Atheism, were it not that modern knowladge itself furnishes the eloments of a far higher ides of God in nniversal nature. Thega five articles of * The Impeachment of Christianity,” including twenty distinct counts, 88 just stated in nearly Mr. Abbot's own’ language, £ro nll condensed in 5 small duodecimo tract of only six pages, and with- ont one word of proof, without one historical statement, without any attem, analysis of soclety, Christian or Pagan, withont announcing any new. gmcifim of interpretation, or of Bib- lical criticism, by which the author has arrived at his conclusions. They are thrown on to the world, with all the solemnity of self-evidept propositions. If honesty of purpose is vi.n?i‘ cated, modesty bas at least been fearfully sinned sgainst. An attack 50 sweeping, galnst s sys- tem of faith and ethics which, in Afr. Abbot's own lsngusge, “has endured for nearly two thousand years, because {t has struck root into the true, the admirable, the everlasting,” should have been supported by volumes of evidence, historical, political, ethical, religious, or bave never been made. ' Unsupported, it is &n im- peachment of Mr. Abbot, and not of Chnstian- 1ty, that ho himself has made. Mr. Abbot identifies Christ with the evolu: tion of his ideasin the church, holds Christian- ity responsible for all the history with which it Toeponaibla not oy (0F the Interpretations. bus Tesponsible not only for the retations, but for the very lives of hisdisciples, Hesays *Chril tianity is the great system of faith and practice which is organized in the Christian Chn ; and its history is the history of the Christian Church. Buch I believe is the definition whioch it has mnde for itself; and such eubstantially is the gl:y definition of it which will abide the test of A The Church and Christianity identical! Relig- ion and theology one! No. Christianity is the ideal and the Iife of Jesus of Nazareth. And tho dofinition which Jesus gives his own religion, love of God and jove of man, is the only one which. will sbide tho test of time. We may as truly assert that tho governmental evolution of the United Statea up to 1861, with elavery apparently wideniog its empire under the Constitation, was, and is, the only truo definition of the Declaration of Tnde- pendence, 68 to assert that Christ and bistoric Christianity are idontical. ‘There is not one of Mr. Abbot's chargos, cov- gred by bis fivo nticles of [mpelchmanledlnd twenty specifications, but_what is disproved by the spe;&c ‘precepts ‘of Christianity as given even the first disciples ; while the entira life anc teachings of Jesus refute every one of Mr. Ab- bot's attacks. Forexample: Christ saya *“ Yo shall know the truth, and the truth nhu.llmnks;on free.” T this an. ent or superstition? Panl gaya. “ Prove all things, hold fast what s good.” Is this tho enemy of science ? * Your heavenly fathor knoweth that ye have need of all these things,” eags Jesus. “If aman will not work, neither shall be eat,” says Paul. “ Ho that pro- videth not for his own, and _especially for his own household,2hath donied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.” Does this * withdraw attention from the natural affairs of this lite 7", “ Be diligent in business,” Does this * concen- trato all earnest thought on another lite 2" Ia this “ frowning on active euteren'u 28 danger- ous devotion to carnal things ?” Is there any better incitement to enterprise than in Christ’s parable of the talents ? * Love your cnemies, bless them that carse you, do good to those that hate you, and pray Tor them that despitefully nge you and persecuto you ; that yo may be the children of your father which i in heaven. For be maketh his sun to riso on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain onthe just and ontbe unjust.” Is this “gppealing to hope and fesr as the supreme motive of human conduct ?” I it not rather an AQEGL‘ to the highest disinterestedness and the widest benevolence. * Except your righteous- ness excocd the righteousness of the Bcribea and Pharisees, in no caso enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” “This do snd thon enalt live.” * Heshall save the ple from (not in) their ains.” Does this teach that ¢ the virtues of the Bavior can be n substitute for the virtues of the saved ?” ¢ He that doeth wrong shall receive for the wrong that he hath done, and thers s no respect of persons with God.” Does this intimste *‘that the natural penalties of wrong-doing can bo escaped 7" *Call no man master.” * Judge yonot of your own selves what isright?” “ Your bodiesare temples of God.” Does this * enjoin self-abhor- rence, snd extingnish self-respect?” Does it not rather raise man to heaven, and make every one his own king and priest? ‘What man is there, whom if his on ask him bread, will he give him & stono? Orif he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent 2 1f yo then being evil (or ImperTect) know how to give good gifta to your children; how much more will your Father which is_in Heaven give good things o them that ask Him #' 1Is there 1o recognition of the sancti- ty of buman affections here ?” Do not these ‘worda of Jesus make the sanctity and impartiali- ty of patural human affection the very type of the Divine? : The chnr?e that Christianity “extends over m; of sensitive minda the blackness and gloom of s horrible theology,” is gratuitous, unless we are at liberty toidentify Christianity with Calvinism or Armenianism, and sink all its sublime pr'mfl'flm of the love and fatherhood of God toward all men, evil as well a3 good, in the false and fearfal interpretations of medizval faith, ‘Che charge thit we are commauded * to love a God supremely whoss character s utterly unlovely,” is disposed of in the same way. Itis B quel of _interpretation.