prophet was apprenticed to a boatbuilder, | the Feast of Ramadan, and some small but after receiving a beating from his parties of troops were sent against him, uncle one day, he fled to Khartoum, where but failed to catch him. It is more than he entered a free school kept by a dervish probable that their sympathies were with of great sanctity and an alleged descend him. Colonel Stewart certainly held ant of the founder of Islamism. "Here," doubts on the subject. The Mahdi soon says Colonel Stewart, "he remained for afterwards showed himself at the head of some time studying religion, the tenets of his followers near Sennaar, finally taking his sheikh, etc., but did not make much up a position at Jebel Gadir, about one progress in the more worldly accomplish- hundred and fifty miles north-west of Kaments of reading and writing." His reli- ka, on the White Nile. Here he was atgious education was completed at another tacked by a body of regulars under Resschool to which he afterwards went near chid Bey, who was defeated with heavy Berber. Thence he settled in a village loss. This success inspired the prophet south of Kana, and enrolled himself as a and his adherents with fresh courage and disciple of a fakir or holy man, delighting ambition. Their ranks rapidly increased, in the name of Nur-el-Daim. Having re- and early in the following spring the whole ceived from this worthy the distinction of province of Kordofan was threatened. sheikh, Mohammed Ahmed took up his Raouf Pasha having been recalled, Abdabode on the island of Abba, near Kana el-Kader was appointed to the command on the White Nile. 'Here," adds Colonel at Khartoum, and a more strenuous atStewart, "he began by making a subter- tempt was made to suppress the new faranean excavation (khaliva retreat) into natical rising, whose spread began seriwhich he made a practice of retiring to ously to alarm the Egyptians. In April repeat for hours one of the names of the about three thousand men were collected Deity, this being accompanied by fasting, in the neighborhood of Kaka at the cost incense-burning, and prayers. His fame of reducing the neighboring garrisons. and sanctity by degrees spread far and Taking advantage of this "the rebels," as wide, and Mohammed Ahmed became the Mahdi's followers began to be called, wealthy, collected disciples, and married attacked Sennaar, but after some minor several wives, all of whom he was careful successes they were dispersed by Giegler to select from among the daughters of the Pasha. They were not, however, dismost influential Baggara sheikhs (Bagga heartened, and at length, when they again ra tribes owning cattle and horses) and met the Egyptians face to face on June 7, other notables. To keep within the legal- 1882, they obtained a signal victory. The ized number (four) he was in the habit of Egyptians came upon the rebels in a divorcing the surplus and taking them on densely wooded country; a zereba or again according to his fancy." In these stockade was commenced, and the troops marital responsibilities he was only sur- were formed up in hollow square, but they passed by his secretary or factotum, who were unable to withstand the furious onespoused no fewer than twenty-four ladies slaught of the Arab host, inspired by reof the neighborhood. But the Mahdi's ligious zeal. Once the square was broken time was not wholly occupied with the all discipline was lost, and the whole force attractions of the harem. The increase was simply annihilated. Naturally an exof his influence only incited him to fresh traordinary impetus was thus given to the efforts. Gradually he acquired a great insurrection, and many minor engage. reputation for holiness, and by-and-by as- ments took place, resulting generally in sembled a number of other dervishes favor of the Mahdi. At Shakka, for inaround him, and by his powers and tact stance, on June 20, another Egyptian desucceeded in uniting the various tribes tachment of one thousand men was cut to under his banner. The principles of his pieces, only a few escaping with their teaching are described as "universal equal- lives. On August 23 Duaim was attacked, ity, universal law and religion, with a com- but here the rebels were defeated with munity of goods. All who refuse to credit the loss of forty-five hundred men. Shorthis mission are to be destroyed, whether ly afterwards the Mahdi took the field in Christian, Mohammedan, or Pagan." It person, and advanced on El Obeid. was not until the end of 1881 that Raouf three successive days," it is recorded, "he Pasha, the then governor of the Soudan, made desperate assaults on the garrison, had his attention directed to the Mahdi's but on each occasion he was repulsed with pretensions. The latter at this time was great slaughter. The rebels are said to living at Merabieh, near the island of have had ten thousand men killed, while Abba. In August, as already stated, he the Egyptian loss is put down at two hunpublicly proclaimed his "mission " during | dred and eighty-eight." These disasters "On caused a diminution in the Mahdi's pres- it did honestly value age, it would hardly From The Spectator. it has achieved serenity; chiefly for that triumph over egotism and vanity, and the profuse illusions of youth, which hardly anything else brings. Yet it is precisely this serenity, this freedom from illusion, which popular demonstrations of overexpressed delight endeavor, however fruitlessly, to dispel. If the senders of these messages really said to themselves, "No one will know better how little this is worth than the man to whom I send it," would they ever send it at all? We believe that they would not. It is because they expect to excite a little agitation, to create a faint illusion, that they pelt with congratulations the serenity and impar tiality of judgment in which, if they really understand the best qualities which age brings with it, they profess to rejoice. - AGE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. THE world is thoughtless even in its And yet is it not true that wise age is most amiable aspects. It congratulated admirable chiefly because it deprives us Sir Moses Montefiore on attaining the of so much which is not the strength but age of one hundred after a fashion that the weakness of youth? Wordsworth very nearly ensured his not living a week does not go far enough when he says, beyond the century; and it telegraphs So fares it still in our decay, congratulations to Mr. Gladstone on the And yet the wiser mind completion of his seventy-fifth year, as if Mourns less for what age takes away, it had not already given the prime minis Than what it leaves behind. ter enough to do without acknowledging Age does something, no doubt, in taking compliments sufficiently laborious and away energy, and energy, if rightly disufficiently effusive to make him long for rected, is enviable; it weakens the tenaca world where compliments are not. Per-ity of