226 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
06T. 2 
“Are you well known In Paris?" 
“Yes; everybody knows Marie the Beggar 
Girl.” 
“Are you known to Robespierre? Tf so, I 
want to make a bargain with you.” 
“lam. Wbat do you wish ? " 
“You see that, my clothing Is better than 
your own, and I wish to exchange with you. T 
want you to not show yourself at all for a short 
time, or until 1 come to you again. As n recom¬ 
pense for aiding mo I will give you a thousand 
francs, and when I com© back I will give you a 
thousand more. As security for my return, 
take this ring." 
The lady drew a diamond ring from her An¬ 
ger and gave It to the beggar girl; then handed 
her a purse containing gold. The girl appeared 
a little puziled, and asked: 
“Well, what are you going to do with my 
dress 
“I want to put it on and go where I first met 
you.” 
“Ob! T understand now. You what to see 
the Chopping go on, and you are afraid you will 
be taken for an aristocrat if yon wear that 
dress; you want to represent me.” 
“ Yes, l want to look as near like yon as pos¬ 
sible.” 
“ Well, that won't bo difficult. Your hair and 
eyes, and even jour mouth, are like mine. 
Yourfaco is too white, though. But you can 
alter that with a little dirt.” 
They exchanged dresses arid soon the young, 
rich and noble Marie de Nantes was clad in the 
rags of Marie the Beggar Girl of Paris. The 
history of Marie do Nantes was a sad one. Her 
father and two brothers had fallen victims to 
the remorseless fiends of the Revolution, snd a 
third aud last brother had been seized : but of 
bis fate ebe was ignorant, although she ex¬ 
pected that It would he similar to that of her 
other relatives. He had been torn from her 
but a few hours before. After the exchange 
the pauper, looking on the stockingles* and 
shoeless litt le foot and ankles of the lady, Bald : 
“That will never do. Your feet are too white 
and delicate. Let me arrange matters." 
Jn a few minutes Marie was prepared, and in 
the filth and rage she f merged Into the street. 
She now took her course hack toward the guil¬ 
lotine, and at length reached the square where 
the bloody work was d ill going on. Gradually 
she forced her way through the crowd, and 
nearer and nearer she came to the scaffold. 
She even forced a laugh at several remarks she 
beard around her, but those laughs sounded 
strangely. She now 6tood within the platform, 
swept It with her eyes, but her brother was not 
there. Tbo cry was raised, “ The aristocrats are 
oomlng! “ 
Her heart fluttered violently, and she felt a 
faintness com® over her, as she heard the tramp 
of the ooomed men approaching. Her brot her 
walked proudly and fearlessly forward, and as¬ 
cended the steps that led to the block. Up to 
this moment the strength of the poor Marie had 
failed her. and she was unable to put her re¬ 
solve into execution. But now a sister’s love 
swelled up In her heart., aud she recovered her 
strength. She sprang forward,bursting through 
the line of guards, and ran up the steps. Grasp¬ 
ing her brother by the hand, she said : 
“ What does this mean ? It is only the aris¬ 
tocrats who are to die.’’ 
“ Away, woman 1" exclaimed one of the exe¬ 
cutioners. 
“No; I will not go away until you tell me 
why my brother la thus bound.” 
“ Your brother ! ” was the echo. “ Well, who 
are you ?” 
“ I am Marie; don't you know me ?” 
“The beggar girl ?” 
“Aye." 
“ But this is not your brother.” 
“It is. Ask him—ssk him." 
Young Antonio deNantes had turned a scorn¬ 
ful glance upon the maiden, but a light crossed 
his face, and he murmured, “ Oh, my sister 1" 
“ Is this your brother?" asked Robespierre of 
the supposed beggar, advancing near her." 
“It is." 
“Does Mnrlo speak the truth?” asked Robe¬ 
spierre. 
“ She does," was the brother's reply. 
“ And you are not de NaDtes?" 
“ I tell you I am her brother.” 
“ Why did you uot tell us this before?” 
