MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER 
JULY 48 
that nothing: could save mo from eventual 
blindness. The disease that affected tny eyes 
was not one for which an operation would be 
of any use. All he could do was to give me 
certain streruttbonlngf remedies which would 
help to delay the time when sight would go 
entirely. 
“I thanked him nnd went away, and I can 
scarcely tell you, Mary, how eagerly and loving¬ 
ly I looked up at the blue sky and the blessed 
sunlight as 1 wulked back to my lodgings. I 
fe't as If they wore soon to die a* far as I was 
ooncerncd, and that I never till now knew how 
dear they wore to me. I was very unhappy 
for several days, and I am afraid rcboll'ous 
thoughts arose In my mind. I thought, Why 
should my lot lie so hard a one? But 1 trust I 
did not long continue thus. I prayed for resig¬ 
nation and strength to bear Mils fresh trial, and 
it has been granted me in a great measure. 1 
think I can look forward even to blindness 
calmly now; and see, bare I am teaching my¬ 
self to read against t hat, time e ones. I thought 
I would not watt, but begin at once to familiar¬ 
ize myself with touching the raised alphabet 
while I can still see. T ie loss of my eyesight 
will bo less felt by mo if I am not thereby cut, 
off from all Intercourse with books, and above 
all my Bible." 
Mary could not speak for a few minutes after 
Mrs. Lorritner had told her touoblng talc. At 
length she said, "Is It. likely to bo soon? or 
may It be a long time hence?" 
“ Not vory long, my love ; Dr. B-says the 
dlseuso has made considerable progress already; 
but nothing could have been dona even had 1 
gone to lilm sooner. I scarcely see at all with 
one eye, and the other will probably not Berve 
me more than a year longer so as to bo of much 
use." 
"Will you not take other advice?" asked 
Mary ; “ doctors are mistaken sometimes." 
"Not In such a case as mine, I fear. There 
can be but one result with mo as with rny 
father. Ho consulted the llrst men both In 
this country’ And Europe. No, dear Mary, I 
must make up my mind to what Is before me. 
T must soon take my leave of all that I so love 
to look upon. I went to Hampsteud the day 
bofure I returned here to bid gond-by to the 
graves of my little ones. I thought I should 
like to gaze on them once more. But now, my 
dear girl. It Is high time you wont to bed. I am 
selfish in keeping you so late." 
" Hut, dear Mrs. Lorritner, l hope you will not 
alt up any longer with those papers; It roust be 
very bad for your health, and there can be no 
great hurry for you to learn to read that way. 
Phyllis and Flora and I shall be so clp.d to read 
to you every day ns long as you like to listen 
to us." 
“I am sura you would, dear; but, Mary, I 
oannot be of much more use here. Flora Is 
nearly oducaLod. You and Phyllis can do all 
that Is wanted for her with the akl of masters, 
and I hope to find somo employment In the 
Blind Asylum after a time, if I can master the 
art of reading completely." 
“Ob, Mim. Lorritner, you must not talk of 
leaving us; wo could not let you go." 
"A poor, blind governess would be a useless 
burden to you, dear Mary ; no, 1 must try and 
do something for myself even when all has be¬ 
come dark without. It will Indeed be a great 
trial to part from you all, for I love you very 
dearly; but it must have been »o, you know, 
sooner or Inter. Now good night, my love; not 
a word more, for you arc looking quite tired 
out," and, embracing affectionately, they part¬ 
ed for the night. 
a governess to us; she has been a valuable 
friend to you girls ever alnoe your poor mother 
died, and we must not forget this now that 
affliction has come upon her. Hark! there Is 
the breakfast-bell, we must go In. We will 
speak of this again in a day or two," and the 
father and daughter turned their steps towards 
the house. 
Mr. Littleton arrived the next day. His 
visit* were always a source of delight to the 
young people, and his usual hearty welcome 
was given him. It was very pleasant to him to 
see how his nieces had learned to love and 
value the excellent woman who, when he fir t. 
knew her, he bad formed so high an opinion 
jof. The nows that he had now learned aroused 
his deepest sympathy. 