--Br. Abbot ac- cepta the character ascribed to God in Calvin's Tnstitutes, and the equally unchristian creeds of Christendom, as & fair representation of Christ's idea’ of- God = But every fair-minded man must see -that . thi is a total misre tation, & hor- rible cariesture. From Christianity, as in- terpreted by Panl, we derive our idea of “‘the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, whom the whole family in Heaven and on earth’is named.” From Jesus himself we get our ides of God as our heavenly father,” ‘‘more willing to give good gifts to his children than earthl { parents are to give good things to their chi dren;" ‘who maketh His sun to shine on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just andon the unjust.” We deny that the eatly, medieval and modern dogmas of election, repro- bation, and endlegs misery are any fair and logi- cal interprotation of Christianity, either in lettor or spirit. And this denial bas been maintained by many of the best scholars of Christendom. The charge that Christianity *sinks -the brotherhood of man in thebrotherhood of Chris- tiang, and winks at the injustice and cruelty in- flicted on those who reject the Christian creed,” is not only n_nsul:ported by the letter and spirit of Christianity, but is unsupported by the his- tory, teaching,’ and practice of the Christian Church in all its ages. Tho Jésnits alone hava practised upon Mr. Abbot’s ssseried principles ; and to impute their bigotry and conduct to the wholo Christian Chureh,” aud to Christianity itaelf, i8 on & par with that shellow, clerical im putation, that all the crimes of Red Ropublican- ism in the French Revolution were the out- wih of Free Thought and Free Religion. “As we have .therefore opportunity, let us do EM anto all men, especially to those of the ousehold of faith.” iV ‘philan- thropy instesd of restricted philanthropy Lins been the burden of the Christian religion. Instead of *‘winking at injustice and crus intlicted npon_those who reject tho_Christ creed,” Christianity has always held s ehield over fhe weak, the low, and poor, and & aword over the prond and oppressive. Tinally, Afr. Abbot c! es that ‘¢ Christianity sets up a’ despotic authority that makes man 1 slavon bis very sonl; that it has arways allied itsel? with despotism in civil goveroment— ** As Catholicism and as Protestantism 1t hasbeen unmitigated tyranny”;—is tho “true heir of Roman Imperialism, secking universal domin- ion, political ms well as religions™—“that it stands in the way of all progress,” and teackes deépair of human nature, a8 ruined, lost, de- praved, incspable of all salvation bat that which comes from without.” This despotio suthority, and these ambitions and universal pretensions to dominion, char- ished by ¢he man whose whole life and feach- ings wero a rebuke to protenaions, pride, and worldly grestness ; who wonld not be King of the Jewa, who said, ‘ Ho'that humblath himeel shall bo exalted, and he that exalteth himsef shall be abased ;” who told the beloved disciple, ““Forbid him not, he that is not against us is forus:” who rebuked Pharisaical prayer and public Alms-giving; who nover patronized the rich, and theproud, and the worldiy groat; who, **born in » manger.” and dying upon tho croes, for humanity's eake, not God’s, filied in ke short public life and ministry with the mott wonderful meekness and disinterested human service that the world ever saw, eaying, he * came not to be ministered unto but to m:inis- ter;” and “ whosoovor will be great, shall bo the servant of all!” r. Abbot's Impeachmentof Christianity can- not be made g 88 against Christ or his teach- ings, withont doing violence to all tho laws of thought, and ali the canons of rationalcriticism. Ho seoms to be identified with a class of critics . abounding chaff, and ma who refase to judge of Jesus and his religion by tho same methods of thought which thoy ap- ply toanyof the other Oriental raligions. When treating of Brahminism or Parsceism they apply the scientific method. Thoy admit. the law of moral pmmflvs‘ They shade off the tradi- tional and temporal into’ the abeolute aud per- manent ; thoy seek to see * the spirit of gapd in things evil.” Even a few grains of wheat in Epictetus, or Marcus Aurelius, or Plato, or some unknown Seer or Sibyl, they sift ontof the ify ‘as the seed-corn of humanity, without which the souls of the race would perish for want of natriment. Bat thoy aspproach Christianity the scientific method is dropped. They look for chaff instead of wheat. ere is no 1aw of moral perspective awarded to Jesus. The permanent aod univoreal aro mired in tho siont and traditional. The divine is sunk in the human, Every limited concoption of truth by the Evangelists, who were mere roporters at the best, overy Jowish notion of Paul, every fiery anathems of Peter and_John, evers crude and lmfnrfm thing in the thought and life