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VOL. 1. LAMONI, IOWA, DECEyIBER, 1888. No. 12.

A "VAIN" RELIGION.

BY "OBSERVER."

111' an inspired apostle of Jesus Christ could form a correct idea of the mat

ter, James concluded that there were at least two religions in the world,-a "pure" one and a "vain" one. He did not sav that religion was something to or to catch like the measles, or whooping cough, {)r the consumption; but it was a religion of doing.

"Pure religion," he says, "and undefiled before God and the Father is To visit the fatherless and widows in their affiiction, and to keep himself unspotted from the worldn-or, as it should read, "from the vices of the world." To visit and care for the orphans, and widows in their poverty and sorrows, and to keep from the vices and follies of the world, is a religion of doing good and abstaining from evil. But there is another idea or principle connected with this, as explained by Paul, and that is, that while a person may do good to the poor and needy; or "thougb I give my goods to feed the poor," as he expressed it, yet "have not charity," it "profitetb me nothing;" so tbat even the religion of doing good may become a "vain" or profitless one if ebarity is lacking. "vVh y ," says one, "I thought tbat to 'bestow my goods to feed the poor,' and 'to visit the fatherless and widows in tbeir affiiction,' was cbaritv itself." No doubt such mav have beeil your thought, and it is th; thought of thousands; but nevertheless, Paul does not call that cbarity.

Charity is said to be love-the love of . God shed abroad in our hearts bv the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us. There are those who do a great deal toward helping the poor and needy, and who

support tbe ministry by paying tithes and offerings, yet have not charity-at l~ast not in some respects; espenially do they lank that feature of charity that "thinketb no evil." They indeed "believe all things," particularly that which the "Village Gossips" or the "Daily Herald" bring to them every morning and evening. They may not go aronnd themselves to hear and tell some new thing, or carry tales; but they will receive with cordiality and pleasure the news:.gatherer, and listen with great interest to his or her new batcb of tales, and thus ennourage a character who ought to be debarred every house until he or she can learn to bridle his or her tongue. In law it is said that as relates to stolen goods, "the receiver is as bad as the thief," providing he knows tbe goods to have been stolen. The writer has known cases where members of the church could not find time to visit the needy and suffering, but eouId spend an hour or two daily in listening to the report of the news collector. But improper and unwise and sinful as it may be to encourage the tale-bearp.r, (who is a nuisance in any community), yet vastly more criminal is the colleetor and dispenser (and often the inventor) of tales; for often the stories they relate to these too willing ears are positively untrue, or in plain words are lies; and not only those who make a lie, but those who love a lie, or love to hear what is a lie in fact, are to be cast into "the lake of fire aud brimstone." Terrible thought! .Tesus considered that the devil is the father of and of course whosoever circulates a lie, or who encourages those who do circulate them is doing the devil service, and is his


530 A DOMESTIC INOlDE::>lT.

and servant, and of course is not, can not be the servant of God at the

same time; and from him whom he serves he will receive his l·eward.

vVho is the "vain" religionist then? James says: "If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his

bnt deceiveth his own heart, this religion is vain." That is, the per

son is not religious, but seems to be religions, and he deceives by the tongue of slander. God Clll'sed the earth, not swearing at it, but causing it to receive evil, and to produce evil to man which it became a curse to him. Israel was threatened with divers in the form of evils that should come upon them in body and in mind, and in basket and in store; so we curse our brethren and sisters when we speak evil of them and harm their reputation and destroy the confidence of others in them. And to do this is, and can be, the only motive of those who invent and gather and circulate tales of evil. It is a species of mnrder. It may be a question whether or not it is not doing a person a evil to kill his good name Or reputation or influence, than it would be to stab his body to his death. To rob a man of his m~nev is to steal trash, as a certain poet has it; but to rob. him of his character or good name, is to take his alL So then, the tale-bearer or slanderer is a thief and a murderer, beside a liar; and no wonder that God has declared that such "shall have their portion in the lake which bUl'lleth with fire and brimstone." There is no true reli-

in such people. The Spirit of God not in them, nor can be. Their religion

is vain. They are naught but hypocrites" and they are to be cast "into outer dark~ ness," where "there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." From this, it may be seen that tale-bearers, gossips, and mischief-makers are most abominable charac-· tel'S in the sight of God. 'fheh- pretended piety, their alms-giving, their prayers: and testimonies, &c., are all in vain. Theil' "religion is vain," and they are not Saints at all; but are hypocrites, and that only. But as all manner of sin and blasphemy, but that against the Holy Ghost may be forgiven to those who repent, so' the tale-bearer may be saved by genuine and thorough repentance, but not without. If pure and true religion is to "visit·:" that. is care for the fatherless and widows in their affliction," and to keep unspotted from the vices of the world, then those who do not do this, are also exhibiting a· "vain" religion. The gambler, the drinker, the tobacco user, the card playet·, the saloon keeper, the hall-room frequenter~ the slang and by-word user, or those whO' follow any other of the vices of the world, have a vain religion, or at least do not possess a pure and undefiled religion. The friendship of the world is enmity with God: whosoever therefore is the friend of the worlel is the enemy of God." "Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable and perfect will of God." And "thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself;" "Love worketh no ill t(} his neighbor; therefore love (or charity) is the fulfilling of the law."

A DO:YIESTIC INCIDENT.

A Boston physician was called out of a sound slumber the other night to answer the telephone. "Hello! what is it?" he asked, little pleased at the idea of leaving his comfortable bed.

"Baby is doctor. What shall I do?" came across the wire.

"Oh!" perhaps it's a pin," the doc-tor, recognizing the voiee of a young mother, one of his patients.

"No," was the reply, "I'm sure it can't be that." "Perhaps he has the colic," l'etUl'ned the doc

tor, with well simulated solicitude.

"No, I don't think so," replied the anxious mother; "he doesn't act that way."

"TheIl perhaps he's hungry, said the doctor, as a last resort.

"Oh! I'll see," came across the wiI'e, then all was still. The doctor went back to bed and was soon asleep About half an hour af-terward he was awakened by the

of the telephone bell. Jumping out of bed and placing the receiver to his ear he was cheered by the following message:

"You are right, doctor. was hungry."


MONTEZUMA.

mIlE Frontispiece this month is a reproJ 1 ' duction of a historical painting by Geo. M. Ottinger. It represents Montezuma and his retinue, in front of a temple in the city of Mexico, where they have just been sacrificing to the goddess of flowers, meeting the embassadors who had been sent to visit Cortez, to learn his intentions and to trv to induce him to leave the coast. Mo'ntezuma is seated on a palanquin borne upon the shoulders of nobles, and is holding his scepter 011 his knees with both hands.

The holding a shield emblazoned with an is intended for Gautamoizin, son-in-law, nephew and successor of Montezuma. He acted a conspicuous part in the oonte8t with the Spaniards. He was light-complexioned; the picture gives too dark a hue to the whole groupe.

One of the near the trees on the right of the king, is Ixtlilxochitl. He was the heir of the throne of Tesouoo; but by the interference of Montezuma a younger brother obtained it; and for this cause IxtElxochitl took sides with the invaders.

'1'his makes occasion to say that Tescuco was an ancient city on the borders of the Mexican lake, renowned as a seat of learning, of jurisprudence, art and ov,<cuv<c,

not unlike the cities of Europe in eval times. Ixtlilxochitl came by inheritance into possession of the archives of his nation, incluing chronicles of the past and gelleralliterature. He was an adept in native lore and all that pCl'tained to the Mexican language, and in addition to this he mastered the Spanish language, and became acquainted with its literature; also he adopted the Ohristianfaith. 'With these rare qualifications he wrote his "Historia Chichemeca" ancl other chronicles 011 Mexican history, ill which he confirms the strange Biblical tmditions and legends of the people; !111 of whioh none of his learned associates and cotemporaries, pagan or ever questioned or contemned.

It was in 1518 that the Mexican coast was visited by Grijalva, the first explorer of it. In April, 1519, Cortez anchored his little fleet at Acupulco. He was immediately visited by two canoe loads of natives, among whom were the

two embassadors of the one of them a military officer other a governor of a p~ovince. presented to Cortez ornaments of silver and gold, and accepted in return an image of the Virgin, some crosses, and a helmet, the latter being admired by them because of its resemblance to the helmet of Quetzalcoatl, the "]'air God." Accurate drawings or'the ships and all they contained were taken for the inspection of the emperor.

After the represented in the picture, the were sent back to renew their appeal to Cortez and t,o give richer in order to turn him from his purpose; but their efforts only inflamed his desires to possess what tbey were so fea,rfulof Cortez landed, fortfied his camp, burnt his fleet, gained allies, marched to the interior, and disregarding the of Montezuma, took up quarters in the grand plaza, or central square of the city. He made himself familial' with the defenses of the eapital. To prevent an outbreak of the impatient swarming natives, he siezed JYIontezuma as a hostage, made him acknowledge himself a vassal of the king of Spain, and exacted an enormous tribute. He had next to go and repulse from the coast some of his fellow-countrymen who came to arrest his progress, and while he was gone the natives rose in arms and began the strife that ended so suddenly and disastrously in the subjugation of the city and the overthrow of the empire.

The story of the conquest as told cott is the world's prose Hliad, and inferior in interest to anv other production of whatever n~ture; yet the interest of the does not consist in the power and splendor of the in gorgeous palaces, towering temples, in the bloody eollapse of the empire, nor in the suffering of the generous and trusting emperor of millions of armed men. Prescott, following the lead of the chroniclers whose imaginations Cortez stimulated with promises and has painted his scenes with the and flare of blood and fire and the glister of gold. "Here the artist has no nocturne in blue and silver and grey, but a sym-


532 MONTEZUMA..

phony in and scarlet and purple, the burning sapphire for a key and the tremulous tints of the rainbow for a color scale." He has made most effective . use of the unique nnd thrilliug situations, and has ,"",','-""PO his facts as skillfullv as Cortez

men, and planned the story campaign, with systematic

approaches, relays and reserves, ambuscades, skirmishes and surprises, flank movements, the storming of ramparts, feints, the exploding of mines, hand to hand encounters, the concentration and and of forces; then the clatter and clash, smoke and dust of final conflict, and of victory, first notes of fame immortal. But a higher charm lies in a undefined back-ground of the picture. Back of Montezuma's empire was a civilization of which that was but a

traditions and fragments of history tell a Toltec Empire that vied with OIel-world empires of even date in many elements of grandeur, and which went down down hv invasion internicine conflict, pestilenee, demoralization and dread of avenging deities. Ruined pyramids, towers, arches, palaces and pillars, sculptured, grandly vast, very numerous and widely prevalent, confirm thl? literary mementos. To this effect, as a instance, is the following, by S. B. of Ottumwa:

"The calamity that overtook Teotihuican was so destl'll~tive that all that was of a perishable nature was rlA~b'{\1J"Ad remained except, the walls these were almost masses of wreck and sites resembled, at first locks or mounds of earth 0. stone, cover. ed in many instances with rank veQ'eta1:1011. OccasioniUv well defined walls above mass, and f;om these the build-ings can be traced. Fire and earthquake each performed their part in reducing this once populous and prosperous city which according to Torquemada, contained twenty thousand houses, to the desolation that it now presented. The Aztecs who were themselves intruders on the soil six hundred years ago, gazed upon the same scene with the bewilderment of barbarians, and with as little knowledge of the works as had the swaggering soldiers of Cortez."

But neither this writer nor Prescott has penetrated the mystery of the continent.

Woven with the legends and records is much Biblical history, with unmistakeable references to Eden, Babel and Jerusalem; and with the ancient paintings are numerous Bible scenes. But that which only is pertinent to this present writing is a brief notice of Quetzalcoatl, the "Fair God;" i. e. god of fail' countenance. He was both God and man; was born of a virgin; was crueified; rose from the dead; was king of Tunan, he whose father gave him a cup to drink and which caused him to weep; who left his temporal kingdom for an immortal one, departing 011 the day of four earthquakes, and prom-

to return and redeem his people and be avenged of his enemies, etc.

Because of such traditional faith all the Mexican people were expecting-as the Pueblos and other unconverted tribes are still absent Lord. This accounts for sensation that the arrival of the Spaniards caused throughout the Mexican provinces. And, Torquemada records, whl:ll1 Cortez arrived off the coast he was .11ot only taken to be the Messiah, but actually received adoration in that character, s·eated on a throne erected for that purpose on the deck of his ship; and he attributes to this expecta-tion of their Messiah the current ru-mor that he had come to take posesssion of his killgdom and the commotion into which the kingdom was thrown thereby, the rapid progress of the Spanish arms. A national council decided that Cortez could be none other than their 1 .. 01'0. returned now to resume his ancient sway. The authorities of Tlascalan also in coun-cil, cited ancient in that a conquering race come from the east in ships, &c .

Cortez and Gomara hoth relate that during the last days of the some of the chiefs called Cortez to them and asked him why, as he was the son of the sun he did not finish the work with the course of the sun. Then they to the sun to relieve them at once their suf-ferings, that they might rest with Quetzalcoatl, who was expecting them.

In these peculiar conditions found a principal cause of a which in many respects has no in history; and. taking into known purposes of God, it may be seen that the events were little short of miraculous. The Spaniards, btitse as they


row A. TO' AUSTRALIA. 533

were, professed to recognise the providence 01 God, in their successes, and mingled with their horrid cruelties earnest endeavors to convert the natives to their own faith.

The conversion of the Indians was but

bringing them back to a form of the faith they had lost, and was a necessary preparation for the next the pro-gram, which is their full restoration to the ancient faith and to their national rights as part of Israel.

F.R.S.

IOWA TO AUSTRALIA.

BY J. W. WIGHT.

QN the morning of lYIay lOth, 1888, \J after a delay of two days occasioned by heavy rains, I started from my uncles. As I realized that I was leaving the home where the maturer part of childhood had beeu spent, and where fond memory clings with zealous ardor to the scenes incident to the gleeful years of youth, there came over me a feeling attun-ed to and akin to despair. Know-ing here had been founded the basis of a future and realizing that I was not only the place, hut my rela-tives and and that too, for years, and for forever, there came almost ere was aware of it, a disposition to murmur at mv lot and that which I was called upon' to endure. Then I thought of the endurance of such pioneers as Ern. Rodger, 'Vandell and others that had preceded me to this far off island; and of the explorations of such men as Livingstone, Baker, Stanley, and others in African wilds; and as I thought how Mrs. Baker had willing to pass through the incident to such a life-I almost felt to blush that a feeling to shrink the imposed, had ever found lodgment in mind. Then came the consoling that though I was leaving all that was near and dear, and going ten thousand miles or more, yet God was over me, and as long as I should strive do his will and keep his commandments, he would care for me.

After some nine miJes stage I reached the railroad station, and about fifteen minutes was whirling away to Dow City to meet my co-laborer. At Bell I find brethren C. E. Butterworth and David

Rudd, who have come to take the parting hand, and after a few minutes converse take hack for Dow City; and never in life do I remember having seen more mud in so sort a distance. On arrival I learned that "Neely" had gone to Woodbine to fill an appointment that had been intended for self, and after dinner at his brother Clair's we bid adieu to the few Saints we h:!tve time to call on, and once more are seated behind the iron horse rapidly lessening the distance to 'Voodbine. Here we find Neely awaiting, and the families of brethren Cadwell and Kibler with others of the Saints, to take the parting hand for at least three years.

After some fifteen minutes awaiting the passing of the "fiyer," which is spent in general conversation, we take the parting hand, and a last farewell I am soon carried from sight. Often does my mind go back to such scenes as these, enacted so many times during my minister-ial labor of the last past, and I think will I ever see all the dear friends in whose I have mingled during that year? ]'ond hope bids me answer the question affirmatively. And while the throbbing heart and streaming eye have too often told of the sadness of the parting hour, yet as mind goes back I am glad to know the gospel makes such ties as these.

Even since on my journey there has come to me the epistolary tale of how the moistened eye had given evidence of the sorrow felt on learning of mv far away trip; and as I perused I almost felt a desire that it had been ruled otherwise. But since coming to these fields I have


534- IOWA TO AUSTRALIA.

found the same warm-heartedness, and already realized that when the time of return shall come, there are to be many noble ones of eartb from whom it will be sad indeed to take what will be a "farewell forever" so far as this life is concerned. But this reverie has carried me thousands of miles from Western Iowa, so I return to the realities of the railroad car, where I am hastening for Omaha.

Here we learn that if we stay to get a half-fare permit, we can not leave bef"re noon of tbe next day, and therefore can not fill tIle appointment for the coming Sabbath in Salt Lake City. So we secme our tickets for San Francisco, and at nine p. m. start, for the first time in my life on a journey for the "great west." Weare soon made aware that this road is well patronized, as we search from car to car for a berth, and at last are successful. It takes but a short time to learn that had we not been so ignorant of the convenience of cars, it might have been better for us. As we were unsupplied with and, having each packed our

trunks, it needs only a to discover that a

has no and that the slats, as usual, have the other side up!

'Vith the car very warm, the perspiration almost streaming, the constant jolting and shaking of the train, I court slumber in vain. Tired of the effort I crawl

companion and sit down to the pleasantness

leave the reader to draw bis own conclusion. About midnight two young ladies, who seem to have little relish for

me two pillows; whether from or the kindness of their natures I am

to determine. With these to entice I am soon in oblivion's shade, and remain in this condition till about four a. m., when I awake to the realization that it has grown cold in our sleeping apartments. Getting down I pace backward and forward to start a more hasty circulation, and am once more led to reflect upon the ease (?) of this mode of travel-

that a fire is necessarv to the venous fluid and thus insure

O",",PH",.,I· warmth to the system, I soon have one going; while on either side of the long aisle is enacted a scene incident to the morning hour of a sleeping apartment. The 'wash-stand is the place of seeming

attraction for the next hour or so, after which the morning repast is indulged with the seeming appetite of those who depend 011 the exercise of muscle for the support of life; at least mine was as keen as I remem-ber of when the station had been "kept up" the harvest field, or per-chanee I had stood for a half day in the hot sun and used the fork propelled by derrick force, that carried from two to four hundred weight of hay; and from appearances I feel that the others have a similar relish.

Nebraska, is the first town seen when daylight appears, and the country surrounding seems very leveL Soon pioneer life is brought vividly before us, as the remains of the flistoric sod shanty ishere left to mark the place where once a hardy son of toil had endeavored to prepare the bread that perisbeth. Now is seen the light-colored soil that to mind our alkali in Southern Dakota during last autumn. I do not offer this in disparagement of that territory, for no better country have I ever seen than the east portion, and the hospitality of her citizens is unsurpassed; and as my mind goes back to the events encountered there, and the many dear friends, it is an effort to keep the lachrymal fluid from flowing; but I digress.

