>1 
fiSOOBE’S  ROBAL  BEW-YOBKER. 
w  ^  <ta  9 
that  Alma  Is  dead.  Perhaps  I  oiisrht  to  liave  sent 
Toil  a  dispatch,  so  till. t  rou  inltfht  have  ooroe  f.o 
the  funeral;  hut  I  thoujjhi  It  would  onLv  be  an 
iirinficessaiT  exrwnso.  Ttvish  you  eonid  have  seen 
my  poor  elnld  when  she  was  djIriK-.  Rho  rtfd  not 
speak ;  but  just  hi-foro  fdie  dlotl  she  dxed  her  eves 
upon  my  fime  not  vrttu  the  old  vacant  look,  but 
they  were  full  or  peace  and  love ;  and  oh.  Ki.i.kn. 
she  lookiMl  so  yrai  ef.i]  ]  j  feit,  repaid  for  always 
kwuiintr  her  with  me.  1  ah.aJl  i?o  to  her.  ere  lon^, 
.and  then  we  win  ro^'ethcr  watch  for  our  Jiujss's 
comlnfif— itic  dear  sister  and  dauKhter  who  has 
^rinccd  so  miieh  for  our  own  sake-s.  nearKLLKX 
Wimn?  w  Jro  to  ttie  ns>iam  and 
to  you  for  provldlne  me  a  homo  there.  i 
&brtllULcn—  you  como  for  me. 
“  o  mother,  forgive  me,”  cried  Ki.i.kn.  “  i  have 
made  a  great  mistake.  My  life  was  not  repre¬ 
sented  by  the  money  that  I  g,ave  for  poor  Ai-ma’s 
support,  UOD  be  merciful  to  me  If  l  liave  labored 
BO  unworthily  t  hat  the  only  re.sult  Is  the  compen 
fiivtlon  1  h.avc  received.” 
Kllkn  did  not  grieve  over  Alma’s  death.  How 
could  she,  believing  ns  she  did  that  now  reason 
ivas  .ag.aln  restored  to  her?  But  her  grief  was 
caused  by  the  tliought  of  the  duty  she  woidd  have 
left  undone  had  Alma  lived,  ot  one  thing  she 
was  sure—nothing  should  ever  again  tempt  her 
to  ncglccther  duty  to  hor  mother,  ir  Jack  really 
loved  her  he  would  uUow  her  mother  to  spend  the 
few  remaining  years,  he  had  to  live  Ui  their  homo. 
But  she  would  never  ask  it  ot  him.  If  lie  did  it, 
he  would  do  It  of  Ills  own  free  avlll.”  ’ 
"Oentleman  In  iho  parlor  lo  see  Miss  Bakton," 
amiounced  a  servant. 
hi.LK.v  took  the  letter  In  her  hand  and  descended 
to  the  parlor.  .1  ack  sat  looking  out  of  the  window 
and  did  not  notice  the  entrance  of  Eij.kn  until  she 
stood  hy  his  Hide. 
“  11 18  going  lo  bo  a  lovely  evening  for  a  drive,” 
said  he.  'I’hen  suddenly  perceiving  the  traces  of 
tears  upon  her  face,  he  exclaimed,  ”  What  is  the 
matter,  Kllk.s  ?” 
For  answer,  she  gave  him  her  mother’s  letter. 
•‘tVliy  do  you  grieve  because  she  Is  dead  7”  said 
he,  afiA'r  he  had  read  It.  "  She  is  noAv  much  hel^ 
ter  ort  and  the  wmria  has  lost  nothing  hy  her  leav¬ 
ing  It.” 
“  I’or  her  sake  I  am  not  sorry  she  has  gone ;  hut 
mother  will  bo  very  lonely  now  and  1  don’t  think 
I  ought  to  let  her  go  to  the  asylum,”  said  Kllen, 
as  she  stood  with  downcast  eyes,  slipping  the  ring 
back  and  forth  on  her  finger. 
