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r Queen Victoria's Coronation. Grevillc writes in his memories of Queen Victoria's coronation: "The different actors in the ceremonial were very imperfect in their parts, and had neglected to rehearse them. Lord John Thynne, who officiated for the Dean of Westminster, told me that nobody knew what was to be done except the archbishop and himself (who had rehearsed), Lord Willoughby (who is experienced in these matters) and the Duke of Weilin gton, and consequently there was a I i\ifflr?n 1t-v and embarrassment. and the queen never knew what she was to do next. They made her leave her chair and enter into St. Edward's chapel before the prayers were concluded, much to the discomfiture of the archbishop. She said to John Thynne: Tray tell mc what I am to do, for they don't know;' and at the end, when the orb was put into her hand, she said to him: 'What am I to do with it?' 'Your majesty is to carry it,if you please,iu your hand.' 'Am I?' she said: 'it is very heavy.' Thr> rnhv- rinr was made for her ? -ST * little finger instead of the fourth, on which the rubric prescribes that it should be put. When the archbishop was to put it on, she extended the former, but be said it must be 011 the latter. She eaid it was too small, and she could not get it on. He said it was right to put it there, and, as he insisted, she yielded, but had first to take off her other rings, and then this was forced on, but it hurt ber very much, and as soon as the ccremonv was over she was obliged to bathe ber finger in iced water in order to get it off. The noi3e and confusion were very great when the medals were thrown about by Lord Surrey, everybody scrambling with all their might and main to get them, and none more vigorously than the Maids of Honor. There was a gre\t demonstration of applause when the Duke of Wellington did homage. Lord Rolle, who is between eight}- and ninety, fell down as he was getting up the steps of the throne. His first impulse was to rise, and when afterward he came again to do homage she said, "Alav I not get up and meet him?" and then rose from the throne aud advanced down one or two of the steps to prevent his coming up, an act of graciousness aud kindness which made a great sensation. Babies' Shoes. "Tell me something about babies' shoes. How are they numbered?" 1 A ifKn r\n rm t* nf KnVw. " i> U. *? 13 bug IJJ.OW ouvvy vuw hood. No 0 has a solt sole of white kid and pasteboard, and is the successor of the knit wool boots that are sold for babies in long dresses. Nos. 1, 2 and 3 bare what is culled the turned sole, sewed together on the wrong side and turned out. There are from four to live buttons on the side, and a b.'ack tassel is now fastened at the top in front. The latest is to have a vamp of French kid with culf uppers, or, what is still better, i */ i . j 8 Dau-UO.NL'U 1UUUU UUKj Uji|jtu patent leather." "Is there no change in the shape of child ren's shoes?" "None. There can't well be because the sole mu-st be sufficiently broad to stand the wear and tear. Square toes arc preferred to round, because they allow freer development to the toes. The spring heel, which was introduced nearly two years ago, is worn as early as two years of age, and has recently become fashionable for girls in their teen 3. It is nothing but a slip of leather inserted between the sole and that part of the shoe pressed by the wearer's heel. It is seldom that a smaller than a No. 8 is made with a regular heel, and that is on the rnminon sonse nlan. low and broad. These and the large sizes have a higher top than has been usual for several years. Children would have betterlooking feet if they had wiser mothers, and the fault lies in the first shoes worn. One pair too short will ruin the feet, no matter how loose subsequent ones may be."?New I rovk Mail and Express. Animal Courage. The sagacious horse soon learns to despise a timid rider. The confidence of a horse in a firm rider and his own courage is great, as was conspicuously evinced in the case of an Arab possessed by the late General Sir Kobert It. Gillespie, wlio, being present on the racecourse at Calcutta during one of the great Hindoo festivals, when several hundred thousand people assembled to witness all kinds of shows, was suddenly alarmed by the shrieks of the prowd, and informed that a tiger had escaped from his keeper. Sir Robert immediately called for his horse, and grasping a boar spear which was in the hands of one of the crowd, rode to attack his formidable enemy. The tiger was probably amazed at fiuding himself in the middle of such a number of shrieking beings flying from him in all directions; but the moment he perceived Sir Kobert he crouched with the attitude of preparing to spring, and that instant tliT? gallant soldier passed his horse in a leap over the tiger's back and stuck the spear through his spine. The horse was " a small gray, atterward sent home by him a present to the Prince Regent.? London Society. A Sheep Intoxicant. In reference to the statement published elsewhere in regard to '200 bucks being poisoned in Eastern Oregon, a gentleman who has extensive interests in that section and who has spent several years on the sheep ranges there, gives the following information: There is a low wccu growing on certain ranges, which, wheu eaten by the sheep in the fall, proves fatal. Tha sheep run on these ranges in the spring without damage. Then they are driven to the mountains for the summer, and when they come back on the range in the fall this poison weed is ripe and the .seeds have fallen on the ground. The Sheep feed ou the weed and probably the seeds. Presently their ears droop, they froth at the mouth, and their brain is affected. After standing for a while in a dazed condition they start off in j any direction they happen to be headed { and keep going till they walk over a i, cliff or into a gully or fall dead. They caunot be turned or stopped, but walk off a bluff