MOLLnra uunrn# 4 Dat, so eagerly «- cipafcd by allthe youngpwfoin the ou§©, hftd coK&6* and Aunt Mollte s&t ytk* fire in her own room, reading a 7 Valentine. The postman, a short time ;< before, had left a number of valentines, •< kmong them one for Aunt Mollie. It tiad been handed around from one to "'"'lanother, speculated upon, laughed over, and then Mrs. Norcross (without -rrf^oticing the exchange of glances be- $ween her mischievous daughter, Fan, -fmd Sam Reynolds, Fan's most devoted djuimirer, and also the aider and abet tor of all her jokes) called a servant 7§nd sent the missive up to Aunt Mol- , .lie's room. The young people were all so busy lut tucti OWXk Vtubuu&66 th&ii < AUtit ollie was left to read hers in peace. jShe looked long at the direction, as •many of us do, wondering who wrote . ft, before she broke the seal, but, as 4ghe read it. the color came to her <dheeks and the light and sparkle to her 4yes, which shone as they had not done Jbr many a long year. , What she read was no valentine, but # "letter from Col. Sargent. He wrote Dfcat he had long loved her, but, having had a sister ana niece to support, had been unable to marry; but now he was free, and he entreated Aunt Mollie, if ahe had any love for him, and was will ing to marry him, to let him know it at 4he earliest opportunity. The letter fell from Aunt Mollie1 s fin- frs as she gazed into the fire, while r thoughts flew back into the past. How well she remembered when she first knew Col. Sargent; he was a friend of her brother-in-law, and was at their house nlniOat 6v6vy u»y; is many in their excursions and gayeties he had been her escort. Handsome and agree able, kind and attentive, was it any wonder, she thought, that she, a girl Of twenty, had lost her heart to him? She thought over all their pleasant Intercourse so many years ago, and 'tried to remember some word or act %hat had betrayed a warmer interest "than the brotherly affection he had al ways professed for ail the family. Alas! irfie could remember none--nothing but 4he sharp pang of sorrow in her own %eart when he told them all he was go ing away to India to be gone for years, fie had always been her hero, and al though she had schooled herself to in- •difiterence, and had never betrayed her .-secret, and on his return from India, a few years ago, had met him with only a§ friend1 s welcome, yet she knew now %hat had made all other men seem Bmall in her eyes. Aunt Mollie had refused several good offers, to the surprise of her friends, and was now an old maid of forty, with mephews and nieces growing up around •tier, quiet, reserved and laay-like, and .^somewhat domineered over by her eld est niece, Fanny Norcross, as wild but <*s good-headed a little thing as ever lived. Aunt Mollie looked into the fire, and became thoughtful. "What has made him love me, I wonder, and when did it begin, and "•why did he keep it to himself, and treat >me so indifferently* startling me with An offer P" It was all a puzzle; Aunt Mollie had to give it up. She read the Colonel's letter again; there was no mistake about it; he said plainly he loved her, and wished to marry her, and would like an immediate answer. " Well," said Aunt Mollie to herself, " why not? Why shouldn't I marry him? If he loves me as he says, why (Shouldn't I accept the happiness offered *me? Oh, if this had only happened ;years ago!"1 and Mollie gave a sigh as t jf-fhe thought of the past lonely years; >l»ut the loneliness would all be gone *now; there was some one who loved .< her. So Aunt Mollie wrote her answer to " Col. Sargent with a bright smile and to lush that it was a pity no one saw. She told him she would be his wife; and not only that, but with a candor most women'think unnecessary, she told him >thow happy his letter had made her, »and how long she had loved him, and "^finally that she would be at home the next evening, and happy to see him. Then, ringing the bell for a oUivaat, -she sent the letter to the Fostoffice, At tea-time, when Aunt Mollie made Hier appearance, her valentine had been ; 5.1 orgotteK in the more absorbing topics -of the sleigh-ride for that evening, and •m, tea-party for the next, so she could think her own thoughts undisturbed. The next evening they all went off to their tea-party, after Vainly coaxing i Aunt Mollie to accompany them. •' Mollie, you had better come with lis," said Mrs. Noreross; "you will be >«o lonely." But Mollie, with a guilty blush, de clined. They left her, and she sat down ' to wait for Col. Sargent. Col. Sargent received Mollie's