“  Al.ma's  death  need  m.ako  no  dllference  about 
your  mother’s  going  to  the  asylum,”  said  he,  Im¬ 
patiently. 
“  She  will  never  go  as  long  as  1  can  work  and 
lake  earc  ot  her,”  Kj.len  replied. 
"Choose  hotwoen  us,  then,  if  you  love  your 
mother  better  than  .you  do  me — ” 
"  1  (lo  love  her  hotter.  Take  youi’  ring,  sir;” 
.and  she  hastened  from  the  room,  and  as  she  en¬ 
tered  the  hall  nearly  ran  against  Prof.  Comiton, 
WHO  hud  Just  pas, sod  by  the  open  window  and 
heard  the  terms  projKised  by  .Jack  and  the  uulck 
ro,sponso, "  T  do  love  her  better.”  Although  he 
was  sorry  to  have  acted  t.he  part  of  eavesdropper, 
yet  hla  spirits  rose  many  degrees  when  he  heard 
Ki.i.en  make  this  doclarallon. 
The  noxt  morning  before  the  pupils  began  to 
arrive,  Ku.bn  went  to  Prof.  goMnoN’s  oBlce  and 
a.skcd  him  If  a  teacher  liad  been  engaged  to  take 
her  ploe-c.  I'pon  hts  replying  In  the  negative,  she 
timidly  made  known  her  desire,  If  there  were  no 
dl3.satlsfactlou,  to  roWiln  the  situation. 
“  I  will  guarantee  you  the  slluaUon  as  long  as 
you  are  content  to  remain  with  us,”  .said  he.  “  We 
have  all  been  so  dlsheartonod  at  the  prospect  of 
losing  you  that  we  shall  know  better  how  to  ap¬ 
preciate  your  efforts  In  the  future.” 
“  I  shall  endeavor  to  bo  more  worthy  ol  the  oon- 
lldonco  reposed  lu  me,”  said  she.  and  turned  to 
leave  the  room,  for  she  could  not  keep  back  the 
tears  which  the  kindness  of  his  voice  had  caused 
to  Well  up  In  her  eyes. 
Mr.  Comi'ton,  desli-lng  to  make  known  his  sym¬ 
pathy  for  her  .suffering,  gently  detained  hei-  by 
placing  Ills  hand  on  lier  arm  and  aaJd : 
“  .AUss  Ba  rton,  tile  decision  that  I  unlntenUon- 
ally  heard  as  I  passed  that  open  window,  made 
me  very  happy .  i  could  not  bear  to  give  up  my 
falt.li  in  you.  Believe  mo,  notlung  in  life  can 
afford  you  so  much  happiness  as  your  devotion  to 
your  mol, her  and  sister.” 
,  « succeeding  day,  Ellen 
left  >V  obster  to  return  to  her  mother  the  unselflsh 
daughter  she  was  before  she  kucw  Jack  Cameron. 
In  the  car  sat  a  gentleman  with  a  sweet  and 
bliislilDg  little  lady  by  his  aide  and  even  the  most 
Ignorant  old  bachelor  of  the  ways  of  lovers  would 
not  fall  to  conclude  that  tbc‘.v  were  enjoying  their 
bridal  tour.  Ei  len  sat  ju.st  behind  them,  noticing 
their  tender  glances  and  thinking  of  the  differ¬ 
ence  between  her  .louruey  heme  and  what  It  was 
to  have  been.  Yctuho  was  conscious  of  feeling 
more;  contented  and  llght-hoai’ted  than  she  had 
felt  for  a  long  time  and  she  really  believed  that  It 
was  on  account  of  the  termination  of  her  engage¬ 
ment  witJi  Jack  Caukkov.  She  began  to  d(5Ubt 
that  she  ever  loved  him.  And.  .after  carenilly 
thinking  over  her  life  of  the  past  few  months  and 
trjdug  In  vain  to  analyze  the  subtle  feeling  termed 
Love,  the  only  deffnlto  conclusion  at  which  she 
could  arrive  was “  Love  and  Duty  ever  go  hand 
in  hand,  If  love  from  hcavon  cairic,  It  cannot  be 
love  for  which  people  sometimes  neglect  their 
duty.” 
