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sanooi UNN AMTONIO #te Sijroor Asteolo, mmjr * time nnd o«t P,t , .. I* 4«r BUM mSHMiued m» g« • AHoud my money*, ind said •(•' I took more interest In a year . S:>: Dan dear bttoclpal WM come tf v., s?,^ ®T HiHl liaf I borne all dose mtt ,* A im'ienf shrntr; '* &*' . ' Yon cill me pad names-- - M hpeliever, cut threat, unn lit*pm» - .ill-: -..- Veil, den. It van now appeared H§§ Sltfe„i Dot yon need mine helnpl * Y n come to me nnd yon ssM, •; I"- - *"Aljit"i Hhyl'ck. o;d poy, I vand " 1 ke to borrow dree «lousMici dnoatS St, T.II a^xt Snndny!" You said so! ] V' - You d>'t ha' hooted mo f Und spurned me trom your threslioML §§!ii/%.iM Like a don! Money is yonr »uit, denr § iV,- By (coodnenn, yon hsf more ohMk • • A a hook airent! Should I not aaid-fc Ha* a d >(r money? 'y'W i>5 „ , Didn't it been impossibility , r ^ ,-a * Dot a enr should lend yotl t) \> it Dree dousand <lncat8? * • , iweWs "New Shak-apeare" •, '• ^ - $ HOW SHE ^-ayth. TOLD A IIS. I: The three travelers--kind Cousin Eva and her young charges, Cherry and Bnth --were standing on the staircase of the curious Hotel de Bonrgthroude, by tire Place de la Pucelle, Rouen. The narrow, gloomy little square looked etill narrower and gloomier in the driz­ zle of the dull November day, and the Ugly pump in the middle of it, with a •till uglier statue on the top, marking the place where Jeanne d'Arc was burnt, had been a sore disappointment to the children. They had oome, en­ thusiastic little pilgrims, to see the spot where their favorite heroine died; i the hotel people will hear you," said* timid Ruth, and' was quite Relieved when they started off. I need not re­ late how extremely the children en­ joyed the stiff climb up the hill, and ad­ mired the lovely building, alt ablaze with brilliant but*harmonious coloring, and the little side chapels filled with innumerable votive inscriptions: "A Marie," "Graces a Marie," "Elle a exauce mes voeux," etc. Curious, sim­ ple, almost childish, it all was, yet touching to those who feel, as Cousin Eva did, that to believe earnestly in ^ythingis better than believing in nothing. Afterward they all sat and rested in one of the prettiest resting places I know for those that live and move, or for "them that sleep"--the graveyard on the hilltop, close behind the church of Notre Dame de Bon Secours. From this high point they could see the whole country for miles and miles, the Seine winding through it in picturesque curves; Rouen, with its bridges and streets, distinct as if a map, lay at their right hand, aud, rising out of the mass of houses, etheroalized by the yellow sunset, were the two spires of the ca­ thedral and the church of St. Ouen. "Can you see the market place, Cous­ in Eva ? If so, poor Jeanne d'Arc, when she was brought out to die, must have seen this lull, with the church on topof it • that is, supposing there was a church." "There might have been, though not this one, which is modern, you see." "I wonder," continued Cherry, who was always wondering, "if she looked •nd Cousin Eva could hardly get them j up ftt -t> and thought it hard that Notre to believe that it was the spot - it dp Ron SAcnnrs slinnlrl not hava * the common-looking market place, where a few ordinary market people were passing aud repassing, had actu­ ally been the scene of that cruel deed --that from the very identical windows of these identical houses brutal eyes had watched the maid, as she stood, the flames curling round her, clasping the rude cross which some charitable,, soul pushed toward her hand. "Do you rememl>er," Cousin Eva said, "how, at the last moment, she re­ tracted all the false confession of here­ sy and witchcraft which torture had wrtmg from her, and exclaimed: ' Yes, my voices were of God,' and how, when she saw the flames approaching her, she j shut her eyes, called out once: ' Jesus!' * * dropped her head upon her breast and that was all, till they raked up a hand­ ful of charred bones out of the embers, threw them into the Seine ?" The children looked very grave. At ? • last they did realize the whole. "I wonder what sort of a day it was," whispered Cherry; "dull and gloomy, }] like to-day, or with a bright, blue, sun- r JXj sky ? Perhaps she looked up at it before the fire touched her. And per­ haps he stood here--just where we i; aland--the English soldier who cried out, 4 We have burnt a saint!'" , . And so she was," said Ruth, with a /; quiver passing over the eager little face, y "areal saint." •But Cousin Eva," added Cherry, did she ever own to being a J witch? and how could she say her voices were not true when she believed they c were true? One way or the other aha ^#k*«iust have told a lie." i; Miss Cherry was of an argumentative ^ rather than a sentimental turn. She ,f -thought a good deal herself, and liked « to m -ke other people think, too, so as _ to enable her to get at the bottom of | Wrings. She could never overlook the slightest break in a chain of practical | ifppsoning; and if she had a contempt I pn this world it was for a weak person or a person who told a lie. This flaw, ' oven in her favorite maid of Orleans, otherwise so strong and brave, was too much for Cherry to pass over. *Do you think," said Cousin Eva, • "that it would be possible, under stress 7, ot circumstances, to tell a lie--to con- ieps to something one had never done? JBish op Cranmer, for instance--have you X ^forgotten how he signed a recantation | «nd then thrust into the flames ' that unworthy right hand?