letter in due course of time, and was--ihun- -der-slruck! " She had received his letter, had she?" Why, he had never written to her. "She loved him, did she?" Well, he didn't want her love. " She would be his wife, would she?"1 Well, Col. Sargent rather thought not. What did he want with a wife? The Colonel had no words strong enough to express his astonishment at receiving Bucn a letter from Aunt Mol iie, but when he read it again some flimmering of the truth dawned upon iro. He saw what a cruel joke had been played upon Aunt Mollie, and he had now no words strong enough to express his indignation against the of fenders. & "Poor little Mollie!" he said, "it •will kill her when she finds it out. Then his thoughts went back to the P5?'8*" a pretty girl she was when I went to India, i hated to say food-by to her then. Ah! if I had only ad money then I wonder if I should have asked her to marry me?" The Colonel sat a long time lost in thought, from which lie suddenly ,; aroused himself with the remark: " I'll do it. Why not?" And putting on his hat and overcoat he started for 11* ;the residence of Mrs. Norcross. We will not intrude upon his inter- ^ ' view with Aunt Mollie. It was appa rently satisfactory to both parties, for >/'• when at a late hour he said good-night, ? ' they both looked supremely nappy, and the Colonel's handsome diamond ring " sparkled upon Aunt Mollie's linger. . said Fan, the next morning, to the colored boy, as he passed the hot cakes around at their late breakfast, "who called to see me last evening?" "Nobody, Miss Fan." " Oh, dear, how neglected I mail did nobody call?" "Only Col. Sargent, Miss Fan; but he asked for Miss Mollie, and he stayed all the evening," said Joe. who was a privileged character. . Fan laid down her knife and fork, and, for the first time remembering the valentine, turned crimson. Could Aunt Mollie have told Col. Sargent What she had done? She never doubted that Aunt Mollie knew she had helped to w r i t e i t . • ' . - Aunt Mollie, remembering last even ing and the diamond on her finger, nuiva iJiiO ilbU tUUVCOltTU AOi £1 tiUltt, smiled and blushed, and Mrs. Norcross looked at both in astonishment. As soon as Joe had left the room she ex claimed: !' " What is the matter with yon both? Fan looks confused, knd yoti,: Mollfe, look so happy. What has happened, and what has Col. Sargent to do with it all?" "Only this," said Aunt Mollie; " that Col. Sargent wrote to me, and asked me to marry him; that I accepted him, that he spent last evening with me, and that this," holding up her hand, "is my engagement-ring." ' This was too much for Fan. burst ing into tears, she exclaimedi "Oh, mother, mother! the Colonel did not write that letter at all. Sam Reynolds and I wrote it just for a joke, beeause Aunt Mollie said it was so many years since she had received a valentine. I never thought she woul4 \ answer it." Mrs. Norcross was more angry with Fan than she ever had been before, and, after questioning and scolding her, sent her sobbing to her room for the remainder of the day, to reflect On the enormity of her offense; and then Aunt Mollie, who had listened, but who had not spoken one word to Fan, took off her engagement-ring, and asked Mrs. Norcross to see the Colonel when he called, and explain everything to him. "And tell him," said poor Aunt Mollie, with quivering lips, "that I acknowledge his great kindness to me, but I cannot accept such a sacrifice." Then Aunt Mollie went up to her room, threw herself face downward on the bed, and when the Colonel called a few hours afterward, she was in a burn ing fever. I think myself the fever must have been in her system before, for fevers are not developed so rapidly. But Aunt Mollie was ill for weeks. Mrs. Norcross did not enjoy her in terview with the Colonel, as it was her child who had made the trouble; but the Colonel was very kind, made ex cuses for Fan, said he would not give Aunt Mollie up, and took the ring only that he might have the pleasure of put ting :t again on Aunt Mollie's finger. It was a long time before Aunt Mol lie could see him, and longer still be fore the Colonel eould make her believe he really loved her. But she did at last consent to marry him, and that naughty, mischievous Fan is a prime favorite in the Colonel's house.--2?