THE BUBAL HEW-YOBKEB 
FEB. if 
sin Emily were domiciled in a hospitable mansion 
In Belgravia. 
One June morning, TTarry Pori a was In his stu¬ 
dio painting and talking at Intervals to a friend 
who was a sad loafer, hut atoned for It by buying 
a picture now and then, and who was at present 
lounging on a sofa smoking a Turkish pipe, the 
flavor of which pleased him. 
“ Well, how do you get on ? pretty well, I hope," 
said the loafing friend. “Excuse me mentioning 
it.” 
Harry was not, t he least discomposed. “ I am,” 
said he. “certainly doing hotter this year than I 
have ever done before; this year, when it. does 
not matter, and I have only myself to provide 
for." 
“ Pon’t talk like that, old fellow. You made 
your mother’s declining years comfortable, and 
have no cause for regret. As the old ties break, 
we form new ones. Ajyrrqtog, are you going to 
marry the heiress?" 
“ What heiress?" 
“ Mercenary man' Have you so many in your 
eye? Why, Miss Nugent, of course; everybody 
lias settled it for you.” 
Perhaps everybody has decreed that I omgoing 
to have the Koh-l-hoor set. In a scarf pin. Poor 
Miss Nugent! I Imagine that she expects to do 
bettor for herself than marry a third-rate canvas- 
spoiler." 
“ Well, you are pretty Intimate at all events.'’ 
“I have met her out at parties, certainly, and 
we talk together a good deal, having many sub¬ 
jects of Interest In common. But the Idea Is ri¬ 
diculous; she Is a good deal loo rich," 
“That Is a fault most fellows would look over,” 
observed the other, laughing. 
“I would not." said Porta. “Fancy Its being In 
your wife’s power to tell you whenever you have 
a row, that hut for her you would be a pauper!— 
that your bouse Is hers; your servants, liers; 
yourself, a thing she has bought. No, thank you r 
“My dear Lucifer, you exaggerate. If you are 
getting as much for portraits as I expect you will, 
a couple or years lienee, you will be able to marry 
any woman, and preserve your Independence. 
How sharply your Academy picture was snapped 
up this year! It wss sold before-hand, wasn't,!'.. r' 
“ No; and I put an extra vugunt price on it, out 
of a sort of bravado, because Jones tried to cheap¬ 
en It, one day, before It, was flnlslied! What a 
funny animal the publicist The price that pic¬ 
ture fetched brought me more orders in a week 
than I have ever had In a a year.” 
“Perhaps the merits of the picture, not the 
price, did that," 
“Not a bit or it; it, Is not half so good as my 
Ariadne.” 
“Oh, you have sold that too?” 
“ Yes; and to the same person at least the name 
Is the same; Needham, Miss Needham.” 
“Another heiress?” 
“ I don't know. A good customer, anyhow." 
“ Well, good bye, 1 have finished your chi¬ 
bouque and am due presently at a classical con¬ 
cert, By the bye. will you come? I have a spare 
ticket. Perhaps Mias Nugent will be there.” 
“No, thank you; I bate classical music. Be¬ 
sides, I must work. Oood bye.” 
When a man announces that he really must 
work, an Idle fir, Is coming over him; It is the 
equivalent to the “ 1 won't give In" of one who is 
Just beaten. Directly he was alone, Dorla sat 
down In the place hla visitor had vacated. 
So people bilked, did they? Was there any¬ 
thing In her manner to justify outsiders to think 
that she would have him Ji he asked her? Wliat 
did it matter? lie surely would not. ask her. But 
was It prudent to go to places where he was sure 
to most her? He must avoid her 111 the future. 
She would go back to the country In a lew weeks 
and then he would forget all about her—“out of 
sight, out or mind." lie had made a good begin¬ 
ning by declining to go to the concert. 
Poor Dona must have been very far gone when 
he tried to deceive himself. He know well that 
Sybil Nugent disliked classical music as much ns 
he did and would certainly not be there. In truth, 
he had hardly admitted to himself how far his 
happiness was bound up with the love of the girl. 
