Correspondence.

CHRISTIAN SKINFLINTS. MESSRS. EDITORS: There are curious amalgams in human nature; and the way in which love and selfishness, pride and jealousy, conceit and timidity, are mixed together in the same character, more than shakes one's belief in the accuracy of those philosophers who divide men into distinct parcels, labeling each tersely: "affectionate," "generous," "energetic," " confiding," and the like. The utmost we can get, with truth, is a preponderance of one ingredient; as when we say that a stew is too salt, or a pudding too sweet. But sometimes quite the opposite qualities seem to us so evenly balanced, that we scarcely know where to niche our composite friend. There is that warm-hearted woman who bullies her children and makes her husband's life a burden to him, yet who is overflowing with the milk of human kindness-granted, a little curable-substantially self-sacrificing in all essentials, but cursed with a hasty passion of temper she has never thought fit to curb; where would you place her?

She does the kindest things in the world, but she also causes the greatest amount of unhappiness. You cannot say she is a tender-hearted woman, though she will sit up all night with her sick neighbors, take charge of their children when their absence is required from home; relieve the wants of the poor, and give warm sympathy to the suffering; but how can she be tenderhearted, when she blazes out like a fury at the merest trifle, and scolds through her household like a whirlwind passing from room to room? She can be judged of only as a composite.

There is that rational, philosophical man, who has reduced human history to a residuum of averages, and all mysteries of life and death to a mere question of forces, making it a matter of profound indifference what men believe-all things being equally right and equally wrong-but who cannot be brought to forgive his son's indiscreet marriage, because it has offended his family pride and wounded his sentiment of social caste. How can you call him unprejudiced, far-seeing, and with a judgment

that penetrates beyond the outside of things, and goes right to the core of life! And yet he is all that in matters where his individuality is not concerned. But about his own social standing, he is as fierce and narrow and implacable as he is broad and loose in speculation and impersonal opinion. Where does he stand? What is he, but a composite, like that kind-hearted, fiercetempered friend over the way?-a creature not to be classed as one thing only, but to be parceled out as many, and to be understood only by the clearest and most subtle analysis. Then, again, where do we rank that ardent Christian who would go to the stake, if need be, to demonstrate his devotion to the faith-to whom the Bible is the all-in all of life, but who is also at the same time a sordid skin-flint, who scrapes the last bit of flesh from the bone, and even then grudges the marrow for gift meat? Where can he be niched? how catalogued? The very soul of Christianity is charity in more forms than one, truly; but in the form of generous giving among others.

And at the first blush of things one would be inclined to say that no man could be a Christian, in any real sense, who was not generous in judgment, open-handed to his poorer brethren, and with a profound abhorrence of close bargaining. Yet, holding for our own part to the obligation of charitable judgment as a part of the sine qua non of a Christian, how can we deny the merit of his creed to a man whose faith is so fervent, whose convictions are so deep-rooted? His rendering of Christianity may be different from ours, and his exemplification of his own life not such as we think best; but we cannot shut him out from the body; and he remains one of the brotherhood, for all that he is a sordid and suspicious skinflint, who cannot be brought to believe in the honesty of his neighbors, or accept the doctrine of their rights.

Most men are curiously illogical in their character, but the Christian skin-flint is the oddest contradiction of all.

It sounds something ilke cold fire and stony water. As a Christian he must have his charities; but to give, is to the skin-flint, torture; and to the political economist, immorality. And these opposing principles have to be reconciled. One lady does fancy

work, which she sells at prices quite as fan- nying that dualism is impossible; and in ciful as her labors; the proceeds of which | maintaining that every person must be cat

alogued under one head only, and no modifications allowed for. This very dualism we have been speaking of-this Christianity and skin-flintism-is a contradiction in terms, but not in fact; consequently, it exists as a composite characteristic among men and women, who are good according to their lights and sense. They are sincere believers in the Bible, and most of them read it assiduously, and hang their walls with texts, all preaching the same thing— obedience to God and love to men. They are desirous of saving their souls, and they hold by the obligations of charity as one of the means among others. They and such as they, however, ought to make us careful how we catalogue humanity; and especially lead us to doubt on concrete classification and lumping together in a whole characteristics which ought to be carefully analyzed and sifted; and even then credit given for unknown influences.