the 
The  stage  came  rumbling  down  the  .street  at  the 
Oiiual  time;  yet, -so  absorbed  was  Mrs.  Barton 
with  the  past,  Bhe  was  not  conscious  of  hearing 
the  familiar  rumbling  of  Its  wheels  until  ft  once 
more  drew  up  at  her  gate.  Before  she  fairly  came 
back  to  the  present  and  was  wondering  what  It 
could  mean,  Ki.i.rn  carao  running  In  and  she  was 
clasped  In  her  arms. 
”  Where  is  .7 .ack  7" 
"Jack  didn’t  come,”  replied  Ellen,  with 
old  roguish  siiarkle  in  her  eyes. 
"Are  you  not  married?  Uaven’tyou  come  for 
me  7” 
"  No,  I  am  not  married,  Ves,  T  have  come  for 
you— but  not  to  take  you  to  the  asylum.  Whan  I 
go  back  to  Websler  at  the  cointacncement  of  tho 
autumn  term,  you  will  go  with  me  and  wo  will 
rent  some  rooms  and  irve  together.” 
Kllen  wag  again  the  strong  one  and  Mi’s.  Baiv- 
TON  cried  like  a  child,  as  though  all  the  grief  slio 
had  kept  In  check  for  her  daughter's  sake  must 
be  wept  out  before  this  new  joy  could  enter  her 
heart. 
Ellbn  returned  to  Webster  and  tbe  school¬ 
room,  content  with  her  lot  In  life.  The  burden 
that  she  relinquished  for  the  sake  of  Jack  Ca  mk- 
RON  was  now  a  most  joy-uffordlng  task,  it  was 
very  pleasant  to  be  welcomed  home  each  night  by 
the  love-light  In  her  moDicr’s  e.yes. 
As  the  weeks  went  by  fh-LKN  became  slowly 
conscloiif!  that  It  wn.s  not  wholly  a  newly-awaken¬ 
ed  enthusiasm  for  the  work  that  made  her  duties 
In  the  school-room  so  pleasant.  Yet,  when  Prof. 
COMi'TON  proposed  that  they  might  not  only  be 
partnora  In  promoting  the  welfare  of  tho  school 
but  also  partners  in  all  the  Joys  and  sorrows  of 
their  lives,  She  declined  To  enter  into  sUch  a  part¬ 
nership.  She  would  not  commit  that  fearful  mis¬ 
take  a  second  time,  although  her  love  for  Ciiacn- 
CEV  COMVTON  exceeded  the  feeling  she  once  pos- 
ses-sed  for  Jack  Cameron,  as  the  love  of  a  true 
heart  for  what  Is  true  OKoeedg  Its  love  for  what  Is 
false.  But  Mr.  Cojitton’s  facultj'  for  persuading 
was  fiiUy  equal  to  that  of  Jack  Cameron.  Ellen 
was  convinced  that  In  this  case  love  would  not 
conftl(^t  with  duty. 
You  never  seemed  to  suspect,”  said  ho,  "  that 
Tack  Cam  khon  caused  a  shadow  to  be  cast  upon 
my  life  as  well  as  upon  that  of  your  mother  7’> 
“7  never  suspected  that  I  was  at  all  connected 
^vlth  your  happiness,”  Ellen  rcidled.  "But  l 
often  wonder  what  led  you  to  care  forme  at  nnsc.” 
ItlUukltwas  tlio  story  or  youi-  devotion  Ui 
your  mother  and  sister.” 
