Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 25, 1874, Page 11

THE CHICAGU DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, JANUARY 25, 1874 [MGDERN PESSIMISM. fow Dr. Strauss Has Fallen Into Disfavor. e Mysterions Cenneetion Between Wag- nerism and (he Pessimist System, London Correspondence of the New York Times. 1t would sppear from 5’ passage in tho inter- esiing article on Germaa literatare during 1873, jblished by the Athenaum, that Dr. Strauss, P eo the idol of all philosophic’ Germany, bas fallen into BOMETHING LIKE DISREPUTE, sod s, in fuct, being persecuted by his former herents, In Germany thero would seem, at {his moment, to be a certain pumber of philoso- phers who think, with Beethoven, that *¢Music jsamoro sublime revelation than all wisdom sod all philosophy.™ Dr. Btrauss, when, some {hinty vears 820, he wWas compelled by local demonstrtions of a hostile character to dechne the post of Theological Professor ab Zarich, to which he had just been elected, admitted, in a ;flpmot on the subject, that he did not quite {elieve in tho inspiration of the Old Testament, hich be, neverthicless, respected a3 **a collec- tion of venerablo traditions preserved by pious Hebrows.” That confession did him no harm in tso eyes of lterary and learned Germany. Jle poblishod his “ Life of Jesus,” and rose in the opinion of his philosophical friends. His 1stest woilr, “Tho Old Faith and the New,” would heve raized him higher still; for hero he ot only rejects all belief in the traditions (no lopger vencrable) ‘‘preserved by pious He- prews,” but denies the supeinatural altogether. Not content, howeser, with attacking the *old fath” in every form, he has ventured, in the corions but really admirable roview of German music whick. forms the epiloguo te tho work, to condemn Wagner and Wagner's compasitions, s, in tho body of the work, ho +sd condomued Schopenhauer and Schopen- ‘Saver’s pessynistic philosophy. ~This was more 1han Strauss’ former aliies conld etand. He might sy whst ho pleased sgainst Christiavity and the sapposed existence of & Deity, but Waguer and Schopenhaner are names NOT TO DE TAKEN IN VAIN, One must edore them or remain silent. Ac- <ordingly, Dr. Btrauss has besn cut, and is being everely criticised by men who formerly swore i him;_nnd all becauso he bas accused Wag- «er of mistaking ** the groteaque for tho genial xd the formless for the sublime,” aud be- csuge e has ridiculed pessimism as his great lierary master Voltaire ridiculed optimism. Strauss' little joke on the subject of Bchopen- aaer i3 & very Larmiess one,thongh the pessim- tis, Do doubt, consder it the worst of all pos- wiblo jokes in world which, according to them, w itself a joke of the worst possible kind. <107 says Strauss, * the world aud evergthing Lelongivg to it are bad, then Schopenhauer's stilosophs mast bo bad.’ Butif the philosophy which teaches that the world is bad is itself bad, 1t follows that the world is_not bad, but good.” Toat, in other words, is Strauys’ more or less lumorous argument ; but besiles disposing of pensimism by means of o comic syllogism, hehas ducd to question the righc of “the pessimistic puilsophers to tho attitude of intellectual saperiority sssumed by them, as though, in plain trath, the world were ot good enough for them tolive iu. 1 Leve never been able to fathom TI(E MYSTERIOUS CONNECTION which seemingly exists between pessimsm and Weguerism—except, indeed, on the prsciple (t0 repext Dr. Strauss’ jest in snother form) that, 10 the worst of all possible worlds, the music of Wagner is the worst of ail esible musi Waguer, howérer, Lns himself told us that, hay- fug accustomed himself to look upon all operatio wisic as utterly bad, ho finds Limself now and theo rewarded for this view by meeting with 2 passege of sorse beauty which, pot having ex- pected it, bie tinds more beautifal still ; and it is certainly in tL.s spirit, if avall, that one should liten to the operas of Wagner. Perhaps in those works, so little remarkable for besaty, the devout pessimist €cos xoally an image of {he world as he has learued to_regard it. Or the simple explabation may be that Wagner, baving proclaimed himscl! an ardent pessanist, (if ono can fancy ardor in sach » cresd) the digciples of Schopenhater, who form an mportant school or even sectin Germany, are qetermined to do all they can {0 increase the [rme of so cmivent a brother. In pite, however, of tho strange accord Detween Wagnerism and pessimicm, thore is this "ESSENTIAL DIFFERENCE between the two systems, that where Wagner prioses to eubstitute for the worst possibie operztic music sdmirable operatic music of his ovn composition. Schopenbauer gives up the univeree s o bad job, merely reminding his fol- Jowers to couform as much as possible ‘to its Jar.s, and 10 resign themsclves to the inevitable. 4 year or two sgo I chanced to find myself st & quiet German watering-place in tho centro of a littie society of pessimists, and _their pessimism wae really quite as droll 2s tho optimism of “Gandide,” and would bo foand so by every one were thero but a Voltaire to set it forth. The fan uf the thing consisted in this, that, pessim- iats 1n theory, my friends were optimists in prac- tice; or, rather, pessimists by the mind, they wero OPTIMISTS BY THE NEART. Tue first Ispose to struck we with dismay whie, 1n aDSwer to £ome Grainary question, ho asswed me that *his object in ife waa to get through this miserable world with 88 little suf- feruny sspossible.” ‘[hat same eveping, iv wish- ing nother peseimist good night, ho compli- mésced him on * having reached tho end of the day without accident,” as though, 1n the natural cousee of things, he might have expected him to keeak his necl, or, at the least, an arm or a leg. 4 Guner, the next afternoon, be recommouded % particular disis to me as being **notvery bad.” s 80id, in regard to some Aloscile wine that Ie was dnoking: * Many suthorities - declare ferior to Rhine wine; while others, of equal ight, consider Rhine wino the worst. Hav- therefore, Do sure scientiic guide on subject, I consult my own personsl tastes, drmk the Moselle.” ~ Only once this philo- hical geutleman appeared in the character of optimist, when not to have dono so would been to AUSTAIN FROM CONTRADICTING HIS WIFE, ¥ho herzelf was a pessimist. “ This hare,” the lady in-question had observed, in the midale of inugr, © has no hare's character.” ** The hare 52 fin hare,” the husband replied, * sud pos- sesses the character of its species. All I can sdmitis that it is wanting mn individoality.” Tuat the hure, objeckively speskiog, is a bare, I alresdy knew,” returned the philosopher’s wife. What 1 meant was, that to_me, subjec- tivély considering it, it is 8s tastcless as mut- in.” Thednever before heard the language of thilozophical eriticiem applied to cookery, aud i certainly amused ma. - Pessimists being convinced that the world is # bed as it con possibly be, they would be drngely wanting in good nature, indeed in ordinary human feeling, did they Dot strive, ¥ithin “the limited sphore of tbeir power, to zmzke it s little betier. This they can do by Ding ons another without refusing their goodwill even to those misgnided optimists ¥ho, like the Rev. Charles Kingsloy, love the 2artheast wind because, if it does not give them Fonchitis, it may possible brace up thoir nerves, ead admire inundations becsuse, though- they