Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1871-11-22

as SlCll would surely loHt bbtil llN9AN anu Viz
nifty. Amongst the members of the society who
have turned from the drug-encumheTed high
road into the smooth paths and pleasant mea-
dows discovered and celebrated by Hahnemann,
arc Drs Gregg, De Guersdorif, Hofendahl, Tai
bot and few other popular practitioners in the
city.
Last evening, nj the house of Mr.. John T. Sar-
gent, Mrs, Julia Ward Howe read paper which
she called "a Dream of Philosophy" and which
was, she said, an essay in moral trigonometly
In paror she is a charming reader. There is
something indescribably fascinating in her voice,
face and manner which draws you on to listen
to her, and TO half believe in the importance of
what she says. This essay was full Of fancy
grace and mysticism. Il dealt with triangles
and triads architectural, geomCtrcal, political,
theological and moral; and yet seemed to have
in it some good wholesome teachings; something
like the plain old-fashioned celebrations to be
as good as you can now, and 10 grow better as
you grow older, but so draped and adorned af
ter the fashion of Boston culture, that at first
they seemed like new creations of high phiIos-
ophy; then the dear, familiar face OF mercy
peeped through the veil Of eliminated animosi-
ties" and the whole troop of virtues revealed
themselves, and when we got a little used to
them, we liked them almost as well in their fine
clothes as in the plain ones to which we are
more accustomed.
This morning, Mr.. Christopher p. Cranch
read poem before the radical club He called
it The Bird and The Bell One fair morning in
Florence, when nature was at her loveliest, he
sa listening with delight to the glad music of
the song ofthe sweetest of birds, when the caug
of the church bells arose. calling the city to
morning prayer; and the loud sound drowned
the song, and drove away the bird. On this in
cdent Mr.. Cranch founded a poem on there
ligious and political condition of Italy, and the
injurious and overpowerng influence of the Ro-
man church. The poem was read perfectly; dis
proving Mrs. Browning'S words that
"Your poets never read their own best verses TO
their worth
For the echo in You, breaks upon the words which
you are speaking.
And the chariot wheels jar in the gate through
which you drive them forth"
When the poem was finished Mr.. Bartol said
that thirty-fye years ago he and Mr.. Cranch
were fellOw-students, and as he listened to him
to-day he was glad to find that he was still
Christopher Then he told the pretty legend Of
ST. Christopher, and how he won his name of
Christ-bearcr. Mr.. John S. Dwight was another
class-mate of the poet and he spoke of musc
and the talk flowed on, taking up now song,
and then some form of theology The state
ment that Calyinism could not be sung, and
some other hard things said of it, moved Mr..
Towne to defense Of the really noble theology
of Calvin, and Of Athanasius and of the mag
nificent tfanscendentaliSm of Jonathan Ed
wards. Rev. C. 6. Ames, of California, with
| his face and voice full Of strength and cheer
| made good speech in favor of justice to all
sects and parties. He said that all isms are
fingers pointing where some truth lies. all have
their place and serve some end. He believed in the
| Apocayptc chorus, in which every creature in
heaven and on earth and under the earth, and
such as are in the sea, sing blessing and honor
and glory and power be unto Him that stitch
upon the throne, forever and ever.
There was place for the POEMS grand ours
ing of the Roman Catholic church; and place
for that church, too. We do not yet know its
place in history. 1t never was so vigorous as
now, especially in this country, and relieved
Il
power, it goes on conquering and to conquer
Its mission cannot be all evil and it may find
its fulflment in the future when it has been
moulded by other forces in wayne cannot
now see. All institutions are for use aud not
for abuse; they are mans chest of tools, and as
he grows in knowledge, he will use them more
and more wisely, until he makes them do per-
| feet work.
The meeting was very large, and good many
persons joined in the conversation, which was
more interesting and pointed than usual; but
after all, the effect of all such talks is to make
one feel for awhile that all things are pretty
much alike, and Emerson's Brahma is the SUI
premc expression;
| "Far or forgot to me Is near;
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
| The vanished gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.
They reckon i'll who leave me out;
| When me they fly, am the Wings
| am the dOubter and the DOUBT
| And the hymn the Brahma sings"
| DR.. Sauyeu's French lectures win golden
opinions from good judges, and wish had
| the power TO describe his school; for one can 90
to no more delightful place. His clearness in
| teaching sweeps all cObwebs and mists from
| your brain; his enthusiasm fills you with fresh
life, and during the two hours lesson, learning
French seems the first duty and the greatest
| pleasure in life.
| Miss Cushman still plays 10 crowded houses
Last Saturday Miss Kellogg was present at the
| last performance of Henry VIII. Between the
acts she was introduced to Miss Cushman,
and was so pleased with her hearty kindness, that
she volunteered TO sing the solo in CANCELS ever
bright and fair" which comes in the death
scene of the queen The audience was startled
and enchanted when, as the vision appeared
| her glorious voice was heard with thrilling eff
| feet, from behind the scenes. This Is one of the
lovelicst stories ever told of ahectonate recog-
milton and courtesy between great artists,
| When | wrote you about Miss Cushman's
| Queen Katherine, had not read CampbclFs life
| of Mrs. Siddons; but | have since seen there an
account of Mrs Siddons' Queen Katherine,
| written by the actor Ferry, who was a stage
| artist; first published by James Baantyne of
Edinburgh, and quoted by Campbell, which is
worth looking up and reading, for every word
Oft is true OF Miss Cushman to-day,
| A CURIOUS IsLE.-AIr. Macgreeor, who has
| been cruising in Holland with his Rob Roy. the
| the unique little island of Marker: A thousand
10 tisraI Ill