Evening Star Newspaper, February 10, 1883, Page 7

RELIGIOUS NOTES. CUCRCHES HERE AND ELSEWHERE. rs’ devotion at St. Matthews will take place on March 25th, —The Fort lie ty well settled that Rey. Richard nd (M. E.) church, South Wash- ington, will be reappointed for another year. — An interesting revival is in progress at the Fitth Baptist chureh, Virginia avenue, near 414 z thwest, conducted by the r, and there have already — It is pr Provincial of the Se era Province, with ysius, has recently Lat the Church of St. Francis X. ). in New York, probably the most suc- ion ever held in that city. ylvania conference of the on will be held at Williams- eh ist, Bishep J.J. Esher, of ». presiding. There are no churches of ion in this District, but there are @ number in Western Maryland. — tn most of the Methodist churches of the District preparations are being made for the ‘y anniversaries, and some of the Sun- js will present attractive programs. pfs expect to take up to the conference r collections than ever before. —The revival of religion that has been In sat North Capitol M. E. church for the past few weeks has been the means of the con- version of twenty-eizht persons, three-fourths beme heads of families. Fifteen have united with the church on probation, and three by let- ter from other churches. The revival services Will be continued. — Rev. Dr. Huntley, of Appleton, Wis., who last week telegraphed his acceptance of the pastorate of Metropolitan M. E, church, is ex- pected here in the first week in April, and will ye the duties of the pulpit on the 8th of is not an entire out two years azo He is a man of fine e and impressive speaker. —At MeKenaree church, Rev. C. Herbert Rich- n, pastor, a very interesting revival meet- ing is in progress. There have been some twen- . (Rey. Mr. 1), Union, (Rev. ¥i tins are in progress, and at H (Rey. Mr. Hartsock). there is a quiet mee Progre-s, and members are taken in nearly every wee — Rey. T. J. Tewes, who was appointed to St. Mary's Catholie church last year, succeeding er Allg, fonnd the ehureh lighted by and has since had gas introduced. Under the con ation has grown, improved and new life zenerally ntemplating at no ongrezation, to are ad hopes ne le to enla it. The forty hours’ de- jon was held here from Sunday to Tuesday last. an church—tke Garfield at portion intended for the chool will be ready for occupancy ina nths, s by May Ist, bat the in- terior will net pre f lication 1 to complete which, with the ground, will cost In the me the pastor, grezation, are not in their old edi- ipi ed to 1th street, near holdi services Tegu- held nightly. ‘k, of the M. E. church, who has deen « at his home in Syracuse, N. ¥., fs much better. — Rev , the oldest Baptist min- ister in Vermont, died about ten days ago, aged Binety-four years. —The Presbyterians have In Japan 12 ehurcies with 2.000 members, and a theological seminary at Tokio. — Rey. Chas. S. Barrett, late of New York, Was on Thursday evening last installed pastor of the Hamden Presbyterian church, in Baltimore eouniy. — St. Georges Episcopal church, New York, With the beginning of Dr. Rainsford’s pastorate has become a free seat churen—the ren! pews having been abolished. Smith. of Halifax, N. S., some sago established a Sunday school trom which a ehureh of 150 members has grown, and it now numbers 600 children. — Miss Susan Gaffney, of Baltimore, on Mon- day last, at Mt. DeSales Academy, Catonsville, Baltimore county received as a novitiate of the Order of the ation. -—Kev. Father Martineau is waking up the Catholic churches In and about Montreal on the of temperance, and has within a few s obtained 6,000 signatures to the pledge. — Revs. T. M. C. Stewart and H. M. Brown, both colored pastors of New York, sailed from New York to-day for Monrovia, and will enter berian on their duties as professors inthe Lil eollexe. great chureh-debt raiser, Mr. Edward s hard at work among debt-burdened cifie coast. In San Francisco, «eles, Oakland and other places, he has «i the people raise large suins of money. shop Keane, of Richmond, in his lenten y against marriages be- persons of different religious faith, it he holds, impossible for them to unite in the holy duty 0 molding their ehild- Fen to faith and virtue. — There have been 40 or 50 conversions at the Fevival in progress at the Washington street, Baltimore. M. P. church, The delegate to the annual conference has been instructed to ask for the return of Rev. R. S. Rowe, pastor, at an inerease of $200 in salary. — Hanson Place M. E. church, Brooklyn, Rev. Dr. J: U. Peck, on Sunday last, received 80 members—58 probationers and 22 by letter. St. Jobn’s M. E. church. New York, has received since wary Ist 9 members—36 by letter— and during the conference year 146. —kev. Dr. W. G. Schauffer, the veteran mis- sionary who died recently in New York, was a native of Stuttgart, Germany. In 1831 he was ordained as a missionary in this country, and, going to Turkey. he labored there for eighteen Years. and subsequently in Austria, Hungary and in Moravia, returning here in 1877. He Was one of the best linguists in the land, speak- ing fluently over twenty languages. he evangelist Moody has always had a great aversion to sitting for his photograph. A few weeks azo an English photographer sue- ceeded in taking a picture of him, but the print- iny was limited to a few copies, to be distributed select list of friends. This is the first » twenty-five years that Moody bas faced & photographic camera. Now he has boucht the nevative in order to prevent the multiplica~ tion of the portrait. —There Is m Speculation among the mem- bers of the M. E. churches as to the appoint- ments to be made at the next conference. Althou:ch there will be no necessity, under the Fale a- to the term of pastors, for many changes yet. it would not be surprising if there should a number made. Of course Dr. Baer will leave Metropotitan, and he ts named now for McKendree Chapel, Baltimore, but it is said his chances are best for Broadway Station, in Balti- more. Kev. C. H. Richardson will conclude his term at McKendree. and, it is thought, he will either exchange with Rev. B. m Brown, formeriy presiding elder, now at lerick, or that he will succeed Rev. Dr. Dashiel at Hagers- town. Rev. Dr. T. E. France, of 