my lay waste whole tracts of country, they gve opportunities to energetio men of display- g their energies by buuding up dikes and oller defenses. Christianity, in fact, 88 Scho- ¥ubaner has himself observed, is 1 . A PESSIMISTIC BELIGION,” or which reason to pessimists do nob hate thoir toemics, the optimists, but merely despisetbem. LAluxu_ugu & pessimist myself,” said one of the ralernity to me, I can conceive a man having €uch o fow ideal of life that be may be an optim- iel. Standing, therefore, as I do,” Lo continued, nearly half way between these two exiremos, one thing js quite certain, that I can do no sort O work. Accordingly, X pass through existence fs¥eilag jts innomerable troubles will permit, duuuwxn_g the bentof myrational inclinations au( eveloping my facultics. Yon will eoy that this is Sgotistical” ({had snidnothing of the kind), **but !3‘_’ prove thakidea to be erroneous. You cannot H iivate s razo without besutifying the garden 8 Fhich it enws, nor can I perfect myself with- gmn €0pv way benfiting all who do me the ";_“'r 0 wanr juto conversation with me.” 1227 0 picaie was srranged, at which I was woncand witk (b ate of & young lady spocially {oumended to my sttention on tho S tke “Lkuew her Schopenhauer by A0d wag, in fact, ONE. 07 THE OST ADVANCED PESSTMISTS.” saTentted to express a doubu to the genile- on¥ho bad introduced: me as to whother it 9uld be powsible to find favor, even in & very {demie degreo snd for only a few hours, 1 by £5es of 50 tetrible a critio ; but he explained o it was the recoguized duty 2 round enrt,” of pessimiats ' to make the ‘best of a world, and that those who were pessimil;:‘ui pot merely by philosophy but by tempersment ware not tolerated in socisty, and were expected to keep their rooms. As to my partner for the afternoon, T-must kay-that when [ hed once got over the idea that she was bound by her philoso- phy to Iook upou me a3 the worst possible man in the worst possible world, T fonzd her very sgrecable ; the fact apparently being that the ;fiifi“fi:fi tx?c‘u Sch:‘rienh::e; Lavo as little activa creod a8 the beli is i !y;kfm. ; elievers in any otier Pleasant, howover, s they may be i life, pessimists , .y B R aeeal s nzmmm}:n WITI omain of ilosophy; or, like 3 Strauss, the nubeheyir il be astidmatived i tho name of Schopenbanes, and of Wagner, his mt'igi:chl prophet. 4 Tho once deistical, now purely atheistic popular in' England. Bat it is a remarkable thing that, while the “ Lifoof Jesus” and “The Ol Faith and the Now" bave both been trans- lated into English ({‘ha former by the author of : Middlemarch,” the latter by AMiss Matilda Bling, danghter of the notorions Karl Blind), tho absolutely inoffensive work on Voltsire canuot find a publisborin this eountry. The explana- tion of this secming anomaly is, I fancy, that tho two philosophical-works have found trans- lators in philosaphical enthusiasts; whereas the literary wark has had to take its chance, sud, recommending itsclf to none of the ordinary booksetlers,—who zre frightencd ab the vory name of Strauss,—has Leen noglected. “ Vol- taire ™ is i the form of lectures, six in number, which were written et the request of the Pri cees Louise of Hesse (our * Princess Alico and ddelivered in Ler preseuco at Darmstadt. The lectures ARE IN ALL RESTECTS ADMIDARLE the style, in particular. being » great improve- ment on that of Strauss’ books, which here and there are sometimes (at least to outer barbari- ans) all but unintelligible. The dolivery of tho lectures, and the circumstances under which they were delivered, cauced such scandsl at. Darmstuds that the Priucess, to show how much sho cared for it, desired the author to publish them, and, in doing so, to dedicate them to ber One would have thought that lectures dedicated t0 a daughter of the Quoen of England would bo thought fit reading for any ope. But there is ono thing to which our pubjishers are more de- voted than even to *the Queen, the Prince of Wales, and all the rosal family,” namely: ortho- doxy snd respectability ; and thisspecies of wol ship forbids them to bave anything to do ith book by the author ol the **Life of Jesua.'™ MISERERE Say 1 doyon heardt: “fuc smouning aud ;roaning, The wailing of sorrow 7 List ! you arc near It That languishing mosn, That perizhing groan ! It's desth ere the orrow. Come wrap np closely, Eevp out tho sir, For the weather is Lilterly eald, We will now enter thery— Thiat tumble-down: cottago and ol ; 7I1s thence comes that wail.of despair. Tes, the weather s bitterly cold. "Tis the wail of the weary, Tongiog for deatli; A sigl of the dreary, ‘Panting for breath 3 Gasping a sorrowTul curss g OF opelere despair, OF Worse,— A cuming of God in desth, Enter? Of course, thongh it frighten; We ghould tecl tie unfortuvate’s rod, “We a desolute sky may brighten, Walldug the paths thst He trod, And ebiaring the strokes of the rod 1 ‘Perchance we & burden may Lighten Of the fumishing poos of Gud. Nay, do not fear it,~ Tiat blasphemous cry 2 The Brother-God hears it, At bome in the sky ; “He's there, and He listens,— No teardrop e'er glistens But another drops down from His eye. In poverts's keeping Grim Want stares around, And snow-drifts aru leaping Wicre the erannies sbound. The terrors of hunger turough #ad eyes are cresping Where pitiful lips Lreathe unspokel prayer, And heart-broken vighing re-echoes despalr, Sise lay thee a-dying, Her children all cryfog, Aoaning and groaning, AtDeatl's porial nesriig. No bread in the house, No mopey 10 buy,— ‘Waiting and fearing, et lioping 1o de. The last embers were dying, And list | ale {3 sighing ¢ “ God only knows How the wiad pierces through These wora-out clothes,— Fur (e weather i3 bitterly cold, And it suows, « But here I must shiver, Hore I must stay ; O that over the River I mignt go to-day | Tue boatman ut Styx Could not eharge for tall, While waves of Death over me roll. “Crying for bread 7 I've none to give 3 Tiie lnst dry crust 1s gono wills my trust Tiat s Provident Land would know 3y sorrowing lot, my Waillug woe, ‘And for our need give bread ; But all such trust is desd. # 7Tis srit in that Book, In that crauny-nock, That He hiears the widow's crles,~ That the orphat’s MOSD Tic feels His owD,~ Their tearn of sofrowing drieat But in every page it Lics. 1 cannot now resd Iis mocking page Mkilo my cinidzen plead And hungering Tage,—~ l‘mnou‘:\dug its words o lle. Go take it, cbild, and ecll it for bread,— You will not need it whon L am dead { “Go eell it o them That heed that bell That rings now ior me . But a sorrowful knell Of blighted hope §5 God That bell iu church that's called His own They believe that he hears the widow's moan, 4 They will rojoice, ‘With impassioned voice, In the promises clesr, Witis a Savior near, “And call thoso promises sweet retreats, Neath tho glowing lighta On their cushioned seats. 