tant intrinsically as well as a symptom. It did four years ago in behalf of the people of provides for a Dominion arbitration board, THE LATE WILLIAM TAYLOR, Church. It is not unlikely that even in this country contracts between cities and public ownership corporations will before long include provisions for the arbitration of disputes with the employes of the franchise-owning companies. The right to impose such a condition is undeniable, and the question of its expediency is answered more and more in the affirmative. Israelite Alliance. There is tremendous activity among the Jews in America. A part of this activity has merely benevolent aims behind it, but most of it is due to religious zeal. An Israelite Alliance has been formed to induce, if possible, the United States government to interpose in behalf of Jews in Russia, as it Cuba. The ancient friendship of Russia is to be presumed upon to gain a favor. There is to be an effort made at Basle in August to have the Zionist Conference of the world meet in America in 1903. This conference was orginally named for Munich, but so much local feeling sprang up in that South German anti-Semitic city that all conferences thus far have been held in Basle. The Zionist movement is making steady progress in this country. The question of a Sunday instead of a Saturday Sabbath was discussed by the last meeting of the National Conference of Jewish Rabbis, and made no end of talk among the Jews of the country. The leaders of the latter say the rabbis should not have discussed such an impossible topic, and that Judaism cannot be Judaism without a Saturday Sabbath, but all the same the agitation will not cease. Finally the new movement among students for a larger knowledge of that Judaism that gave Christianity its Christ is most marked, and few men have been more warmly welcomed to America than Dr. Solomon Schechter, the new president of the Jewish Theological Seminary who recently arrived. Money for Missionary Bishops. The axiom, obtaining among Episcopalians, that a new missionary bishop can always be counted upon to raise up his own financial support was well proven by Bishop Brent who was elected to the Philippines last October, and sailed for Manila a few weeks since with nearly $300,000. This money is for the endowment of the episcopate, the erection of a cathedral, bishop's residence, seminary and preparatory school. It seems to fall naturally to the Episcopalians to provide in Manilla, Havana, and San Juan places of public worship for the English-speaking, and especially the official classes. A bishop of Porto Rico is about to be consecrated, and to return to San Juan to become the head of a movement attended and supported by the foreign population. In Havana there has been less accomplished, but progress is soon to be made there, it is said. ក THE BARONS OF GEMPERLEIN. "The Two Countesses.") BY MARIE VON EBNER-ESCHENBACH. HE family of Gemperlein is a noble and very old one. Its varied fortunes are woven most closely with those of the Fatherland. Many a time it has prospered gloriously, and many a time has fallen into misfortune and poverty. The members of the house themselves have been to blame for the rapid changes. Never did nature create a patient Gemperlein; never one but could justly have adopted the surname of the "Fighter." This strong family trait was common to all; whereas there are no sharper contrasts than those exhibited by the different Gemperlein generations in regard to their political convictions. While some passed their lives with the sword in hand to prove their devotion to the ancestral ruler and to seal it with their blood till the last drop was shed, others constituted themselves champions of revolt and died as heroes for the cause, as enemies of the ruling powers and as fierce contemners of subjection. The loyal Gemperleins were raised to honor and dignity and invested with lands; the rebellious, for their no less energetic resistance, were banished and declared to have forfeited their goods. So it came to pass that this old house, like many another, could not rejoice in an ancestral estate transmitted since time immemorial from father to son. At the close of the eighteenth century there was a baron, Peter von Gemperlein, the first of his warlike race, who had served as an officer in the civil service, and, in the evening of his life, obtained a fine estate in one of the most flourishing districts of Austria. There at a very advanced age he ended his days, at peace with God and the world. He left behind him two sons, the Barons In these last two scions, the Gemperlein nature (which in the father seemed to have belied itself) was its old self again. They brought to light, as had never happened before in one and the same generation, both types of the house, the feudal and the radical Gemperlein. Frederic, the elder, according to his inclination was educated for the army, at the military academy at New Vienna. Louis, in his eighteenth year, entered the University of Göttingen, and returned home in his twenty-second, with a big scar on his face, and the idea of a world-republic in his heart. Fifteen years of a fruitless struggle carried on with vigor and boldness, caused the brothers to perceive that the world had nothing in store for them, that Frederic's time was past, and Louis's not yet come. The former laid down his sword again, tired of serving a monarch who wished to live in peace with his people. The latter turned away in anger from a people, who, willing and content, bowed the neck under the yoke of authority. Frederic and Louis settled at the same time on their estate, Wlastowitz, and devoted themselves with love and enthusiasm to its cultivation. Although the barons differed from each other as yes from