/tza Graham, in N. T. Weekly. inseettroroas Plants. Dr. Francis Darwin, a son of the em inent Naturalist, has lately reported to the London Linmean Society the results of prolonged and careful observations upon insectivorous plants for the pur pose of determining the effect of ani mal food upon their growth and de velopment. June 12, 1877, 200 plants of Drosera rotundifolia (Round-leaved sundew) were set in soup-plates filled with moss. A low, wooden partition divided each plate in two halves, and all were then plaoed under a gauze case to prevent the access of insects. Every few days the plants in one-half of each plate Vere supplied with ani mal food, in the form of one or two bits of roast meat--weighing each about one-fiftieth of a grain--which were placed in every leaf. The plants in the other half of each plate were wholly deprived of animal food. This process of "feeding" the plants in one- naif of each plate, and "starving" those in the other half, wag continued until the first days of September. Long before this, however, the fed ftramdAtloit ft* * We were met, some days ag5, tiy a gentleman who made inquiry for a young man named J. C. Essington and nis sister Clara, who, he said, were liv ing somewhere in the Bradford Oil Dis trict, and have been for some time. He stated that he was from Lowell, Mass., and that he was here for the purpose of finding and identifying the parties above-named, and then made the following statement: About twenty years ago the parents of these young people lived in the City of Lowell, ana were counted among the class of her best citizens, their father being one of the largest, importers and dealers in dry-goods in the place. He had a btother who had followed the sea for a Kioat many years, and who was not thought to be over-scrupulous as to his life or conduct, but wholly bent upon amassing a fortune at whatever cost. This was what the people generally thought, but his brother and immediate friends seemed to have confidence that he was all right, but misunderstood. About the time of which we are writ ing the brother persuaded the father of these children to sell out his stores and business and join him in the purchase of a vessel with which to carry on a trade between Boston and the citfes of South America. They made one trip which was very successful, and started upon another immediately after the mother of these children had been buried, the children having been placed in the care of friends in whom the father had full confidence. From this voyage the father never returned, but, in about two years, his brother came back and made the announcement that his brother had died while in the Port of Rio Janeiro of yellow fever, and ex hibited an oflieial announcement of the occurrence, along with a permit to in ter the body in one of the cemeteries of the city. He also produced a will, which he saia had been made by his brother shortly before his death, in which he be queathed to him all his property on the condition that he would maintain, edu cate and care for his children until they should arrive at twenty-one years of age, and at that time give to each one oF them $5,000. There being no one to object and the story looking plausible enough, the will was admitted to pro bate and the uncle of the little children, who were then mere babies, came into possession of the entire ship as well as the other property of the brother. Aft er some years, and when the children had grown enough to be but little trouble, it was his custom to take them with him on his voyages, as he was then trading between Boston and the Bermuda Islands. Upon his return from one of his trips he made the state ment that he had found p, home for the little ones in Philadelphia, where they would have every attention and superi or advantages of education. This was believed, and all went along quietly for a year or two, when he received a let ter from some one--no doubt an ac complice--stating that the children had both died of diphtheria. This, it seems, aroused some suspicion, and the f riends, of the children determined "to "keep a watch upon the movements of the un cle, whom they had come to look upon a6 a criminal. It turned out, however, that they had not long to watch, as he was arrested, tried and convicted of some act of piracy, and was sentenced to solitary servitude for life. About six months ago the unfaithful guardian found himself about to die, and dis closed the whole career of crime in which he has been so successful, and told the prison officials that the chil dren were not dead, as he had stated, but were living at Bradford, but did not say what Bradford. The gentleman, after searching for some days, and not hearing anything from them there, will return and make further and fuller search in this city and vicinity. The property left by the dying man is said to exceed $300,000. --Bradford (Pcu) Era. .