as composedly as if it was level ground. So far as I know there is no cure for sheep which have eaten * ^~ ^ I Awf api n y*r\ r> /\f IXIIS "WCCU. V. illtit; uuu uui su3 me uul> poisoned by it.? Portland Oregonian. The Tale of a Fish. When a man doth wish to angle, A hook like this he loves to dangle: J He has a line so good and strong, And catches a fish about so long: h S Before he gets home the fish doth grow (?) &nd he tells his friends that it stretched out so: b k But his friends who have a-fishing been, Know that the man has lied like sin, And thav simply sit and smile and grin. 00 00 00 00 III! W r ?Middlebovo News. ??i*?L^afci i i irr TiTum h i nwra THE HOME DOCTOR. A Mmple Remedy. Lard as an application lor bruises is considered indispensable at our house. j if put on as soon as possible, it will! usually remove all soreness, and prevent ! the discoloration that follows such a hurt. If the bruise is severe it may not cure it entirely, but will help it in any case. A blow on the face followed by a black and blue spot is especially annoying, but unless so near the eyes as to Bettle blaclc under them, lard will prevent such discoloration. Try it when next you are so unfortunate as to get a bruise. I Burns. Advice on the best way to act when the clothing is on lire has so often been given iu print that it seems as if everyone must know how to act iu this terrible emergency; yet one can scarcely take up a newspaper without seeing that some ! unfortunate woman lias perished because ! she ran about screaming for help instead of rolling on the floor and trying to i smother the flames. It is of the greatest; importance ihul luu muutu ouvuiu w . kept shut, so that the flames may not bo j breathed in. If there is water at hand 1 to dash on the fire, it can be easily ex- J tinguished, but too often there is none;! then seize the first woolen article that! can be caught up?a shawl, overcoat, | heavy table cover, rug or piece of carpet j ?and wrap it tightly around the person, ! if possible, roll her over and over on the j floor, as this crushes out the flame. Firo j cannot burn without air; when the supply is cut off it must go out. If the suf- i fercr seems extremely weak aud exhausted by the shock, give a few spoonfuls of brandy and water. If the feet) arc cold, apply hot bricks or bottles of j lint t\.-nfor tn thorn. Cut the clothes off I the injured parts; do not attempt to re-1 move them in any other way. If the J skin is not much broken, mix in a bowl a thick paste of common baking soda, spread it thickly on linen and lay it on the burns. As it begins to dry, wet by squeezing water on it without removing it; if it is kept thoroughly damp, there is usually little pain. When there is a large raw surfacc, cover with ru thick layer of cosmohue, oiled rags, or simply wet cloths; if the air can be excluded the smarting will ccase. A burn is dangerous in proportion to its extent rather than its depth. In all severe cases, send for a doctor at once. Very nourisning food must be given to sustain the system while the tissue that was lost is being replaced. Cookery ffor Colds* A Pleasant Dk augiit for a Cold.? f>?:i ? nf niin^d nf cm la f in p in L>Ui I a ljUUl ICl \J l i.hn VUUWV V* ? a pint of new milk. Reduce it to half the quantity, add sugar to taste, and a drop of almond essence. This should be taken at bedtime, not too warm. Arri/e Water.?This is a refreshing beverage when a bad cold has the elTect of making one thirsty. It is especially appreciated by children. Cut four slowly* baked apples in quarters, put them in a jug with a couple of cloves. Pour a quart of boiling water on them. In three hours strain and sweeten to taste. Lemon "Whey.?This is often recommended to excite perspiration after a chill, and i3 less heating than the white wine wocy sometimes given for that purpose. Pour into boiling new milk as much lemon juice as will make a small quantity quite clear. Add enough hot water to make it a pleasant acid, and sweeten to taste. Strain and drink hot before going to bed. Rice Caudle.?This is an excellent remedy for any case where a sudden -U:n /-*,? H i-irrhfPJl Soak jinn uua uivu^ub W4-*. some rice for an hour in cold water, strain it, and put two tablespoonfuls of the rice into a pint or rather more of new milk. Simmer till it will pulp through a sieve. Put the pulp and milk into a saucepan, with a bruised clove, a bit of cinnamon, and loaf sugar to taste. Simmer ten minutes more. If too thick, add a little milk. Serve with exceedingly thin strips of dry toast. Oatmeal Gruel.?Mix two tablespoonfuls of fine fresh oatmeal with a pinch of salt and a little cold milk; ' when quite smooth, gradually pour into it half a pint more. Set it over a clear fire in a lined saucepan, and stir without intermission. Many cooks let the gruel stand to simmer at the side of the fire, only stirring occasionally, but this is a great mistake. To be good, gruel must be stirrred the whole time. After it comes to boiling point, pour in another quarter of a pint of cold milk, and boil for twenty minutes. If approved sweeten the gruel with loaf sugar, and flavor it with a pinch of nutmeg and a small shred of cinnamon. If it is not approved, serve it plain. mere 13 nothing more delicious than a basin of well made gruel, and nothing more unpleasant to take, or even to look at, than the badly made gruel so often sent up to an invalid by a lazy cook. Gruel is also a most soothing remedy for a bad cold. Sparrows as Food. The English sparrows are recommended by the New York Experiment station as an excellent food. The same recommendation has been previously and frequently given in these columns, and the suggestion has been made that farmer's boys should turn their ready shotguns upon the too abundant pests. Sparrows are a regular article of consumption in France, and travelers in that couutry and in Germany may recall ine small, clean, white cloth covered stands in the markets upon which [these birds, ready