Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 14, 1874, Page 11

THE CHICAGO" DAILY TRIBUNE: METHODISM IN iLLINOIS, rpaupecy Eobert, One of the Veterans of the Church, frontier Theological Training in the Olden Tinte, to Fivo Hours Long. 1 Salary of $64 a Year, and Sormons Tires B fow & Hmnter Was Converted--- The s *President of ths Tract Society,” Corvespondencs of Tha Chicage Tribune. JacssoxviLLs, I, February, 1974 . Chsancey Hobert was one of the noblest men Jerelopst in the old Dlinois Confercnce, His ssther removed with his family from Vetmont at wearly day, while Chauncey and his twin-broth- Norris were boy, and settled in the Military fract, between the Illinois ‘and Missigsippi givers, then an almost unpeopled region. I sink that their home was not far from THE “ D16 stnNG,” shero Danicl Boone spelit the winter of 1797 or Bon his way to. the Missouri, and whero ho was 1 delighted with the country that he well-nigh sanged his mind about crossing the Mississippi, 134 jost ezcaped becoining a citizen of our Siate, Descsibing the country twenty years after, ho wid: “ Wheo I first kmew it, thers were moro taffaloss than ever will be oxen, more wolves. {faa dogs, aud more deer than thers will bo suep.” The buffsloes had disappeared before the ismily from the Green Mountains arrived, but trere were wolves and deer in sbundsnce, with powa0d then » panther and & wildeat ; ,whila potfar off were the wigwams and the hunting- ot the Bacs tlnd Foxes, where Black Fawx and tho Prophot held sway. Growing up oathe frontier, our friend Chauncey, although pasessed of a keen and vigérous intellect, en. jored bt fow lirerary advantages, but such as {dlinhis way he used, and with such energy s talsy the fonndations for ¥ KESPECTABLE ATTAINMENTS IN SCHOLARSIIP, But the schools have not yet brought into this coricalum all it behooved man to know, and maay & wholesome lesson is to be learned in grove snd prairie, in the corn-field and squatter's cabin, in the common. found, the daily task ; aud he who bas learned the use of his eyes and exs, and of the facalties bebind them, has at first-hand the materials out of which books— {hs fest books—are made, and msy perhaps af- fopd to dispense with libraries and colleges. - A resding men is obliged to digest so much chaff that he might fear mental dyapepsia, were we not. spwred that “bran, ehorts, and middlings ” are exeellent dod most nutritious articles of diet. However that msy be, he who gots his learning at the cost of self-denial and gresat exer- tionis apt to board and put it out at large in- terest, and, in the end, may bo richor in knowl- ¢3ge and wisdom than a life-long bookworm. The young Hoberts were trained in those muanly arts and sciénces which are most valued ing new country: labor, courage, self-reliance, fedility of resource, the quick eye andreadyhand, snd in the homely duties and virtues which make sman's best estate.. Ehey were found by soms of fhepioneet Methodist preachere, who, in their jearnerings, rarely missed a settlement; or even alonely cabin; and the brothers becams . NEMBELS OF THE CHULCE. The class-meeting Ims been the training-school far the Methodist pulpit, and, so_far 38 mortal agencies go, has contribiited more than ady other eingle canse to_its efficiency. In tho sim- ple and ballowed exetcise of this broiherly re- o, that most important office wus accom- plished : the barnessing of the tobgue to the Dind, while the heart gained more steadiness from’ epiritual fervor and baptismal emotion. “How Go your Methodist preachers know So much!” eaid a divine of aunother denomi- zation to Bishop Asbary. *“We tell one enather,” was tho old msu's Jaconic answer. The elegs-room is the easy level on which the first, xmd oftentimes thémost salutary and significant, {hieological education takes place; and in the lLight of God's word, and in the unfettgred inter- change of experiences, men como to réad them- seives, and thus_the whole. volume of humsn matare. Charles Wesley states the rationdle: What we have felt and Imown, _ - The graduate of the class, if ho bo moved to prese, is furnished with licese to exhort, and, viug made proof of his gifts, he is furnished with authority to preach, recommended to the Aooual Conference, and geceived on trialas 3 tnaveling preacher. By these gradatione, Chaun-, cer and Norris Hobert entercd the Conference ABOUT FOBTY YEARS AGO, - By reason of failipg bealth, Notris has been laid aside from;time to time from the active duties of the minietrys but Chauncey, more fortunate in the ownerebip of a tough and wiry frame, which defied beat, cold, rain, hunger,—every form of exposure, hardship, and fatigue, —hay lazdly known s day's resfziw from toil inthat long period. His tall, large-boned form, thofl by a head of noble proportions, with a troag, igh brow axd comely face, bas done him foud gervice in his long and arduous itinerancs. Whon one thinks of it, the life of » Methodist traveling preacher is not a mode of existence to becoveted by those who seek ease and self-grati~ Ieation. _A{ first, 3fr. Asbury changed the cir- itaof the prenchers every three, six, or twelve Tonils, sad was of opinion that all, following ts example, ought to remain bachelors, content sith their ealary of £64 per snnum,—which in- taded ali the stockings and other clothing that night bte presented by their followers. This 2eapr pay was next advanced to 89, then to £100s year; but no provision was made fora wile, Later she was taken into acconnt, and an sliovance made her of $100; but-nothing for a » bouse, for fuel, lights, and_tsble-expenses, At ut, {he Stewards of ‘the circuit, whose func- { tions were considered to ba half temporal and alf gpiritnal, were expected to ssscss the sum @ which a preacher’s family could . ISCAPE NAXPDNESS, FREEZING, AND STADVATION, then collect and pay it. ‘“Was your wiie brovght np to washing ?” said 3 Steward, ehiar- tenstic of the olden time, to the new preacher ¥Eohad just come to the “No,” said fheman of the saddle-bags, with some 2spe g $at aha bag been brought down to it eince ahe Zaned » Methoaist preacher.” I thank God foa ree Gospel,” eaid # saint of “The good 9dtimes," rich in this world's goods. *I have i domged'to the Methodist Ghurch forty yesrs, 4adit has never cost me but 25 centa.” “The | have mercy on your etingy old soul,” was fervent ojsculation of his pastor. HI i { sou presched for souls, and mot far Rer"gsid s sneering Steward when his Peacher {old him that he musf have a part of . i3alowance to keep Lis family from want. *“So 180, sid the cr, meekly ; * but wemusts "6 Same money {0 keep our gouls and bodica h We can'y cat souls ; and, if we could, '["a_nli take a great many the size of yours to ‘Wm&hmanhxcalznet." The times bave al- ,’M grestly, and for the betier; jnsomuch that Fppose the Methodist preachers are now ... TUE BESI-PAID BODY o Chwistian ministers in tho country. Db, p:" Jears ago, 1he emoluments were not prince- 2 whoever joined the Conference musk ex- 1 gervice and short rations. saciRaot think wighout dolight of the uncom- lagf—sy, _cheerful—temper of these men, s toils and sacrifices ; and po one of T o2 bome Limself throughont more swect- bezoically than Chauncey Hovert. - eatly gettlement of this couniry, when Iy S pomation was sparse and the worshipers Efln: ed 40 come a long way to charcn, they 3 vap o Bank the preacher for sending thom off it thort sermon. They had itching ears. 4 oy fused to bo, scratched with s brief f % lndui‘ hfire a0t seldom Leu%h discourses i vo hours long, The people "l:d, it not the worth of theirgmoney, atleast Urth of their trouble, in quantity 48 well a8 “ng 3y 12 those sears, I have more than Once Qjoree-feast ai § o'clock m {he morning ; i 2t ®as followed by the baptism of w“d those of riper years, aud that by a Gy g ot Wimilable proportions ; then “the tig o L8 church were opened for the admis- iy gy Wembers, and this was, followed by ligg yoADRt of tho Holy Cominuvion ; and U gy eSS0 Of Peace was pronounced, at i I - BOURS' CONTRN, 2100 adtermong, 12 those daya we ouly took breastfast amd eupper. formed his stylo in thoee daye. aithouss Eioes. mous were never swollen 10 such n vast bulk ; ek, unfortunatoly, he has never been ablo to bring them down within the limite prescribed the impatient ehort-eared hearers of to-day, whiy accord the palm of eloquence to the mag who ‘preaches from fiftcen to thirty minutes. 