“ I attempted to speak, hut was silenced.” 
“ But you might have declared yourself.” 
“ You would not have believed me.” 
“ But your dress ? " 
“It belonged to an aristocrat—perhaps to him 
for whom i eas taken.” 
Robespierre advanced close to young Nantes 
and gazed earnestly Into his face ; then he ap¬ 
proached Mario and looked steadily Into her 
eyes for a short i [me. It was a moment of trial 
for the poor girl. She trembled in spite ol all 
her efforts to becalm. She almost felt that she 
was lost, when the human fiend .whose woid 
was law turned and said: 
“ IL-lease the man.” 
The chains were instantly removed and An¬ 
tonio de N ml.es walked down from the Bcaf- 
fold, followed by his sister, while shouts rent 
the air, for they supposed he was a commoner 
wi o had thus been saved. 
Tae young man worked bis way through the 
crowd as rapidly as possible, leading Marie. 
They scarcely escaped it beforo the poor girl 
fainted from the intensity of her feelings. The 
brother scarcely knew wbatto do, but a hand 
was laid on his arm and a voice said : 
“ Bring her to my room again : she will be safe 
there." 
The brother conveyed her to the apartment 
of the pauper and a<*ke<l of her: 
“Have you seen this female before?” 
"Yes, I know all about her,” returned the 
pauper. “ She has done It, and I am glad." 
Before the noble lady had returned to con- j 
sciousness the brother hud learned all. When 
she did so they both sought more secure quar¬ 
ters, after rewarding the beggar girl as prom¬ 
ised. 
“Do you think Robespierre was really de¬ 
ceived?" asked Marie de Nantes. 
“ I think not," returned the brother. 
“ Then why did he order your release ?" 
“Hesaw your plan—lie admired your cour¬ 
age. Could a fiend have done less?” 
“ Perhaps this was the case; but if so, it was 
a deed of mercy, and the only one that man 
ever did,” 
“ You are right." 
Anton<o de Nantes was not again arrested, 
and lived happily with that 6ister who bad so 
nobly periled her own life to ssve him by per¬ 
sonating the Beggar G rl of Paris. 
A &TOBY ABOUT O’CONNELL. 
One of the most effective weapons of O'Con¬ 
nell was his wit, which was always at his com¬ 
mand. There are hundreds of stories detailing 
instances of bis power lo this respect. One of 
Ibetie Is a story, whero tho victim is Dr. Russell, 
the famous correspondent of tho London Times. 
On one occasion, when O'Connell was to ad¬ 
dress a monster meeting fu Ireland, Rissell 
was sent over by the 1'lmea to report. 0 Con¬ 
nell’s speech, the purpose being to get evidence 
that could be used against him In care lie should 
utter language capable of being Interpreted as 
seditious. By O Connell's advice, Russell w,<s 
provided with ©very possible facility for his 
work. lie was assigned a seat near O'Conuell, 
where be could hear every word. O’Connell, 
before beginning bis speech, informed the 
thousands of people present that there was a 
very able Englishman present who came all the 
way from England to report, his speech ; that it 
was to be printed In the London Times, and 
that the gentleman was desirous to get an 
accurate report, so that he could swear to It if 
necessary. 
He therefore appealed to the Irish present to 
be quiet and orderly : to make no noise, and to 
do nothing that could disturb the English 
gentleman, or cause him to lose a word of the 
speech to which he was to swear. Duringtbeso 
remarks he pointed out Mr. Russell personally 
who was placed so conspicuously as to be easily 
Seen by all. Then, turning to Mr. Russell, he 
asked him it there was anything bo needed, if 
bo was comfortably abated, if bia pens were in 
order, arid if ha wore ready to begin. By this 
time JUt>esell bad become the most interesting 
and conspicuous man in the crowd. Again 
appealing to the crowd to become quiet and let 
the gentleman get such a report us he could 
i-wear to, he informed Rus&e)l that be was 
about to begin. Russell dipped hi* f un in Ink, 
and O'Conn©] I began h Is ©ration —in Irish. f The 
multitude saw the joke, and Russell was pain¬ 
fully impressed with the knowledge that he 
was laughed at. At Intervals O Connell would 
appeal In English to the crowd to be silent, as 
the English gentleman did not seem to get 
along very well, and would not be aide to 
swear to the accuracy of the report. Every 
moment made ltussell'6 position more plainful, 
until at last, mortified and humiliated at the 
exposure of the real purpose of bis visit, aDd at 
its defeat, he rose from his seat, left the meet¬ 
ing, and quitted Ireland. 