* And Galileo, when forced by the inquisition to de­ clare the earth stood still, muttered aft- •erward, ' E per si inuove.' Yes, yes," •continued she, "one never knows what •one may be driven to till the time comes. "The force of torture is very strong. •Qnce upon a time I remember I told * lie." » "You told a lie," echoed Cherry, looking with amazement into the ; *, bright, sweet, honest face--rosy- ' cheeked, blue-eyed--her little cousins themselves had not more innocent eyes than Eva's--as clear and round as a *•" toby's. "But nobody ever tortured you?" asked tender-hearted Ruth, clinging to the tender hand which, indeed, she never went far away from, in these firming "foreign parts." ' fiv.'if jay little girl; the thumbscrews, tile rack, and the maiden belong, luck- : -a* 'to that room in the tower where we 5" W^'thqra once, and we are in the nine- •V, ijfeentU and not the fifteenth century. ' 'Still, even nowadays, a good deal of j . moral torture can be brought to bear UpoH one occasionally, Especially when > '.u#*e )» only a child, as I was then. And I was tried sharply--enough to make me remember it even now, and feel <|uite sure that if I bad been Jeanne , j, #d'Arc I should very likely have done , «xactly as she did. Also I learnt what ' 1 have tried to put in practice ever since, that nothing makes people liars Jiike disbelieving them." Ruth gave a tender little pressure to 4he hand she held, while Cherry said proudly: "You never disbelieve us and ou never need to! But tell us, Cousin a, about the lie you told. Was it lying something you had done, or owing to something you were quite in­ nocent of, like poor Jeanne d'Arc? J)otell! You know How well we like f i«£he story." "What, here m this pelt of rain?"' "iS Answered Cousin Eva, as she proceeded f'"*o investigate from under her umbrella 11 " the curious bas reliefs of the Field of ' •he Cloth of Gold, which still remain the court of the Hotel du Jiourg- ^^jfijiroude. "No, children; you must wait more desirable opportunity." j Which, however, was not long in I ifsoming. The day brightened--grew p ;if|nto one of those exquisite days which »|£ P*renc3i people call Fete de St. Martin r-HHid truly f know nothing like it ex­ it what it most resembles--a sweet, •ful, contented old age. So Cousin !va decided to take the children to a ; fjlace which she herself had once seen ill jpnd never forgotten--the little church the hilltop called Notre Dame de > jBon Secours. "Is that the same which Alice sings ^"Ifcbout in the opera of 'Robert le ' ' IWable?'" and Cherry struck up in her ^|>lear, young voice-- 'jj*' "Qturad Je qntttals ma Normandle ^Stouen is Normandy, so of course it is ! ifaie same-- >. Daigne proteger nos amourf $'£>• i Notre Dame de Bon Secour.nT ̂ ̂ don't ^ui ̂ w linid or Dame de Bon Secours should not have succored her. Perhap's because, to es­ cape from the heretic English, she had told a lie." "And that reminds me," added Ruth, who was not given to ethical questions, "that while we sit and rest we might hear from Cousin Eva about the lie she told." "Yes, yes. Please say, Cousin Eva, was it a big or a little one? Why did you tell it? And was it ever found out . "I don't quite see the difference be­ tween big and little, my child. A lie is a lie, though sometimes there are exten­ uating circumstances in the reason for telling it. And once told, the question whether it is found out or not does not matter. My lie was never found out, but it grieved me all the same." "Will it grieve you to tell me about it? I should not like that," said Ruth, softly. "No, dear; because I have long since forgiven myself. I was such a small child, much younger than either of you, and, unlike you, I had no parents, only an aunt, an uncle, and a lot of rough cousins who domineered over me and made me afraid. That was the cause. The sure way to make a child untruth­ ful is to tnake it afraid. I remember, as if it were yesterday, the shudder of terror that came over me when my eldest cousin clutched me by the shoul­ der, saying: ' Did you do that ?'" "And 'what had you done?" asked Cherry. "Nothing; but Will thought I had. We were all digging in our garden, and had just found his favorite jessamine plant lying uprooted on the ground. It had been my favorite, too, but Will took it from my garden and planted it in his own, where I watched it anxious­ ly, for I was afraid it would die. * ' You did it on purpose,' Will per­ sisted, ' or if not out of revenge out of* r pure silliness. Girls are always so silly. Didn't you propose yesterday to dig it up to see if it had got a root ?' "Which was quite true. I was a very silly little girl, but I meant no harm. I wouldn't for the world have harmed either Will or his jessamine. I told him so, but lie refused to believe me. So did they all. They stood round me and declared I must have done it. No- b dy else had been in the garden, ex­ cept, indeed, a dog, who was in the habit of burying his Ixmes there. But they never thought of him as the sin­ ner ; it was only of me. And when I denied the thing they were only the more angry. " ' You know you are telling a lie. And where do little girls go that tell lies ?' cried Will, who sometimes told them himself; but then he was a boy, and it was a rule in that family, a terri­ bly mistaken one, that the boys might do anything, and that the girls must always give in t» the boys. So when Will looked fiercely at me, repeating, ' You know you did it,' I almost felt as if 1 really had done it. Unable to find another word I bejran to cry. " 'Look here, children,' he called to all the rest of the children. ' Eva has gone and pulled up my jessamine, out of spite, or mischief, or pure silliness--» I don't know which, and I don't care. I'd forgive her if she would only con­ fess, but she won't. She keeps on tell­ ing lie after lie, and' we won't stand