The green grass seen growing bere is not so far along as in Iowa, but perchance there has not been as copious a supply of rain-fall. As we get farther west up the Platte the valley widens and alkali becomes more proininent. In fact we are on the famous plains; and as we go speed-

over them the mind goes out in wonderment how the hardy pioneers could ever have had the heart to travel farther. South of the river as our journey progresses, the hills seem high and very rugged,

A siesta being now in order, my descriptive faculties for the time are enshrouded, and we are left only to conjecture as to the scenes passed through during this part of our journey. Awakening, I discover that the valley is narrower, and ere we travel far a small house and stable are sighted, and yet a top buggy is iudulged (1). Soon we arrive where the hills seem made of sand, and as I look out upon them, I can not help feeling that it were no pleasure to meet a strong wind here. Next item noted is a single dwell-


· lOW A. TO AUSTRA.LIA.. 535

ing and what appears a school-house. ,In yain do my .eyes search the surrounding country for other dwellings, and I picture the scene of a here for one family of children, the pa.ter fmnilias were a veritable Solomon so far as the marital relation be considered. The next station is Brady Island, and is composed of one frame and one sod shanty. After this we pass through a swampy tract of country and stop at North Platte for breakfast. The life and size of the place indicate a farming or stock-raising country SUlrro·un.Cl11ng.

On the move my note book is brol1O"ht out to record the fact of a daim '" . being held down by a tent. From thIS ·on the valley widens and the hills seem ,composed o(stone. ,Ve here pass through the fil'st colony yet seen; and as the little yellowish-brown creaturesabout half the size of a cat-go scampering about or sit on their hind feet seemingly ullcorl(lerned. I am made to realize what false impressions of things one -often gets. From hearing of them I had formed the opinion that they were about twice the size of a rat terrier! I counted twelve of these colonies en rontej in fact the chief feature of the countrv for miles is sand and dog towns. The r:ext of 1Jo1:e is a ranch. Reaching Sidney. our train is made larger, and from here to iJheyenne we have a double length train. 'Through south-west ::-;r ebraska the houses are all ~mac1e of sod, and sheep and cattle raising seem the chief industry. Into 'south-east vVyoming, and we see large -cattle ranches, seemingly composed of 'manv thousands of acres.

'B~fore reaching Cheyenne some SIlOW

is seen, and the cry of "mountains," causes a promiscuous rushing to the windows and platforms, to see in the distance naught but the foothills. the bustling city just as the sun is we soon discover snow, and the mountain tops are seen through the At ·one of the stations Neely some snow which can now be seen quite frequently, and is a beautiful sight as it sparkles in the lamp and twilight. Darkness soon shuts out the surrounding objects, and after an hour's soeiality I once more betake me to the never-to-be-forgotten slats of an upper birth, and with grip and coat for a pillow-while my rubber ,coat is used for a am soon in

suhjection to morpheus, and under his influence remain till midnight, despite the rattle and roar. The latter part of the night is in social chat with those, who, like can find few charms in the lIard side of narrow boards.

By inquiry in the morning, we learn that we have passed the highest altitude during the night. One peculiarity of this morning is the e~rliness of the dawn; ac-

, counted for only by the greatness of our altitude. 'Ve are among the sage brush this morning, its principal inhabit.ants ""t'llllLH" to be jack rabbits, which can be seen occasionally. The few cattle scen here seem to depend on the sage brush, the being almost as hard to discover as in the bill of a duck. At about nine o'clock a kind of bunch grass is seen, and at one of the stations I plucked some

, as a curiosity, which proved to be ahout ten inches long. As we cross this belt know as the "plains," houses save those of the section most of whom are Chinese,-we feel there are thousands of earth's inhabitants who know naught of desolation and loneliness.

Pilot Rock and The Buttes are items of interest; and while my mind is occupied with these the cry of mountains is hcard, and looking south we see the Green River Mountains at an apparent distance of four or five miles, but which are said to be some fifty; and what a beautiful sight they present. Rising

above the surrounding country and covcred with snow, which gleams and sparkles in the sun, the sight were a feast for the gods. About onep. m. we arrive at Green River, where we stop for dinner, and from here the monotony is broken. The next of interest are the snow-sheds, great tunnel-like frame works designed to keep off the snow; and as we pass through them we find they are quite dark. The mountains are on either side now, and often seem in such proximity when first noticed, as will necessitate passing their very base, but are found to be some miles back.

As at a rapid rate we speed along, my mind goes back to years agone, and in fancy I see the weary ones plodding onward; dragging behind them in the historic hand-cart, all their earthly possessions, and ever and anon breaking forth in melodious chant, evincing the ardor of


536 lOW A TO AUSTRALIA.

their zeal and a false hope begotten in too confiding bosoms. Or perchance we wander hither and thither at the hour of bivouac, beholding here a group of merry light-hearted children all unconscious of the stern realities of life; and, like even the parents, little thinking what awful revealments are to come forth when once the mountain fastnesses have made it safe to declare aloud and publish abroad those secrets that so long lay locked in the bosoms of the ones known as the "faithful." . There a group of men are discussing the events of the day, or it may be, speculating as to the probable length of distance and time yet to intervene before the journey is complete and the "towers of Zion" shall glitter. Farther on, and we find the already overtasked mothers preparing the scanty evening's repast, while in some instances-as is too oftentimes the case-she has the extra burden of caring for the fretful infant. Desirous of learning all we can of these "campers on the mountains" we continue in imagination our journey, till we come to the most comfortable quarters yet seen, and here behold one seated at a luxurious meal of all that heart can wish; and it needs not the eye of a critic to detect in him the "leader" of this faithful little band. More than curious, we now determine to fathom all that can be learned, and discovering that our absence is preferable to our company, we leave this august being to the enjoyment of his physical comfort, and wander on tilllo! a sad picture is presented. Lying on as comfortably constructed bed as it is possible under the circumstances, is a wife and mother, on whom it is evident the messenger death has already laid his icy hand. And bending low, the grief-stricken husband and father watches the flitting that marks the near approach of the grim monster, and listens, with bated breath and poignancy of heart, to the oft repeated request for a cup of coffee that he knows too wcll has already been refused by him who has the power to give ~nd the which might, had it been administered in time, have stayed the tortures of hunger and stimulated to a vitality that would have given back the health and strength so essential to the journey being now endured. And yet this same man-the husband in after years, having again heard and obeyed the gospel of Christ-(under the leadership of the "legal successor,")-

is willing to carry it back to the same people who in the far agone had permitted such treatment as this; thereby manifesting the spirit evinced by the Master when he commanded: "Pray for those that despitefully use you." But why torture memory with such as this? Better to pray as Stephen did when being stoned to death, and leave them to the mercy of a just God.

At the town of Evanston we stop for supper, and while waiting at the station are informed by a fellow passenger that the inhabitants are mostly Brighamites. Just after leaving, a flock of sheep bring us to a standstill by crossing the track; and here we see fulfilled the adage: "One go, all go, sheep." We are now in Echo Canyon, and standing on the lower step of the platform while the train goes thundering along at the rate of forty-five to fifty miles, we are permitted to behold the wonders of the beautiful and imposing canyons; and the scenery as it constantly bursts forth to view becomes at once grand, awful, and sublime!

The most interesting sights are Witch~ and Pulpit Rocks, and Devil's Slide and Devil's Gate. The first of these are seven rocks looking to us very much like S(h

many petrified Indians, and sometimes called the "seven sisters;" the next is a large, overhanging rock, on which it is said Brigham Young stood to preach a sermon. The Slide is a narrow passage' way on the side of a pecipitous mountain. formed completely of solid stone, and looking as though nature in her wonder workings had far surpassed the chisel of the artificer. Passing through The Gate. with solid stone walls on either side, arid the Weber river rushing through just by the north siuc of the road,-to be seen dancing, sparkling and gleaming in the sunshine as it emerges from its narrow confines,-there is created in the mind a feeling of awful sublimity; and at once there dashes through the intricate meshes of the brain the thought that here were a scene that no artists brush could paint nor sculptors chisel trace.

From here to Ogden we are enraptured with the wonderfully beautiful scenery. The snow-capped mountains to the north of us, rising majestically high, furnish a· contrast to the beautiful valley lying at. their feet, dotted here and there with the tasty cottage of the farmer, in a seeming'


lOW A TO AUSTRALIA. 53'T

sense of protected security. To the south, and more esp~cially as we near Ogden, the face of the country seems a level bench, while the beautiful farms are a pleasing contrast to the arid plains passed over the day before.

Arriving at OgJell we bid adieu to our companions, and start for Salt Lake City, via, Utah Central railroad. And now we are permitted to behold the lake in all its beauty. As the bright rays of the low-descending sun send their scintillating gleams over its expansive bosom, causing it to sparkle and glitter with a vast retinue of attendant and changing colors, it is indeed a grand sight; while to the east of us rise the lofty mountains, their hoary heads at times seeming to pierce the blue dome, and causing a thrill of wonderment to pass through one, as we speed swiftly on toward the city and its environments.

Arriving at the depot we are met by brethren Wilson and Barrows, and conducted to the pleasant home of the former. N ext day being S.unday, we go to the Chapel and Neely occupies in the afternoon, and I at the evening service. On Monday, Bro. Charles Barrows kindly conducts us over the city; and as we viewed the interior of the tabernacle, beholding its wonderful architecture, or stood on the topmost portion of the incompleted temple, beholding the beautiful city with its wide and pleasant streets, I could not help feeling a sorrow in my heart that a people with such energy, industry and skill, had ever been made to feel the blighting curse of priestcraft, with all its concomitant evils; and we wondered how it could be possible that a people once so spiritually enlightened, ever should go so far from that path marked out by the church in its early days, as to partake of the sins committed in these mountain fastnesses, believing that God had authorized the same. My mind went back to the times that I had been accused of being connected with this people, and how at many places I had been branded as a falsifier when declaring that we never had any affinity with them; and as these things pass before the vision of my memory, there comes a loathing for these evil practices that words can not portray or language picture.

N ext day we climb the mountains to th~ north, and are afforded a pleasant view of the city and lake. At four p. m.

we take the parting hand and are once' more speeding on our way, and at eight, p. m. leave OgJen for the farther west .. Passing the night in a refreshing sleep I awaken to find that we are on the Great American Desert. And, Oh! how awful it seemed, as all day, till late in the afternoon, we traversed this weary waste! The most interesting features of the day were the Humboldt river and canyon, and the p3;lisades. These latter were perpin-dicular rocks rising high above us on either side of a narrow canyon. During the night we pass into California, and r awaken just at day to find that we are at a station where the houses seem to be standing way up on the side of the mountain. From here to Sacramento we pass through the gold fields, and are pointed: out the place where, it is said, the "find'" of 1848 was' made. The mountains covered with evergreens and the vineyards; and farms seen occasionally, form a strik- _ ing contrast to the desert, and we feel more at home. During this part of the journey Cape Horn is passed, and as we look hundreds of feet down to where the· river, looking like silver, and winding like a snake, courses its way, it almost made the blood run chill at the thought of tumbling off. This is the most dangerous; looking part of the journey.

We leave Sacramento about half-past. seven a. m., and some fifteen miles out come to an Eden. The large vineyards and peach and apple orchards fairly enrapture one's being. No wonder that California's fame has encircled the globe if this can be taken as a sample of her beauty and grandeur.

Reaching Benicia the train IS run on to' a large ferry-after having been cut into sections-and carried over the arm of the bay. From here we travel along the bay, passing through two tunnels on the way· to Oakland. The snow sheds of Nevada,. some forty miles in length, we forgot to mention in their proper place. At Oakland pier we transfer to the boat, and crossing the bay, some four miles in width, we arrive at San Francisco, and for the time being are at the end of our journey. Going to the pleasant home of Sr. Andrews we are made welcome, and during our stay here and at Oakland, enjoy the hospitality of the Saints. At "Frisco" the noise and bustle are detrimental to our nerves, while a very peculiar distur-


row A TO AUSTRALIA.

bance at Oakland is shocking to our moral sense; its merits and demerits we leave for those better qualified as arbiters to determine.

In the afternoon of Sunday, June 3d, the Almnpda started from her moorings, and as she rounded and headed for the ()cean we stood watching the ones gathered at the wharf; and as the waving kerchief betokened a departing friend, our ,spirits drooped for the instant as we realized we were leaving our native shores.

Out through the "golden gate" I am for the first time in life on the mighty deep, and as the good ship, with undaunted mien begins the task of riding the undulating waters, we uotice that Neely is growing very white. N ear night we go below, and as the strong vegetable odor comes forth, and the ship seems dropping from under us'to immediately rise again before ,ve down to it, I feel like getting above. Reaching deck I am sool! all right, and begin to congratulate myself that I am quite a sailor. N ear bedtime a gentleman starts to go below and falling, arouses my sympathy so that I go ,to his assistance. The lurching of the ship causes him to stagger so that my sea legs 800n begin to weaken, and just as I reach the door, a sudden desire seizes me . to give a dinner to the fish. Soon I take 'my place among the list of martyrs for Neptune demands his tribute, and not until Tuesday for supper do I resume my 1)lace at the table. There is nothing to break the monotony save a few rain showers and flying fish, till the morning of the 10th, when land is seen.

Arriving at Honolulu at seven a. m. we remain till five p. m., and as the day is spent on shore, we are soon made aware of the extreme heat of a vertical sun. Desiring to purchase some stamps I am per-mitted to study the Natives while at the 'office, and can hut note the difference-in their favor-between them and the Americans on such occasions. Their patience is commendable, and when met on the 'street a polite touch of the hat denotes a breeding that at horne we would do well to imitate.

We go to look at the king's palace, but as it is enclosed by a high stone wall we see only the top. The Assembly Hall is also visited, and from what we can learn they pattern largely after the United States in their government. Our money

passes here the same as at home. The city is laid out irregularly, the, streets are narrow and crooked. Such trees as the mango, plltntain, alligator-pear, banana and cocoanut, with various others seem growing spontaneously, and are a much needed protection from the tropical heat. Beautiful birds and flowers of every hue are seen, and we feel that with the society congenial, here were a veritable Eden.

Leaving at five p. m., we are out of sight of land once more when morning dawns, and now begin to feel as though a sea life were not so unpleasant after all. But alas! before the next day closes in we understand David thoroughly as he expresses himself "Their soul abhorl'eth all manner of meat; and they draw nigh unto the gates of death,"

'l'utuila is our next stopping place, and here we exchange passengers and give out mail. The natives that come aboard are good physical specimens, but look odd with their reddish hair all standing straight up. It is made this way by the use of lime water. A Utah elder got off here to labor among them.

vVe cross Capricorn at noon of the 19th, and sight a whale the same afternoon. Sunday Island is sighted the 20th, so· named hecause Captain Cook discovered it on that day. Crossing the one hundred and eightieth meridian the next day, we are told it iR Friday the 22d, and therefOl-e ThUl'sday is lost to us entirely. The next morning land is sighted, and at eight a. m. we land at Auckland, New Zealand. Here we visit the public park and many other places of interest. 'rhe showers that fell several times during the clay seemed to come without warning. Leaving at twelve p. m. we are still in sight of land at morning, and so continue all day. The coast from Auckland to the extreme north being two hundred and thirty-seven miles. N ext day we encounter the roughest sea of the journey, the spray dashing over the cleck. On to Sydney the journey is very pleasant. . Our voyage over is said to be one of the most pleasant ever experienced in crossing the Pacific.

At 3: 45 a. Ill. of Thursday, ,June 28th, we cast anchor in the bay of Sydney, as they will IlOt allow us to go to the wharf on account of having a Chinese crew for firemen. Finally a little ferry came along side and landed us about eleven o'clock. N ext day we started for this place,-


GOOD MANNERS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 539

Forster-meeting 'with Bro. and Sr. Smith .on the way, ,and with Bro. Burton and family on arrival. The latter left the 5th Inst., and as I saw the boat push off and realized that I was being left behind, there came a feeling of anguish that enwrapt my soul in grief!

Of our horseback experiences, and the bitter opposition already met, I will ac-

quaint the HP/!'alrl readen; in future. Three have been baptized, and three are to be bap' tized next Sabbath. Weare in the midst of winter and yet have seen frost but once. Perhaps it will be interesting to learn that the oysters sometimes grow on ,trees here; and some of the trees cast off their bark instead of their leaves. The orange and lemon trees are DOW full of fruit.

]'OllSTER, N. S. 'V., July 29th, 1888.

GOOD MANNERS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.

(l,OOD manners are DOt so easy to get, ~ after all. Perhaps you never thought that manners were something to be got, but that they just came of themselves, or grew up inside of you, and somehow got {)utside, and that you need not show you had them unless you wore your best ,clothes and felt just like it. That is all a mistake. They have to be got, and then they have to be worn all the time.

First of all, you want to have manners that will last. You do not want to borrow them by imitation; for then people will know they are not yours, and imitations wear out. lYIuch rubbing shows the real -composition of anything, just as the con:stant polishing of plated silver shows at Jast the base metal beneath. So, if a boy is at first very polite, but, when somebody bothers him, or asks him to do errands, ,or rubs him the wrong way, he then begins to get cross and rough, he proves that his polit,eness was of very thin pla-ting. ,

Good manners must be founded on simple, sincere purposes; else their polish soon vanishes. It is not looks that make good manners, and it is not money that makes style.

If you want to make other people and yourself happy, you must not be selfish; and you know what selfishness means when you are teasing some one. You must be really in earnest, and not be kind because it is fashionable, . or because you ,can get your own way better; but because it will help some one else, though it may not help you; and then you will not have your conscience tormenting you, which is

a hindrance to happiness. But as we can not get rid of it, we have to keep it silent, by obeying it right off, else it even spoils our dreams.

Yet if you have simple, sincere pm'poses, you may not have good manners. Do you not often say of some boy: "Oh, he is good enough; but he is so awkward. He has not any manners?" Or of a girl, "What is the use in her being so good, when she has not any tact?" So you

. admit that goodness is the first thing. But vour toes do not feel much better if

• are stepped on by accident rather than On purpose, though it makes a difference as to whether you will knock. down the offender or tell him to take care. When a kind-hearted sister hunts for your ball, you wish she wonld not ten all the ot,her fellows that you are "the plague of her life:" and when the sister asks her brother'if he likes her new dress, he need not reply; "Well enough. If girls didn't have new clothes, they wouldn't amount to much."

