OOfSE’S BUBAL NEW-YORKER 
SUFFICIENCY. 
BY DE FORREST t*. GtTMMEUSO.V. 
DARK, mi Mon clouds havo gathered In the West, 
The lightnings flash upon each mountain crest. 
The wild-bird skrlnkB affrighted In the dale, 
The floweret hides Its head ere breaks the gale. 
Rut yonder lofty oak, tt knows no fear. 
It stands. In spite of storms, year after year. 
Its lofty top uplifted to the sky, 
Daring the storm-king with Its strength to vie. 
Some natures, like the wild-blrd of the dale, 
Can no more stand the storm than shale, 
And lllte the tiny floweret hide their head. 
And tremble with a secret fear and dread. 
Rut some are like the oak, noble and strong, 
And In the darkest hours break forth In song. 
Such naturoR are like mile-stones on the way. 
That leads poor weary man unto an Heavenly day. 
<©ur £forw- teller. 
THE MISSING PICTURE. 
BY MRS. C. A. STEWART. 
The Art Gallery in the ambitious young city 
of W-, was nearly ready for the admission of 
visitors. The cars and skill, as well as the pa¬ 
tience and labor, requisite lit the selection and 
arrangement of pictures and statuary, as Is 
usually the case, bad devolved on a few earnest 
managers wlio had determined from the com¬ 
mencement to make this exhibition a success. 
Among these the most spirited and null ring 
was Edgar Raymond, a young lawyer, who 
was devoted to his profession because he con¬ 
sidered It manly and becoming to have some 
part in active life; but, released by an ample 
inheritance from I be drudgery of business, ho 
was able to grai Ify bis strong taste for the beau¬ 
tiful. Ho was called fastidious and hypercriti¬ 
cal and even whimsical by .some, as he would 
descant on the moral beauties v blob be a dinned 
could bo deduced from things Intrinsically ami 
physically beautiful, and which in his view 
wore unmistakably elevating and ennobling in 
tkolr tendency. True or false as the notion 
may be, young RAYMOND hud dwelt, on it so 
much that It had come to tie a part of his creed. 
The morning before the opening had arrived, 
and Raymond stood In the center of the gal¬ 
lery enjoying the scene, b’or weeks he had 
given his attention tii details, now lie bad his 
reward in the beautiful and exquisite collection 
as a whole. So absorbed was be lu the delight¬ 
ful survey that he did not. heed a question till 
it, was repeated. “Can tills havo a place In the 
Gallery, sir?” and then Raymond noticed that 
a small picture was held out for Ids inspection. 
Surprise and admiration lighted his counte¬ 
nance as he scanned the little production, 
which chimed in so thoroughly with the mood 
he was then indulging. “Thatscene/'Uiought 
ho. “is a home that somebody must have loved 
—that lakelet suggests dreaming poet or lover 
-that rocky ascent is just the place for fiery 
ambition to form high resolves—those clouds 
in their golden glory must have reflected aspi¬ 
rations for heaven.” Such was Raymond’s 
first reading of the picture as he went to select 
a place for It where It. might add most in artis¬ 
tic effect to the beauty and perfection of the 
exhibition. Afterwards, as lie looked upon it, 
it told him of patience, ol Industry, of will¬ 
power in carrying out a purpose; it told also of 
an end achieved; It seemed all glowing with 
victory, and Imagination whispered that It 
might lie a victory freighted with courage and 
strength for a glorious future. The niche whore 
he hung it h appened to be just above one of 
Bikustadt’s wood scenes, with deer at a water¬ 
ing place, where the intermingling of sunlight 
and shadow showed the handiwork of a master, 
and proved a harmonious contrast to tho un¬ 
pretending little landscape above it. Each 
scorned to win admiration because of the other, 
if one could judge by the prolonged stay of 
groups of people before them, and the compar¬ 
ing glances cast from one to the other. IIay- 
monij, noticing these, would often amuse him¬ 
self by carelessly remarking, “Only $950 differ¬ 
ence between those two pieces,” and then enjoy 
(lie abashed look of Die many, who had evi¬ 
dently been awarding the palm of preference 
to the smaller one; “For Sale,” in a ladles' 
hand, was written under the “$30," and near 
the close of the exhibition, after an absence of 
several days from t he city on professional busi¬ 
ness, Raymond found his little favorite was 
missing. On inquiry he was told by one of I he 
other managers that It had been purchased by 
a lady, that the owner had been present and 
received the pay, so the Association had no fur¬ 
ther responsibility In regard to it, and finally 
that no one knew either its present or its pre¬ 
vious owner. He was surprised at the annoy¬ 
ance and perturbation of spirit the circum¬ 
stance cost him. A look at. its vacant place 
almost angered him ; he found himself trying 
to recall the picture, and from that the permn- 
die of the young art ist from whose hand he had 
received it. All in vain were ills attempts upon 
the latter point, for only the voice and accent 
came at his mental bidding, and these,thought 
he, harmonized with the picture; and then 
would come t he ever-recurring regret that ho 
had not, noticed her more particularly. The 
exhibition had lost its inspiration; he concluded 
he was homesick, and resolved to visit his home 
and his mother. With Raymond it had always 
been a trait that execution trod fast upon the 
heels of resolve, and therefore near the close of 
the same day he drove up to the family man¬ 
sion—a grand old place, fifteen miles from the 
city, yet only to be reached by private convey¬ 
ance. 