children that tell lies. If we punish her, she'll howl, so I propose that until she confesses we all send her to Coventry.' It'S a very nice town, but I don't want to go there,' said I; at which, I re­ member, they all burst out laughing, and I cried only the more. "I had no idea of what sending to Coventry meant, unless it was like send­ ing to Siberia, which I had lately been reading of, or to the quicksilver mines, where condemned convicts were taken, and where nobody ever lived more than two years. -Perhaps there were quick­ silver mines at Coventrv. A cold shmi­ l­ der of fear ran through me, but I viu utterly powerless. I could but die. ' "Soon I discovered what jny punish-" ment was, and, though not death, it was hard enough. Fancy, children, being treated day after day, and all day long, just as if you were a chair or table-- never taken the least notice of, never answered if you spoke, never spoken to on any account,1 never played with, petted or scolded; completely and abso­ lutely ignored. This was being sent to ' Coventry,' and it was as cruel a pun­ ishment as could have lteen inflicted upon any little girl who liked her play­ fellows, rough as they were, and was very fond of one of them, who was never rough, but always kind and good. "This was a little boy who lived next door.^i^tw parents, like mine, were out in.^India--nor had he any brothers or sisters. He was just my age, and younger than any of my cousins. So we were the best of friends, Tommy and I. His surname I have forgotten, but I know we always called him Tommy, and I loved him dearly. The bitterest pang of all this bitter time was that even Tommy went over to the enemy. " At first he had been very sorry for me--had tried, all through that holi­ day Saturday when my punishment began, to persuade me to confess and escape it; and when he failed--for how could I confess to what I had never done ? to an action so mean that I would have been ashamed even to have thought of doing?--then Tommy also sent me to Coventry. On the Sunday, aU '«s children'--we didnt mind grammar much in thoae days--walked to ohnrch together across the fields, 4nd Tommy always walked with me, chattering, the whole way. Now we walked in total silence, for Will's eyes were upon him, and even Tommy was afraid. Whatever I said, he never answered a single word. "Then I felt as if the whole world were against me--as if it were no use trying to be good, or telling the truth, since even the truth was regarded as a lie. In short, in my childish way, I suffered much as poor Jeanne d'Arc must have suffered when she was shut "tip in her prison at Rouen, called a witch, a deceiver --forsaken of all, and yet promised pardon if she would only confess and own she was a wicked woman, which she knew she was not. "I was quite innocent, but, after three days of being supposed guilty, I ceased to care whether I was guilty or not. I seemed not to care for anything. Since they supposed I was capable of pulling up a harmless jessamine root out of spite, what did it matter whether they thought I had told a lie or not? Indeed, if I tell one, it would be much easier than telling the truth; and every day my ' sticking it out' and persisting in the truth became more difficult. "This state of things continued till Wednesday, which was our half holi­ day, when my cousins went for a long walk or played cricket, and I was sent in to spend the afternoon with Tommy. They were the delight of my life, those quiet Wednesdays, when Tommy and I went4 mooning about,' dug in our gar­ den, watched our tadpoles--we had a handbasin full of them, which we kept in the arbor till they developed into myriads of frogs, and went hopping about eVerywhere. But even tadpoles could not charm me now, and I dreaded, rather than longed for, my half holi­ day. "School had been difficult enough,for Tommy and I had the same daily govern­ ess ; but if, when we played together, he was never to speak to me, what should I do. Beside, his grandmother would be sure to^find it out; and she was a prim and rather strict old lady, to whom a child who had been sent to Coventry for telling a lie would be a perfect abhorrence. What could I do? Would it not be better to hide away somewhere, so as to escape going into Tommy's house at all? Indeed, I almost think some vague thought of running away and hiding myself forever crossed my 'mind, when I heard Will calling me. "He and two of the others were standing at the front door, a terrible council of three, like that which used to sentence to death the victims in the Prigoni .which we saw last month at Venice. I felt not unlike a condemned prisoner--one who had been shut up so long that death came almost as a relief, which it must often have been to those poor souls. The three big boys stood over me like Judges over a criminal, and Tommy stood beside them) looking very sad. " 'Little girl,' said Willie, in quite a judicial tone, ' We think you have been punished enough to make you thor­ oughly ashamed of yourself. We wish you to go and play with Tommy, as usual ; but Tommy could not -possibly have you unless you were out of Coven­ try. We will give you one chance more. Confess that yoti pulled up the jessa­ mine and we will forgive you and tell nobody about you, and you shall go and have tea with Tommy, just as if noth­ ing had happened. Think--you have only to say one word.' " 'And if I don't say it?