the ideal man, what he was each man may become. Perhaps after the education of the ages, after the fires of retribution, after the strokes of sorrow, after the toilsome climbing of steeps of trial, we shall stand where he is. "I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am, ye may be also." This refers not to a material place, but to moral perfectness and glory. It has been said, "There is more probability now that all men will become Bacon's intellectually and St. John's spiritually, than there was once that one man should become a Bacon or St. John." Emerson says, "the heros of the hour are men of faster growth." Jesus or Buddha spiritually, Newton or Shakespere intellectually plant the

panners.

The host of mankind strive to rally around these standards.

How came we to dream of heaven

if there were no heavenly principle and instinct within us. Our fondest hopes are prophecies, the reflection of a far off and ultimate perfection. In the rough unhewn stone lies the beauty which the sculptor's hand discloses, and the marble becomes a form of almost living grace. In the

seed are concealed the elements of the flower that shall gladen the garden with its color and delight the ́air with its perfume. In the egg in the eagle's nest, is hidden the strong winged monarch of the air, who shall defy the winds and the storm with his might and find companions beyond the clouds. So in man, however insignificant or degraded to-day are germs and elements that wait for the day of their greatness and beauty and power.

Nature takes a million years to change the carbon, the dead cinders of perished vegetation, into sparkling and glorious gems fit for a diadem. So God has infinite time, and patience and power to convert the

very root and cinder of human life into perfect and glorious manhood. The laws of the universe are obedient to him who fashioned ideal man in his own image and who means that each individual man shall at last reach that ideal, and reflect his image in truth and perfectness.

In the third place, we find an essential unity of the race, the brotherhood of man.

Men always display the same great characteristics. Worship, fear, aspiration, love belong to all conditions. and conntries. The history of a human life, birth, joy and sorrow, hope and disappointment, union and separation, and death closing all, is it not the same in the remotest isles as here; when Seostris builds the pyrami ds," and now.' Do not tears mean the same when Queen's mourn and peasants weep? The sentiments and feelings that animate human life in such impartial manner indicate a kinship that extends over all the race from the begining until now, it is a kinship that is not broken when one man calls himself a saint, and another admits he is a sinner.

We are not independent. The shock that destroyed Charleston was felt along the Atlantic coast, but the calamity reached London and San Francisco and brought a speedy response of help. The suffering of one is the suffering of all. As a wave of the ocean, starting from American shores rolls continuously until it washes upon the coast of Norway, or foams on Ethiopia's sands, so every great impulse or experience of national or social life is felt universally. This is the solidarity of the race. the tie of human brotherhood.

The fate of all is involved in the

fate of one. The American Republic cannot become the Kingdom of Heaven, until Russia stops shooting

her prisoners and exiles and tyranny takes its bloody hand from the throat of her people. There can be no assured peace for any country until all countries crave peace, and assent to "A parliament of man The federation of the world." So there can be no absolute peace, happiness or perfections of any until until the profection of all is approached. The cry of a lost soul in hell, would turn all heaven's music into painful discord. All nations are of one flesh. Brotherhood causes us to feel that as we have a kindred history we shall have a kindred destiny. Heaven can be really heaven, either as a condition, or a place, only when the last soul is within the gates.

To conceive of man as a moral being, progressive, and fraternal, is a dignified natural and exalted view. It answers the problems of life. It accords with reason and the truth.

THE CHRIST OF REASON. When the Greak artist undertook to represent on canvas the tragic scene of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, he employed every secret of his talent in heightening the expression of grief upon the faces of the assistants; but when he came to that of Agamemnon, he drew a veil over it, for he felt that the depth of a father's despair under such circumstances was beyond the reach of the pencil. There is one other character, gentleman in Scripture, which should now be presented to you as a summary of all that has been said, but I dare not make the attempt. What language can delineate, or pretend to give an idea of perfection? What early maturity! While yet a child, He astonishes even the wisest by His learning. What docility to his parents! What affection for his friends! What indulgence to the fallen! What sympathy with female weakness and infant in