trussed for the cook, are exposed for sale in large numbers. In what shape they appear on the table, however, no traveler can probably tell, for French cookery is well known to be a scries of wonderful transformations. But the American housewife may serve them as quail on toast, roasted, fried, stewed, or in pies, and in short in any way in which a most excellent and well flavored bird can be cooked. They may be made a substitute for reed birds, for quail, and I for rail, but the country birds which feed upon 'wheat and other grains arc here refered to and not the city birds, I whose unclean food is rather an object against any other use for them than as food for cats.?New York Times. Twins Who Think Alike. Watkinsville boasts as many pretty girls as any town in Georgia to its popu JULIUI1, null I1UUK ill i; Ilium I.mm the twiu sisters, Misses Sallie and Mollie "VVoodis. These young ladies resembie each other so nearly that even their intimate friends arc often at a loss to tell "t'other from which," and they have a good deal of fun at the expense of young men who mistake which sister they are speaking to. They arc devotedly attached to each other and have never had a cross word. In fact not only their taste3 and wishes, but even thoughts flow in the same channel. It is a singular fact, but nevertheless true, that when one's mind dwells upon a subject the | other's thoughts are exactly the same. This has been tested time and again by friends calling one at a time aside and asking her thoughts, and they are found to be identical.?Savaiuiah JSTeios. 111 Tim irpi."--.? r*"TirBTMn FACTS FOK THE CURIOUS. A naturalist, who has just returned from Spain, says that the natives keep locusts in cages for the sake of their music. A great many coins, English shillings, six-penccs, coppers aud one Canadian piece, were found in Jumbo's stomach by the gentleman having charge of his remains. Easter of next year falls on St. Mark's Dav. April 23, its latest possible date. The last time this occurred was in 173G (old stylo), and it will not so fall again until 1043. It used to be said that the mandrake was watched over by Satan, and that if it were pulled at certain times with certain invocations the evil spirit would appear to do the bidding of the prac. In 1495 Maximilian put under the ban of his empire, and fined to th6 amount of 2,000 marks gold, every city or individual who accepted or gave a challenge to private war. This was the formal, though not the final, close of the right of "dillidation," as it was called. The word quoted implied a breaking of faith or peace, and thus war between individuals. It is said that Crcsar found 320,000 persons, or nearly three-quarters of the whole population of the city of Home, on the roil of public succor; five modii n..??, } r*nnn/Is'i wfirfl UI UlCau \\Ji auuuu ui vj -Ma.k distributed to each person per month. Under Augustus there were 200,000 persons in Koine receiving "out door" relief from the authorities. The diver of the Persian gulf or of Ceylon attaches a weight of some twenty pounds to his feet to aid in his descent, and carries seven or eight pounds more of ballast in his belt. He protects both eyes and ears with oiled cotton, bandages his mouth and goes down some forty feet with a rope. He remains down some fifty-three to eighty seconds, and helps himself up again by the rope. The inhabitants of Nova Scotia were more in favor of the struggling Americans in the days of the Revolution than were those of Uanaaa. a large portion of them seemed desirous of linking their fortunes with the cause of the "Bostonians," as the American patriots were called. They petitioned the continental congress on the subject of union, and opened communications with Washington; and Massachusetts was more than once asked to aid in revolutionizing the province. But its weakness and distance made such assistance impracticable. The buildings which surrounded the pub'.ic squares in ancient Iiome corresponded in lavish magnilicence to the altars, statues, dedicatory columns and triumphal arches. Broad colonnades with shops formed the enclosure, interrupted by temples and courts of justice, which can have differed but little in external appearance from the sacred edifices. Most important among their public buildings were the basilicas, which in name, purpose and form were derived from Greek prototypes. As halls of justice and places for commercial traffic they may be regarded as covered extensions of the open squares. Pflvin? a Weddinar Fee. The Rev. Mr. S., of Lowell, is as often called upon as any other pastor in the city to tie the conjugal knot. Several years ago he was waited upon one evening by a young man, a stranger, who requested his presence at No. 40 Blank street. He reached No. 40 Blank street in good time, made known the object of his visit and was introduced to a lodger who turned out to be the party in question. He invited the clergyman to walk up to his room, when the landlady, with that keen interest in things matri moniai,cnaraciensui; 01 lemaic imuu, tendered the use of her parlor for the occasion. The young man disappeared and shortly returned, supporting on his arm a comely young woman, whom he presented to the minister and the landlady as the bride-elect. The twain were soon made one, in the stately and impressive manner for which our clergyman is noted, and the usual awkward pause ensued. The silence was broken by the groom, who inquired of Mr. S. if he was fond of dogs, and on being assured that he was, the young man vanished to the upper regions and returned, followed by a small terrier. This animal was put through a variety of tricks, expert and amusing, and the reverend gentleman then arose to take his departure (and his fee). - u:.? ? ?,UV. 