4th street, Navy Yard, it is said, will go to Baltimore. -o-—__—_ Seven artesian wells, varying in depth from ‘800 to 1,800 ieet and possessing considerabl medicinal properties, are now running rs Peoria, Ill. A San Francisco grocer had a woman prore- cuted for theft, though she was 96 yearsold, and what shestole was ahandiul of snuf, worth three cents. The San Francisco Cal thinks traln-wrecking | pal ONE AFTERNOON. “T presume,” sald the minister's wife, “you love Ida as though she was your own child.” A foreboding of age stuck to Marcia’s heart, as she gathered in the chill with which the inno- cent remark seemed shivering. It seemed to her she turned old in an instant, as though her face fell into wrinkles and an impress as of the faded leaf set itsstamp uponher. The sunlight, fluttering like a wing upon the wall, took a shade less of gold; and all the world darkened Just so much, as in the slight moment of pause Marcia accepted her position, and decided with z to be no longer young. can imagine.” she answered, just as the "s wife looked up in surprise at the ce of silence that had dropped down between them—“I can imagine,” sald Marcia, “how one must, perforce, love an own child, though that joyous fountain of pure water has bubbled unseen and untasted throughout my life. No; I do not love Ida, dear enoush she is to me, as I suppose I would a child of my own.” The minister's wife went home, and in dis- creet confidence asked of the minister what provision there might possibly be in the next world for an old maid whose heart was filled with children. After her visitor had gone Marcia went through the house, looking for the young girl Ida. The rooms were very dainty and very pleasant, but to the mistress In her new mood they seemed a trifle stift and prim. “Well,” she sighed softly, “it ali partakes of me, I suppose. Strange that my eyes should be made to open so suddenly! I should have wished the knowledge to steal upon me grad- ually and gently, so that I might .have accus- tomed inyself to the truth, without this shock.” Wherever she found a reminder of Ida, there she thought something bright and youthful livened and beantified the rooms; while her own hat hanging in the hall, the chair she sat In, her work-basket on the stand. seemed suggestive of her own older self. 1t was not pleasant thus to realize the truth, but to this point must we all come at last. Stepping out upon the low and wide veranda, Marcia could see Ida coming up the shadowed walk, looking very young now that Marcia felt the lack of youth; she noticed how young and how sweet. Coming so out of the distance, her . though slow, seemed elastic and full of and she made a pretty picture. Her akirts yere light and airy, a fleecy drapery half fell, half clung around her shoulders, and the droop- ing brim of her hat just allowed a glimpse of her sunny hair. By her side walked their neigh- bor, Herman France, and Ida's eyes were cast ‘n toward the roses in his hand, never once | lifting to meet his frank yet somewhat dreamy gaze. A pang was thrust again through Marcia. and she wondered tiat she should just be regretting her loneliness, when she had the knowledge pressed home upon her that she was quite beyond such gallant attention. The two were doubt- less born for each other, and the solitary woman on the vine-climbed veranda was quick to con- #ess how well they walked together, how hi monious they seemed, and what a pleasing con- trast they otf “By and by they will marry,” soliloquized Marcia; “and what more natural or more to be desired? Then I shall be truly alone again, and perhaps I had better indulge if in a little ot that travel which has been like the thread of a dream running through my life. Now that Iam growing old Imust take my travel or I shall never have it. I had better have taken it younger, perhaps, as it is, for old bones are Weary bones, and they like resting better than wandering. Marcia was doing a dreadful thing when she cut herself loose from youth In this way; but the trouble was that, fn contrast with the fresh. girlish bloom of Ida, she felt her outside bo: must seem old and worn, and that she was bound in duty to age her spirit also. All unconscious that Marcia stood concealed by the vines, the couple strolled up the rose- bordered path, and Marcia exageerated to her- self the appearance of interest they seemed to have In each other. “Let us stay out here.” said Mr. France “Every breath is a luxury ainong these vines on such a pertect afternoon.” He took off his straw hat as he spoke, and Marcia saw for the hundredth time how white and how broad his forehead was, but she had a peculiar notice for his manly strength of feature and outline to-day. She admired him more than she had ever done till now. “Alllovers make such excuses,” she mur- mured. ‘He cares nothing whatever about the luxurious air. He simply wants to be alone with Ida, and he ts afraid they will meet me if they come into the house.” Ida’s laugh was like a little rill of music, as she twirled her long-stemmed roses and re- plied: ‘One may have duties, you know; which for- bid yielding to temptation. I ought to be practicing this moment, Mr. France, instead of idly putting appendixes to our walk in this way.” Nevertheless, she swung her skirts lightly round, and sat down on the lowest step, cross- ing her pink wrists, and flashing up at her com- panion throuch her eyelashes one of those swift and daring glances in which innocent girlhood often betrays its innocence. “I can only imagine you as playing at duty,” he answered lightly. “Surely you were made to do Just what pleases you. No mus/everought to come into your life, little one.” “E don’t fot | being called ‘little one,” an- swered Ida, half pouting. “It’s too patronizing and too tender—a great deal too tender.” “She is right,” thought Marcia, determinedly. ‘It is eminentty proper she should keep him at nce. When she is my age, she will see ight she is.” “It is so easy to shock a very young person’s sense of propriety by hurting lier dignity,” he laughed. ‘Now when you are old, say as old as Marcia and I, hey will have no pride of di; nity. and you will wonder how at seventeen you could have put much stress on the term ‘little one.’ See now, I am twice yourage. Iam thirty-four, and yet I abate the natural superi- ority of my years, and will ask you to be so friendly as to call meby my first name when you speak to me. Will you call me Herman?” “Good gracious!” ejaculated Marcia, under her breath. The request seemed to her almost as equivalent to a proposal; but not so Ida. ‘That young lady responded very composedly: “Why, yes; Marcia and I always do call a0 Herman when we speak of you to each other.” Marcela shuddered in her lair _at this betrayal; but in spite of the frankness of her speech, 1d seemed filled with quick notions akin to coquettishness. She played with her roses, her color coming and going with her breath, her head dropped in a half-bashful pose; and now her shouldets seemed prominent to her, now her elbows, now her feet, and she recognized each in its turn. Marcia was not well ac- quainted with young girls, and she accused this one of “bridling”—“bridling.” Then she’| wondered how she could have developed such a feeling against Ida, and berated herself as a “horrid old maid.” “I never knew just your relationship to Mar- cia,” mused Herman, after a little pause. “Not any real relationship at all,” returned Ida, warmly. “My father was only her step- brother, and that makes it seem the kinder of herto make me so welcome here, doesn’t it?” 1 should have no home were it not for Marcia— you see I never could say Aunt Marcla, because she seems no older; or not much older than I. But she is a great deal older—she is thirty-six. You wouldn’t believe that Marcia was thirty- six, would you? She is older than you are, even.” Poor Marcia! She cowered among the leaves and hot tears came to her eyes. “It isn't that I'm not willing to acknowledge myself old,” she thought 1n sobs; “but it seems so dreadful to tell him that I am thirty-six Jn cold blood.” “Marcia will never marry, L suppose,” Ida gossiped on, in an airy manner. There you may be mistaken, my little friend,” sald Herman, languidly, “at any rate, let us oS See, 1 I “O yes, I hope so,” assented biting h ea pe ida, biting her “Because,” he continued, looking at her strangely, as if to see how she would construe his words, ‘‘as people grow older they feel the need of husband or wife. It is the craving for intimate companionship, which one may put off without being rid of. Do Rardin that be- cause [ am past thirty years I shall never offer my ripe love, fearing it may have gone to de- cay? Oh no, Ida. 1 shall ‘marry some time, though this is premature confidence, into which pl pane not have taken you. I may be denied er all.” Ida still toyed with the blossoms in her ‘as Marcia stole away on tiptoe, blushing at her- self to have been an eavesdropper thus far into the conservation, and certain she ought at any rate to leave Herman to approach the mo- mentous jon without other listener than Ida, belt that having gone so far he was sure to do so. “He snould have asked my " she thought indignantly. “Since I am old to Ida, my years should be respected. Yet I remember now,” and she uncor A CHARMING SKETCH. | herself; but she felt scarce so old as an hour be- fore. and she could not deny to herself that she was a trifle pleased with Herman. When she reachel cover, a pang seized her again, asshe thought of the romantic two left for acertainty alone with a sweet breath ot imaginative happiness blowing about them, and she wondered just how tender the words might. be that passed from one tothe other. She would like to hearHerman pleading and making sweet vows. Herman had always pleasing to her, and she would like to view him once asa pleading lover, because it would be so new, and put him in a tender light. . Was it possible to think of Herman in a ten- der light? Yes, she could In imagination hear his voice, low and vibrant; she could see his eyes filled with hope, and his outstretc| hand; she copld feel the grasp of his love a8 it drew Its object to itself. And then she started, and put her hands on her burning cheeks. Why, what was this? Could it be that she could fancy it a delight to know Herman thus? Oh, what a shame—what a shame to thrust the confession through her heart that she loved him! She scourged herself with reproaches, She was in her dotage, she told herself; she was mad; she was worse than a fool. It was not strange that she should have loved him. She had known him and gone on know- ing him these several years, and she was not a woman to be violent in any passion. Her af- fection had ripened like a slow fruit in its late season, that needs but one warm day to bring it to its climax. Lo! her climax was come, and she stood apart, as a person might, view- ing it with a sort of awe. It was an hour and more before she was calm enough to out the matter collectedly. During that. hour she owned she would have taken Ida’s place in that interview with Herman, tf she could, even to the complete banishment of the young girl. She forced herself to face bare facts. With a deep sense of humillation she realized that she was jealous, maliciously jealous of Ida tor the moment. She felt eevee! she felt like overturning and destroying, like torturing and putting to the trial; and wondered, as from out a sort of dream within whose strange tangleshe was inextricably involved. She laughed and cried, then soothed herself like a child, bathed her face, smoothed her halr, put away all trace of emotion, and told herself she had done with the whole thing, and buried it as in a grave. Feeling like a very aged person, Marcia went down soberly to see after the young people. She calledHerman “‘young people,” in her mind. She found Ida alone, with her roses torn and scat— tered at her feet. The young girl sat deep in thought, with her eyes on vacancy,and she drew a deep, unconscious sigh, which repeated itself, even while Marcia observed her. “I had @ proposal myself once, when I was young,” thought Marcia. ‘Did I look so lost and so sentimental after it, I wonder? But then I didn’t accept him, and perhaps that’s the dif- ference. Ida must have accepted Herman.” “I thought Herman was here, {da. Before she spoke even Marcia’s jealously was quite vanished, and she felt her old kindness toward her young companion return. “Herman? Oh, yes, Herman was here, but he is gone now,” answered Ida, starting; and Marvia