mild extortion, after deducting the full cost of the material rather over than under, she dedicates to charitable purposes, and so kills more than the traditionary couple of birds with one stone. For she amuses herself according to her taste, without cost; she makes a brilliant reputation among her friends for her dexterity and cleverness of fingers; and she is really quite heroic in her subscription. She could afford all that she gives in this way out of her private moneys, if she liked, but she could never bring her heart up to that measure. Another gives charity out of her savings, and her savings come from her bargains. She goes to market herself, and does her own shopping; when she has been clever enough to mulct the tradesman of a few cents or a dollar, she puts the parings she has gained, neither honestly nor nobly, into the pocket of her charities, and robs Peter that she may pay Paul. She thinks it no wrong if, all in the way of business, she cheats a poor trader out of his lawful margin of profit, provided she throws the proceeds of her theft into the treasury of the Lord. She REYNOLDSVILLE, PA., Dec. 13, 1877. has no idea of the Lord not quite liking MESSRS. EDITORS: In looking over the such addition to His treasury; of a widow's list of expelled members in the December mite honestly gotten and generously given JOURNAL, it occurred to me that there must ranking far above dollars of gold of such be something wrong somewhere to cause questionable mintage. A third, of the same all this neglect in paying their dues; the order, pares her very charities. She gives conclusion I have come to is that we have away both food and clothing on occasions; too many drone bees in the hive, and bebut the food is the poorest and the clothing cause the working members did not kill the meanest she can find. Again, there are them off sooner, but let them alone, they people who are really charitable in their | have hung themselves; now, why are they giving-generous, sufficient, almost lavish. hanging themselves and what is the real If a thing is to be a gift, they will spend | cause, is what we want to know. Now my their money royally, so far as the recipient is concerned; but they too will bargain to the last cent.

They cannot be convinced that the laborer is worthy of his hire. They want the laborer but object to the hire. These are the people who are praised for their generosity, or abused for their niggardliness, as the speaker has chanced to see them. They are like the famous shield, the on-lookers of which at either side were both right and both wrong.

The mistake lies in not recognizing that there are two sides, and the pedantry in de

Yours, &c.,

407

OLD RELIABLE.

opinion is this: when Mr. Gowen sent his contemptible notice to engineers to surrender their claims on the Brotherhood and become his slaves, the cry from all the engineers in the country was never submit to such unjust demands; we will stick by all of you." Some said they would give ten dollars some said fifteen, and twenty, while others said they would give one-half their pay if the men would come out and stick like men for their manhood and honor. This sounded well as talk, but what was the result? When our Reading Brothers surrendered their positions like true men, prefer

ring liberty to bondage, as all true men endowed with the sense of right and wrong would and should do; now, I ask, what was the result? It was this; and be it said with shame to many of the men whose names appear on the list as expelled, that when the Reading men did just as we had asked of them and our turn came to show our loyalty by helping them according to agreement, three columns are filled with the dishonored names in the expulsion columns of the JOURNAL; and why are they expelled? Just because they had not the manhood to come before the Division and there state their reasons for refusing to pay, but rather kept away from the Division and allowed their dues to remain unpaid until the officers of their respective Divisions were compelled to expel them. This is my opinion; and from close observation, I think it is nearly correct. But it is not to be considered any great loss to the order, as it is fire that separates the pure metal from the dross, and we can't tell what we are composed of until we are tried, and when trials come is the time to see who is worthy of the name of Brother and who is not. I am of the candid opinion that to-day, all members of the B. of L. E. in good standing are an honor to good society, also to whatever road they may be employed on; and that the officers of the roads where they are working will find them men that can be trusted.

Another thing is needed in our Order, namely: that all members of the Brotherhood subscribe for the JOURNAL; and let it be the duty of the officers of every sub-division to insist on all members taking it; and by so doing you will see less members expelled, as they will then be better posted in general affairs of the order; if this is tried I have no doubt but that good results will

follow.

I would also call the attention of all members to the address of our G. C. E., as it is well worthy of a careful perusal; it does honor to him and the body of men he represents. Now let us commence with the New Year and all take a special interest, and by this time next year if the Lord spares us we will see good results.

EX ENGINEER, Div. 80.

IF WE SHOULD MEET.

If we should meet-God grant we may-
If we should meet again,

As flow rets kissed by summer ray
Are sweeter after rain,

This pain shall make our joy more sweet,
If we should meet-when shall we meet?