'i'iie bridegroom assisiou mm uu nnu his overcoatand remarked: "Well,now, Mr. S., you've married me; that's your trade. I showed my trick dog to you; that's my trade. You usually get five dollars for putting up your job, I get as much for an evening's entertainment with Nep, there; I guess -we are about square, ain't we?" Mr. S. assured the gentleman that the existing relations between them were of the squarest possible kind, and, expressing a polite hope that the groom would derive as much pleasure and profit by his part of the transaction as he had done from his, withdrew the gainer by a new experience.?Detroit Free Press. A Stable Tor 2,400 Horses. The Broadway and Seveuth Avenue Railway company, of New York, has a stable at Fiftieth street which will cover the largest number of horses under one rnnf in tVti'q rmintrv. or 2.400. The I feed of this regiment of horses consists of hay, oats and com. A supply of rock salt is also furnished. Each horse receives about eight pounds of hay a day, which with 2,400 horses meaus about 3,500 tons a yoar. This is choppcd up fine by cutters run by an eighty-horse power engine. The storeroom for feed contains 12,000 bushels of grain and is filled up every three months. In mix! ing, about 10,000 bushels of oats are put i with 12,000 bushels of corn. In a room where the nreparcd food is put a hori zontal section shows a mass of feed tea feet deep, consisting of layers of chopped hay, ground corn and oats, which are taken in the proportions desired and are placed upon the lloor, where a constant spray of water mingles with it to [ enable its ready mixture. About 12,000 i pounds of rock salt in the lump are purchased four times a year. Lumps are placed in the horses1 mangers, where they can lick it as they wish. Their own taste for salt is considered the best guide. The Officers Passed Them. A year or so ago a merchant vessel was sent to Havana to bring back to the Unite d States some shipwrecked sailors. While there they obtained a lot of cheap cigars, which they corded up in a great pile on the deck. Over this pile, which looked very much like a cord of wood, they threw a lot of old sail cloth, and when the customs officers asked them If they had any dutiable goods on board they pointed to this pile and said it contained cigars. The customs officers thought they were being guyed, and did not look at them. in. TiUim SERMONTHE BLOOD. Text: Hebrews ix., 23?"Without shedding of blood is no remission." John Gr. Whittier, the last of the greal school of American poets that made the last quarter of a century brilliant, asked me in the White mouutains one morning, after prayers in which I had given out Cowper'f famous hymn about "The Fountain Filled with Blood:" "Do you really believe that there is a literal application of the blood of Christ to the soul?" My negative reply then is my negative reply now. The Bible statement agrees with all physicians and all physiologists and all scientists in saying that the blood is tho life, and in the Christian religion it means simply that Christ's life was given for our life. Hence all this talk of men who t say the Bible story of blood is disgusting,awl | that they don't want what they call a \ 'slaughter-house religion' only shows their I incapacity or unwillingness to look through ' the figure of speech toward the thing signi- j fied. The blood that on the darkest Friday i the world ever saw oozed or trickled or j poured from the brow and the side and the j hands and the feet of the illustrious sufferer, j back of Jerusalem, in a few hours coagulated and driea up and forever disappeared, and if men had depended on the application of the literal blood of Christ there would not have been a soul saved for the last eighteen centuries. In order to understand this red word of my text we only have to exercisa as much common sense in religion as we do in everything else. Pang for pang, hunger for hunger, fatigue for fatigue, tear for tear, blood for blood, life for life wo see every day illustrated. The act of substitution is no novelty, although I hear men talk as though the idea of Christ's suffering substituted for our suiiering were something abnormal, something distressingly odd, something wildly eccentric, a solitary episode in the world's history when I could take you out into this city and before sundown point you to five hundred cases of subtitution and voluntary suffering one in behalf or another. At 2 o'clock to morrow afternoon go among the places of business or toil. It will be no difficult thing for you to find men who by their looks show you that they are overworked. They are prematurely old. They are hastening rapidly toward their deceasa. They have gone through crises in business that shattered their nervous system and pulled on the brain. They have a shortness of breath and a pain in the back of the head, and at nights an insomnia that alarms them. Why are tiny drudging at business early and late? For fun? No, it would be difficult to extract any amusement out of that exhaustion. Because they are avaricious? In many cases, no. Because their own personal expenses are lavish? No, a few hundred dollars would meet all their wants. The simpie fact is the man is enduring all that fatigue and exasperation and wear and tear to keep Lis home prosperous. There is an invisible line reaching from that store, from that bank, from that shop, from that scaffolding to a quiet scene a few blocks, a few miles away, and there is the secret of that business endurance. He is simply the champion of a homestead, for which he wins bread and wardrobe and education and prosperity, and in such battle ten thousand men fail. Of ton business men whom I bury nine die of overwork for others. Some sudden disease finds them with no power of resistance and they are gone. Life for life. Blood for blood. Substitution. At 1 o'clock to-morrow morning, the hour when slumber is most uninterrupted and most profound, walk amid the dwelling houses of the city. Here and there you will find a dim light, becausa it is the household custom to keep a subdued light burning, but most of the houses from base to top are as dark as though uninhabited. A merciful