4 §¥ho wonld wonder ot prayer and praise From those so blest With temporal rest,— z Present saivation heve at the door, "And o bright, glad Heaven to end thelr dsyal T wonder if ever they truly deplors “The gad, lard falth of tho faithless poor? 4No, I remember, in days sgone, Whex I tock my Little ones slong, And found » seat near the daor, t¥e heard of Jesus who never would leavo us, Who made His bed with the poor; Whio spent Hia Lifo with tho wrotcied strifo,— The strifo I ow deplare. “But, when T tarned to my loncly home, To Jeave the place of prayer, 26y littla oncs dinug to my tatfered dressy— In overy motion did fear express OF the cold, unfecling stare,— The plotn yet unspoken sneer Of *Whiat are you doing here?” 4 Tyas then I learned To hate ihe rod, Strive hng:lnfic‘i‘;u, Cherisbing liat mtwrly%:ursi‘!:g the Christian’s God ¢ that wes His imuge we met at the d ‘He never knew tlie helpless poor. 4 TTo would not have left us ‘With poverty’s stinging, And bunger-cries ringing,— My portion to die here aloue : ‘He ‘sould have compassion And eave, cre I dssh on The sea of the gloomy Unknown.t Let us enter. She coases “To spesk, while increases The allor of Death The throes of lifs ouding, “The spirit releases: The heart-strings are Tending,— *Tis the last; gsapiug breath. 00 late was our coming; The wild wind s bumming sad, plaintive requiem over the dead: Too Inte, and a spirit ‘Has fled to the portal, To stand in she Judgment, A fuithless immartal, But coms { mu;re’:h-nramer. :hing other § ey He's fighting with deous The wild, Aunken €5es * Botoben 5 madness. ‘But, look there I—he dical Dis s he curses The demen of Rum,—~ Gurses, while dsIcg, Ti:e dear opes at Lowie,— & Freezing without, burning writhin. 0 had we come sooncer, We uight have zaved bim. B - ‘blood of tho martyr.” But who {a it that passes,— ‘T‘};:‘: Mlde'- db:rlnhn orm, Rad, drooping lash And looks S0 fonoraz A Magdalen lost, By the bitter world crossed ; In the morping of e, A fulse tale of acanda A aoar young life tossed. To Passion’s wild strife. Go quickly | sh's pearing, Nor cariog, nor fearing, The wild-sanrging waters. AD, look there! she's leaping 1 Down, down thers sho goes § Another sad daughter, A1 hopeloss and faithiess, She ends thus her woes. 0 onoe she n gladn Ere evera Efd‘hw‘s" Hud furrowed s care In tho hioast, on the cheek Sa rosy and rare, Was free from all blame, Genial, bappy, and meek. T tempter, who was ho That Liighted hor life 2 The devauchee, man 3 Or the terriblo ban That Soclety ralsos Aud heartiessiy praires? Let them battle against it who can The firat stono, when thrown, Is never alono ; ‘And, going dovn hill, They but go faster still With the jeer and the scorn: 8ad, recklcss, forlorn, They caunot come back if they will, z But there? Jook sgain! For pity | for shawe | Sce the littlo one over the streot | “Tis raggod and Lame, I sw 38 wo camo ‘They’re freczing those blue Little feet. “Tis tho child of the dead. Goes sceking for bread. *Tin wistfully pleading.— Those sad eyes are reading A promise of hope, Though its young heart 1s blecding. . But ree thero! it falls 'gainst the rough, fey walls And list! thiere's a messoge. winle dyiug, for thee : # That Ravior, T thought He said, Como unto me) 0 brother! O sister? Humanity beckons, And Cirist s thus caling p ! hesten Bear the mien of the Master, And work In Iis life-work : ‘Remember the poor, And Iot us remember, As wild, bleak December Draws close round the beartbatons Oar idols of life, That awsy o the hovel Christ's images grovel In sorrowful, famishing atrife, ZLeavo your trumpeta bebind, A% you fuce the bleak wind,— Tha bypocrite’s boon do not crave ; But imitate tm, And in eccret begin “Your perishing brothers to save. "Tis Christ that is hungry,— You may give Him Tis Jeaus is thiraty,: You may give Him drink. Would you know aud be known At His great Father's throue, Be acquaint with Iim bere, A8 you rufxe up His own, OLxEY, I, Dec. 25, 1673. CURIOUS SUNDAY SERVICES, Qymns from the Poctry of Emerson and Longfellow—An Anthem from Shakspearc—Scripinre Leysons from St. Paunl and Mohammed—A Disciple of Darwin. London Corrcspondence Cincinnati Commercial. 1 have recently written_you sbout the passion for Sunday lectures on scionce which zow pre- vaila in London, Among those which have beeu deliverod noue have attracted moro attontion than two which have on the past two Sundays drawn xory large audicnces to Sauth Place Chapel, Finsbury. The lecturer was ao Ameri- cap, Mr. John Fiske, author of an excellent worl; “Myths and Myeh-Makers,” whicn has Dbeen reproduced in this country, and lectured in 1870 at Harvard University. Mr. Fiske has Deon for about two months occupying an apart- ment just opposite the British Muscnm, where Le is revising the proof of a large work on evo~ lution which Macmillan is to bring out next year in this conntry and America. - Mr, Darwin and Mr. Herbert Spencer were anxious to have him lectare befors one or more of the variona institutions in Lovdon ; but Mr, Fiske’s arrangements for a wisit to the Conti- vent could not bo adjusted with tho times which wore esgerly offercd bum ; aad uader these cir- cumstances & certain religious socicty was found glad to turn_thoir chapel for two Sunday morn- ings into a scienufic institute o liston to the vousg Harvard philosopher. The sudiences that gathered on both Sundays were, as I have said, Taige, and as the same timo they contained some of the most emineut literary and scientific menin England. And there was but one opin- jon expressod, that this community had nover heard scientiflc subjects treatod with greater skill and comprchepsiveness, BIr. Fiske hag no rhetorical flourish about him; without any effort, withont sny gesture beyond ocea- pionally adjusting his spectacies, with perfect— almost dry—simplicitity, bu with o clear, honest voice, ho atates his facty; but the facls sre 8o striking and so artfully marshaled 1n illustration of his thought, that the effect is that of the fia- est elogueyce, snd st fimes it reqnired some ef- fort on tne part of old members of the chapel to suppross tho applause which froquently threst— ened to invado the decoram of the place. The lecture was preceded by bymue sclected from the poetry of Emerson and Longfellow, and by Scripture lessons read from St. Paul sad Mohammed. The reading from St. Paul was that chapter in which be speaks of tho wholo crea- tion a8 groaning and travailing in labor uatil now, waiting for the liberation of the sons of God, nd it gave rise to a phrophecy by Herbert Spencer that’ it would not be many yeurs before theologians will be busy showing tha whols Dar- wiuisn theory recorded in the Bible, The read- iog from Mohammed was the discourse in which be paid & tribute to Resson, and exclaimed, ©The ink of the scholar is more sacred than the ‘Theso lessons and the hymps from the American_poets constituted the only *gervices " on the first Sunday, snd Mr. Fisko then proceeded to give his lecture, which was a etatement of the case between the theo- ries of special creations and ovolution. The second lecture of Mr. Fiske was preceded by an anthem, the words being from Shaks- peare: To thine owa aclf be trae: And it must follow, ns the ight the day, Thou canst not thel bo false fo any man, Then » hymn, written by tho President of the Royal Philological Society (s member of tho chapel), beginuing : ‘Wiience and whither, wanderer, say, ‘Perched on yondes giddy height? Whence? from out the realms of night; “Whither? toward the realms of day. The readings wero a Hebrew psslm and s Bymn to the earth, composed in Indis some 1,500 years ago. These lectures have ot only been remarkable in themuelves—I might almost eay wondorful— but they are remarkablein beiog the flrst which over bronght before popular sadionce in this country in & popular form a comprekensive statement of the Darwinian theory. Naturalista have discussed it among themselves, have