"  But  I  (juouot  ooncelre  why  every  ot  her  feeling 
did  not  give  place  to  contempt  when  you  learned 
of  my  lutoMdod  desertion  of  them,”  j 
"AmoMie.r’s  love  Ls  not  icaseucd  by  the  mis-  I 
takes  her  child  commits.  The  love  that  cau.sfis 
man  and  woman  lo  be  united  as  hu.sband  and 
w’lfe,  Should  bo  as  t  rue  and  unselfish  as  a  moth¬ 
er's  lovo  for  her  child.  To  know  that  you  were 
happy  would  ever  have  been  the  greatest  desire 
of  my  life ;  and  my  cro.s8  would  have  been  my  in- 
ability  to  contribute  to  your  happiness.” 
.Mrs.  Barton  was  for  a  few  ye.irs  a  happy  hi- 
mate  of  their  home.  Then,  one.  vtmatlon  tlmo,  at 
the  close  of  a  bright  spring  day,  she  went  homo 
to  watc'h  for  her  Ellen’s  coming  in  the  Father’s 
house  on  high. 
MBS.  VANDEEDUTNOK. 
LETTERS  FROM  ROGER  FLOYD  TO  HOPE  STANHOPE. 
lap,  when  I  came  out  of  the  boat-house,  .shc  ap- 
proftched  me  timidly. 
Have  T  ever  given  you  any  Idea  of  the  rich  wid¬ 
ow?  She  married  at  sevenfoen,  and  now,  at 
twenty-two,  is  of  couj’se  in  the  first  prime  ot  her 
beauty.  She  is  tail,  quite  to  my  shoulder,  but  has 
a  mifjjton  way  with  her  which  makes  her  look 
small— In  fact,  when  I  liave  seen  her  In  the  house 
I  have  thought  It  owing  to  her  skirts  that  she 
looked  BO  grandly,  for  she  wears  them  traUlng 
after  her  like  a  court  flame’s.  In  the  boat  she 
always  appears  lu  a  white  walking  dress  (made 
short  enough  fo  display  the  feet  and  ankles  of  a 
Canova's  Venas)  and  abroad-brimmed  straw  hat. 
She  iijidcrstands  the  art  of  drc.ss :  everything  tells 
on  her.  T,  wJio  know  a.s  much  about  a  woman's 
appointments  as  a  kangaroo,  find  rnysclf  noticing 
the  set  of  her  gloves,  the  I'uffirjs  about  her  wrists, 
and  the  knot  of  silk  at  her  throat.  She  has  long. 
Sleepy,  hrown  eyes,  which  always  seem  a  shade 
too  pcnslvo  and  wistful  for  the  laughing  face ;  her 
forehe.ad  Is  low  a,iui:broad,  and  golden  hair  wavos 
and  crisps  off  from  It  In  a  manner  suggestive  of 
art;  but  as  I  have  seen  her,  on  warm  mornings, 
bare  her  hands  and  wot  her  hair  and  hrow  with¬ 
out  other  effect  than  making  tbe  gold  curls  more 
perfect  than  before,  1  suppose  nature  endowed  her 
with  this  wonderful  hulr.  Her  complexion  Is  pale, 
but  there  is  no  monotony  to  its  clear  pallor,  for 
she  Is  always  flushlUK:  and  paling. 
As  I  say,  .she  came  up  to  mo  timidly  that  nrst 
morning.  "How  do  you  do  7”  said  .she.  putting 
out  her  hand.  "I  could  not  sleep,  and  when  I 
hoai-d  Cora  telling  nui-se  that  you  were  to  take  her 
rowing,  I  jumped  up  and  dro.s»cd.  and  have  come 
to  Implore  you  to  let  me  be  of  the  party.” 
"  1  am  most  honored, ’’  I  rejoined,  kl.sslng  Cora; 
and  then,  handing  them  both  into  the  boat,  i 
pushed  it  off,  jumped  in  took  off  my  coat,  and 
struck  out  at  once.  Cora  chattered  madly  a.s 
usual.  1  willed  myself  to  be  unconscious  of  the 
coguetll.sh-looking  ilgure  in  tho  stern.  I  told  the 
child  stories.  l  laughod  at  her  lisps.  T  ilnaUy  lot 
the  boat  drift  while  J  took  her  on  ray  lap  to  hear 
her  repeat  some  French  verses  l  hod  taught  her 
the  day  before.  I  t  hink  Cora  had  good  time. 
