Earlier text: SYNOPSIS OF THE PRESENT TRUTHEdwards County and Temperance
THE inhabitants of Edwards county, Illinois, do not support anti-temperance societies or temperance lecturers, or spend their time talking about temperance. They decided twenty-five years ago that no liquor should be sold in the county, and since that date they have sent but one person to the penitentiary, and he committed a crime while drunk with whisky procured in another county. They support but two or three paupers, and their jail is empty most of the time. Their taxes are 32 per cent lower than the adjoining counties and their terms of court occupy three days in the year, while their tax rolls show that they return more property than any other county in the State of equal population. It is said that the inhabitants are unanimously opposed to license under any circumstances.—N. Y. Observer. FOR THE LOVE OF HIS MOTHER.
The late Col. Thomas H. Benton, author of the "Thirty Years' View," lived thirty years amidst all the temptations of fashionable, dissipated life in Washington, yet never could be tempted to touch his lips to a glass of liquor. At one time, being pressed by his friends to say why he was so severely strict in refusing to take a "social glass," he replied, with great solemnity: "My father died when I was eight years old, and my poor mother struggled hard to give me an education. On her deathbed she asked me to promise that I would never drink. I did so, and shall never break my promise." Col. Benton died at the advanced age of seventy-six. An Efficient Check on Liquor Traffic
An efficient check on the liquor traffic is in operation in St. Johnsbury, Vt. In that place only liquor for medicinal purposes can be sold, and that only by an appointed agent who must keep an accurate record of the date of sale, the name of the buyer, and the "denomination" of the liquor, which record is to be inspected weekly by an auditing board from the select-men of the town, and published in the weekly newspaper. A TRAMP.
By Rose Terry Cook
THAT is just it. I was a tramp! In the light of to-day I hate to admit it, but I must. I had been a machinist, with a pretty, gentle wife, good wages, a pleasant home; and then the hard times came. Hard enough they were to millions beside me, but I did not think of them. I had more means than many others I knew—food, if it was coarse, fire enough for warmth—but what I wanted, cried out for, raged that I could not get, was delicate living and luxuries for Annie, for she was dying. I know now nothing could have saved her; consumption is helpless and hopeless; but one day when I went down to the Charleston steamer the day she sailed, to adjust some little matter in the machinery that they thought out of gear, I saw the wife of one of the firm for whom I worked up town brought on board to go to Florida for the winter. She looked a little like Annie; her eyes were clear and gray too, and her face wan and sweet. She was wrapped in soft shawls and lying back in a chair carried by two servants; a kind-faced nurse was with her and her husband beside her. I had a glimpse of her state-room as I passed through the cabin, for they were arranging it so that she might be settled before the rest of the passengers came aboard. It was like a nest, crowded with comfort. If I could have stolen that fur-lined cloak and that swing-chair I would have done it; as it was, I swore. What had this woman done to have all, and my patient wife to have nothing? I kept thinking of all this; brooding day and night as wages grew lower and work less, and Annie faded away. She was a good woman, that wife of mine, and not a bit afraid to die; but she was afraid to leave me in the furious bitterness of my condition then. One day I came home and found her paler than ever. I had brought her an orange, but she could not taste it. I sat down by the lounge and she put her thin, white hands in mine. “Frank,” she said in a whisper, “when I am dead try to be good; try to know God. I couldn’t talk about it, dear; but I have prayed. God is good, Frank. I know it. I am going home.” I could not bear this. I did not believe in it. God good, and Annie dying while that other woman was saved by the money I had as good a right to have as Jim Lawrence! I knew afterward that all the luxuries he lavished on his wife were as useless as the coarse shawl and common food I gave mine. She died before Annie, and away from him. I stooped down to kiss my wife and stop her from such talk. Her lips were cold; her hot hand grew chill in mine; her great gray eyes looked at me with one bright look of love, and then closed. Annie had gone away. Well, why should I work after that? I went to hear Communist harangues, and learned the stale old story that property was robbery. Why was Mr. Lawrence rich and I poor? It was an outrage! Society owed me a living, and I would have it as well as he. I did not stop to consider