read apers on it, and wTitten about it, but no man Jo8 hitherto taken up the whole subject and from first to last placed it fully snd intelligibly beforo a general lay audience The orvice which Mr. Fiske has done is very widely apprecisted. Many gentlemen waited for him on each occa- sion at the door sud thanked him with cor- dinlity ; and I am preity sure that in the futuro few Americans will enjoy so fine & reputation for scholarship and plulogophical ability s tlus young thipker, whose visit must have added a glow of satisfaction to the heart of every American in this country. TO CHLOE. Though time and distance may divide The faithful Strepbon from thy side, ‘Chloc, my bright branette, Nor time nor distance can erase The mem'sy of thy lovely face, O teach mo 13 forget. Though beaaty groet me with smils, Andmaay 3 year sud many s mlls Msy keep our lives spart, “Thou rulest sll wy constant breast, Thou brigbtest, loveliest, and best, And ever bast my heart. And may I hope that I am not, Wath paseing years, by you forzot, Chloe, 80 far awsy, And fondly trust the Fates will bring Thy Strephon back from wandering ‘To thee, some bappy day 2 Alapisos, Wis. HARLES NODLE GREGORT. - Eugenics The Journal de Paris states that M, Rouher has jast signed witk the French Governmaat & convention in virtns of which the Empress Eugenio will recowve 8 sum of 8,000,000 francs, payable in annuities. The State will also restore %o Her Majesty the Cbincse museum b Fon- tainebleau, and the collection of arms at Pierre- fonds, a5 well 28 the works of art purchased by the late Emparos. _ THE WHITE-HILL PIT. . From Appletons’ Journal. At early twilight on & Juno evening there eat at & tea-table in one of the lofty pariors of a fine old conntry-house Among the Essex hills a ‘party of four persons,one of whom was detailing an . experience that bad befsllen him that dsy, while the othere Were aitentively listening. Tho host, an aged gentleman, eat opposite the relator, On his right hand, silent and mo- tionless, was Godtrey Nassan, the young Tector of tho parish, and on bis left was 'his dangbter, with her pretfy head resting upon her hand, and with her face, softly illuminated by the fail- ing light, turned, like her father's, full upon the story-teller. : This sto: -tellor was a handsome and pow- erfull t man of thirty or theresbout. and e sddressed what he said golely o his vis-a-vis and to the girl, seemingly iguoring the pres- ence of tho rector. His voice Wwas strong snd sympsthotic, and he modulated it artfully. Tt appearcd from what be said that ho had that day, while in gearch for subjects for sketching, come suddenly snd without warning upon an immense, terrible, aud dangerous pit, a deserted marble~juarry, the edges of which were secreted Dy & frioge of uader-brush. ) Fbis, tho hout bad explained, wes the White- Hill Pi "Ibe patrstor weat on and described the place, vividly setting forth its sinister features, and dvwelling at great length upon the horrors of fall- ing into it. SN ) ‘At this point, the sensitive girl moved a little, and tho two young inen perceived, even in tha faint hight, that she had becomo pale. Nassau ynw that tho speaker observed it. but still he hesitatod to interfore, “Tho other, fiattered at the effect he had pro- duced, hoartlesely went on, and with subtile skill cularged upon tho agouics of & dowaward ight through tho air, and dwelt with painful minute- nesa upon the final enock, and the accompanying ismemberment of tho body. Miss Alice. heavy-eyed, pallid, and trembling from bead to foot, - beve’ fell forward in a faint, in the midst of great confusion, She was immediately carricd from the room with the &id of servants, and, sfter a short ab- souce, the host hastily returoed to assure hig guests that theynced feel no apprehension in re- gard to ber. ) 3 ‘He found them in the midat of a hot dispute. Iio listenod for a moment in astouishment. Sad Nassau in o half-suppressed, buf still penetrating, voice: i i+ 1 am certain that that was a doliberate and calculated attempt on your part to prodace an effect. Xt was not at all neccsgary to the proper description of that terrible spot that you should couple ehocking personal experionces with it. Yon were wanton sod crucl!” T do not admit that you are & jndge.” 4« Posably, then, you' do not admit that we havo had evidence 7 ; 71t seems to me ihat you are ehowing z temper in this mastter that does not becomo a rector.” “Iois asmnch the duty of a rector, sir, to declare his antipatby to an 1li as it is to show his love for a virtue, and, when the crime that ho discovers bas been s covert one, be is bound to Jot it be kuown that he hasnot been blind, I “Nassou! Nassau! Sicl” The host hete hast- oned forwand. - Nassau, I sm surprised—I— you—tlus is o sudden outoreak! 1t had & sudden provocation, air!” 4 Bat'you ae too hasty. You jump at con- clusions. Now, I did not see anything of the fault you mention. You.must remember that Wiltis isa giant in physique, and that ho has, naturally, the feelngs of a giant. ,His mind is active and vigorous. and his imagination paints in strong colors. You, whoare a elighter and thinner-blooded man, are acute, and perbaps morbidly alivo, to shodes of meaning that for Lim do not exist. As for Alice, 1 do not doubt that she was tired, or noryous and—" s, evon—" eagerly interpased Nessat. “&top!” interrupted tho other. *Allow me, for a moment, I beg of you. I wanted tosay that, if she yiclds €0 readily to such mild attacks upon her fancy, I think it 1a high time that she aud all the househola were infazed with gome strong and hearty sensations. Porbaps wa all need tke influence of an active and animated spirit, and, if I sm not greatly mistaken, Mr. Wil- lisis to prove our refoymer. Iam sure, Naseau, that you wi\Y, aiter » littio cool thought, sgree with me. Perbaps yom aro eomewhat overstrung Yourself. Yon know that your labors have bean Revers, of late—perhaps you are & little sensi- tive—who knows 7" There was a moment's silence. The three men etood motionless in the gathering gloom, and were hardly discornible to each other. “ Come, Nassau,” eaid the bost finally, ina gently-urgent tone—* como, let mo make your peace; permit mo 1o expruss your good-will for my guest—may L not 2" - Porhops there vnas something mandatory in 1ha request, still Nassou did not permit himself to hesitate, Ho replied : . « Certainly, if you will be so kind.” Euch made a rigid snd formal bow, snd then, after the silence of another instant, tho host exunyed 8 naw und maro cheerful vein of talk. Ha was bus partially successful, however, for the adverse temper of the moment was too atrong o be thus essily changed. Both Naussau and Willis made formal attempts at courtesy, but these each and all lacked the saving grace of truth, and so they chilled up- on the air hike winter breaths. In a0 hour the rector took his departure, He walked down over the lawne, now aud then Jooking at the Lighted upper windows of the old house. “He leaped over the palings, ond, stepping into the moonlit road, watked sluwly on toward s distant bome, with his head bent upon his breast, sud with his handa clasped bebiod him. He wasa passing Lis case aud its circumstances in reviow. “Come,” said_he to himself, ‘“lot us ad- mit 1—my path is becoming & hard and thorny ove. I can no longer refuse to bo convinced of that. Willis is m§ nval. Alice has grown strangely