----- :-- The Heinousness of Pecuniary Crime. THE murderer must have a cause for murdering, the brute must have a vic tim near, out the forger, or the swin dler or the cheat is always provoked and always ready. There is always property to be obtained, and he is al ways wanting it. This reason is unanswerable, and is plants showed that they were benefiting I always quoted by statesmen as sufficient by their meat-diet. From July 17 it j answer to any plea for reducing the UfO (J AiOOVltT AYTI nn^ Vk*T A /I ? Avtwnn r>/\ i n I M -u ... A . „ 1 x ?i. * _ was clearly evident, by the difference in the green of the leaves and in the num ber and strength of the flower-stalks, which were the " fed" and which the " starved" plants. To quote from the report given in Nature, "The advantage gained by the fed plants was estimated in many ways. Thus, on Aug. 7, the ratio be tween the number of 'starved' and •fed' flower-stalks was 100:149.1. And, by comparing the number of stems act ually in flower, it was clear that the starved plants were losing the power of throwing up new flower-stems at an earlier date than their rivals. In the middle of August the leaves were counted in three plates, and were found to be 187 on the starved and 256 on the fed side--or in the ratio of 1004- 136.9." When the seeds were ripe, early in September, the flower-stems were gathered, and the plants in the plates were taken from the moss and washed. The result of counting, measuring, and weighing the parts of the two sets of plants in these plates is given in the following list. It may be mentioned that the number of the starved and of the fed plants was fairly equal: Ratio between the number of starved and fed plants... . v* 100;101,2 Ratio between r.oirht* of the plants, ex clusive of flower-stems 100 Total number of flower-stem* --100:16M> Sum of the heights of the flower-stems.. 100:169.9 Total weight of flower-stems 10J :281.9 Total number of capsules -- .100:194.4 Average number of seeds per capsule-... 1C0:122.7 Average weight per seed. 100:167J Total calculated number of seeds pro duced 100:241.5 Total calculated weight of seeds pro- duced 10Q 379.7 The fed plants show a conspicuous advantage in all that relates to the seeds and flower-stems. The great difference in the total weight of the seeds is explained by the store of nitro gen laid by in the albuminous seeds. These experiments settle the doubt as to whether insectivorous plants are benefited by a supply of amm&l food, either of meat or of insects. penalties on pecuniary crime, but it is not, as some writers of recent letters seem to fancy, the only justification for the laws. They forget or have never thought what a scoundrel an educated thief, whatever branch of thieving he pursues, must necessarily be. He, al most alone among criminals, must per form his crimes in cold blood. He must, whether he is forger, embezzler or only cheat, plan his crime down to its smallest details, coolly, soberly, with deliberation and with atl his faculties pt their utmost stretch. A man cannot forge in a passion, or under terror, or when nearly blind with drink. He must carefully foresee the consequences of his act, must be careful to avoid all haste or passion, and must be utterly indifferent to any suffering he may inflict, however dis proportionate the gain to himself. The larger his operations the greater intel lect they require, the more cool and composed must be his judgment, and the greater the amount of torment the innocent will suffer. The defaulting banker, the lawyer who bolts with his clients' money, the forger who ruins a firm, the embezzler who destroys a fam ily-, constantly inflicts as much suffer ing as the most violent of the brutes whom the Magistrates, moved by some reasoning wo have never been able to follow, so frequently let off with inade quate sentences. We abhor the brute who half mur ders his wife, but he is scarcely more cruel than the defaulter who deliberate ly does acts which send whole families previously decent and respectable to the workhouse or the asylum. We de test the brutal rough, but is he more brutal than the agent who quietly swindles an aged clergyman out of his all, and sends him to die and his chil dren to live as paupers upon public charity. We are all agreed to hang the murderer, but is it so much worse than the man--we hive known the case--who lor years deliberately eats up old , servants' savings, and leaves them, 'in