He was not. a susceptible man; Ills affections were 
stronger th in Ills passions and bOLh were well 
under command of his reason, lie certainly would 
not have allowed himself to get so fond of Sybil 
hud he known her pecuniary position, lie had 
met her at different houses where ho was a ha¬ 
bitual guest, and from her retiring manners and 
simple stylo of dress, formed the conclusion that, 
she was a pool’ girl, rather patronized hy the 
friends With whum she was staying. He was one 
of those men who never eatch floating gossip till 
long alter a Is stale news to everybody elso; and 
when at last he learned that she was wealthy, 
and that he was rising rather in estimation as a I 
successful heiress-hunter, he felt the wound go 
deeper than his pride, and he had a good thick 
coating of that too. Yes, he had too much pride 
but very little vanity, and lack of the latter qual¬ 
ity originally continued him in his idea that .Miss 
Nugent was poor, probably dependent. Would 
she listen to him. draw to htinit It were other¬ 
wise? To him, a poor, little-considered artist, 
with uo prospects beyond his art r As for Sybil, 
she entirely reciprocated lus affection, and had 
made up her mind, at a very early stage ol their 
acquaintanceship, that ir she did not marry him 
she would never marry any one else, ot course, 
in her case, there was a splee or romance about 
the matter. Nhe got to know and like him before 
she caught his name, which had been slurred 
when she was Hrst Introduced to mm; and so the 
coincidence struck her very forcibly when sho 
suddenly and accidentally learned that he was 
the very man whose studio she had examined In i 
so unceremonious a fashion, and whose Ariadne i 
she had purchased In Cousin Emily’s name. She 
felt perfectly convinced that he loved her and 
wondered why he did not say so. 
Are there any limits to human perversity? Lov¬ 
ers are tom asunder by poverty every day. but 
here were a couple who positively failed to come 
together simply and only because one was rich. 
It was not an ordinary love affair; they had never 
talked of lore. But their tastes, Ideas, sympa¬ 
thies agreed so admirably, that they seemed pos¬ 
itively made for one another; and to friends who 
knew them tooth, It. seemed more than natural, 
almost necessary, that they should marry. If of 
t he same sex, they would have been fast friends. 
Had their ages been very dissimilar, or had they 
tooth passed the age of the passions, they would 
still be drawn closely together. These cases are 
very rare; but they occur, and when two such 
people meet and marry, they attain a degree 
Of happiness not often vouchsafed to mortals. 
And yet these two never met again, Dorla stuck 
to Ms resolution and avoided Sybil, who wentbick 
to the country and took to Ritualism and fantas¬ 
tic embroidery. 
Another May came round, and Harry Dorla had 
four portraits—three Indies, one "of a gentleman” 
- hungon (be Academy walls; besides, a classical 
; study, which sold for a high price. He excelled 
In llgure-pal tiling; but figures must, have fore¬ 
grounds and backgrounds, and ho was not quite 
satisfied with bis landscapes. So, when the sea¬ 
son waned, he packed his knapsack and started 
off on a solitary walking and sketching tour, for 
the purpose ot studying English skies, streams 
and trees. A wandering life of that kind having 
great attractions for him and the autumn being 
remarkably line, the month which he Intended to 
spend out. of town expanded to nearly three, and 
It. was towards theend or October that, lie entered 
a pretty village, which took his fancy bo much 
that he stopped, though It was early in the nfier- 
noou and he meant to have gone some miles fur¬ 
ther. “I must hnvi, that church-porch and the 
avenue,” lie et-lo to himself, as lift turned into the 
old-fash 1 '; tied Inn, where he left, his knapsack and 
om*\vU bis dinner, and then went out again with 
his portfolio and water-color box, t,o utilize the 
couple of hours or remaining daylight. 
“What Is the name of this place?” be asked 
the landlord. 
"Nutting, sir, Nutting,” replied tho host, as¬ 
tonished at the depths to which human Ignorance 
could sink. Nutting! That was the name of the 
vlllago where Sibyl lived. She had often t alked 
about It, and said what a pretty sketch canid be 
made from the churchyard, and how often she 
had taken It and had failed to satisfy herself. 
What a strange coincidence, that he should havo 
wandered there I It looked like a fatality. 
“ You arc a stranger In these parts,sir?" added 
the landlord. 
“ Yes; bull have often heard of Nutting from 
a friend who knew It very well. There is a pretty 
place called owlsnest, here, If it is the samo Nut¬ 
ting that 1 mean.” 
“Yes, sir, yes; that’s light. Shall you want 
anything more before the bar closes? You see, 
we are early people here,” 
uorta did not sleep much that night. He had 
made up his mind to avoid the heiress altogether 
and yet, wow finding himself close to Her, the 
temptation to call was very strong. Iu the morn¬ 
ing, It occurred to him that the struggle might be 
unnecessary; Miss Nugent had very likely gone 
rrom the neighborhood. 