Very good boys and girls pick t11eir teeth at table, east fast and e~t with their knife, slam doors, rush through a room, talk loud, sit with their knees wide apart, swing their arms, shake their shoulders, bow as if they were as stiff as ramrods or as loosely jointed as a jumping-jack, so that they bow all over themselves, never offer older people a seat, make up faces, say careless things, and· use bad grammar and slang. Besides being good, you must have enough taste to

. see that an these things are ungraceful, unneat and rough. You may not


540 UNDER THE LAMP-LIGHT.

think so at first. But I have known many a boy very much out of sorts just because be has seen some one who never does these things, and yet is as good as he is, and whom everybody likes; and I bave seen many, a girl stand before the glass, and wonder why people look askance at

her and never ask her to parties. So man-ners are something to be studied, but are not all to be of the same pattern, else they will be borrowed. Affected_ girls, and swaggering and "dude" boys, always borrow, and are always laughed at.

-The Independent..

"Each day, ea,ch week, each month, each year a new chance is given you by God. A cha~ce, a new leaf, a new life, this is the golden, unspeakable whlCh each new day offers to you."

CAUTION IN MAKING FRIENDSHIPS.

The higher a man's conception is of the value and the sacredness of friendship, the greater will be his caution in entering into a friendship. And, conversely, the readier a man is to enter into friendships, the lower is his conception of the value and the sacredness of friendship. Caution in making friendships is, indeed, an essential quality of a man who is capable of being a true and an unswerving friend.

He who sees little difference between "friendliness" and "friendship," and who counts ail his friends aU his more intimate acquaintances with whom he is on amicable terms, is not likely to be over-cautious in adding one or more to the list of his friends. Rejoicing already in his

HDear five hundred friends/'

he is readiest to welcome a new comparl.ion with the greeting: "A sudden thought strikes me; let us swear an eternal friendship." But he who realizes that a true friendship is one of the rarest and most precious of earth's treasures, and that

HA friend is worth all hazards we can run,"

will naturally hesitate before he decides that such a treasure is actually within his reac]l, and that the time has come for him to run the risks and to pay the price of its Becanse a friendship holds so high a place in his esteeming, he considers well the responsibility of making a new friendship, with all the possibilities of its involving.

It is true that the highest conception of friendship is in being a friend, rathe~ than in having a friend; therefore, in a sense, it is ourselves, l'athel'than our friends, who are on trial for,

and in, such a friendship. Hence, in this light, it is unworthy of a noble mind to say:

HN (J friend's a friend till he shall prove a friend;"

or to act on the selfish suggestion; "Friends are like melons, Shall I tell you why?

To find oue good, you must" hundred try."

But before we can ~ay that it is worthy of omselves to be unreservedly and self-forgetfully the friend of another, we have need to be sure that that other is worthy of this devotion on om part. Friendliness may rightly be shown with but little caution; but when it comes t(} being a "friend," in its best and highest sense,_ to one toward whom we have before been friendly,-then it is that caution is a duty. In order to be a true friend, a true man must see in the one to whom he is a friend that to which he can look up as worthy of his admiration and respect. There is, indeed, an element of reverence in all true friendship. Whatever lack there be in other particulars, there must be some qtlality, or some phase of personality, in the loved one, which commands this reverence on the part of him who gives his friendship, or who gives himself as a friend. And in order to be sure that that which seems worthy of rever": ence is a reality, mUler than a show on the part of the other, or a mncy in our own mind, we have need to deliberate while deliberation is yet propel'; for w hen the decision is once made intelligently, it ought to be counted as made without the possibility of revocation.

As in the case of entering the married state, or of choosing one's life'profession, the very fact that it is reckoned as once for all intensifies the importance of the preliminary deliberation. And he who will be truest when he has decid-


UNDER THE LAMP-LIGHT. 541

'ed on the line of his action will, beforehand, weigh most carefully the reasons for and against that line of action. Seneca, the wise, emphasized this truth when he said: "After friendship it is confidence; before friendship it is judgment." And this aphorism of friendship has ·been paraphrased by many a writer since the days of Seneca; as it deserves to be held in the memory by everyone who is or who would be a friend. Quarles amplified it to read: "Delib'erate long before thou consecrate a friend; and when thy impartial judgment coneludes him worthy of thy bosom, receive him joyfully and

'entertain him wisely; impart thy secrets boldly, and mingle thy thoughts with his; he is thy very self, and use him so. If thou firmly think'est him faith.ihl, thou makest him so." Young ·gives it another form:

"Deliberate in all things wjth thy friend. But since friends grow not thick on eV'ry bough, Nor ev'ry friend unl'otten at the core; First, 011 thy friend. delib'mte with thyself; Pause, ponder, sifti not eager in the chOice, Nor jealous of the chosen i fixing, fix. .r udge hefore friendship, then con.fide tll! death."

And Shakespeare l'e-echoes its teaching in the ,counsel of Polan ius to his son Laertes:

"T"hose friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do dull thy palm with entertainment Of each n;;w-huteh'd, unfledged comrade."

It is possible for a friendship to be formed in youth, and to continue with growing power through all the years of maturer life. On the other hand, one who is of the best and truest friendship may have been. misled, by a 'childhood companionship, into the belief that an attractive but ignoble comrade is worthy to ,command from him that loving reverence which is essential to the permanency of a noble friendship. In the growth of the truer man, in a case like this, the untrue one may have to be left behind beeause the true one is true, and therefore can not look up to the one who is essentiallyuntrue. Itisnotthata real friendship has here failed: but it is that a seeming friendship has here proved to be not a real friendship. The period 'of the seeming friendship has been the season ~f cautious deliberating over the question of deciding on a real friendship. Cowper brings out .this thought with an explicitness that all can understand:

"Beside-s j school friendships are not always found, Though fa.ir in promise) permanent and sOlmd; rrhe most disinterest-ed and virt~ous minds, In BRrly years connected, time unbinds; New situations give a different cast Of habit, inclinatioll, temper, taste; And he that seem'd our counterpart at first t

Soon shows the strong similitude reversed. Yonng heads are giddy, "nd young hearts are wa;rm, And make mistakes for manhood to reform. Boys are at best but pretty buds unblown, Villose se-ent and hues are rather guess?fl than known; Each dre.ms that each is just what he appears, But learns his error in maturer yeal'S~ vVhen disposition like a sail unrurl'd, Shows all its rents and patches to the world."

A young man's ideals make progress, if he makes progress; and, as a consequence, that which he once deemed admirable is no longer admirable in his improved sight. While, under such circumstances, a young man may have a duty to be friendly to those who are below his present ideal, and while he may have a duty to befriend those whom he once thought were worthy of his friendship, but from whom he has now grown away, he can not have a duty to be a friend,-a devoted, self-surrendering friend-in the best and highest sense of the term "friend," to one whose character is unworthy of his respect and loving admiration in the light of his present ideals of character. Our duty, in all our in all our strivings, and in all our self-surrenderings, is too look upward. If it be so t~t in order to look upwal'd we must look away from one whom we would fain have called our truest friend, it is still our duty to look upward; for only as we look upward can we be a real friend, and only one whom we can have in view while we are looking upward is worthy to have and to hold our unswerving friendship.

Even a seeming friendship that has been left behind should be held in sacred and tender regard by 11S, and we ought never to be untrue to the truest intel'eets of one whom we looked upon at any time ae a friend. But a real friendship can and will be held in sacred and tender regard because of what it is to us now, and because of what the friend is in himself for now and for always. And it is because a real friendship involves all this, that he who is to be a real friend is cautions in making a friendship.

-Sunday School '.rimes,


HOME CONVERSATIONS.

BY DECIXDA AND TUBAL MILKINS.

CHAPTER II.

IT was some days before Tubal had miwh of anything special to say. Tubal is a

great thinker, only his thoughts come slowly at times. He puzzles his poor br.ain a good deal, and I sometimes feel sorry for him. I can not avoid it, although I presume it don't do much good; but I can't help it, and that's all there is about it.

My husband has quite a goodly shaped head, too; but then, I sometimes seriously doubt as to the science(?) of phrenology, whether it's genuine. Nothing has caused me to more seriously question it than the conduct of my husband, Tubal Milkins. I used to think I'd start out sometime as a phrenologicallectures8; but since my marriage to Tubal, I have given it up entirely. His talks are in the evening, of course; he works all day, and taking his dinner with bim, he is denied the pleasure of dinner chat.

It is said that women are great talkers; but anyone who will hear my Tubal, will surely change his mind on that point. No one would presume to question his sincerity and honesty; but still it is a strange thing how honesty ever took up, and linked. arms with "Such rigidity of Puritanical ideas as his. I had always thought sincerity tied up to gentleness and meekness; but I sometimes fear it is like dog Tray -found. in poor company. This may sound peculiar, coming from a woman of my pretentions; but I try never to pretend upon more than I possess.

About three evenings after our former conversation, my husband came home somflwhat burdened. He didn't start in, however, until after tea. Said he: "Decinda, I learn there is going to he a Woman's Rights meeting held in the town hall to-morrow evening, and a woman by the name of Susan B. Anthony is to speak. The handbills say that all the ladies of the town are cordially invited. Can it be a possible thing that God has let this world stand, stand, I say, not revolve, for nigh onto six thousand years, and no one ever knew what rights belonged to women till Susan became a woman? I would jest like for Susan to read Paul's letter to

the Ephesians, fifth chapter, where he' says: 'Wives, submit yours131ves unto yourown husbands as unto the Lord.' Thek rights go no further than what the husband may allow. That's it, Decinda; and no woman has any right to call in question the propriety or correctness of her husband's opinion on anything, nor to be disloyal to any of his wishes, than she has: to disobey the Lord. . You see, Decinda dear, men are the Lords of creation; their" home author.ity has biblical sanctionr Paul understood this. Women are not .. supposed to know as mnch as men, nor to· be as wise and good-sensed as men. Women are generally very fickle and foolish" while men are steady and powerful. The idea of a woman supposing to know her' rights, as though the Bible didn't tell it plainly! Paul said: 'Therefore, as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their husbands in everything. You see it says 'everything.' Paul furthersays, in writing to the Corinthians: 'And jf they will Jearn anything, let them ask their husbands at home.' Paul said, 'learn anything;' matters not what it may be,the husband is supposed to know every .. thing! God knew what he was doing when he gave mam supreme power over' women.

"I tell you, Decindal, Congress can never" afford to give women what they so unscrupulously ask.

"I fear Susan will w0rk harm to the' town, and make women feel big-headed. Look at Mrs. Doogins; why, she'll bust over this thing; and Mrs; ,Jendors, and Mrs. Riggins; the'll jest raise this town. I feel it my duty to advertise a reply to Susan, and use the Bible. That's the strong-hold for ns men that seek ourtights as 'Lords of Creation.'''

"Tubal," said I, "this will never do., Supposing Susan does lecture on Woman's Rights; isn't this a free country," and can't people talk so long as they talk aright?" .

"Yes; but they don't talk right," interrupted Tubal.

"Men talk about women's sphere; and. dictate to us our rights and privileges,.


HOME OONVERSATIONS.

just as though we had none but what men might give us. Has not woman a sphere, as well as mail? If she is his equal, has she not equal privileges, if she wishes to use them? Do women ten men this or that as regards their public liberties, duties or rights? JYlen claim their rights are self-asserting; are the of women self-asserting? Yes; but men have ignored them; and although woman's indispensable presence has not been mistaken, yet the rights that properly belong to her have been studiously evaded.

"Woman has been modest regarding her rights; and she has been too much so. The texts you use no more support your perverted views of woman, than other writings of Paul could be made to support human slavery as found cursing this free country. Paul's words as found in Ephesians (3: 5, 6, Collossians 3: 22, 1 Timothy 6: 1, Titus 2: 9, 1 Peter 2: 18, etc., with others, were heralded as the utterances of God supporting human slavery; hut it was a mistaken idea, and God wiped it out hy blood.

'''They talk about a woman's sphere As though it had a limit.

There's not Ii, place in earth or heaven; There's not a ta-k to manhood given; There's not a blessing or a woe; There's not a whispered yes, or no; There's not a life, or death, or birth, That has a feather's weight worth,

Without a woman in And who can successfully deny it? Tubal, when God made man he was left alone-alone, Tubal dear; and when all the animal" passed by him, and he named them, not one was found as companionable as was, possibly, a ~ew Foundland dog; and even such caresses didn't satisfy Adam's lone heart. The wagging of its tail didn't enliven the loneliness of Eden but insignificantly. Oh, no, 'rubal; God said, 'It is not good for man to be alone.' Some one should be made as an image of himself. So 'a sleep fell upou Adam, and God took from his side a rib;' from this, it is written, God 'made a woman, and brought her unto the man;' and Adam said, 'This is now bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, beciuse she was taken out of man.' Paul understood woman's equality-equality, Tuhal, when he wrote: 'Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the

'Church, and gave himself for it. . • . So ought men to love their wives as their

own bodies. He that loveth his wife 10veth himself.'

"There are two sides to this question. No man who loves his wife truly, will be found domineering over her, and 'bossingthings' anywhere.

"vVoman was not taken from man's foot to be beneath him; lmt from his side, to be a companion, 'an helpmeet,' for him. No man who loves his wife to the extent that he would lay down his life for her sake, if need be, will be found exercisinga lordly dictatorship over her, and strutting with a wanton pride that is begotten of an illiterate, self-conceited ignorance,. that only helittles a man in God's sight and a true woman's estimation.' Women know when men act as men, as well as men are supposed to know a goodly woman.

"It will never do for you to reply to Miss Anthonv; what would the town-folks say? Mr. J~i:tdors would have a royaf feast, no doubt; while Mr. Doogins could' not contain himself for laughter. Tubal, dear, you must not attempt it; I hesee0h you."

"There you are again; you are always running me down, and I don't like it; you· need more of the Holy Spirit, Decinda, and should sf,ek for it earnestly. I fear· you'll be lust in darkness yet, if you don't stop assuming to teach mel"

This rather surprised me, I must confess. I was not assuming to teach; I merely suggested this. Tubal has strange views of the Holy Spirit's guidance. But I bear with him as patiently as I can.

"Tuhal," I resumed, "I am not vain· glorious, I trust; but allow me only to say· of your views of matters, that while to' you they may be very clear, and seem right--for the Bihle says, 'A man's ways seemeth right in hi~ own sight,-still they are open to public inspection, and I think them unwise. Miss Anthony has a worldwide fame, and YOll are hut l~cally known; there is a great difference. And more-ovm'; she has studied this question for years; and although she may be radical, yet, in the ma,in she may be clear-headed."

"Well, I fear the result," said my husband. "Y Oll see, Dceinda," he continued, walking the floor, "it is worse than ever. You call her Miss. Why, what does an upstart of a girl sixteen or eighteen years of age know about woman's rights? I say it is worse than ever! Girls going ahout chewing gum, so simple like, talk


544 HOME CONVERSATIONS.

against Paul! Decinda, it'll not do; had· I been Mayor of the town I'd never allowed on it. 'If I were a Marshal I'd arrest her without a warrant, and bide the consequences."

Tubal used some more of his fist commas and heel periods. I had quite a time with him. Tilly Jane was pained at his talk. Unit looked sad; for I have always taught them respect for father and mother, however incompl'chensible their ways may seem to children.

"Tubal, Miss Anthony is growing old; she is a maiden lady, and a woman of much literary culture. Of course it is but right that I should have a good opinion' -of my own sex, and I hope I ever shall. vVoman, who is t,he molder of human destiny, the framer of human character, the mother of. nations, the potent factor in all the varied classifications of human lives. was not made for menial work nor servil~ place. She was made to stand by a man's side; sit with him; to talk with him; enter into his eonnsels; be a wise suggestor, and an instrueto1' in many respeets.

"There are men who owe all their good fortune, all the genuine manhood they ever possess, to the honorable infiuenee Df virtuous womanhood.

"The mother of Washington was nn excellent woman of business; and to possess such a quality as capaeity for business is not compatible with true womanliness, but is in a measure essential to the eomfort and well-being of every properly governed family. I believe that, Tubal; and I firmlv believe, am most thouroughly persuaded, that habits of business do not relate to trade merely, but apply to all the practical affairs of Hfe. It is said that Grnthe, like Schiller, owed the basis of his mind and charaeter to his mother, who was a woman of extra,· ordinary gifts. Nations are but the out· comes of homes, and peoples of mothers. What kind of a world would this have been without woman? A garden of Eden with a man not knowing any more than to till the same-for his own selfish use.

"I scarcely am inelined to think that woman's greatness-greatness, Tubalcould be materially enhanced by gaining political poteney; but there are other things, grand in their spheres, that woman 'should be reeognized in as a power for the good of nations. Whatever is the charac·

tel' of woman, that is the diaracter of man. Man's morality depends largely upon woman's virtue; man's power for good, upon woman's elevation, and man's enlightenment, upon woman's edueation. All history proves this. And when women have been oppressed, degraded, men have stood low in the seale of their existence.

"Men are admirers of women; and as woman is elevated, and stands high, no man will stand baek upon his manhood and he found possessing less admirable traits than she. So they are the inspirers of men; and are the world's glory, the world's honor! Suppress her virtuous claims, and men extingnish the light of the world's sun."

"There you are again," said Tubal, "running down the Bible. Doesn't it saY' tllat ,Tesus is the light of the world, and not women?"

Tubal, you are too short-sighted for any praetical usc. I stand by what I've said, and abide the consequences of

" said Unit, "I read in a book

something concerning the greatness of women like this: 'lY[en themselves can not be sound in mind or morals. if women be the reverse; and if, as we hold to be the

the moral eondition of a people mainly upon the education of the home, then the edueation of women is to be reg-aded afl 8, matter of NATIONAL IM

PORT;NCE! Not onlv does the moral eharacter, hut the mental "strength, of man, find its best and support in the moral purity and mental eultivation of woman.'"

"And I, Father," chimed in Tilly Jane, "have a word to say for women. I am just verging on to womanhood, and am desirous of knowiIlg what a woman is expected to be. I once read in a hook 'in onr own time it has been said that ehemistry enough to keep the pot boiling and geography enough to know the different rooms of her own house, was science enough for any woman.' And Byron is said to have had a poor opinion of womanhood and its advantages. He said that he 'would limit her librarv to a Bible and a Cook Book.' I think that is perfectly ridiculous."