that he was once poorer than I and had worked successfully for his money, or to ask why society owed me a living. I took the specious arguments of demagogues for what they were on the surface. They suited my fury against man and my ignorance of God too well not to be adopted. It was May when the Iridion Works closed, but I had not worked there for two months. I had lived on what few dollars I had left after Annie was buried, and now and then I got a porter’s job, for I was as strong as a horse. Still, I always expected to go back to the Works if the worst came to the worst, and when they closed up for want of orders I felt as if I had nothing to stay in the city for, and like a great many others I made up my mind that since I was born into the world it should give me a free living. I went on the tramp. I can’t say I liked it at first; it was a great while before I could sleep well in a barn, or under an old musty hay-stack, but I had grit enough left to persist, and the lazy life, the fresh air, the trees, and grass, and creatures, all so different from the grimy shop and dirty streets, did seem amazing pleasant. I suppose living this sort of life changed me inwardly, too. I got to feel more like a wild beast. I liked to see women shut and lock the door when they saw me come into the yard, and hand out the food I asked for through the window. How I used to scare them! I don’t wonder. I was big, dirty, ragged, and full of bad thoughts that showed out in my face and ran over my lips. I would not have stopped at knocking any man who came across my way, but they generally let me alone. After awhile I got a revolver. It was never loaded, but it was just as good to frighten women with, and many a one fetched me warm food and drink when I let them see it. I did like to see them turn white and shiver. I was so angry with everything that I liked to terrify and hurt everybody I could. “Hateful and hating one another;” that is about as near my state then as I can tell it. So I tramped all summer. I did not think often about Annie. I didn’t like to, for good enough reasons. By September I had got way up into Vermont, among the hills, and began to think I must work back to the city, when one day I stopped at an old red farm-house between Tyson and Ludlow to get some dinner. There was a little sort of stoop built out under the roof of the ell part, and the kitchen door opened into it. There was a row of bright milk-pans standing against the wall, to sun, and a bunch or two of herbs hanging up by the door. A great yellow cat ran away when it saw me, and eyed me from under a bench in the woodshed. It was a poor place enough, but looked thrifty and comfortable. I knocked, and a young woman opened the door directly. I never saw such a steady face; her eyes were brown, and looked straight at you like a robin’s; her mouth was as pure and clean as a child’s, and her firm cheeks showed a healthy even color of pink. Her hair was so tidy, so shining, her calico gown and check apron so perfectly neat, that she seemed somehow as if she was just new, every way. I did not say anything at once, for I felt so dirty and so bad the minute I looked at her. “Well?” she said, in a cool sort of voice, “do you want anybody?” “I want something to eat,” said I gruffly. “We never give to tramps,” she answered, without any change of tone. “I have got to have it!” said I as crossly as I could. “We have nothing for you,” said she, quite unmoved. “Come, hurry up! I’ve got to have my dinner, and you’d better get it for me pretty quick,” I called out with an oath, taking out my pistol and handling it as a threat. Her eyes grew a little darker at that, and she smiled; she was not scared a mite; she only said, very quietly— “If any man will not work neither should he eat.” “That may be your opinion, miss, but it isn’t mine. The world owes me a living and I’m bound to have it,” I growled back. “How so?” she answered. “What have you done for the world to put it in your debt?” I couldn’t answer this question; it was like a blow in the face; so I swore again and demanded some dinner. “I shall not give you any,” she said, quite as calmly as ever. “If you were sick, or feeble, or crippled, helpless in any way, it would be different; but you are a strong, likely man, and you can earn your living just as well as I can.” I looked at her slight, straight figure. “Do you work for a living?” I asked. “Yes; I have worked ever since I was six years old. I was bound out then, and I worked at whip-braiding. I haven’t any relations—any near ones I mean; there is nobody to take care of me. I have to work, and I am glad I can.” I swore a very common oath, calling on God to punish me if I would stand that if I were she. “Don’t do that again!” she said. “If you want to be lost call upon Satan; he hears such requests gladly. God is your Father; he does not like to punish you even if you ask him to; he’d ever so much