ddzens at a tfrnc, to suicide, starvation or the Union? There is not a criminal lawyer in the country who does not know of cases where swindlers have destroyed whole families, have wrecked the happiness of dozens of persons, and have in flicted sufferings which in their long duration are as much worse than physi cal pain as niisgovernment is worse than war, merely that they themselves might lead lives a little easier than they otherwise would have done. A fraudu lent banker, a swindling attorney, & successful forger, scatters misery broadcast, misery as acute as any ever inflicted by the rough who kicks his wife half dead, or beats a casual passer by into a long and dangerous illness.-- London Spectator. ^Alexandria and Its Monuments. ; ALEXANDRIA was commenced by Al exander the Cirftat. R O -??3, the site having been selected on account of its natural advantages as a great harbor. The building of the city was carried forward after Alexander's death by Ptolemy Soter, and afterward again by his son. Continuing, under successive monarchists, to increase in wealth and population, it at last, in its greatest clays, numbered 500,000 people. In the third century of the Christian Era its glory commenced to wane, until, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, the population was not 10,000 souls. Under Mehemet Ali, in the present cen tury, the tide again turned, so that now Alexandria shelters not less than 225.- 000 inhabitants. The city has two harbors, or ports of entry, known as the iNew and the Old- The New Port is used only by small na tive boats, the commerce of the place being confined to the Old Port, which is better protected by bre akwaters and free of rocks and shoals. Directly on the shore of the harbor, in the eastern part of the city, stands the obelisk whose mate, known as Cleopatra's Needle, was lately embarked for Lon don. The people here, and some au thorities, designate both by the name Of Cleopatra's Needle, and there is no reason why it should not be so, as they are exact duplicates. The one still here is standing, while the other was almost buried in the sand, in its fallen position, until removed by the English. The spot from which they took it re mains exactly as when the disinterment was completed, showing the situation of the column as it lay imbedded. While the exact origin of these obelisks is shrouded in obscurity of early Egyp tian history, they were most probably first set up by Thothmosis HI., in front of the Temple of the Sun, at Heliopolis, somewhere about 1350 B. C. Heli opolis was located about five miles from modern Cairo. Among the hieroglyphics carved on them are the names of Thothmosis HI., Barneses II. and Sethi H. As it very often happened that Egyptian rulers erected temples, tombs and obelisks to glorify their own names, the Cleopatra Needles are attributed to the first King 'whose name is cut on them. On the question of their removal to this city tne authorities disagree. One writer asserts they were brought here during the reign of Tiberius, early in.the first century, and placed before the temple of Caesar. Another historian assigns their removal to Cleopatra, who set them before the Caesarium which she built to celebrate the birth of her son by Julius Cassar. The latter statement would probably account for the origin of the names of the shafts, which other wise is unknown. Both are of red Syene granite, which closely resembles that now exported from Scotland, though larger in the grain. The Needle which left for London is 66 feet in height, and the remaining one 71 feet. The diameter at the base is the same in both, 7 feet 7 inches. The shorter one, lately taken away in the novel "Cleo patra," was presented to England by Mehemet Ali, to commemorate the successful issue of the campaign which drove the French from Egypt. A re port is now in circulation here to the effect that a party of Americans have Purchased the second obelisk from the [hedive, with a view to dispose of it at a profit to some city of the United States. The Story even goes so far as to name the amount paid, £100,000. Another remarkable monument in Alexandria is the so-called Pompcy's Pillar, the shaft of which is one piece of polished red granite, 73 feet high and with a circumference of 29 feet 8 inches. The pedestal and capital of the column are of later origin, but serve to increase the whole to a total height of 99 feet. No explanation is given how the relic acquired the name it bears. The Greek inscription states it was erected in honor of Diocletian, who