"What more need a woman have?" queried Tubal; you ehildren are growing wild, I fear, and are partaking of the fractiolls spirit and ways of the times. You need. the Holy Spirit; it willoteach you


HOME CONVERSATIONS.

right things. You childl'en should kIiow that the wor~d is fast now, and the good, quiet days of a century ago are not with us now."

Tubal uttered these words with an air of solemnity that, tome, was amusing. He. was to some extent agitated over this interpolation by the childl'ell, but not as much as I had expected. He spoke of a century ago as though he had passed through it alL .

"Tu bal, I must notice an observation of yours regarding Paul's writing about women." said I, "in Ephesians: 'submitting yourselves one to another, in the fear of God.' You notice the submission is to be mutual, a little of yielding on both sides. Again, in the thirty-third verse: 'Let everyone of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the· wife see that she reverence her husband.' This is not all one sided. Again, when Paul told the sisters to 'ask their husbands at home,' he evidently knew what kind of husbands they should be; should be men of good judgment, clear discernment and enlightened reason; men who had a knowledge of the thing inquired about -else how should they intelligently instructtheir wives? He knew they should be men who were kindly disposed and gentle; unassuming in their manner, not gruff and stern and harsh; men who imitated the meekness lowliness of ,Jesus, and sought to cultivate a quiet spirit. For a woman to ask such a husband would be a pleasure. And I dare say, husband Tubal, that Paul understood it th::j.t way as well. He was too grand a man to have some dear humble sister a,sk of a burly, surly husband about ohuroh matters. when that husband's stupidity and ign~ranoe disgl'aoed his profession. And, moreover, supposing some sister bad a husband not a member of the church, but a Pagan idolater, how could she ask him?"

"There you are cried "insinuating that I'm no better than a Pa-

Decinda, you drive me almost to distraction! I ean't stand this! Oh dear! oh dear!" And he wrung' his hands and the :floor as in great distress. I know he will have all my sitting room earpet worn ill holes, if he doesn't aet differently.

"Decinda,'; he continued, "I fear this thing is too far. If :.vIiss Susan jest knowed what trouble her handbills have

made alriddy, she'd leave town, if she had a mite of decency about her, and cared for domestic happiness in other folks' families! She's an old, drjed-up maid, disappointed in love sometime, I reckon; now she wants 'rights,' something she's conjured up herself."

":-fot so, Tubal," said I; "quite to the contrary. No telling how many proffers to marry she has refused. She has been ""''''''''''\0 obtain for women that recognition as human beings of which they are but deserving. I dare say her 180ture in this town of Belthouse will prove very savory. There has always been a feeling existing against woman not to be reasonably acc<;H1nted for. Men have taken upthe refrain generation after generation, failing to note the absurdity of the position oceupied, until woman herself dared to announce it. I do not advocate a strict intermeddling with political affairs; but woman should be heard, and shall be, up-on all questions of moral and social· reform. vVoman is capable of a more highly refined sentiment than man, l)ecause of her mental make-up; and her seritiments are not mere, sentimental chaff; but contain practical thought, susceptible of practical application! Women know telegraph wires are not made of cotton thread, nor bridges built of bees-wax. vVoman is an important and indispensible factor for good in matters of religion, and she posst'sses the power to enthrone morality in a man's heart, or at her wish to depose it. And you shoula remember that religion minus morality is no religion at all, 'ruhal dear. If would hut heed voice I could an angel or demon you. Woman can talk so finely and silvery, so sublimely and soothingly, so grandly and wooingly, that by it man 'would feel that he were floating in glotified spaee, filled with rapturous ecstacy.

she can talk so bravely and defiantbly, so harshly and crueland furiously, as to make

crawl at feet like a coward-"'""UHUIJl,,, his way from her presence, and

very existence. God has ordained that, while men shall manifest God·like traits in meehanism and varied forms of skillful work, women shall manifest the other God-like traits, of mercy, love, gentleness, intellectuality, refinement and true honor.

"Hushand, there are men in the town of


646 HOME OOi-l'VERSATIOi-l'8.

Belthouse that entertain low conceptions of woman; and their \vives prove my statement true. The washing of pots and pans, skillets and kettles, does not complete woman's sphere of proper action. These with cooking, etc., are needful, but not all she has to do."

"vYell, well," remarked Tubal, "what things are coming to I can't tell. DecincIa, never before talked like this. I fear you may make a demon of me but I cling to the promise of the

to help me bear these trials. vYe've malTied nigh on to twenty

and while I confess been a wife to me, yet I have many times feared for salvation.

spoke these words with tears, and humbly. I was rather surprised.

don't know when I've seen a tear moist-those black eyes; not in a long

'twas because he had broken a shav-

he resumed after a moto swallow Adam's apple,

visit to Belthouse prove a very thing. You see she sectarian, antI sectarians are so mis

guided, and 'in such error on so many points, I fear the result of her lecture. Before we retire for the night le.t us pray that the Lord will send a ,heavy

cause black clouds to roll and toss and greatly threaten storm, so as

thismeetin'. I thinkit,vould The prayers of the right

the Bible says; and I to do the right You see if a

storm threaten to come, the women will hardly venture out; and I don't think many 'of the menfolk will keel' much about hearin her any how. If I owned a print

office I wouldn't print her bills for her. she is whollv out of her line of

work. Better she wer~ hired ill somebody's kitchen. I suppose, she wears bloomers, and looks queer? How manly some women do want to be! It is terrible, I declare. What about that prayer, Decinda?"

"Husband Tubal," I "I'm not willing we should so pray. Jesus taught his people better things. He said: 'All things, whatsoever ye would,' etc., and L assure you, if you were preaching, as you sometime hope to be, and should go to a town and post your bills for meeting, yon wouldu't like to have such prayers answered against you, The world do not

error as her work. pray."

and deem us in Anthony in

I shall not so

"Well, Decinda, I hadn't thought of that; that's 80. But I'm so harrasseel over this I don't know what to do. vYe'l1 trust to Providence; may be he'll strike the with lightning before hand, or after lecture, to show his disapproval. And if he do, Decinda, I tell you I'm in the right on this I have and

with you all I can. "rrubal," said T, "it seems to me that

you concern yourself more about this mat-ter than is call for. You will wear out your brain so much anxious thought and feeling. I am glad 'Bu-

. san is coming to and I hope the weather may be aU that could be de-sired for good. I shall al1d hear and as a family, each one go. Peo-ple professing manners treat stlangers courteously, and welcome them to the town, however much we may differ from them in opinion. Opinion is sometimes strong and well taken; other times weakly and ill-founded.

"Husband, you rememBer how ,Tesus rebuked his disciples when they mentioned the calling of fire down from heaven upon cerliain folk, and he told them they knew not what spirit were of? "Ve are under obligation duty and honor before God and man to be quiet and unas"LLU.HH~ in these things. Anything breathing revenge is not what it should be, I fear. 'V omen are aehieving wonderful things in ihis age; and it is because they now have better opportunities and advantages, as also less oppressive measures to weigh upon them, imposed by men. 'Voman has be-come a inventor. It is said the pat-ent records at Wasl1ington show models of inventive genins to the extent of one thotisaml nine hundred! The man who engineered Brooklyn bridge received material help from his wife The state librarians of Iowa, Kentucky, Indiana, Louisiana, 3'lichigan, and Mississippi, are women. The editor of the New Orleans Picayune is a lady, Mrs. E. .r. Nicholson. Tubal, women are not so weakly as might be presumed.

"You'll promise me to hear Miss Anthony to-morrow evening? It can do you no harm, and possibly much good."


A SPRAY OIt' LEAVJ!]S.

"I'll promiRe to go upon one condition," said Tubal; ",and that is, you promise me that you'll not imbibe any of her nonsensical idees. For this reason: she may act .smart, no doubt, and so present her argnments as to look pl'111s'ble, and I don't keel' to heel' any on'em hereafter. N ow, if yon'll in'omise me, Dednc1a

tar hods, nor build fences, nor drive an omnibus. 0, no, Tubal, Susan shall not influence me that way. Shall we go? Of conrse Unit and Tilly Jane will bo delighted to hear a . lecture."

The children had some time be-fore, so they did not hear this later exchange of views.

to be a humble woman, obeying me according to Paul's instruction, I'll go and hear Susan."

"I reckun I'd best go; but, Decinda, 'tis the trial of my life," said Tubal, walking the floor, and looking sad and wistful. He wore quite an anxious look; you would "I shall promise but this, husband Tu

bal, to listen attentively to all she have thought he was to be hanged have to say; and whatever of some and not quieted his gives, I'll try to as good as I do not propose ~ bloomers or

conscience vet. \IV e retir~d for the night, for

or kind of ):Ien are the morrow to its load of cares and .onough. I its trials and V~'u,"'UJ',"""

A SPHAY OF LEAVES.

Bitter sweet's scarlet, buttercup's Crimson of dovel', of

These are the colora tile autumn leaves hold, Beautiful, wonderful

Leaves that in Rmmner are sun kissed and green, Patient through ali the withering heat;

Leaves that in fltll are counted as mean, Out in the cold under one's feet.

Are leaves so common and beauty so old, Our hearts so tender and hands so strong,

That of scarlet, aud blessing of Should be trampJed and crushed by us all day

Promises written by God's own hand, On the wonderful book of the world's highway,

Promises read as if written in sand you and by me, who are thoughtless to-day.

I wonder if lea.ves are the only That are green in the first and crushed at la~t,

If the scarlet and that autumn Ever quite make up for the sunshine past.

Oh, heart; your wonder is foolish and vain; Your and your songs are all ont of tune,

For smiled on by sunshine and tended by rain, 'Tis easy to rustle and keep green in June.

Only God knows how hard when low in the dust, To make bitter sweet scarlet, with no ray of light;

God does know-the God who is loving and jnstAnd somehow, or somewhere, will make it all right.

Selected.


RO BINS IN DISTRESS.


ROBINS IN DISTRESS.

BY "FRANCES.'-'

IT was a day early in the month of December when the robins of Glen Cove

met together for the purpose of consulting with reference to the time of departure for a warmer clime. The morning was lovely, and the air was almost as balmy as though the month had been April instead of December. The sun shone with brightness and diffused a grateful warmth over hill and valley, while a soft blue haze lingered low by the horizon, like the memorv,of a dav in Indian Summer.

We ~aid the· robins had met for consultation; but as all had not yet come who were sure to be there, there was a confus'ed fluttering of wings, a mel~ry twitter mingled with rare snatches of song; for it is only in the Springctime that robin -opens his throat and pours forth such melody as caused the poet to sing, '''Ho. robin-red bre;!st, gentle robin dear; Robin sings so sw eUy in the coming of the

Poets, you know, are allowed to take license in the use of words; and it is not ,the New Year which the poet here means by "coming of the year," but the springtime when all nature awakes and shakes her garments, laying aside her sparkling gems, so cold and frosty, and robing her'self in emerald green.

But we must go back to the robins, for there is important business on hand which we shall miss if not in time. Among the number was one who seemed to be recognized as a leader, for after he had settl~i himself firmly on a limb he rose upon his feet, and flapping his wings swiftly up and down, gave a shrill call. \Vith this the others ceased all twittering and chatter, and gathered close around on the limbs nearest to him. After the groups silently a few moments he settled himself in a comfortable position, 'and while the warm sunshine bathed his tawnv said:

"You all know that we have met . e1' to-da,y for the purpose of consulting as

to when we shall leave for our winter home. The sun is bright and warm this imorning, but the cold last night was

pinching, and even through the best shelter which I could find of dried leaves still hanging to the trees, the frost penetrated, and this morning my feathers were white and shining like crystals; I t.hink it is high time we were on the wing."

"There is plenty of food yet," spoke up a bright red-breasted bird, "and I do love this spot of earth better than any otl1,er my foot ever rested upon. The nights arc somewhat cold to be sure, but I sit close by my mate and gather my young family all around me. Then we just tuck our heads under our wings and sleep.till the sun comes up. I am sure warmth is not everything in life! I was born in Glen Cove, and here I have raised my first brood of young ones; and I for one do not feel like leaving it yet."

"~ol' I," "nor I," piped several young ones in chorus.

To the of this brood sat a graver bird, whose manner was more subdued and v:oioe less eager as she spoke:

"I too am thinking it is time we were up and away. Why, only the other night the high winds blew me from my perch and threw me rudely upon the frozen ground. Not being able to see in the dark, I was compelled to sit all night upon the cold ground in terror of my life, for there are so manv wicked animals who choose the night time in which to prowl around seeking their helpless victim,s. My feet arc not so strong as thev used to be. and I know if we l~emain here much l~llger some, night I shall be blown down and covered up in the snow. voice is that to-morrow we begin our journey to the South. I have raised many broods of young ones in this as you my daugh-ter know; but this is in the year tha,n 'we were ever found here before, and I beg you will cast your vote for going."

This last sentence was addressed to the bright young robin who had last, and who was about to reply when inter

hy another upon her right: thiIlk if ')irds \"ho arc growing old

and whose feet are weak, would sleep


550 ROBINS IN DISTRESS.

near the ground, they would not feel the wind so much nor be in danger of falling. For one I have a rare project in my head, and I am not going to vote go by any means."

The old bird who had just spoken looked wistfully at this younger one, and would have said, "Don't you think it is cold and lonely for us down near the ground? You will know when you are older that even old birds long for companionbhip, and love to have their nestlings around them when darkness covers the earth and the leaves whisper snch strange, weird stories to each other, while the branches moan as the wind sobs and sighs among them." But before she could put these thoughts into words, two or three piping voices were raised together exclaiming:

"Oh, tell us what your project is, for we are ready to join you in it provided it promises us a longer stay in Glen Cove!"

"Well, I do not object to telling you," replied Miss Robin, and soon each one was listening expectantly. "I was talking with grandmother to-day, and she told me that in all her life she had never spent a Christmas in Glen Cove. N ow for my part I think it would be just grand to stay here until after Christmas, and spend New Years in our southern home."

"I agree with you most heartily," piped a young male robin who was sitting on a bough just above the speaker, "it would be a new departure, and quite aristocratic in its way."

"Perhaps you would not think it quite so aristocratic when your feathers were covered with ice and your feet frozen fast to the limb of a tree," dryly remarked an old robin.

"The hemp bushes will shelter' UR and furnish us Ollr breakfast too, for many a day yet," said the pert young bird. .

"As for me," spoke another, I do not intend to breakfast on hemp seed "'hile rich kernels of hickory nuts are to be had for the asking."

"Where?" said several, in a chorus. "Ah, that now is a secret;" said Miss

Robin, as she perched her head npon one side and cast a shy glance at the limb above her; "but as there are plenty, I don't mind telling. You all know a bonny, blue-eyed la~s we often meet when we go to the village for an extra bite of dain ty food?"

"Do you mean the little girl who is always pulling a baby-wagon?" said one.

"Yes, that is the one." "Oh, we all know her," piped the rest

in chorus. "She is the one who put this Christmas

project into my head," said Miss Redbreast. "I was hiding in a vine close by her window one evening, when I spied her at work upon such a lovely bit of woolen stuff that my curiosity was excited and I watched her closely. Presently another girl came into the room, and then such chatting about a Christmas Tree and all the wonderful things which would be on it you never heardl But I am sure of one thing, if you had heard it you would be jnst as anxious to remain as I am." ~

"vVhat good could it do us," piped the others, "when we do not know where it is~ to be?"

"Ah, there you are mistaken. Trust me for finding out all which is to be' known when I put my wits to work. You all know the brick church on the hill close by?"

, "Oh, yes, there is where the children march from when they come to the Cove.'"

"Yes, and that is where the children are to have their Christmas Tree, and for one I am determined to see it."

"And I," "and I," piped a score of voices. "But what about the nuts?" said one, more demure than the others?"

"Oh, I forgot," said Miss Redbreast. This same blue-eyed girl has a pile of hickory nuts, larger than any sqnirreI ever yet laid by, and she is not half so saving of them, but scatters them about in a plentiful manner. She loves the sunshine and fresh air so well that she cracks them out doors and eats there what she does not leave for the hire1's breakfast. She is a generous little maid, with cheeks as rosy as my breast." And just here Miss Redbreast raised her feathers that her plumage might be duly admired.

A brief silence followed, when the leader, rising slowly to his feet said:

"J t is all well enough to talk about Christmas and Christmas trees, but I trust none of you will for a moment think of staying here any longer than to-morrow. With the first dawn of day I shall rouse all my family and we will be upon the Willg before the sun rises; and my advice' is tl~at you all meet me here, a~d let us~ make the journey together. The way will:


ROBINS IN DISTRESS. 551

not seem so long, and by this means you will secure s,afety and comfort. The sun which shines 1'\0 warm and bright to-day will be covered soon, and the storm clouds will break over the land, and if any of you should remain you will either perish or suffer much before you reach the south. There is already in the air that feeling of subdued quiet which is the forerunner of a storm. and such a one as will prove merciless, showing you no pity. Come then, let us unite as one family, and be gone before it reaches us."

"I wonder if he is not fighting his own shadow this time?" whispered Miss Redbreast to the young robin next her.

"What do you mean by that," answered the bird ~poken to, ill the same low tone.

"Why, have you not heard that last Spring when we first came up here our leader staid by on6 bay-window for three weeks fighting his own shadow? I thought all the Cove robins knew this.

i Surely you have not forgotten how his mate grieved over his absence, aR she was left to brood over her eggs alone."

"Oh, I remember now; but, pray, how did you find out where he was and what he was doing."

"I heard my little friend of the Christmas Tree telling another girl all about it; and she said that her sister finally took pity on him, and fearing he would beat his life out in his fierce driving against the window pane, she nailed a cloth outside of the window. When he could no longer see himself in the glass, then he came home to his mate."

"I wonder if he ever told her about it," whispered the bird to Redbreast.

"Oh, yes, but I assnre yon I had to laugh when I heard the straight of the story; for you must know that I overbeaTd him telling his mate what a brave defense he had been making for his home, against the attacks of one of the fiercest enemies he had ever contended with. Don't you think that a great deal of male bravery might be traced up in the same way?"

N ow this was rather a home thrust, so the young robin feigned not to hear it, but his feathers fairly quivered with suppressed laughter; for it would not do to show disrespect to their leader, even if he had been the hero of a sham battle. He was going to reply to Miss Redbreast,

when the flapping of the leader's wings called them to order; and settling their feathers they were soon all respectful at· tention while he announced his decision.

