Jacob Kentil: The Seeker after Babylon.

THE last sod was placed upon his father's grave, and still Jacob stood by its side, tearless, yet with a world of silent agony pictured in his pale face. The good clergyman laid his hand kindly on his shoulder, and said,

"You have met with a heavy and grievous loss, my young friend."

"He was always kind and good to me," answered Jacob. "I am alone -all alone now."

"But you will not be alone; you will have friends. I will be your friend," replied the clergyman, for he was moved by the young man's silent grief.

"I thank you for your kindly offer, but I shall not remain here. Tomorrow I start for Babylon."

"For Babylon!" exclaimed the clergyman, "There is no such city. Babylon is fallen-is fallen, saith the Scripture."

"It cannot be. Babylon must now exist. My father spoke to me of it before he died, and bade me go thither to seek my fortune. To-morrow I set out on that journey." So saying, Jacob turned away and walked slowly homeward.

"A little touched in his upper story, like his father before him," said the old sexton, who had been standing near by.

"It is a very strange idea," answered the clergyman, thoughtfully. "Did you ever hear his father speak of it. I was not very well acquainted with him. He was very distant and unsocial."

"O! yes," replied the sexton, "'twas the only subject on which old Jake Kentil was not like other men. Whenever he began to speak of Babylon, his eyes would look sort o' strange and wild, like a crazy man's, and he would tell about the bustling streets, and crowded harbors, the heaps of gold, and princely palaces, just as if they were right before his eyes; and would say, 'If I were not so old, I would start for Babylon this very day, for there's the place to make your fortune.""

"And I suppose he put these strange ideas into his son's head," said the clergyman.

"I've no doubt of it, for this morning as young Jake spoke about going to Babylon, his eyes looked wild, just like his father's. He'll go, you may depend upon it."

The old sexton was right. Bidding adieu to none of his friends, not even to her who was very dear to his youthful heart, he went on his

way seeking for Babylon. He knew it was by the river side, and on the borders of the sea. So he journeyed toward the sea. At first he inquired of people whether the road on which he traveled would lead him to Babylon. But he found that this inquiry subjected him to the questions of the curious, the laugh of the foolish, or, what was worse, the sympathy of the kind-hearted, who significantly tapped their foreheads with their wise forefingers. Therefore he ceased questioning concerning the route whither he was going, though he still sought the distant city of Babylon. He found several cities in his journeyings, but none of them answered to his idea of the one he was seeking, and so he journeyed on, still not finding it, until he was almost in despair, and a dim thought entered his mind, that, after all, the clergyman might have spoken the truth, and that the great city had fallen.

Thinking thus, he wandered through the streets of a large town, until he came to the river side. Crowds of people were rushing toward a boat which was moored at the wharf.

"Jump right aboard," said a man who was taking tickets for the passage, "start for the city in five minutes."

"What city? Bablyon?" asked Jacob.

"Certainly," answered the man, winking to another who stood by his side," for Babylon or any place under the sun."

So Jacob went on board, happy at last in being fairly on his way to Babylon. Toward night the spires of the city rose in the distance, and soon the whole expanse of buildings burst upon his view. The multitude of boats busily plying to and fro, the forest of masts, the distant hum of business growing louder as they neared their place of destination, all made Jacob's heart thrill with the hope that at last he had found the city of his search. And when he landed, and heard oaths and imprecations on every side, when he saw the eager earnestness of men who strove only for a paltry sum, when he walked the streets and beheld the glitter and glare of fashion, when he looked upon costly structures, filled with every luxury of every clime,

"Ah!" said Jacob to himself," this must be Babylon." " "Can you tell me, sir," said he to a man who was hastily brushing past him, "the name of this city?"

"Don't you know the name of this city? The Emporium of the New World? The glory of the Union ?" exclaimed the man.

"I thought it was Babylon," simply answered Jacob.

The man muttered to himself "Crazy," and hurried on.

"They may have changed the name since my father was here,"

thought Jacob. "He said it was the rule and practice to change continually. I think this must be the city he meant. At any rate I will stop here, and seek my fortune."

The next morning Jacob rose early, and went forth to seek his fortune. His first care was to transform himself in outward appearance to the Babylonian standard. He cast off his old and threadbare garments and clothed himself in the newest style. Then he made a careful study of the manners of those around him. The adaptability of Jacob was wonderful. Very soon you could not tell by his outward appearance but that he was a born Babylonian.

Now in the city there was a street wherein fortunes were made or lost in a day. Hither Jacob wandered, and seeing men hurrying to and fro, and hearing bargaining and traffic on every side, and, it being evident that all this talk was of money getting and losing, he was tempted to ask what was the name of this part of the city. An old man told him it was the 'Change.

66

"Ah!" thought Jacob, "then this must be the place for which I am seeking."