conquered Alexandria A. D. 296, after a destructive siege of eight months. Close to Pompey's Pillar is the Mo hammedan burying-ground, and while there we were fortunate enough to wit ness the arrival of a funeral. The box containing the body was covered with a clotli and borne upon the shoulders of four men by means of two. poles tied lengthwise. Following or crowding around the bearers came a concourse of upwards of a hundred people of both sexes, nearly all of whom joined in a moaning concert. When the grave was reached a great pressure ensued to «ee the body deposited, which seemed to be done "without any service. Our dragoman did not advise venturing too close, as the natives are very sensitive to any intrusion from the Franks at times when their religious or other rites are in progress. Although we waited some time they continued to crowd around the grave, suggesting that the operation of tilling was taking place. Tne graves of the poorer classes are marked by a semi-circular mound of mortar, about two feet high in the center, and extending the length of the body. The richer people have stone mausoleums, in which tne dead are in terred under the floor. The arrange ment and Appearance of the cemetery are far better than the living condition of the people would justify expecting. Their estate here if of the lowest char acter, and I hope we rimy be able to discern the improvement in it which is said to exist at Cairo.--Cor. Philadel phia Bulletin. in --He that calleth his brother fool i* danger of getting his nose pulled. '"«{<{ j »#!')• *Vii? T giOM. JTSOST.BOUNJ). 1 . . x -*Nr: trtf .hun * " Ice and snow, praise ye the Lord." . OH Earth, poor Earth, locked fast and bound la ohiunn of ice and drifted snows-- • How shall deliverance be found For thee? What strong hand shall anetbae Thy fetters, letting loose the sound ; < Of laughing waters; from the ground Calling the^violet and the rose? t ' *?'<! How peacefully, how quietly Thou waitest undaunted, nndisraayedl , Is there some secret hidden from me-- Some message in the storm and shade--< •> Which tells of recompense to be For such brave souls as bide like thee The Lord's good leisure, unafraid? < Oh heart, poor heart, whose frozen springs! ;1 Melt not for ray of star or sun. But lie in icy folded rings rvi^icoo vrtijf OlllF5 Whose hopes fled forth on rapid wiatfs And vanished with sweet vanished things Ere yet the Winter was begun-- ¥>•' tf !fi Learn this great patience, and abide Courageously the bitter day; ill<> . lXllBt the Etftnifl] I/iwp war Though still thy Summer should delay. ' t >' Hope is deferred but not denied: , . , : • r • And ns the deepest snow-drifts hide The blossoms of a coming May. --Susan Coo!i>lq«, in Sunday Afternoon fot Mar. Sunday-School Lesseli. / • ! > , Trnsre QUARTER. 1878. Mcb. 3.--Alaa'Persist'nt Wick- , , u edneiii.Tr^. 2^^.25:19-27. Mch. 10-- Hez'kiah's Good Reign. 2Chron.2fc>: 1-11., Mch. 17.--Hezekiah and the Assyrians 2Chroi»^2: 0-2L JJi.ch. M„--Manaseeh Brought to ^Repentance . 2 Chron SS: fr-18, Hch. 31.--Review of the Lessons for the Quarter* The Tyranny of Public Opinion* Who is Mrs. Grundy?" asked a lady of a friend. Generally well-in formed, she had somehow missed this item of knowledge, and her friend said in reply, " Why, you know Mrs. Grun dy very well; everybody is a slave to her dictates." Her other name is *' folks." She is an uncrowned despot, and makes us all her subjects, and it really seems as if we who boast so much of our freedom bow down to her authority with the most profound obeisance. " What will folks say?" is question that strikes terror to the heart of the stoutest, and Mrs. Grundy reigns supreme. » For the reason that on the ladies of society, rather than on the -lords, de volve the courtesies and duties of social life, feminine obsequiousness to what "folks will say," is most marked. It is almost beyond belief what inconve nience and bondage ladies undergo to keep in the fashion and in the good graces of Mrs. Grundy. The wear and tear of health and herves which many women endure patiently for the sake of obedience to her mandates, is an awful waste of the faculties of soul and bodv. Mrs. A. racks her brains, and ex hausts her physical energies in En deavors to make both ends meet in a manner Satisfactory to Mrs. Grundy. Her daughter who goes to a fashion able school, must have as many puffs, plait- ings and bows as the heiress of a half-a- million, because, wnat will folks say if Alice does not keep up in style? Nor is Alfred any more independent than