"It is a time-honored custom, as you are all aware," said he,' "to meet here at my suggestion, and consult with reference to the time of our migration. I must say that my advice has always been followed in the past, and I trust it will be now. I shall be here very early in the morning to begin my flight in company with all who wish to go with me; and now, that we may prepare for our long journey, let us adjourn the meeting."

To this all consented readily; but while some flew away immediately, others separated into groups, keeping np a lively chattering with each other. Conspicuous in one of these groups was Miss Redbreast; and from appearances she was having a happy time.

"For my part," she was saying, "I can't see why we should always be governed by his advice. I think we have fully proved that he is not any wiser than any other bird; and for one I am going to stay until after Christmas, provided a half dozen or more of yon will stay with me. What do you say?"

"I will," said one, "and I," said another; "you 03.n count upon me," said a third, unti1 soon eight or ten had ,volunteered to remain with Miss Redbreast.

And so' it happened that when the morning came and the robins of Glen Cove started early, from nearly every family one or two was missing, and the mother robins bore sad hearts with them; for they feared that misfortune won Id overtake their foolish nestlings, and they would perish in the storms of winter long before the Christmas-tide would come. So heavy were their hearts that thev made but poo; headway with their wings; and when before night the clouds coveTed the snn and large flakes of snow began to fall, they prevailed upon their leader to Rtop early, for they did not want to increase the distance between them and their disobedient children. They stopped in a sheltered valley protected on all sides by high hills, and as the storm raged the next day with great fury they hopped among the leaves, picking up sHch crumbs of food as they could find, not wishing to resume their journey until the storm was over.

In the meantime how fared it with the


ROBINS IN DISTRESS.

young birds who had stayed behind? Bent upon having a good time in their own way, it can not be denied that a feeling of loneliness came over them they found themselves left, behind, and saw their best friends like specks in the distance; and had a feeling of 11ride prevented, they would have flown after them. They conld not bear the thought however of being laughed at, and so hopped around in search of a breakfast, for which they had little appetite; and soon thev all huddled close together on the I'lUnny side of a hill, and beg'in to talk abont the good time coming, when they should see the Ohristmas Tree loaded with all its fine things. Such mUBic as there

'would be, and lights! Why it would be as brilliant as day for a long distance all around the church, and then such a queer old man as Santa Olauswas in his sleigh, wit;h buffalo robes and bells strung all over his reindeer team!"-

"But," interrupted one robin, "I can't see what there will in all this to interest us. There will not l)e a the tree for us, and tIle music and won't warm our toes or shelter us from the storm. Oh, dear; I am afraid we shall wish ourselves with our mothers long before that time comes!"

There was a suspicious moisture in more than one eye at this remark; and if robins could cry, we firmly believe they would have shed tears then--altllOugh

Redbreast set up a pitiful at song, and strove to seem as happy and gay as a lark. Yet it was plain to be seen that even sLe was by no means inclined to be as and saucy as she had been the day In a short time the sun was clouded. and the wind began to whistle through the Cove. Soon the clouds 1ow, ~nd large flakes of snow begau to fall. There was not much said bv the robins, for they se"'med too intently listening to the rising wind and the snap}Jing and of the hranches above their heads. Presc·mtly a bro'\vn sq uinel 'Came to look a knothole in a

but seeing storm abroad, back to·-his warm .

ever until he advised shelter from the storm; " said he, "those banked up clouds indicate a fieree one. "

The day wore on with no abatement of the storm; and one one the robins set-

tIed quietly down, up by each other, and yet feeling and lonely. It was not possible for them to start in pursuit of their friends while the wind blew as it did; and all being young birds they did not know where to seek shelter, or how to care for themselves. They heard a fal'mer near by calling his cattle and to the warm shelter of the barn; but no voice called to them, and the cold was every moment increasing. Not a feather of their poor, numb bodies but was lifted and searched hy the wind, while the snow blinded their sight and was fast covering the earth in a cold white mantle.

"There is nothing left for us but to per-ish,'" one of the of the gr~up, as the wind so that his voice could be

"And I am not sure hut we deserve to for our ingratitude," said another.

"I have been " sa,id 'Miss Red-"that is was a very selfish thing in

me to wish to remain here when mv father and mother wanted me to go witJ~ them, and it was mean to try and persuade others to join me in my disobedience. I think I might feel better if I was the only one to su:ff'er-"

Just here a, fiercer gale than ever blew her voice quite away; and as she had hard work to hold on to the limb, she thought how little pity she had felt the day before for the poor old robin who had eomplained of her feet not being so strong as they used to be. "If ever I live to see her again, I will tell her how sorry I am," was the mental resolve of Redbreast.

Again the wind lulled and a quiet little bird flew down beside Redbreast and whispered in her ear:

"Let us seek a shelter for the night, alld early in the morning start after our dear fri.mds. are grieving for us; and while we make unhappy we our-selves arB still very miRerable,"

"\Vith all my heart.," said Redbreast. "I am ready to do as von but where shall we firi'a a shelter" from storm?"

"There is an old hollow tree not far away from here, into whieh we can all

~nld stay until the light of mornwhen if all agree with ~lS, we will

0UI' parents and friel1ds; for my heart will break here before Christmas CaInes."

"Christmas," sltid Redbreast, bitterly!


ROBINS IN DISTRESS, ,55.3

'''Christmas is a time of good will; and pray what good will to others or to our:selves can ever come of such selfishness. It would not be Christmas to us if it We1'e here to-day. It would only he Christmas in name. If we live through this storm, and join our friends and make them by showing them how sincerely we repented of our folly and cruelty to them, tbat will be a Christmas dav to us sucb as no ot.her one could be." •

"Let us hasten then before the darkness ·comes and find a sbelter."

Taking advantage of another lull in the storm Redbreast called to the other birds to fIDllow; and by her quiet friend she led the way to the sheltering tree.

Arrived however, a new difficultv arose, for the timid birds were afraid t~ enter lest should encounter a foe more cruel than the storm. In this dilemma Redbreast came to the rescue and volunteered to explore the opening first.

"I was the one who von into the trouble," said she, "and will do all I can to help you out of it."

Then she hopped bravely into the open-but her heart beat so loud that she

thought all the others could hea,r and she felt as though she would smother with its throbbings. Pausing a few moments until her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she flew cautious Iv around, and at last di scoverecl high up" in the tree a little shelving place; and npon lighting she found that there was comfortable standing room; aud by crowding close together tbere would he room enough for all. It was ligbter here at the place ,she came in at, and upon looking up she discovered an opening just above hel~. A happy struck her; aud making bel' wav to hole she found it was the top of . the tree, and sl,e could lead the other birds in here with out taking them through the narrow, dark place she had trembled to enter. She could not refrain from a moment on the top, just ~o say: "Oh, how happy I am In trymg to serve others; even when trembling with fear I was happier than when anticipating the greatest joy the Christmas Tree could " And thinking these thoughts she burst into a strain of song so loud and joyous that all the birds hastened to meet her and learn the good news.

Happy Redbreast! she little the danger she had escaped; and there would have been little comfort for any of them had they known that at hottomof the opening a cunning old fox had his nest. When Redbreast had fluttered in he was asleep, but his eyes in time to see her flying uPi and then hearing her song as she flew from the top of the tree, he stationed himself just a little back of the opening, keeping his eyes intently fixed upon it, ready for a spring upon tbe first bird that should enter. But while Rey-

the lower the way to

tered place she had chosen, through the upper one, and for that time at least outwitted the cunning thief. Here the robins nestled closely together, and in spite of theil' the fierce storm without, and their own grief, were all very soon sleeping soundly.

It had been hefore went in to their nest that with the first dawn of day they would start upon their ney. They thought it safest, for fear of some hidden enemy, to do all talking be-fore into the tree; and as Redbreast had herself so efficient in gaining them such a safe and comfort,able place in which to spend the night, they voted that she should take the lead in all til they overtook their friends or ,·"""t,,,rI the place to which were going.

The first dawn of found her with eyes wide open and to hear whether the storm was As quiet-Iv as the top of the tree; and it was pos-sible fOJ: them to their joul'l1ey she gave a shrill call soon brought the rest to her side; and after a brief consultation as to direction and the height at which should fly, with worcls of encouragement from Redbreast, started upon their journey.

With unflagging and weary, she led them on.

Now in the front, again darting back to some lagging one; then at the

side the wi;] gs of another were weary, even putting h'er own beneath to help her companion on. with a trill of song she would put new life into each one, and darting before them would make a circuit of inspection, hoping to find a place where a morsel of food might be obtained. Despite her most heroic ef-


554 THE TWO ARIIHES.

forts, however, she could not take the keen frost out of the air, nor remove the snow from the fields to discover the hidden grain. Their feet were bitten by the cold; time and again but for her encouragement, they would have given up in despair. At last her seareh was rewarded by discovering a large barn with an open window in the upper part. Flying to this she lit upon the sill, and to her great joy discovered that here was shelter and food in abundance. Returning upon swift wing she led the weary birds to this haven of rest, and for very gladness could not eat until all had first satisfied their hunger. It was then decided that after a brief rest they would resume their journneyand travel to a certain wood where they would spend the night.

Now it chanced that this very wood was the place where the first party had

stopped during the day; and when toward night the young birds came fiying into its shelter, what was their joy to be met by parents and friends! vVe can not undertake to tell vou, but will not close our story without ;:elating that after par-taking of a bountiful of wild oats and red haws which the birds showed them where to find, Redbreast, who was appointed to speak for all the disobedient ones, said:

"Dear parents and friends, we stayed behind contrary to your counsel and wishes, intending to have a Merry Christmas time. We have had a weary time of

but have learned one lesson, which we hope never to forget, and that that even birds can not be happy in the selfish· persuit of their own pleasure and without regarding the feelings of others."

Let llS learn a lesson from the birds.

~~-.... --------

THE TWO ARlYlIES.

As life's unending column POUl'S,

Two marshalled hosts are seenTwo armies on the trampled shores,

That death fhws black between.

One marches to the drum-beat's The wide-mouth'd elarion's

And bears upon a sillgle scroll, "Our is to "

One moves in silence the stream, With sad, wakhful eyes;

C·llm the patient planet's gleam That walks the clouded skies.

Along its front no sabres No blood-red pinions wave;

Its banner bears the line, . "Our duty is to save."

For those no death-bed's lingering shade At honor's trumpet caI!;

With knitted brow and lifted blade, In arms they fall.

F·r these no clashing falchions bright, No battle CI'1;

The bloodless stabber calls night; Each answers, "Here am I."

For those the laurelled bust,. The builder's marble piles;

The anthems healing o'er their dust, Through long Cathedral aisles.

For these the blossom sprinkled turf That floods the lonely graves,

·When rolls in her :;e.a-green surf. In flowery, foaming waves.

Two paths lead upward from And angels wait above,

Who count each burning life-drop flow, Each falling tear of love.

Though from the hero's bleeding frost Her pulses freedom drew,

Though the white lilies in her crest Sprung from that scarlet dew.

While valor's haughty champions wait, Till all their scars are shown;

Love walks unchallenged through the gate, To sit beside the throne!


THE POOR WIDOW'S OFFERING.

A TRUE STORY.

BY ELON.

"Cast bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days."-Ecc. 11: 1.

CHAPTER Iv.

7JS yet Jack had not heard of Cumorah's / J. hill, the angel's vigil there, the coming forth of the Nephite record, and the proclamation of the fRlness of the gospel; but from some cause his heart began to long for Scriptural knowledge; indeed his soul thirsted for it. His boon companion was a pocket N ew Test~,ment, but he loved to read the Old Testament. The stories of the patriarchs and prophets were music to his souL '1'he life and miracles of Jesus, together with the writings and sketches of the apostles were full of interest, to him, and his youthful mind revelled amid the Psalms of Israel's sweetest and the proverbs of the world's wisest man. He now attended the Independent or day school; but ltS he early morning till late at leisure time to read. But meal times he would snatch a few moments, commit to memory a verse, or perhaps' a and whenever his mind was at liberty repeat them over to himself, and thus fasten them upon his memory; until by the time he was seventeen of age it would have heen ditlicult a person to refer to an or a passage recorded in the Bible that he was not familiar with. The mllllster of the Church a Theological class to study He chooso fi ttle Jack as one ~ember that he was about fifteen at this time. The minister became interested in Jack and offered to send him to to be educated for the min-istry. and the minister too, that was the only way to prepare ministry. He was d.elighted at the for he thought the means was within his reach of I;,etting a thorough education, and better than all, a knowledge of God's word. But the blacksmith claimed five or six veal'S more of hard l&bo1' out of

a:nd moreover that was not the way God ealled and qualified his ministry. Hence Jack received no collegiate education, nor even what is termecl a common

one; but from some cause or other there carne a desire into his soul to be made a minister of Christ's gospel. And ofttimes in the stillness of night he would retire to some lonely spot, a~d there under the smile of the silvery moon and the scintillations of the glittering stars, cry out from the depths of his soul in the language of Isaiah: "Here am I, I,ord, send me 'to preach thy gospeL'" But his hour had not come; his education was not completed; be must study a few more years at the anvil. He must learn to endure hardships; learn to control self, the hardest task of alL He must seek to God for wisdom. a night when all nature

Jack rise from his bed, light a go down stairs and there upon his with the open Bible before him,. search search for the hidden treas-ures. of knowledge therein ask-

the guidance of the Spirit his search. He always arose this re-search refreshed ~1lc1 comforted, and to some ex.tent About the time he was seventeen the Reverend PulcHer from America visited the town of "\Va18all, where Jack was serving his appl'entice-

and held a series of revival services at Baptist church. Jack went to hear, , and he liked his preaching on by immersion well that he to· join the Baptist church. This was his firsp open profession of religion. And he united with tbat chnrch.because it seemed to him to be the nearest in with the word of Goel. He realized no partic

but felt settled in a refigious visited various ch u~;ches,

but had no desire to until this time. A zealous old woman, who would have been shocked if she had been asked if she believed in living prophets, veal'S before that Jack

the' About the time that Jack joined cllureh, or a little be-

he and three other boys about his own age formed a. class of their own for the purpose of studying the Scriptures, and expounding the same to the best of


THE POOR WIDOW'S OFFERING.

their ability. They met after their day's labor was ended in some retired spot, frequently in the cemetery outside of town; and therc among the tombs with a lantern they would read, study, and expound the word of God; always· mingling prayer with their exercises. After awhile others joined them, then they became a little bolder, and got the use of a friend's lwuse for the purpose. Their meetings were carried on with intellectual profit. Jack also employed hil.llself dtll'ing spare evenings in visiting the aged and infirm, reading and expounding as best he knew Holy Scriptures to them. He was always a welcome visitor, amI many an aged grandmother has blest little Jack for his kindlv efforts. Sometimes he would meet an entire unbeliever. Jack gave him the best he had got, and never claimed to be "wiser than is written." All this time Jack was being educated, and he saw something of the dark side of what is caUed "religion." Before this, as a Sabbath scholar he had heard so much prelwhing and praying about the poor, benig'hted heathen, that he thought he would do something towards sending the gospel to them; so he armed himself with a missionarv box and went from house to house of an" to collect money for that purpose.. But little Jack was surprised and grieved to find that those who

the longest and preached the loud€st about the "poor perishing heathen" gave the least; in fact, many would refuse to aid in the good work. .T ack's quick eye saw the inconsistency, and was not long in concluding that there were "whited sepulchres"then, as well as in Ohrist's

Are there any now in the latter day church? I hope' not, but I read that "the net of everv kind."

But we must rEturn to Jack in the Baptist church. His brother had become· a Methodist, and one evening this brother told him of a strange, fanatical called Latter Day Saints· or Mormons, who believed in a book calleel "the Book of Mormon," or "stick of Joseph;" and he told of the good time some of the young Methodist members were having in opposing and disturbing their meetings. ·This was the first .Jack had heard of the strange people, and he told his brother he would go and hear them. His brother tried to dissuade him from this, telling him they were deceivers, and a cunning, crafty

people. Jack replied, boy like, that he could take care of himself, In a short time, one Sunday afternoon, he went to the Town Hall where they were holding forth. The congregation was smalL There were two ministers to conduct the serviees. They seemed to be plain, working men, but quite conversant with the SOI'iptures. Jack fol~owed them critically, as they expounded their doctrines. It seemed to be in perfect harmony with the Bible, until the preaeher declared that "the Baptists had no authority to baptize." This was too much; Jack seized his hat and abruptly left the room, and did not visit them again for a year.