told herself he had proposed, and Ida was evasive. “Come and sit down, Marcia,” continued Ida by and by; then she laughed happily, and blushed a bit at the sweetness of the secret she held. “Herman just told me something; but It is a confidence, mind, and he will tell you him- self whenever there is a best chance. But you musn’t hint to him, Marcia, until he tells you, that I have said anything at all.” She looked prettier than ever now, in a twitter of livell- ness. “Are you happy, Ida, in knowing this confl- dence? “Does it make you happy, dear?” asked Marcia, soberly. “Oh, Marcia, Marcia, I do believe you snes Yes, yes; it does make ‘ne vlad z up, Ida crossed the step. and kis Marcia extraya tly with little soit ses, dabbing her lips, her cheeks. her eye: her hair, and whatever else her mouth happene to hit. Suddenly the bitterness descended upon Mar- ciaagain. “They put me aside like an old woman,” she -thought, “till ‘tis necessary to speak to me for torm’s sake. I'd scarce have thought that of Herman, after hi paking so kindly of my being ‘thirty-six. V of course, he couldn’t be expected to think of ny feelings.” “O Marcia, tell me were you ever !n love, and what is it like?” sald Ida audaciously, sitting down at Marcia’s feet, and crossing hands upon old woman's knee. It Is the dreadfulest condition,” began poor Marcia, and then she bit her silence off at its beginning. “I see you have had acquaintance with it,” said Ida, quickly. “And why is it you never married?, It seems so right for you to be pumariet, I never thought to ask you be- fore.” “I suppose there are many men in this world, some one of whom I might have loved and married,” Marcia returned, finding a comfort in generalizing thus; “but providence never threw us into circumstances which compelled love and marriage. It isall a happening, anyhow, you know. The man chance had in view for me married some other woman, I suppose, without waiting to see me; and the man I might have loved did the same.’ ‘*O Marcia! how cold blooded!” cried Ida. “T believe it {s all a destiny—all meant to be, and just as sure to’come round right as the sun is. I wouldn't think otherwise for the world.” That’s very natural,” said Marcia. “ Well,” exclaimed Ida, after a pause, “if here isn’t Herman coming back again!” Then she fluttered like a bird about to take wing, and os- cillated from one side to the other of her perch on the step. ‘Yes; Ithink I'd better go in she said, hastily, after watching him a moment. “Don't you come, Marcia; maybe he’s come back feeling that he couldn't walt to tell you.” Then she ran away. “Very well,” Marcia thought calmly. “he couldn't wait, as Ida says, and he’s come back to ask my consent. I shall give it in as few words as possible, and I hope he will make a few words of it, too.” But she began to tremble when he sat down beside her. The afternoon was falling to its close now,but Herman was either very warm or else somewhat agitated. “I will walt for him to begin in the way he leases. Of course he can’t expect me to begin,” arcia sald, silently. “I have been here before, this afternoon, Marcia,” he did begin presently, but he stopped there somewhat uncertainly. “Yes, I saw you sitting here with Ida,” she said, with a sudden resolve to help him out, and have it over. “Ida is a pleasant little girl—pretty, too, don't you think 80?” he asked. The interview was painful to Marcia, under the circumstances naturally very painful, and it could not fail to be distressing when he praised Ida 80 openly. So she answered Sora ae all to this. By some imperceptible motion he was coming closer to her, and in less than a minute he sat almost next to her. She raised her eyes to his face and observed him with a clear gaze. Then he put out his hand and cl her fin- gers. His touch was very grateful to her, and & feeling of pleasant warmth passed up her arm to the shoulder, but she rigidly repressed it. “He thinks of me as a sort of mother-in-law, and he is seeking to propitiate me by taking my hand. Ihave heard that men try every means to win over their mother-in-law,” thought Marcia, bitterly. ‘His mother-in-lat She was stili looking at him with a hardened gaze, and she saw that he had put off his usual manner, and had assumed an intense earnest- ness with which she tailed to be en rapport. Nevertheless, she determined that he babohtee much in earnest, and somewhat emb: 4 She thought she ought tohelp him again, go she said gravel; “You need not go on, Herman. I give you my consent without your asking for it. God bless you!” “My dearest Marcia! You do! How good of you to anticipate me!” he exclaimed, and imme- diately threw his disengaged arm about her. She drew back somewhat alarmed at this strange outburst. ‘I think,” she faltered, “Ida wouldn’t like to have roe hug me that way.” She felt it was hard that he should, after all, think she was so old it was no harm to hug her. He laughed delightedly. ny should Ida know?” he asked. “You wouldn't tell her, would you, dear?” and then he laughed. again. “Of course I shall tell her!” she cried, in- dignantly; ‘and you are beside yourself, Her- = when you say dear and dearest, sir, to me!” “I will 9 to my wife as tenderly as I lke,” he sald, firmly. A light broke Hike a broad bar of sunshine Dene at nd thi very matte e roses at once, and somet! be rok — Sag ee Henman pet ers 3 identy she angi ropp! ‘away from her like leaves, and knew thata sory oF tm Blow had leaped to her face. bashfulness, and tassel that hi d yi a had e iin "0," he 2 s length. “You are but twenty, If! a | or body ages, what account should we take of time? Ido not wit ‘youa day younger; you Gre fect are.” — a8 yo “Nevertheless,” ¢he. replied, half sorrowful, “[ shall never forgive ayself for having been | based two years old when you were born.' “ie is asin too small to be forgiven,” he sald tly. a “am afraid [da would have been better,” she suggested. “I thought in the first place it was Ida, you know, andthat you had asked my consent to marry her.” « He was highly am “In spirit and expe- rience I am at least years old,” he an- swered, still in his d ing, gentle way. “If I had my rights F should besbald-headed and afflicted with rhetimatigm. Fancy, then, my marrying Ida! She is the very newest of new milk, while with