Mr. Mortimer declared that It was hia Inten¬ 
tion to provide for her In some way; the only 
question was, In what manner should this be 
done ? The girls all entreated that, come what 
would, her home might continue to be with 
them, 
“ We should like to take oharge of her our- 
solves when she Is helpless,” they said; “she 
has cared for us all these years, and now It will 
be our turn to oare for her." 
“Eight, my dear nieces," said uncle Edmund, 
who was present, " this Is aa It should be. She 
has watched over your youth, and it is well 
that you should be the support, of her age." 
It was not easy, however, to persuade Mrs. 
Lorrlmer thot, she would be still wanted In 
their house. She shrauk from the Idea of lift¬ 
ing a burden, till Mr. Littleton seriously re¬ 
minded her that she must remember the pro¬ 
posed homo was offered her not only by true 
loving hearts, who were gratefully proving 
their sense of her past services, hut by One 
who, though He had afflicted her, was merci¬ 
fully making the affliction aa light as it could 
be by providing a home where she would be 
valued and loved. 
When brought before her in this light, Mrs. 
Lorrlmer hesitated no longer, and with a deep 
sense of gratitude she accepted the offer so 
pressingly ant! sincerely made by Mr. Mortimer 
and his children. 
" Who knows but 1 may be of some sort, of 
use," said she, “even when the days of my 
darkness are fully set in ?” 
Years went on, and changeacame to the Mor¬ 
timer finally as to all others. The girls mar¬ 
ried and settled In homos of their own, new 
lies were formed, new Interests arose; but 
that which bound them to their dear old gov¬ 
erness remained firm as ever. The only con¬ 
tention was who should have her in their 
house. Mary put In the strongest claim, for 
she married first; and between her el Jest little 
girl and Mrs, Lorrlmer sprang up a most ten¬ 
der affection. Tho early years of her blindness 
were soothed and brightened by this child, 
whose delight It was, as soon aa she could walk 
herself, to guide the steps of her beloved old 
friend and playfellow, wao was never so happy 
as when In the company of her tiny guide. 
And as other little ones followed in the course 
of time, they all in turn contended for the #ov- 
eted honor of leading her about in tbelr daily- 
walks, or taking her to some pleasant spot In 
the garden, where, seated around her, they 
would listen with breathless interest to one of 
the many tales she was ever ready to relate, 
and in which she continued to convey Instruc¬ 
tion that might. Influence them for good. As a 
sharer of all their little Joys and troubles, of 
their parents' anxieties and interests, and as 
the beloved friend and adviser of all, the blind 
governess’ hope that she might be of some use 
wus Indeed verified. 
CHAPTER III. 
Mart could not sleep. Her father’s habits 
were early ones, and he was generally in the 
garden by seven o’clock. At that hour Mary 
was up and dressed, and surprised him by her 
appoaranoe in the kitohen-garden, where he 
was examining some young trees with great in¬ 
terest. 
“Tou here at such an early hour, Mary I Why, 
what has disturbed your slumbers so unusually 
this morning?" 
" They have been very much disturbed all 
night, papa, and I want to talk to you before 
you go to your office. Will you take a little 
wulk with me?" 
" Direct ly, my dear; first let mo speak to BeD- 
son about sheltering these young trees, and I 
will come. He has taken off the matting too 
soon; the east winds are still very keen.” 
Benson coming up at this moment a talk 
about trees and vegetables followed, which 
seemed Interminable to Mary, who was burn¬ 
ing with Impatience to speak to her father 
about Mrs. Lorrlmer. 
When at last she got him to herself she re¬ 
lated to him the same sad history that Mrs. 
Lorrlmer had given her the night before. 
Mr. Mortimer was a man who, though con¬ 
stantly engaged In business roost energetically, 
was possessed of a warm heart and muoh right 
feeling, and he was greatly shocked at hearing 
of the mlsfortuue that threatened the gov¬ 
erness, who for long had been bo valuable to 
blm for Ills chiltB’en’s sake. 
"You will not let her leave us, dear papa ?" 
said Mary. She Is arranging in her own mind 
to do so very soon, I knowand then she told 
her papa how she was teaching herself to road 
like the blind, In hopes that she might get em¬ 
ployment In the Blind Asylum. 