Here, fatherless from childhood, he had been 
reared by a mother whose strong native sense 
and delicate tasfe had been enriched by cul¬ 
ture and society, and with Hie help of grace 
these same traits had been stamped upon her 
son. Visits to tills homo were frequent and 
occasions of great delight, though latterly they 
had often been in conned inn with company. 
Small parties of both ladles an 1 gentlemen 
enjoyed there many delightful days. Mrs. Ray¬ 
mond, though above indulging the folhlo of 
match-making, would try to di over if her on 
had a preference among Ids fair visitors, and 
which of them she was likely to have for a 
daughter-in-law. Hut at six-and-twei.fy he was 
heart whole. He had roamed through many a 
fair garden, and might have culled the choicest, 
beauty for his own. Would he Malt for the 
sweeter wild flower in some shadowy dell? 
This visit was all t he mother’s. Never since 
boyhood had he shown such hearty interest In 
the details of home and farm life, and such an 
openness with regard to the glosses and decep¬ 
tions of society, with which he declared him¬ 
self satiated and disgusted, and finally drifted 
off to his schooldays and recalled many a frolic 
of beech-nutting, boat-riding or skating,'not 
omitting his Christina* stockings, it was late 
when he said “good night," and sought the 
little chamber which as boy and man had ever 
been his own, and which no arguments from 
his mother could ever persuade him to ex¬ 
change for one of ampler dimensions. Now, 
on going In and taking an eager, hungry look 
at. the old familiar furniture, what was his sur¬ 
prise and joy at seeing over the mantel the 
missing picture. Is there any psychology or 
magnetism about this? thought be, ashegazed 
on its beauties. Is Its fate linked with mine ?— 
if so, where ts she who holds the other end of 
t he chain ? 
Of course he did not, fail to inquire of his 
mother the next morning why and of whom 
she had bought it. “It pleased me, and 1 
thought it would you, so I had if placed In 
your room,” replied the mother, and t hen wont 
onto say, “tho artist’s name Is Edith Mait- 
I,and and she lives In Van Clevis In the same 
town with your Uncle Kenneth," and then 
suddenly recollecting herself, “She gave me a 
receipt, end here it Is in my work box,” pro¬ 
ducing a dainty bit. of paper ns unlike as possi¬ 
ble to a business document. As Edgar took it 
from hts mother he thought again of psychol¬ 
ogy uud the golden chain, and wondered if the 
severed links would ever either by conscious or 
unconscious influences, be brought together. 
He felt himself the object of some invisible 
toils, yet, he would use his own powers, and 
with an awakened nature and open eyes, would 
himself thwart or encourage his “ manifest des¬ 
tiny.” I must go to Van Clove, thought he, 
and was about asking his mother to accompany 
him, when he recollected that she had made a 
recent visit, there and that ho had replied to 
the jirgent invitation of his two young lady 
cousins that hts pressing business engagements 
would not allow him to visit them this winter. 