During this time div.fsions of sentiment had crept into the church which culminated in division of the congregation, and hard and unkind speeches were indulged in on both sides. This rather cooled Jaek's ardor, and filled him with surprise. He could not understand how Ohrist's chureh eould become divided on points of doctrine, and much less, how God's people eouId to slander and

each other over religion. His attendance at the Baptist church became less freq uent. He wEint to hear the Oatholics, but could not accept their views. He heard the various shades of Methodism, but was not attracted by any of them. There was 80 much division among the\ churches that Jack lost faith in them all. It came to his mind to go and hear the Latter Day Saints again, and in about one year from the time that he first heard them he entered the same Town Hall; but this time there was a large audience. They were commerilOrating the death of our Lord and Savior J eSllS Ohrist, by partaking of the emblems of his body and blood. The order of the meeting was solemn and impressive; and at the~ close of this ceremony, they commenced to bear testimonv to the truth and divinitv of the work of God in t.he last days, as the'y called it; and to .J aek's astonishment, numbers arose and spoke in different languages, and ot,hers arose and delivered propheeies in the name of the Lord, while many arose and bore verv earnest testimonies to the Book of J~:forinon and the divinitv of the calling of J 08eph but all ,~as done in order. There was no confusion as he had seen in other ehnrches, and Jack's mind was impressed-especially with the speaking tongues. It seemed


THB POOR WIDOW'S OFFERING. 55"f

so strange, yet he knew it was promised by Christ, and taught by the apostles as one of the of the Spirit of God. He had never met a people that enjoyed those gifts, or even believed in them; yet here was a people, despised of all men, pronounced impostors, and against whom every evil thing was spoken, yet who to all appearance were enjoying the very gifts promised by the Savior of the world. Jack had heard the Methodists rending the very heavens with their prayers for a Pentecostal shower, and had never seen one descend; but here, this despised people seemed to be in the very midst of one. Yet a calm and holy feeling pervaded, or seemed to pervade tbe meeting. '1'he impression made upon Jack's mind led him to make enquiries there and then, as soon as the meeting was dismissed; but he elicited very little information. The reason probably was, because they were a perseeuted people, and when anyone undertook to question them upon their doctrine, it, was with a view to h()ld them up to ridicule, and arouse the masses against them; hence, they viewed with suspicion anyone who questioned them, and Jack's questions were met in that spirit. Hence his desire for information was not encouraged. But nothing daunted, Jack went again at night to a preaching meeting; Jaek took out his pencil and paper to take notes. The young man who arose to preach had never preached before, and when he saw Jack sitting before him with his book and pencil taking notes, his courage failed him and he sat down. An elderly gentleman took his place who was not afraid of Jack's book and pencil. He was a fluent speaker, and evidently aequainted with the Bible, and thoroughly informed upon the subject he was treating. Jack became so interested that he forgot his notes; and all his powers seemed absorbed in following the speaker. Jack did not doubt the scripturalness of the doctrine he preached, for he had read it time ~md again, but he saw it in a new light; and when be returned to his place, he was satisfied that whatever the real character of the Latter Saints might be, their cloetl'ine,' so far as he had heara, \vas scriptural; and when he heard their doctrine assailed he defended, ana that to the discomfiture of its opposers. But Jack's hour had not yet come. He stood aloof from all churches, and never enter-

ed a cOllgregatiol1 of IJatter Dav Saints, ~gain for 'ove~' a year. And that year was a slippery time for Jaek's feet. spirituallyspeaking. It seemed as thongh the powers of darkness assailed him in every weak point of his character and being; and to Jack's shame it must be said, not. without some success. He was now in his twenty-first year; he had endured. nearly eight years of jeers and taunts on account of his religious tendencies, had' withstood the terrible examples of profanity and drunkenness;bllt now it seemed as though the demon of profanity had taken control of his tOllgue, and at the' least insult, jeer or abuse, he would ful~ mill ate the most terrible oaths, until his; persecutors quailed in his presence. One' of these men, a wicked swearer himself, told the mistress that "since Jack had' taken to swearing it made him tremble at' his terrible ntterances."

Yet the loving kindness of the Lord' was manifest on his behalf; the divine in-· fluence of the Spirit was felt by him, and it was evident that the power of darkness was not the only influence that was seek-

to guide the youthful feet of the erring' bov: for whenever Jack had allowed himsel'( to be the victim of this evil power" he was filled with remorse and sorrow, and would ask himself in his lonely moments, "Shall I never be able to control' myself?" "Shall these feet be always swift in iniquity?" "Shall this tongue always speak evil?" Then a gleam of hope would enter his soul, alld an answer' as from the depths within, "Yes; the time will come when I shall be a man, when r shall control my tongue, and keep my feetin the path of right." Thus the struggle went on until one da,y, the :wenty-fifth

of July, 1847. Jaek's bondage came to an end, and he walked into the house to her, who, for over years had looked upon him as her apprentice many instances, only another name for slave), and told her he was twenty-one; and he' gathered what few clothes he had, and bade her good bye forever. And now Jack was in the eyes of the law a man; hut in reality he was but a lonely, friendless boy. And although he rejoiced in bis freedom, yet he felt lost in the great world alone,' with no j~ its ways and workings, with a very limited knowledge of men and things, and not a penny in his pocket; but he was fre.e!'


'558 AUTUMN LEAVES FROM TREE 0Jj' POETRY.

He conclnded he would make a visit to his mother, from whose anus he was tak€n at ten weeks old, and 'whom he had only occasionally visited during nearly twenty-one years. She received her boy wi-th open arms; he procured work in the

IN ~rY SCHOOLROOlYf.

Eager faccs shining With the rooming light,

Rosy little fingers Folded-close and tight.

Brown hail', soft and silky, Shining golden curls,

RestlE!ss heads close "haven, Teeth like rows of pearls.

Faces brown and dimpled, Face" fair and sweet,

Red lips, fresh as rose-buds, Noisy little feet.

Rosy flower faces turned to mine,

Blue and brown and gray eyes, How they dance and shine!

Still and and glowing, 'Vaiting for my speech,

Oh, what is the wisdom That I have to teach?

~Who am I to lead them Up the way?

I who faint and falter, Stumbling every day.

{)lear eyes, bright and gazing Into things divine;

Loving young hearts waiting For each word of mine.

And I tremble, fearing Lest Bome word I say

Grieve the tender Marthe lives alway.

'Thou who lovest the children, Once Thyself a child,

,Gentle, strong, and tender, Pure, and undefiled,

neighborhood at blacksmithing, ~md boarded wHh his mother. The kind providence that had watched over him all his life opened his way for him and enabled him to provide things necessary, and now he rejoiced in his freedom.

!"flo be continued.

Smooth the path of knowledge For the little feet;

:Make the ways of wisdom Beautiful and sweet.

Teach me, oh, I pray Thee, Guide me all the way; ~J''''U''CH me to lead them

day. Mary E. Hoyt.

A WOMAN'S QUBSTlON.

Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing

:Ever made by the Hand above-A woman's heart., and a woman's life,

And a woman's wonderful love?

Do you know you have asked for this priceless

As a child might ask for a toy? Demanding what others have died to win,

With a reckless dash of a boy.

You have written my lesson of duty out, Man-like you have questioned me;

Now stand at the bar of my woman's soul UJltil I shall question thee.

Yon require your mutton shall always be hot, Your socks and your shirt shall be whole;

I require your heart shall be true as God's stars,

As pnre as his heaven your soul.

Yon require a cook for your mutton and beef; I require a far hetter thing;

A seamstress you're wanting for stockings and shirts-

I look for a man and a king.


AUTU1YIN LEAVBJS FROM 'l'REHl OF POETRY. 559

.A. for the beautiful realm called Home, And a man that the maker, God,

Shall look upon as he did the first, And say, "It is very good."

I am fair and young; but the rose will fide From my Raft:, young cheek one day;

1Vill you love me then, 'mid the falling leaves, As you did 'mid the bloom of lVIa,y?

Is yom heart an ocean so strong and deep :1 may launch my all on its tide?

A woman finds heaven or hell On the day she is made a bride.

I require all things that are graml and true, All that a man should be;

If you gi ve this all, I vvould stake my life To be all you demand of me.

If you can not do this, laundress and cook You can hire with little to pay;

]3ut a woman's heart and a woman's life Are not to be won that way.

Elizabeth B. Browning,

HOW MY SHIP CA.:l\iE 11'.

I was alone in the firelight In the old room quiet and dim;

Dreaming' and a future bright, When my Ship should come in.

"Vhen Iloisely hummed the bright kettle And the so faithful and true,

Beside me was sleeping, in a little I fell too.

There upon a sea golden-For the fire had become a sea,

There came a Ship quaint and olden Bringing a treasure to me.

The ship was manned by wee Brownie, And one who was dainty and sweet,

Brought me a box and laid it Low at my feet.

And his voice was like the sweet music The burn makes down by the Lea.

And he said-"Y ou must choose first What your treasure shall be.

"You may choose whatever you like, dear, Be it riches, 01' love, or fame.

Be it health, or wealth, or wisdom That will bring you a labiing name."

.And then I was troubled and silent, For how could I choose what. was best,

And so I thought for a moment And looked at my guest.

He was murmuring a song very softly, As he looked with much intent

Into the fire, and the words were-"A spirit of sweet content."

I awoke with a start and my Brownie, J\fy Ship, and my treasures were fled,

And left me only the And the words that Brownie had said.

~~nd the words the Brownie was singing, Was the treasure he left with me.

That he brought in the ship quaint and olden Over the sea.

M. C. Burr, in Good Housekeeping.

NOT AS I WILT,.

Blindfolded and alone I stand 'Vith unknown thresholds on each hand; The darkness as I grope, Afraid to fear, afrain to Yet this one thing I learn to know Each day more surely as I go, That doors are opened, ways are ma<;le, Burdens are lifted or are laid By some great law, unseen and still, Unfathomed purpose to fulfill,

"Not as I will."

Blindfolded and alone I wait, Loss seems too bitter, gain too late; Too heavy burdens in the load, And too few helpers on the road; And joy is weak and grief is strong, And years and days so long, so long; Yet this one thing I learn to know Each day more snrely as I go, That I am the good and ill By changeless I" \ve are ordered still,

"Not as I will."

"Not as I will:" the sound grows sweet Each time my lips the words repeat, "Not a13 I will," the daTkness feels :lY10re safe than light when this thought steals, Like whispered voice, to calm and bless An nnrest and all loneliness, "Not as I will," becanse the One 1Vho loved us :first and best has gone Before us on the road, and still For us mast all His love fnlfill-

"Not as we will." Helen Hunt Jackson.


WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO-DAY?

BY COR~ELIUS A. BUTTERWORTH.

DEAR young brethren, what are you doing to-day? Have you seriously and

conscientiously contemplated the duty that devolves upon those who have coven-anted at the water's to keep the law of God and to do all is withIn their power, with the aid and assistance of God's Spirit, to forward on the and glorious cause of bringing humanity to a knowledge of the truth as it is in Christ Jesus? It seems to me to be a very easy task to ' comply with what most religious teachers tell us to do; that is, Simply believe, and when your departure shall come you will be wafted away to some unknown region to bask in the presence of angels and sing songs of praise forever more. But, when we go to God and inquire of Him, we are soon made aware of the fact that there is a great work to be accomplished, and that He requires men to perform that work.

Let vour minds flash over the vast multitudes' of earth to whom this gospel of the kingclom must be preached before the coming of the Messiah, then ask yoarself the question, Who is going to promulgate the gospel? We know that those valiant soldiers who have held high the banner of Christ as reVealed through the prophet in the latter days, are now with t.heir silver locks nearing the grave. They have, as Paul said, fought the good fight, finished their course, and are ready to lay down their bodies until the morn of the first resurrection, when will arise to reign with Christ a years. This work then, will fall upon the young of the altogether upon the young men, for there are the sisters who are generally good talkers, and who have donB an untold amount of good in the past, and are to accomplish morc; but the of the gospel abroad in the land done by the men of the church, •

How then shall we prepare ours~lves, for the great work? By coming before Him as little ehildren and asking for knowledge and wisdom, that we may unders'tand how to conduct ourselves so as tofil1d favor in His sight, and by holding ourselves ready and willing to perform any work which God may intrust as with, God has made manifest by his Spirit. time after time, that all were called to work; and if we will cease from all worldly frivolities and things that entiee to do evil, He will surely put us to work, for t.he harvest is and the laborers are but few, Let us pray therefore, that the Lord will send more laborers into his vineyard, that the wheat may speedily ,be gathered out from among the tares, before that notable day of the Lord come,

Thoughts nor words ean express the joy and consolation there is in him who created us, and gave us onr own free to do good unto the of our in the celestial glory, or evil unto our own condemnation. In the hours of sorrow, trials; and disappointment, when we are almost ready to up in despair, we can come before who is worthy of our adoration, and receive succor and relief, which will at times cause the tears of joy to gush forth; and that heavenly feeling which God alone can give, will linger near for hours' and hours.

Our time is but short in this life, and if we are desirous of meeting those shin

faces who have gone before us, we must work while it is called to-day, for the night cometh when no man can WOl'k,

The years are flpeting fast And the summer's nearly past, When the king from off the throne Will come to daim his own; And those who've faithful been Will siIrely enter in, To partake of the supper oftlle Lamb.

THE best friends of the working and of all will advise them to look not to polit-ical changes or government influence, or any outside help, but to their own frugality and temperance. Let them shun whiskey, rum and tobacco. Let them be and economi-cal, and they will do more for themselves than all the resolutions, and and tarms, and policies in the brains of all the agitators in America.


WIDO\¥ RAY'S CHRISTMAS.

mHE sun was low in the west J l' and his beams fell with little force or power upon the frozen earth. From the branches of the trees hung pendant icicles, a,nd the ground was eovered with snow, while the keen frosty air was filled with the sound of many tinkling bells, as sleigh after sleigh passed swiftly by, drawn by spirited horses, and filled with gaily dressed people, all aglow with the excitement of enjoying the first sleigh ride of the season. Merrv voiees and

, mingled with the music of and all to the casual observer

seemed a dream of joy or a festive day.

Bv a window overlooking the street stood a slender young girl absently regarding the gay scene, and yet with a lingering look of expectation in her as if waiting the coming of some one; while she stood there a woman and ohild opened the gate, crossing the tiny rang the bell for admittance, and were soon in the room with her.

The little girl ran quickly to hel- for help in getting her hood wraps un-fastened, while the woman drew a rocker in front of the grate, and leaning back placed her feet on the fender and sat for some time with he1' gaze abiScntly fixed upon the burning coals without or even seeming to notice the nr'BSElIHlB

anyone. Once the young glanced at her; but noticing her preoccupied look, she her attention to the animated de

which the little one was her all the pretty things she seen in the and the gay clecol'ations were everywhere making for Christmas.

"Oh, its just Mary," she said, "and I do wish you with us. Such pretty dolls all in silk and velvet, and the nicest little trunks just big enough to hold dolly's and carriages large enough for her to ride in. How I wish Santa Claus would bring me one !"

"Perhaps he will, said Mary; "did you go any place to the stores?"

"Yes," said Fay, a look of sadness steal-ing over her bright "we went to Mrs. Ray'S, and oh, they are so poor, and Mrs. Ray is some terrible

trouble. She told mamma all about it, and when I saw her little girls so poorly dressed, and scarcely fire enough to keep them warm, I forgot all about the pretty things and wished only that Santa Claus would bring her money to her out of her trouble. Don't you so, .Mary?"

"Yes, Fay, but perhaps money could not help her."

"Oh, ves it could; couldn't it mamma?" sa,id littie Fay, appealing to her motber, who now turned to where the two were

and began her bonnet strings and pulling

"Are you speaking she said slowly.

mamma; and I was telling Mary that I hope Santa Claus will take her a lot of money, for she told you that she needed some. didn't she?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Arnold, "she is needing money badly, and I have been thinking if it would be possible for me to spare a few dollars to help bnt I have so many demands upon my purse that I do not see how I can."

"What is troubling her, Mrs. Arnold?" said Mary.

"Whe;;' her husband died she was com-pelled to put a on her place, in order to settle for expenses, and since then she has been sickso much herself that she has never been able to pay it off; and it is now overdue, and she has been notified that it must he paid or the property will he sold and she will be turned into the street with her two little children."

"Could anyone be so crnel as that?" said JYIary, a flush rising to her face and a spark of indignation lighting her dark eyes.

"It does not seem cruel to them," said Mrs. Arnold. "They look upon it as a matter of business which must be attended to; and as they furnished her money when she needed it, they now want it returned. It will be very harclfor and I wish I was able to help her."

dear Mrs. Arnold, has she no rel-no friends who could her if

they of her need." "No, Mary, she has not a relative in the

world, and her husband's people disowned


562 I!WIDOW RAY'S CHRISTMAS.

him because they were displeased with him for marrying her, and they never came near him in his last sickness, not even when he was dead. I think if she had the least hope that they would help her now she would go on her knees to them for the sake of her helpless babes, though I am sure she would starve befOl'e she would even take a crumb from their bounty for herself."

"How ean the hearts of people grow so hard?" said Mary. "Do you remember, dear iYIrs. Arnold, that it will soon be a year now since you eame to my help, and stood between me and such a great trouble?"

"Do not mention that, :Mary, it ,vas only an act of justice upon my part, for which the Lord has rewarded me a hundred fold;" and Mrs. Arnold bent her mild dark eyes npon the face of the young girl as she sat by the window stroking the golden brown locks of little Fay, who was sitting on a low stool and leaning her head upon Mary's lap.

"I can never forget it," said the young girl, as a tear stole down her cheek and a tremor came to her voice. "I was a stranger, and if it had not been for your kindness, how different it might have been with me to-dav. I do wonder if it would not be possible for nie to repay some measure of your kindness by doing sometlJing to help your friend?"

"I do not see what either of us can do fOl' her only to pray that God will send some one to help her," said Mrs. Arnold.

"Surely there are many people in the world whose hearts are tender and who would be willing to help her."

"Yes, I have no doubt there are, but how can we reach them?"

"Y ou are well known in St. Louis, not only because it has been your home for many years, but because of your position as a teacher. State the facts very briefly 011 paper, and I will go among the merchants and friends of your school and see if I can not raise the monev."

"Will you have the cour~ge to do this, Marv?"

"Yes, I will do it willingly, and I believe that I will raise the money. How muoh is it?"

"Over one hundred dollars." "To-morrow is Satunlay, and if you

consent to my doing this I will start out early in the moming."

"It is a great undertaking for you, Mary. Do you feel quite sure that you will be equal to it?"

"Yes, I think I shall be. At all events I will try, and I believe I shall succeed."

Doubtless our readers have before this recognized in Mrs. Amold and Mary the friends whose acquaintance they made in the January number of the AUTUMN LEAVES one year ago. During the intervening time Mary had not only been assisting Mrs. Arnold in her school, but had been installed as one of the family, and with the assistance of private teachcrs was keeping up her studies. But as our story I'elates to Mrs. Ray, while Mary is busy in thought about her project of the morrow, let us look in at her cottage home and see how she is occupied.

The short evening twilight was already closing in, and long shadows lay across the floor of Mrs. Ray's sitting room, which the few lumps of coal burning in the grate only seemed to make darker by their fiichring light. Sitting in a low rocker, with a faded shawl drawn closely about her to protect her from the cold, she held in her arms a little girl some three years old, while another one apparently some two years older stood by the window watching the sleighs go by, ever and anon making some childish remark to her mother or asking some question, which not being answered, she seemed to forget in her occupation. Suddenly, however, she left the window, and coming over to where her mother was sitting, held her little hands toward the burning coals to warm them.

"Nellie must stav here bv the fire," said Mrs. Ray; "it is' too cold back by the windows."

"I like to see the folks," sa,id Nellie, "and I want to see Santa Claus come. Isn't he coming to-night, mamma?"

"Not to-night, Nellie, but next }'[onday night perhaps he will be here;" but even as she said this she turned her face away from the child, for she felt that young as N eHie was, she would read the hopelessness stamped thereon.

"Mamma, I'm hungry," said Nellie, as she crept closer to her mother. "Please put little Lucy down and give Nellie her supper." ,

"Yes, dear," answered the mother, still keeping her face turned away from the little one as she rose to lay her sleeping


WIDOW RATS CHRISTMAS. 563

child in the crib, ror the tears which she could no longer keep back rplled down her pale cheeks, and it was impossible for her to control the torrent of grief which shook her frame. Tucking the clothes closely arollnd the little sleaper she went to the cupboard, and putting a slice of bread in a cup of mllk, she brought it to N eHie; and aftel' it was eaten, took her upon her lap and prepared her for bed.