rather forgive you.” I never was so taken back. “Look here,” I said, after a moment, “don’t you think it’s outrageous that a pretty-behaved girl like you should be working for a living when there’s thousands of women no better than you be rolling in their carriages?” “No. God put me here, and them there. He knows best.” “Well, you seem to think God knows a good deal. I claim to know some things myself; and I believe folks all have equal rights.” “Do you?” she said, “So do I; some rights. Rights to get ready to die and to serve God while we live.” She stepped out of the door and picked up a red leaf from the grass. “Can you make such a leaf as that?” she asked, holding it out to me. Why, I knew I couldn’t; and so did she. “Till you can, I expect you had better believe God knows more than you do.” I turned and went out into the yard. I couldn’t stand her talk, but I could not get away from it. I never seemed so mean to myself before. Here was I, strong, healthy, even a skilled workman, tramping about the country begging! I never had called it begging before but I knew now what it was, for I seemed to look out of her eyes. About God; well, if there was a God he must know more than I did or he couldn’t be God; perhaps I had made a mistake after all. Jim Lawrence must be a rich man because he had more brains than I, with the same chances; and who was to blame about the brains? I sat down by a little pond there was near by and fell to thinking, when all of a sudden I looked down into the water and saw—a tramp! A big, dirty, ragged tramp. I wondered that the girl had spoken to me at all, and then I thought what Annie would have said to see me like that. The blood seemed to come to my head. I tried to be honest inside, and look things square in the eye. I could not help seeing how little good I had done myself by leaving work. I used to be a good-looking sort of fellow when I was cleaned up for a Sunday, not like this great brute staring up at me out of the still water. I did not do much that minute, but I could wash my face, and I did. It was just a beginning, you see; then I got up on my feet and tramped off toward Ludlow. An old woman a mile further on gave me some bread and milk, because I asked for it civilly I suppose, and by night I had got on to the station next below Ludlow, and seeing some hands at work loading a freight car I put in and helped. One of them gave me my supper for that, and let me sleep in a barn; it did seem better than begging. The next day I sold my revolver and got a jacket, and before long got a place on the freight line where I could work my passage back to the city; I could get a lodging there I knew, for I had two dollars left after buying the jacket. I found the Iridion Works shut up still, but I hunted out Mr. Lawrence. I told him all about it—all but that girl—and he gave my hand such a grip! “My wife’s gone too,” he said; and then he sort of choked. Somehow, for all he was a rich man with a great house and I a poor devil of a tramp, there seemed to be something we had together. I remembered his wife’s great sad eyes, and her tired face; money hadn’t saved her after all, and his business kept him to home; he didn’t have hold of her hand when she died. Well, he sort of cleared his throat then, and he said:— “I’m just going to dinner, Reed; come around to my office on Front Street in the morning and I’ll find you a job.” And he said it so hearty like I knew he meant it. He was as good as his word. I got work from him right off, and after a while, when I could buy decent clothes, I took to going to meeting; for I could not get what that girl said, when I swore, out of my head. I have got a Bible, too. I know Annie would like that; but I had to shut it up quick one day when it opened at a sentence about “the horrible pit and the miry clay.” I had been there myself, you see! Though the sky is dark above us
And the waves are dashing high,
Let us struggle toward the beacon,
We shall reach it by-and-by.
'Tis the light of God's great mercy,
And he holds it up in view,
As a pole-star to his children,
As a guide to me and you. Oh, the light is flashing brightly
From the calm and stormless shore,
Where we hope to cast our anchor
When our voyaging is o'er. - The rebellion in Upper Burmah has ended.
- Bishop Haven will be resident in San Francisco.
- "130 in the shade" is the report from Tucson, Arizona.
- President Hayes will come to California early in September.
- Heavy floods are reported in the Willamette and Snake rivers.
- Loss by a fire in King's Fruit Cannery in San Francisco was $50,000.
- There is no hope of ascertaining the number lost on the Narragansett.
- The 16,000 churches of the Methodist Episcopals owe an aggregate of $7,000,000.
- The loss by the Titusville fire was one and a half million dollars, with little insurance.
- Rosedale and Co.'s furniture factory in Baltimore, burned June 19, involved a loss of $200,000.
