Evening Star Newspaper, September 23, 1871, Page 3

TRE LILyY- hadn't seen t Ana ¥ akin és Weise = 1 Ardrew sit me weré at taggers’ pint We'd quarreled mara kee iy Tt was the most rede tous thing, And neither one wan't right: But he was a perfect mule. aud I Jest wouldn't give ina mice. And so it went on, from week to week, alt bimeby ‘twas s year; Daby pet, t the way we'd twisted and turned to keep ‘row speakin’ was rather queer # used to gn throngh each other's fleMs, A-drawin coal or lime: And now ‘twas kind ‘To go round every I was determ rmentin’ work i to wt ms nied a other, you know, h hin’ at Leonid purch myself for a fool But they say wien the devil 2 You needn't sead him to eehucl. all the sister I by arty « refine “Fr dy was eal 4 her Hike w puree » T hea b Lae i Lheard her say was ani«ai © I thought; e uthers * urded mu Ive trapped in that sort o’ way, An »y Wrath ap tight; And. weman-like. she anderstoud, Ai ind o signed at the sight. Frem that very time—I can’t explain— Bot a feelin’ got hold o me {If 1d seen the © woman, I'd said e peep. Andrew had gone. and Huldy was oat iaiye you no ideo: an sugel {rota heaven bad dropped Tly bud dows to mo. ser; you see I forgot and ehtof the ane tl year: Thad fe away to her grave; Anal while f wae titan io r reached 4 ‘aniled : Aad I honed it ccoee, for f verity Diieved "Twas my own little angel cl All of a sudden—I never knew how— ‘There was Andy and Hnldy and Sa: Apd the women were cryin’ aud Kissin! me so Was paral ‘way through ; When Andy epek th a shake in hie votee, “Come. give us your band: And we clinched with Abd there wasn't po end t boy. hat we'll never regret, the joy. MY PROPHET. “ Stay to tea; do,”’said Aunt Desire, with that ridiculous hospitality of hers that would fain share her salt with every creature that comes to house. “* It’s Sadi’s birthday, and we ought tw celebrate it in some way.” «Do you still count birthdays, Sadi?” said nreiser. inty. This is my twenty-sixth.” Hush, my dear, speak low. You look very young still; you need not own to more than twenty-two for some years.” Why should I hide it * One would think you desired nothing better than to be an old maid, staying at home all the time, rocking your mother's babies, and tyin; yourself down as if you were already a married woman, or never meant to be one.” « Perhaps I don't. “ That ain't natural. Of course you want to t married, but you never will unless you go falc ay. I've been married twice, and nothing tw beast of in the way of looks. I did’nt run after the men; but¢@f they wanted to find mg did not wear out their patience looking for me. irl is an old maid, it isherown fault; that’s trine.”” have never seen any one in this place I like better than my brothers and sisters.” “ Make visits, then. Go out of this piace.” « But it I have no invitations—” il, at least you could go huckleberrying t town.” ped, and yielded that point willingly. knit imto the middie of ue Aunt Desire had wiped them, and smoothed down her apron. As er did! but one thing at a time, these were own signs that she was about to give us ce of ber mind.” «I'm an oid maid, as every knows, and perbays my doctrine would not have so much weight as 4 woman's that had been married twice; but seventy years will gather some wis- . if only by rubbing against people so long. My doctrine is that it is no use running round after a bean. You may get one that way, bathe ‘Won't stick, or won't be good for any thing if he does. Ifa girl has a husband waiting for her any where in the world, he'll most find her sooner or later. The men who are best worth having don’t look for their wives in pablic places, when they have on their best bibs and tuckers. ‘They like to surprise a girl with @ duster in her hand or a baby brother in her lap. It has more and making eyes at them all day “* Men were more sensible in your young days,” said Mrs. Obenreiser. “Not abit. They are always sensible enough if women don’t spo!) the: “ Do you think every chooses, Aunt Desire “*To be sure. I should have married years ago if I had had time; but I was always so deep in other folks’ troubles that I could not give my mind to it.” “ Tell us about it.” sald Mra. Obenreiser. “What ’" said Aunt Desire, with a touch of that complacence which every woman shows when she counts her scalps. « The last offer.” “Oh, that was this winter, when I went to New Bedford. (Sasan’s children had the mea- sies, andshe sent for me.) Herhusband’s father lived with them, a fine old gentleman, smart as cricket (only ‘Susan says have the rheumatism awfully); and maybe he liked the way I tended the children, for be asked mo all of asudden one day to marryhim. I confess that I thought for just a minute how nice m; embstone would look with ‘Mrs. Desire So-and- Se, beloved wife of So-and-So’ on it; but then I theught of that worthy woman who lived with him so many years here, and perhaps is waiting for him now in the other world.” * What did you tell him, aunt “ Ttol effect on them than fattering a d only thought of it fifty years sooner.”” “But yea dida’t know him so long ago, did you.” “ «Ob yea, I nd I had no thought of tomb stones then. y flush <pread over Aunt Desire ken cheeks, andtook at least twenty years from her age for one instant. ** Now teil us about the first offer,” said Mrs. Obenreiser. “ That was the first—and last,” said Aunt Desire, laughing at Mrs. Obenreiser’s expectant face till the tears ran down her cheeks. “You have proved my doctrine, that a girt does wrong to tie herself down throngh ail Ler », Lhave only proved that every woman least one chance to-marry.” chance does not come till she is ht as well not come at all.” ak so,” said Aunt Desire, with a faint, sweet smile, that reminded me of the per- fume of flowers long pressed in a book. “ Let Sadi sit in her chimney-corner, and make smooth the way for my old feet and the little ones to tread. She is fitting herself w be a woman, which is a better thing (because less selfish) than a good wife. Her lover will come sometime. «I wonder how he will look 2” said I. “If he is the right man,” said Aunt Desire, “he should have Hght hair and blue cope has at cause yours are black. He must be of a hopeful and sanguine temper, because you are inclined to look on the dark side.” - « If he comes with a glass slipper in lis hand, er,” said L. "said Mh ther had taken Cinderella to the ball. He didn't see her first in her chim- mey-corner.’ “© thou of little faith!” said Aunt Desire. «‘Sadi’s lover is to be thrown from irs. i x glad of of tha ever was silly eno’ ee All women mind it. ~y that has driven many a I said, with some scorn. are not mow, bubit isa very fas fall into.’ Was the fact that no had ever shown the least sign of love to me outef my own kindred. Aunt es confession was my first intima. tion that other girls suffered in the same way. bad been so thoroughly ashamed of the fee ing that I thought it must be something new ender the sun. Continually I said to myself, at such times, “I don't wan isn't it St ail; I only want somebody to say “I love you" as if be little nettle ri “Ww hat is an vid m: vu We nt Desire was an old maid, and you e. I will be o: going to be. I guess it’s ni too.” How long do people keep up that sort of talk uta girl TT said to Aunt L They kept it ith me tll 1 was about Just the time thai Jaco! it seemed to him b he bore her. I woncter how long it see: her? But you are pretticr than Fev may count on at least five years more.” We hada busy spring that year; the ch’ seemed to have ontgrown all their clothes in w body. They could not spare me tive minutes in the day wherein to be disconsolate if my hag been set upon it never so much. re I went out for a waik the first warm day, and as I enteral the gate on my return I saw an pnasaal commo- tien about the house. The front door stood oper, and the doctor was just going in, while the faces of neighbors appeared at different win- W's. “Oh! What is it?” [asked dreathiessiv. “* He has had his hand torn on the wheel, but it won't be fatal!” “Who ? Who?” «Your brother Tom. He went into the fac. tory, and was ecarcless; that’s all.” t Tt was enough, I thought, as I rushed up sai and saw Aunt Desire with’ Tom's head in lap, and the crashed hand held upright to stop the bleeding. The doctor was watching for the faintmess to go off before beginning his work. “Tshall need two to help me,” he said, “ and the rest aero iuat 90 awe stairs, and keep tlle house quiet.” *«1 was with him when it happened,” said Mr. dustin. «Will you take ine? *« You'll do,” said the doctor. “Now anoth- er.” But the people had scattered at the first ooo leaving Aunt ire and me standing to- gether. I want Sadi,” said Tom, faintly. ‘Yon leok delicate,” said the doctor. “It will need steady nerves.” “ She ain't delicate,’ retorted Tom. “She's strong asa horse. I won't have any body else. You can stand it, can’t you, Sadi?” “ Yes, Tom.” “ Stand here, then, and hold the elbow still as death. If the boy keeps up that spirit, he'll live through this and a great deal more.” The first five minutes were eas; when the red stream poured out in great gushes my own blood seemed to gather about my heart, and for half an instant my head swam. “Steady!” said the doctor, in a warning tone. “Look straight at me,” sald Mr. Justin; ‘don’t look dewn at ail.”” ‘We were both bending forward over the hand. I met his eyes as they were within a few inches of mine, and clutche@them, so to speak, as if they were the anchor that held me to con- sciousness. It may have been hours, or only minutes, that I stood rigid in this way. “Well done, Sadi, said the doctor at last; and I saw only a neat bundle of bandages at the end of Tom’s arm, lying ona cushion. While Mr. Justin was bathing Tom's head I went into the next room and leaned my face against the wall. A sudden raid of tears blinded me, and bad the same effect as a shower upon overcharged air. In another minute I should have been ready to go through the same strain over again. “You need not cry; he will do well,” said Mr. enough: but Justin, speaking very gently beside’ me; “and pec a braver than I thought a woman conld be.” “I was not brave at all; I only strained my will; and this js the way I get over it. Women cry for agreat many reason besides grief.” pgp I know very little of their ways.” “T could not have gone through it but for your help. T thank you very much.” He »: and held out his hand, giving mine a cordial shake, as if were a man, somehow, to whom he had taken a fancy. «I will come back in the evening, and watch with Tom,” Then he went away, and I am afraid I thought far eftener in the next hour of the way that rare smile lighted up Mr. Justin's = face than of poor Tom's trouble. For Mr. ustin’s face was exceedingly plain; at first sight it seemed all of one color—hair, skin, eyes, and eyesbrows of a uniform yellowist “PEAY, second look detected the tine between hair and fore- head. A peculiarly well-shaped mouth and ex- hovel teeth were the only redeeming traits about it. biere rarity of his smile proved that he had no vanity. Tom's band had to be examined and reband- aged every day for many weeks. Mr. Justin as- sisted when he was in the house, which was very often, but sometimes Tom would have no one bo myself. He emoted more attention than a ‘One day we were busy with him, when Mrs. Obenreiser was allowed to make her frst call on ur patient After the Get inuiriog tsa the loo! me J ing in her face, and tried to make my Scape. Sut Fam eid iny han and would natiet ie go 4 3 eC} mast Came trac; aid ft not Sadi? ony 4 was a brother tues of a lover that was brought inon a board and laid at your feet. What a pity!” said Mra. Oben. « What's all that about?” said Tom, while Mr. Justin lifted his evebro ‘ne Aunt Desire’s nonsense; that’s ail,” » no, Tom; don't be silly.’ “ Well, 1 knew nobody but women ever came to see you.” 1 felt rather thansaw Mr. Justin's amusement at this home truth. “Your aunt thinks that Sadi will get a hus- band just as quickly if she sits in the chimney- | corner tending the baby aud mending your stockings all the time as she would if she went enjoyed herselt like “1 agree with Aunt Desire,” sa “Oh, indeed! Perhaps you are like those 5 ble men that she knew in her youth, who lovked for nothing but solid qualities in their wives * said Mr. Just ito Mrs. Obenre I looked up at him graterully, and his face grow suddenly bright with that ile. It was as if the sun had all at once flashed through red curtains into a dull, empty room. He looked «some for the first time. Would do for you excellently Obenreiser. me, now,” said Tom, “that’s going it a little too steep. Sadi hasn't been married twice, if you have, and she has some delicate feelings left.” Mrs. Obenreiser was going to be very angry, but Mr. dustin said, gently, “A sick boy ‘cz Drivileges,”” and the storm biew over. J had become accustomed by this time to Mr. Justin's quiet wi straight ing face. of always Stepping into the at the crit moment. He spoke very little at any time, and usually to break some awkward conversation; but his mere presence in @ room gaye me a restful sense of security. In spite of his own perfect seli-possession, I could not meet him with quite thexame freedom after Mrs. Obenreiser’s call as 1 did before. Tom we , and Mr. Justin's visit became less equent—the idea which had begun to suggest itself to my mind that part of them was meant for me was nipped in the bud. I blushed more than ever over innermost thoughts. Two years before we placed Tom in the counti: een in which Mr. Justin was book- eeper. ‘Tom had immediately conceived a every 7! never met him, ex- cept fee a baler Tatrodurtion in the street, until 8 accident pap inttnete Srtands. It seemed to me we must always be that, we Bees Uke feeeer nnmeeees re or were, ie wore a iat whieh I had locked Tor, “1 haven't seen you for three days,” said Tom vice on Syren ind as I passed ies aunt's door she looked as uf she could give ee Did ciples. ; PO dear!” 1 43 + You are worse than Mrs. Obenreiser;” and it must haye heen ive long mixutes before Mr. Justimscemedto opie necessity of eying, eS. I made two or three careful speeches in the he paid no sort of attention, “You are quite certain that you would not want me to come here unless it i3 iay own wish to do so 2” he said at last, in a very formal way. Yes," I said, with a tittle trembling. “You have made up your mind to wait for that lover who is to be brought in on a board and a at your feet?" it time, te whica His eyes secmed to take a distinct color for ence as] met them then, and he made a step forward. you must come quick. Tem has out, and the bandage is loose,” hing in between us, pen. na heard Mr. Just kof the g ver came back again, T that strange look in ent, as if he had his arms. Tong th his eyes, and the heen tempter Thad not ler He came again in the evening. and we sat with Tom as we had so etten done berore. With half a glanee at me, he said he had found a letter at his office that atternoon whieh would call him out of town far & week and 7 After that haps a fortnight. Tem would not part with him till the last mo- ment. At ten o'clock I went down to the door with him, and he drew me out on the piazza. The still Marlght somehow convinced me, as I felt the touch of Mr. Justin's arm, that I truly loved thi plain man, and, if need be, I could wait irty s for him to teil me of it. “* Sadi, I must ask you before I go away for an uncertain time” — “Oh, Mr. Justin. where are you going?” called out alittle white figure that rose up suddenly from the end of the p It was \ ima single garment. “ Don't let her scold me, Mr. Justin. It was so hot in bed I came ont to cool ysefs, and when you opened the door I hid.” I torgive you if you go in now,” J said. “In a minnte. Dick and Lucy are coming home frem the party at ten, and mean to bring me some of the Supper. ‘There they are now. is too true,” said children approached the gate. “I may as well recognize the hand of , and say good-by, Sadi.” {Good-by,” I said, putting a cold hand into Mr. Justin, as the “Tih T come back,” and he went away, lagh- ing. My pillow was just a little wet with dis- appointed tears that night, though both Nettie’s arms were around my neck, Before Mr. Justin came liome Tom was cer- tain that he was well enough to goto the factory; and after arguing with him two days 1 walked down with him, tekeep him out of temptation by the way. Ihad my reward, for Tom's first question hadelicited the tact of Mr, Justin's re~ turn. As I tarned homeward I saw him afar off coming to mect me, and a few rods behind hima walked Mrs. Obenreiser. We did not speak at first; the gladness in his face was enough for me. He tried to take both my hands, but I whispered, “Mrs. Obenreiser is Just bebind you.” ‘Fate again! Thave nota moment to lose. Sadi, will you marry me?” All right—How do you do, Mrs. Obenrei- Tam charmed to see you.” Are you. indeed? The'symptoms looked as if you would not be charmed to see any one but Sadi just new.” “The symptoms have become certainties, Mrs. Ovenreiser.” Andshe was so much surprised that she went on her way, forgetting to con- gratulate “1 wasa true rophet, after all,” said Aunt Desire, as we walked into her