1t bo could only throw awsy the st thitd or half of Lis diceotizac, and Degin with the forvent interest 21d animation which generally he acquircs only after half or three-quarters of au hour, he wonld e s preachor of intmitable charm and power, Asitis, few men ara so instructive in the pulpit, ith €0 raro a union of intellectual and spiritual oxs‘ellcpcqu in l%heir digcourees, Ta give ap illustration of the kind ‘of *ometimes found in the congregations '13"&’2 ‘proachers on the froutier, let me tell A buater, famed for. i . 9, ed for enco il Indmna,hnnd algo with the m“ggn:gmn!}: :g: border, happened one day—after haviog sottled a fist-dispute, in which he soundly pammeled his sdvefsary—to drop in at & log-cabin whero & backwoods | cireuit-rider was holding forth, Plac- ing bis rifle in the corner, hio Fook his atand bebing the door, without divesting himeelf of the coon-skin cap, ihe bullet-pouch and powder- horn, with which his person wns ornsmented, end listoned with the utmost interest to the teristic, homely sermon. The preacher used simple Baxon, and ‘spoko of things which {ho people understood and felt. His pictures of the condutct and charaater of a sinner wore o' vividly from life that opr huater was satiafled that kis]ate beaten antzgonist had boen telling the preacher all abont him. He therofore, in bis'wrath, gwore inwardly that he would whip him worse than before, a4 soon as chureh was over. The germon went on; the appoals wero more pointed and powerful, and personal too as the hunter thought ; until at last the preachor fervently exclaimed, * Sinver, whers are yon ' Kk RERE.Y 1 B BRid the convicted hunter, stepping formand in his decrskin hunting-shirt, legeings, and‘moc- casing, whila the great tears couraed each othar down his weather-benten checks, The preacher told him what he must do to be saved ; and the frontiersman, shouldering bis rifle, started on his long tramp for home. Ho tried o throw off the woight of ‘his concern, but in vain. He triad to shoot it _away, but his rifle missed fre, or €lso ho missed the deer and turkeys, Reaching home after night. his kind-heartod wife soon dis- covered that there was something wrong, but could get nothing out of him saye that * Ho felt ighty bad, and e was afeard that it was gone- dsy with him.” Bho said, in much 3 4 John, why don't you o to the Doctor and get some etuf? 3> He answered, with » groaa, * Oh Nancy! no Doctor's stoff "l do mo any 'good.” He could neither et nor sleep, and before day ho was off again with his_rifie. Kneeling down in the wooda to pray, as he had done frequently the ddy before, hio at Jast found peace in believ- g, Rising with a_¢hont, he made a_bee-line for howme on the run, ‘crying to his wife, who camo to meet him, * Nancy, g IT'3 AS PLAIX 1S TmAT,” putting hisf hands together beforo*him ; and he mada it so plain to her, and to twenty or tkirty of his neighbors, that they were all_converted and joined the Church with him. Fifty years afterwards, hotold the storyin & love-feast ; and, through the half-century, all who kncr him wos' satisfied thut he adorned his profession by a_pious walk and s goBly conversation. The saintly old man in whoin that great change wa§ wrought died only a few years azo, in one of our Western couucies Chauncey Hobert had alwaya had & passion for the frontier, and, Jiko Aorcham Lincoln, s love for tho plain poople. After filling ncarly all tho principal appointments in this Conference, he waa tiansferred to the Rock River; and I re- member to have fecn him when stafioned in the old Clark Street Church, Chicago, zs far back as 1846, Thonce ho was geut to Wisconsin, =nd thence to Minnesota, - ‘WHERE ME 18 STILL FREACITING ““in the region beyond.” By his sturdy and in- trepid character and his apostolic Jabory, he has won for himself tho titla of “The Durr-Qak Bishop.” Porhaps I might venture to whisper my opinion, that tho Gencral Confererce would bave dono itself credit by electing him to the Episcopacy years ago ; for I Rold that no man in the counection is more worthy or bobter quali- fied for the place. Beforc taking Icave of him, I may add a story or two characteristic of the earlier days. Within the boands of one of Chauncey's first circait, wos a little village, into which bad re- cently removed some people of the better class from Now Englind. As Le walked forth, onve, at eveatido, to meditate on the €dge of the settlement, his ear was caught by a concord of sweet sounds borne upon the breeze. o stopped to listen, and cxckamed with rap- ture, - Was ever tuch & set of sheep-beils heard?” Howas listening to arpiano-fofte for the first time, . Hero ia another: One day, finding his boots in a Jeaky coudition, he stopped at tho shop of a fronticr-cobbler toget them repaired. While thegon of Crispin Was st work with awl and hammer, another perscn entercd, who, gazing with fixed attention st the pedal cxiremities of my friend, exclaimed, with mingled s tonishment and admiration, “ Well, 1 never! Stranger, T DESIGX IN YOUR Fivon!” +T bog your pardon.” said the pro-tempore bootless divine; “I don't comprehend youw.” ++ Howsomgdever, notwithstanding,” replicd the other, *‘IYesign toyou. You see, I have al- ways been called President of the Tracs Society in these parts, becanse the peoplé eaid my feet was 88 lurg a8 good-sized spadea ; but I give in, far I ewear never see & msn of such powerful undorstanding a8 you.” DipArPER. A CONCEIT. O touch that roscbud ! it will bloom— My lady fair ! A passionate red in dim green glopm, +,AJoy, asplendor, a perfume, - i " That sleeps in air, ‘You touched my heart : it gave a thrill Just like a rose That opens at aJady’s will : It bloom s always yours until You bid it close. —~3lortimer Collins. Drinking Warm Blood. i From the Loston Journal, Mention was mado recently of a gentleman in a very feeble state of health,, who had been for some timo st the -Butchers' Abattoir in Brighton for medical treatment, eimply drink- inga half tumblerfal of warm blood twico » dsy. This course the 'gentleman, Mr. C. H. Stickney, whe ie willing that his pame shall appear, has followed until a week ago, baving been there ten weeks, snd during that iime gained ten pounds in weight, and. to use his own wawds, “ My appetits i3 good; I slesp well, and feel like a new man, and 1 am soon to commence business again in Boston.” He also says that there are ten or twelve others there, drinking the blood, all of whom are gain- ing under his treatment. One gentleman from Boston, & consumptive, 80 feeble that it was with difficulty he could get to this abattoir, is now able to Lsdls snad killtutly enough to ** knock down a bullock.” A lady from the city who has been sick six years, stricken with paralysis, is improving wonderfally by this ** blood cure.” A gratifsing feature of this cure is that it is “ with out maney and without price. - i Thonght the Name Was Familiar.,” An amusing incident occurred st & recent White House levee. As Somator Bogy, Bart ‘Able,.and old Vap, of Kansas City, entcred the blue-‘room they met Gov. Hendricks, who held out his hand .fo_tho Senator, saying, * Good evening Benator Bogy, I am glad to_ses you.” The Sendtor looked at the Governor inquiringls. #1 know your face,” bo said; “it is quite fa- Aniliar, but { can't call your name.” Keplicd the Govornor: My name is Hendricks.” *‘Hen- dricks, Hendricks ?” mused the Senator from Misponri; “tho psme is familiar, bot I can't call vou to mind. What State. aro vou from?