* " 'Then,' answered Will, with » sol­ emn and awful expression, 'I shall be obliged immediately to tell everybody everything.' "That terrible threat, all the more formidable because of its vagueness, quite overcame me. To be set down as a liar or to become one; to be punished as I know my aunt would punish me on her son's mere statement for a wrong I had never done, or to do a wrong thing, and, escaping punishment, go back to my happy life with my dear Tommy, who stocxl, the tears in his eyes, waiting my decision! "It was a hard strait--too hard for one so young. And Will stood glaring at me with his remorseless eyes. " 'Well, now--say, once for all, did you pull up my jessamine?' "It was too much. Suddenly, slow­ ly, I made up my mind to the inevita­ ble, and answered, 'Since you will have it so--yes.' But the instant I had said it I fell into such a fit of sobbing--al­ most hysterical screaming--that my cousins were frightened and ran away. "Tommy staid, however. He got me into the quiet arbor as fast as he could. I felt his arms around my neck and his comforting was very tender, very sweet. But it was long be ore I stopped cry­ ing, and still longer before anything like cheerfulness came into my poor ,little heart. We played together all the afternoon very affectionately, but in a rather melancholy sort of way, as if we had something on our minds to which we never made the smallest ref­ erence. Tommy was a timid boy, and Will had cowed him into unkindness;. but he loved me--I knew he loved me. Only, as is often the case, if his love had had a little more courage it would have been all the better for me--per­ haps for him, too. "We spent a peaceful but rather dull afternoon, and then were summoned in­ doors to tea. "Now, tea at Tommy's •house was a serious thing. Tommy's grandmother always ate at the table, and looked at us through her spectacles, and talked "to us in a formal and dignified manner, asking if we had been good children, had learnt our lessons well, had played together without quarreling, etc. She was a kind old lady, years upon years older than we, and quite unable to un­ derstand us at all. Consequently we never did more than answer her ques tions and hold our tongues. As for telling her anything--our troubles, es­ pecially--we should ^ as soon have thought of confiding <§n the Queen or Emperor of all the Russians. "I never opened my lips all tea time, and at last she noticed it. Also that my eyes were rather red. • " ' This little girl looks as if she had been, crying. I hope you have not made her cry, Tommy, my dear.' "Tommy was silent. But I eagerly declared that Tommy had not made me cry. Tommy was never unkind to me. " 'lam glad to hear it, Evangeline,' she always gave me my full name, ' and I hope you, too, are a good child, who is never in mischief, and above all never tells lies. If I were not q»uite sure of that I could not allow Tommy to play with you.' "She looked me fully in the face, as if she saw through and through us-- which she did not, being very short­ sighted--yet I felt myself tremble in every limb. As for Tommy, he just glanced at me and glanced away again, turning crimson to the very roots of his hair, but he said nothing. "What would hiwe \appeared next, I cannot tell; we vaiteo\ in terror, hold­ ing one another's -n nd& under the table­ cloth. But mercilu'ly %t that instant the old lady was fetched to spe*k with some one, and we two children aad to finish our tea alone. \ \ "It almost choked usV-nn at any rate. But as soon as ever it wta over, and Tommy and I found ourselves out m the garden, I flung my arms tootmd his reck and told him all. "And Tommy believed .me.\ No mat­ ter whether the others did or not, Tom­ my believed me at last I Tommy sym­ pathized 'with me, oomfortVa me, thought I was not so wicked even though I had told a lie, but not tno, one I was accused of telling. Tommy wept with me over all that, I had suffered, and promised that, though perhaps it was better to let the matter rest now, if such a thing were to happen again he would not be afraid of Will, or any­ body, but would stand up for me ' like a man.'" "And did he do it?" asked Cherry, with slight inoredulity in her tone. "He never had the opportunity. A week after this he was suddenly sent for to join his parents abroad, and I never saw my friend Tommy any more." "But did you never hear of him? Is he alive still ? He must be a very old gentleman by this time." "Very. No doubt a father--possibly even a grandfather," replied Cousin Eva, smiling, _ Cherry blushed. "I didn't mean that, since he was barely as old as you, and you are certainly not a grandmother. But I want to hear more oi Tommy. Is he married?" "I really cannot say. The last time I heard of him was ten years ago; when he was living somewhere abroad--I rather think in Shanghai. He was not married then." "I wish," whispered Ruth solemnly, "I wish he would come back to England and many you." <-• Cousin Eva laughed. "There might be two opinions on that question, you know. But oh I my children, when you are married and have children of your own, remember my story. If ever a poor little thing looks tip in your face saying, ' I didn't do that,' believe it! If it sobs out, ' I am naughty,' don't call it naughty! Give it the benefit of the doubt. Have patience, take time; and whatever you do, don't make it afraid.1 Cowards are always liars. Of the two evils it is less harmful to believe a per­ son who tells a lie, than to doubt an­ other who is speaking the truth." "I think so, too," said Cherry sagely. "Remember poor Jeanne d'Arc." "And poor Cousin Eva," added Ruth, kissing the well-beloved hand. And so, in the fading twilight, the three rose up together, and went down the hill from Notre Dame de Bon Se­ cours. - An Arkansas Man's Dying Advice to His Son. Old Sol Grayson was long regarded as the most noted infidel in Arkansas. His pious neighbors were often shocked by his unreverential expressions, and the superstitious