“WhoIs living at Owlsnest now7" ho asked, 
when ho went down, 
“Miss Needham, sir, for the present,” was the 
reply, which acted on him like a cold water 
douche, for ho had not. believed In his theory of 
Sybil’s probable absence one Jot. Al. any rate, 
tliero was no need for DJm to hurry away. By 
the bye, what name did tho landlord say 7 Need¬ 
ham? Why, 11 was Miss Needham who bought 
Uls Ariadne aud whose patronage seemed lo have 
been the turning point in bis career and had 
brought, him such luck. He would Certainly call 
and introduce himself to a lady ot such excellent 
taste and discrimination. Ji did not occur to lum 
that Needham was by no means an uncommou 
name; he was too glad of an excuse to enter the 
house which Sybil had Inhabited. 
lie spent the morning In sketching the scenes 
which she had often spoken or with enthusiasm, 
in the afternoon he called at Owlsnest and sent 
In his card. 
Miss Needham would sec him presently, If he 
did not mind waiting a few minutes. Uo was 
shown into the dining-room, where the first ob¬ 
ject which met his eye was bis own Ariadne, hung 
in the spot which was most tavorubly lighted In 
the room, other pictures of Ills ornamented the 
walls. 
Presently a lady dressed tn deep mourning en¬ 
tered the room. Dorla Introduced himself and 
explained that being by accident In the neighbor¬ 
hood, he did not like to pass without paying his 
compliments to so kind and liberal a patroness, 
“The pictures wore bought in my name, it is 
true, Mr. Dorla,” said the lady; “ but there Is no 
harm In your knowing now that my poor friend , 
was the real purchaser." 
“Indeedsaid Dorla, rather mystified. “A 
friend, yon say”—• 
“A friend of yours also, Mr. Dorla; my dear 
Sybil reckoned you as one." 
“Sybil—M las N ugent—was the secret purchaser 
of my pictures!” cried Dorla. “Oh, how blind I 
was’ But you said your poor friend! Has any 
misfortune happened to her ? You are In mourn¬ 
ing. she is away”— 
“Have you not heard?” gasped Cousin Emily, 
turning very white. “Poor Sybil three months 
ago caught the typhus fever in a cottage. It was 
a very deadly type and she only lived three days.” 
The shock may bo conceived. From erroneous 
reasoning he had missed tho chance of a lifelong 
happiness. And how often, from false shame and 
false conceptions, Is such the case? Wc will not 
explain thu.fccllngs of Dorla. They may bo guess¬ 
ed at. 
One of the best pictures he has ever succeeded 
: In painting represents a vlllago churchyard. In 
which one grave is conspicuous. He has been 
offered a fancy price for It, but It Is not for sale. 
I doubt If It will leave Ills studio during his life¬ 
time. 
■ -»«♦ - - 
VALENTINES. 
[Bee Illusaration on page It#.] 
Fkw people .have any Idea of the origin of t no 
present custom of sending Valentines on the 14tb 
day of February. Indeed, the histories differ 
widely as to how It originated. St. Valentine, 
who was according to some ecccslastlcal writers 
a bishop, according to others a presbyter, was 
beheaded at Romo In tho reign of the Emperor 
Ci.ACiura (270), and was early canonized. Wn eat- 
ley Bays of him that “he was a man of most 
admirable parts, and so famous for Ids love and 
charity that the custom of choosing Valentines 
upon his festival (which Is still practised) took Its 
rise from thence.” others derived the custom 
from birds being supposed to select their mates 
on this day; others from a practice prevalent In 
ancient. Rome at the festival of tho Lupercalln, 
during tho month of February, when, among 
other ceremonies, the names or young women 
were placed in a box, from which they were taken 
by young men aa chance directed. 
Tho pastors or the early Church, finding It Im¬ 
possible to extirpate this pagan ceremony, con¬ 
cluded to change Its form. It was the custom on 
the eve of Feb. I t, St. Valen.lne‘8 Day, to have 
tho names or a select number of one sex puttnto 
some vessel by unequal number of the other; 
and thereupon every one drew a name, which was 
tor the time called his or her Valentine. The 
custom of choosing Valentines existed very early. 
Presents of gloves, garters, and Jewelry were 
common as Valentines. 
-»■»» 
WHEN MEN ARE AT THEIR BEST. 
