but God only
can estimate the wealth that is about to roll into the lap of this
nation. Between five years ago, when I visited the South, and my recent
visit, there has been a change for the better that amounts to a
resurrection. The Chattahoochee is about to rival the Merrimac in
manufactures, and the whole South is being filled with the dash of
water-wheels and the rattle of spindles. Atlanta has already $6,000,000
invested in manufactures. The South has gone out of politics into
business. The West, from its inexhaustible mines, is going to, disgorge
silver and gold, and pour the treasure all over the nation. May God
sanctify the coming prosperity of the people. The needs are as awful as
the opulence is to be tremendous. In 1880 there were 5,000,000 people
over ten years of age in the United States that could not read, and over
6,000,000 who could not write, and nearly 2,000,000 of the voters. We
want 5,000 Cooper Institutes and churches innumerable, and just one
spiritual awakening, but that reaching from the St. Lawrence to Key
West, and from Barnegat Light-house to the Golden Gate. We can all
somewhere be felt in the undertaking. I like the sentiment and the
rhythm of some anonymous poet, who wrote:

"When I am dead and gone,
And the mold upon my breast,
Say not that he did well or ill,
Only 'He did his best.'"
--DR. TALMAGE.

* * * * *

GOODNESS.

Goodness needs no lure:
All compensations are in her enshrined,
Whatever things are right and fair and pure,
Wealth of the heart and mind.

Failure and Success,
The Day and Night of every life below,
Are but the servants of her blessedness,
That come and spend and go.

Life is her reward,
A life brim-full, in every day's employ,
Of sunshine, inspiration, every word
And syllable of joy.

Heaven to thee is known,
If Goodness in the robes of common earth
Becomes a presence thou canst call thine own,
To warm thy heart and hearth.

Clothed in flesh and blood,
She flits about me every blessed day,
The incarnation of sweet womanhood;
And age brings no decay.

* * * * *

XXXIX.

ILLUSIONS

"THEREFORE TRUST TO THY HEART, AND WHAT THE WORLD CALLS
ILLUSIONS."--LONGFELLOW.

This curious sentence of Longfellow's deserves reading again. He is an
earnest man, and does not mean to