no, they resembled one another in one cardinal point, in the unspeakable devotion they conceived for their dear country abode. No tender father ever spoke the name of his only daughter in more melting tones than they were accustomed to pronounce the name "Wlastowitz." Wlastowitz was to them the sum and substance of everything good for Wlastowitz, no praise exhaustive. Each said" My Wlastowitz," and each would have taken it ill of the other had he not so designated it. and beautiful. No sacrifice was too great when Louis came galloping into the castleyard through the southern gate, his horse covered with sweat and foam, his small, delicate face as yellow as a head of wheat toward the end of June, and a dark cloud on his thoughtful forehead. He entered the dining-room with a commanding air. There sat Frederic, too much absorbed in the Imperial Vienna Gazette to be able to notice his brother's entrance. The latter immediately unfolded the Augsburg Gazette, holding it with his left hand, while he poured out a cup of tea with his right. They read assiduously, breakfasted hastily, and then smoked very vigorously their Turkish pipes. Soon after their arrival, the brothers had determined to divide the paternal inheritance into two equal portions. The castle with its appurtenances, should remain in the possession of Frederic, who in return agreed to let Louis erect in the midst of his territory the block-house in which he intended to live and die, at the head of the family which he expected to establish. The division was many times and warmly discussed, but really to carry it into effect. seemed to require long deliberation. One can make such a resolution with comparative ease, but its execution is gladly postponed from year to year. Which piece, which little strip of land, which clod, even, of the dear earth was either of the brothers to relinquish? It would cut to the heart either of them to divide into two imperfect portions the tract of land which as a whole was perfect and without equal. Nevertheless, the boundary line between upper and lower Wlastowitz had long been recorded on the official maps of the estate; the plans of Louis's block-house lay well guarded in the archives, and once it happened but we will not anticipate the inevitable catastrophe of this true family history. The life which the barons led in the country was regular in the extreme. Both left the castle very early in the morning and rode together, in the summer in the fields; in the winter in the forest. Yet it seldom happened that they returned together. Generally Frederic came first, riding slowly home through the chestnut avenue lying toward the north, with very red cheeks and gleaming eyes. His private attendant of former times and present valet, Anton, received the order, "Serve breakfast," and "for one alone," he would add. Anton went slowly to the kitchen door, waited a few minutes, and then called out suddenly, "Breakfast for the barons!" That was the moment The two barons sat opposite each other in their stiff-backed chairs, enveloped from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot with dense smoke, out of which from time to time could be heard a muttered oath or an angry exclamation, as the forerunner of an approaching storm. Suddenly one or the other would exclaim: "Oh, what a jackass!" and a paper flew under the table. The political debate was begun. Generally it became very warm, and after it had lasted about a quarter of an hour, closed with a mutual “Go to the —.” But there were days in which Louis's especially irritable temper brought a change into the ordinary course of events. He then used language so violent and offensive that Frederic scorned to reply. His open and usually friendly countenance would have an obstinate look, and around his mouth would be an expression of implacable wrath, every hair of his mustache would seem to stand out defiantly; he would get up, seize his hat, call his brown, short-haired terrier, and silently leave the room, his broad back and powerful shoulders somewhat bent, as if he bore a heavy burden. Louis noticed it all, although he seemingly hardly glanced at him, murmured a few unintelligible words, and read his paper through with all the attention a man can muster who has so nearly lost command of his thoughts. Soon, however, he arose and began to stride noisily through the room. His expression became more and more severe; he threw back his head and bit his under lip; his slender form became more and more erect and defiant. What then did he desire but rest and peace? Here, he had hoped to be a partaker of them. Really, a pretty sort of rest and peace! In order to find them, however, one ought not to be obliged to withdraw into a desert, or bury himself in stupefying seclusion. "But if it is really true, if you are right, O Seneca; if to live is to wage a warfare, and if there must needs be fighting, then let it be on a worthy field, then let it be in the world where a man belongs, whom fate has blessed with unusual endurance and unusual gifts of mind, or- has punished." Louis went slowly down the steps, his cross, bristly dog following him, barking as he went. At the gate the baron stopped and looked around on the landscape. Did not the green hills, which enclosed in gentle undulating lines and rather limited horizon the lovely spot, admonish one, "Do not cherish too great ambitions; what we enclose is also a world, however quiet, but yours- Be content to remain in our keeping." On one of the spurs of the mountains lay the peaceful farm which nourished the fine breed of sheep, the pride of Wlastowitz. Like a miniature castle the little farmhouse stood out, artistic and bright in the midst of stately poplars. The gently sloping hillside near