Dr. Beard states that from an analysis of the 
lives of a thousand representative men In all the 
great branches of the human family, he inadotho 
discovery that the golden decade was between 
forty and fifty, the brazen between twenty and 
thirty, the iron between Ulty and sixty. Tho su¬ 
periority of youth aud middle life, over old age in 
original work appears all the greater when we 
consider the fact that alt the positions of honor 
and prestige, professorships and public stations 
are In the hands of the old. Reputation, like 
money and position,Is mainly confined to thoold. 
For it is ifttcd that men are not widely known 
until long after they have done the work that 
gives them their fame. Portraits of great men 
are delusions, statues aro lies. They arc taken 
when men havo become famous which, on the 
average, is at least twenty-five years after they 
did the work which gave them their rame. Orig¬ 
inal work requires enthusiasm. Men are at their 
best at that Hmo when enthusiasm .and experi¬ 
ence are almost evenly balanced. This period, on 
the average, Is from thirty-eight to forty. After 
this the law ts that experience increases, but en¬ 
thusiasm decreases. 
■-A-A-A- 
OLD FAMILIES. 
A Very searching Investigation was carried on 
a few years ago In the North of England by two 
families who were searching up their respective 
ancestry. The strife was great between them, 
each one determining to lookback into antiquity 
furtherthanthe oilier, one or thefamillus, whose 
name was Spencer, employed a u artist to palm an 
hlslorlc scene, representing the building of the 
ark and the loading up of the ship hy Noah and 
Ids sons with Its multifarious anti various cargo. 
On the gang-plank leading to the deck ol the ark 
two men were seen rolling up a large box, on one 
side of which was painted in large letter's, “Rel¬ 
ics, insignia and papers belonging to t he Spencer 
family." This was considered a coup d'etat hard 
to beat; but the other family, determined not to 
be outdone In the antediluvian pretences of their 
name, prepared at great cost and research a re¬ 
cord of their antiquity. In describing t he exploits 
of one of their ancestors at a very early day, who 
was represented as a man of some authority, this 
remarkable passage occurred, “During this year 
Adam and Eve were driven out of Paradise."' 
--- 
A DEPOSED KING. 
The deposed King of Oude, who held sway In 
India before the English took possession, is con¬ 
siderably advanced In years, and as Is usually tho 
case with persons, great or small, who aro out of 
business, is decidedly discontented with bl 3 pres¬ 
ent lot- 
The palace and grounds provided by the British 
Government for the deposed monarch extend one 
mile on the river bank in Calcutta. The main 
palace Is In the center, and there aro smaller pal¬ 
aces, numerous magnificent stables, and a hun¬ 
dred or more buildings occupied by tho ex-King a 
retainers. The grounds are beautifully orna¬ 
mented, and exhibit many curious aud Ingenious 
devices. 
But. notwithstanding all this, the ex-King or 
Oudc Is really a prisoner of State, and this situa¬ 
tion he recognizes to the full. He Is gruntod an 
allowance equal to £24,000 a year by the British 
Government; aud he not only spends that, but 
has frequently become deeply Involved In debt. 
>alrkt| 
THE NARROW HOUSE. 
A narrow borne, but very still It seemeth; 
A silent home, no stir or tumult here. 
W ho wins Ibnt pillow of no sorrow dreamstb, 
No whirl Mr echoes jar bis sealed ear. 
The tired hand lies vny calm and quiet 
The weary toot no more hard paths will tread. 
The great world may revolve in clnsh and riot. 
To its loud summons leaps nor heart nor head. 
The violets bloom above the tranquil sleerer. 
The morning dews fall tten(l.\ on the prass; 
Amid the daisies kneels the lonely weeper, 
He knows not when her lingering footsteps pass. 
The autumn winds sigh softly oVr his slumber. 
The winter piles the snow-drifts r.’cr nis rest; 
He does not earo the flying years to number, 
The narrow home contents its silent guest. 
No ha tiled hope ran haunt, no doubt perplexes, 
Ne parted love (he dcc-p repose con chafe, 
No petty cure can irk, no trouble vexes. 
From misconstruction his hushed henrt Is safe. 
Freed from the weariness of worldly fretting. 
From pain and failure, bootless toil and strife, 
From the dull wretchedness of vain regret,ting, 
He lies, whose course has pasted away from life. 
A narrow homo, and far beyond (t lietli 
The land whereof no mortal lips ran (ell; 
IVe strain mir sad eyes as the spirit fileth. 