“ She shall be cared for,” said Mr. Mortimer ; 
“I will think over the matter and consult 
your uncle Edmund, who, you know, Is coming 
to-morrow. MrB. Lorrimer has been more than 
The Publishers have reflected upon them¬ 
selves great credit by the manner In whtoh this 
book Is isaued. The printing, bindingand gen¬ 
eral appearance of the work are far better than 
most of Its kind, nnd the clear, open type ren¬ 
ders Its perusal a pleasure, while the Illustra¬ 
tions display greattaste and nnspared expense. 
—— | 
No A item alive.— By Annie Thomas. Philadel¬ 
phia : Porter & Coates. [I2n>c>.—pp. 295.] 
The name of the authoress Is a sufficient 
guaranty that this book Is Interesting. The 
wayward and capricious heroine, IIarty Car¬ 
lisle, is taken thr ugh a series of three seve¬ 
ral courtships, and carries with her. through 
them all, the sympathies of the reader. “To 
err Is human," and Haktt, we are constrained 
to say, Is veru human. Perhaps It Is our own 
lack of high-toned generosity that prevents us 
from fully appreciating the utter self-abnega¬ 
tion displayed by the two heroesln their friend¬ 
ship for each other, but we must say, in self- 
defense, that wo rievor bad the good fortune to 
stumble upon any approach to It In actual life. 
One refreshing thing about tho book is that Its 
heroine don't marry and live happily ever after¬ 
wards. She get# jilted and probably dies an old 
maid. Our “ vardiot”— “Sarved her right." 
The Gruttt Presbyterian Conflict—Patton vs. 
Swtnc. Chicago: Geo. MacDonald & Co. (8vo. 
PP. 1TO.J 
The churches have been in the past, and hto 
now-a-days, much disturbed by a bold, critical 
spirit, Mmt insists upon examining and reject¬ 
ing or modifying creeds and practices. Noth¬ 
ing is seU.ed—everything debatable. Fore most 
among the discussions of the time Is that of 
Cbic.igo. The work before us contains a very 
full and complete statement of everything re- 
latingto this memorable case,gotten up In good 
style and oorrectly printed, though wc note an 
egregious blunder at the head of page 18. The 
Charges and Specifications, the Arguments and 
Answers, with fourteen of tho Sermons on 
which the charges are baaed, give the help many 
thousands need to guide their own judgment 
to a decision, and beside, furnish pleasant and 
Instructive reading. 
Our First Hundred Years—Part One.—By C. 
Edwards Lester. New York: United States 
Publishing co. 
As the author sees fit to call it—"Life of the 
Republic of the United States, illustrated in its 
four great period#, Colonisation, Consolidation, 
Development, Achievement." Another history 
to he published In twelve monthly parts. This 
work will ho valuable for reference, and should 
bo lu the hands of every American. For history, 
It Is smoothly written and evinces considerable 
research. 
The Brooklyn Council ol 1874,—Official Re¬ 
port of the Proceedings and Result. New York : 
WooJworth & Graham. 
This book Is handsomely published. It is 
principally notod as a record of what was not 
done. Mr. Beecher's Plymouth Church was 
arraigned for Us unorthodox position, to which 
arraignment It pleaded “ none of yourhmincss," 
which p!oa was pert ore* accepted by the Coun¬ 
cil, after which an adjournment was had—“ate 
transit,” etc. _ 
Introduction to Irish Farming.— By THOMAS 
Baldwin, M. R. I, A., superintendent of the 
Agricultural Department of National Education 
in Ireland. London: Macmillan A Co. 
Thib little book contains five chapters:—On 
Manures; the Crops to grow and how to grow 
them ; Live Stock ; examples of successful 
farming ond Cottage Gardening. This work Is 
happily nnd severely practical, and must be a 
great aid to Irish farmers, and contains much 
that it will not Injure American farmers to read. 
Treat’s Illustrated New York, Brooklyn nnd 
Surroundings.— New York: E. B. Treat. 1pp. 
100.—price 50 cte. 
An excellent guide book for strangers visit¬ 
ing this city and vicinity. It la profusely illus¬ 
trated—In fact, largely made up of excellent 
wood outs, representing almost every building 
nnd Institution of any public interest In and 
about New York. The accuracy of the work as 
a guide for strangers commends it to all. 