were afraid to pass his house at night or during dark, cloudy weather. One day the news that old Sol had been stricken down with rheu­ matism of the heart, spread around. People left their plows and shops and hurried to the bedside of the sufferer, not particularly through sympathy, but because they wanted to witness the old man's violent struggle with the devil. Ah, old man,'* the neighbors had often remarked, we want to be present when you die. You'll take water then, old man." The old man would reply that he had never taken much water during life and that he didn't think he would lose his appetite for something stronger at life's close. "Go on making a joke outen every- ing," they would reply. "Go ahead, bur when the dark shadows oommence to creep around, youll sing another tune." "Bet you fifty dollars." "Yes, you can bet, but wait." Well, the time had come and the peo­ ple gathered around. The old man seemed to be suffering greatly. 'How do you feel, old man ?" asked the superintendent of the neighborhood Sunday school. 'Pretty rough," and he drew up his face and squinted his eyes in pain. "Do you know where youare going ?" "No; neither do you." "Have you repented?" "I don't owe any of you anything, do I?" "No." "That's all right, then." "But, feeling an interest in your wel­ fare, we ate unwilling to see you drift away into the dark unknown--" "How are you going to help your­ selves?" "Old gentleman, you are during. A few more moments and you will be far beyond the philosophy of earth. You have not believed in a hell; you have lived as though you never expected to meet the devil, and now we ask you to reflect." , "You are right," said the old man. You are right, my life has been a terri­ ble mistake," and calling his son to the bedside, he said: "John, I'm going." "Yes, father," replied the boy. "It is right that I should give a few parting words to you." The visitors pressed forward and lean over. "No man should die without leaving advice to his son." He was silent for a mo­ ment, and the superintendent fearing that he might die before the words of advice and repentance were uttered, said: "But what are you going to say to your son?" • "Yes, I had almost forgotten it. John, you will find my revolver in my Sunday boot!"--Arkansaw Traveler. 8TKHEST HOLE. A Coat to be Disciplined. In the days of early Methodism in Northern Ohio, a preacher had been appointed to a new circuit, and wore on his first round a fashionable broadcloth frock-coat, which his tailor had inno­ cently provided for him. This became a source of grievance to the home-spun laity, and it "was finally resolved to make it a matter of discipline. So at the first quarterly conference charges were prepared in due form, and the offend­ ing minister notified to be present and make answer. Entering the room where the presiding elder and lesser magnates were assembled, the preacher stripped off his coat, hung it on the back of a chair, and pointing to it, said: "Since it is the coat that offends, try it. Could I reach any sounder gospel in robes or cassock? It seems to me that it is not the manner of the coat, but the manner of man in the coat, that should be con­ sidered." And there the trial ended.-- Cincinnati Commercial. THK census in the French colony of Algeria for 1882 gives a total popula­ tion of 3,310,565. This shows an in- creaae since 1876 of 442,WO. Th« Tli*ory of Capt John Clems lyuMi Krpklned. IFnm Htrper'n MagadntJ The two most important. features M' John Cleves Symmes's theory are that all orbicular bodies in the universe par­ taking of a planetary nature are com­ posed in a greater or less degree of spheres concentric, one within the other, and to some extent open at their poles; and that gravity is due to the pressure of an impalpable element com­ posed of minute concentric spheres, existent throughout all space, elastic, and changing its molecules by any change of matter whatever throughout space. To this substance Captain Symmes attributes gravity, making it a pushing instead of a pulling force, as it is now generally held to be. But this latter theory of gravitation he holds not to be essential to his theory of concentric circles, which circles would be formed upon the old theory of gravitation. Captain Symmes puplished notes or explanations of his theory, which he called memoirs. Memoir No. II. says: "With dividers describe a circle on a plane of matter of loose texture, and in the centre add a very small circle; then draw a line through the centre. It is evident (as matter gravitates matter in proportion to quantity and distance) that either half of the-inner circle, be­ ing almost equally surrounded by mat­ ter, must be very little gravitated cen- trewise; so being suspended, only a rotary motion is needed to throw it com­ pactly toward the outer circle. This being admitted, it follows that half-way from the outer to the inner side of this circle of matter so thrown out, a like i rarity, suspension, «or balance of gravity should prevail, and hence a disposition to concentric circles; therefore it fol­ lows that successive similar subdivi­ sions should exist, gradually lessening in force or quantity. By applying this principle to the earth, I found the necessity of hollow, concentric spheres. A decision of school-men on these lines shall be followed by additional posi­ tions, further explaining my new prin­ ciples of hollow spheres, open at the poles, declared in a. circular letter 6T the 10th of April, 1818. "JOHN CLEVES SYMMES, of Ohio, late Captain of Infantry." s- This is the basis of Symmes's theory. This theory he maintained with great earnestness, courage, and disinterested­ ness during a large part of his life, and