Widnes Examiner. — 1881-05-28 (Widnes, Cheshire, England)

THE LATE SIR CHARLES REED AND MR. PEABODY.— From his childhood Charles Reed was filled with a desire to be useful. The writer of this sketch spent some years with him at school, and for some time in the same class, and ' looking back on those distant days feels how true it was in his case that the child is the father of the man. The bright and sunny spirit, the genial and equable temper, and constant activity which were characteristic of his riper years, were with him as a boy. He was marked out for a course of active philanthropy, and even in those days was ready to interest himself in the work of the Sunday school or in other services of a like kind. This spirit had doubtless been - ---- ------- fostered in his home by the conversation and example of a A mart in Michigan, not long since, committed suicide by father who was one of the most energetic philanthropists of drowning. As the body coual not be found, the coroner his generation. For that father and his work the son had a held an inquest on his hat and j wket, found on the bank of profound veneration. On one occasion, when passing the lake. Verdict, "Found empty." through the hall at the Mansion House, where stands the "What! Twenty-five cents a pound for sausages? Why, statue of the founder of three orphanages and two asylums, I can get 'em down at Schmidt's for twenty cents !" "Vail, he saw one of the magnificent flunkies coolly hang his hit den, vy didn't yer ?" "'Cause Schmidt was out of 'em." ion the head. The son resenting the indignity, but too wise *Veil, nv I vos owit of 'em I sell 'em for dwendy cents, and self.controlled So express his anger, administered the doo !" most forcible rebuke by quietly removing the obnoxious • 'The Kansas newsrrapers declare that a physician of La ornament. An old gentleman standing by saw the whole Cygne, in that State, narrowly escaped lynching because he transaction, and made a simple observation to Sir Charles bevented a compound that would instantly sober a drunken in relation to it. "Dr. Reed was my father," was the quiet man. Public sentiment was against anything that tended but sufficient reply. The conversation ended, and the into cause a waste of liquor. cident would have been forgotten, but a short time after the The father of Duche, the painter, preached at a chapel in same unknown gentleman presented himself at the office of London, and it was fashionable to go and hear him. A lady, our friend, and said he had come to ask him to be one of his ' eery pretty, hut very pale when not assisted by art, said," We executors, adding, " I feel that so affectionate a sort must heard Parson Duche yesterday, and I saw his son, too, a be a true man." The stranger was George Peabody, and szie, handsome young man." " Ah, did you? He paints," this simple manifestation of filial reverence on the part of said a friend. " Dear me! is it possible? Well, I thought Sir Charles Reed opened the way to one of the most in. his colour unnatural !" exclaimed the lady. ferreting episodes in his life. He became not only the exAn Englishman having asked a son of Erin if the roads ecutor, but the friend of the distinguished American.—The in Ireland were good, Pat replied, "Yes, they are so fine Congregationalist. that I wonder you do not import some of them into Eng- THE MECCA OF NONCONFORMITY:A CoNTßAsr.—Aside Land. Let me see, there's the road to love, strewed with from the great thoroughfares, and yet not for from London, roses; to matrimony, through nettles; to honour, through large enough to be self-contained, and yet conscious of no the camp; to prison, through the law; and to the under- bustle, its spacious streets and tidy shops announcing industakers, through physic." "Have you any road to prefer- trious comfort, and its belt of villas suggestive of refined sosaid the Englishmen. " Yes, faith, we have, but ciety ; its margin laved with the winding Nan, and its ample that is the dirtiest road in the kingdom." meadows fragrant with cowslips and m ilch-k in e; th at shadowy How NOT To TEACH Posereems.—On teaching children , interest hovering over it in which historic minds invest the habits of politeness, the way how not to do it is exemplified I scene of old Parliaments and sieges, while meeting-houses, in the following dialogue :—" Go and say how do you do to reading-rooms, and railway stations flare besides medimval the lady,"my dear." "I don't want, ma!" "Come, now lanes in confidential proximity, like a British oak from a be a good boy." "I don't like." "Go at once, I say." "I ; Saxon acorn, still growthful and green of heart. Northwon't." The dialogue gets brisker. "It you don't do as ! amptott is one of those towns of good constitution, which you are told at once, sir, you shall be whipped." "I don't ' combine the freshness of youth with the sedateness of antare." The visitor interposes. "Please excuse him, dear I tiquity. To English Nonconformity, Northampton should Mrs. —. We'll take your greeting for granted. DIY little ;be a sort of Mecca. Three hundred years ago it gave birth Man." "NoP " replies the mother, "he shall do as he is told, !to Robert Brown, the father of English Congregationalism ; . i or if he doesn't "--" If he doesn't he shall be whipped," and within the last generatioas Northampton and its neighsxelsims the father, who appears on the scene. Theu the lbourhood have been a chief stronghold of the English Baptumult breaks out.—" Our Sons and Daughters," by Ernest itiets. It was here that the Rylands ministered—the elder Legmtud, of the French Academy. lin his orthodox vehemence a Boanerges, in his tender feelAN INNocescr