The children were now asleep; and :Mrs. Ray pale, worn and weary, drew her chair very near to the fire. and gave herself up to thought. She had striven long and hard to keep the wolf from the door. Early and late she had toiled, and when too ill to sit up had worked while bolstered up in bed. Perhaps she was in a measure responsible for her long continued illness, for had she her weary body longer tim(il for rest, she might have gained strength sooner; but the distress of mind seemed to force the body to action, and strength came very slowly. She ha,d been able to keep her children comfortably clothed and fed until now, and her hope had been that when once her health was restored, she would be able to payoff the mortgage on her little property, and then all cause of anxiety would cease. But now, the day after· Christmas she would be compelled to seek another shelter; but whhout friends or money, where was this shelter to be found.

No lamp was lit that night; but long she sat there in silence and darkness, striving to bend her thoughts to some solution of the dark problem. The coals ceased to give out any light, smoldered, and finally went out. The pale rays of a cold moon found their way across the floor, but with bowed head she still thought on. Her hands grew numb with cold; but she did not £e",1 it, for she was wrestling alone with the grim specter of want-not want only, but destitution; and but for her little ones, death would have been welcome.

Aroused at last by the cold, she threw herself upon her k;lees by the bedside. Too weary with her struggles and grief to find words in which to offer up her petition, she could only sob out the unspoken agony of her soul before the God in whom she trusted. Without a word, a syllable of pmyer, she arose from her knees comforted. Light had not dawned, she knew no more than her ore what she

should do, but there was trust and peace at last; and seeking her pillow she clasped her sleeping babe to her bosom, and held its innocent head pillowed upon her heart as pledge that God would never forsake her. ~ ot much earlier than the hour in which

Mrs. Ray found rest in sleep, was the one in which Mal'v Willard closed her eves in dreams. The" thought of that whi~h she had volunteered to undertake on the morrow effectu~Jly banished slumber, and many times her heart misgave her as to whether she would be able to carry it through successfully. It never entered her mind to abandon it; but nevertheless, many a misgiving lest she shon Id fail caused her topl'ay earnestly to God that he would go before her and open the hearts of the people. 'With the first light of day she was astir; and herself with espeeial care, she joined family in the sitting room,. where prayer was always offered hefQre the morning meal. As Mrs, Arnold It'd in prayer, she did not forget Mary'S errand, but prayed ea1'l1estly that the of His presence might go l)efore her and grant her success in her undertaking.

After br~akfast Mary prepared for an early start, and was glad when Fay asked to be permitted to go with her. The way wouk! not seem 80 long and cheerless even with a child for company. She had learned that :Mr, Ray had been an ollieer of one of the :Mississ'ippi river steamboats, and had resolved that if not successful among the merchants she would go to the levee, where the boats landed, and try tllere,

V\T e will not follow them in their morning journey, first into one store and then another until all the stores on Broad way as well as Fourth and Fifth streets had been visited, but will meet them as they return home and learn the result of their morning's work.

}\<Iany times during the morning, as the l)Ou1's wore on from eight to twelve, had Mrs. A1'l1old's thoughts wandered from her work to the absent members of her family, and her heart had each time breathed a fervent prayer fm their success. Thev would return at noon whether succe8~£ul or not, and as the time drew near she found herself standing by the window watching eagerly for their coming. She had not long to wait before


564 EDITOR'S CORNER.

she saw Mary with Fay holding to her hand coming towards home with elastic steps. There is much in the very walk of an individual to denote the emotions of the mind, if not indeed the deeper feelings of the heart, and Mrs. Arnold felt sure that their rapid elastic steps' did not betoken disappointment. She did not wait for them to ring, but stepping into the hall opened the front door just as they came up the steps, and together they entered the sitting room.

"Oh, mamma," said Fay, "you don't kno~ how much money we have got---.-sueh a lot of haven't we, "

Mrs. Arnold was too absorbed to notice the credit was taking to herself for a share of the work, but to said, "Have been successful

"Oh, yes," said her eyes bright &nd her cheeks aglow with excitement. "Dear Mrs. Arnold, I have more than oenough to the debt."

"Can it possible? Oh, how thank-ful I am~" and unable to longer restrain her feelings, she took Mary in her arms, while tears of joy bathed her cheek".

As soon as Mary was a little composed she said, "Don't forget that little Fay is entitled to her share of thanks. She gave me new courage every moment by her bright eyes and sympathizing looks."

"I will not forget my little ,daughter," said lVII's. Arnold as she drew her close to her neither will anv of us to God the giver of ~very good and perfect and kneeling down then and

WE find it almost impossible to realize that this is the last number of the first volume of AUTmIN LEAVES. Silently they have fallen, one by one, until the last one has dropped from the cycle of 1888 and been gathered into households near and far. We feel no sadness in good-bye to you for the year which wil1soon be past, for we confidently expect, the Lord willing, to meet you again in the coming year, and through the lVIagazine bring to you many treasures of thought, knowledge, and wisdom. This, however, is not all that we desire. As the Magazine was established for the purpose

there, Mrs. Arnold returned thanks for the favor He had been pleased to show them.

Our story is told, for we doubt not there is not one of our young friends who

,can not picture to themselves the utter astonishment felt by }III'S. Ray when that afternoon a long list of names together with nearly one hundred and fifty dollars, was put into her hand Arnold. Mary and Fay were also as Mrs. Ar-nold would notgo without Mary, b'Ut,ather earnest entreaty had consent,ed not to say anything in reference to who had collected the money. Mrs. Arnold had added a basket filled with the substantials for a Chl'istmlts dinner, which she had spent the in preparing.

We can not deseribe the and do not know that we would if we the abilitv. for there are emotions of the heart too s'~~,red to be intruded upon. When Christmas morning dawned we doubt if a happier home could have been found in all the than the cottage of widow Rav. Joy a wonderful elixir, a tonic beyond the power of the best physicians to prescribe, and soon, with restored health, she was able to maintain herself and little ones in comfort, and in her property being in demand for business locations brought hei' a sum which placed her beyond the reach of want or the possible recurrence of circumstances so trying.

"Care and trial seem at last, Through sunset air, Like ranges overpast, In purple fair."

of usefulness, we desire to extend its and as it was and is especially for the Y01l11g of the church, it would be very gratifying to have the aid of the young in this. As we pen these words, we are wondering how many of our young friends will them, and act upon the If everyone who reads would secnre one new subscriber, we believe that our list would soon be doubled. Who of you will try? We ask of each one who reads it aud really des.ires its continuance, to aid us in this way.

Many last year were disappointed in not be-


PATTIE; OR, LEAVES FROM A~LIFE .. 565

ing able to obtain the first numbers, and the same will happen again this year, unless our. subscribers are prompt in up their minds, and either sending in their money or notifying the office of their intention to do so. lt is not our wish to deprive anyone of the Magazine who really desire to have it. The facts in the case are; that owing to a limited sUbscription list, the margin of profit is too small to justify us in getting out a large number over what are disposed of. We trust the time will come when they may be scattered far and wide, and as plentiful as the autumn leaves of the forest; but that time is not yet, and we therefore ask our friends to be thoughtful for us in this respect.

. BY DECEMBER 10TH AT THE VERY Lll.TEST, we must know how large an edition will be needed to meet the demand, and to those whose time expires with 1888 we shall not mail the January nmnber unless upon renewal or requ¢;. Please remember the initials

R. R.

as well as what stand for, as it will be a great saving of time and expense to the office. Our subscribers will bear in mind tha.t we pay the full price of mailing this year, CO:rJ,

sequently there will be no a.dvance in price to them. We will be very thankful to brethren Smith, Wight, and Butterfield to act as our agents in Austmlia, and notify the office wher-e they wish their copies sent.

WE regret that so many articles have be-en crowded out to give place to Christmas matter, but it was unavoidable. Besides these, we have much choice original matter waiting room in our crowded columns. For this reason we trust our friends will bear with us when we announce that for a few numbers, at least, we will omit "With the Church in an Early Day."

SEND all moneys, all notification of changes, or missing numbers, to David Dancer, box 82, Lamoni,Iowa.

PATTIE; OR, LEAVES FROM A LIFE.

BY ELEA::<TOR.

"But dost thou know, That on thy life much thought is spent in

heaven?" Jecm Ingelow. mHE history of a life that begins simply J l' with the birth of the individual, must necessarily fail of the reader a clear comprehension character portrayed, since all effect points to cause. We do not know the mind of God; we can not search the record above to find what were the thoughts of heaven in determining the lot of Pattie; yet, if we oan trlwe back for a few generations the current of her life as it flowed in the veins of her anoestors, we may be helped to a bet,ter understanding of the, forces at work in molding the life and character from whioh we would draw these lesson leaves. 80, though our Pattie was born and lived

us, we are going baok several centuries trace all the way which "the Lord God led her," just as the story of the world's oreation begins while the earth was yet "without form and void," ere the cur-

tains of darkness had rolled back, revealing the new creation of life and light and beauty, fresh and sweet from the hands of its Creator.

Almost four hurdred years ago there was an event known since in history as the Reformation. It was as a light shining out on a scene of moral, religious and political chaos;. but its rays only served to make the extreme of the surrounding darkness more

"As jileids o'licht, far seen by nieht, Mak the near mirlr but mirker still."

That light which beamed on Luther and his co-laborers was pre-eminently "a light shining in a dark place." But, alas! the

itself, was darkness, being destitute spirit of revelation by which alone

it is possihle to know God. Regarding it through the aid of present light we see no chaos, but recognize the hand of God work-

out the thought of his mind as truly in those great national movements as in the work of creation. He had only said,


566 PATTIE; OR, LEAVES FROM A LIFE.

"Let there be light." Not, indeed, the true light of the gospel, but the spirit of inquiry that should make men feel after him, and lead to the peopling of the new world to which should come the angel with the restored gospel in all its fullness.

Standing in the blaze of this later light, revealed to Joseph Smith, and examining the work of Martin Luther, we are able to comprehend the force of the Savior's words: "If, therefore, the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness." We will also clearly see that the work of the one, was preparatory of the other, as the dawn to sunrise; but before the dawn there had been a long night of rayless darkness, which, when we comprehend its cause, will also reveal the meaning of of Mary's prophetic song, "He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.'"

The son of Marv said: "He that believeth on me, thoughhe were dead, yet shall belive." This faith in Christ was the foundation of the seven principles of his gospel, without which all the rest are inoperative. Satan well knew, that to defeat the redemption of our race he must destroy this fundamental do.ctrine; and he thought he had triumphed when the church accepted that proposition which had been spurned by Christ her Lord: "All the 1cingdoms of the world will J gi?)e thee. and the glory oj thern ~f thou wilt fnll down and worl<hip rne. The dazzled church vielded her allegiance, and soon, with her throne at Rome, she became mistress of the world. All this would have availed nothing so long as the people believed in Christ; it was not the church as a body that had made this transfer, but their leaders and the teachers who sat in the seats of the apostles. The people believed that these leaders had authority from Christ, which was true; and this very truth was used to mislead the people, 'in aiming the first blow at the doctrine of faith in Christ for forgiveness of sin. They were told that Christ had given the keys to Peter, who transmitted them to his SUCCCRsor in office, 'who stood in Christ's st.ead on the earth; and through him. or those ordained th1'ouO'11 'l1im, now existed the power to 0 sin a~d ab-solve the flinner. step by step, they changed the ordinances. Sprinkling was substituted for baptism. Laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost {leased to be practiced; but that could be

of no consequence, for the Holy Spirit had long before taken his departure. The gifts being only promised to the believers, ceased when faith; did. The principle of the resurrection became so mystified and obscured that it oeased to be remembered. Eternal Judgment, the churoh took into her own hands; and while pretending to fulfill Scripture, to bind or loose, she killed or imprisoned those who yet retained enough knowledge of the true gospel system to oppose her. The Bible having been taken away and forbidden to be read by the common people, all knowledge of the truth faded from their minds.

Thus in darkness had the Sun of righteousness set, as it seemed, to rise no more; but the wicked church said, "1 sit a queen, and am no widow." -Rev. 18: 7.

This was the situation at the birth of Martin Luther; but it is not the history oftbe reformer that we propose to review, only the bearing whioh his work had upon this latter day work, as well as upon the subject of our story.

I~uther was born of bumble parentage, like most of the instruments whom God selects to do his work. He was profoundly ignorant of the grand scheme of redemption through Christ, though he was a learned scholar, and had taken a degree and become a teacher in the University wben but twenty years of age. His father destined him for the law; but it is related that being frightened in a severe thunder storm, he made a vow that if God would spare his life he would give himself to the service of the church. In fulfillment of this, he became a monk in the order of St. Augustine. After two years he was ordained a priest; and about a year later he aocepted a professorship in the University of \Vittel1burg, which afterwards became the cradle of the reformation. day at one o'clock Luther gave a lecturE on the Bible. One day during his lecture he was reading the seoond ohapter of the prophet Habakkuk, when coming to the fourth verse he read this declaration: "The Just shall live hv faith." This so interested him that he p~used in his lecture to reflect. There was, then, a life which is the gift of faith. He did not understand this; it was something of which he had never heard. He studied the subject in the of his celli but not then did the mvsteries of this life of faith open to him. •


PATTIE; OR, LEAYES FROM A LIFE. 56'1

Years afterward he was far away from Germany; under the burning skies ·of Italy, sick, ashe thought, unto death, and the thought filled him with terror. In the mid 8t of his distress the seventeenth verse of the first chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, wherein is reiterated the statement made by the prophet, "The just shall live by faith," recurred to his mind. 1 .. uther felt cheered and comforted, thongh he was yet far from realizing the nature of the faifh that had in it this life-giving power.

He recovered, and proceeding to Rome he set himself diligently to the performance of meritorious works, which were the vain observances instituted by the church for the expiation of sin, and called penance. This took the place of that principle of repentance taught by the Savior and his l)opostles. When the church eeased to teach faith in Christ, she told the people to look to her for pardon through penitential works. Those works of penance were foolish and absurd; but the ignorant people considered the voice of the Pope as the voice of God, and submittecl to all the mortification of the flesh demanded: s11ch as going bare footed, going without clothes and without food for a specified time, taking a pilgrimage to the shrine of some saint, scourging one's self, etc.

After a time the people fonnd it easier to do those works than to abandon vice, as taught by the Savior to do. But the tasks imposed on them grew more and more burdensome, until the people grew weary and desired deliverance. Then the priests saw a chance to fill the coffers of the church and also prevent a revolt. So they said: "We will take those burdens 011

ourselves; we will do the works and. you shall pay us for doing them and have'the merit of the penance." 'fhis was easier yet, and the people flocked to Rome to buy ind.ulgences, as they were c,alled. Murder, adultery, perjury, and every crime and sin had price it, by the payment of which the criminal escaped the penalty of his and this absolution was made to apply both to this life and the or to either alone, at the will of the priest.

It is evidence of the intense spiritual darkness of the times and of Luther's mind. that an educated man who had read the Bible could for a moment believe

such a revolting dogma. Luther not only believed, but performed all, and piously wished that his parents were not living, that he might have the pleasure of delivering them from purgatory by his meritorious works.

One day, wishing to obtain an indulgence promised by the Pope to all who should ascend on their knees Pilate's staircase, (which they were assured had been miraculously transported from Jerusalem to Rome), while painfully dragging himself up the steps he thought he heard a voice like thunder sounding in his ears, and that twice before had arrested his attention: "The just shall live by faith." He paused. Suddenly there appeared to his com-1)rehension a view of that righteousness that alone can stand before God. He arose from his knees in astonishment, and fled from the place. In Luther's account of this eircumstance he says: "When by the Spirit of God I understood these words, when I learned how the justification of the sinner proceeds from the free mercy of our Lord through faith, . . .. then I felt born again, like a new man; I entered through the open door into the very Paradise of God, . . . I perused the Bible with other eyes; I brought together a great number of passages that taught me the nature of God's work."

This was the birth of the Reformation. "The light shineth in darkness and the

darknesscomprehendethitnot."~ohn 1: 5. At the birth of Christ men failed to comprehend that he was both their life and light; so neither dicl they comprehend when once more the light from God's imperishable word bel),med out on the world's darkness, because it was not accompanied by the spirit of revelation. For proof we have only to follow the history of the Reformation. We shall find that no other of the seven principles of the gospel was then restored, and even the nature of faith was not well understood.

>The greatest efforts of Luther after this were directed the sale of in-dulgences and evils of the Papacy. Bat the of inquiry hat1 been awak-

investigators were not in OA>"m"'n~ that there was much more in

the gospel faith only, without ,vorks, as Lnthertaught; but not one of the many factious that to arise when other

of doctrine weTe d.iscovered, were able to reconcile their apparent con-


588 PATTIE; OR, LEAVES FRoynA"LIFE.

flictions; not one could grasp the gospel as a whole, nor comprehend its far-reaching grandeur; hence the narrowness of the creeds, and inharmony that grew out of them: the things of the Spiritare spiritually discerned, and flesh and blood uninspired of God was inadequate to provide for the sph-it's requirements.

Without such inspiration, it is evident that neither Luther nor any others then could have authority to reorganize the church of Christ. That was a work that could not be done until God's authorized priesthood should be sent, with the gospel in its harmonious entirety. But Luther was ignorant of the promised restoration, or judged that it had taken place in his day. If he did commit errors, let him not be harshly judged by us; strange that amid such darkness he should have discovered the truc rock of faith, without which the work of Joseph Smith would have been impracticable in later days.

Though Luther and those reformers who followed him were not authorized to organize the church, they were plainly commanded to come out from "Mystery Babylon," that they be not par'takeis of her sins nor receive of her plagues. They were recognized as the people of God, chosen and faithful.-Rev. 1'7: 14. Therefore I think it was 110t wrong for them to organize their congregations; it was necessary to the preservation of the light that they had received. Their mistake was in attempting to officiate in the things of God without authority; but even that, I think, must be pardonable, since they did it ignorantly. vVe learn by Paul's disputation with the,Jews at Athens, that God had once winked at the ignorance of that people; but since he had sent to them his son and the apostles to show them the truth, he commanded them to repent. So, I think that for their mistakes the reformers will not be condemned, because they were doing the best they could with the light they had; but now, as in the days of Pan I, Goel commands all men to repent, and they to whom the light of these la,st davs haR come will be uncleI' c~:mdeml1atiOl; if they reject it or treat it lIghtly.