Of  her  mamma’s  enjoyuneut  l  was  no  eeitaln 
and  When  on  our  reiui’n  she  asked  me  shc  miglit 
1 
m3'  churllshncRs  In 
notaddrcBHlugher;  so  when,  the  following  day, 
she  exclaimed  at  some  tvlid  roses  and  convolvuli 
by  Black  Bock,  I  leaped  from  tho  boat  and  secured 
them  for  her.  AVhat  do  women  mean  hy  blushing 
furiously  at  a  small  aitenUon  7  I  should  fancy 
that  a  widow  sutlatod  with  passionate  homage 
might  receive  an  oi’dlnary  civility  like  mlue  with¬ 
out  quickened  pulsatlom  To  say  I  tlo  not  ilnd  this 
intercourse  pleasant  would  be  a  pointless  false- 
hood.  Artlllclal  coquette  though  she  may  be 
later  In  the  da3',  Mrs.  Vanderdui'uck  Is  as  fresh  as 
dew-wa.shed  roses  at  six  o’clock  In  the  morning.— 
[To  be  continued. 
accompauy  us  next  morning,  r  assen^d,  feeling, . 
confe.ss,  a  little  ashamed  ot  my  churilsbneH.H  li 
THE  MULE. 
BY  MISS  E.  W.  OLNEV, 
The  June  ovenlog  was  chilly  and  damp ;  3'et, 
Mrs.  Barton  had  allowed  her  Are  to  go  out.  She 
had  wrapped  a  shawl  about  her,  thinking  that  she 
must  bo  saving  of  the  wood  that  Ellen  had  worked 
SO  hard  to  buy.  She  felt  very  sad  and  lonely ;  for. 
strange  as  It  may  appear  to  some,  the  death  of 
-Alma  caused  her  as  much  sorrow  as  the  loss  of 
the  brightest  and  sweetest  of  children  brings  to  a 
mother’s  heart. 
DContinued  from  page  414,  last  number.] 
HI. 
Rivekbend,  July  lo. 
1  AM  Just  getting  back  the  Impetuous  strength 
of  my  old  coUege  days.  I  buUded  wiser  than  1 
knew  when  I  accepted  this  aimless  sort  ol  life  for 
a  year  or  two.  My  illness  showed  me  the  fuiuity 
of  working  too  hard  and  Its  luuiity,  .Suppose  I 
spend  two  yeaj’s  here  and  then,  at  tlilrti',  go  out 
Into  practical  Ufe  again,  l  shall  have  gained 
strongth  and  interest ;  l  shall  soaroeli'  have  lost 
time,  n(3r  shall  l  have  weakened  m3'  power.g  of 
application.  But  you,  you  sontlmentsllst,  you 
tell  mo  you  are  glad  to  see  that  i  can  love  a  child ; 
that  you  doslre  nothing  so  much  as  to  have  me 
give  my  too  scir-suBtained,  too  self-burdened 
heart.  Into  aoinobody  elso's  keeping.  Who  wants 
It?  Men  of  opposite  experiences  and  separate 
destinies  from  mine  can  Lalk  or  hearts  and  eonso- 
latior*s.  still,  do  you  rememhor  our  wllhom  phi¬ 
losopher,  Burton,  when  he  quotes  fi'om  someliook 
of  curious  lore,  telling  of  a  boy  who  was  brought 
up  by  a  monk  never  to  heai’  of  women,  of  whose 
existence  he  never  dreamed  until  one  day,  when 
he  was  about  eighteen,  he  met  three  girls  in  a 
wood.  On  recovering  from  the  vision  he  inquired 
what  manner  of  things  they  were,  and  his  pre¬ 
ceptor  inlonned  him  they  were  fairies.  A  year 
after,  when  he  wo*  asked  what  was  most  beauti¬ 
ful  of  all  he  had  liitherto  seen  in  the  world,  he 
replied  AYlthouthesluUon,  "The  fairies  that  I  saw 
last  year  In  the  wood.” 