Sri he could think of no pretext to do what he 
now found himself so anxiou« to do, and he 
went hack to the city, resolved to banish both 
fancies and phantoms and to find solace In the 
whirlpool of business. But tho phantoms would 
again conic, both in sleeping and waking vis¬ 
ions, Pass Mils by all who believe t he stronger 
sex superior to those subtle and indefinite in¬ 
fluences, and give ussome reason for bis obey¬ 
ing the impulse to go to Van Clove, In opposi¬ 
tion to the chldlngs and even reproaches of Ids 
judgment. He could not find an answer to the 
question that came to him again and again in 
the cars, but he put It resolutely from him and 
said, “I will gratify or destroy these unquiet 
longings; I will do what 1 can to drive away 
( his restlessness and regain peace." 
That night be stood a welcome, though unex¬ 
pected, guest in the elegant mansion of his 
uncle, and for two weeks was the escort of his 
cousins to lectures and concerts as w T ell as to 
numerous social gatherings, where they were 
proud to introduce him. At one of these he 
noticed a picture on the wall and was told it 
was painted by a Mies Maitland, who resided 
in town. How to see her and got an introduc¬ 
tion was still an unsolved problem, when his 
cousins commenced coaxing him to remain 
long enough for them to give a party in his 
honor. 
“I will stay if you will invite the young artist 
after whom T inquired," was his reply. 
“ Why, cousin, she Is a broken-down lawyer’s 
daughter—her father gets his living by copying, 
and 1 believe she helps him; at any rate, she 
carries home the work," said Allas Julia, as 
though that decided the question. 
“ I hope her father’s misfortunes have not 
rendered her any less worthy of a place in 
good society,” replied Raymond, as he looked 
searchlngly at his kind-hearted though society- 
spoiled cousin. 
“ Oh, of course not., and I will invite her if 
you wish, though she is not at all In our set," 
answered Jclj a, who would not for the world 
have acknowledged to EnoAU that years ago 
tills same Mbs Maitland had been her trusted 
and most intimate friend. 
And so, in hisuncle’s brilliant drawing-room, 
Edgar Raymond was presented to Miss Mait¬ 
land. As their eyes met he knew he was rec- 
ogniz ’ and was not surprised as he remem¬ 
bered the preoccupancy of his mind when she 
brought him the picture. He politely referred 
to that occasion, and said something of the 
pleasure the picture had given him, and as op¬ 
portunity allowed claimed her attention, mid 
before the evening was passed he bail yielded 
to the conviction that if voice ami accent har¬ 
monized with the picture, the P r, uJ, mind, and 
physical self did so, more emphatically. 
And what impression did the city gentleman 
make on the young artist?—and how did she 
relish so much unwonted attention? Tounder- 
stand this wc must go hack to the evening of 
her second visit to. the Picture Gallery. The 
tea table sot for three was waiting; the room 
v is rendered attractive and homelike by nu- 
uii rnu.s little elegancies, fashioned by tasteful 
fingers; the mother, a trifle careworn perhaps, 
yet looked hopeful and loving; the Invalid 
father, as though if the world did not lavish its 
favors upon him, he still had his reasons for 
being proud and happy in the stronghold of 
home. A slight, firm step was heard on the 
threshold and then Edith was there. Always 
brisk and cheery, that evening her face was so 
radiant and t he joy-beams in her eyes shone so 
vividly, that her parents looked the questions 
they would not ask. For answer, when greet¬ 
ings were done with and wraps laid aside, she 
opened her purse and displayed five $10 hills. 
“Bee the price of my picture. I told you, 
mother, 1 should sell it.” After this she related 
how a lady had admired, and had asked a man¬ 
ager who stood near if It could bo hour’ll »'■ 
that, time, -that she then stepped forv, aid, 
claimed the painting as bars, and completed 
the sale. “ I know the lady Is good and noble 
by her looks, but,” added Edith, caressing the 
hills, “she will never know how much good the 
money v ”1 do us.” 
A few weeks after, when Edith received her 
invitation to Miss Raymond’s party, she could 
not conceal her pleasure. She had kept her 
circle of choice friends, hut we all know the 
world has few smiles for t he unfortunate. She 
attributed her Invitation to the party being 
quite a large one, and was willing to forget, as 
it scorns Miss Julia had done. Die friendship 
of their school days. 