- «.-*« - 
RATHER ROMANTIC. 
A very pretty love romance has cropped out 
this summer at Watch Hill, which may ho worth 
the telling. The prettiest girl at one of tho 
great hotels is about 18. This Is her first season 
out, and she was fancy free when she came 
here. She is the niece of a distinguished Chi¬ 
cago merchant, and is here with bis family to 
spend some of an abundant, fortune left by a 
doting father to an only child. She I* toed of 
the sea and open air generally, at:d every morn¬ 
ing indulges In a generous bath In the breakers 
She makes a pretty picture as she treads the 
white sand, elastic aud symmetrical in her 
movements, to dash into the water and to be 
caught up aud tossed in tho surf. A young doc¬ 
tor from tho City of Providence evidently 
thought so, for ho generally managed to .be on 
hand to bathe at Ihe same time. He old not 
speak to her, but acted as a kind of protecting 
spirit over her lavation, fearful of every rude 
wave that visited her fair form too roughly, 1 
don't think she noticed It, but he was very con¬ 
stant in bia protection for some time. One 
morning a week or so ago, the divine miss took 
a notior into her head to bathe before break¬ 
fast, and procoedsd to the bench quit© alone. 
She was trolicklng in the waves all by herself, 
and having a merry time when young EsculuplUs 
chanced to pass b /, strolling on the sands, prob¬ 
ably to gain a morning appetite. The girl 
w as suddenly taken with a cramp, saw a shark, 
or thought something dreadful was going to 
happen to her. for she gave a wild .shriek to the 
stranger for help. He heard the cry and saw 
the beseeching attitude, and, rapidly throwing 
off his coat sprang into the surf, entirely regard¬ 
less of hta best pair of summer pantaloons. He 
aided the girl ashore tenderly, soothed her 
fears, received her gushing thunks for having 
saved her life,” and accepted an Invitation to 
breakfast with her. Fortunate young doctor! 
She proved a good patient. They have been 
together ever since, and everybody says that the 
wedding this fall will be celebrated with all the 
the pomp and circumstance that Chicago is 
capahle nf.—L?Ucr to Bot(or> Herald. 
--■— 
A NOBLE WIFE. 
During the revolution in Poland which fol¬ 
lowed the revolution of Thaddeus Kosciusko 
many of the truest and best of the sons of that 
ill-fated country were forced to flee for their 
lives, forsaking borne and friends. Of those 
who had been most eager for the liberty of Po¬ 
land, and most bitter In the enmity against 
Russia and Prussia, was Michael Sobieski, 
whose ancestor had been king a hundred and 
fifty years before. 
Sobieski had two sons In the patriot ranks, 
and father and sons had been of those who had 
persisted In wbat the Russians had boon pleas¬ 
ed to term rebellion, and a price bad been set 
upon their heads. 
Tho Archduke Constantine was eager to ap¬ 
prehend Michael Sobieski, and learned that the 
wife of the Polish hero was at home In Cracow, 
and he waited upon her. 
“ Madam,” be .-aid, speaking politely, for the 
lady was beautlf.il and queenly, “I tblrk you 
know where your husband and sons are hiding,” 
“ I know, sir.’’ 
“If you tell me where your husband is your 
sons shall be pardoned." 
“ And shall ho safe ?” 
“ Yes, madam, I swear It. Tell me where your 
husband Is concealed and both you and your 
eons shall be safe and unharmed." 