Now,  Holt,  the  most  beautiful  sight  1  have  ever 
seen  in  the  world  I  see  now  oveiy  morning  at  six 
o’clock.  Mrs.  Vanderduynck  and  her  little  gtri 
come  down  to  the  river  banl?J  and  r  put  them  in 
the  boat  and  row  them  up  to  blade  rock  and  back 
before  my  hair-past  seven  o'clock  breakfast.  It 
all  happemed  In  this  wise.  1  began  by  taking  liv 
tie  Cora  out.  l  carried  her  one  morning  across 
the  meadow  in  my  arms  10  Water  Lily  pond,  and 
we  pulled  our  arms  lull  of  lilies;  tmd  then  l  Jet 
her  sit  on  the  side  of  the  skiff,  and  dabble  her  Ut- 
tle  white  feet  In  the  water  all  the  way  home. 
This  sort  of  thing  went  on  for  a  week ;  then,  four 
mornings  ago,  1  found  Mrs.  Vanderduynck,  the 
mamma,  sitting  on  the  bank  with  Cora  on  her 
Tue  mule  is  the  most  unliealthy  animal  In  the 
world — unhealthy  to  have  around. 
He  Is  continually  possessed  of  a  3’earnlng  desire 
to  streU'Ji  himself— especially  nis  hind  legs. 
We  have  known  this  yearning  to  make  trouble 
In  several  families. 
He  Is  also  possessed  01  great  healing  power. 
No  man  ever  sees  a  mule  kick  him. 
The  man  is  usually  sel'ACtl  with  obscure  visions 
Just  at  that,  juncture. 
We  have  seen  a  man  get  up  after  a  mule  had 
kicked  him  (very  narely  though)  and  swear  with 
both  hands  npUficd  th.athe  didn’t  believe  tho 
animal  had  stirred  a  pog — he  looked  so  immovable 
and  unooncernod. 
A  mule  is  a  very  ‘‘quick’’  animal. 
Great  quantities  of  this  substance  lie  hidden  be¬ 
neath  his  Wo-ealkB, 
As  a  great  explorer,  the  mule  Is  equal  to  Stan¬ 
ley, 
“THE  PENNY  YE  MEANT  TO  GI’E..” 
There's  a  Dmny  tale  of  a  stinsi'  man,  [worse, 
WTio  was  none  too  Rood,  but  mlsrht  have  been 
W  ho  went  to  church  on  a  Hnnday  nm-ht. 
And  carried  alontf  his  wcll-flUed  imi-sc. 
Mlicn  tbe  sexton  came  wltii  hig  beRg-ing  j.latc 
The  church  was  tint  itim  mitli  the  candle’s  hfrht ; 
The  BtinRj'  man  fumbled  aU  thrntierh  his  purse, 
And  chose  a  coin  by  touch  and  not  by  sight. 
It  8  an  odd  thing  now  that  Kuiueas  should  be 
So  like  unto  fieiinics  in  shaito  and  size, 
I  Rive  a  penny,”  the  stfnRj-  man  said ; 
The  poor  must  not  gifts  of  pontiics  desjiise.” 
Tlie  penny  fell  down  wilh  a  clatter  and  ring  ! 
And  back  In  his  seat  leaned  the  stingy  man. 
"  The  world  is  so  fall  of  the  poor,”  he  thought 
“  I  can’t  help  them  all— I  give  what  I  can,” 
Ha,  ha  f  how  the  sexton  smiled,  to  he  gure. 
To  see  the  golden  guinea  fall  into  tho  plate 
Ha,  ha  !  liow  the  stintey  man's  heart  was  wrung, 
Perceiving  his  blunder,  but  Just  too  late  ! 
No  matter,”  he  said,  “in  the  Lord’s  account 
lhat  guinea  of  gold  Is  act  down  to  me. 
