V V
NO.
nEIIIND THE SCENES.
480
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Every day men arc heard abusing tit is
or that political party; not merely for the
Mike of strengthening their own party,
hut because they really believe that they
are attacking 11 great evil. Why do such
men not consider, that their own opinions
were formed by circumstances; and that
the opinions of members of the other
paity were formed by di lie rent circum
stances? In choosing his party, the son
follows the father, unless some extraordi
nary circumstance occurs, unless some
influence more powerful than a father's
example is brought to bear upon him.
Hence wc see the folly of the abuse or
ill feeling that originates in convictions
of right and wrong. Each party judges
the other from its own stand point, and
neglects the causes which led its oppo
nent to a different course. This want of
consideration, this failure to allow for in
direct influences is the source of much
bitterness among men, and the cause of
our lack of faitli in humauitv. K.
BEHIND THE SCENES.
We visited the theatre. We marvelled
at the shilling scenes. Now there is
presented to our gaze a view of a forest;
we see giant trees, centuries old, which
bid bold defiance to wind and weather.
Between their gnarled and knotted trunks,
pendant with shaggy bark, we catch the
gleam of distant water. We can almost
hear the hoot of the owl, the caw of the
crow, and inhale the perfume of the pun
nyroyal. But the scene changes, and grand old
Ocean is brought before us.
"The breaking aun clash high
On a stern and rock-bound coast."
And they lash into wild waste and
wreck the white-sailed ship with its
freight of human souls. And again the
scene changes, and in mind we mingle
with the crowd that throng the streets of
the city. Now it is a bar-room scene.
The drunken rioters and the leering
glances of the beastly sot suggest the
need of a Mr. Pinch and a red ribbon
movement.
Again, it is a picture of by-gone days.
In the backgiound is a sunny sky.
Against this is a grim turret of a still
grimmer catle, with its moat and draw
bridge. Before this, beneath the arches
of the ancient elms, are brave knights
and fair ladies. The former, elad in arms
and armor, arc seated upon fiery steeds.
The latter, clad in long, narrow dress
waists and immense rulls, look charming,
and arc giving tosebuds to their noble
lords.
So it continues. One scene after an
other, as the necessities of the actors re
quire, is placed before our wondering
and admiring vision. But what is be
hind the footlights and tinsel, the gilding
and glare? Wc step behind the scenes
and are confronted by cold, damp, bare,
walks ropes and pullies. Yet over all
this piesides a master mind. The stage
master understands it all. He pulls the
ropes, adjusts the pullies, manages the
machinery, and out of confusion brings
forth beautiful and harmonious action.
We step out into the starless night and
with music still ringing in our cars and
light still gleaming in oureyes,we can eas
ily imagine "All the world's a stage," and
how magnificently grand is the scenery.
How infinitely beautiful, and at times
how perfectly awful, are the pictures wc
behold. Nature is constantly presenting
scenes to us, and these are ever changing
and shifting. We have sunrise and sun
set, night and day. Now spring is before
us, only to be followed by summer, with
its harvests and brilliant Mowers. This
gives pi nee to autumn, who comes to us
trailing over idl the earth, a robe of many
colors. Perchance she is nature's best
beloved. But winter reigns, and the pic.
tine of the seasons is completed only to
be produced again. Sometimes the scene
is an awful earthquake, or hurricane.
Sometimes it is a calm, or a rain. In the
sky arc curious and beautiful pictures;
rainbows, northern lights, and eclipses.
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