" Then, sir,” answered the noble woman, ris¬ 
ing with a dignity sublime and laying her band 
upon her bosom, “be lies concealed here—In 
the heart of bis wife—and you will have to tear 
this heart out to find him,'" 
Tyrant as he was, the archduke admired the 
answer and the spirit which had Inspired it, 
and deeming the good will of such a woman 
worth securing he forthwith published a par¬ 
don of the father and sons. 
i «» ♦- 
THE CONQUERORS OF THE WORLD. 
The aim of Genghis was literally the con¬ 
quest cf the world—as he conceived it—and 
was nearer Us accomplishment in his own Lfe, 
and in that of bis two descendants, Kublai and 
Timur, than It bad ever been before, or is likely 
to be again. The empire which be created 
counted within its limits probably oDe-half of 
tho whole human race, and extended from tho 
Sea of Okhotsk, at the north-eastern extremity 
of Asia, overthe whole breadth of the continent 
as Jar us the Black Sea, Insane as such ambi¬ 
tion seems, It must have Us source iu some 
perennial springs of action common to our na¬ 
ture, since it constantly reappears with a cer¬ 
tain periodicity in successive ages—fortunately 
far apart—and in races still more widely sepa¬ 
rated by et hnographic characters and surround¬ 
ing conditions. Assyrian, Babylonian and Per¬ 
sian, Greek, Roman and French have each In 
turn sent forth heroes on this quest for univer¬ 
sal empire. With the Romans alone it became 
the insanity or ambition of a people, who for 
successive ages sought to be the rulers of the 
w orld, and actually founded au imperial sway 
over Europe from tlie Rhine to the Danube, 
and In Asia and Africa, uearly as far as Alexan¬ 
der had penetrated on either continent. The 
whole of Asia and Eastern Europe had not, 
however, been under the scepter of a single 
ruler until Timur swooped from his Mongolian 
eterpee, the heir of the first. Great Mogul, and 
camped in the heart of Hungary and Poland 
with a mixed multitude of tribes and nations 
for hls army .—Fortnightly Review. 
♦ • ♦- 
WHAT THE MENNONITES ARE. 
The groat Influx of Mennonites into tbiB coun¬ 
try, aud their settlement in colonies In the 
Western States, give a univereaL interest to all 
matters connected with their history, religlou 
and social customs. They derive their name 
from Mennon Symons, a contemporary of 
Luther, under whose guidance they were organ-' 
ized and Indoctrinated. In some respects they 
are like the Baptists, In others like the Quak¬ 
ers, in still others like themselves. They are 
opposed to war, and consistently refuse mili¬ 
tary service or to hold civil office- They decline 
to take oaths, in obedience to their Interpreta¬ 
tion of the Christian precept, “Swear not at all.” 
They hold It sinful to receive or pay a salary for 
preaching, and their preacher© are chosen by 
lot. There are no changes apparent in their re¬ 
lation.* to tho world and business. They toil 
from Monday morning to Saturday night at the 
avocations in which they were found when 
called to the work of the ministry. On the Sab¬ 
bath they rise before Immense throngs of de¬ 
vout people and solemnly toll them that now 
th?y are going to band over the truth just as 
they get it from ihe Holy Spirit, and “they feel 
to say ” thus and so. 
<-♦♦♦- 
Woman's Capacity.—S ome people will doubt 
this assertion by Prof. Beackik In a recent 
lecture:—“A womau Is naturally as different 
from u mau us a flower from a tree; she has 
more beauty and more fragranoe, but less 
strength. She will be fitted for the rough and 
thorny walk of the masculine professions when 
she has got a rough board, a brazen front, and 
hard skin, but not sooner." 
#aMratft Reading. 
BE THOU TRUE. 
Care net what others say. 
Be thou true! 
If they gowtp to betray. 
Be thou true! 
Be consistent and do right, 
For the truth make a good tight, 
Do wbat thou dost, with all thy might! 
Be thou true! he thou true! 
Let thy love he stneere- 
Be thou true! 
Only God hast thou to fear; 
Be thou true! 