® “I am from Indiana,” was tlio Uland and somewhat amused response of the Governor. _* Indisna, Indiana 2" mused Mr. Dogy. * What district do' you represent ?” Ob," snid Hendriks, waintaining sn ‘u&m.;; le gravity under the circum x e toos Gf Todiana.” OB, responded tho Senator from Missouri, */ I thought the name \vas familior. I am glad to se you; Gov. Hen- dricks."— Washington Letter to 5. Louis Repub- fican. Life in Davidson County, Tenn. From the Nashville Banner. When Botos srrived opposite Joseph Briloy snd partner, he said: * Lok a-here, I'm going {0 shoot; I'm going to kill somebody.” As he eaid that, - Josepls Briley eaid, * Well, shoot, fhen,” and he hisd not faitly gotten the words ont of bis mouth befora Hates sent a leaden aanger through his heart. Briley, clapping s hand upon bis sheart, staggerad back said, +Oh, my God! ob, my God!” and _fell back dead. Bates then commauded, *Everybody stand back! The first one that Isys his hand Tipoume I will serve in the same way,” and nith 1his walked out iuto the yard, every oge in the room standing back astonished at what bad oc- Tarred. After be bad reached the sard, Bates said: **There is one more of the family I want o kill,” referring to Robart Briley, who yet re- e i6d in the houss, and then be left for parcs TukBOWE. ‘comfortable. He and his wife roceived ms in a HANS- CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. An Extract -trom His Antoblog- Ingidents of a Visit to Grest Britain From " The Story of My Life” My stay in Scotland was not sucha restas I bad belioved; . I waa not much sirengthened: after hiving " spent aboat three weeks nere, and no better than when Icame up. Besides, well- informed people, as I belioved they were, told me that there was no deceot inn here for sov- eral miles ; that it was necessary for me (o en- gage aservant; in short, that I ehould live in better style than my purse would allow. To write to King Christian VIIL, who had kindly offered to support. me, I could not bring myself tado, 23 T had verbally declined to accep that favor, and now weeks wonld paea before I could get an answer.. It was veal torture! Iwrotes Jetter home, told them bow I was, and thatI thoughs it best fox me to retarn home, 15 1 also did, but X was obliged theroby to refnsa various invitations which I reccived from goma of Bcot- land's wealthy nability to visit their homes. I ‘was deprived of the pleasure of sceing Abbots- ford, to which place I had , letter of introduc- tion. Walter Scott's son-in-law, Lockhart, whose guest I had beenin Londan, had received me very kindly and affectipnately. His daugh- iey, the grandfather's dacling, bad tald me of her dear grandfsather. At her house I had scen reliea which bad belonged to the great post,— his magnificent life-iike picture, a8 he sita with bis dog Maids, gazing on me. Miss Lockbart presented me o fac-simue of him who once was called the Great Unknown. Abbotsford bad' to be given up, ssaled Loch Laggen, snd I return- ed "homoward dejected, leaving Glasgow for Edinburgh. 1 must tell an event, in itself very jnsignificant, bat to me a new hint of that fortunate star which sbines over ma jo what is little as well ag oat. Dyriog my last stay ip Naples I had ousist & plsin caua mado of palm, which had accompanied me on me travels, and thus to Scotland also; when I drove with Hambro's family over the heath between Loch Katrine snd TLoch Lomond, one of the boys, had taken my cane to play with, and, when we came within gight of Loch Lomond, ho lifted it ap in tho air and exclaimed : *“Palm, do you sce tho highoet Scotch mountain? Do you see thers the wido tho waters was very rapld; the great sands, where p many_shipwrecked salors® bones re- pase, rose up ‘mightily ; the lantern in the light- 0use was lighted, We talked of Denmark and ]Dnnmh liternture, of Germany and the German an 3 * I zaphy play ontside doring dinner; Dickens spoke Ital- an” with the man, whose face was radiantat hearing his children were brought in. thep! ” gaid Dickens; there were no less than five, the sixth was not at home ; all the childron kisged me, and the yonngest one kiesed his little haud apd threw mea kiss. When the coffee was brought in a young lzdy came ns guest. “She 18 one of your admirers,” eaid Dickens fo moj; he had promized to invite her when I came. Tha evening passed very quickly. secmed 1o bo of abont the same age a8 her hue- Dand, a little fleshy, and with such o very hongst and good-lookin{; countenanco_that ove would immedintely feel c c ; great admiter of Jenny Lind, and wished moch to havo a bit of her handwriting, but it was very dificult to get. I had by me the littls letter Jenny Lind hiad sent me on my armival in Lon- don, to bid me welcome and tell mo where shs lived ; 1 gave thisnow o Mre, Dickens. parted lat in tha evening, and Dickens protised that he would write tg were to maet ench otfer J urs, for Dickens surprited mo by coming to Ramsgate the following morring, and was on the quny when I went on bor bid you farewell once more companied me on board, romainivg by the bell gavo tho signal for departuro, We shook bands, he looked with his earnest eyes into mine, and when the ship started be sto edge of the quay, 80 sturdy, 80 youthfnl® and Lsndsome! Ho waved his Bat. Dickens was the Tast opo who gava mo a fricnd's greeting from the dear English cosst. e, which Dickens meant to leamn; an an organ-grinder happened to come and other-tongus. After dinner the “e bave plenty of Mrs. Dickens onfidenca in her. She wos a We mé'in Deomark, But we cr sgain Lefore hy depart- 4T wisbed to sid he, and ac- me until on the very TRUE LOVE. 1 would that every angry shaft . From Trouble’s hitter sheaf, Wauld wing its flight to pierce my heart, o give to thine Telief” T wuld that every 1l and woe, And every carking care, ‘Wonld farce thels way withia my breast, ‘That I far thee might beas, T'd gental deem the icy chill, - The biting frost and cold, The stormy tempest, love,'if thon Wert sheltered in the fold. It my frail bark were tossed sbout, Of angry waves tho sport, Calm un on glassy Iake, L'd foel, 1 thon wert safa in part. And i thy cholce o'er me ahould pass, To bless snother’s 1ife, ‘His truest friend I'd ever be, eea?” and 80 on; and I promised that the cano, | . Decsuse thou wert his wite, when it should ‘sgain Visit Naples with me, | ~Chamberd Jowrnal. sbould tell his comrados about the land of mist, 5 FASHION whero fho epirits of Ossian lived,—of tho land where the red thistle-Cower was honored, sct npukfius in the heraldic arms for pcoplo and Jaud. The steambont arrived . sooner “than we. had expected, and we were called upon in o hurry to coma ou board. ‘‘ Where ig my cane " Tasked. It Lad beou loft behind in the iun; when the boat which bronght us to the north end of tho lake returnod, 1 requested Mr. Pug- goard, when he went sshore, fo take the ¢ene with him to Denmark. Iarrived o Edinburgh, and in the morming I stood apen the platform at the depot waiting to go from there to London, when tge traio from the north amived a fow minutes before the departure of our train. The conductor slighted, cane up to me, seemed to knoyw me, and delivered mo my. cane, while he cmilingly' eaid, It has traveled very well alone!”" A littlo label was_attached to it, with the inscription, * The Danish poef, Hans Chris~ tian Andersen ! and they bad taken such caroof it-that the cane had paseed from baod to hand, tirst with the steamboat an Loch Lomond, then with an omuibus-conductor, after that by steam- bont again, and now by a railwey train, only by ‘weans of its lictle address-label; it reached my hands juat as the signal was given to wtare.. I am stul under obligation ta tell tha advontures of tho cane; I wish I might some time do it a8 well as it made its journcy ! I went sonthwarg by way of Nawcastle and York. In the carriage I met the English suthor Hook and his wife ; they knew me, and told mo that ail the Scotch newspapers bad mertioned my stay with tho Queen !