you, Marcia, or at thirty-six, the cream just begins to rise.” “TI do not feel old—tot now.” She smiled contentedly. A girlish volce wound merrily in between their own. “Do you think it is destiny, Marcia, or cir- cumstance?” it said; and when they turned in some confusion, Ida was standing in the door- way. “I should judge that Herman had con- fided in you!” she continued, mischievously. Sa ae ‘The Night Side of Nature. From the Cincinnat! Commeroial-Gazetts. Shakespeare never revealed more clearly the depth of his gentus than when he put into the mouth of Hamlet the words: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, ‘Than are dreamed of in your philosophy.” It may be wise to affirm the subordination of all things to the laws of nature, for that this Is @ universe of law will be equally admitted by the devout thelist and the naturalistic philoso- pher. The question remains to be considered, What are the laws of nature? It is the natural law of a watch that its hands should traverse the dial plate in a hour’s time, but its owner violates no law by turning the hand in a minute’s time. He only supersedes an ordin- ary law by an extraordinary and exceptional one. Shall we deny the Rulor of all things, or to evolutionary process, if the supposition be more agreeable in this.form, the shame replace- ment of the common by the special? It is a fact that, either with or without good reason, the folk lore and history of all nations abound in marvelous instances of second sight, of apparitions, and other occurrences, which those who believe that the natural pro- cesses of which they are cognizant account for everything dismiss as absurd “ghost sto- ties.” It by no means follows that if some ot these narrations be true—and the existence of many counterfeit, pieces may be held to pre- suppose that of the genuine coin—they must be accepted as supernatural and as proving all that spiritualists claim. The wiser course is to regard them as the outcropping of some hitherto unknown law, and examine each case on its intrinsic merits. Certain planetary disturbances led Leverrier to con- jecture the existence of some heavenly body as yet unseen, and the telescope soon established he validity of his hypothesis. The true philo- sophical process is the inductive. When a sut- ficient number of facts has been gathered it 1s fair to generalize provisionally from them, Should new phenomena appear, inconsistent with what has been concluded, a revision of judgment must be made. Thus Newton kept In abeyance his theory of gravitation fur several years, because it did not seem to harmonize with certain lunar movements. Reconciliation was finally attained, but should any discovery beattained, even in our own day, wholly irrecon- cilabie with gravitation, the hypothesis which has become the ground work of all material philosophy would ve sh and perhaps incur the fate which Judge Stallo in his “Concepts” has marked out for the atomic theory and other favorite postulates of physicists. . We do not think that enough ts yet known of what we will call extra-natural phenomena for | the formulation of any fixed law, but we claim that the reality of these phenomena has been ‘tablished by many occurren whose truth n not be denied unless we are prepared to affirm that testimony, credible re, ding all other sutjects, is a priori incredible re this. Our attention has been gurned in the pr ent direction by the publication of the Heapli Gh ory, which go interested the late Charl Dickens. Heaphy, an English artist ot hi personal and professional reputation, wa gayed in 1558 to paint the portraits of the family of a gentleman named Kirkbeck. Mr. and Mrs. Kirkbeck, who were strangers to him, visited him in his studio, and made the con- tract, leaving their card, but omitting their address. Consequently he was at a loss where to find them. This occurred in May. In the September follow! while dining at a coun- try house, he ecemed -to hear the word Kirk- beck sounded in his'ear. He had forgotten, until that moment, all’ about his visitors, an the reminder ot their name led him to ask it his entertainers knew any such persons. He was told that they lived in another part of the country, and thereupon wrote to Mr. Kirkbeck, who replied by urging him to come to his house. On his way thither a handsome young lady en- tered the railway carriage and journeyed with him until their routes separated, she taking the London train. They talked a good deat with each other, and on separating she said they might meet again. On arriving at the Kirk- becks he found the family out, but was sur- prised on entering the drawing-room to see his fellow traveler. He could not guess how she got there, and expressed his regret that he could not have traveled in the same conveyance. “That would haye been rather difficult,” she rejoined. She also asked him if he could paint her por- trait. He was not introduced to her when the family returned, and conjectured that she might be the governess. No one talked to her, but she sat at the table eating and drinking quite heartily.though we are not told who helped her, an extra chair was placed for her, pre- suming her to be the apparition she turned out to be. Possibly these fixtures were as unreal as her personality. In the evéning he talked with her in the drawing-room, but no one else spoke to her. On going to his room at night, Mr. Heaphey asked the servant about the young lady, but the man only stared and knew of no such person. On asecond visit to the house, some weeks later, he was positively assured by his host and hostess that there was no lady at the table besides Mrs. Kirkbeck. The artist wondered, but kept his secret to himself, One day in November the mysterious lady appeared in his studio—the servant after- ward denied letting any one in—and again asked to have her portrait painted to oblige her father. She had brought an engraving of a lady of rank whom she closely resembled, as a help, and sai while he madesomepreliminary sketches. When she left she sald “good-bye” in a very emphatic way, and, as Mr. Heaphey fancied, seemed rather to fade into the darkness than to pass through it. Shortly after he was detained at Lichfield while on a journey, and finding it dull at the inn, recollected he had an