d, the people unexpectant of a new prophet, unwarned of him and
unheeded. There he seems to have had no close personal followers to take
up the work just where he left it, and continue. The dwellers of India
were more happy in their entirety and more comfortable than the Jews,
hence there was no Deliverer to impress them forever with the gigantic
sacrifice of human frame and Divine soul.

St. Issa, one of the most revered prophets of the Buddhists, Jesus
Christ, the Man and God of all other men, the divine incarnation of the
ideal, are they the same? Why not?

IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD.

The Harts were going to give a party. Neither Mrs. Hart, nor the Misses
Hart, nor the small and busy Harts who amused themselves and the
neighborhood by continually falling in the gutter on special occasions,
had mentioned this fact to anyone, but all the interested denizens of
that particular square could tell by the unusual air of bustle and
activity which pervaded the Hart domicile. Lillian, the aesthetic, who
furnished theme for many spirited discussions, leaned airily out of the
window; her auburn (red) tresses carefully done in curl papers. Martha,
the practical, flourished the broom and duster with unwonted activity,
which the small boys of the neighborhood, peering through the green
shutters of the front door, duly reported to their mammas, busily
engaged in holding down their respective door-steps by patiently sitting
thereon.

Pretty soon, the junior Harts,--two in number--began to travel to and
fro, soliciting the loan of a "few chairs," "some nice dishes," and such
like things, indispensable to every decent, self-respecting party. But
to all inquiries as to the use to which these articles were to be put,
they only vouchsafed one reply, "Ma told us as we wasn't to tell, just
ask for the things, that's all."

Mrs. Tuckley the dress-maker, brought her sewing out on the front-steps,
and entered a vigorous protest to her next-door neighbor.

"Humph," she sniffed, "mighty funny they can't say what's up. Must be
something in it. Couldn't get none o' _my_ things, and not invite
_me_!"

"Did she ask you for any?" absent-mindedly inquired Mrs. Luke, shielding
her eyes from the sun.

"No-o--, but she'd better sense, she knows _me_--she ain't--mercy me,
Stella! Just look at that child tumbling in the mud! You, Stella, come
here, I say! Look at you now, there--and there--and there?"

The luckless Stella having been soundly c