They  lend  to  Him  \vh.i  give  to  the  poor  ; 
It  will  not  80  bad  an  investment  bo." 
Na,  na,  mon.”  the  chuckling  seibin  cried  out- 
•’  The  Lord  is  na  cJieated-IIe  kens  thee  well ;  ’ 
He  knew  it  wag  onlj"  by  accldcjit 
'Jhat  out  o’  thy  lingers  the  guinea  fell ! 
•'  He  keeps  an  aiTconnt.  na  doubt  for  tbe  pair ; 
^But  in  that  wicount  He.’]]  set  down  to  thee 
Na  mair  o’  that  golden  guinea,  my  mon, 
'J'hau  tbe  one  bare  penny  ye  meant  to  gi’c  !” 
There’s  a  comfort  too.  in  the  little  tale— 
A  serious  side  as  well  aa  a  Joke ; 
A  couifort  for  all  the  generous  poor, 
In  the  comical  words  tho  sexton  spoke. 
A  comfort  to  think  tliat  the.  gocsl  Lord  knows 
How  genermis  we  really  desire  to  be.. 
And  will  give  us  credit  in  his  account 
For  the  pennies  we  long  ••  to  gi'e.”  [Anon. 
- 
THE  SANHEDEIN. 
be  always 
stand  bj'  a  mule  does  not 
3\’bcu  be  goes  exploring  for  a  man 
finds  blin. 
'I'be  safest  place  to 
exist. 
Tbe  mule  Is  a  very  headstrong  beast. 
He  Is  likewise  exceedingly  beelstrong.— [Jos/j 
Billmgs. 
BOOKS  RECEIVED. 
From  Scbibner,  Armstrono  &  Co.,  New  York : 
Saub-Soucl  berles.  Men  and  M  anners  of  Amer¬ 
ica  One  Himdrcal  Y’cars  .Ago.  By  ir.  E.  Scud- 
der.  [Clotb.— pp.  aao.)  Price  fi.so. 
T.  B.  Petbkso.v  &  Brotmkk.s,  Pbllada. : 
consuelo.  By Geoi-gc  Sand.  [Paper.— pp.  254.] 
Price  <5  cents. 
Massacre  of  Glencoe.  By  G.  W.  M.  Rey'nolds. 
[Paper.- pp.  205.]  Price  75  cents. 
E.  P.  Dctton  &  CO.,  New  York: 
Roadside  Poems.  EtUted  by  Lucy  Larcom. 
[Clotb.— pp.  ‘268,]  Boston ;  Jas.  K.  Osgood  A 
Co.  Price  $1. 
S.  C.  Grigcs  &  Co.,  Chicago : 
Two  Years  in  California.  By  Alary  Cone.  Il¬ 
lustrated.  [Cloth.— pp. ‘23S.]  Price  $1.75. 
James  R.  Osgood  &  Co.,  Boston: 
The  Complete  Poetical  l\’ork.s  of  Henry  w. 
LongfeUow.  Illustrated.  Centemiial  Edi¬ 
tion.  [Paper,- pp.  2s7.]  Price  Fl. 
Baker,  Pratt  &  co..  New  A’ork : 
Tbe  Pilot  and  his  Wire.  By  Jonas  Lie.  Trans¬ 
lated  by  Mrs.  Ole  Bull.  Chicago :  S.  C.  Griggs 
A  Co.  [Cloth.— pp.  336.J  Price  $1.50. 
Magazines  for  Jolt: 
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THOUGHTS  POE  THINKERS. 
To  repent  of  sin  Is  as  great  a  work  of  grace  as 
not  to  sin. 
As  If  you  could  kill  time  without  injuring  eter¬ 
nity.— I’hoiWig. 
Spiritual  liungerings  and  thlretlngs  are  satisfied 
only  with  spiritual  things. 
God  esteems  men’s  deeds  by  their  minds,  not 
their  minds  by  their  deeds. 
Tub  true  ChilstJan  Is  ever  ready'  to  receive  on 
himself  the  bloiv  aimed  at  the  cause  of  Christ. 