Since our joys must pass away 
Like the dewdrops on the spray, 
Wherefore should our Borrows stay ? 
Be thou true! Be thou true! 
Friendship’s very hard to find. 
Be thou true! 
True love Is uot nl ways blind ; 
Be thou true! 
Time st last make* all things straight. 
Let us not resent—Just wait— 
But not trust too much in fate. 
Bo tbnu true! Be thou true! 
Like the Summer’s fragrant flower*. 
Be thou true f 
Like the April’s coming showers, 
Be thou true! 
Like the mountain looking high. 
And the river rolling by— 
Like the blue and arching sky, 
Be thou true! Be thou true! 
LIFE’S CONFLICT. 
Life is a conflict,—the weak against the 
strong, tbo bad against the good. The body 
must waste away or it can not grow ; the mind 
must become wearied or it can not rest. The 
soul must fight against temptation as men do 
for the prize. Let it not seem strange that 
peace comes by conflict. All these are things 
of daily experience and personal observation in 
this world. He who is iu earnest to lay hold on 
the crown of eternal life, need not be surprised 
or disheartened because every step of advance 
toward the heavenly prize must cost, effort. It 
is constantly maintained Iu the work of Chris¬ 
tian instruction that it Is good for man to tread 
a hard path, to encounter difficulties, to ex¬ 
perience disappointments and to suffer afflic¬ 
tion. The life of a good soldier of Jesus Christ 
is but a battle and a march. For him there is 
no rest, and no home till ho gains the better 
country—the home of the blessed and the pure. 
Wo do not think it strange thatthegoodthings 
of this world can only be secured by toil, sacri¬ 
fice and conflict; why, then, should wa bo sur¬ 
prised If the treasure of tho soul costs us our 
all ? Why should the path to heaven be made 
easy, and all the walks of duty resound with 
music and gladness, to allure unwilling feet? 
The deepest joy of tbo heart springs from the 
deepest humiliation. We, then, conclude that 
It Is beet to go down in the valley of humility 
and on tho field of cot flict, remembering that 
when we go down there will be a coming up 
•(gain. The conflict will soon be over; and If 
wo have achieved the victory at last, through 
the merits of Christ, we shall be called to enjoy 
the bliss of heaven and a life that Is free from 
coni! ct. 
•- 
WANTED-A MINISTER. 
A newspaper in Milwaukee, Wig., published 
the following among its advertisements the 
other day: 
Wanted— A rector for St. James’ Parish, 
Milwaukee, Wis. He must possess all the 
Christian graces and a few worldly ones ; must 
have such tact and disposition as will enable 
him to side with all parties In the parish on all 
points, giving offense to none; should possess a 
will of his own, but agree with all tbe vestry; 
must be socially inclined and of dignified man¬ 
ners; tffable to all, neither running after the 
wealthy nor turning back upon tho poor; a 
J mau of High Low Church tendencies preferred; 
must be willing to preach first class sermons 
and do first class work at second class compen¬ 
sation ; salary should uot bo so much of an ob¬ 
ject ss- the desire to lie a zealous laborer iu the 
vineyard ; should be able to convince all that 
they are miserable sinners without giving 
offense; each sermon must be short but com¬ 
plete In ltsolf—full of old-fashioned theology in 
modern dress-deep, but popular, and free 
from tbe eloquence peculiar to newly graduated 
theologians; should be young enough to be 
enthusiastic, but possess the judgment of oue 
ol ripe years. He only who possesses tbe above 
qualifications need apply. To such a one will 
be given steady employment for a] term oi 
years. For further Information apply to auy 
member of tbo congregation. 
•-- 
I know of but two beautiful things: the 
starry heavens above my head, and the sense 
of duty within my heart.— Kant. 
They who are most weary of life, and yet are 
most unwilling to die, are such as have lived to 
no purpore —who have rather breathed than 
lived. 
lx is never too late with us so long as we are 
still aware of our faults and bear them impa¬ 
tiently—so long as aspirations eager for con¬ 
quest stir within us. 