sitting-room with corseions faces. “Sadi’s lover came to her chimney-corner at lust.” “ Butshe had to leave it,” said Mr. Justin, “or that lover could not have proposed to her without Nettie for a witness.” “‘That’s no news,” said ‘Tom, when 1 deli- cately broached the ‘subject of my engagement to him. “You began your courting the very day my hand was hurt.” And I believe Tom is right. —[Harper’s Bazar. = A Race vor Lire—Thongh a swamp fire is not so bad as a irie fire, it is yet formidab! enough, as some Canada gentlemen, who were laying out the line of a railroad, recently found. In the prosecution of their labors, they had pen- ‘the Long swamp, in the first and second concessions, about half @ mile, when suddenly the attention of Mr. Tate, one of the party, was attracted by a loud roaring, as of the approach of a burricane. On looking in the direction from whence the sound proceeded, to his horror he observed fire rushing toward tliem at a rapid rate, licking up everything in its way, and fell- ing 1 trees in every dit Mr. Tate ordered a stampede at once, and then began a race. Atthe start, the fire was fully 300 yards pont rushed — white men and Ini » Scramal brush-heaps, fombling feallong barking shins, spraining ankles, scratching bands and tearing clothes, but not a word was spoken, no stopping to look back, for companions in the rear, but each one struggling to reach the clearing. Owing to the ‘Sensetiess of theswamp, though every mus- cle was strained, was but as thatof a walk to the rapid march of the fire, which every minute leaped at least two yards nearer its in- tended victims. Each roar and crackle but urged them to ater efforts, as each ing sound fulling on the ear with greater distinctness but told them how fast it was gaining upon them. Blows and bruises were as nothing, could they but reach the clearing, which, fortunately, they did in safety, but not @ moment too soon, for the fire was but ten feet behind them when they emei from the woods, Had they de- layed but a few minutes longer before starting, the probability is that the sad duty might have been ours to pen their obituary. The whole party, about seven in number, were so com- | sar exhausted that they could not have gone enty yards further. Mr. Tate says he can only account for the rapid march of the tire by the high wind that was then blowing, and the food for fire which the cers | contained, it being very thick with cedars dead firs, and C~ herbage being very dry.—Zindsay (Canada) Post. A Far Western IxcrpEent.—As bold a rob- bery as ever we have heard of was perpetrated on Thursday of last week, near Soap lake, and about cight miles trom Gilroy, by three men,two of whom were, without doubt, the men who rob- bed MacMahon on the San Juan mountain, the Saturday evening before. At Soap lake they stopped the Visalla stage about I o’clock in the afternoon, made the driver drive through a gap they had tern in the fence, and into a grove at the mouth of a canyon, where they blindfulded him and all his passengers, except a young lady and one gentleman, whom she claimed as b husband, and who, in deference to her ent: ties, they permitted Sgro | his place. The others they tied, blindfolded, and striped of all money and valuables. From the supposed husband they required his money, and he handed them 333, 33 of which they returned, on the representation of the wife that herself and husband ought to have enough left them to pay for meals between there and Visalia. Her coolness and ingenuity saved the express box also, for when the stage was stopped it lay at her fect, in sight partially, but w te her foot she drew it back until it hidden by her clothes, Besides the stage, a teamster with a load of pickets, a single traveler in a buggy, and a boy on tured and corraled at the same place by them, having only half a dollar was al- refain it. The plunder they obtained amounted to $600 or $700. Leaving their cap- tives bound and blindfolded, with the exceptions named, rode off, and, turning from the Vi- salia road, dup the valley for 0 a public road. They had not gone far when they encountered a Mr. Growell within about 200 yards of his house, and relieved him of 36.50, leaving him in a frame of mind that led to pur- suit by him of them nearly to Hollister, and then into the mountains east of that town.— Castroville (Cal.) Argus. Tre Sun's WHIRLWINDs.—The Hartford Ceswe “San: '—those in the photosp! denote vast whirl plun; opening middle envelope of aeons rection. Ej 5 Hy i 3 EY 3 i 4 »§ ‘i A SECULAR VIEW OF THE FUTURE STATE. [From the Londou Spectator.} Market Gardening in England. A mndent of the N, Yi Evens: Preteen 2 9 e zs York Evening ‘The ten to believe ina future state does, Early beans under glass are certainly nov- not in En; decrease. Every other form of | €lties. Our early Mohawitbean ts Rare foreed skepticism fiourithes and finds new votaries; for the market. There are plenty of people Dut the netion that’ “death is an cternal sleep,” in London, and probably in) York, who teas we ris like the flowers,” so witel, ptt pe te i a liberal mar g ifftsed oti fhe Continent as to be almost con- | in Apri t They Bayt ni termin: us with cism, hes in this eoamry f° wach per hundred pods. Tho puis are vert little kohi—ttss, we b £f¥ or thirty years ago. One cause, perhaps, of the difference between Englishinen and Cou fnentals in the matter ts, that Engihmen's lives are too dull, too full of exertion and care, for them not to WISH TO BELIEVE IN A HAPPIER AND RRIGHTER STATE Bot anether is the visible diminution in the hostility once ex inet science tw ‘the idea. Sole 3 for th mt the svivent which is destroying or eating away the old be- Nefs. and seh + has become somewhat sudden- avks why it should be to