Prayer  Is  the  opposite  of  anxious  care,  b(?cause 
in  the  prayer  man  commits  the  care  to  Goa.-ois. 
hau»en. 
SATAN  promises  what  ho  never  gives— lasting 
pleasure;  and  gives  what  he  never  promises— 
everlasting  pain. 
Some  pei'son.s  pass^ielr  wretched  day's  like  so 
many  stvlne ;  they  never  look  up  to  heaven  till 
God  lays  them  on  their  back. 
Eminence  Is  not  reached  by  a  frantic  struggle. 
The  road  to  Ir  Is  much  more  commonplace.  He 
that  would  dazzle  mmsl  first  dig. 
Surely  they  do  not  truly  love  Christ,  who  love 
any'thlng  more  than  Clirlst.  Grace  is  given  to 
trade  with,  it  is  given  to  lay  out,  not  to  lay'  up. 
Do.s-’t  live  a  single  hour  of  your  life  without 
doing  exactly  what  ought  to  be  done  in  it,  and 
going  stralglit  through  it  from  beginning  to  end. 
If  my  Lord  would  come  and  take  me  to  himself, 
my  joy'  would  be  fii:st  that  I  would  be  forever  near 
him,  and  then  lhat  I  sliould  never  wound  him 
again  by  sin.— a  non. 
A’qur  dlspo.sltlon  will  be  suitable  to  Lhat  which 
you  most  frequently  think  on :  for  bhe  soul  is,  as 
It  were,  tinged  with  tho  color  and  complexion  of 
its  own  thoughte.— .Va/T//s  Antonins. 
IIk  who  loveth  his  wife  like  himself,  and  honor- 
eth  her  even  more  than  Mruself ;  who  leadeth  his 
sons  and  his  daughters  in  the  path  of  Integrity, 
and  who  provides  lor  their  settlement  In  early 
life;  to  him  may  be  applied  the  Scripture  pas¬ 
sage,  "  Thou  Shalt  know  that  peace  shall  adorn 
thy  tent.” 
From  Smith’s  Bible  Dictionary  we  learn  that 
the  Sanhedrim  (accurately  Sanliedrin)  was  the 
supreme  council  of  the  Jewish  people.  In  the 
Mlshna,  or  collection  of  .Jewish  laws  and  tradi¬ 
tions,  the  SanhedrJu  Is  Uaced  to  the  seventy  elders 
as-soclated  with  Mos(?s  In  tho  government  of  the 
israeJItes,  Num.  11:  i«,  17.  otbei-s  hold  iiiat  the 
council  arose  after  tho  reiuin  of  the  Jews  from 
Babylon.  From  the  New  'J'esUimcnt  we  learn  tliat 
It  cofislslcd  of  chief  priests,  elders  and  scribes 
Matt.  26;  .57.59;  Mark  15;  1  ;  Luke  2‘2:  Ctt;  Acls 
5 :  21.  'I’he  number  of  Its  members  is  usually  given 
as  3eveni3'-on«'.  While  in  session  the  Sanliedrin 
sat  In  the  form  of  a  half  circle,  the  eldest  one  of 
the  uumbe.r  on  the  right.  He  was  called  ••  rather 
of  the  house  of  judgment.”  ’I’hks  council  acted  as 
a  Judicial  botjy'  and  tm  un  adrnlnistratj  vc  body,  in 
the  arraignment  of  false  prophets  and  in  dealing 
with  other  imporuni  matters,  .so  R  arraigned 
Jesus,  Peter,  John,  Stephen,  Paul,  as  Impostors, 
teachers  of  erjor,  deceivers  of  the  people.  At  this 
time,  however,  Iw  jurisdiction  did  not  extend  fur¬ 
ther  than  the  an'e.st,  trial  and  condemnation  of 
the  one  convicted  of  vlolaUou  of  ecclealasUcal  law. 
The  execution  of  tho  sentence  belonged  to  the 
Roman  procurator. 
