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Adversity brings us nearer to God than prosperity. The little one learning to go alone feels no need of help until it meets with a sad tumble. Then it reaches out its little hands and pleads for mamma. So we, in prosperity, feel that our own strength is all-sufficient; until, surrounded by adversity, we, too, stretch forth our feeble hands and cry, "Father!"— Amanda Done, Salt Lake City.

To know that sometime in the eternities man will be able, through knowledge, to produce the real of what he can on earth at best but produce an imitation, should inspire him to labor patiently to obtain his soul's desire.-Lillie T. Freeze, Salt Lake City.

Let us serve God with all our might, not thinking thereby that we do him a favor, neither to be applauded by any man; but that we through the grace of God may gain eternal life.——— C. V. Hansen, Logan, Utah.

My best thought? I must confess a truth, my best thought has been my secret ambition. What is that? To be good for something, and in that goodness to be great. My ideal has been the manliness of Christ. If I could incorporate into my nature a part of his wonderful knowledge of human minds, that singularly heroic strength of character, that humility withal, it seems to me, now, that the aura of my soul would gladden with its touch all who might come within its radius. I believe it would bring me such supreme content that Faust-like, I would say, "Moment still delay, thou art so fair."-Mathonihah Thomas, Farmington, Utah.

A VOICE FROM ENGLAND.

I am pleased to learn that a revival is going on in M. I. A. matters at home, and that greater interest is being taken in this important branch of education than for some years past. I hope this will continue, for the more interest our young men manifest in mutual improvement, the better qualified they will be for missionaries and the less heart aches and humiliations they will have to contend with when they find themselves engaged in missionary work.-Joseph W. McMurrin, Liverpool, Eng. [From a letter to Elder Nephi L. Morris.]

ANCIENT TALES.

PETER KLAUS.

A GERMAN LEGEND.

[The following story will be of interest to our readers, not only on account of its own quaintness, but also because it was this legend which our own Washington Irving amplified into his charming story of Rip Van Winkle.-ED.]

Peter Klaus was a Goatherd of Sittendorf, and tended his flocks in the Kyffhausen mountains; he was accustomed to let them rest every evening in a mead surrounded by an old wall, while he made his muster of them; but for some days he had remarked that one of the finest goats always disappeared some time after coming to this spot, and did not join the flock till late: watching her more attentively, he observed that she slipped through an opening in the wall, upon which he crept after the animal, and found her in a sort of cave, busily employed in gleaning the oat-grains that dropped singly from the roof. He looked up, and shook his ears amidst the shower of corn that now fell down upon him, but with all his inquiry could discover nothing. At last he heard above the stamp and neighing of horses, from whose mangers it was probable the oats had fallen.

Peter was yet standing in astonishment at the sound of horses in so unusual a place, when a boy appeared, who by signs, without speaking a word, desired him to follow. Accordingly he ascended a few steps and passed over a walled court into a hollow, closed in on all sides by lofty rocks, where a partial twilight shot through the over-spreading foliage of the shrubs. Here, upon a smooth, fresh lawn, he

found twelve knights playing gravely at nine-pins, and not one spoke a syllable; with equal silence Peter was installed in the office of setting up the nine-pins.

At first he performed this duty with knees that knocked against each other, as he now and then stole a partial look at the long beards and slashed doublets of the noble knights. By degrees, however, custom gave him courage; he gazed on everything with firmer look, and at last even ventured to drink out of a bowl that stood near him, from which the wine exhaled a most delicious odor. The glowing juice made him feel as if re-animated, and whenever he found the least weariness, he again drew fresh vigor from the inexhaustible goblet. Sleep at last overcame him.

Upon waking, Peter found himself in the very same inclosed mead where he was wont to tell his herds. He rubbed his eyes, but could see no sign either of dog or goats, and was, besides, not a little astonished at the high grass, and shrubs, and trees which he had never before observed there. Not well knowing what to think, he continued his way over all the places that he had been accustomed to frequent with his goats, but nowhere could he find any traces of them; below him he saw Sittendorf, and, at length, with hasty steps he descended.