were he living now, he would in all likelihood be doughtily contending for it still, accomodating his theory to the Nares expedition--which went where he declared irrefutable optical proof could be had of the polar openings-- and all other discoveries whatsoever. Among other arguments that he brought to his support were the migra­ tions of animals to and from the arctic regions, atmospheric refraction, and the variation of the compass observed in high northern latitudes. He supposed that there must exist "mid plane spaces" in each of the spheres, and be­ lieved the interior of the inclosed spheres to be lighted by the direct and refracted rays of the sun. Each of these spheres he supposed to be widely open at the poles. The planes of these polar openings were said to be inclined to the plane of the ecliptic at an angle of about twelve degrees, so that the real axis of the earth, being perpendic­ ular to the plane of the equator, would form an angle of twelve degrees with a tine passing through the sphere at right angles with the polar openings, and consequently the verge (or edge) of the polar openings must approach several degrees nearer to the earth's equator on one side than on the other. Symmes believed that there were be­ neath our feet miles and miles of wondrous unclaimed domain; reindeer roamed its colder borders, fish swam in its seas, animals and trees and flow­ ers of curious and unknown shape made its life a primal gladness; splendid visions of untold wonders, misty dreams of splendors unnamable, floated through his nightly and daily thoughts, and greater than all burned within him the ceaseless desire to become the discoverer of this unknown land. And the only thing needful was for the government to traverse the "icy circle," pierce the polar opening, and sail in and take possession--perchance to find man, to meet a mighty race of people, to come face to face with some stupendous reve­ lation of nature, to explore some splen­ did barbarism, or disclose a civilization as vet undreamed. Something to Live For. It has been asserted by scientific surgeons that the will-power of a sick man has a great deal to do with his dy­ ing, and the case of Charles O'Conor is cited with evidence. A still stronger case occured in Michigan. An old man, living in the Northern part of the State, got. out a lot of timber many years ago for a toll-road company, but the company failed, and left him in, the lurch. For years and years he tried to sell the timber to this one, or that, but no one wanted it, and at last time and decay rendered the beams almost worthless. Last summer the Supervis­ ors of that county advertised for pro­ posals to build a bridge, and the old man put in a "bid. While waiting to see what would be done he was taken very sick, and he grew worse so rapidly that a council of doctors was called. After due deliberation he was informed that he was approaching his end. "When will I know about the bridge ?" he coolly asked. "The bids will be opened to-day." "Well, I'll send John over to see who gets the job, and my living or dying will depend on his news." At 5 o'clock in the afternoon the son and the family physician arrived in com­ pany. The old man was neither better nor worse. -> "Well," he asked as John approached. "Our bid was accepted father." "And we've got the job?" "Yes; but the doctor saya you can't live." "I can't, eh? I'm not going to live to build that bridge, but I'm going to work that square timber "into it up to the last foot, or my name isn't John Rogers!" It is a fact, vouched for l>y a dozen good men, that he was off that dying bed, and in less than a fortnight lie was at work on the bridge.--Detroit Free Press. ' What Is Plagiarism! What is plagiarism ? Among all the questions connected with literary criti­ cism there is, perhaps, none to which it is more difficult to give a satisfactory answer. Of course* it is easy enough to define plagiarism in the abstract as a form of theft, the things stolen being thoughts, phrases, images, and the like; the difficulty is to decide whether in this or in that case the offense has really been committed. Sometimes the evi­ dence for the accuser may be obviously too ciwhittg to be set Aside; sucfe .as when a sermon or an essay or a poem which piofesses to be the work of one man is discovered to be identical, sentence for sentence and word for word, with the previous work of some­ body else. In such a case it is tolerably clear that deliberate "conveyance," as Pistol loved to describe it, must have been practiced by preacher, or essayist, or poet No. 2. Literature is, however, full of duplicates, the existence of which cannot by any means be so read­ ily explained. Some thoughts have a trick of turning up ag^in and again in the same kind of dress, and, though sometime the similarity of costume is so marked as to strongly suggest a sus­ picion of literary larceny, the kindly critic is generally free to believe either that the reproduction has been uncon­ scious--a vague reminiscence having been mistaken for an original idea--or that the correspondence is altogether fortuitous, and that two minds have hit not only upon the same thought, but the same form of expression, while working in entire independence of each other.