by, only thirty years ago desert land, was now transformed into an orchard, thanks to the faithful father who planted it truly not for himself, he was not to rest in its shade or rejoice in its fruits for the sons who, far away from him, pursued their ambitious projects, and how vainly sought lasting gain, enduring happiness, in their changeful lives. Now the pear trees stood in the fulness of their strength, the apple and plum trees stretched far and wide their heavily-laden branches, and the delicate, slender cherry trees what delicious fruit they had borne, large as nuts and juicy as grapes. Yes, it was not the children only who liked the cherries in Wlastowitz. And the fields all around, in spring a green, in summer a golden sea; but in autumn, more than ever a delight to the eye of the farmer. Yes, the soil of Wlastowitz, plowed, harrowed, and rolled as fine as that of the most carefully tended bed in a flowergarden, as aromatic as Spanish snuff — one could really snuff it—this earth. Louis's eyes took in with delight all these splendors, and the wrinkles on his forehead relaxed and his angry thoughts gradually became calmer. A short struggle, one more attempt to retain his anger and resentment, then all was over. "Where is my brother?" he asked the first one he met, and acted on the information received as quickly as possible. At two o'clock the barons came home from the field, quarreling, of course, but yet together, and seated themselves at table. Afternoons they devoted to the training of their dogs and horses, made an inspection of their estate, or a part of it, and talked over with their manager, Herr Kurzmichel, the work for the next day. The day was usually ended by a most violent dispute on religious, political, and social questions. Very much irritated and swearing eternal opposition to each other, the brothers went to bed. That, upon the whole, aside from the changes which the different seasons of the year, the hunting, the visits in the neighborhood brought with them, was the daily life of the barons of Gemperlein. It is generally acknowledged that the more regular one's life, the more quickly time flies. Before the brothers were aware, the day came, when Frederic was moved to say: "I should like to know whether there was ever a man who has not remarked that time passes very quickly.” "On the contrary," said Louis, "this truth has been asserted so often that it is quite useless even to mention it." "Could we believe it, did we not certainly know it," continued Frederic, "that it is now just ten years since we came to Wlastowitz?" man who dreams in broad daylight, and sees visions when he has no fever," cried Frederic. "To the devil with all your ifs and perhaps, your whims and fancies! You are riding a hobby; pray keep to the actual and real." Now Louis broke out into a shrill laugh. He raised his eyes and clasped hands appealingly to the heavens. "The real! The actual!" he cried. "He he speaks of those things, and three years long was in love with a typographical "Then I should already be the head of a error!" numerous family," Louis went on. Frederic did not reply, he only laughed quietly to himself. Louis gave him a sidelong look. "There is nothing," he said scornfully, "more stupid than a stupid laugh." 66 Frederic looked down, angry and ashamed, and gnawed his mustache. Suddenly he started up. And you - you do you then know?" A mysterious word was on his lips. He did not utter it, however, but muttered softly to himself: "The devil "There is nothing more laughable than a take you!" CHAPTER II. the Catholic faith. In the very first years of their settlement the eldest was thirteen, and she confessed at Wlastowitz the brothers had determined to marry and had even chosen their future wives. Frederic had decided upon a certain Countess Josephe, daughter of the Right Honorable Charles, Count of Einzelnau-Kwalnow, and Elizabeth, Countess of Einzelnau-Kwalnow, born Baroness of Ezernahlava, Lady of the Order of the Star and Cross. Louis, on the other hand, who had long since made up his mind that in spite of his dislike for celibacy, he would rather remain single all his days than marry an aristocratic lady, formed the resolution of making Lina Apelblüh, a merchant's daughter in the neighboring town, his wife and the mother of a large number of republican Gemperleins. It cannot be alleged that the acquaintance which the brothers had made with their future wives was of a very intimate nature. Frederic had met his intended in the genealogical almanac of noble families, and knew but little about her, but that little with certainty. She lived in Silesia, on her father's estate, comprising eleven thousand acres, was twentythree years old, had five brothers, of whom Frederic followed the history of the life of his chosen one with affectionate interest through three years' editions of the Almanac, and grew strong in his determination to journey, in due time, to Silesia and present himself to the Count of Einzelnau as a suitor animated with the sincerest intentions for the hand of his daughter, the Countess Josephe. Louis, however, not only knew Fräulein Lina by sight, but he had even spoken with her when she had come to visit the wife of the manager, Herr Kurzmichel. "How do you do?" he had asked the pretty girl, whom he had come upon in the garden as she sat there busied with her embroidery. Lina rose from the bench upon which she was sitting, made the short, quick courtesy of a genuine city girl, who with charming awkwardness showed most naïve self-consciousness, and answered, "Very well, I thank you." The bright glance of his blue eyes showed her how much pleased he was, and she lowered her brown eyes with a blush.- A pause. "What shall I say now? Donner und Blitz! |