old acquain- tance intown. He sent him a noteinviting him to pass the evening with him, addressing him as Mr. Lute. The person bearing the name came— there was no other Lute in the town—but ex- pieces his surprise, as he did not know Mr. jeaphey. The latter then remembered that his friend was named Clyne, and wondered how he could have made the mistake. On his apologizing for his blunder, Mr. Lute replied: here 1s no need of apology. It happens that BS are the very person I most wished to see. ‘ou are a painter, and I: want you to paint a rtrait of my daughter. :Can you come to my jouse immediately for the. purpose?” He ac- cepted the invitation and went to the house, where he was introduced to his daughter, bright girl of fifteen peat. She was quite com- municative, and said that ever since her sister Caroline had died her father had been insane, was always seeing lier, and was subject to tear- ful delusions. At present he was sick and had retired to hisroom, The artist tried to make sketches from the hiving, sister's description: but none of them pleased the Invaiid. The yong, girl said phe had had an engrav. ing of a lady, M. » Who was much like her sister, but that. it had disappeared. This recalled to Mr. Heaphey his mysterious visitor. The engraying she had given him and his rough sketches were.in his portmanteau. He showed them the. giao asked him with surprise where he got them. The print was her own copy, as it had on it certain marks which she recognized. she carried the sketches to the father, who approved them, and at once began to grow better. He assured his visitor, that, though deemed insane, he had not been so, though, by kind of second sight, he had beheld his de daughter—ghe had died in the pre- vere fan the artist in the , with inner table, other Seana which they met. fore. the letter that should have ‘The & young farmer, had seduced a yout Somnk of inferfor social condition. Her parents, by entreaties and threats, induced him marry her. His consent was on the condition that the nuptials should be celebrated secretly, and that he should take his bride away with him. They started early one morning for a retired church, and not long after the bridegroom wrote that they were living in London. In course of time suspicions arose in the minds of the girl’s rela- tives thatall wasnot right. Her mother finally dreamed, more than once, that her daughter. appe: to her and declared that she was buried under the Red Barn, @ building that stood on the way to the chur A search was instituted, and the missing girl's corpse discovered where the specter had said it would be found. Her husband was arrested. It was proved that he had lied about his place of residence, and that he was on the point of marrying another woman. He pleaded that he had shot the girl accident- ally in a quarrel that broke out on the way to the church, but, betore he was hanged, made admissions of guilt, ite Lord Lyt- The sudden death of the profil, telton*at a certain hour, in conformity to the alleged prediction of a ghost, has been accounted for on the two grounds of the effects of imagina- tion and secret suicide, but the a) nce of Lord Lyttelton himself, on the aisne of his death, to a friend several miles away, has never been explained away, and ts thoroughly attested. Those interested in the details are referred to Sir Bernard Burke's ‘‘Miscellanies.” Still more remarkable is the experience of that coolest of Scotchmen, the late Lord Brougham. When a youth In a college he had discussed the reality of apparitions and kindred subjects with his friend G. Their debates ended with drawing up an agreement, written in their blood, that which- ever died the first should appear to the othe and thus demonstrate the reality of another life. They soon atter separated. G. went to India, and Brougham had almost forgotten him. In December, 1799, Brougham, then twenty-one years old, was traveling in Sweden, and on the 19th, at 1 in the morning, arrived at an inn where he put up, We give what followed in his own words: “Thad taken a warm bat nd while lying in it and enjoying the comfort oi the heat after the late ceceios Thad undergone, I turned my heaa around, looking towards the chair on which I had deposited my clothes, as I was about to get up out of the bath. Onthe chair sat G. looking calmly at me, How I got out ot the bath I know not, but on recovering my senses I found myself’ sprawling on the floor. The apparition, or whatever It was, that had taken the hkeness of G. had disappeared. The vision produced such a shock that I had no in- clination to talk about it, or to speak about it even to Stuart; but the impression it made upon me was too yividto be easily forgotten; and so strongly wasI affected by it that I have here written down the whole history with the date, 19th December, and all the partivulars as they are now fresh before me.” He adds his conviction that he must have fal- en asleep, yet says, “I could not discharge from | my mind the Impreasion that G. must have died, and that his appearance to me was to be receiv ed by me as proof of a future state.” This rec- ord, it must be remembered, was made immedi- ately after the occurrence of the remarkable Phenomenon. In preparing bis autobiography for publication, under date of October 16, 1363, Brougham says: “I have Just been copying out from my Jour- nal the account of this strange dream. ‘Cértis- slma mortis imago! And now to finish the story,begun above years since. Soon atter my return to Edinh 4 19h of December ! Yet, when one reflects number of dreams which night after throuzh our brains, the number of ptween the vision and the event fewer and {chances would warrant us to Singular coinciden on the are, perh fair calcula expect. His lord: explanation by means of the curious word is hardly satisfy! There are tince tors to the problem: the compact: second, the apparition; coincidence of the lat When there are three separate points of “coincidence,” the naturalistic solution is much more than three times as unlikely as where only one exists. To avoid multiplication of {lustrations, though we have a long cata sl ly remarkable as the fultillment of a duplex dream. Mr. Rus: Sturgis, the senior ‘ner of Baring Brothers, who has $ust retired from business, is