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Sabbath Reading

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Sh.6 lias bren juet a year m heaven; Umnurkod by white moon or gold Hiin, líy strolic of clock, or clang of bell, Or shadow leugtboningon the way, In the fuU noon aud perfect day, ïn Safety's very citadel, The happy hours havo spod, have run ; And, rait iu peace, all pain forgot, She whom we love, hor white soul shriven, Smilee at tlie thought and wonders not. We have been ,j ust a year alone ; A year whose calendar is Bigha, And dull, perpetual wishfulness, And smiles, eacli covert for a tear. And wandering thoughts, half there, half here, And woariful attempts to gucas The secret of the hidden skies, Tlie aoft, inexorable bluc, With gleaming hinte of fílory Bown, And hoaven behind, just shining through. So sweet. bo sad, ao swift, so slow, So full of eager growth and light, 8o full of pain which blindly grows ; Bo full of thoughts which either way llave pnsed aml crossed and touched each öay, To us a thora, to her a rose ; The year so black, the year so white, Like rivera twain their course have run, The earthly Btream we traco and know, But who shall paint the heavenly one ? A year ! We gather up our powers, Our lampB we consécrate and trim, Open all windows to the day, And welconie every heavenly air. We will prese forward and will bear, Having His word to cheer the way. She, stonu-tossed once, is safe with Jlün, Healed, comforted, content, forgiven, And whilo we count these heavy hours Has been a year, a year in heaven. -Susan Coolidge in the independent. Look on the Bright Side. Is thero one of us who does not sometimes need this bit of advice ? Things are contrary. The people around us are cot entirely congenial. . Our worldly affairs are not adjueted to our satisfaction. The ohildren are fretf ui. Our favorite book bas been borrowed, and the borrower is a notoriously careless person, so that we know that it will come back despoiled of its freshness. The plan of life on which we have built seems yery much like a f ailure. We are in some anxiety about some loved one, whose chamber of sickness may, perhaps, become the chamber of death. Some otber loved one misunderstands us, or opposes us with caprice and temper when we are in almost childish want of sympathy and support. Perhaps our hardly-earned money, the accumulations of faithful and frugal savings for years, is gorte, like a puff of smoke, or' a breath. Look on the bright side ? How can we ? We are ready to say that the heaven is hung with gloom, the earth obscured, the onward path bidden from our view. We are in the condition of travelers in a mountain land, on whoin, midway in their journey, has descended a cold, blinding, and impenetrable veil of fog. A step either way may be perilous, for it may be over a precipice. It becomes to our thought almost an impertinence, this sweet voice which bids us be of good courage, and count up the mercies, instead of mourn. ing over the disasters. Yet there is, if we but care to look for it, always a bright, serene aspect somewhere, always an element of cheer, and al way s the hope of Detter daya to come. It is very seldom indeed that things are so ntterly forlorn that they may not be worse. In our reasonable moods, we recognize this, and, however great our trouble, we can acknowledge that it might be greater. This is true, particularly with regard to calamities EiDd afflictions, such as visit us and constitute events in life. These, it is true to s&y, are frequently encountered and borne with rare heroism by those whose fortitude fails them when small woraies and cares annoy and distress. It is rmid the trifling, iretful pin-pricks of vexation and daily embarrassment that we are mortifled by flnding that the soul's armor is not of proof . Then we aro resolved to see no bright side, and we are angry at those who try to present it to our view. Quite apart from material burdens and sorrows, there is another región of life, in which at times there seems to be no brightness possiblj. " In the midsiience of the voiceless night," haveyou ever liiin awake, questioning your own soul, whüe the tickol the clock and the echoi'. g footfall of some belated passer on t'ae street alone broke the stillness ? Ah ! the ïnystery, the vague terror, which have blackened on you, and shut you in, as the tide imprisons a loiterer in some cave on the ocean shore ! How the thought of a swift-coming etemity has made you feel your own nothingness, your