live fe for us to 1d be so energetically tthe whence, and so irritable her There ie a disposition te futnre state may be, lent contempt at nN; a re stend of proposition tha consider w ity of a second life being rot arrive at some 2 rities by wh inevitably be m: such speculation, th ence to revealed trath the mind should not on ot refer- ly thinking out the problem what t tions may be. ‘Till they are approxim tely certained. ULATION WILL RE WAS tainly are not clearly There cannot, we submit, be between this life and the next hail amoun to asolution of mental continuity. If there is the next life fs not a next lite, but another and separate life, and existence might just as well begin there. It is not that the worm has become aimoth, but that the worm was needless to p duce the moth; that this lite is a waste, which it is useless to cnitivate, because the crop coulll never be used. Everybody will instantly under- stand that thie is true abont one of the few men- tal facnities which appear to be whol!yor almost wholly material. A good deal of collected evi- dence about memory suggests that recollection is in some way phy that am impression made on the brain stops there Ike a picture on the collodium film; that, theugh blurred and obscured, it can never bo wholly efiaced, ‘h a chasm Ray reappear without the cousent of the will. At Teast that is what the phenomena of recoy- ered recoliections—the recoliections, for in- xtance, of words which have been forgotten, and the meaning of which was never understood— would seem to suggest, and if that were true, mcmory would be ORE OF THE FACULTIES LEFT BEHIND in the present world. And yet if it were left, this life would be but waste, and the new man born there as new as if he had uever been born here. That is perhaps the strongest argument Against the ancient- theory—still very” firmly held by one or two very able mon—that another lite may have preceded this, for it it did, the old life would afford an instance of waste which nothing in the visible laws of the universe in- duces observers to think possible. The memory therefore, must continue; that will be admitted; so must other things, too, whieh are not quite so clear. Among them is the sense of li tion of ower. The popular notion that a good man at death becomes 4 kindof interior deity. an angel, notion absolutely without warrant in Serip- ture, and imported into Christianity from a totally different system of thought, would in- yolve a solution of continuity almost as eom- plete ax the extinction of memory. The man wonld rise, not himselt, developed, but a new being, with a brain for example so enlarged that nothing done in the original lite conld seem of importance, so free trom the limitations of hu- man nature as to be UNABLE TO BENEFIT BY HUMAN EXPERIENCE. The link with the jes would be broken as completely as by the disappearance of memory, every act and circumstance shown in a light so different that their old meaning would disappear, would cease to bea meaning. The man-angel Would te studying, as he looked back, not him: self, but an inferior creature between whom and himself would be no binding link except com- m. It is hard enough to conceive how identity can continue when the body has disap- peared; how the mind, when newly embodied, when freed from those mysterious restraints which the present body imposes.on it, from the coloring with which it invests it, from the Mmits within which it confines it_for instance, mental fatigue must be an accident of the corporeal me- dium—can remain the same mind at all,nay more than a man’s identity could remain the same it, Deinginall circumstances of ancestry, training, &e., English he became by miracle in all these circumstances French. [t is nearly as difficult to conceive of the junction point between the mind as it is, and the mind not only made sin- less, but devoid of the possibility of sin; betwee minds as we know them; and minds to which a unknown future is never present; but if, i addition to all these changes, so witle-reachin in their influence, the powers are not gradual developed, but enormously and suddenly expan ded, the’ difficulty would be inconceivabl increased. The fish w ould not rise a fish, but bird, which is not a true continuance of the fish a bird not being a glorified fish, but a bird Prot. Grote goes sureiy too far in that direction Shen he suggests that our sympathy with al other. BEINGS IN THE NEXT WORLD WILL BE PERFECT and that undisguisedness will therefore be in- evitable and absolute. Why? Surely, ir sym- pathy with all is perfect, one of the most ottective links of continully, the limitation of sympathy, will disappear, and the mind un- anding all, and sympathizing with all equally, all the affections as we would call them, would cease, and all the relations of humanity be meaningless. | The ancient and beautiful thought which has cheered so many bereaved ones, that separation is only for a time, would be without object; for though we ia meet again, it would be in relations to which the former relations would have no relation. The love between parent and child, for example, 80 far as it is not the result of cir cumstances and physical similarity of consti- tution—all which circumstances and similarity must cease at death—is the product of superior sympathy, which sympathy would be merged, lost in the universal sympathy of which Prof. Grote has spoken. It may be of course that the earthly jons are ly, and end with earth; but there is no proof of that, and no rea- son for a suggestion which, besides being a mel- ancholy one, is an additional difficulty in the way of continuity. So with that absolute! immovable idea in a mind conscious of weari- ness, that the next state will be one