- By an accident in a shaft at the Yellow Jacket mine in Virginia, Nev., six men were killed.
- Another American vessel reports having been fired into by a Spanish cruiser. Spain loves trouble.
- A hurricane in the neighborhood of Petersburg, Va., June 12, did much damage to buildings and crops.
- The Reno Journal says the farmers in Nevada are becoming thoroughly alarmed over the rapid increase of grasshoppers.
- The local option resolution passed in the British House of Commons, June 18. It was rejected in several previous sessions.
- The Leadville strike is reported ended, after much trouble, and much evil, the miners resuming work at the old wages.
- The Conference of the Nations is in session at Berlin; but nobody expects that Turkey can be induced to keep her promises.
- Santa Cruz boasts a newly-found attraction—a cave both extensive and beautiful, which may prove a rival of the finest in the country.
- The prospect is that Napa valley will have a much larger grape crop than ever it had before, and the prices will be higher.
- A tract distributor in Dublin has been fined twenty shillings for offering to a Roman Catholic priest a printed invitation to a meeting.
- It is estimated that the late North wind will cause a decrease of the wheat crop in the Sacramento and San Joaquin valleys of about 15,000,000 bushels.
- On May 30 the sermon of T. K. Butcher in Elmira, N. Y., was taken down in the Gazette office in Williamsport, seventy-eight miles distant, being connected by telephone.
- The first National Bank of Brattleboro, Vt., has failed through the swindling operations of its President, Waite. The amount of loss will reach nearly half a million.
- A certain "Professor Northrup," speaking in Faneuil Hall, said that "science" has discovered that man, instead of being a little lower than the angels, is only a little above the apes!
- Col. Gordon, says a Bombay correspondent, has gone to China to persuade the Chinese against war with Russia. Reports say that Russian troops are pressing eastward, and much uneasiness is felt in Russian-Turkestan.
- Congress adjourned on the 16th inst. As the nominations may be considered made, the members think they can now better serve their parties in the field than in Washington. Nothing else could induce them to adjourn.
- Ireland yields, poor as it is, $25,000,000 to the British revenue for the tobacco, whisky, ale, and porter consumed by its people. And its contributions to the Pope have been largely kept up in the midst of its destitution.
- H. M. Paul, of Dedham, Mass., a graduate of Dartmouth College, and now Assistant Observer at the Naval Observatory at Washington, has received the appointment of Professor of Astronomy in the University at Tokio, Japan.
- The last census in France showed that there were 35,387,703 Roman Catholics, 467,531 Calvinists, 80,117 Lutherans, 33,119 of other Protestant denominations, and about 50,000 Jews. Only 90,000 reported as belonging to no church.
- The Oakland Times says the religion of the White House will be changed from Methodist to Baptist, as Garfield belongs to the latter denomination. A mistake. Garfield belongs to the Disciples, popularly known as "Campbellites."
- In testimony given in the contest over the will of Mrs. Doursey, Jefferson Davis swore to his belief that "the Confederacy still existed." We do not understand those Southrons who professed to "accept the situation after the war," and who yet indorse Jefferson Davis.
- Rev. George A. Peltz, the Baptist minister and Sunday-school worker, denies the charge of adultery, and the church exonerates him. But he confesses to such imprudence of conduct as to "compromise the reputation of a certain lady," and therefore retires from the ministry.
- The "famine fever" has appeared in West and South Ireland.
- A hurricane in Pittsford, N. H., destroyed property valued at $100,000. A great amount of timber was blown down.
- The Greek government is taking measures to increase its army from 12,000 to 40,000 men. She is suspicious of any promises to do her justice. Other small States manifest a like want of confidence in the overtures for the settlement of grievances.
- The village of Homana, in the county of Zemplin, has been destroyed by fire. Many of the inhabitants were burned and others injured. The famine having raged since the beginning of the winter, the misery is indescribable. One thousand and eleven houses were burned in Hungary during May.
- General Sutter, the pioneer of California, at whose mill gold was discovered, died in Washington, June 18. He was possessor of a Mexican grant, the Mexican government having appointed him Governor. In the changes of government he lost his estate, and died poor. He was born in Baden in 1803.