New Music.— We have received from Wm. A. 
POND &■ Co., 547 Broadway, New York, “ Wish¬ 
es," “ Prison Song," “ Three Roses,"—three ex¬ 
ceptionally good songs, by Faustina Hassk 
Hodges: “Hippodrome Quadrille," with Cor¬ 
net Obligato, by W. J. Allen : “ The Regular 
Army, O," by David Braham j" " Inflation 
Galop,” by W. Suckenholz ; “ Doctrtnen,” 
Waltz, by Edward Strauss; “Submission"— 
Sacred 8ong— by H. P. Danes; “Make Believe 
I'm Dreaming," ballad by Violetta, a pleasant 
Alto Song. " Oft In the Stilly Night,” Quar¬ 
tette for men’s voices, arranged by J. R. Thom¬ 
as. “Spring. Gentle Spring," Song arranged 
for guitar by Napoleon W. Gould. “Mlgnon," 
Caprice de Concert, by Richard Hoffman. 
“Hadden Hall,” a Reminiscence, by the same 
composer. 
- +-+■+ - 
Books Received. —From T. B. PETERSON & 
i Bros., Philadelphia, we have received the fol¬ 
lowing works:—Sunshine and Shadow, a Novel, 
by Mrs. C. J. Newby. Paper, 50 cents. The 
Brigand, by Victor Hugo. Paper, 76 cents. 
> The Orphan's Trials, by Emerson Bennett. 
1 Cloth, $1.75. 
j From Roberts Bros., Boston :— Old and New, 
monthly, conducted by Edward E. Hale. 
Sfttq JKtnpn|g IHoijtd. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
“Tell it All j” Ti e Story of a Life Experience in 
Mormonism. — By Mrs. T. B. H. STENHOUSK. 
A. D Worthington A Co. [Cloth ; 8vo.—pp.638.J 
Almost every ono who ever visits Utah seems 
to think It Incumbent upon him or hex to write 
a book; hence a market glutted with books on 
Mormonism. Few writers on this subject, how¬ 
ever, have enjoyed the opportunities of know¬ 
ing whereof they speak with as muoh certainty 
as Mrs. Stenhouse— she was herself a Mormon. 
She writes of what sho ha* heard, seen and 
done, and while the book bears the imprint of 
truth, one can hardly fall to think it an over¬ 
drawn picture. She says many stupid things 
and some good one*. For example, on page 
4Si we read: 
“ when once they have obtained the reluc¬ 
tant consent of their wives to marry another, 
it Is astonishing how bright and cheerful these 
Mormon husbands become. Notwithstanding 
all that they have said to the contrary, it t« 
evident that Polygamy Is no trial to their faith. 
They say that It Is as great a cross to them as It 
Is to their wives, but somehow or other they 
take very kindly to It. 
“ Mormon domestic matters are to the Gen¬ 
tile looker-on a perfect mystery. No one out¬ 
side of Mormonism cun realize the position of 
a wife, in her husband’s own house, waiting for 
him to bring home to her another wife. But 
the Mormon women understand and feel It all." 
Of the redoubtable BRIGHAM she says : 
“ BRIGHAM had denounced In the Tabernacle 
all those who took contracts or who bad any 
dealings with the Gentiles In any way whatso¬ 
ever. One merchant in particular he singled 
out, and before the whole congregation, show¬ 
ered upon him all his wrath—going so far as to 
call him a thief, and saying tliai he * Would 
apostatise and go to bell.’ Yet Biugham to¬ 
day Is associated In business with that same 
man 1" 
Sabbath grading. 
EBB-TIDE. 
On a summer eve, when the sun was low. 
An old man Bat in the golden glow; 
The waves were washing the sandy atones. 
And calir. and sweet were their languid tones; 
lie looked, and listened, and softly sighed, 
As he heard the voice of the ehbtng-tMe. 
He had passed ht« three-score years and ten; 
He had smiled and wept like other men s 
Brother and parent, friend and wife, 
Had drifted over the sea of life 
To the peaceful shore where the saints abide, 
But he was left by the ehhing-tlde. 