--Chambers' Journal. "He or She!" May I be allowed to speak jof fc mat­ ter which properly belongs to a pro­ fessor of sacred rhetoric? There has grown up of late years a most absurd and reprehensible habit among our younger clergymen of protruding the sex distinction in their sermons and prayers, iiothing is toore common than to hear such petitions offered as that "we may be faithful men and women." The words "manly" and "manhood" are seldom used without being coupled with "womanly" and "womanhood." And most of all, in general statements, the masculine pronoun "he" is thought to be as uncomfortable as unmated Adam, until it is supplemented with a "she"--e. g., we hear such expressions as this: "Any of my hearers, whoever he or she may be." Recently I heard a minister speak of what his hearers used to do "in their boyhood and girl­ hood." Now if there were any rhetorical necessity for such clumsiness of lan­ guage, it would have to be tolerated; but there is none. It may be unfortu­ nate that the one word "man" has to serve double purpose of demoting both a human being and a male adult; but it does serve that double purpose. It is sufficient, in order to express the truth of human mortality, to say: "All men are mortal." To say "All men and women are mortal," would not help matters, and would even suggest that the children are excepted. Equally true is it that in general propositions the masculine pronoun is properly used to cover both sexes. When it is said "If any man will do His will he shall know of the doctrine," everybody understands the statement to cover manhood in gen­ eral. But the ministers to whom I refer, if they were to express the truth in their own style, would have thought it necessary to add a "woman" and a "she" to make the sense complete. "Now, what possible reason can there be for this necessary and indelicate protrusion of the quality of sex ? No rhetorical advantage is gained. The truths of the Gospel lire the same to both sexes. In Christ there is neither male nor female. Wherever there is any need of referring to the distinction, of course, it should be done, just as when there is need of particularizing the parts of the body, it should be done. But lv would not improve Paul's in­ junction, ™Gioriiy God iu your head, neek, limbs and bowels." And so there is no rhetorical or other gain; but, rather, a great loss in lumbering lan­ guage with these allusions to the dis­ tinction of sex, when the only thing ac­ complished is to draw the attention of the hearers away from the subject of the discourse, and to the fact that the preacher has a lively consciousness that the distinction exists. Let us see how this practice would work when applied to some Biblical passage, say Gal. vi. 1-7; "Brethren and sisters, if a man or woman be over­ taken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore him or her in the spirit of meek­ ness, considering tfoyself lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For, if a man or wonuin thinks himself or herself to be something, when he or she is nothing, he or she deceiveth him­ self or herself; but let every man or woman prove his or her own work, and then shall he or she have great rejoic­ ing in himself and herself alone, and not in another. For every man or woman shall bear his or her own bur­ den. Let him or her that is taught in the Word communicate unto him or her that teacheth in all good things. Be not deceived. God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man or woman soweth that shall he or she also reap." Does any one want the revised Bible to read after this fashion ? If not why preach after this fashion.--JPrqf. G. M. Mead, in Independent. How Cloth-Makers Cheat. "I am going to sell out my business," said a manufacturer of dry goods, "al­ though I make money easily. But I have become disgusted with the busi­ ness. All the old systems of manufac­ turing have been completely changed. They do not make good cloth any more --nothing but trumpery, common trash! Instead of selecting the wool of the finest races of sheep, they have fallen back on the common sheep--which gives a coarse but more plentiful sup­ ply. Even then, if they would put wool, and nothing but wool, into their goods, it would not be so bad. But chemistry has now invaded the business; the most astounding combinations are success­ fully made. Why, here! This cloak you* have on your shoulders is of light cloth--looks like cheviot. Do you know what cheviot is?" "The name of a manufacturer?" "No, no! the name of a breed of Eng­ lish sheep that are raised in a chain of mountains covered with rich woods and pasture lands, between England and Scotland. Well, do you know what your cloak is really made of ?" "Why, no; I could never guess." Then, for a few seconds, he handled,* fingered, rubbed the stuff, and added: "This is what your cloak is made of: Twenty per cent, of grease; fifteen of cotton; fifteen of renaissance-- a pretty name they give to old rags pounded up and triturated--and about fifty per cent, of common M[ool. But don't sup­ pose manufacturers will stop here. The chemists are working away; and it is highly probable that before very long they will succeed in producing woolen goods in which there will be no wool at all. This is why they used to make overcoats which would last three or four years, whereas one must have two overcoats every year--one made for summer and one for winter. And yet they cost just as much, if not more, than before. Such is progress!" FOURTEEN oysters have as much di- 'gestible albumen as one hen'a egg. F1KB AND POUT. -A 3 MAKT statesmen look upon a morn~ ' ing cocktail as a constitutional amenlfc> " ment. " '-A--."- SUMHEBBBEKZB says marriage is f|f. means of grace, beoraso it led him t» repentance. PHILADELPHIA boasts a man wht» £riect to poison seven people. In a man who isn't a doctor this thing seems extraor­ dinary.-- Philadelphia Chronicle. You never know how much water tsn^ " umbrella is capable of containing ""fal you accidentally stand it against the wall and on the pearl-colored carpet that costs $5 per yard.