helplessness, and with what awe y ou nave contemplated the liour when but a few failing pulse-beate should be between you and that vast unknown. Speculatiou, separated frota faith, sets you adrift, a mere chip upon a torrent, and you have taken up the cry of one of oíd, "Lord, what is man, that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that Thou visitest him ?" with a chill dismay i creeping over you, lest you should slip away f rom the ever-present care of God. Borne of the purest, noblest natures suffer from this benumbing paralysis of doubt, jiow and then. It is humiliating to reflect, too, that the tortures which visit the mtellectual and mental part are of ten part of the penalty which an abused physieal e-onstitution exacts. The nerves are over-wrought, the bram has been unduly stimulated, or the stomach has been ill-treated, and then the body makes its reprisals on its spiritual tenant. But, come from what source soever it may, there is a mute agony of soul, which we sometimes endure, and in whioh it is a consolation indeed to rememfcer the Master, and His hard and bitter conflict beneath the olives of Gethsemauo. At such hours, like sheeted ghosts, the errors and defects of the past revisit you, and life grows unutterably sal. Is there a bright side here ? Some poet has said that the mark of rank in nature is capacity for pain, and to these nights of sorrow there are corresponding days of joy. Bat the real bright side is f ound only when, out of the whirl of struggling emotions, the spirit casts ilself upon the sympathy of Jesús. So strong, so true, so tender is the love of our Lord, that even as we cry, " Save or we perish," there comes, swiít as our necd, the answer, "Lo, I am with you always." No subtler habit of evil is there in the world than that of self-pity. The victim of this form of selfishnees is always eurveying the dark sido of things. If we elioose we can cultívate in ourselves and in our abildrèn the sunny nature, as well as that which is ever bemourjing itself, and eompariüg its lot with that of others. It would bo wcll for each of us, every ciay, when the trials press, to say, ' ' But after all, how muoh pleasure there ík here ; how much delight there is yonder, and what a garden of glory is this benutiful world. Let me, at least, try to be as happy as I can." - Margaret È. kianyntcv, in Chrislian Intelliycnecr. Kalph Waldo EauïKso''a Bpare featares, says a Boston newspaper, are "uharply outhnej, his thin gray hair stniggk's over his l;wl, Iiíh olear oye twinkles with every amusing utterance, his air is that of a student, an inquirer. He has a frank cordiality which is charming; he listens to you as if you were teaching him, not ho you." The Widower and the Widow. "When Mr. Thomas Thompson was oourting the widow who became his sixth wifo, eaid he, taking a pinoh of snuft' and looking wise, " I will teil you what I expect of you, my dear. You are aware that I have had a great deal of matrimonial experience. Ho-hum ! it makes me sad to think of it. My lot in the cemetery is almost full, and I may truly say that my cup of misery would be running over at this moment if it were not for you. But to business. I was about to remark that Jane, my first, could make better coffee than any other woman in this world. I trust you will adopt her recipe for the preparation of that beverage." " My first husband frequently remarked - " began the widow. "Andtherewas Susan," interrupted Mr. Thompson. " Susan was the best mender that probably ever lived. It was her delight to flnd a button off, and, as for rents in coats and things, I have seen her shed tears of joy when she saw them, she was so desirous of using her aeedle for their repair. Oh, what a woman Susanna was ! " " Many is the time," bcgan the widow, " that my first hus - " " With regara to Anna, wno was my third," said Mr. Thompson, kastily, "I think her forte above all others was in the accomplishment of the cake known as slapjack. I have very pleasant visions at this moment of my angelic Anna as she appeared m the kitchen of a frosty morning, enveloped in smoke and the morning sunshine that stole into he window, or bearing to my píate a partioularly nioe artiole of slapjack, with the remark, ' That's the nicest one yet, Thomas. Eat it while it's hot.' Sometimes, I assure you, my dear, these recollections are quite overpo wering." He applied his handkerchief to his eyes, and the widow said, ' ' Ah, yes. I know how it is myself, sir. Many is the time that I see in my lonely hours my