Our fancy loves on lieaven’n heigh! hills to dwell. 
God shuis the door, no angel lip uncloses, 
They whom Christ raised no word of guidance said. 
Only Ihc Cross speaks where our dust rejtoers, 
“ Trust Him who calls unto His rest our dead" 
-- 
SCIENCE AND RELIGION. 
Thrue is a scorning conflict In some minds be¬ 
tween these two great powers, but how there can 
be Is a mystery to mo. Tho more ono learns of 
science, the more he must see and fpi l that- there 
was a Creator; that all the wonders of nature, 
tho formation or the earth, tho beauties of tlio 
heavens, tho V a truing, health-restoring, life-giv¬ 
ing sun—all those never same by chfthcc. They 
were made by our Creator, who Is Gen overall, 
and always has been, and forever shall be. 
Mankind never happened upon this earth, neither 
were t hey developed from any soulless animal, if 
anyone believes tho Bible.it is very easy to prove 
this; but there aro some who think nothing of tho 
Bible or Its teachings. 
Then why Is it, that 60 many, through all the 
ages past, have believed It, have suffered for the 
sake of preaching tin: Gospel, have died for the 
glory of Jesus, trusting to the very last In the 
proclous promises of the Bible, almost seeing 
Heaven opening for them, and glorying that they 
oro allowed to bo martyrs for Christ's sake ? 
Is there now, lias there ever been, any other 
cairn, of any description whatever, that gave Its 
followers the power In tile for ir—to die rejoicing, 
certain of a glorious, blissful future? I think not 
1 never heard of any. Is there any bcok but tho 
Bible, that could be read and re-read, preached 
from year after .year, studied, written upon, and 
still be exhaustion? Is there any oilier book 
that can comfort tho hopeless, cheer the broken¬ 
hearted, rejoice with happy ones, and find some¬ 
thing satisfying for every one who earnestly seeks 
its help? 
Of course, the evolutionists think men have no 
souls. Wn are born, wo live, we dit— that la tho 
end. Then why has every heart such a thirsting 
for immortality? and those who aro wlcked-wlio 
have no hope of reaching Heaven—why do they 
dread to die, H that Is to bo the end of all? To 
them ltwould he an everlasting sleep—they would 
know nothing of It. AhJ they fear tlm fife tocome 
as Christians sometimes long to leave this world 
and cujoy a life or perfect bliss above. 
If there Is nothing to li—this religion that helps 
and comforts thousands to-day-lf this Is unreal 
■where shall wc go to suUsry the longings of our 
souls, that never will bo satisfied without wor¬ 
ship—something dlvtne and unseen, hut always 
proving a help to those that trust undoubtingly ? 
Nor to Spiritualism, about which there Is nothing 
spiritual—a religion of ghosts and furniture mov¬ 
ing. Not to the lecturers, who are declaring that 
there is no Gon and no truth In the Bible. Ir you 
take these away, what can you give In return— 
what better off are you ? “A nation, a country 
or a community that does away with u 3 Sab¬ 
baths'; that kicks Its ministers from tho pulpit, 
or cuts their heads off; tears down the churches 
and builds breweries In their places, fulls as far 
from tho place they wore intended to occupy as 
Lucifer did, when he fell from the hlghts of 
Heaven to the very gates of hell 1" 
Let us thou keep our precious religion, teaching 
Its truths toothers in every way in our power, 
'lho Psalmist says, “I shall be satisfied, when I 
awake with Thy likeness.” We shall be satisfied 
then, sometime,not here, but when we “awake.’’ 
Then death Ls not an everlasting sleep; there is 
to be an awakening—a glorious resurrection, but 
In what form Will It bo? “With Thy likeness.” 
What more can we ask 7 A perfect satisfaction, 
a glorious awakening, an everlasting home In 
Heaven, with the likeness of our blessed Saviour, 
Royalton, N. Y. Eudora. 
--A -A A- 
He who says education, says government; to 
teach ls to reign; the human brain ls a sort of 
terrible wax that takes the stamp of good or evil 
according to whether an ideal touches It or a claw 
seizes it .—Victor Hugo. 
---A ♦ A- 
Love Is circumspect, humble, and upright; not 
yielding to softness or to levity, nor attending to 
vain things: ltls sober, chaste, steady, quiet, and 
guarded In all the senses .—TJiomas a Kempts. 