The wind blows chill; and time flles fast
As in bright days of yore;

Oh! would the weary hours were past,
Until we meet once more.

Oh, Time! haste on with swift-winged feet,
Till we shall meet, till we shall meet.

But should the by-gone years have made
Your heart or mine, more cold;

If from our memory e'er could fade
The blessed days of old;

If Love's young pulse should cease to beat,
God grant that we may never meet!

Rather be this our last embrace,
Better forever apart,
Than meet together face to face,

And not meet heart to heart;
Nay, rather die, than think, my sweet,
That thus we two could ever meet!
By MRS. ELLA CLARK,
Wife of S. W. CLARK, L. E.

LIFE IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS upon the changing scenes of this world, we MESSRS EDITORS: Often, while looking "This is all a mockery, life is not what it are led to exclaim, almost involuntarily, seems." This world is made up of a singular combination of lights and shades. We behold darkness and sunlight, happiness fear, love and hatred, and so on through and grief, laughter and weeping, hope and the whole buondless list of events incident to the brief life of man, combined in one universal chaos. How exceedingly liable we are to be deluded by the glittering show of this world's wealth, or by the outward appearance of the man, while all is vile within. Shall we ever realize that all is not gold that glitters, or that happiness is not costly luxuries of this world? It often lies found in the gilded palace alone, or in the secreted in the abode of poverty, even where few would ever dream of finding it. A king may sit enthroned in all the pride of regal power and be surrounded by all the beauty, magnificence and splendor that his high station will command. His willing subjects bend the knee in his presence, or where he moves salute him with a cordial

1

welcome. Music may lavish her soothing charms upon his delighted ear; wealth, honor and power may be his; all the pleasures of this world may be at his command, his very wish a law, and obedient slaves be ever ready to execute his slightest request. Who would not say, surely he is a happy man. But let us follow him into his lonely retreat and behold him as he is. Upon his brow rests a cloud of care and upon his features are lines of sadness. Sleep is a stranger to his couch; frightful dreams and painful visions of the future attend him through the long and weary hours of the night, and earnestly does he watch for the first ray of light to dispel the fearful darkness. Peace with him is but a name and true happiness but a wished-for guest. While gazing upon this fancy, so cosily enveloped in sunny smiles, who could but exclaim: "Life is not what it seems."

wherever we may search for happiness; however hard we may strive to drown all sorrow, still we shall be forced to confess that "life is not what it seems. G. D. F.

DANVILLE, ILL., Dec. 5, 1877. MESSRS. EDITORS: I notice in the JOURNAL many pages, by different friends and Brothers, commenting on intemperance, and as your JOURNAL has taken such an active part in the great work, you will please find space for a short article. I have been an engineer, though not a member of your Order, but fully in sympathy with it, and also with the temperance cause. Intemperance not only destroys the health, but inflicts ruin upon the innocent and helpless; for it invades the social circle, and spreads woe and sorrow all around. It cuts down youth in all its vigor, manI now see before me one of poverty's hood in its strength, and age in its weakdeeply stricken children, almost unknown ness. It breaks the father's heart, and in the wide world. His miserable hut bereaves the mother, extinguishes natural scarce affords him a shelter from the howl- a ffection, erases conjugal love, blots out ing blasts of winter, or even the gentle filial attachments, blights parental hope, showers of summer. The absence of the and brings down mourning age in sorrow comforts of life is exhibited by the tat-to the grave. It produces weakness, not tered dress, and the hollow cheek and the strength; sickness, not health; death, not sunken eye speaking of want and suffering. Severe is his daily task to provide his scanty meal, and hard the couch that is to receive his weary limbs. Who can but say that hard is the lot of this unfortunate But ah! behold him returning from his task with the reward of his toil! A blissful smile is imprinted upon his brow as his little ones welcome him at the door of his lowly home with a shout of joy. An air of comfort reigns within, and as they gather around the humble board, they raise their grateful hearts to Him who is the author of all good. Short is the repose he enjoys, but contentment 'brightens all his dreams. Peace and innocence ever smile upon him, and amid all he is happy.

mortal?