dear flrst hus " " The pride and the joy of Julia, my fourth, and I may say, too, of Clara, my flfth," interrupted Mr. Thompson, with eome apparently accidental violence of tone, " lay in the art of making over their spring-bonneis. If you will believe it, my dear, one bonnet lasted those two blessed womnn through all the happy years they lived with me. They would turn them, and make them over so many, many times ! Dear, dear ! what a changing world - what an unhappy, changing world!" " I say so to myself a hundred times a day, sir," said the widow with a sigh. "I frequent ly remarked to my first hus " . "Madam!" said Mr. Thompson suddenly and with great sternness, "obligo me by never mentioning that cheap man again. Are you not aware that he must necessarily be out of the question forevermore? Can you not see that your continual references to him sicken my soul! Let us have peace, madame- let ushave peaoe." "Very well, sir," said the widow, meekly. "I beg your pardon, and promise not to do it again." And they were married, and their lives were as bright and peaceful as Mr. Miller's sundown seas. - Buffalo Express. Fierce Flght With a Bear. Several young men of this town went t out hunting on horseback, and when near William Nelson's f -om they ] denly came upon two large bears. They ( fired upon theni and suceecded in killing ( one, but the other ran for the timber j and passed out of sight, notwithstanding that ono of the boj s, Johnny Northover, , put four charges of buckshot iuto him at shoit range. As the bear seemed j likely to sscape, Adam Benson said he , would ride around the thicket, wbich was a short distance, and head him off. ' He accordingly started oft' alone and reaohed the other side of the mod before the bear. He dismounted and tied bis horse to a tree, and had wpited but a few moment when the infuriated beast broke from the timber and ruslied for hirn. He fired two shits, but the bear was upon him. The beast rose upon nis hind legs as Adam stnick at him with his rifle, and knocked the weapon from his hands. Then with a stroke of his paw he f elled Adam to the earth, knocking him between two logs, and commenoed to bito and claw him. Adam held the beast from his throat by grasping him by the shaggy hair on eaeh side of his head. Ho is a powerful young man, but ho feit his strength beginning to fail, and he knew that his only hope was in the knile tliat he carried in his belt. Ho let go of the bear with his right hand and reaohed for the knife, but found it wns gone. Thrusting the empty sheath into the bear's mouth, he gave himself up for lost. The bear was mangling tlie muscle of his arm in a terrible manner and would soon have killed him had not Jack Barnes' dog Bover come upon them. The dog attackod the bear fiercely and compelled him to leave Adam, who managed to crawl upon his horse and ride back to where the rest of the party had stopped to skin the other bear. "When he reached them he was too weak to teil them what had happened. His friends carrid him home, and on the way he managed to teil them that he was not anxious to box with a bear soon again. The hunters went to look for the bear, but found that it had escapea. As Benson's injuries are all flesh wounds it is thought he will soon recover, but he may lose the use of one arm. - Tacoma (W. T.) Rerald. Wliy Uold Clianges Color. It is well known that the human body contains humors and acids, similar in action to, and haviDg a like teudency toward, baser metáis, as nitric and sulphuric acids have, namely, to tarnish or dissolve them, varying in quantity in different persons ; of this theory we have abundant proof in the effects whiob the wearing of jewelry produces on different persons. Thonsands wear continnally, without any ill-effdct, the cheapsr class of jewehy with brass ear-wires, wliile if others wore the same article for a few days they would be troubled with sore cars ; or, in other words, the acids contained in the systeni would so act on the brass as to produce ill results. Instances have occurred in which articles of jewelry of any grado below eighteen carat have been tarnished in a few days, merely from the above-naired cause. True, these instances are not very frequent; neverthelesK, it is ns well to know them, and they are sufficient to prove that it is not in every case the faalt of tho goods uot weariug well - as it is generally called- bat the result of the particular eomtitution by whioh they ue


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Michigan Argus