cold tomo. The father's eyes are filled with the virtues of the ew hero, and the old one is being pushed aside. That is the sum of it. Ti ia neither more nor less than that, Willisis o m\vur{ul. athletic, spirited man ; bo is full of ifo and onergy. He sings, ho rides, he rows, he laughs sloud, bhe rtecites, ho fills tho bhouss with noiso and _excite- meat. This pleases his host. His old heart ia delighted—and it is natural that it should be ; ‘yes—it is natural. But Alice—Alico can scaccely find littls to love in all this. It is impossible that her tender spirit can bo cheerod or soothed by such virtues, Yet shois gradu- ally drawing away {rom me, she 2voids me, sho gives me suort answers, she does not smile when I_coms, or try to detain me when L go. AL, I did not think I could be so unhappy! gtill, how impossible this is! It caopot be! He 'ia cruol, solsh, heartless, Notbing true and lasting can bridge the gulf between them! ‘they are too dissimilar to love each other. I am sure of that! But lot mo be calm. Let me judge fairly and justly between us—let mo examine our separate dispositions, and assore myself that I am not in the wrong. It seems hard that he, 20 much of a stranger, should rush in aud tear asunder our sweot com- ;mnjonship with so rudo a hand, and assumo by force what I had earned by lonz waiting! But paticnce, patience. Let me study how I can un- deceive them, and warn them of tho impending danger, Let mo think and plan what I can do to restore the old order of things that I loved— alaa! perhaps, too well.” Commuaing thus with himself, the rector kept on his way, revolving his troubles in his mind, and gradually bnoging out of the chaos a well- defined and necessary purposo. During the few days that succeeded this, Willis urged his new-born claim to Miss Alice's favor with great persistence, and Nassng, standing ! partially aside, felt the current turn moro and more strongly againss himself. Finally, urged by bis ever-iucreasing pain and saxiety, lie one_sftornoon songht out- his rival, whom Lie found st the adge of & wood upon a hill-side, where ho was occx;Ficd in sketching the broad and glowing interval. Heo waa emoking, and was_ontircly st ease in hin Joose garments, whilo Nassau, ia circum- spect biack, stood formally ercct, at short speak- ing distance. “1 had hoped,” eaid the lstter, coldly, after explaming in a few words the object of Lis visit, that I could persuade you 1o regard tuis mat" ter from ¥ standpoint.” “+ 1t wonld bo quite as reasonable that I should demand that you look at it from mine.” I do not agree with you.” # Indeed )" or 1 think you are theiaterloper, or, rather, the intruder.” 4 In not that & little harsh 2" # Perlinps so—I beg your pardar Thero was 8 sileace. Willis_went calmly on with his paintiog and smoxing, while Nassau scemed to bo holding his breath. Presently be resumed. “Jehould ke to discnss the subject with you, tor we could then mee clearer, I thiuk. It is a little complex at present, aud no doubt wo conld each explain enough to permit us to sct more intelligeutly. 4 Poseibly.” +Spall I go on2™ +Qh, yes—yes.” “L nppgs.e you admit that you love RMiss Weymouth. w gdn:il it? No, I do not admit it.” Py e ¢ I do not sdmit it, I sesert it.” “ Upder the circumstances, it seema to me :bxt you mako an unuecessary distinction in the erms.” “ On the contrary, it is a distinction that I feel obliged to make in order to keep your self- eufficiency in its place. _Were I accountable to {;_Du, 1 ehould admit. Inasmuch as accounta- ihty to yon is out of tho question, I simply state the fact, for your edification, that I love Miss Weymonth.” Willis, in spite of himself, showed s little heat. The other retained his ontward com- sure, though bhis blood boiled within him. o did not speak until he folt that he could trust himself. * Let me go over the gronad,” gald he, gent- Iy ; “let me make a little review. You came in upon our party of three, and found that Miss Woymonth and I entertaived regard for each othior, and that, on my part at leasi, thore was 5 strong and esrnest affection. Our inter- course was_lookod mpon with favor by hor facher, and I donot doubt that you found us very happy, both as regards the present and the future, Thero had been no positive en- gogement to marry made between us, and you scemed to feel that tho absonce of any Buch bond gave you s right to interpose your own claims—claims that nglnmg into existence too suddenly to be valid. 'hat is, it seems o 0 me.” Willis laughed, but his cigar went out. Nosssu continued : “You andI aremen of very difforcnt tem- perament. You are a man of impulse, and I am. amau of deliberation. You are powerful, vigo- rous, athletic, and a man of the world; I am a student. In ordor that our natures shall bo sat- isfied, it Do necessary that we each securo the affection of one suited to them. If wo are sceking, like honorablo and intelligent mes ter true wives, it i3 propos- ierous that wo should strive to secura the regard of the same Woman. She must be entirely dis- similar to one of us, aud I do not think that we can both persist in our attempts to gain hor hand without doing & gross wrong. You understand mo. I donot eay at whose door this wrong will rest. I do pot say thas . gou ere blameworihy for what you kave done, and neitber do I admit that I am, I merely iosist that thac delicate, sensitivo, and thoughtful girl should not bo subjected to the risk of entanglement in marriage with the oue of us two that is unfit for her. Which one of us is tho unfit one he himself must decide, and I think, in plain words, that he, in the name of all honor and manliness, must feel bound to withdraw.” Nassaa stopped and looked attentively at Willis, who eill kept at work, 5+ That is very fairly put,” eaid the other, reflectively. ‘Nassau's face lighted up with sudden, bril- liant look. His eyes sparkled, and the flush re- turned ino hs pale cheeks . “Then—~then yon will consider it. I know that I am right.”” Certainly. * Consider it? that you wilL” % Certainly I ¢hall. But tho trial that one of us must be put to will be & severa one.” “+Yes, nudoubtedly,” returnod Willis, calmly. “7 was about to aay that myself.” Tho two men cxehavged glances. Nassam, trained to the task of commaoding Limsel, felt that to say more would be dangerous. Yet, at the same timo, he was convinced, by the charac- ter of the look tbat he bad reccived, that he bad made but little progress, It en defiant and almost aggresaive. Still, bo forced a smile into his anxious face. #I will not ruin your pretty picture thero And X suppose by ioterrupting you any further, ” said he, will go on, and take m » walk, Very well, and I Wflf’ g0 on with my paint- ing.” {And—snd,” added the Rector, stepping away down thio elopo, “*wo agree to think the matter over, do we ¥’ “Yes, wo agree to think the mattor ovar,” re- plied Willia. He raised his head, and looked after tho slen- der figure of his rival, a8 it slowly moved dosn the gay, boflowered slope. «+ Poor dovill " reflected bo ; “it is Incky for him that he did not live in the days when they won wives at the poiot of the swora—he would Dot have earned & milk-maid.” 5 Anotber week passed by. In it Willis showed 00 mercy to Nassau. Ho opened Lis ports, as it were, and declared himself to all who cared to see, With his strong voice, erect and energetic bearing and glowing eye, o Labitually over- rodo the rimpler ond gentler man, and yet ho gave nocuuso for au oOutbreak. Whero Nas— £4u would bave been content to &itin_quiet be- side his sweet mistress, Willis talked graceful geutiment. \Where Nassau would have pondered and have answered gravely, Willis had some- thing decisise to sov. Nassau was satisfied to avoid prominence in mauper and language, but Wil s aiways appeared in the van, and besido enca other they were 8 gray and crimson. “The Lost, who was little elzo than s white- haired boy biself, clave opealy to the tronger vouth, and Nassan, sick ay_heart, felt that the round was elipping away from beneath lum. To walked alune over the billsand dales, prag- ing for mears to combat his enemy, but bo thought that he got no auswer. His little world grow dark to him. There was something incredible in itall. Thero was an clement in the case that scemed 8o mon- strous, so fearfully wrong, thst ho often refused to contomplato it, bub now, thab matters wero Lecoming 80 involved and £o desperate with bim, he was forced to confront it. This was tho conduct and demeanor of Alice herself. 