Kussell the third In the line of the old New England family to which he belongs. in his early days be was a merchant in the East Indies, as were some of his ancestors before him. One night, about the beginning of the present centur, his grandparents dreamed tuat their son, wi had sailed for the far east some months be- fore, was In the midst of a battle on the deck of a ship which had been assailed by dark-skinned savages. We say grandparents, for both father and mother were surprised to find that each had dreamed the same thing. So impressed were they that they made an immediate record of the incidents as they saw them. Some time later they received a letter from their son telling how his ship, while at the Ladrone Islands, had been attacked by the piratical natives, who were driven off only after a desperate fight. Are not “coincidences” like these, and like many more that might be mentioned, proofs at least of workings ot the human mind which can- not be interpreted by the ordinary rules of psychology? Are tney not aclass of operations deserving of careful study by those who will yield neither to superstitious credulity nor hem- pér themselves by antecedent theories which sitate the rejection of all that does not fall within every day experience? J.T.P. ———-e-______ Saturday Smiles. Says the Philadelphia North American: “There is a marked difference between getting up with the lark and staying up to have on You bet your boots there is. The former is very dis- agreeable.--Boston Post. One hotel in Albany has a knotted rope at every window for guests to let themselves down by. And already three men have scraped the hide all off the inside of their legs while sliding down during false alarms of fire. How many apples did Adam and Eve eat? Some say Eve 8‘and Adam 3, a total of 10 only, Others figure the thing out differently. Eve 8 and Adam 8 also; total, 16. But if Eve 8 and Adam 82, certainly the total will be 90. Scien- tile men, however, on the strength of the theory that the antediluvians were a race of giants, reason something like this: Eve 81 and Adam 82; total, 163. Wrong again. What could be clearer than if Eve 8land Adam 812, the total was 893? Then If Eve 81st and Adam 812, would not the total be 1623? Perhaps, after all, the following 1s the true solution: Eve 814 Adam, Adam 8124 Eve; total, . Still another calculation is possible: Eve 814 Adam, Adam 81242 oblige Eve; total, 82,056. Even this, however, may not . & sufficient quantity.’ For, though we admit that Eve 8% Adi Adam when he 8181242 keep Eve com- otal, 8,182,056. All wrong. Eve, when She $1812 many, and probably felt sorry for it, and her companion, in order to relleve her grief, 812. Therefore, Adam, if he 81814240ty Eve's depressed spits, hence both ate 81,896,854 apples.—Free Press. 0, pshaw! you mean that in Adam it was be042814240fy Eve, and it made Eve, when she 812,6 a dog. they consumed, by those kind of mathematics, 942,822,366. Next!—Texas Siftings. The meanest slight a girl can put upon an ad- mirer is to use a postal-card in refusing an offer of marriage. It proves that she doesn't actually care two centsfor him.—Philadelphia Chronicle. A Sunbury girl who married recently says that her husband would soon be a wealthy man ifhe would only work as hard now as he did when he was making love to her.—. i Caplal, “Oh, my poor heart! My heart is breaking,” walled a Chicago girl, and yet the doctor who was called in prescribed lime water, and told her she'd better leave off eating fried pork for a few days.—Detroit Free Press. ———— Waen VanpeErsizt is asked if Gould isnot a ee to Mr, 6 was rece! he knew that his visi- | own tor hed eon directed’ to him. The was finished, and the afflicted man regained his health. We need not say that the fc ing tho fat of the most we have cybondent at ‘Ve ByNO} Pe witout adirming' our bale fn os DOWLING, Auchonecer. & PRIVATE COLLECTION or FINE OIL PaINnTINas, EMBRACING ABOUT BEVENTI-FIVE CANVASSER, BEAUTIFULLY MOUNTED ™ RICH GOLD FRAMES, AT AUCTION. th dio of Mr. cette moet : seibastecsie ae, coer Gy Nona, Tuelar ‘ith strect and Ponneyiva TARY NTH ELEVEN A. M. and THREE P. M. Fartios desiring really Uret-class works of art shoud not fali to give this sale their a‘tention. 19-5 THOMAS DOWLING, Auct. JUNCANSON BROS., aucuoneers, TRUSTEES SALE OF HANDSOMF AND DFSIRA- BLE HOUSEHOLD EULMITURE, | CAMPE CONTAINED IN HOUSE $O.22 T. NORTHEAST, AT AUCTION. ae . recorded on same D. "Tih "and record < D. 1588, an ot ve A! 89, in Liber No. 10 Columbia nts Dans ‘ake Wenage, trustes, neue is the 3 . Xan first deed of trast, and we, Jose'M. Yenies and Charles . Colman, trust in the second deed of will. by direction of the holder of the bic auction, on the at TEX O'CLOCK A.M. on F SIXTEENTH, DAY OF FEBRUARY, goods, | chattels and personal pro} 1 schedules marked "/A."" e part of said desde of trust, the same being a general collection of goods and hottse- hold furnii embracing in part one ge ing Cu tains, Parlor, Bed-room, Dining-room, Kitchen Farni- ture, Boo Ornaments, etc., eto. Terms JOSE M, ¥ZNAGA, undef first deed of JOSE M. YZNAGA, RLES D. COLMAN, f9-6t under second deed of trast, ‘OHN SH“RMAN, Estate Auctic J = eee SITE staeet north work 5 SALE OF IMPROVED REAL ESTATE, UNG NO. 100 FOURIH STRELT SOUTH: & deed deceased, wileetlat pubiicareticuingtct that p opin fron son TUESDAY AWE THIRTE RTH KUARY, A.D.1883, ATHALF PAST FOUR M., all of lot numbered twenty-two (22), a paris of orptinal fous 6 Tana 9 in fad and parte origins . 7 an square num- bered caxht hundred ‘audelchtcen (O18), together with improvements. ‘ernis of sale: One-third cash: balance in aix, twelve gndesenteen months, with interest from, day’ ol ‘ale $100 to be vaid when ‘the propertr is struck of. Alloon- Veyaneine at the cost of purchaser. ‘Terms to be com- forge the rit to resell the property at the tsk Sin coat verge the right to resell the p of the defaultins purchaser. : Bole heirs of WM. H. WARD, Trustee, DOWLING. Auctioncer. OF VALUABLE IMPROVED REAL ESTATE THE ¥ OF WASHINGTON, DISTRICT UM TA: ADJOINING. TH! ‘OMAG A COTTA “COMPANY'S LANDS, AND. ND!