Truly life is not what it seems. Thus it ever is, we see the eye sparkling with delight, and happiness beaming in the countenance, but were we permitted to gaze within we might find a heart where peace reigneth not, for underneath the sunniest smile may lurk the saddest heart. Thus it ever has been and ever will be,

life. It makes wives widows, children orphans, fathers friendless, and all at last beggars. It covers the land with idleness and poverty, disease and crime. It fills our jails and alms-houses, and furnishes subjects for the asylum. It engenders controversy, fosters quarrels, and cherishes riots. It condemns law and spurns order. It crowds the penitentiaries, and furnishes victims for the scaffold. It is the life-blood of the gambler, the food of the counterfeiter, and the prop of the highwayman. It countenances the liar, respects the thief, and esteems the blasphemer. It violates obligation, reverences fraud, and honors infamy. It defames benevolence, hates love, scorns virtue, and slanders innocence. It incites the father to butcher innocent children, and helps the husband to kill his wife. It burns man, consumes woman, detests life, curses God, and despises heaven. It suborns witnesses, nurses perjury, defiles the jury-box. It brings shame, not honor; terror, not safety; despair, not hope; misery, not happiness; and then, with the

malevolence of a fiend, it calmly surveys its frightful desolation, and, insatiate with havoc, it poisons felicity, kills peace, ruins morals, and laughs at the ruin it has inflicted upon the human race.

How many of us have seen a promising youth whose heart flowed a living fount of pure and holy feelings, which spread around and fertilized the soil of friendship, while warm and generous hearts crowded about and enclosed him in a circle of pure and God-like happiness, the eye of woman brightened at his approach, and wealth and honor smiled to woo him to their circle. His day sped onward, and as a summer's brook sparkles all joyous on its gladsqme way, so sped he on, blithesome amid the light of woman's love and manhood's eulogy. He wooed and won a maid of peerless charms-a being fair, delicate and pure, bestowed the harvest of her heart's young love upon him.

vice! Go to yonder lonely burial-ground, and ask who rests beneath its lowly surface. The moldering remains of a drunkard-one who possessed a heart overflowing with the milk of human kindness-the days of whose boyhood were hallowed by high aspirations--the hours of whose early manhood were unclouded by care and unstained by crime-the setting orb of whose destiny was enshrouded in the mist of misery and degradation. He saw the smiles of joy sparkling in the social glass; he noted not the demon of destruction lurking at the bottom of the goblet. With eager hands he raised the poisoned glass to his lips--and he was ruined!

It is liquor that mars the whole consistency and blights the noble energies of the soul. It wrecks and withers forever the happiness of the domestic fireside. It clogs and dampens all the generous and affectionate avenues of the heart. It makes man a drone in the busy hive of societyan incumbrance to himself and a source of unhappiness to all around him. It deprives him of his natural energies, and makes him disregardful of the wants of innocent beings who are nearest to him and depend

into a brute, and causes him to forfeit the affections and break the heart of the innocent and confiding being whom God made inseparable from himself, and who should look up to him for comfort, protection and support. It causes him contemptuously to disregard the kind admonitions of a merciful Saviour.

The car of time rolled on, and clouds arose to dim the horizon of his wordly happiness. The serpent of inebriation crept into the Eden of his heart-the pure and holy feelings which the God of Nature had implanted in his soul became polluted by the influence of the miscalled social cupent upon him. It transforms gifted man the warm and generous aspirations of his soul became frozen and callous within him; the tears of the wretched, the agony of the afflicted wife found no response within his bosom. The pure and holy fount of universal love within his heart, that once gushed forth at the moaning of misery and prompted the hand to administer to the requirements of the wretched, sent forth no more its pure fountain of benevolent offerings; its waters had become intermingled with poisoned ingredients of spirits, and the rank weed of intemperance had sprung up and choked the fount from whence the stream flowed. The dark spirit of poverty had flapped its wing over his habitation, and the burning hand of disease had seared the brightness of his eye, and palsied the elasticity of his frame. The friends who basked in the sunshine of his prosperity fled when the wintry winds of adversity blew harshly around his dwelling.

My dear friends, halt and consider before you fall into the clutches of this terrible

Liquor-oh! how many happy homes hast thou made desolate! how many starved and naked orphans hast thou cast upon the charity of an unfriendly world! how many graves hast thou filled with confiding and broken-hearted wives! What sad wreck hast thou made of brilliant talent and splendid genius!

For my part, I would to God there was one universal temperance society, and all were members of it! The glorious cause of the Churches would be advanced, and myriads of barefooted orphans and broken hearted wives would chant praises to Heaven for the success of the temperance cause; the lost would be reclaimed, and bleeding hearts healed. Oh! thou mighty