Let us sit with Mr. Maitland’s family again 
on t he morning after the party, arid notice the 
tingeon Edith’6 check,nsshosaid, “Oh, moth¬ 
er, it is the young gentleman who received my 
picture; I was sure of it all along, si nee I saw 
him at church. But. how he should know me 
is a mystery: he never once looked at me in 
the gallery. No one in town knows I carried 
it there, so he has not been told of it since he 
came here, and lie was not present when l sold 
It to that charming old lady. Hut he spoke of 
it at once; I can’t tell what praises he bestowed 
upon It, and then he asked permission to call 
this morning and sec what eN- I had in my 
studio. I could no! refuse Dial, request, you 
know. But my studio, poor lit Do bank cham¬ 
ber, with Its one window,” and Edith laughed 
merrily at the idea of inviting a gentleman 
there. 
The cull was received in their cosy little par¬ 
lor, and wuis but the prelude to niany subse¬ 
quent ones, for Edgar’s haste to return to the 
city seemed now entirely forgotten. 
With a. temperament and training such as we 
have described, backed by the little flurry of 
mystery he had passed through, and with the 
disenthral I ment from city ceremonials Die ae 
quatntanee could hut rapidly progress. The 
bright chain was lengthening In Ids hands; 
how his heart rebelled against its slow unwind¬ 
ing*. Two weeks went by like a happy dream. 
Jn vain did cousins rally or partner entreat, his 
return. One week more In* resolved to give to 
this entrancing delight, and then, said ho, •* I 
Mill force fate to a solution of the problem of 
her own propounding. I nitisl know at least if 
Edith’s heart Is free." The last happy evening 
had been spent: he was just asking permission 
to step in and sav good-by before his early 
start, intending then to learn what late had in 
store for him. Ah Edith extended her baud 
to bid him good night, his feelings took words 
and tho torrent of Ills love flowed forth, reveal¬ 
ing tho depth and purity of the st ream beneath, 
while Edith, caring litt le for the triumph, felt 
that she had gained a treasure: but. in all her 
happiness at finding her heart's true rest there 
was to her yet something hidden, something 
unexplained. Not. that she was much surprised 
at the denouement a true woman seldom li— 
but she felt in musing over the affair that there 
was a hiatus someu here. She had indeed once 
inquired of Mr. Raymond If he knew the lady 
who had bought her picture, hut had not no¬ 
ticed any evarinn in his reply that he was away 
from the city at the time. His fingers even 
then were closing about a little paper in Ids 
vest pocket that, would have rold all. But for 
a purpose of his own would ho yet for a while 
reserve it, and went back to the city happy in 
tho permission soon to return for Ills bride. In 
four weeks more In- wrote a surprise to his 
mother. The epistle ran thus : 
“Dear Morn i;rM ake ready for mo and 
mine on Thursday morning. No parade; there 
are only us, your happy son and wife,” 
Mrs. Raymond received the note on Wednes¬ 
day evening, find though happy and gratified, 
, she wondered how it had come about. One 
thing she decided within herself—that it was 
all arranged when he had made her that last 
pleasant visit, only his heart had failed him to 
tell her. hut he had no doubt come up with Die 
intention of doing so. Bhc was still turning 
these things over in her mind, on tho clear light 
spring morning, when she heard the rattling 
of wheels on the still frozen ground, saw the 
shadow or a carriage on tin* window, and they 
were there. Though the sunshine was very 
bright, the air was yet frosty, and mans wraps 
and veils enveloped the lithe form Edgar lift ed 
from the carriage and handed to his mother, 
saying, “ Here is your daughter,” and then step¬ 
ping aside, enjoyed to the full the astonish¬ 
ment of each face as recognition slowly earn*-, 
and " one kiss more" was claimed ami received 
in the new-found joy. As they started to fol¬ 
low their luggage up stairs, Edith heard some¬ 
thing about the front room. Edgar answered, 
“ Yes, mother,” but conducted his wife past 
the large guest chamber to Ids own little room 
over the porch. On entering her first exclama¬ 
tion was, " Oh, my precious, darling picture. ' 
“ Yes,” answered her husband, kissing her, “ it 
truly is, for it has given a precious darling to 
me/’ 
Sabkilt SMhur. 
EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE, 
New York, Oct., 1373. 
Ye men of God, of every name and tongue 
Where Christ’s comm mid* arc- known, his praises 
sung. 
Here lay your honors down, accept your King, 
And with one voice His glorious anthem sing. 
Ono God—the mighty Ruler of us all, 
Cue Saviour—at whoso foot wc suppliants fall, 
One Cross—the same the Man of Sorrows here. 
One Holy Ghost— the Spirit we mlore. 