God has sent forth the archangel of sleep and he puts his wings over the city. But yonder is a clear light burning and outside on the window casern ?nt a glass or pitcher containing food for a sick child, tho food set in the fresh air. This is the sixth night that mother has sat up with that sufferer. Bhe has to the last point obeyed the physician's prescription, not giving a drop "too much or too little or a moment too soon or too late. She is very anxious, for she has buried three children with the same disease and she prays and weeps, each prayer and sob ending with a kiss of the pale cheek. By dint of Kinaness sne gets lae ntue one lurougn u:e ordeal. After it is all over the mother is taken down. Brain or nervous fever sets in and one day she leaves the convalescent child with a mother's blessing and gots up to join the three in the kingdom of heaven. Life for life. Substitution. The fact is that there are an uncounted number of mothers who after they have navigated a large family of children through all the diseases of infancy and got them fairly started up the flowering slope of boyhood and girlhood have only strength enough left to die. They fade away. Some call it consumption, some call it nervous prostration, some call it intermittent or malarial disposition, but I call it myrtyrdom of the domestic circle. Life for life. Blood for blood. Substitution. Or perhaps she lingers long enough to see a son got on tbe wrong road, and his former kindness becomes rough reply when she expresses anxiety about him. But she goes right on looking carefully after his apparel, remembering his every birthday with some memento, and when he is brought home worn out with dissipation, nurses him till he gets well and starts him again, and hopes, and expects, and prays, and counsels, and suffers until her strength gives out and she fails. She is going, and attendants bending ever her pillow ask her if she has any message to leave, and she makes great effort to say omething, but out of three or four minutes nf {nrlipfin/if nffrftmnpna t.Vimr PAn rfttch but thrqo words: "My poor boy I" The simple fact is, she died for him. Life for life. Substitution. About twjnty-four years ago there went lorth from our homes hundreds of thousands ?f men to do battle for their country. All the poetry of war soon vanished aud left them nothing but the terrible prose. They waded knee-deep in mud. They slept in snow-banks. They marched till their cut feet tracked the jarth. Thay were swindled out of their honsst rations and lived on meat not lit for a log. They had jaws fractured and eyes extinguished and limbs shot away. Thousands )f them cried for water as they lay dying on th? field the night after the battle, and got it lot. They were homesick, and received no message from their loved ones. They died in Darns, in bushes, in ditches, the buzzards of ! ;he summer heat the only attendants on their obsequies. No one but the infinite God who cnows everything knows tiM ten-thousandth part of the longth and breadth and depth ind height of anguish of Northern and South>rn battlefields. Why did these fathers loavo ;heir children and go to the front, and why lid these young men, postponing the.carriage lay, start out into the probabilities of never !f>ininer back? For the country they died. Life for life. Blood for blood. " Substitution. | But we need not go so far. What is that nonument in Greenwood? It is to the doctors who fell in the Southern epidemics. Why | jo? Were there not enough sick to be at- i ;endedin these Northern latitudes? Oh, yes;! mt the doctor puts a few medical books in his ?alis3 and some vials of medicine and leavei! lis patients here in the hands of other phyitcians and takes the rail train. Before he jets to the infected region he p ,sses crowded ail trains, regular and extra, taking the fly- ; ng and affrighted populations. He arrives in i city over which a great horror is brooding. He goes from couch to couch feeling of pulse and studying symptoms and prescribing day after day, night after night, until a fellow-physician says: "Doctor, you had I better go homo and rest; you look miserable." I But be cannot rest while so many are suffer- : iug. On and on until soma morning finds ; him in a delirium in which he talks of home j and then rises and says ho must go and lock , after those natieuts. Ho is told to lie down, but he fights his attendants until he falls I back, and is weaker and weakor, and dies for I people with whom ho had no kinship and far j away from his family, and is hastily put j away in a strancer's tomb: and only the fifth j nowf a nawcniinor lir?Q 11Q nf Sflrl'i" ' .... ? fice, his name just mentioned among five. I Yet he has toached the furthcrest height of I sublimity in that three weeks of humanitarian service. He goes straight as an arrow to the bosom of him who said, "I was sick and ye visited me." Life for life. Blood for blood. Substitution. In the legal profession I see the same principle of self-sacrifice. In 1S4G William Freeman, a pauperized and idiotic negro, was at Auburn, N Y., on trial for murder. He had slain tho entire Van Nost family. The foaming wrath of the community could ba kept oft of him only by armed constables. Who would volunteer to be his counsel? No attorney wanted to sacrifice his popularity by such an ungrateful task. All were silent save one, a lawyer with feeble voice that could hardly be heard outside the bar, pale and thin and , awkward. It wa? Will]am H. Seward who ? Mil MTTfT !!! II ? jaw that the prisoner was idiotk and irreiponsible and ought to be put in an asylum rather than put to death, the heroic counsel uttering these beautiful words: 'I speak now in the hearing of a people who have prejudged the prisoner and condemned me for pleading in his behalf. He is a cenvict, a I pauper, a negro, without intellect, sense or emotion. My child with an affectionate smile disarms my careworn face of its frown whenever I cross my threshold. The beggar in the street obliges me to give because he says "God bless you!" as I pass. My dog caresses me with fondness if I will but smile on him. My horse recognizes me when I fill his manger, but what reward, what gratitude, what sympathy and affection can I expect here? There the prisoner sits. Look at him. Look at the assemblage around you. Listen to their ill-suppressed censures and their excited fears, and tell mn where anionc ray neighbors or ray fellow men, where, even in his heart. 