of perpet- est, which would, if it were true, require 8 absolutely fatal to continuous The mortal mind, and the mind which did all without exertion, COULD NOT BE OF THE SAME MIND, any more than the mind of a plowboy sudde raised to the level of Newton would be thesai ‘There would be a break in a case hike that conscious break snapping the life in two, dail giving the second half anew beginning. There must be strain, and effort, and progress there, as here; and it'is wonderfully difficult to con” ceive that there is not in that strain and effort a possibility of tailure, and therefore of unhay; ness. The link between # morta! mind,andamtad not only free from unhappiness, but free from | the conception that unhappiness could arrive, would be a very thin one, even if a change so in: conceivably vast could be effected at all withou' snapping it. There must be ambition in Heave: if it be only to know more—for omnise: quality of created beings—and with it, if not suf fering, at least comparative and varying de; of saquinem. which would be the same thing. Hope has entered too much into our conception of a future state, and both faith and reason too ttle; and we cannot but think that one object 80 DANGEROUSLY DIFFERENT FROM THIS that there is a possibility that this will be lost and fc us the sou! recedes into time, to limits, contmui g granted as sion teen necessity in- involve immedi- wi & condition, that con: must of yolye. We believe it will be foun id to it reduction in the extent of if that is &7The State Police of Massachusetts esti- he te at in that 1,500 of | being lo-~ t hy waver inion eat ia i large, and eaten m, as with us { oo 3 is, as rin deans. Th im great quantit bg ve Tanges: boing ‘anened oo their cattare; aslcan judge from mere ture is attended with profit. somewhat like this - eight-inch — rich soil, and plant just under the surface eight | beans, ‘Set the pots in a moderate temperature j near the glass. With @ steady and rather dry atmo: phere will advance quickly. Give plenty of water and air as often as the weather rermits. When the plants are we!l up, remove three of the weakest. AS soon as the Toots be- pois Shift fo w twelve-inch pot. nis, if kent growing rapidly, will vleom. Ft the cannot be given, the set by gentiy brushing ro over the flowers, or by A current of gir would be the band to shaking the pls t, if net toy cold. The plants will bear when six weeks oki. After removing the crop throw the plants out. Successive sowings must be followed up every two weeks. The is in December, May. ate foreing without t are n growr in frames. In this case the seeds ted in the frame. Pots are by n be raise, at the South ow The same »plies to Landon. ach garden- produce into Engtish markets t oat load every Ina certain wa Jon trade, but people quidk between vegetables that led for ten hours by boat and raf i those fresh frem London | where in the shop windows strawberries, melons, ete. hothouse,” and with h Comment is not necessary. Tomatoes are forced to a limited extent in England. The plants are grown in borders and subjectad | to @ rigid system of pinching. Now | move on toward the city and examine some of the out-door page about Kew, Chiswick and Fulham. We will not mention any one place, but take a general enrvey over several miles of territory, all of it closely planted with growing crops.” Every available foot is de- yoted to something. Rhubarb stretches acre beyond acre, seemingly in sufficient quantities to sour the Thames Were it all stewed in that muddy little river. Huge patches of lettace, counting plants by the hundred thousand, spread out in pale green like a lay The ground is lost to view ms we pass, so close do the plants stand to each other. There are a dozen women tying up the heads with a bit of matting. This lettuee requires to be boand up to make it blanch. Think of the,labor bhi oipeiongd on anacre. Forty-two thousand plants in one acre, and every one to be handled. Our cabbage let- tuce ts not used here except oc iy for forcing. See that field thrown up into hij ridges! That is fail of Saperagns. The bank- ing up is to cause the shoots t push through a deep soil. I donbt if this is an improve- ment on onr American method. There ix another field in ridges, cach about five feet wide, with a — A about two feet wide’ between each. ¢ top of each ridge has a slope toward the south, and is thickly planted with horn carrots. Last winter this three-acre field was covered with glass. The ridges are the places where the frames stood. A crop of some kind was gathered from it in March, and then the carrots were sown. The ten weeks of their existence was passed under the glass. The frames, when mild weather came, were removed, and now the crop em 4 field br st fier prices attached. proaching maturity out of doors. There is a of caulitlowers, ripe and ready for market. Beside each plant stands an iron frame filled with glass or a large bell glass. They were placed over the plants in cold weather, and under them the plants uiade their growth. ‘Straw was also used as a ‘stfil further —— The use of these glass covers is an idea imported from the French and Belgium gardens. A Good Way to Can Peaches. athe following mode is zecommnentot: Take jarge, ripe peaches—not over ve am pare neatly and lay on a aoe. Toa three-peck basket of fruit four pounds of sifted si ikle it over the tre lay it in the dish; when done set it m a good coo! place over night; the next one by one, nicely in from the juice. When them “oy e to CS, in x rs putting a double towel or something of the kim under them, in the bottom of the kettle, to pre- vent them from cracking, and set over the fire. Tet the water heat gradually till it boils, while you prepare the sirup from the