One Triune God- His living presence hero 
Knlij, lU riM all our thoughts, our path makes clear; 
One lforae beyond—there dwells eternal peace, 
Where creeds are one and questionings may cease. 
One Father God—one Comforter and Rest - 
One Ja»vo Divine ! Thou bnlm for souls oppressed. 
Bhed down Thy Light, our drooping faith inspire; 
Bo Thou our Christ, our Hope, our Heart’s desire! 
We (nimbly bow, ns Thou hast taught to pray; 
Bo thou our manna—yea. our Troth and Way. 
“ Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done,” our plea ; 
Unite our hearts, till we are One with Thee! 
[.V. Y. Evening Post. 
-- 
FAITH IN JESUS. 
It is the inactivity of faith in Jesus that 
keeps us so Imperfect and wrestling with our 
corn ptioiit . without any advancement. Wo 
wit- I i our own strength too often, and so 
arc ji ,t!y, yea, nee.iv urily, foiled; It cannot 
he o fli* nvi .till wo make Him our strength, 
Thi w- To 111 forgetting, and had need to be 
put in mind of, and ought frequently to remind 
mil-selves. We would boat doing for ourselves, 
and insensibly fall Into this folly, even after 
much smarting for it, if wc ho not watchful 
against it. There Is this "wretched natural 
Independency in u-, that Is so hard to beat out. 
All our projecting* arc but castles in the air, 
imaginary buildings without a foundation, till 
once laid on Christ. But never shall we find 
heart peace, sweet peace, and progress in holi¬ 
ness, till wo ho driven from it to make Him ail 
our strength ; till wo be brought to do nothing, 
to attempt nothing, to hope or expect nothing, 
hut in Him ; and then shall we indeed find His 
fulness and uil-sufflciency, and “lie more than 
conqueror- through Him who hath loved us,” 
—LcUjhhm. 
—-■ 
THE BODY OF RELIGION. 
A Christian life cannot exist without its 
body. Habits or religion are t he body of living. 
He who neglects outward observance, who lives 
without church membership without attend¬ 
ance upon meeting*, without private or family 
devotion, without fixed habits of benevolence 
Is trying to live a ghostly life. There Is no soul 
so strong that it can afford to dispense with its 
earthly tabernacle while it stays here; there is 
no Christian life so vigorous that It will not 
languish if it be divorced from those outward 
acts autl habits that arc Its body. Ho Diat will 
be thoroughly prepared for trial ami thoroughly 
furnished unto every good work will protect 
himself and support himself by that wall of 
habit t hat gives fixedness to good purposes and 
outward expression to holy aspirations. The 
strong spirit in the robust body is an ideal real¬ 
ized in Die life of the Christian whoso earnest 
heart rejoices in its duties, and whose most 
trifling duties arc regularly performed with an 
earnest heart.— The, 1'hrMian Union. 
-- 
One of our exchanges says: — “There arc 
more Jews in New York than in Jerusalem, 
and more than any other city In the world, it 
is said L>y those who have studied their present 
state. Mr. Mingins says of New’ York, ‘There 
are more Germans than in Berlin, more irish¬ 
men t han in Dublin, more Catholics than in 
Rome, and more Jews than In Palestine.” The 
census does not give religious statistics, but 
the number of professing Jews resident of the 
city has been approximately estimated by the 
quantity of Passover biscuits manufactured for 
their use. The bakeries produced on the aver¬ 
age for the last decade, 300,000 pounds yearly, 
which, at the rate of one pound per day for 
each adult ifiiririg the eight days generally ob¬ 
served, would make a number of 100,000 per¬ 
sons." 
-- 
A PERSON is not worth anything that has not 
had troubles. You cannot subdue selfishness 
without a struggle. You cannot restrain pride 
w ithout a conflict. You cannot expect to go 
through life without bearing burdens. But you 
are going to have help under circumstances 
that will redeem you from t hose things. You 
arc going to experience more victories than 
defeats. Your suffering will be only here and 
t here—little spots In a whole field of peace and 
joy. 
- 4 -*~*- 
A STRING OF PEARLS. 
Uphold truth when thou canst, and for her 
sake be hated ; but know thy individual cause 
is not the cause of truth, and beware that they 
are not confounded.—Goethe. 
Whether we are in the house of God, or not, 
depends hot so much upon where wc are, as in 
what condition we are. 
It is not what we do, it is not our history that 
makes us divine—it is what we are and which 
we are to be forever. 