- Though Indiana had one of the best "war Governors," it had the misfortune to have her U. S. Senator expelled for treason. Now its Supreme Judges have immortalized themselves by declaring amendments to the Constitution unconstitutional! Congress should ask leave of Indiana authorities to open its next session.
- The Negro Exodus has commenced again, and according to reports has but barely commenced, though large numbers have arrived in St. Louis. There will be a general leaving in Mississippi and Louisiana, as they expect another "bull-dozing" in the coming political campaign. Many who have been successful in business are leaving all to get away.
- Minister Angell arrived in San Francisco the 12th, and the Commission left for China the 17th. To a reporter of the Alta Pres. Angell said: "The excitement, almost continually kept at fever heat, against the Chinese by Kearney, manufactures eastern sympathy for the Chinese. The more they are abused and threatened by Kearney and the sand-lotters, the more they are pitied and their part is taken."
THIS INSTITUTION is located about two and a half miles from St. Helena, Napa County, California, at the The water is clear, pure and cool. The facilities for heating water, and bathing, are unsurpassed. The situation is both pleasant and healthy, it being about 300 feet above the valley. The scenery is unsurpassed for beauty, including a view of valley and mountain. The building is spacious, and the table accommodations are first-class. The institution is just opened. The medical department is under direction of E. J. Waggoner, M. D., who has had experience in practice in the Medical and Surgical Sanitarium at Battle Creek, Mich. Those who seek medical treatment under favorable and health-giving conditions, and those who seek a pleasant resort from the heat and business of the city, cannot fail to be pleased at the Retreat. Terms reasonable. For particulars address A. B. ATWOOD, ST. HELENA, CAL. DIED in Peoria, Hill Co., Texas, our dear Sister Rosa Chrisman, in the 30th year of her age. Consumption had marked her for its victim; for three years she had wrestled with her foe, and on Sabbath May 30, 1880, she yielded to its power. At an early age she gave her heart to the Lord, and united with the Baptist church. About two years ago she embraced the truth of the Third Angel's Message by reading and with greatly increased piety and zeal she has served the Master. At the organization of the Texas Sabbath-school Association she was elected secretary, and with ability and energy she has magnified her office. In her death the association has lost an efficient, devoted, officer; the tract and missionary and vigilant societies an earnest, active worker; the Sabbath-school a live teacher, a sedulous student; and the church a consistent faithful member. In her last utterances she stated that she wanted to live to labor in the Master's cause. She leaves a large family of brothers and sisters who deeply feel their loss. We sorrow with them, but not as those who have no hope. We laid her away to rest from her labors with a bright hope of again greeting her when the Life-giver comes. Words of comfort by the writer from Rev. 14:13. R. M. KILGORE. DIED of consumption and cancerous tumor, at our residence in Rensselaer Falls, St. Lawrence Co., N. Y., April 30, 1880, our dear aunt, Miss Lina Otis, in the seventy-eighth year of her age. She had lived with us twelve years, and during this time she had observed the Sabbath with us. She suffered a great deal, but was very patient. Words of comfort by G. A. Rockwood, Congregationalist. Text: "The Master is come, and calleth for thee." A. and O. A. THOMPSON. DIED at the residence of her son, Wilson Thompson, near Rensselaer Falls, St. Lawrence Co., N. Y., April 9, 1880, our dear mother, Mrs. Rhoda Thompson, in the seventy-ninth year of her age. About thirty years ago she and her entire family were converted to the Advent doctrine, under the labors of Eld. Wm. S. Ingraham, and four years later they all embraced the Sabbath of the Lord our God. She always gave the servants of God a cordial greeting, and for years her house was their home. Her death was sudden. Words of comfort were spoken by Bro. Chas. Lewis. A. and A. O. THOMPSON. Books, Pamphlets, and Tracts Available
By Editor
ANY of the books, pamphlets and tracts issued at this Office, may be obtained of Eld. J. N. Loughborough, Ravenswood, Shirley Road, Southampton, England, who will furnish catalogues and prices in English money, and receive subscriptions for all our periodicals.