1f ba called and asked for hernow, it was like- 1y that he would be told that she wus strolling with Willis. He kopew that sho praised Willis. Ho had seen her eyes fised upon him, He had seen her give her hand to Willis when sho with- beld it from hum. She gazed at her fatber when- ever ho told of Willis' fortunes at the trout- brooks, or of his long and rapid walks, or of his bold riding, or of his wit. If all these trifles and their kin were indi- cations pegatively adverso to him, there was another set_of tniflcs that told positively ugainst him, Alns! how cagerly, bow aognly, did he catch at them and apply them for his dis- comfort. Sho no longor read with him; no longer visited tho sick with Lim; no longer pratsed his work; no longer emiled rhen ho ap- roved ; no lonfier blushed and turned aside er face a8 she had been wont to do whenever their conversations had led them bap-hazard into strangeconfeesions. She was distant with him ; reseived ; retreating ; anxions; ill at ease, One day he saw ber in the distauco throw herself, weeping, upon her father’s breast, “Ah,"” Baid he to himself, stopping, ‘‘how she loves him !” Hardly had ho thus formulated the thonght, when there opened upon bis confused mind a new prospect. 1t wos a8 if a sudden flash of sualight bad ‘been shot down in the middle of the night. He now saw clearly. Bho loved her father! Straoge that he had overlooked filial love in his contem~ plation of his own lovel Strange that he had been 8o childishly blind! Strange that he had not imagined that her Benso of dury and acconntability might have bad some forca with er. 9 " Ilo falt in a second a4 if ho were walking upon air. Still, wait! Ho must be sure of this. Ho mugt have proofs, He must not make a protest until ho was positive as to his grounds. Hemust look bard and think hard. Anotber day slipped by, and yet another. Alico now forbore fo speak with him. His pain became insupportable, Willis still lsughed aud sang, and his gay voice and kand- sonie presence stul] Gllod the eyes of tho father. Tioally, Alico fied from the garden, When Nessau, Ono afternoon, suddenly entered it. The escapo was precipitato; yef, as she dis- appeared, she turned full upon him & gaze of in- 2seribable mesning. Nassna's soul arosoin arms. But he reflected for one more day. Then he went to search for Willis. o was intent upon making oue more appeal to him. 1f e failed in it, he would hasten to the fath~ er, and, with all the streogth and eloquence that he could command, would beseech him to 1ook mors closely to the complication that seom~ ed 8o dangerous and so fall of wroag. He hastened first to tho old domicite. He found no_one there. It seemed that ‘Willis had gone into tae woods an hour before with bis easel and boxes. +Well, but is not the Doctor in his stady 7" #No, gir ; ha is i the lo.er garden. him say that he was going over near the Whi Tl Pit to ses 1f thore were apy trees there that ho could transplant.” © But Mies Alice ¢ “Sho has gone out, too, sir. She has gone for a walk, I think.” + Alone 2" +Yes, s, sloge. She asked me in which g‘l‘; ction Ler father had gone, aod she follawed ¢+ And is cha well to~-day 2" ++5ho 18 palo—very pale,” AR i Here there was a pause. Tlen Naseau inquired for the direction that ‘Willis had taken. “ He went in :he direction of the White Hill, too, sir. I think he told Miss Alice yestcrday that there was & cll there that he warted to paint.” Nassau doparted oa his search. He sralked rapidly, and took » path across the fields, gazing bore and there at all the copses and groves. The day was brilliant. The sky was clear; a 8oft wind blew over the flalds from tho south, laden with the perfume of fiowers and vines; and the insects bummed under foot, and the rees were alive with singing birds. The rector walked for an bour. - Siill he found 10 traces of the man he scught, or, indeed, of either of the three. Ho gazed down into the valleys and up upon tho sides of the hills, but still fraitlessly, 1o became anxious, and be hurried. He had an_indefinsblo distrust of the circumstances which had bronght Miss Alice and Willis to the same part of the place. He dreaded that he ehonld find them together. Anothier balt-hour passed by. He desconded rapidly a steep inclive, and passed a dense thick~ et, and wa» abons to keop on down intc the val- Ty, when, on turning_his head to look to the right,- he beheld Wilha seated before bis easel. Ho was alone. Nnssau turned abount and walked toward him. They exchnm«l cold salutations. “Iam glad that I have found you,” said Nas- sau._* 1 was searchiug for you.” “Really! Then, in that case, 2 am glad that you have found me."” + T wish fo speak of & Eerious matter.” “Yery well.” Tt i about our relations to each other, and to Miss Alico.” #The old subject, eh ? " sald Willia, lightly. “1¢ you pleaso to call it 80, yes,” returned the er. Well 2™ #1 wish to say barely, and without any preface, that I am convinced that Miss Alice, in her own heart, still befongs to me, and not to s “Thatjs s conviction worth tho having—at least for you. But whatdo you mean?” Willis stopped playing with his brushes. # I mean this—to exproes it conclsely—I mean that what I have observed in the past two weoks has assured mo that Miss Alice has been mado to ngpeu in alight whicli is an uutrno one; that sho has been forced, by her love and regard for her aged fatler, to soem acquicscent in’ & plan EPOD tho consummation of which he has set hig earr.” “Come, come; what do you mean?” cried Willis, with heigbtening color. **Speak out, man. Do not beat the bush!” Do not be ronndabout ! Come to the point! *Yonr maoner agaures me that you understand exactly what I meon! " “1 take 1t that you insinuate that Miss Alica Das been deceiving ma!” 5 1 insinuate oothingof the kind—pardon me.” It was Nassau's turn to redden. “Isay 1 beliove that you uave been deemed by her father fo be a more fitting husbaud for her than I, and that she has followed Ais inclina~ tions in favoring you, rather than her own.” “Tuat belief 18 not only absurd, but it is in- sulting, It is insulting to all of as—to Mliss Alice, to hor father, and to myself.” ** On the contrary—" “What do ficn. found your belief upon? " de- anded Willis, rising from_his camp-chair. What grounds bave you? hat has ever hap- pened, to