1 can expect to find the sentiment, the thought, not to say of reward or acknowledgement, but even of recognition ? * * Gentlemen, you may think of this evidence what you please, bring in what verdict you can, but I asseverate before heaven and you that to the best of my knowledge and belief the prisoner at the bar does not at this moment know why it is my shadow falls on you instead of his own.' He was sentenced to die, but the post-mortem examination of the poor creature showed to all the surgeons and to all the world that the putilic were wrong and William H. Seward was right, and that hard and stonj step of obloquy in the Auburn court-room was one step of the stairs of fame up which he went to the top or to within one stej of the top, that last denied him through the treachery of American politics. Nothins subllmer was ever seen in American courtroom than William EL Seward, without regard, standing between the fury of the populace and the loathsome imbecile. Substitution! In the realm of the fine arts there was as remarkable an instance. A brilliant but hypercriticised painter, Joseph William Turner ivas met by a volley of abuse from all the art galleries of Europe. His paintings which have since won tli9 applause of all civilized nations, "The Fifth Plague of J?gypc," "Fishermen on a Lee Shore in Squally Weather," "Calais Pier," "The Sun Rising Through Mist," and "Dido Building Carthage/' were then targets for critics to shoot at. In defense of this outrageously abused man a young author of twenty-lour years, just >ne year out of college, cam? forth with his pen, and wrote the ablest and most famous esiays on art that the world ever saw or will ieo?John Ruskin's "Modern Painters." For seventeen years this author fought the battles 5f the maltreated artist, and after in poverty ?nd broken-heartedness the painter bad died ind the public tried to undo their cruelties toward him by giving him a big funeral and aurial at St. Paul's cathedral, his old-time friend took out of a tin box l'J,000 pieces of paper containing drawings by the old painter, md through many weary and uncompensated months assorted and arranged them for public observation. PeoDle say John Ruskin in ais old days is cross, misanthropic and morbid. Whatever he may do that he ought not to io and whatever he may say that he ought aot to say betwean now and his death he will save this world insolvent as far as it has any capacity to pay this author's pen for its jhivalric and Christian defenso of a poor painter's pencil. John Ruskin for William Turner. Blood for blood. Substitution. What an exalting principle this wnich eads one to sufl'er for another! Nothing so kindles enthusiasm or awakens eloquence or :hiines poetic canto or moves nations. That principle is the dominant one in our religion ?Christ the martyr, Christ the celestial hero, Dhrist the defender, Christ the substitute. No new principle, for it was as old as human nature, but now on a grander, wider, higher, leeper and more world-resounding scale. The shepherd-boy as champion for Israel, with a sling toppled the giant of Philistine braggadocio in the dust; but here is another David who for all the armies of churches nilitant and triumphant nuris tne i*oiiaoa ui perdition into defeat, the crash or his brazed irmor like an explosion at Hell Gate. Abraham had at God's command agreed to sacrifice his son Isaac, and the same God just in time had provided a ram of the thicket as a substitute. But here is another Isaac bound to the alter and no hand arrests the sharp edges of laceration and death, and the universe shivers and quakes and recoils ind groans at the horror. All good men have for centuries been trying to tell who this mbstitute was like, and every comparison, Inspired and uninspired, evangelistic, pro* phetic, apostolic and human, falls short, for Christ was the Great unlike. Adam, a type )f Christ because he came directly from God; Noah, a type of Christ because he delivered ins own family from a deluge; Melohisedec, i type of Christ because he had no predecessor >r successor; Joseph, a type of Christ bejause he was cast out by his brethren; Moses, i type of Christ because ho was a deliverer from bondage; Joshua, a type of Christ bemuse he was a conqueror; Samson a typo of Christ because of his strength to slay the ions and carry of the iron gates of im- J possibility; Solomon, a type of Christ in the iffluence of his dominion; Jonah, a type of Christ because of the stormy sea in which he threw himself for the rescue of others. But put together Adam and Noah, and Melchiseiec and Joseph, and Moses and Joshua, and Samson and Solomon and Jonah, and they would not make a fragment of a Christ, a quarter of a Christ, or the millionth part of a Christ. He forsook a throne and sat down >n his own footstool. He came from tha top 3f glory to the bottom of humiliation and :hanged a circumference seraphic for a cirmmfereuce diabolic. Once waited 0:1 by ingels, now hissed at by .brigands. Prom afar and high up he camo lown; apast meteors, swifter than tiny; by itarrv thrones, .himself more lustrous; past arger worlds to smaller worlds; down stairs or armaments, and from cloud to cloud, and ihrough tho tree-tops, and into tne cam-jl s jtall, to thrust liia shoulder under our burdens and take the lances of pain through his vitals and wrapped himself in all theagonie3 which we deserve for our misdoings and stood on the splitting decks of a foundering ship amid tho drenching surf of the