memory, and memory, if it can haps the reason of the fuss is that the only manage to drop what is not worth world rather plumes itself upon valuing keeping, is also enviable; and it diminage than values it as it ought to do; for ifishes the vivacity and spring of the imag. ination. But in a noble mind, age takes away much more that we ought to wish to lose, than it takes of what we want to keep. It takes away prejudice, and passion, and irritable self-consciousness. It takes away that which misleads and perverts the judment and the imagination, much more than it takes away of judging and imagining power, though it may sometimes "leave behind" enough of these disturbing elements to justify self-reproach and regret still. But long experience does undoubtedly, in a mind of high calibre, do an immense clarifying and purifying work, -a work which tends more to the true appreciation of the relative place of human beings in the universe, than any other agency in life. Milton truly says that it may even attain "to something of prophetic strain; " and if it does so, it does so by removing the refracting vapors of prejudice and passion. Moreover, age does not tend to weakness of will. Nothing is more remarkable in those who have made a good use of long experience than the growth of decision with the growth of clearness of vision. It is illusion, after all, which chiefly excuses the feebleness of our wills, and with the disappearance of the excuses, the educated will asserts itself more and more, and never seems to lose in force as other and less essential elements of the mind do lose in force. Young men do great things, quite beyond the power of the aged, by the force of passion, and by the rapidity and vivacity of their influence over others. But in nine cases out of ten, what these men do that is good in its results, they do rather as instruments of a higher power, than because they really discern the end for which they do it. Doubtless there was a great purpose in Alexander's conquest of the East; but it was not Alexander's purpose. Doubtless there was a great purpose in Napoleon's conquest of the West; but it was not Napoleon's purpose. Doubtless there was a great purpose in Clive's conquest of Bengal; but it was not Clive's purpose. As a rule, and excepting, of course, the case of direct inspiration, the great achievements of the young have been the achievements of instruments in the hands of a power which used them without betraying to them its real ends; while the old alone, those who have cleared their minds from illusion and passion, have had some conscious share in the great ends to the achievement of which they have been permitted to contribute. Glory does not dazzle the old as it dazzles the young. Ambition does not mislead the old as it misleads the young. Impatience does not hurry the old into blunders as it hurries the young. Hence, the greatest things which the old do, they often do in the spirit of conscious benefi cence; while the greatest things which even the best of the young do, — and they are often much greater in magnitude, they do in the spirit of illusion or passion, and without any real command of the greater ends to which their enterprises lead. Doubtless, the great blot on the respect for age is that age in itself not only does not bring with it these results, but may bring quite opposite results. Age always empties; but it may empty the mind of the wrong things. It may empty the mind of everything but selfish and egotistic passion, instead of emptying it of selfish and egotistic passion. It may make the medium through which every thing is seen, one of a more and more disturbing kind. It may drain away all the generous passions, and leave nothing but envy, vindictiveness, and wilfulness behind. It may discharge the memory of all that is elevating, and leave behind all that is degrading. It may take away the excuse of fiery impulses, and yet leave the ignobleness of malicious purpose. Age, doubtless, is a sieve which strains away either the dregs, and leaves behind all that is finest, or strains away the finer elements of experience, and leaves only the dregs; and you can never be sure which of the two processes will take place. Still, of course, the veneration for age is founded wholly on the assumption that the finer elements of experience are retained in the mind, and the grosser ones purged away; and this is the tendency in all cases in which the character is gov. erned by a pure and noble will. In such a character even the memory, which always lets so much drop, as time goes on, appears to drop chiefly what most deserves oblivion, and to hold fast to that which is best adapted to guide, to refine, and to chasten. But it is well to observe that it is not age which constitutes the blessing of experience, but the right kind of experience which constitutes the blessing of age. Sometimes one is tempted to think that before unvenerable age could be purified it would have to be regenerated with the high impulses and passions of youth; for really it is the precipitate of these impulses and passions, under the magnetism of a pure and disinterested will, which makes the experience in which the glory of age consists. For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co. Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents. AFTER THE WRECK. WHAT of the ocean's roar? To kiss the pebbled shore; Where are the waves that, mountains high, How soft the west wind blows! For all the wreck last night! Here, by the dawn tide tost, Give me thy little hand, Rise up, dear heart, and let us go Through some green lane where May flowers blow, And sweeten all the land; Come, let us wander out of sight It smiles beneath the sky, Ah, love! we suffered wreck; And swept us from her deck! No harbor from the storm, No friendly hands stretched out to lift Our drowning fortunes from the drift, To shelter safe and warm; The world forsook us, love; our cries Died on the wind of sordid strife, And we looked helpless, husband, wife, Into each other's eyes. Then from despair was born A fonder love, a deeper trust, A treasure safe from moth and rust, A scorn of the world's scorn; I lost my gold in port and mart, Lean closer, closer, dear, We bid a truce to fear; The night of wreck is overpast, We have no argosies, No stately ships to come and go, All The Year Round. ROMANCE. My love dwelt in a Northern land. The long wash of the waves was seen, And leagues on leagues of yellow sand, And woven forest boughs between. And through the silver Northern night They fled like ghosts before the day! Still girdles round that castle grey; I know not if the boughs between The white deer vanish ere the day; Above my love the grass is green, My heart is colder than the clay! ANDREW LANG. A SONG OF BATTLE. LOVE with its sorrows and love with its joys, There's a time to make love, there's a time to make war; When love is hopeless, 'tis better by far Temple Bar. |