nocence! What faultless purity of life! With all this gentleness, what unshrinking severity for vice! With all this innocence, what unerring sagacity! In this lowly condition, what power of thought, what elevation of sentiment, what grace and charm of language! "Never man spake as he spake. spake." In His doctrine, what before unheard of, unthought of wisdomthe wisdom not of books, but of the heart! "I give unto you a new commandment, that ye love one another." In conduct, what unaffected self-sacrifice!"Father forgive them they know not what they do." Whence, then, comes this moral phenomenon, still more strange, and, on ordinary principles, more inexplicable than the one just alluded to? If the history be true, how happens it that the most unpropitious circumstances have brought out this grand result? If false, how is it that a few illiterate persons have invented a character, which to invent would be, în one form to realize? Answer, once more, infidelity! Answer, once more, skepticism, infidelity and skepticism have answered. The force of truth long since tore from the lips of one of their ablest champions the reluctant confession. Hear it in the words of Rousseau:

"Socrates lived and died like

occurred that opened his eyes. One year before this revelation came he had sold a stove for $18 to a drinking man; the drinker was not worth anything, but agreed to pay for the stove in installments, $1 per month, At the end of the year the merchant had not received even one payment.

He knew his debtor had been earning good wages the whole year. He had noticed the money had not been expended for clothes, for the family of his drinking customer were poorly clad, and the man himself had only one suit, and that almost in rags.

Two weeks before the time in question, the drinking man had gone five miles out of town to do a job of work at $3 a day. The manufacturer knew this, and was waiting for his return, thinking he might get a part payment on the stove sold a year before, if not the whole amount.

Just before dark he made his appearance. The manufacturer knew the man who had employed his debtor; knew he was a man of means, and it was his custom to pay down for all work done for him.

The manufacturer said: "Hold on, J- I want to speak to you. You remember the stove? You were to pay $1 each month, over a year has have not made the gone by and first payment yet, you have been at work for W- can't you pay me half? $5 anyway! ?"

you

"I'm sorry I can't; but I have not got any pay out of Wwhen I get it I will call and pay all." The manufacturer was not satisfied. He looked up from his meditation just in time to see his customer go into the hotel (one of the necessary (?) places for the prosperity of the village.)

His going into the hotel aroused the curiosity of the manufacturer. He thought: "I will just walk over to the hotel and see what is going on.'

He entered the hall where he could get a good view of the bar, and was a witness to the following. The drinker said: "Well, landlord, what is my bill? I can pay you now." "Your bill may be larger than you tnink; you have not paid up for some time. Ah! it is more than I thought-$21.50.”

"As much as that? It can't be. I do not know what my wife will say. I had promised to buy a new bonnet for her and the girl. for her and the girl. Twenty-one fifty! Well, well, I suppose you kept it right. You wouldn't wrong a poor man who works hard for his money."

"It is correct. Your wife and daughter must not expect to dress as well as those who have a larger income. I think your wife is most too dressy, anyway. Have a drink, J?"

The manufacturer saw "the man who had not got his pay "take out of his pocket the money he had earned, count out $21.50, and hand it to the landlord. He went out of the hotel a wiser man than when he entered. The manufacturer went to his desk, took down a bundle of unpaid accounts, and commenced to figure up the worthless accounts that had accumulated in the ten years of his business life. He found the sum total to be $1,324.78. Of this sum he found that all but $113.19 was against men who had been ruined by drink.

THE ROBERTSONS,

or

PIONEER LIFE IN TEXAS. BY MARY C. BILLINGS.

CHAPTER VIII.

The school was organized with fourteen scholars, to be held four days in every week. Those who came fartherest, remained at Fair View

three nights, returning home Thursday after the last session.

Aunt Eunice erjoyed this opportunity of carrying the young folks along in their studies, and while rendering them excellent service endeared herself to all her pupils. In fine weather they met in an arbor that had been hastily constructed for the purpose. At other times, the annex consisting of one large room made of unhewn logs, was used.

The money compensation was not large, but Aunt Eunice considered her instruction to the children a labor of love; and was perfectly satisfied.

It was not considered safe to have a school house separate from a home. Not very long before this date a school teacher was killed by savages. One little girl who was caught and put on to a horse to be carried off, seizing her opportunity, and being very quick pulled herself free, and slid off the back of the animal, as her captor was passing over a deep gulch just after starting away. Fortunately the savages were being pursued and did not dare to turn back, thus the young girl who was almost thirteen years of age escaped.

Mr. Simpson came riding up one day after his two children, it being their time to return home from school.