Jacob began to study the habits and manners of those who frequented the 'Change, and learn their profession. He saw that most of them were bankers and brokers, money changers and usurers. New and startling maxims of business were given to him. He learned that there is nothing dishonest in itself. It is only unsuccessful swindling that is decried. That what might be rascality in the individual was virtue in the corporation; that it was no robbery to pick a man's pocket by deceitful reports and skillful representations; that all modes of money-making were commendable so long as they are successful.

At first these principles of action were distasteful to the honest soul of Jacob. "But," he reasoned within himself, "my father bade me get money at whatever risk. He bade me adapt myself to any form of life whereby it was possible to make money-so I will become even as one of these money getters."

Therefore Jacob hired himself an office, and JACOB KENTIL, BANKER AND BROKER, gleamed in golden letters over his door.

He lent money at two per cent. a month, he shaved notes, speculated in stocks, he dealt in real estate, he bought and sold and got gain. Everything he touched seemed turned to goid. No sooner did he buy stock than up it went to an unprecedented figure; estates purchased by him doubled their value; money that he loaned was never lost. A year passed and Jacob was wealthy, but how changed. He would not have

been known for the same simple hearted youth, who, a year ago, clear browed and innocent, entered the city of Babylon. A forehead wrinkled with calculation, brows knit together with anxiety, eyes cold, hard, unsmilling, lips firmly compressed, an eager air of business, were the characteristics of Jacob Kentil, banker.

True, he was looked up to as a rising young man. Old Goold, the millionaire, was heard to remark, after Jacob had been in the city but a month or two, that Kentil's financiering ability surpassed that of any young man he ever knew.

"But he'll go to the devil in less than a year, mark my words, sir, in less than a year," and all of old Goold's followers echoed the sentiment. The year was, however, past, and Jacob had done very different from going to the In fact, it had begun to be whispered that he was

in league with the

"Such luck I never knew," said old Goold, as some one told him of a speculation by which Jacob had realized a vast amount. "I must patronize the young fellow," thought he. "I will ask him to dinner. this very day."

So Jacob went to dinner at the house of the millionaire.

Now, in the city, there prevailed a strange custom. So soon as a maiden arrived at womanhood, both herself and parents began to cast about for some one to whom she might be married; and, in the search, they looked not for those things which are fittest to make a marriage happy, such as love, suitability of age and tastes, goodness of heart, and soundness of head. True, these were taken as very desirable additions to the main requisite, which was-money. But one possessing all these, and being poor in purse, met with no encouragement from parents or prudent daughters; whereas, one, lacking all these, and possessed of riches, was smiled upon by both.

Rich as Jacob now was, it is no wonder that Mr. and Mrs. Goold quickly thought of him as the proper person for the husband of their Julia. And the young lady herself had no objection. What little heart she had ever owned, had long ago been flirted away and dissipated in the coquetings of several seasons. As for Jacob!

There came to him a memory of a pure love, which, in his boyish days, had sprung up in his heart, growing with his growth and strengthening with his strength, and the sweet remembrance of which alone made him wish to return to his native village. He thought of the

happy Future he had planned for himself and Mary Irvin, and, although he had never spoken to her of love, he doubted not but her heart was truly his. And he half determined to leave the Great City with all its heavy cares, and be happy with his Mary, in a life of quiet love and peace.

But the Babylonian influence drew him the other way. Was it not much wiser to marry one whose connections would lift him to the highest circles of the city? Whose wealth, added to his own, would make him richer than all others? Love was fleeting and unsubstantial. Wealth enduring and tangible. What greater pleasure could there be for him than to add gold to gold, lands and houses to lands and houses, ships to ships, till not only the city, but the whole round world was circled with the fame of his possessions?

He chose the latter portion, and old Goold gave him his daughter in marriage, and, as years passed on, there were born unto him sons and daughters. Yet he knew but little of the dear pleasures of home, or of wife or children, for his wealth had still increased, and all his time must be given to the care of that fortune, the obtaining of which had wrinkled his brow, hardened his heart, withered all his affections, narrowed his means of enjoyments until only one was left,—the pleasure of money-getting.

Jacob Kentil yet lives in the Great City. His house, splendid in all the adornings of art, situated in the most aristocratic quarter, is pointed out to the curious stranger, as that of a man who entered the city poor, but now is worth his millions. True, there are hints that his domestic relations are not very happy. His children, by thoughtless and spendthrift courses, bring to his heart somewhat of grief. And the greyheaded old man was once heard to say, with tears in his eyes, that he believed his children wished him dead.

He found not many

Not long ago he visited his native village. changes there. He visited the graveyard, and saw the handsome monument which, at his expense, had been erected over the grave of his father. And not far distant, was a simple slab, whose inscription brought a shock of pain to his heart. It bore only these words

"MARY IRVIN, AGED 23."

As he stood looking upon it, with memories, hopes, regrets, flooding over his heart, a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and, turning, he be