juice that has been formed from the peaches and sugar over night, then fill up the jars with it, being careful tolet the bubbles of’ air escape; they will, by rising to the top; if any are in the lower part of the jar they will rush up on the insertion of a fork. When ail are fall begin to sealup, and have a large pan of hot water standing near to put the Jars in as fast as sealed, where they can cool of gradually. When one has glass jazs or botiles without tight-fitting covers, prepare a cement of one pound of rosin to two pounds of mutton su | melted togecher and well mixed; have pieces of strong muslia cut large enough to tie over the | mouths of the jars or bottles; lay the muslin on | aboard an¢ with a spoon spread over a thick coating of cement; take up the muslin quickly | before it has time to cool, and put itonthe jar | with the cement side downward, ing it closely over the sides. If the muslin is not very | thick, it is weil to spread more cement on top of the first cover and lay over thata second piece of muslin, then tie down with twine, finish | with acoat of cement over all. Thats a good way touse up old jars whose covers have been broken or lost. _ ‘The Check-Rein, It is a disputed point whether the use of the check-rein is useless, or of 80 much inconvent- ence to the horse as to amount to cruel inflic- In hoseeg nop | this question we should remember that the check-rein is not the same thing under all circumstances. A high-bred, highly fed and pampered earriage-horse under the control of a check-rein cannot be consider- edin the same light as a hard-worked and broken-spirited cart-horse. The one needs the restraint of the check-rein to Sa under the hems go command without which it would be unsafe to drive him. The position of the head is not in this ease any source of inconvenience, for the exertions of the are only very slightly taxed to draw the light carriage and its oceupants. On the other hand, a horse taxed to its utmost to draw heavy loads over roads where the footing is far from secure | ing (as on the slippery streets of a city) is never found to be so tightly reined up as the show: horse attached to the Cay nee carriage, where appearance isthe great desideratum; and he has, therefore, a greater command ‘over the positionof his head. Horses used for heavy work, as drawing wagons or carts in cities, and plows and harrows on farms, very rarely. ifever, are found hampeved with a check-rein. And it is in the ease of these horses that the greatest complaints are made. Consequently these com- plaints are to some extent ill-founded. The fact is, the check-rein, under some circumstances, is as necessary to the control of the horse as the bit and Dridie, and the rest of the harness. It is an animal. if he knows anything at all, would im to be so inconvenienced by it as pt perm! | to impair his usefulness—Hearth and Home. lough Harness. This should be divested of every unnecessary A horse, like his master, does not Jothing is is suited to ip i PELs if ES) E sisouee . Fe i ( 5 Hieeert? i it Fi i Fh fee her er is cold | let as | | only when a hard-worked, heary-laded brate is | | too'tightly reined up that «hindrance to his power of working; and the owner of such | A Aeon” IN THE MISING GEN The vegetative pow fe are strong. few years how often the pallid tne, the tack ! | eye and emanet imporsibitity of their bancfal in Ruerce. It soon becumes evident to the observer | that some depressing influence i* checking the de | ment of the body. Consumption is talked of | and perbaps the youth is removed from school sentinto the country, This is » worst move ments. Bemoved from ordinary of th ever-changing scenes of the city, the powers of th body, too much eufeebied to give zest to healthfa’ | and rural exercise, thoughts are turned inwardly | upon themselves. If the patient be @ female the approach of the menecs is looked for with anxiety as the firs? symp tov in which nature is to show her saving power im | diffusing the cfrentation and visiting the check with the bloom of health. Alas! increase of appetite has grown by what it fed on. The energies of the system are prostrated, and the whole ¢conomy is derang~l ‘The beantifal and wonderful period tn which bedy and mind undergo so fascinating a change from chill | to woman, is looked for in vain. The parent's heart bleeds in anxiety, and fancies the grave but waiting for its victim. HELMBOLD'S EXTRACT BUCHU FOR WEAKNESS ABISING FROM FE OB EARLY INDISURET attended with the fellowing symptoms: Indiap si tion to Exertion, Loss of Power, Loss of Memory, Difficulty of Breathing, General Weakness, Horror of Disease, Weak Nerves, Trembling, Dreadfal Horror of Death, Night Sweats, Cold Feet, Wake fulness, Dimness of Vision, Langu: orsal Las situde of the Muscular System, Often Enormous Ap petite with Dyspeptic Symptoms, Hot Hands, Flash ing of the Bods, Dryness of the Skin, Pallid Coante nance and Eruptions on the Face, Pain in the Back, Heaviness of the Eyelids, Frequently Black Spots Flying before the Eyes, with Temporary Su‘fasion and Loss of Sight, Want of Attention, Great Mobili. ty, Bestlesness, with Horror of Society, Nothing ix more desirable to such patients than Solitade, and nothing they more dread, for fear of themselves; no no repose of mapner,no earnestness, no spculation, but a burried transition from one question to another. THESE SYMPTOMS, IF ALLOWED To Go | ON—WHICH THIS MEDICINE INVARIABLY REMOVES—SOON FOLLOW LOSS OF POWER, FATUITY AND EPILEPTIC FITS, IN ONE OF WHICH THE PATIENT MAY EXPIRE. Daring the superintendenee of Dr. Wilson at the Bloomingdale Asylum, this ead result occurred to | two patients, Beason had for a time left them, and both died of epilepsy. They were of both sexes, and