Alice. He dares not we»r "a last year's coat or a hat not in the mode, even if his tailor must wait long for his pay, and his hatter be served like wise. He has not the courage to re fuse the glass of wine offered at a din ner-party, though he knows that wine is a mocker; neither does he decline the cigar presented by a friend, lest it be intimated that he is afraid to smoke. Both Alice and Alfred find it impos sible to act out their highest and no blest conviction3, for lear of what folks will say. They have been brought up by Christian parents, but perhaps would listen to a sneer on religion without a word or look of rebuke for fear they might be considered pious; for true courage in everyday life is rarer than bravery on the battle-field. Manly and womanly independence of what folks may say need not be disa greeable singularity, Or disregard of good manners and the usages of socie ty. There is a polite, but decided, way of saying no--and there is a justifiable conformity in non-essentials. There is also a wholesome and invigorating de cision of character, which jwaces social, moral and religious questions above the opinion of the world, and far be yond the transitory approbation of this mysterious, but pp^weiiui, sovcrdj£p<rr;. The Wutchman. Parents and the Sabbath-Seheol. THE Sunday-School begins to be weakened and lose force as an agency for good, just at the point when it is unwisely allowed to diminish parental responsibility for this form of religious training of the children of the house hold. lii how many Christian homes does this responsibility end with the exacting and half-petulant inquiry, made regularly enough to the child at the last moment, each .week, " Have you got your Sunday-School lesson?'1 thus reducing the precious and golden opportunity afforded by these lessons to a level with day-school tasks. The opportunity is precious, because the parent who may be the least imagina tive and most engrossed in the cares of the world, if religion reign in heart and life, has the occasion given in the Sun day-School lesson to sit down with the child, and, in a mutual purpose of learning a story that is never old, gain ing access to the inner life of your boy or girl. If they see you prize what is gained from the Sunday-School lesson, how much more meaning it has for them ? An injunction becomes an in vitation. The "go" is changed to " come." Far too many Christian pa- rerits, it is to ,be feared, allow Sabbath after Sabbath to pass without the least concern or direct interest being mani fested by them in the Sunday-School. It would be unwise, as parental neg lect, if this course were pursued toward the studies and instruction of the young learner in the branches of week-day study. But how much worse the neg lect when it reaches and affects the soul interests of the young. Home in fluence extended to Sabbath instruction has a double value. It helps con scientiousness in pious parents, when by word and by example they not only t4point to Heaven," but "lead the way." The Sunday-School, among.the features of its Divine mission, has never suggested its own substitution m: for the home ittfttjeade and Househol teachings of the parent. It 'is m loss to parent and child when this lapscil,- . is allowed. How it chills the home?"" side of Sunday-School Work, making dry and arid a part of the field whert^ these jplants are being nurtured for Hi A service below and for the Kingdom! ' above. Study the Sabbath-School les son with your children. Take youu heart and your prayers into the work! and Heaven will bless the Sabbath- ,$(|hoolto your home.--Christian rr • & ""Golden flair at the Chanceh „ • • • -- * A FRIEND living in'Philadelphia ha% ® sweet, golden-haired little daughter,; aged three years, who is devoted to Tallier, and endeavors, after her bab#,1'^ fashion, to govern her actions by hi^wsi own. ^ This nabit causes much amusetp t: ment in the family, though the littl%|jj one seems quite unconscious that she is., L the of it all. Not long ago the child attended Di-^3 * vine service, for the first time, with he father, and sat quietly and gravely i the pew till the close of the sermon. I,w chanced to be Communion Sunday, an^ao / Mr. ----, being a communicant, wen|* v* with others toward the chancel, uncon-L *]*. scious that his little daughter was folfh lowing him. As he knelt and bowecf his head, the babv of three years beside him also knelt and bowed her swee# face upon her tiny hands. Those whrf n saw the torching sight were affected al- most to tears, and nobody attempted to " remove the small communicant. Not until my friend rose to return to his ' seat did he discover the child, who also' t arose, and. slipping her little hand in , his, walked gravely toward the pew. The clergyman, speaking of it after* - ward, said it was, in his opinion, th« most beautiful sight he had ever seen. --Editor's Drauer, in Harper*8 Maga zine for March. 