The people, whom he met before the village, were all strangers to him; they had not the dress of his acquaintance, nor yet did they exactly speak their language, and, when he asked after his goats, all stared and touched their chins. At last he did the same almost involuntarily, and found his beard lengthened by a foot at least, upon which he began to conclude that himself and those about him were equally under the influence of enchantment; still he recognized the mountain he had descended, for the Kyffhausen; the houses too, with their yards and gardens, were all familiar to him, and to the passing questions of a traveller, several boys replied by the name of Sittendorf.

With increasing doubt he now walked through the village to his house; it was much decayed, and before it lay a strange goatherd's boy in a ragged frock, by whose side was a dog worn lank by age, that growled and snarled when he

spoke to him. He then entered the cottage through an opening which had once been closed by a door; here too he found all so void and waste that he tottered out again at the back door as if intoxicated and called his wife and children by their names, but none heard, none answered.

In a short time, women and children thronged around the stranger with the long hoary beard, and all, as if for a wager, joined in inquiring what he wanted. Before his own house to ask others after his wife, or children, or even of himself, seemed so strange, that, to get rid of these querists, he mentioned the first name that occurred to him, 'Kurt Steffen?" The by-standers looked at each other in silence, till at last an old woman said: 'He has been in the churchyard these twelve years, and you'll not go there today.' 'Velten Meier?' 'Heaven rest his soul!' replied an ancient dame, leaning upon her crutch; 'Heaven rest his soul! He has lain these fifteen years in the house that he will never leave.'

The Goatherd shuddered, as in the last speaker he recognized his neighbor, who seemed to have suddenly grown old, but he had lost all desire for further question. At this moment, a brisk young woman pressed through the anxious gapers, carrying an infant in her arms, and leading by the hand a girl of about fourteen years old, all three the very image of his wife. With increasing surprise he asked her name: 'Maria!'-'And your father's?'-Peter Klaus, Heaven rest his soul! It is now twenty years since we sought him day and night on the Kyffhausen mountains, when his flock returned without him; I was then but seven years old."

The Goatherd could contain himself no longer; 'I am Peter Klaus,' he cried, 'I am Peter Klaus, and none else,' and he snatched the child from his daughter's arms. All for a moment stood as if petrified, till at length one voice, and another, and another, exclaimed, 'Yes, this is Peter Klaus! Welcome neighbor!-Welcome after twenty years!'

EDITOR'S TABLE.

ON THE ACCEPTANCE OR REJECTION OF

TESTIMONY.

Among a very great number of questions that are awaiting the attention of the editors of the ERA is the following: "How far can Latter-day Saints accept or reject the testimonies of those who belong to other religious denominations? Many of them seem to bear very strong testimonies to some things, and are earnest in their statements."

We take it that what is here meant is this: The Latterday Saints bear testimony that the Lord has revealed to them a knowledge of the truth of the gospel, as made known to mankind through the revelations of God to the Prophet Joseph Smith. Now comes the Catholic, the Baptist, the Methodist, the Presbyterian, or it may be a Mohametan, and he says he knows that his religion is true. The question is, how far can we accept or reject these testimonies. It looks like bigotry to sit in judgment upon them and say, we speak truly, but they falsely; we are surely right, but they are mistaken. The question reminds us of an incident that happened within our own experience, about a year ago. In company with a

number of friends we attended service in the Catholic cathedral in New York, and listened to a very impressive discourse by the bishop of that diocese. The speaker was so unusually earnest and sensible, that what he said made a very favorable impression upon our party, and as we were leaving the cathedral one of the sisters asked the question, "Who can say that this man is not right, that the testimony he bears to the truth of his religion is not true?" To which we answered, in substance, "No man can or ought to do it; no man is compe

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