To retu111: From the hour that justification through faith in Christ was restored to light, th~ temporal power of the Pope began to waite; for who then would buy

his indulgences? who then wanted his: absolution? When men become spiritually free in Christ they very naturally claim temporal freedom also; so the gospel of Christ does indeed make men free. Rome knew this, and hence the fierceness of her struggle to suppress it.

The first adherents of Luther were from the upper and middle classes; his influence in the university at Wittenburg caused the truth to spread with great rapidity among the stlldents, who were, many of them, the sons of titled and influential people. Prince Philip of Hesse, then a youth of fourteen, afterward defended the cause with the sword. The Elector of Saxony, founder of the University, was a friend of Luther's and of the Reformation"

Luther's death occurred in 1546; and though persecution began simultaneously with the work of reformation, it did not reach its height until Ferdinand II. of Bohemia was crowned Emperor of Germany in 1619, and inaugurated the Thirty Y ears~ War. Then every hill top gleamed with the fires of persecution, and the beautiful Rhine drank the blood of the saints from Switzerland to the North Sea. Tenderly nurtured women forsook castle and palace, and with their lowlier sisters knew no other home than that, afforded bv fCl'rest or cave. There they sang their' hymns, offered their prayers and studied the word of God, teaching their little ones to obey its precepts. The sacrifices and heroism displayed even by the children, for the defense and preservation of that priceless truth have never since been equalled. They were "faithful. unto death" over "the few things;" shall we be as faithful over the many? We turn in siekening horror from the recital of their struggles and suffer-

to dream in complacent pride of these days of security and peace without remembering that of him to whom much is given, much will be required.

'Our hearts burn within us in indignation against the despots in church and state who could perpetrate such unholy acts ill the name of Christ: hut God can make the wrath of man to praise him;' and in this instance he made use of it to implant in the lifeblood of the children born under such cruel oppression the seeds of

and political liberty that should germinate and bear fruit in the peopling of Joseph's land with a God-fearing nation cherishing those sacred principles in order


P ATTIE; OR, LEAVES FR011 A LIFE. 669

to the accomplishment of "his act, his str.ange a~t," long foretold by Isaiah (28: 21), and by John who wrote: "I saw another angel fiy in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach to them that dwell on the earth."-Rev. 14: 6.

The terrible thirty years' civil war involved all Europe; but our story has onlv to do with G,mnany-though like caus';s produce like effects, a hatred of oppression and iniquity, austerity in life., and a strictness in training of their children that had never before, nor has since obtained. All of this ,:,as a part of Heaven's thought, for out from among all nations God was to gather a people.

Among the early converts to Luther's reform movement in Southern Germany was a familv whom we will na111e Waldville. The ~hildren of this family were born and brought up under circumstanees like those we have narrated. They suffered with their brethren throughout that period of blood and strife, often knowing no home but such retreats as for the time being offered a hiding place from the got and the sword. No wonder that sternness and austerity should characterize the children of such' training, nor that its effects should be noticed on the lives of {lhildren born centuries after. The laughter and frolic that make the period of innocent youth so sweet were unknown in the forest home of the \~laldvilles. The ?olemn hush of those who expect evil tidmgs was ever present, too often fulfilled when the messenger with blanched cheeks came to ten the~ of some fresh victim to the stake. 'l'hen would be heard echoing from hut and, cave that triumphant and prophetic song of Luther's, so often SUllO' in those times: 0

"No! No! their ashes shall not die, But born to every land;

Where e'er their sainted dust shall lie Up springs a holy bancl." ,

As often as they could safely do so, the hunted ones would come together to seek relief in prayer and to each other on the word of God, the promises of which grew more precious to them by every drop of blood consecrated to them. 'With loftiest faith they claimed the fulfillment of J eSlls' words to Marv and Martha: "He that beleiveth on me, though he were dead yet shall he live." The~ with softened and saddened hearts, but with unfalteriuO' trust they would '-"

".J ust as God leads me I would go; I would not ask to chose my way'

Content with what he will bestow, ' Assured he will not let me stray.

Just as God l\:'ads I am content· I rest me calmly in his hand~'

That which he has decreed and 'sent That whieh his will for me comm~nds

I would that he should aU fulfill, ' That I should do his gracious will

In living or in dying. Just as God leads, I all resign;

I trust me to my Father's will: Wh,;,n reason's ways deceptive shine,

Hls counsel would I yet fulfill; That which his 10\'e ordail'l.ed is sight,

Before he brought me to the li"ht. all to him re~ii'ning. '" ,

God leads me I abide; in hope, in BuffeTing true;

RT.rr",,'·rr.n is ever by my side? me firm in patience, knowing my life is still bestowing. in kindness sending. . leads, I go,

thorns briars between, yet his ~uidance show,

B"t in the end it will be seen. loving Father's will, and true, He leads me still." *

Can faith and trust mount higher than this? "Blessed are they who having not seen, yet have believed."

God did not to them his guidance show, but we can begin to trace it now in letters of

intoh\rance of Ferclinand II. at length cost him his crown; hut the work of per-secution continued by his son and suc-cessor, III. u;'til, finally, peace was restored and religious toleration granted to the Protestants. But toleration, from a Catholic point of view, simply means to let, alone what they ean not hinder. 'There was no protection guaranteed, while freedom of opinion in religious matters continued to be denounced by Papists; so that the condition of the German Prot-estants did not improve About the.year ~ 73~ large bodies of quitted theJr native land and 80uoht a home in Pennsylvania; for they h~cl heard that· vVm. Penn's Quaker government granted civil and religious liberty to all menprinciples inborn and bred in the blood of our refugees. POl' thirty years the Prot?Btants had fought for these principles m Europe, with what results we have seen; but the conflict was not yet over; it \vas to be resumed on this side of the water; and many of those who had borne arms in defense of them in the old countries


570 PATTIE; OR. LEA VI'S FROM A LIFE.

were the first to bear them again when those principles became the issue in the war of the American Revolution. Here, thank God, they were successful, as it was among God's purposes that those principles should be established on this land.

If the history of these United States had bee11 chronicled with the same faith in God shown by Moses in writing the history of his people, it would have been told how the Lord prepared the hearts of the people through persecution to willingly seek a home in the land prepared by him for their reception, just as truly as were the Israelites prepared by their hardships in Egypt to brave the dreary desert for freedom and Canaan.

In one of thORO emigrant companies that we have mentioned, were two young men, William and Philip Waldville. They settled among others of their faith, a few miles from Philadelphia-the place is now within the city. Both were men of high piety, also of patriotism. Philip was a minister, honored and beloyed, and lived to see freedom, the birthright of Americans, established. He left two sons, Maurice and Joseph, whom he edueated himself, and both of whom became able ministers of the Lutheran faith. Up to this period the family boasted of pure German descent. They had been men of scholarship, and ministers in the reform. ·With the maJ'J'iage of Maurice a new element entered the family.

Gretchen Dieman came with her parents from Holland, where she was born and brought up. Her parents were Prussians, but had lived many years in Holland. They were disciples of Calvin, and Gretchen had been trained as strietly in that faith and doctrine as had been Maurice in those of Ijuther .. They spoke the language of the North, which is quite different from High German. The latter was as ullintelligible to Gretchen as was English. I~ovc~laughs at difficulties however, and Maurice found that he could tell his love in Low German as well as in the dialect made classic bv Luther's translation of the Bible; and good Gretchen was glad to make him happy Oll condition j;hat he would always address her in her own tongue, and" not compel her to learn his -an agreement that was faithfully kept. As for her religion, ah well! they had not thought of woman's rights then; and the married woman, especially the wife of a

German, had no individuality. She was expected to identify herself wholly with her husband; it was considered his right, and her opinions were of no account. So the numerous family born to Maurice and Gretehen were christened, ·i. e., sprinkled into thlli Lutheran, instead of the Presbyterian Ohurch. Gretchen did not repine at this. It was to her a matter of course, and she never thought that it should be different; though I think she al:vays remained faithful in heart to her faIth; for after her husband's death and she was no longer bound by this law, though she was quite old, she returned to the Presbyterians', the religious faith of her youth. Industrious and patient, she toiled hard and uncomplainingly to help the poor minister to provide for their large family. The writ,er has seen the family record of this couple. It contained the names of fourteen children, written in a very neat hand in German. The twelfth name was Philip Joseph; probably named in honor of his grandfather and uncle, at any rate, he seems to have inherited all of the family predileetion for books and thirst for study. The family were all educated at the English schools of the country. Young Philip was loaked upon, in the family, as the probable successor of his father in the pulpit; he was a natural orator, and the pride of the family.

But the faithful father was called home while Philip was yet a lad; and the broken down mother was an invalid, which she continued to be for the rest of her life.

I do not know what minister's salaries were in thoBe days; but the Waldvilles were very poor, and the children went out into the world to earll their own and their mother's support, Philip with the rest. lIe was apprenticed to a trade, and served his time, taking every opportunity fO!' studv meanwhile.

While still quite young he was offered a situation a.s teacher in a school. He relinquished. this to seek a home in the great North-west Territorv. But we soon find hi ill teaching seh001 a; little south of Painesville, in Ohio. This brings us to about the veal' 1827.

We will now glance at the religious condition of the people.

It is a littIe over three hundred years since the beginning of the Reformation, and darkness again covers the earth, but its effuses· are quite different.

'r" be continued'.


D~IFUlt-WOOD.

The threads our hands in blindness spill; No self-determined plan weaves in' The shuttle of the unseen powers ' Works out a pattern not as QUl'S.-Whittkr.

CHILDREN WHO A.SK.

Mrs. Mary C. Hungerford has some wise words in Owr CffU/Yd;ry Bmne about answering the boys. Children, both and ask all manner of questions just because they are eurious and want to know. The ehild that does not ask questions muqt be lacking in intelligence, and the gist of Mrs. Hungerford's advice is that the mother should not be ashamed to candidly own her ignorance when unable to answer some puzzling query. Evasive answers are denounced on the ground that "a child's clear eyes soon see through its mother's thinly veiled pretense of being too busy or too sick, and then he has to learn that she not only is not able to the information he seeks, but stoops to deceit to cover her inability. The boy who finds out that his mother's lips can utter a W01'd that is not strictly true, is to be pitied, but his mother is more to be pitied." A suggestion foHows to theefiect that mother might get their children to help them more at the household work, and in turn all would le~m something, and an em of mutual helpfulness would eet in, I cordially commend the idea. Mothers, and fathers, too, are far too much addicted to the habit of checking the wholesome spirit of inquiry and investigation in their chHdren, which is a mark of a healthy mind. If ignorant, on any point, look it up. If possihle, let the child look it up with you. Then talk over the matter in the household, so that it may be permanently impressed on, the minds of all. All lawful questions should be encoumged.

THE MOUNTA.IN 'BROOK.

Away up among the mountains a tiny spring burst out. It trickled along almost silently at first, but it met another and another little spring, and, rolling together down the mountain side, they tumbled over a rock and spread into a dancing, singing, glistening brook.

Stillness and shadow around as yet, only a little nook wherein to play, the brook-spirit longed for more sunlight and wider scope. The breezes whispered to her of broad lakes embosomed among wooded hills-of deep, blue l'iveI'S flowing through wide meadow-lands~of

the vast OCe~ns gathering them all home at last to herself. Could she do and be nothing beyond her present life? The shadows deepened and she sang less cheerily.

A robin flew down to drink of the clear water, and then, perching on a green bough above. trilled fOTth its happy song. Squirrels and rabbits leaped along through the rustling grass to her side, and went away refreshed and glad. The merry little minnows darted to and fro in her shanow basin, happy through her; for even their life was dependent on the home and supply she gave them.

The ferns and grasses in their fresh greenery, gold-crowned cowslips and buttercups, tiny pearlflowers and blue violets bluomed beside her, giving fragrance and beanty in return for her benison of life and growth; and the sunshine threw its mantle of blessing ovel'one and all. It silvered her tiny waves more and more, as, flowing on contentedly, she bathed the roots of a young cherry tree.

And then the brOOK noted that none of these lived to themselves alone. The tree gave its fruit to the biTds, and afforded quiet, shaded resting places for their nests. The hirds brooded and fed their little ones. The rabbits and sqnirrels were busy carrying home food to their families. The elder, which bloomed beside her. gave its blossoms to make tca for a siek child, as she reamed from the talk of two little who came for them. She was restless, they said, and it would sooth her to sleep. All were busy, all contented.

The brook had learned her lesson. She l'ippled gladly on, bearing health and freshness to all she touched, knowing not how beautiful was the melody she sang, but making her way more and more out of the shadows and into the sunlight. Another and anomer brook met her on course through rolling meadows,. golden in snnshine.

Onward, ever onward, active and cheery, she flowed, bearing blessings wherever she went and reflecting the sunlight of heaven. Far back ami.d mountain solitud'es and shady woods the little brook could still be traced; but a deep, calm, broad river rolled through meadow-funds and between shores of changing scenery-fol'est, field, and hilI, and happy human homes.


fiOlJND <0ABLE. EDITED BY. SALOME.

CHRISTMAS DECORATIOKS.

Christmas stars of six points surrounded bv 'Circles; stars of eight points with tiny stars hetween the points, and a large central shield showing a text in greens; and stars composed of two overlying triangles with central cross are the appropriate stars for Ohristmastide. These may have foundations of gold or be composed entirely of greens, or greens and colored foundations. Black forms handsome stars. A figure

center circle, to the edges of which four are attached at the apex, and be-tween triangles spruce boughs, the. four boughs radiating from the circle, is very ornamental. A bow and quiver of spruce boughs is also a pretty wall decoration.

Dados are made of laurel leaves and lycopodium and spruce consists of festoons, each one of which cont.ains a spruce branch pointing upwards. The festoons are bordered above and below with straight bands of the green. Spruce and lycopodium '1'e preferable to hemlock for decorative UBes, as the latter is not ,lasting. Long ~arlaJ.?ds of holly, b~>ight with berries, are also lJeautlful for decoratIOn.

The use of an irridescent material, called "Flitter," with wh eh sprayR of ground pine, cedar, box and are coated, produces a b1'illial1t effect. material comes tinted with crimson, purple, blue, yellow-in IflCt, .boxes are put up containing twenty colors, bright and durable. All that is necessary in its use is to applY a thick coat of the medium, and before it has time to dry, dust it thoroughly with the flitter powder, using only one color, or mixing several to produce various tints. Sprigs of leaves and wreathes are made gay with this irridescence.

Heads of wheat and oats can be lllixed with evergreens with good effect .. Dried grasses can be made useful in working out some of the smaller designs. Mountain ash and bittersweet berries are charming when used in evergreen wreathing. If they are not to be obtained, the seed .clustel·s of the sUlTlach make !jood substitutes. If VOll have autumn lea,;es 1Il eVU::;lu\jr

able quantities, they will work in UllUnlIHl1g1Y

with whatever may be used· as the IOllIl'llaLlO'n of your decorative work. To use nothing but evergreens gives the place you use them in a somewhat somber iook,and touches of bright color are needed to produce a more cheerful tone, and one more fitting to the season. If clusters ofle~ves or berries are placed wherever festoons of evergreens are fustened against the walls, she general effect will be Va,'ltly more pleasing than it would be if they were not used.

For the pUlpit nothing is prettier, especially by lamplight, than crystallized gra.~se8 used lib-

·erally against a background of evergreen. They sparkle like gems, and suggest natural frostwork. A most beautiful effect ean be produced bv making the words, "A Me1::t·y Ohristmas," with letters formed of these grasses against evergreen. The background can be made on a strip of cloth of whatever width is thought desirable, covered with ground pine and hemlock. These are better for such purposes than ordinary pine or

cedar. This cloth can be suspended back oftlle pulpit or stage, and when the light falls on the letters they will seem to be formed from bits of icicle,;, As the grasses are brittle and easily brpken after being crystallized, it is well to make each letter on a foundation of pasteboard and put it in place after the evergreen background has been hung np.

SNOW-SHOES. The Norwegian "ski" is a snow-shoe, or rather

a snow-skate, nine feet. long, used ~y the 1"01'wegians to glide down the hillsides 'when they are covered with snow. Great fnn can be had with a pair of snow-shoes made on the same principle as the Norwegian and it is little trouble to rnanumeturc a pair two barrel

After selecting' a couple of straight-score one end of eaell stave with

grooves cut wood, either with your knife or a small gongo,so that little diamond shapes are formed bv the lines crossing. Smear the end thickly with grease and hold it near a bot fire until you can bend it l1pw,trd in a small cune, and bind it in sueh position with a cord. until the wood retains the curve· imparted. lYlake two blocks, each one inch broad and high enough to fit under the heels of your shoes; fasten the blocks on to the snow-skates bv screws; at a proper distance in frout of the blocks fasten two straps securely. By slipping the toes vour shoes through the straps and allowing hollow of the foot to rest over the blocks so that the heels of your shoes bear against the blocks, you can keep the shoes on your feet, and with the aid of a stick to steer by, go sliding down the coasting hill among the sleds aJ?d jumpers, creating as much fun for the others III your first attempts as you do for your-· self; hut with practice,skill can be acquired in the use of Elll!w-skates.

PUZZLE PICT1JRES

Are anita ble gifts for small (',hildren and are simply made. Select two colored pictures, of the same size, cont.aining a variety of objects, snch as wou:d Ijlease a child, and paste them, one on each side of a sheet of stout ca.rdboard. Use thick pa.ste made of flour, and spread it over evenly and thin 1y. After placing the picture on the cardboard, lay a piece of white paper or a cloth over it and rub every wrinkle out; so that the picture adheres in every part, and is perfectly smooth. Taking care that no paste is on the outside, place the cardboard under heavy prm's1l1'e till perfectly drv, and then with a sharp knife and a pair of scissors cnt the cardboard into small irregular shaped pieces. Pack them in a fancy little box and tie with a bright ribbon.

We give a beautiful, simple experiment which may interest the amateur with the microscope, Upon a slip of glass put a drop of liquid auric chloride or ar~entic nitrate, with half a grain of metallic zinc m the auric chloride, and copper in the silver. A growth of exquisite gold and silver ferns will grow beneath the eye.


autumn leaves - volume 1 (1888)latterdaytruth.org/pdf/100050.12.pdf · vol. 1. lamoni, iowa,...

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