1 "r,i 1 1 ' i i - i - • ' i i i ' ' ' Biograpkfteal Sketch of the New Pop«u - The Rome correspondent of the Lon- Hi'l' don Times, in a letter to that journal, j, under date of Feb. 14, spoke as fol- lows at Cardinal Pecei, eiiaibe elected 1 Pope: 1 " Pecci is tall, with fine head, high , forehead, narrowing at temples, long ' face and straight features. He has a' large mouth, prominent chin, cheerful, ; open countenance, and large, well- - shaped ears. His face reminds one of : , Consulvi, the renowned Minister of Pius VH. He has a fine, sonorous voice, great dignity, even austerity, of manners in public life, but privately is affectionate, unassuming,, sociable and : witty. As Camerlengo, ne has been at ' 7 the head of that party which, with- 1 out formally renouncing the right of the Holy See, acknowledges the wis dom of submitting to the decrees of Providence, accepting what seems to; be irrevocably accomplished facts. " The general opinion is that, for' learning, taut, energy, dignity, amia bility, real moral worth and sincere* piety, the Sacred College could not find ajnore deserving Pope than Car dinal recci. At Perugia he followed the same policy recommended by the lato Cardinal Sforza. At Naples he advised good Catholics to fulfill their duties as citizens at the municipal and provin cial elections, even when the clerical press, professing to interpret the wish of the Vatican, enjoined the policy of abstention. "Cardinal Pecci spoke with great effect against the proposal for the re moval 6f the Conclave from Rome, and other measures advocated by the Reactionary party. He enjoys the con fidence and support of the Liberals, or . at least a reasonable majority of them, in the Sacred College, and plays the same part as was sustained by Cardinal Gizzi in the Conclave of 1846. " Cardinal Pecci's private life, at all periods, is above reproach. He has considerable literary talent, and has written poetry. He never has had in-r tercourse with functionaries of the pres ent Italian Government, but is es teemed by them all, and those with whom the necessity of his duty bringat him into contact are perfectly oharmed with him." A Biade of Grass Seventy Feet Higli. THK bamboo, as those who have stud ied the elements of botany know, is counted among the grasses. In its native climes it grows to the height of from thirty to fifty feet, and some spe cies occasionally attain an altitude of eighty <$r even a hundred feet. It is . certainly remarkable that the plant should grow seventy feet high in an English hot-house; but this has recent ly occurred atSyon House, the mansion of the Duke of Northumberland, near Twickenham. The London Gardeners' Chronicle says: " The veracious author who compiled for the children of all time the fairy story of • Jack and the Beanstalk' un fortunately omitted to tell his readers .in what clime was situated the locale of the remarkable growth which he chronicles, or what kind of bean "it was that thus enabled Jack, by its extraor dinary vegetable development in a sin- fie night, to ascend to a new and un-nown world. What plant is there that combines marvelous rapidity of growth, direct ascension and strength of wood so fully as does the bamboo of India, the land of tradition and of fable? certainly not ascending to the clouds in a single night, but produc ing an upward development that is truly astonishing in its rapidity. If the fabled Jack had the skill in climb ing that most modern Jacks possess, he would have found it comparative ly easy to have worked his way to the summit of that wonderful bamboo mast now to be seen in the tropical house at Syon, which is as big round as a good-sized scaffold-pole, and about seventy feet in height. This superb shoot has developed a growth of over sixty feet in three months, and having reached the top of the glass dome has now been forced to bend its point downwards, as though, like Wolsey, it had reached the highest point of its career long ere its course was done. This wonderful stem is at least twice the size of any other shoot from the same plant, and deser7es to rank amongst the marvels of vegetation in our exceedingly ungenial and eocentric clime.""