make you—" 1 know it,” interrapted Nassan,in s low, niid, and earnost voice; I koow it. because 1 have received many proofs of her love for me before you came here; aod, innsmuch 88 I know that she is as sinccre and true aa Svoman ever was, 1 canuot admit suspicion that ‘her consideration for mo could be ?nil:k.ly and totaly displaced by consideration for another person. It iscloar thas her fatherhas great regard foryou, I do not quarrel with him for that. You, no doubt, fill his idea of strongth and character Detter than I do. 3Moreover, you are wealthy, and kmow the world. It'is entiely reasonable that he ehould scloct you a8 one mor fitto receive his treasure thanX Still, Ikoow that I, in spite, of my shortcamings, have earned Miss Alice’s fasor. Upon that [ depend for my bap- pincss, I shall sirive to relsin it in spite of all obstacles. I should be wortbleas without it, It alone can nerva me Lo perform the labors that T have set myself to perform, and I shall cliog to it 80 long s I feol that it exists, Imust prove to you, in some way, thot it does exist. Imust show you, by some means, that the smiles sbe givesto you are given in obedience to her father's “ctear desires, and that they do not come from her heart. You must, bo conviuced, 88 am convinced that she does pot love you, but ihat she loves moj; that it ia the agony of herinward contentions between her heart and ber sense of duty that have caused hercheeks to become so palild, her step so slow, and her voice 50 sad. ‘This i8 not ogotism in me. Itis not the empty boasting of » vain man, or the wild talk of a jealous onc. YonandI aro opposed to each other. I thiok that you have deccived yourself. 1t is my simple and imperative dutyto undeccive & be- Hero Nassau psused. His voico had gun to tremblo in spite of himself. Willis aves wero fixed, half scornfully and half pu’in§~ 1y, upon him. For a moment npthing wad Lo ba heard but the rustle of the leaves iu the wood, the hum of tho locusts, and tha faint voice of the men in the meadows below. The silence was broken by sounds on the farther side of the thicket; thero wers voices and footsteps. 3 Tho two men recognized the former, and thoy exchanged glances. They were the voices of Miss Alica and her father. His was loud and imperious. Hers was low, sofz, and pleading, and yat distinct snd earnest. They seemed to bo walking slowly along the path. 4+ Womanfike ! womanlike! ” cried he. “You aro blind to all the qualities in & man that ‘cell.” Do you see no virtues in Lis oxperience in lifo, in bis obility to protect you in times of danger, in bis power, ia his eaergy 7 Tellme! ” i Yeg—yes—but yet 1 do noklove him, One ‘must go where ono's heart lesds, dear father. One caunot say ‘I mustlova this friend’ or that. Thero is somothing that speaks befors ona can decide.” } * Suppose that 1 exert my right, and decide foryou? Suppose—" b, bat 1 bave only to say, *Idonot love him.’ and then you would not." 4 Are you suro of thac?" “Yes, I am sure.” # Bat will you tell me that you love the other —the minister—still 2" 411 you ask me, I must tell you * yes.'” At this poiat the voices were lost. Tho final ¢yes,' however, was distinct, Both of the invol- untary listeners heard it. They also heard the angry tone of some of the father's un.cuxedinfi words, but the increasing distance prevente them from catching their sense. 3 Willis was deathdy palo. He hung bis hesés and graspod his casel with one hand. 3 “ It secms that you are right,” said he With somathing like fierceness in his tone, 1 Yos,” cchoed tho other, “I am rigdt. Thero was another pause. Williy'color cama ‘back, and he gradually assumed as 8ir of ease. He sit dows bolora hia canvas asin, and smado an attempt at painting. g His wlgpam%n wucghed him. He noticed that ho mixed bis colors_wrongly, and that be was trembling {rom his head to ia feet. | Five minates passed. Nothing was said on cither side. Both dreaded to ntter the impostant words that must come now. . But Nossau. tortured boyond expression, conld train himsslf no longer. “Tell mo, sir, I beg of you. Do you nok see that tho field is mine?” 'Willis glanced furtively at him, and then Jet his hands drop ngtm bis knees. “ Bven if it is, I shall not leave it.” «Wnas! Do yon mean to 53y that you will not 2" 1 cannot I" nt *And why, pray? Why is it that you, who have heard what would drive a msn of “principle aud honor ont of the sight and neanng of tlus place and all the people in ir, feel that you can- ot loavo ua to ou pesco Fd +1 am bappy here." “That is Eot trmo! Y‘un <ean you would be ‘unbappy if you were not rere? & O Gourdo. 1 ahould be ushappy it I wee not here.* K i That is, the poor, ®d smiles that ave been given you bave afforded you o amuch pleasure that you mean 'mill to demaund them even after you bave discovered that they wero Dot sincerg ? You mean to impose yourself upon on— Dy Heavens, eir,” cried Nsssau, car- ried away b_v‘u.i’: excitement, and miu;g to {full bej “then ycu are & COWARD wfi\axsgfi:;ms Yo b feot., Hardlr bad he done 80, whea the whole air waa filled with the vibra- o doep snd terribla fhunder It did nmot come from the sky, for that was closdless; por from beesth, though the ground trembled. It was continuous, and the Garth and trees shuddered a8 if distorbed by a convulsion. A hollow, cavernous roar buret ont, 2o over the topa of the trees, s the distance cf Ao eightt of & mile, the two meu eaw & wido, Geans beiling clond of dust axise, like s cloud of ks from 8 battle-fleld, and slowly overspread mgffiémy, sbove sll the deeper and more awfal poise, thers came s slnill and piercing soream. It wes the indescribanle utterance of a woman in distress. 8 Nassan coed ihe White-Hill Pit!™ tarned and hastened rapidly down the de- e e e followad bim ¢ tho top of kis 'pé‘xfi'hm:, ‘being more powerfal, overtook and iha _athex, and ran oser the crags and 11 broken gronnd with the lightness and swiftness of a deer. They ucmueg the height toward the wooda which concoaled the quarry. Both folt that the next few moments must, in some way, prodace importsnt things for them. Both were nerved and brave, and both wero eager. Willis’ power and agility told iu the race. He burst through the fringe of shrubbery that skirted the pit, while Nassau was still coming on. & huudred yards below. Ha was appaliicd by what he saw. The eartli on the northern side had broken away, and had rushed down over the surface of the rock, sod had fallen into the deep abyss. It had dragged with it an immenso number of trees and eapling At the instant that it was precipitated, Miss Alice aud her fathor wero crossing the groand. As it moved and broke beneath their feot, they became in- volved in the tangled and twisted branches of the trees, and were carriod down with them. ‘The great volume of the avalanche had Zallen into the quarry, but a large portion was caught and poised uflon a spur of rock overhanging tho preeipice at the edge. Tho clouds of dust litted and rolled amay, and tho two young men beheld at the same moment, clinging to this ragged sod sus- pended ent, the gul whose favor they covoted. r arms wero half bared in tho treacherous earth, her clothing was torn and discolored, and ber forehesd had a doep, red wound. Her lips wero palo, her eyes wers closad, as if to shut ont the tcene, and she lay puiuvo, convolaively embracing her only sup- part. The father had escaped bofore tho