Of course he was cordially invited to dinner, and while at the table said "I have heard so much about the snakes here in Texas, that I expected too see them on every hand, but yesterday I killed my first one, he was a highland moccasin and I'm afraid I've got a quarry of them out on a bank at the edge of the knoll in front of

my timber land, it was ugly looking creature and showed fight." I shant let the boys work out in that place without being furnished with an antedote." Turning to Mr. Robbertson he asked, "what do you think is the most effective cure." "Ammon

ia and whiskey.” he replied. It is also very important to have strings on hand, to make a tight ligature above the bite at the first possible moment to prevent the virus from entering the circulation." "Free applications of ammonia are immediately essential. "If you have some of it sufficiently diluted, a dose taken internally is helpful, but whiskey can be drank in great quantity without causing intoxication." "I snppose said Mrs. Emerson it is to be taken on the principle of "casting out Satan by Beelzebub." "Yes; of fire fighting fire." "It is the poision of the spirits that counteracts that of the snake." "I never keep the stuff in the house" replied Mr. Simpson, but think it may be well to get some and keep it as we do any other poison for extreme cases."

He

"By the way," remarked Mr. Emerson, "Old Col. L. was here the other day, came down from Evath County to see about some sheep. He is a very strong advocate of temperance which is to me a matter of surprise, and is as much opposed to whiskey and tobacco as we are." said, "Whiskey, tobacco, and strong coffee are three causes of so much. villainy in the state. They keep the brain in a ferment, and the passions excited, and the effect is all bad." "Good for him wasn't it? I was agreeably surprised; But he is a sound solid man for a Texan, and interested us all with a narrative of his sufferings in time of the war." "He was

a strong unyielding union advocate and suffered at the hands of the opposition enough to have killed an ordinary individual. It is a wonder that he lived through such a terrible ordeal!" "Yes," replied Mr. Simpson. gathering up his belongings, and the children to start homeward, it is wonderful how sometimes a person will endure such an amount of suffering,

As Mr. Simpson took his daughter on the saddle, with him, and with Tommy on his pony, started out from the enclosure, Emma said, "tell Sarah that the children have done nicely in their studies this week, and Lulu, be sure and show ma your copy book. She will be glad to see your improvement." Aunt Eunice had been a companion of Mrs. Simpson and the two women always spake of each other by their christian names. Occasionly itinrant ministers

came along, and held services in districts where there were settlements. For the most part they were illiterate, self-constituted teachers, possessed of some fluency of speech, that took with the ordinary Texan. There were it is true some honorable exceptions to this class, but they were few.

Educated as our colonists had been in intelligent communities, and possessing good advantages there, their intellectual development was far beyond the average of the people with whom they had to deal.

While appreciating the open hearted simplicity of these country people and their genuine kindness kindness, there was not much in habits or ideas, especially congenial. "They are all kind, so really kind and good," Mrs. Emerson said that one cannot help liking them. I wish we might be of service to them." "You are, and will be," replied her husband who was sitting by the fire, on the hearth, drying his feet one rainy night. "You cannot live your own lives here without influencing

66

those you meet; for I take it we all carry our own atmosphere about us, and in our intercourse with others, especially those whose opportunities have been limited, and their surroundings rude and poor, must influence them considerably."

The children were gathered around the table playing games, the lamp burned bright, mother and Eunice, were busy plying their crochet needles, on narrow strips of colored rags making mats for the bare places on the floors.

A sharp Norther had suddenly swooped down, and though it had now moderated into rain, the women with their northern forecast, decided to utilize what odds and ends they could find in the way of material for protection from the cold that came in through the cracks of the flooring.

The open fire place was a delight to them all, when Mr. Emerson and the boys finished it. "It made the home so homey" aunt Eunice said, "and when they did need a fire it was of the pleasantest kind."

The evenings at Fair View as the winter advanced, were made pleasant and helpful to the family by reading aloud each one taking turns, and then conversing on the subjects treated upon, in the books before them. In this way, they all reaped some profit as well as enjoyment, and when the spring opened, they had all gained something helpful in the way of information. A weekly paper, and two magazines from the North kept them informed of what was going on in the outside world, and formed connecting links still binding them to the old life while they were working out the problem of the new one, far away from the former.

At the end of her school Aunt Eunice gave a little entertainment to her scholars which was much enjoyed, not only by them, but also by the