Left all alone with the dreamy past: 
A battered hull on the sli Ingle cast: 
No more to ride on tho seething main. 
Nor feel the shook of the storm again ; 
He lay at peace by the ocean side, 
To wait the coming of Death’s great tide. 
That solemn tide, with It* voiceless roll, 
Shall bear on its waves the weary soul 
To thepleseed land, where tho angel throng 
Will hail Its coming with holy song. 
And the home of that faithful heart shall be 
A place of rest by the Crystal Sea! 
HEREIN 
LOVE. 
A Child looks Into his father’s face, and sees 
and feels that he is loved. So with God ; he 
loves me, he Individualizes me, looks into my 
heart as a person. This Is not mysticism, nor 
rhapsody, hut every can look to God 1 n that way, 
and, when lonely and oppressed, can think. 
My Father cares for me. 
There is another truth, which is the ahadow 
so to speak, of thl6 great love of God ; it is his 
anger and wrath on account of wrong-doing. 
Of what are men more sensitive t han of love 
despitefully used? IT we are ungrateful for 
God’s love, we cannot think of Him without 
thinking of his wiath. A person that ha i llvod 
wickedly must suffer remorse; bo must we fee’, 
as being sinners toward Qod. Can wo look 
lovingly up and say. My Father, I love thee? 
No. Christ ’s coming Is a proclamation of God’s 
love his dying, of God's displeasure. His life 
was a mixture of love and sorrow. The cross 
comprehends both. What an appeal to our 
hearts! Christ comes Into the world, boars our 
penalties, and seeks to Infuse Invo into us. 
Does Ills abounding love produce love in us? 
Have we attained to union with Christ? It is 
not a slavish, Bervilo life, but he who has it, hus 
entered into liberty. 
-- 
AN ATHEIST’S FUNERAL. 
Under the title of “An Atheist’s Funeral” 
The London Sun publishes an account of the 
burial of Mr. Austin Holyoake, who died In the 
full faith of negation, and passed his last hours 
In drawing up an assertion of his continued 
disbelief in the existence of God. It Is an as¬ 
tonishingly calm and sturdy statement, and 
referring to his own terrible sufferings and the 
tendency of most skeptic* to renounce their 
unbelief at the appioach of death be says 
"they who, under pain, say they ace tho error 
of tbelr previous belief, had never thought out 
the problem for themselves." Funeral orations 
were pronounced over his grave by Messrs. 
Watts and Bradlaugh. Both shrank instinct¬ 
ively from the assertion of their own gloomy 
beliefs, and could not, over the grave of their 
friend, eive utterance to their conviction that 
he was nothing but dust. Even on his tomb¬ 
stone there was an inscription under which the 
most devoted Christian might rest, and before 
which his loving friends might kneel in joyful 
trust: “In Memorlam. Gone before." 
A FEW PEARLS. 
Deep humility Is a Btrong bulwark, and it is 
only as we enter Into it that we find safety and 
true exaltation .—John Wooltnan. 
An elevated purpose is a good and ennobling 
thing, but we cannot begin at thotop of it. We 
must work up to it by the often difficult path 
of daily duty. 
“God's greatness flows around our incom¬ 
pleteness,* 1 and the preacher who lays hold of 
It, bringing it within reach of struggling aftd 
despairing men, shall never Iaok hearers or re¬ 
joicing converts. 
A Man will always undergo great toil and 
hardship for ends that muBt be many years 
distant, as wealth or fame; but none for an end 
that may be close at hand, as the joys of 
h eaven .—Hawthorne. 
Cheerfulness Is an excell ent wearing quali¬ 
ty. It has been called the bright weather of 
the heart. It gives harmony to the soul, and Is 
a perpetual song without words. It Is tanta¬ 
mount to repose. It enables nature to recruit 
lisstrenglh ; whereas worry and discontent de¬ 
bilitate it, involving constant weur and tear. 
The tide of our sorrows and sins has often 
arisen from a trivial spring; and the same Is 
true of our earthly Joys. Our daily trluls and 
hourly blessings gather something of the radi¬ 
ance of the bow |n the clouds in the day of rain, 
as we receive them the pierced hand8 of Him 
whose death and Intercession have made all 
I things ours—Anna Shipton. 