—1, who had nover been tbero.st all! The newspapors knew if, and one of them said that I bad read aloud my stories, vet not 3 wond of it was trme. 1 bought at ond of the stations tho most recent copy of Punch. 1t was menticoed there; it bad a'sally, a lLittle remark, about a foreigner, a poet’ from abroad, being honored by an invitation from the Queen that had never been bestowed on any English author. Thatand various other reports of a visit which never was.realized tormented mo. Spealing of that witty paper, Punch, one of my fellow-travolers eaid, *That it wos a sign of great popularity to be spoken of in it, ana that many a0 Englishman would pay bis pounds to come to that!" I would rather prefer to be ex- empt from it; low-epivited and depreascd by the publicity, I arrived at London Rt 1 romained & couple of days in London. 1 had still not secn anything there but high lifo, and several of the country’s most excellent mon and women ; galleries, muscums; 3nd all such things were on the contrary new to mo; I had not even had time to visit the Tunnel. Larly oue morn~ ing I decided to go tosceit: I was advited to o by one of the many small stcamers which are running up sod down the Thnmes through the city, but I felt so il just 08 T kiarted out, that T gavé up the long excarzion to the Tunnel, and 1t may be that my life was saved thereby ; for on the game day, and at the very hour I was to bave gone an board, ope of the steamers, the Cricket, was blown up With 100 passengers. The report of the disastor vas immediately spread over all London, and, although it wasnot atall certain that I should have goue by just this boat, ssill the possibility, oven the probability, was 5o near, that I became solemnly and: gratefully im- pressed, and thanked my God for the illness that overcamo me shortly before the moment when I ehould Lave gone on board, Bociety had now left London, the opera wes are foing out of fashion, of the waist is fastened with hooks and eyes ; and down the froot, instend of buttons, are placed s row of small bows made of the same material a8 tho drees. preity. Tha ides, we underetand, is ©im- rage. They are much small used Iast “summer, snd. not bnlf as awkward- looking. handsomest, on gilt or ivory sticks. The old swaoe' Jown fans in use during the days of our grandmothers are also coming in fashion again. dresses ot the bel imitation of our aristocratic cousins in London. It is o pretty and graceful fusbion when not overdone, a8 it_wasat the Charity and Infant Asylum balis. Marabout feathers are most in favor smong the leading ladios of fashion, for they ara expensizo, and & few Iadies can **get up a corer” in Marabont. " From the New York Matl, Japaneso silks will be more fashionable next summer than they have ever been, we hear.’ Som> of tho mow patterns aro excesdingly prel:y, and for eveping dresses will *‘ make up lovely." : H e many otber things, buttons on dresses Nowadaya® the front The effect is quito reed. ~—The naw feather fans -Fpeu to be guite the er in eize than those Thoee of peacock-feathiera sro the —Vines of natural or artificial flowers aro u30d to trim evening drosses with besntiful ef- fect, thoy being made to simnlate overskiris, apron-fronts, couri-trains, etc., in_tho most charming style. Jies Dyas, in “Folline,” ay the Tifth' Avouue Thentre, is said to have originated the idea. ninments of the —Among the unique én soason are “ Dickens parties,” the invited guests being requested to_sppear in some character mode celebrated by the late Mr. Dickens. Soveral bave already been given on_extensive gcales, and all proved most successful and en- vable. It is about time for something new in tho entertaining line, for **kettledruma” and Germans are becoming almost monotonous. —Teatbers are quite commonly nsod as heod- and pattiea this ecason, in ~—TFewer Germans have boon given this season than over before, and at those that have been given only floral *‘favors" are distributed in profusion. C it was a vory expensive entertainment, tho ™ fa- vors " often’ roquiring especialiy if the “favors™ wera intended to be retained by the gucsts as souvenirs, and tho h\?flns& desired her German to be *talked about.” As the German was given lat year eat financial_outlay, ~—~Charlotte Corday hats Bavo taken the place of the questionable Rabagas. The former is- a very large affair turning up on one side and down on the other. - imaginable manner, and with almost everything, from a bunch of roses to a pound or two of mia- ‘celluneons feathers, mixed with a dollar’s worth of chay tion ™ whether these hats will remain in foshion among Indies for any protracted period. “They aro trimmed in every Xnick-knacks. 1t is an ‘‘open ques- —The bride's cake at a Tecent wodding repre- sented a church with' the traditional **bappy couplo” coming ont of the door arm-in-arm. “The edifico was & feet high, and stood on s vel- vet scarlot standard. Tho candy bride and bride- groom were drossed in real clothes, the lace on the.former's dress being gennino round point. The whole affair-was vers sweet. To get a the cake, howover, it will bo necessary to demolish closed, mos of my bost {riends tnd teft for L2 | iho church, and the motherin-law concerned is ferent wotering-places or for the Continent. longed for Denmark, and for mydear ones there; but hefore I took leave of England I was invited to spend a few days moaro in the country, at *‘ Seven Oaks,” at tho house of my publishér, Alr. Richard Bentley. Thbat littlo town, near by Enowle's renowned park, is git~ uated not far from the railway to the English Channel; it wis forme then a very convenient and agreeable visit to make on my way home. I hnd been before at Seven Oaks, which is a pret- ty little town. This time I wen} by railway to Tunbridge, where. Bentley's carriage was sent for me. Danish nature waa all sbout me; the country was varied with beautifal hills, on which Lere and there stood munf old trece, that ren- dered tho whle landscape like a park; hedges or an iron fence formod the boundary. Elegant and comfortablo rooms, roses and evergreen in the garden, closa by {he celebrated Knowle Park, whose old castle belongs to the Earl of Amberst. One of the possessor’s ancestors was a pact, and in hig honor ono of the saloons is called tha poet-saloon ; hiere is the portrait of that old, right honorable Lord, the poet, in full length, and the portraits of other famous poets adorn the other walls, a8 if for company for the reigning poet. In one of the meighboring Dhouseswas & costtmor-shop, just like the Oid Curiosity Skop which Dickens has painted for us in * Master Humphrey's Clock.” The doy passed away like a feast for me among those kind peo~ plo; I became familiar with that genuine old English, excellent famils-life, where was fonnd all the comfort that wealth and kirduess can create. JHow much I needed tranquility and reposo aftor the great exertion which my m,; in_Eng- land snd Scotland bad occacianed. If I was weary and exnsusted, still I {elt—and how could it be otherwise 7—a grest eadness at leaving so many who bad offered me so much plessure and done me so much good. Among many of thoss whom I Joved and should not £ee ogain, at least for long time, was Charles Dickens. He A siocs our acquaintance ¢t Lady Blessington's, called