sea, and Eassed midnights on the mountains amid wild oasts of prey, and stood at the point where all earthly and infernal hostilities charged on him at once with their keen sabers?our substitute! "When did attorney ever endure so much for a pauper client, or physician for the patient in the lazaretto, or mother for tho child in membranous croup as Christ for us and Chrisl for you and Christ for me? Shall any man or woman or child in this audience who ha< ever suffered for another find it hard to understand this Christly suffering for us? Shal those whose sympathies have been wrung ir behalf of the unfortuuate have no apprecia tion of that one moment which was lifted oui of all tho ages of eternity as most conscpicu ous when Christ gathere 1 up all the sins oi those to be redeamed under his one arm and I all their sorrows under his other arm anc said: "I will atone for these under my r>ghj arm and I will heal oil those under my lefi arm. Strike me witb'all thy glittering shafts oh, eternal justice. Roll over me with all thj surges, ye oceans of sorrow!" And the thun * n ? */! fV?a cani derbolts struck mm irom UUUVO anu uuv of trouble rolled up from beneath, hurricam after hurricane and cyclone after cyclone and then and there, in presence of heavei and earth und hell, yea, all worlds witnesa ing, the price, the bitter price, the transcend ent price, the awful price, the glorious price the inhnite price, the eternal price was paid that sets us free. That ii what Paul means, that is what I mean, thai is what all those who have ever had theii heart changed mean by "blood." I glory i this religion of blood. I am thrilled as I s tho suggestive color in sacramental cup whether it be of burnished silver, set on cloth immaculately white, or rough-hewn from wood, set on table in log hut meetinghouse of tho wilderness. Now I am thrilled as [ see the altars of an ancient sacriflc? Cfimsom with the blood of the slain lamb, " T-nwituMia i<? to me aot so much the UUU l^JTivtvuv -Old Testament as the New. Now I see why the destroying angel passing over Egypt in the night spared all those houses that had blood sprinkled on their door post3. Now ] know what Isaiah means when he speaks ol "One in red apparel coming with dyed garm3nts from Bozrah," and whom the Apocalypse means when he describes a heavenly chieftain whoso "vesture was dipped in blood," and what Peter, the Apostle, means ; when he speaks of the "precious blood" and j what John means when ho refers to the blood ! that cleanseth from all sin, and what the old i worn out, decrepit missionary Paul means j when in my text he cries "without shedding of blood is no remission." By that blood you and I will be saved or never saved at all. In ; all the agesjofjtho world God has not once par! donod a single sin except through the ; Savior's expiation, and he never will. Glory I be to God that the hill back of Jerusalem i was the battlefield on which Christ achieved j our liberty. The most exciting and overpowering day of last summer was the day I spent on the | battlefield of Waterloo. Starting out with : the morning train from Brussels, Belgium, | w? arrived in about an hour at that ? ? ?iniwim i i J famous spot. A son of one who was In | the battle and who bad heard from his father a tboosand time3 the whole scene recited, accompanied us over tha field. There stood the old Hugomont Chateau, the walls dented and scratched and broken and shattered of grape shot and cannon ball. Thare is the well in which three hundred dying and dead were pitched There is the chapel with the head of the infant Christ shot on. Thero are the gates at which for many hours English and French armies wrestled. Yonder wero the 1G0 guns of the English and the 250 guns of the trench. Yonderth9 Hanoverian hussars ! fled for the woods. Yonder was the ravine , of Ohaine where the French cavalry, not knowing thero was a hollow in the ground, < rolled over and down, troop after troop, 2,000 horses and 1,500 men tumbling into one 3 awful mass of suffering, hoof of kicking ] horses against brow and breast of captains , 1,,J 1 ana coionois unu pnvuto duiuicid, iuu umuau and tho beastly groan kept up until, the day ( after, all was shoveled under because of the malodor arising in that hot month of Jane, j "There," said our guide, "the Highland regiments lay down on their faces waiting for the 1 moment to spring upon the foe. In that or- | chard 2,500 men were cut to pieces. Here stood Wellington with white lips,and up that knoll rode Marshal Ney on his sixth horse, five having been shot under him. Here the ranks of the French broke and Marshal Nev , with his boot slashed with a sword and hia hat off and his face covered with powder and I blood, tried to rally his troops as ho cried: , "Come and see how a marshal of France dies ' on the battlefield!" From yonder direction | Grouchy was expected for the French reinforcement, but he came not. Around < those woods Blucher was looked for i to reinforce the English, and just "in lime he come up. Yonder is the field where ? Napoleon stood, his arm through the reins of | the horse's bridle, dazed and insane, trying to go back." Scene of a battle that went on I from 11:35 o'clock on the 18th of June until i 4 o'clock, when the English seemed defeated and their commander cried out: "Boys, can ! " * ? * n you trnnK 01 Riving way; nuniHuiuci vuu England!" and the tides turned, and at S ' o'clock in the evening the man of destiny who | was called by his troops "Old Two Hundred Thousond" turned away with a broken heart, 1 and the fate of centuries was decided. No ( wonder a great mound has been reared there, hundreds of feet high?a mound at the ex- I pense of millions of dollars and many yean . in rising. On the top is the great Belgian lion of bronze, aud a grand old lion it is. ! But our greater \Vatorloo was in Palestine. . There came a day when all hell rode up, led ' on by Apollyon, and the captain of our salva- j tion confronted them alone. The