--Puck. . A BROOKLYN man no longer another, on Sunday morning, "Are you going to church?" The query now is, "Are you going to hear a stump speech this morning?--Norristoum Herald. FBIEND--"Madder, what is the mat­ ter with your nose?" Madder--"The only ohance for an artist nowis to paint quickly and cheap. I work with both hands and blend with my nose."--Puck. AN old bachelor recently gave tho following toast: Women--the morning star of infancy, the day star of man­ hood, the evening star of age. Blew our stars, and may they always be kept at a telescopic distance. A DENVER paper professes to think it marvelous that a man whose braina were knocked out are living. If ho were out this way he would not only bo living, but would be holding some im­ portant offioe.--Hartford Times. YOUNG man, don't pay the minister over $10. You will need all your cuii* rency the first time Belena puts her dimpled arms around your neck and tries to trade off two kisses for a spring bonnet.--New Orleans Picayune. SQUEAKING SHOKS. Unmnaical, says William 8., Are they who crime and sin possess, Like treason, stratagem and spoil, • No, if you would the devil foil-- If ^music in your sole" you choose-- Juprt buy a pair of squeaking shoea. --Puck. * AN examining magistrate questions a criminal and asks him what excuse he can find for the murder he has commit­ ted. "Your Honor," says the accused, "my victim has often said to me in con- , fidence that he wished to die a sudden and violent death!" "What are the nine muses, pa?" asked. a little boy who was reading mytholo­ gical lore in the lower class. "It is when the hooie 'nine' is beaten in a game of base ball, then the nine muses over it," was the reply.--Cincinnati Saturday Night. THE bashful young man who asked a lady on the beach if "he could see her home," was much surprised to hear her reply, "that he could go up and see if he wanted to, but she did not think her father wanted to sell;" then she coolly walked off with the man of her choice. ONE of the New York philanthropists who helped introduce the English spar­ rows here has had to remove every bracket from his house and go to an ex- * pense of $100 fbr painting. Wish ho had to live for a year on a sparrdw-pio and catch the sparrows himself.--JFVe* Press. "I THINK I shall have to ask your es­ cort this evening," said a sister to a big brother. "Well, I guess not. Do you suppose I'm going to let folks know I can't go with any girl but my sister? I'll stay at home first." There is a good deal of such accommodation in families^ --Boston Globe. A PRACTICAL mendicant is one morn­ ing missed by one of his regular bene­ factors. But on drawing near to the poor man's usual stand the benevolent* man sees his chair, upon it his hat, and on the hat the following label: "Kind gentlemen and ladies, take pity on tho ' poor blind man, who has gone to break­ fast." IT was Mike's third appearance in eourt within thirty days, and in reply to his usual appeal of clemency the mag­ istrate impatiently observed: "It's no use, Mike, you're good for nothing.** "It's not me sthyle to be braggin'," re­ sorted Mike, "but if your Honneur will borry a pair of shellelahs an' stip out­ side wid me I'll make it inconvaynient fer ye to howld that opinion.--Brook' lyn Eagle. • DE humblest man in the world ain't de man dat is fixin' ter be hung, but de man what hab jist got over a drunk. He feels like eberybody is a p'intin' do • finger ob scorn at him, an' when one ob his fren's speaks of some little happen- in' ob de spree, he bleeds inside. But he ain't entirely cured. After awhile he 'gins ter feel big agin an' forgettin* his shame, he gets drunk. Den ebery­ body seems ter. be 'gra tula tin' him tfll he gets through wid his foolishness. Oh, I'se been dar.--Arkansaw Trav- Well-Freserred Royalty* It is astonishing how well stffttt peo­ ple wear when they become corpses. When, in April, 1861, the remains of Napoleon was transferred to the sar­ cophagus, they were observed to be in a perfect state of preservation. When, in July, 1793, the National Convention decreed that the toombs of the ci- devant kings at the Church of St. Denis (five miles from Paris) should be demolished, the first tomb opened was that of Turetme, whose body was found in sueh perfect preservation that it was exhibited for the space of eight months in the sacristy. The first body ex­ tracted from the vault of the Bourbons was that of Henry IV., and it was ex­ hibited for two days, during which casts were taken of the face. On the some day the bodies of Louis Xlll., Louis XIV., Marie de Medicis, Anne of Austria, Marie Therese and Louis the Dauphin, son of Louis XIV., were dis­ interred. The body of Louis Xlil. was in good preservation; that of Louis XIV. of the deepest black. The coffins of Charles VI. and Isabella of Bavaria, his consort, contained nothing but dry bones. The tomb of Dagobert was opened by torchlight. The body of this king and his queen Nanthilde lay togeteher enveloped in silk. The king's head was severed from the body; the head of the queen was missing. The customs of the people in Dagobert's time must have made it a rather stirring thing to be a king.--Atlanta Constitu­ tion. "GRANDPA, does hens make their own egg?" "Yes, indeed they do, Johnnie.** "An' do they always put the yoke in the middle?" "Guess they do, Johnnie." "An' do they put the starch around it to keep the yellow from rubbing off?" "Quite likely, my little boy." An' who sews the cover on?" This stumped the old gentleman, and he barricaded Johnnie's mouth with a lollipop.--Lon- don Society. MRS. MEHNERT, who is 99 years old, has kept the Golden Trumpet Hotel, Reichenbach, Germany, for eighty con­ secutive years, and is still hale and hearty.