npon me without finding me at home. We did not meet again in London ; I received a fow lesters from him, and he brought meall bis worka in & beautiful illustrated edition, and in every volume honored me by writing: ** Hans Christisn Andersen, from Lis friend and ad-+ mirer, Cbatles Dickens.” They told mo that he and his wife and children were at the sea-side somwhere on the Chaunel, but t-ll?' did not know whore. I resolved togo from Iamsgate-| Ly way of Ostend, and wrote s letter to Dick- eny’ sddress, hoping that it would find him, and told him the day and hour I expecied to ar- rive at Ramsgate, and asked him to give his ad- dress in the hotel I was to stop at; then if ho did not live too far away I would come and see him and once more meet him. the * Royal Onk” was a letter from Dickens; he lived about one Danishmile from there at Broadstairs andbe and lus wife espected mo to dinner; I took a carringe and drove to that littlo town noar the sea. Dickens omngied a whole house him- self ; it wae narrow and_confined, but neat and very kind mapner. It was so pleasaat within that it was & long time before I perceived how beaotifal was the view from the «dining-room, ~where we 8at 3 the windows faced the, Channel, the open searolled its waves beneath them. ‘hile we dined the tide ebbed ; the falling of That thou art done with earthly Lottery, is nowmn jail. number of stealing and swindling operations, whereby ho made much money. games was to Jay the sub-colleciors under con- tribution, and ‘biackmail them; snother’ pet scheme was the distribution of lotters-tickets, with a commisaion of 25 cents on each for him- solf. But, as these plans only brought such emall amounts a5 from 33,000 to $9,060 a month, he kept all the unsold tickets in hig desk, aud, if a0 ok‘blhefixid i through a ¢ party and gat the fonds. - It is also stated that he kept some of the vumbers aut of the globes, snd then purchased the tickets boaring these numbers, calling them out st the drawing a8 baving drawn prizes. of lottery-ticksts do not fike the way they bave ‘boen treated, but they have no right zi if if they are cheated while gambling, under the ilgi)remion that ench a proceeding would be sac: oge. SOMEWHERE. Howean I cease to pray for thea? Somewhero In Go’s great universe thou art to-day. Can He not reach thee with His fender care? Can Ho 1ot hest me when for thee I pray 2 What matters it o Him who holds within The boliow of His band all worlds, all space, n and ein ¥ Somewhers within bis ken thou bast a place ! Somewhere thou liveat, and hast need of Him; Somewhere thy sonl sces higher heighls to climb; And romewhere stil), there may be valleys dim That thou must pace to reach the hills sublime. Thep all fhe more, because thon canst not hear Poor, human words of blessing, will I pray, O true, brave heart, God bless thee, whercsos'er ' In His great universe thon art to-day ! —Julia C. R, Dorr in seribner'e. e The Exngzeration of Wealth. _ Erowm the Cincinnati Commercial, The rich Hebrew, Jacob Stiner, who was burned to death, with ns wife and danghter, in New York, a few days ago, Eosed ta be & millionaire, bad always been fup- d to | but it bad been_found, )y his will, that his personal property did not exceed $100,000, aud that his real estate, which s in his wife's name, was nob worth more than £35,000. We suepect that similar revela- tiona might be made in the case of & other men, in New York and other places, who are reputed millionaires, is Dot nearly as great a8 is supposed by those who tall looscly about millions. Some years ago when there wos sn income tax which compalled peoplo to make revelations about their property, thiere was of- ten much surprige expressed at the statements swarn to by men whom everybody had supposed to be enormously wealthy. In many cases they were accused of falsification, and donbtless some of them were guilty of it; but in many other cases the surprising statements mado wero quite true, It was tho public who had formed the exaggerated ideaa of their 'wealth, and not thoy who misrepresented it. Thero were more of these surpriaing revelations in New York than anywhere elge. oat many Swindics in the Havana Lottery. "nwvma Correspondence of the New York Times, BIr, Valero, the Administrator of the Hsvans ‘He is charged with Oneof his drew prizes, be preeented them Tho buyers complain AN"ARTIST’S . DREAM, " From Fraser's Magazine, A summer morniog at Dresden is one of the pleasaptest, brightest things in nature. Ope who walks through the streets encounters's con- stant streant, stirring yot not turbulent, of busy- Yifo: the cheerful aspect given by the warm san to the surrqunding houses; the movement and bastle of the open market-placo, whose walla look down' on the bargaining snd chaffer- ing beneath, just for all the world 88 they ' looked down ~when Canaletto painted . them, thus lending the grace of the past to the vigor of the present; the passing glimpsea caught i the little squares or places of leafy trees and plashing fonntains re- leving the pictore of homan indnstry with touches of natural beauty ; all theso make a combination of DELIGUTPCL SIGHTS AND 80UNDS which can hardly be surpassed. Or, if the trav~ eler is yeary of the presence of his kind, and would be alone with the Great Mother, he can stroll down to the banks of the Elbe, and con~ template the quios place of tho noisy stream, as its waters flow by bim in a brosd, atrong cur- rent. The timber-rafts—with litie log-huts built upon them, which it bears down to their destination, guided and in- babited by men who have cut the timber from ‘ita pative forest, and who thus finds in tho loga house-room, means of travel- ing, and merchandise combined—have such smple Toom on the bosom of the wido river that they givean added motion toita beauty without miurring the sense of solitnde. Or, does the wanderer prefer YATURE MIREORED AND IDEALIZED BY ART,— Nature reflected for him in the magic glass which shows its beauties and cunceals its de- fects,—to Nature seen by the unaided light of his own cyes, then he can pass from the heat and brilliancy of the oumtside world to the cool atmosphere and subdued light of that gal- lery, which is an inexhsustible source of wealth to the art-student. This was the conrse chosen, on one morning such a8 we have described, by Rupart Graham, a young painter residont in Presden, who, stroll- ing first through the other galleries to accustom Lis eye to form and color, rested at length in the sbrine of tho . MADONYA DI SAN EISTO, and_worshiped -the mighty. genius who gave to the world that wondrous picture of & beauty more than humanly perfect, of “a strepgth and ., purity which : cannot be less than Divine. The young artist glzed at this with a sort of adoration ; his whole eing concentrated itself in the act of looking, until his eyes seemed fixed u&on their object as aro the bird’s on the rnttlesnake's or “the patient’s on the meemerist’s ; his scnses wero ynsble to comprehend soything clee in the world ; the aniverse for him was that pictura and nothing else, the cartaing and walls which surrounded the );lintiug secmed to fade mysteri- ously away, ind leave it and him suspended in some remote mid-air, 1In this state of mind, one probably reeembling tho so-called tranco of ' tho clsirvoyaut (fot, 8a o never lost sight of the picture, but only saw & transformatior take place around it, it “ecould bardly b an ordinary slumber), 2 4 STRANGE VISIONX came to him. Accessories and surroundings of furniture grew again round the picture, but they were not those which naturally belonged to it. Ho scemed to ece it repozing upon o easel raized on a sort of throne in a painter’s studio. The chairs and ‘sofas, the canvoses on the walls, the litter on the floor, ecemed all strapgely familiar