about twenty years of age. Who can say that these excestes are not frequently followed by those direful diseases, Insanity and Consumption? The records of the Insane Asylams and the melancholy deaths by Consumption, bear | ample witness to the truth of these assertions, Ia | Lunatic Asylume the most melancholy exhibition | appears. The countenance is actually sodden and | quite destitute; neither mirth nor grief ever visits it. Should a sound of the voice occur itis rarely ar | tieulate. “ With wofal measures wan despair | Low eullen sounds their grief beguiled.” | While we regret the existence of the above dis. j eases and symptoms, we are prepared to offer an in- valuable gift of chemistry for the removal of the con | sequences. | | HELMBOLD'S } | FLUID EXTRACT OF BUCUHU. | ‘There is no tonic like it. It is an anchor of hops | to the physician and patient. This is the testimony | of all who have ased or prescribed it, | | Beware of connterfeits and those cheap dec octions called Buchu, most of which are prepared by self styled doctors, from deletorions ingredients, and offered for sale at ‘leas price” and r botiles, | &c. They are unreliable and frequently ingurious | Ask for Helmbold’s. Take no other. Delivered to any address. Describ: all communics | | HELMBOLD'S lar symptoms ia FLUID EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA | THE GREAT PLOOD PUEIFIER AND BEAU- TIFIER OF THE COMPLEXION, Will radically exterminate from the «patem Serofala, | Syphilis, Fever Sores, Ulcers, Sore Eyes, Sore Legs, | Sore Mou Sore Head, Bronchitis, Skin Diseasos, | Salt Bheum, Oankers, Ru nings from the Ear, White Swellings, Tumors, Cancerous Affections, Nodes, Rickets, Glandular Swellings, Night Sweats, Rash, Tetter, Humors of all Kinds, Chronic Rhea matism, Dyspepsia, and all diseases that have been established in the system for years. HELMBOLD'S CATAWBA GRAPE PILLS. ‘The Most Reliable Purgative and Cathartic Kown— Bupersedinz Salte, Maguesia, etc , in Bick or Nervous Headache, Jaundice, Indigestion, Constipation, Dyspepsia, Billiousness, Liver Com- plaints, General Debility, ete. No nausea, no grip- ing pains, but mild, pleasant and safe in operation. ‘They are purely vegetable, being componed of Ca- tawbs Grape Juice and Fluid Kxtrac Bhubarb. Beware of those cheap patent pills, carelessly pre- pared by inexperienced persons, most of which con ‘tain either calomel, mercury or otber deleterious drugs. HELWBOLDS GENUINE PREPARATIONS. Established upward of twenty years. Prepared by way, New York, and 204 South Tenth Srect, Philadelphia, Pa. aE DRUGGISTS EVERYWHERE. « STEAMBOAT LINES. y peed Lire? of TAIES anno rece Ema Basmati Sentra ee UTON AND ChOkuE ROW, b. — van we 14 North Wharree phish pleat ph - ~ — Ceo . WEDNES Rirhee GEDE £3 Mase rireet 2 OO” Alexan n ¥) A . jo Sakti ane CLUDE 4 00.,.16 Bors Wharvee Pr U, ® MAL mOUTE 70 NouFOLK. com a ae Steawer Lady of the Lake. James [nk , ORmermE n Keanche Ravivoad tor ait parts.n wen the Revoroing 3 = ieee ares Cor 1th strest and New Fe ene 9 Mo Mpleht rscoteed at Th strest whart ‘afar hap iret-ciase fare to Norfolk, $4 ray if Stcvud-classfareto Morfolk: G3: reek OF STEA urs aerewrrs WASHINGTON AND NEW YORK, Hereafter the Fine Siramships B.C. KNIOW and JUBN GIBSON, will make requiar “ | SERB Apo ces Baw Tonk at Se EXANDRIA SHINGTON @ i —Lesv: ww GEORGETOWN. sa follows rt M EBCHANT'S LINE J. W. TROMPSON, President. | QAORTEST AND QUICKEST LINE SOUTH, } Seas Rechonend Predarertan loa and Potomac Line —Steamers leave | Seventh street Wharf, twice daily! Si ™. excepted.) at 7 e.m.endT Ania avenue nr BADWAY'S READY RELIEF CURES THE WORST PAINS iN FROM ONE TO TWENTY MINUTES NOT ONE HOUR sfler roading this advertisement need any one SUFFER WITH PAIN. RADWAYS READY RELIEF iS 4 CURB FOR BVERY PAIN. FZ st was the first, and is THE ONLY PALN REMEDY that instantly stops the most excract tp feet ce eee eg organs, by ope application. "© Net alande oe IN FROM ONE TO TWENTY MINUTES, ous, Neuralgic or prostrated with disease may suffer, RADWAY'S READY RELIEF WILL AFFORD INSTANT EASE. INFLAMMATION OF THE KIDNEYS, INFLAMMATION OF THE BLADDER INFLAMMATION OF THE BOWELS. CONGESTION OF THE LUNGS ORE THBOAT, DIFFICULT BREATHING, PALPITATION OF THE HEABT, BYSTERICS, CROUP, DIPTHERIA. CATARBH, INFLUENZA HEADACHE, TOOTHACHE. NEURALGIA, RHEUMATISM, OOLD CHILLS, AGUE CHILLS. The application of the READY RELIEF to the o js where the Bart or pare bee = paimor difficulty existe wil ‘Twenty drops in hy tambler SfoMath, HEARTBURN, © gy) Y. SIt ACHE. DIAKKHOA, DYSENTERY, Colic, WIND IN THE BOWELS oudoll INTERNAL PAINS. of RAD drops tne from c ne from change of water will tn Ch SPISMS. SOUR o> ‘Travelers shonld always carry @ bottle WAYS READY RELIEF with tem kt in water will preveut sickness or of water. [tis better than F as 8 stimulant. FEVER AND AGUE. ND AGUE cared for cents. There talagent inthis world that will core e. and all other Malar FEVE) is pot a rem Fever and Scarlet. Ty by RADWAY BEAD You. PILLS) ¥ BELIEF. “Fit conte por bottle. DE. RADWAY'S Sarsaparilliam Reselvent, THE GREAT BLOOD PURIFIER. Ee drop of the SARSAPARILLI RESO! VENT comm might the Blond ~¥ ammeanicates thi Blood, 3 Uri futoca of the ey'etemn tne ot tion of ite, for it repaire thew be with new. and sound material, "Serdwla, & material. Soaiy le . the jiandsant days’ axe siner of suet botemt power to cure them. If the patient, daily becoming reduced by the Wastes aud d ition, thet, fs continaally pr > rapid. and every day the p. himself growing better and sirouzer gesting better, appetite improving, and Sesh and weight increasing. Not only dows the 8: cel all known remed Scrofulons, Constitutional and Skin d iw the only positive cure for KIDNEY AND BLADDER COMPLAINTS,