-D BY THE LINE OF THE METROPOLI- FAN BRANCH BALTIMORE AND OHIO RAlL- By virtue of a deed of trust, dated the 24th ot Feb- wary, A. 1D, 2nd duly recoried in Laber No. of 1d called “Chil d twelve acres (11a (and east of) the lands of the Potomac Terra Cotta Company, of Thomas Mur- y’sheins, Thomas Miller's heire, M: Kichman and M. Errick, and bounded ou the wost by the line of the etopoiican branch of the Baltimore & Ohio Rail- road. e tract is in # hich state of cultivation, improved by a handsome residence and all cuthuildings needed for a farm, an by Mr. Juo. B, Wiltberyer, i ‘Tibed in sai i deed. One-half ca-h: residue in one year of sae, with interest at 6 per cent. per snium, until paid, to be secured by deed of trust on the prop e A deposit of five hundred dollars (3500) wil be ‘red, ced in the hands of the drustee by ‘onveyancing at with in ten (10) er property will be resol: at purchaser's cost, [(CHARD W. TEMPLEMAN, Trustee, skw,4w 39 Lexington street, Baltimore, ‘Md. \WHOMAS DOWLING, Auctioneer. TRUSTE: SALE OF A DWELLING HOUSE, ON FRIETEENTH STREET, NEAR O, SOUTH AND ANOTHER ON FIFTH STREET NORTHWEST, « P STREET, BOTH DESIRABLE - ‘irtue of a deed of trust from Nethan C. Dra-, er and wife and Johnson P. Thomas and wife, ted Jn'y Ist, A.D. 1872, and recoitled in No. 693, folio 87, of ths iand records of the Districtof Colum! and of the order of the Supr-me Court of the District, Golumbin, “in the case 4 Dravor ve, Hyde et al.. equity jsut deptat Sine saben ler, in front FREEBSD AY, 1 EEEENTH, DAY OF EES A. D. lot bered 8 (eight), anc north haif fubered 7 (eoven,)in square nume undred and ninety-alx),” ‘lot (twenty-four), in the subdivision of square number 510 five (hundred and ten), as made by the comml-sioucra aprointed by the court todivide the Tambig ate” alae W Se Sale fn square 510 1881, and duly recorded in’ Liber No. 971, folio! ef categach by anata an of Calumbiee ae ston ao thereby, Talal sell at public aucts ae on THURSDA pBygirtue of, a deed of trast, dated June 7 Aft t wit: twe dered ten (10), by the ai eI 5 bered three bundred and ninety-tnree ( described on tl same are an plan of said city, improved by a ment brick dwelling. chaser. All con: 5 CHARLES W. PATTERS WALTER B, WILLIAMS & OO., Auct. Gj2 TERS AUCTION BAZAAR AND LIVERY 5 70 No. 468 and 4’ Street poethwest. SALFS EVERY SATURDAY, TWELVE M. COME AND SEE US. SEND YOUR HORSES. sold: ‘rustes. . fe5-a For Other Auctions See Sth Page. SEWING MACHINES, &e. chines ‘we. have. taken’ in cachonge ‘See the Wit F — nea: ee AUKIBACH, Extensive dealer in NEW LATEST 1MPI ING MACHINES, ‘Hats and Men's Tax Mosr User ies beat diving whoo! HARTFORD SEWING. lady can use these ROR TRESS MONROF, AND THE soUre.” 4 and Florent aa Ds ore saat Dy Stopping at Piney Point * Fetuculan Conuecting th Norfeil with Botta dence and Rew, York Steamers, end. 4 at Olt Point with ke pe office, ave. Sthore1s isch ek ALERED WOU Sec'y & Trees. RYO! RTSMO MONKOS Foe NORPOrs STE woore Steamboat Gs ler L street TUESDAYS and Leaves 7th wharf THURS: YS.at 5 p.m.. and SATURDAYS at 6:30 p.m., stop Pine ai Pingy Point and Pome Konktnt robin aad 08, New York anc Jamex mver va, and the N. folk and Western and Seaboant and hoanoke railron \peake and L. L. BLAKE, Captain, yEW yO) ROTTERDAM, AMSTERDAM. — Nhe Bomeciame et built Duta Steamships of this Ling, AMSTERDAM. ROTTER: AM SCHIEDAM LETRDAM. ZAANDAM. P.Om- ND. W. A. ROHOLTEN, MAAS, ihe Mails to the N: BStiswe: an arn, a teabin, $70: second cabin, $50 ‘$26. H-CAZAUK, General Agent 27 Sort ita ste New York. For passare apply to W. G. MLTZE! &CO.. 925 Penn. ave., Washington. (ORTH GFRMAN Mee this ay will sail By 1 oe from Bremen pice. foot of “ om qo ot. tes of Pannaste 2 Hiner, Eouthamyton and ‘Bromen, frst ‘cabin, $100, momma cabin, $60; steerage, §30; prepaid stocrage certifio $24. For fraiche of peemace apply. t OELRICHS “O., 2 Bowling Green, New Yi f G. METZEKO gc. 925 Peunsylvabia avenue Lortiwest, Agen! ashineton, AM LIne. 4 TO AND FROM BOSTON AND BALTIMORR, LIVERPOOL, QUEENSTOWN, GLASGOW, LONDONDERRY and GALWaY. Prepaid passage certificates for Friends and Relatives from the Old Country, toany railroad *tation oF steame boat —— > United ‘The ouly live taking passengers direct safety and ants oosdacioe Ahecomfort of passcusers. Cabin, 0 and $80, Steerage, iowent rater (BELLEW,” 711 ith st.: Mre. D. A, tinat. GO. W. MOSS, 286 Soume. on, Mass, 15 State’ st. n-th, okt FAéeurs LINE. WEEKLY LINE OF RTRAMPRS LEAVING AEW YORK EVERY TAURSDAR AT NOON. FOR ENGLAND, FkAsvi AND GERMANY. sKassage apply to BS 87. B. RICHARD & 00., General Passenger Ageute, 61 Broadway, New cork, Crto PERCY G. SMITH, 1551 and 619 Pennsy.vanta avenas. 14 for **Tourist Gazette,” at Cc UNARD LINE 5 Fr Bothnia Wed., March ANS EVERY WEDNESDAY FROM NEW LURK Rare OF Passage: $60, $90 and $100 for paswe1.eer accommoAations. Fteeragr at very low rates. Steerage tickets from Lig. Queeusiown and all other parte uf kuropea® rouxh bills of Iafen civen for Belfast, Gl Favre, Autwerp and other ports ou the Continent aad for Mediterranean ports, For freight and passaze aprly at theCompany"s ton, Xo. 4 Bowling Green, or both eteerace and cabin BIGELOW & GO., 605 Tih wirost, Washingtom, VERNON A. BROWN & CO. , New York; Mews. OTIS BIGELOW & CO., 605 7th street, Washi ____ RATLROADS. LTIMORE & OHIO RAILROAD. THE MODEL FAST, AND INEY COUPLER! STEEL RAL A MBER 12rn, az EAVE WASHINGTON, :05—Chicaro, Cingiunatt and St. Louis 8 Cincinual $690 DALTINOEY PRR Se oSApare: Winchoater Harersioet aud Wat we Bake 17:45—BALTIMORE EXPRESS. i [APHILADLLPHTS, Sew TORE AND BOsTOm . Parlor Care 4 8:40—Staunton and Valiey Ex; inects for Hise nut of" oe Frederick.) and at Poij t906 Hyatterie ‘and Btops at Sewers, Ane opty pe 10:00 BALTIMORE EXVILSS, (stops at yatta 120:15—Pittabi Chi. Cincinnat! and St. Expr Mlocying Gate to Cuucauste Louris ay, via Kelay. Stopsat €:05—Voint of Kocks and Way Stations, 7:00— Baltimore and Way Stations. : 7-30-BALTIMOKE EXPRESS. M0-PITISEUKG, CLEVELAND and DETROTE x ‘Cars to 19:40—PHIL. ae NEW YOKK and’ BOSTON EXPRESS, Sloepitig Cars to Nem York. Me brrtor nat 8 Louinamd Sleeping Cars to Cinch 90- BALTIMORE AND WAY SEATIONS: Gr Ke LORD, Gen. Famenger Agent, Balto, WM. CLEMEN: 5. Master of Traus.. Baito. ‘ze ee ee Te wxsyLVANIA ROUTE TO THE NORTH, WEST AND BOU DOUBLE TRACK. SPLE} ee 6:40am, and 4:40 p.m. defy, m and 4:40 p.m, dally, exespt .. REDERIC! mt D ALEXANDUIA AND WASHENGROM UNDERTAKERS. ROONEY & 0O.,