to bim, and be was about to look round for the owuer of the studio,—when—0 wonder of wonders it come to bim, a3 if by slow degreea of lizht, that the studio was his ovn, and that this man, who was ‘worn out with loié but cxalted with joy at its result, who looked now with a creator's” love at the work of his heart and hands, aud now re- gudcd it with a mysterious awe, a8 though ho elt that in executing it he had been but the means for some Divino inspiration—~this man was * NONE OTHER THAN UDMSELF 3 and, as Lie recognized the facs, tears of happ ness welled into his eyes. He remembered bow long, bow patiently, he had worked at ie this ong painfing, nto which be in- tended to ‘tbrow gl his goul, sll his strength; ho remembered hos, on ono duk day, when Lis eye aud hand were véary, nd his heatt began to sink with the deep despiur of reaction that artists must pass through, a sudden flood of joyous sunlight had streamed in at the window, breaking through the pall of clouds, spreading around him and his cauvag, wrapping them in a celestial glory, and, far more than this, picrcing with its warm beams to his chilled heart, bringing, as it seemed to his very soul, a new birth of pereeption and power, A DIVINE LREATH OF GENIUS. He had turned cold and pale all over for a oment, and lood dumb as one who his seen a vision of more than mortal powar ; then, with a buret of happincss, his strength and his ho bad returped to him, and from that moment he bad never fl.’xgged in his work; it had been dearer to him thsu hislife ; it had been to him what wifo and children may be to other men; it bad abgorbed all his thought, all his caergy. Did doubt or fear of any kind oppress him ; did the weight of care for & moment bang on hia arm and retard its desire to work,—he had but to égnk up af the picture, and it scemed to him ag > HEAVEN ITSELF shone down in conteat, and gare him' courage to work on. > And he had worked on unceasingly,~might even bave worked too long perhaps, and injured the picturo by too much elaboration, but that the samo sort of feeling which ho bad slways re- gerded a3 2 mysterious inspiration hod come to bim bgain and struck him motionless far a minute; and then ooking at the picture, ho eaid, “It is enough,” and laid down bis brush. Aund'now lus work_wes complete: it stood in perfect_glory on bis enscl: at times ho conld with difficulty beliove that it was really there, or that, if it was, he had had any sbare in its pro- duction; at olhers he folt as if it were IS OWXN INNOST LIFE AND S0UL, strangely changed and glorified, that gtood there before him. ‘There it was, however, and there was he, expecting visits from some of the great mastens of painting 20d criticism, of pencil and pen, who ruled tho tasto of the diy ; for he had been apxious that 80 great & work should be seen a8 s00n ag possible, not for tho sske of his own fame, for ho had quite_forgotten himself 28 sn individual and lived only in tho picture, but for the sake of art and artists ; and nnder this con- viction be had eent outcards of invitation assoon asbe could. As he stood pondering, thinki with dnfi{;hi of the wonder and tho sdmiration that would ateal into tho faces of those who Tooked on thé picture, of the GREAT CBY OF 30T that would go up from the world of art when they sarw such a tressure, there came a koock at the door, and ho was recalled to himself by the voice of a great pginter sddressing him by name snd bidding Lim good moruing, *So,” said this gentleman in a cheerful, busy tone, * tho pic- ture is finished,” Let's have a look at it." an he spoke, ho sdvanced and contemplated the canvas from the most fayorable light. Tho artist watched bis face in bappy expectation ; aud, in place of the sudden wonder and joy that ho hoped to Boe spresd over if, be perceived a strange expression of doubt and dissatisfac- tion come over the features. The eyebrows as- cended for & moment, whila the mouth roanded itaelf in complacent superiority ; then ihe brow puckered into a frown of discontent, tha bead shook to and froin pity, and the oracle spoke. A great advance in your drawing,” eaid be; “reaily very correct on the whole: but—but what could possess you to choose such a sub- ject? Anything SO VAGUF, 50 SENTIMENTAL, Inever saw. There's awantof apy fangible mesning in the whole thing: it's a preity roup In somo ways; and if you'd taken e main idea of " the composition for o {amily portraié, it would bave dope very well. But the color, my dear fellow—the color! It looks a3 if you'd been afraid of ‘your palette ; those pale, sickly hues will never etand the tesl of time ; and that eaflron robe on the left! And these cherubs, or whatever they sré—vagie— very vague—ao definition about them, no strong Iincs, aud no stroog colors. ' No, ng, my dear Grabiam, if you'l take my advice—~which 1 really give ouag & friend, for I take sn interest in som, and believe you will do good work some day Zsou’l TURN TIUS TO THE WALL and regard it a3 a lesson in drawing. Now, don't be oficnded with me for epeaking the truth. Good-bye, old fellow; I've got helf a dozen studios” to look st before dinner.” And with theso words the great painter swung chcerfully away, lesvingthe young artist spevchless with rage and disappointmeut. “Can it be possible?” he asked himself. ‘Have I been £0 bittetly mistaken all this time? 1y thero not, after all, the real light of geniua in my work ? 'Ou, yee,” he cried, as he looked at it'again, ‘it i3 not s mistake; I feelittoo doeply for that ; and, although all the painters {‘: the world abuse it, T shall' still believe in its auty.” gt ¢ Nug came snother kmock' at the door,and’ anosher painter of Efilt repute entered. He went up to look at the dpictnre, and regarded it with his head on one side, in & thven.] msn~ ner, for some time, *‘I think, Mr. Grabam,” he eaid at length, “if you want my real opinion, I" think thers i='s good deal of merit in yonr pic- ture : the expression is decidedly good—yes, do~ cidedly good; but for the rest—you see YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN :hxl &hu great object of Art is to reprodice Na- ure. . The artist mmrmured something humbly about ideslizing Nature. £ “Tdealize by all means, mydear Mr. Graham,” #aid the other, *4 idealize 23 much a8 yon can, bot do not forget to preserve a certain yerisimilitude. When we talk of reproducing Natire, we mean reproducing all objects, patural or artificial which we find in Nature, Now amonp artifici objects' is drapery, my dear Mr. Graham,—is drapery. And let me just ask yon if you ever anywhers saw any draperien like those 2" This question the painter asked with the air of o man whose most tender feclings have been hart, and went on, without waiting for an answer: 1 do not uhq 1t ix easy 10 be accurate, but accnracy is wors! A GREAT DEAL O TROUBLE. Perhaps yon will bo surprised to Lear that 1 spent (hrce months in traveling t obtain proper suthority, indubitable suthority, for the'centu- vion's srmor in my- last Roman picture. And then it is ko easy to throw in an object of furni- ture or what nat that helangs to the time of your picture—a biblot na the Freach call it—here and there. If gives a local 4nd nutiquarian color, and is_of great value—of immense valud, my dear Mr. Graham. Are you going to send thin to the Academy? Yes? Ah! Good morning.” ‘To this eminent painter sncceeded an eminent. critic who was Dot a painter; ‘and from his judgment, free from. the trammels which actnal exporience of Ard may bring with it, the artist hoped for greater appiobation, Real Bp- precintion, after what he had already heard, he could carcely expoct, This critic ‘the artist, with much condescension, snd looked st the picture from every point of view, He look~ ¢d at it standing aud he looked at it knesling ; b wont