volume of earth had reached the edge of the piton ita downward_course, snd, covered with dust, ho wow stood upon the brink abave, gazing with atarting eyea at his faintig daughtcr. His white bair blow in the breeze, his imbs 8hook, and he tried in vain to call aloud for help. ' Ho was unable to articlate, and he be- gan to creep toward the edgo. At thisinstant, Willis’ footateps aroused him. He looked np with a cry of joy. | Tho girl was fifty fcet from them. To reach ber from the nearest point would requirg that one descend a precipitous hill of soft and alid- ing earth, which terminated at the edgo of the terrible quarry. Nothing could more dangerous than to attempt to tray- erse this powsed and sensitive ground. Great carp and great merve, added to great good for- tune, would alone enable one to reach the spot where Miss Alico lay breathless and trembling. Tho ecraps of minglod roots and earth npon which she depended were slowly dissolvicg be- neath her, aod tho portions, s thoy fell inta tug quarry, awoke the most bollow aad resonant echacs. Deapairing, she turned her head and looked to her right. She saw Willis. His eyes wers fixed upon hor, but he did not move, She tried to cry: “Come!” but the word escaped her in a whisper. Thera was & moment of silence. SLe saw Willia move a few feet this way, and then = fow feot that way. S5till he did not approsch. He made no motion to advance nearer. Suddenly he turned toward her. She saw that his face was baggard, aud that his eyes were fixed upon the distant, ragged bottom of the pit. Hia ‘hands opened aad closed rapeatedly, and his lips were parted, Her beart beat rapidly. Another moment must end in her destruction. All 2t once she saw Willis throw his hands up before Lis face and retreat, stumbling among the weeds, away from the brink of the goclovity. A deatnly sickness ovorcamo ber. Heor failing ayes_searched the depths below, snd her cou- fused mind refused auy plan for her own ealva- tion. She folt herself ginking by dogress. Suddenly, a volamo of earth and atones rush- od past her with frightfal velocity, and shot out into tho spaco before and below her, and in s few seconds struck npon the broken marble-bed, and sent up a roar that aroused, even in her, s new terror. " Bhe warily and timidly turned her bead to the left to sco what caused this fresh cstastropho, aad sho beheld, half-wsy down thie slove, cling: ing close to the trembling earth, the slendor fig- ure of the Rector. Ho was_bntloss, and his clothing sad hit hands and his face wero coversd wilk soil Yet he soemed to be cool and self-possessed He was almost literslly suspended over death, yet Miss Alico saw that thera waa a smila npon Lis face, His eyes mot hers, - She became filled with coursge, and sh( tightened hor hold. Ho bogan 0 come on sgain. He did no} heai tato longer. Ho was quick snd active, but s gentle as a cat. Now and then he would cronch sahe felt his foothold yield, but he wonld iustantly push oz again in A fresh direction. He arrived within s few feet of her. Her eyos wero fastencd upon him, and-thers waz Bt » motlon of bia body that she did mol watch. He reached up. She_leaned back and extend- ed her hand. The motion disturbed the support that she was perched upon, and she felt that aba was falliog. She remained calm. snd stiv leaned down. Her eyes and Nassan's we® fixed upon each other. ~ Ho touched the tips of Ler fngers. Then ho csught ber hand at the palm, and with ly & perceptible mdtion gave her tho signal that gho syaited. He braced his feet and who lsaped inward, while her foothold broko into & thon- sand atoms and wholly disappeared, 3nd loft tho edgaof tho pit baro and unobstrooed bofore cm. i They were not two yards from it. This last effortof hers was the fnal flazh of her expiring fortitude. Perhaps 8te bermitted her weakness to recoil upon he- the sconer, be- cause she felt that the presonorof Nagsau meant. safety to her. The iustant tiat sbe touched the ground she fell upou it and 2V quict, ) ‘Nassau seizcd ber in bis 5138, snd, gathering all bia strength, faced hipéasic with an eaxions spirit. . g Ho travorsed the fifvon yards with his lips ‘moving in constaut paYer. The venersble fatier, reaching down hishand, e, watched their slow and silant approach wish & face of marble, His eyes flowed with tents, ha stammered incoberently, snd he moved his arm to and fro, just 8s Nnssau's right shonl- dor. or jeit . shouller, came mearer to bim. Witk e half_sob,’ and s balf-exultant cry, o Bos’Y clutched his eager fingers in thie mkirt ori8 deughter’s dresa, ‘Nassa- Siruggled up the last stop, and then Iaid 8 burden upon the fower-besprinkled B7ie other aeized his hand, and, placing b arn shont e, 2l menir Geoun b ha an plma‘!fd his farrowad cheek to hers, and wept alons In o moment more he varned to Nassau, and cried = My dear friend, you have saved two livea in one. You are the man I scek ; you have the brave heart that my poor child will need. I wae on the eve of committing an arror; but, alas! seventy years of life do 80t teach oas all things. Ab, what a mistake thal was! 8o, my hero has fled!—ha bas lu‘é;g! kl'as&d 'I” am uddeceived, aud yet in time. 601 Nn);xam, on his retarn to his home, found this Totier upon his tab® : L Ynup ate right. I am 8 coward The dread of pain to -y heart overcame me first, and then the dread of danger to_my body prevented me from actirs afterward. You have nobly won ¥hat 1 have i¢nobly lost. I cannot sce you zain, much less can I look upon the ultham. % Bu;l., can yon receivs such well-wighes as. can fi“ > o had disappeared secretly. gn liu next evening at twilight, the trio agaia sat st tes in the ancient house. Nay- o 3ad Misa Alice gazed at each other in the obsalrity, from either end of the table, while tho fatter, dimly seen in the gloom, looked toward b Jawn through the wipdows. ' No one spcko Por several moments, Nothing was to be heard Zut the murmur of: the steam 24 it escaped frotn {ho urn, and the cirping of the crickets in the fields without, Al gs were tranquil. sod seemed to bo in waiting, The two youthfui poople sero discrastly &ilent; the otber could pot help saying, a8 if for his conscience’ sako: " It seoms, my children, that my egotism has caused us to muko 3 sort of laogoln onr careors—that is, a sort of roundabout ex- ucsion into the realms of violent passion, whence we have now returned. You owe me your pardoo. Some day I shall ssk you for it— gome day when you shalt bave but a Siugio voice. But, fet ma hope that all is now oing on 88 it was going on_befors ; that the fiatus that I wroogly brought sbout bas mot caused the wretched mischief that Itried tomake. Nassan?” 3 Nassau bowed slightly in the twilight. Thedictator bowed in resposse aud thea turned to his danghter. She had lowered her head, and her faco was hidden. This, bowever, did not prevent him from bow- ing to her, a4 he had to Nsssau. A momeat afser be arose aad walked away, as one does who had settled eatisfactorily, &nd witkout s fault, a great affaxr, ALERRT WEBSTER, JB. —A Vallejo, Cal, business man is 8aid o be the father of the following stanzaa: **Ths drummers came down like wolves ou che fold, their toea were all frosted, their noses all -cold ; their weather-peeled buglet soon shane through tho town ; they gobbled the momey and malted llzz down ; u:—fi:: wog.:d:emlrdanhmd lit out of ere, Wil oir, of business, skind fall of bear™ e