of the ear] éhdé!dp!na, who necesearily had to in- terprot stianity somewhat through the mists and orgles of Paganism, or the ritual of Judaism,- sl the current opinions and auperstitions that dropped their shadows into the transparent nar- rative of the Gospels, are fastened to Jeaus him- self, as though he wore responsible for the bigotry of hia age, the ignorance and stupidity of his followers, the ideas he had outgrown, and the errors he assailed. Admit_that religion is absolute and eternal. Btill, like sclenco itself, it owes everything to" the genius of diecovery. Beience is only the- discovered method of nature. It is simply tho cllumfl;:nlmu of the known Cf:ot‘printu o‘l: the Cre- ator. rripne, Hamesia Nowton, o RERo32h (00T Firaho from th3. scienco of nstronomy, and while the stars would. hold on their courses, what would the world know about celestial dynamics? Withont the work and teachings of these gited men, astron-, omy would drop from its place s anexact eci- ence, and the stars again fall into the keeping of - sooth-sayers and astrologists. Jesus created no truth; he added no new attribnts o Deity, no new faculty to the human 1O new ele-’ ment to religion. But he discovered the true. character of God, the native grandeur of the hu- man soul, the spiritual and eternal element of on. i In fable, in tradition, the statement of a pro~ found and universal truth and a painful and dis-. torted limitation of that same i, may co- exist! In tho living, human conscionsness, no- such contradiction ¢an’coexist. The knowledge of the universal and absolute swallows up the partial and imperfect. And whenever we inter- pret & human intelligence by the limitations of an ignorance which its own' illumination dissi- pates forever, we do injnstice to the Iaws of the mind, and the intnitions of reason and sonl, and diasipating the established principles of rational criticism. All truth, nebulous or full-orbed, is divine. It is in barmony with tlis order of nature, with~ the life of God, angels, and men. It is that order and that life. Bat, divine as all trath is,. all truth relating to man, his welfare, duty, and destiny, hns to be born into of rovealed smid hu- man conditions. The purity of the divine ray of . truth, and the power of its illumination, depend upon these human conditions. As clouds inter- cept the sunlight, a8 the dip of the earth in its orbit turna summer into winter, while the sun is speeding his light throngh incalcalable millions of miles, all the while and all the same, so clouds of ignorance, error, superstition, prejudice, big- otry, ein, obstruct tho light of the truth, and goes too far from® his appoi it, or in that orbit_iiclines too much to himself, he reaches his winter solstice. There is night and winter for the soul as well as for the earth. Christ and Christianity are the soul's summer solstica. Fear and hate are diesolved in trust and love. Belf-seeking i consumed in self-sacrifice. Hera is » simple, trusting, loving human life, lived smong men, nover secking ita own, never dissp- pointing - just, human _expeclation, neves oppressing, but always uplifting humanity, be- lieving in God, and believing 8o much in man, that it calls man the Son of God; faithful in life, and faithfal unto death. When - Mr. Abbot can live a better life, when we can improve npon Christ’s ideas and epirit, when he outgrows the Bestitudcs, and teaches a better Gospel than the Sermon on the Monnt, then, and not il then, can he impeach Christianity. 0, 1873 — MACRIGAL. [Every robin-redbreast takes himself a mate! T the Ll ool spsing ghiten ot smssanes gt e -f00! 8p! e & 2. 80 beard tho Hirds Fing, gnce upon 8 days - © O, my tresrure O, my pleasure} Canst thor ssy s nay Birta" s0ngn 4nd bisds' neats and green bonght ton er, . Aflgogo: Love alons Iaughs st bitter weather, Bummer iy or winter Gapa; itle recks Love whether ; 1{ 50 be that Love have his own, his darling way. Ab, my fairest! AL, my rarest! Canst thou sy me nay? ht, P. Crozizs. BROOELYY, N. 1In the wood the wind-flawer is sunken out of eig] Low down and deep down and world-forgotten quite. ‘Bat do you think the Wind forgels that sho was sweel and white 7 Then listen to his sad voice a littls while, I pray 1 0, mycruell O, myjewell Canatthou say me nay3 The sun stole to s red rose aud wiled her leaves apart : 3iay duw and Juns air had wooed Ber at the start: But ,;:r?e;:‘n‘:‘; the yua should have her golden, Let me choose onn short wozd for timid lips to say = Ah, my precious ! My deliclons ! Itshall not be nayl —Lioward Glyndon in'the April Atlantic. St g e The ¢ Medicated Towel.” The Patent Office has recently issued to » Californis lady, the favention conaiating in rathor a novel method of applying medicina ex- . ternally, for the benefit of a certain class of tients, by meavs of a specially adapted Jove, This towel is used for drying the person after bathing, and, it i claimed, Ia meliontin con subetances it will- ar- and by such a 'process that rest cutancous digeases, paralysis, and local affec- tions, while it imparts 4% the samb time a healthe. fal action and glow to the skin and bad bumors. _itowal prepared in Egmit fio: specifled in this patent will, it is anid, retain ita madicinal virfues effoctively during two months' use, when the process of medication has to be Topeated. such REPR SR SN S ! !