close up to ¢ sad {ax sty trom it; be made s sort of doublo glass with his hands and gazed ot it through that, and then Lo said, ** Honestly, Mr. Graham, IDON'T THINE THIS 13 UP TO YOUR LAST YZin'a WORK. There's o great deal too much realism for the subject, which is purely ideal, to my mind. Yonr know, these cherubs are- just like every-day, xeal-lfo babies, anly tuat they bava wings uad 80 forth. And I think there’s sn_obtrusive re- ality about the figures ; they're ‘all too detined, if yon know what I mean—i00 corpareal. And T can't help thinking there's something wrong. | Those with your harmonies.. green curtaing scem t0 me of too sonorous a quality toaccord | well with the light timbre qf the saffron rabe; and the cherube again nre treated in' too staccato a manner.” This critic was one | of s school who «choose to employ technical musical terms to con- vey their sé-called ideas about ppvlnfing: iy’the adoption of which method they DISPLAY ADQUT A8 MUCH BENSE ° aswould a Iawyer who talked about 8 falling case baving sustained a complicated fracture with se- vere abrisions, or a musician who spoke of the middle distance of & sonata. ‘At the same time,” continued the critic, “I am very much pleased with the brio of your curtring, and the Soft, sensuous tanes of sour clonds; but I ean't understand 'why you have kept them in that sub- dued key throngbont, 1ostead of supporting the principal theme with & full diapason”of scarley in - the ;ground. Indeod, I cau’t un-. derstand the - whole buainess: why _you should heve deserted your brillisnt, dash- ing slyle of last year, .which ouly wanted a litte more keepingin oue key—wh: you should bave left landscape and taken toideal- ism. : 1 CERTAINLY CANKOT DIAOINE." And he certainly could not. Tuo critic waa succoeded by another painter, a paintr who dolighted inodd, weird pictures, which were variatious in the samo groundwork of . colar tbroughout. He would “have river- scenes which looked a8 if scen through s greea or au opaque white glass, and would oxpend im- monge cleverness in producivg landscapes which were like some ghasily view in a dead world. The substance of his remarks was, Ay dear fellow, YOU'YE GOT 700 MUCH COLOE."™ After him came a mlLio\'inl Tealistic painter, who was acenstomed 10 Jay on hia paint as if the canvas were a poor wretch etarving for want of it ; and, os » natural consequence, his ‘pictures often guflercd from eurfeit. ,* By Jove, Gra- ham 1" be cried aa eoon ay he saw the gxchuc, # 1 didn't expect this of you, old boy; I never thonght yon'd go over to the washed-out, browa- and-gray, dirty-gfeen school. Thisis guite an i tu, Brule, business. And what's the meaning it What are these little that are all head and wings dojog, ch? DBut I say, Grsham, it reaily'is too bad to sceyour piccure sickening for want of painj in that way. ore, GIVE ME A BRUSH,” And spstching one np, he sdvanced with it towards the easel, when the artist, who bad till then heard him 1o paticnt silence, rushed at him, eeized him, to his ifinite purpriee, by the throat, and, turmning him ont of the studio, locked the door. Having done this, ho sst down in plaok and woury degpair. “ And is it for tbis,” he said to himself, ** that 1 bave tolled—for this that I bave felt my heart bound with expectant joy—for this that I havo oboyed what seemod to mo an inspired desire ? ‘This is the work that has sbsorbed my soul ; n:d this is what the masters of the day think of by Then indeed DESPAIR CAME OVER HIIN, sud he began fo think that he must be wronf and the critics must be right. Heo sat in misera- ble reflection, with his Lead propped on his bands, and the picturs on ke eagel before him. Hatred of the critics, of himsel{,"of his work, iilled bis mind, and he remsived in & kind of desperation. Still, whenaves his oyes wapdered 1o the picture, bo felt that its elght brought him new hope and faith in i(s Wondrous power, war- ing with the poor opinion of it which the critics l};‘:fflhndfmnndinmhiflmh But it wis an unequal strifo this fighting of ono solitary judgmont, and ° that the painter’s, ainst tle combined forces of artists and mateurs; #nd, sogry with himself for still continning it, ho resolved to end it at once, and with that purpose he got up and ‘turned the picture sway from him so that it faced the open window, and, obscuring part of the entering light, casT A SUADOW upon the floor whers he stood. ® Observing this, ho langhed harsbly, and apostrophized with bitterness the object that 50 short a tume before he had regerded with a blind veneration. % “You do well,” he cried, “to cast your bBlack shadow on my path; it is & fine image of the blighfini darkness with which you have enshronded my life. On you I have built up a dream of brightness, of noble devotion to a noble cud, of unselfiah glory,—snch o _dream a3 shall come to s manbut once in his Life. You were my goddess, my star that shone for mo, and kept me in the right path. And mow my idol is sbattered ; Isee it for the thing it isj my dream is gone. Where light was and clear morning, there shall be darkness and black mid- night. Farewell, my visions of srt ; farewell, thought of making these dull cauvases in- stinct with beauty and with life! PAREWELL 7O MY CAKEER; farewell to brush aad palette! My place shall know me nomore.” “He stopped, and, registing the desire to look once more upon the picturo, fled from thie room, hoping to subduc by the ex- excise of & violout walk tho fever of his heart and head. He had not fons very far, however, before he remembered t he had left the win- dow of his a:udio open; and, returning at the same swinging pace be bad éfarted with, ho re- traced his steps until he was within a few yards of hisdoor. And there Le stopped, for his at- tention was caught by a figure which stood in front of his house,—the figure of 8 woman, whose careworn appearance contrasted with her intel- lectual expreseion, GAZING WITH RAPT INTENTNESS . at something above her. What could it be? The arti8t dared not answer thie question to him- self, and psused still to ses what would follow. Presently there strolled by 8 man in shabby yet picturesque costume, whom the arist recognized s & musician of genfus not yet discovered by the world, Ho turned from his cousse, sttract- ed by the woman's peculiar attitudo and look, and the artist saw from their gesticulationa that ho was inquiring, ebe respondirg. Bhe polnted, be looked uphards; sud Lad scarcely done 8o when A BEVERENT ADMIRATION showed itself in his face, aud ho_took off his hat as though e bad ontered a place of worship. Toen camao Ly s carpenter retnrning from Lis day's work, with bis basket of tools glung over bis back, abd be too turned, and, baving tarned, remained and gazed liko the cthers. Then fol- Tawed a oldicr, then an_art-student, and scon, with that wonderfal power of quick congregs tion that belopgs to city life, & crowd hod as- sembled, increasing every minnte, saaying with a common movement, joiding ina . COXMOX MURMCE OF ADMIBATION at ihe wmonderful pictore abave them. ‘sun. The light seemod w0 that it wes the npictars. at ths open window whick was the object of their attention. It was remarkable that this seemed fo exercisa over them an unusual influence, » kind of awe which hushed their voices and yestraingd their action, so that there was among them none of that rude jostling and struggling for place which is an ordinary feature of collected humaz- ity. Thus, when another -couple cameto join the maes, they were able at once to find a spet- wheace they could obtala & view of the ‘eause of such fascination. ~These were i A PRIEST AXD A WOMAN: the former was bowed with age; the Iatter, not muck past middle lifs, was a.° noble. :Iady ' cld ‘“in ‘deep- -~mourn- ing for ~ the death ‘‘or “her' only son. He had been the light and joy_of her life, the datling of her soul,"and in losing him she had thought to lase all that was dear to her in the world. Bat she bad been of s proud. stern nature toall excent him, snd when he had gone: she had bardened her heart in Dbitterness; she bad ehed no tears, she, -had preserved a_stony silence which had been awtul to ece ; aad, now that the first shock af hia death had passed away, her untold grief had turned "to & macking” .~ despair, * .sgainst - which - - th pricat was probably remonstrating in Vain as thoy paesed. These two then stopped and looked with the rest, snd presently the priest, still looking, - FELL HCMDLY ON RIS KNEES, .. . and -the Iady, rogardiess of the crowd. which. atood around her, stood weepiog silently. Then the artist's sonl swelled witha Divine delight ; the warmth of inspiration reached his he: once mors a8 ha too joined the throng of wor- shipers and looked nip at the picture, which was now illunmined with the last rays of the setting 1. have a hoavealy: radisnce, as thongh s halo of glory had beea. cost avound his work; .and a8 ii grew brighter ho scemed to hoar s far- off cholr of voicos raised in’ swelling barmony, -while with them . mingled the deep, solemn tone af & bell more beautiful than.any heard on earth. Presontlythe voices died by degrees away, and the bell, rang alone, and seemed to grow gradually less barmonious, until at Inst it gave 4 LOUD, DISCORDANT CLANG, and Ruvert was aronzed by a hand laid on hia shoulder, and & voico exclaiming, “Wake y; Rupest! The bell is ringing for the gallery fo glioia.' JFancy findiog you asleep before theSan sto! s “Yes,” replied Bupert, T have had an odd dream with :pgwd PRV trothin it BAXIHUS. T hold him grest who, for Love's sake, Can give with geuetous, esrnest will; Tet be who takes for Love's mweet sake,’ 1 think I hold more generous #till, ¥lowbelors the motfomind y some great wrong forgivea; Yot nobler ia the oue forgiven, e TWho bears that burden well and Lives, bo hard 0 gain, and atill 3 lowly, Steadfust heart et he who loses fas to A1 ‘harder and truer part. - Glorions st is to wear the crown Of a desorved and puro auccesa; ‘He who knows how to fail han wod A crown whose lustre 15 not lesa. Great miay hobe who cn command , And ru'e with just and tender sway; ¥et is Diviner wisdom tanght ‘Better by him wha can obey. Blesned az6 those who die for God, And earn the maxtyr's crown of light; ° Yet he wha lives for God may be A greater congueror in his sight. —Adslatie Procter. HUMOR. “(QOams tohis death while being hit on the head with a lang-handled stewpan in the hands of his wife,” was the verdict in a recent case in Ilingis. —At o revival meeting in Montgomery Qounty recently, a yonug convert forgave all his eue- mies, * especially the fellow who thraw my pnp into a yellow-jackets’ nest,” —Ror. Geat.— Bat you reslly can_bave no serioua resson to wish to be parted from your wife.” Rustic—“ Well, mo, sir: I like my wife well encugh ; but, you see, she don't pleass mothar.™ —* Paddy,” says o joker, ‘ whydon’t you have your ears cropped ?—they are entirely too long for aman.” ' And yours,” replied Pat, oughtto bolengthened ; they are oo short fof an 2ss." —A gentleman at a dance remarked to partner, a witty young lady, that the * room too close—he most go out snd get some air. After an absence of half an hour he returned, when she asked him * if be had not been to the groveyard, as his broath amelt of the bier.” —One of our Southern exchanges speaks of # 5 gontleman who was arrested on the charge 4f counterfeiting nickels.” Itis impossible to Delieve that any *.gentieman ™ in possession of his five centacs would engage in 80 base & busi- ness. —i1 goe,” gnid a young lady, “ that somo printers advertise blank declarations for sale; I wish I could get ame.” * Why 2” ncked the mother. ‘ Because, ma, Mr, G——is too mod- est to ask mo to marry him ; and, perhaps, if T gganld £t up a blank declaration, he wonld sign —A youth, passiog down Fourth stroct, saw a handsomely-embellished spacimen truss hang- ing in & shop-window, and suspended from it & tag with this legend : ** Patent Rupturs Tyuss —pome like it.” * Well,” gaid Rusticus, eyeing it with suspicions looks and edging away, ap- mggsirfly, *I shouldn’t think they would i ¥ —+* Got anything for & sick man to read ?” in- nired a pug-nosed boy at & news-stand the other v. “ Yes, auytbing yon want—Bibles, poews, religious books, Uhristian Heraid, and eo forth.” replied the clerk. Bibles!” eehoed the boy ; *do you think dad's a hangel? Gimme a lively dimse novsl—~one with an Injun sculping & sol- diar {"—Delrowt Free Press. - —A Sacremento dealer in hair-oil, who sold on the principle of ““No cure, no pay.” has sued one of his bald-headed customers; and tha latter de- mands a bald-headed jury, in order that he may Do tried by his peers. —Chorus of ladies to comely curate who is as- cendiog the Isdder to hang rations—* Oh, Mr. Sweetlow, do takecars! Don't goap! 80 dangerous! Do come down! Ok!" Reetor (uarcustically)— Beally, Swestlow, don't you ink you'd better lot s married man do that ?” —**You cannot tsste in the dark,” eaid a lec- turer, * Nature has intended us fo_see our f00d.” “ Then,” inquired a forward pupil, * how about a blind man at dinper 7" ¢ Nature, eir,’ answered the Professor, “ has provided him with: eye-teeth.” R —It was at a party that some young Indics wore discussing the relative benefits of the spar- rows sod the worms, when one of tho fair ones, appealed to young Fizzletop, sho had just joined’ them, and bod not caught the drift of the con- versation, “ Which do you think the worse, ‘worms or sparrows 2" What did the stupid brots do but innocently answer, “I don't know; I never had sparrows.” —A picture in Punch's Almanac for 1874 rep~ resents a scene in & nursery. Alady ispeated near the fire, and a little girl 18 kneelng befors her, while suother little girl ssys: ** pleaso montion I'm so dresdfally tired I can’s &ay mine to-night, but I'll be sure to remember to-marrow 1 s —Sir Richard Wallaco Liaa endowed Paris with drinking-fountains. A Pacisians aco not grate- ful to him, however. A man of an enterprising character went to him sod asked for s of 50,000 francs for no particalar cause, Bir Richard laughingly eaid, *‘No, thank you,' on which the injured individual roes, s00k op his chapeau, and revenged himself with ihe +After sll, your fountaing are Very poor aft —At srocent faneral in Danbury, whers zov- eral argauizations were in atiendance, no crape ‘badges mere provided for s female eociety. The President, after fidgeting about in & manner peculiar to her unfortunate and happy sex, eod- dealy binrted ont: ‘‘Ideclare! I don’t enfoy this faneral opo bit 1" The snnouncement cast a gloom over ihe entire guthering—Danbury News. —Citizan—**Well, you see how it is yourzelf, Mr. Plumber. The girl left the lsundry-room window opencd, thermoweter fouchod zero, water-pipes froze, then burst, and, as no one Jmew how to shut off tho plagney thing, the wa. tor run half of the night.” Plumber—**Yes, I see; very bad break; wanis new plumbiung throughout ;- miserable pipes—wonder it didn's happen long ago.” Citizen—" How much is it golng to cost to plamb up in good shape, includ- g tenders>" Plumber—* Well, I don't know, but § think I will take the honss in part par- mect,"—Boslon Journal 2 THE BIRD OF GOLD. Tpon 3 whifely-blossomed epray Cranted 1 goldes; Lird, one.day,— A strange, sweet bird, with rosy wiogs, Which ouly I the eusriso singr. ms;cx:e zung s 2 spirit der t vibrate through 5 cryatal sphers » ¥ Asd, when high hove its heart would atlr, Xt sorept the air, » congueror 7Tis silent now. N .ore, 0 Returns the soiden bird of yould L French, 5 For there waa'_no Jooger any doubt | —From the