Rider on the white horse of the Apocalypse going out | against the black horse cavalry of death, and i the batallions of the demoniac and the myrmidons of darkness. From 12 o'clock at ! noon to 3 o'clock in the afternoon the great- , est hattla of the universe went on. Eternal destinies were being decided. All the arrowi of hell pierced our chieftain and the battle axes struck him until brow and cheek anc 1 shoulder and hand and foot were incarna dined with oozing life. But he fought or until he gave a final stroke with sword front Jehovah's buckler aud the commander-in chief of bell and all his forces fell back ii everlasting ruin, and the victory was ours And on the mound that celebrates the triumpl we plant this day two figures, not in bronzi or iron, or sculpture,1 marble, but two figurei of living light, the Lion of Judah's tribe aw the Lamb that was slain. TEMPERANCE TOPIOS, * Opening: Holl Gate, The bars are down, Hell Gate is opened wide, There's room for victims of the licensed sin; Broud is the way, and many go therein And float serenely on the dangerous tide, Where whirlpools coil and hidden rocks abide, rlfnomifa trifhin TT ltu UligApiUUUU. ujnuimw Ground and prepared in Satan's mills of giQ> Where all that's just is hated and denied. One Hell Gate opens only to the sea, Inviting commerco and prosperity; The olher Ls the inhospitable door, Whore bacchanalian victims shout and roar, Unconscious of the covered dynamite, Tiie electric spark a touch may soon ignite; On every corner unseen wires diffuse The lire, and death is there to touch the fuse. ?Geo. W. Bungay,in Temperance Adcocate. Tf Iny the Wrong Man. Some years ago I was living in a village in Solano county. Upon one-occasion a young man drove a wagon into town loaded with fruit. After he had placed his fruit on the train he went into a saloon to take a few drinks and have "h good time" with the boys; very soon he became wild with liquor and was so unmanageable that the constable of the township had to arrest him. Aa there was no orison in the town he resorted to X" tying the fellow with his back to tho tree richt in the main street. For a time he surged and tagged at the ropes, but finding his efforts useless, he cried out; "My God? has it come to this? Tied lo a tree like a horse?" Then gathering his scattered wits he said to the constable: "I ain't the fellow to tie. Tie the man that sold the whisky!" Here was true philosophy for you; why arrest and tie the corrupted and let the corrupter goon with his work? We have temporized long enough with this giant evil. The time has come when wo nno-Vif in nnr aa SOV_ "v O ~ " *" ?.-J? ? ereigns and crush it out. "Nre have been I tying ihc wrong man long enough. Let U9 seize the right man now and rivet fetters so securely upon him that no strength or skill will ever avail to break j them.?Rescue. TVhBkjr Violence. The lawless violence of the whisky men lias lately shown itself with increasing frequency and bitteraess. In Franki lin county, Ga., the illicit distillers have inaugurated a literal "reign of terror." In consequence of information given to the revenue officer* their operations have been interfered with. Oae young man named Dyar, who had testified against the whisky men, was shot dead while riding home in his wagon. Another, a farmer, suspected of having information against them, was fired at wkile sitting before the fireplace in his own house, and narrowly escaped with lxia life. In a neighboring county in Tennessee a deputy-marshal, with an illicit whisky distiller in charge as a prisoner, was shot and killed on a rccent Sunday morning. The Rev. Sam Jomes, the groat Southern evangelist, who is unsparing in his denunciation of whisky, has lately had his barn blown up with dynamite. Violence is whisky's only defence.?National Temperance Advocate. Temperance Notes* John B. Talman, of Lynn, Mass., has lately given $30,000 for the enforcement of the liquor laws, and trustees of the fund arc now pushing liquor prosecutions. The Quarterly Journal of Inebriety says: "The liberty of an inebriate ends when that liberty becomes a curse to others and interferes with the good order of society." Mrs. J. Ellen Foster, in the recent annual session of the "Woman's Congress, held at Des Moines. Iowa, made an eloquent plea for the abolition of the universal enemy?the liquor saloon. RELIGIOUS READING. 9 Healthy PIetjr. The stoutest timber stands on Nor- IB wegian rocks, where tempests rage, tj and long, hard winters reign. The -HBI muscles are seen most fully developed 1 in the brawny arm that plies the % blacksmith's hammer. Even so, the ] most vigorous and healthy piety is ^ that which is the busiest, which has difficulties to battle wi;b, which has j its bands full of good works, which bas neither time nor room for evil, but, aiming at great things both for Sod and man, promptly and summarily dismisses temptations with Neheniah'8 Answer, "I have a great work io do, therefore I cannot come flown." Visiting The Poor. ^ Miss Octavia Hills says, * I am con- ^3jj finced that one of the evils of much J thnt. ia rtnna for the Door SDrinars from j ;he want of delicacy felt, and ct ?r- '-JS cesy shown towards them, and that wo cannot beneficially help them in any ipirit different to that in which we lelp those who are better off. The lelp may differ in amount, it should lot differ in kind." Apply these worda # ;o visiting as well as to giving. Do j lot try to visit many families, but only --jl >nough to be able to go often, so that i true friendship may spring up. Oace . ^ ffin the friendship of the various 3iembers of the home, aud they can . :*M 3e influenced for good. In visiting do lot give money. Let Mis3 Hills again : j|| jpeak, "I hope you will notice that I * M iave dwelt on the need of restrain- jw ng yourselves from almsgiving, on. v he sole ground that such restraint is the only true mercy to the poor them- ^ jelvcs. I have no desire to protect ? the purses of the rich, no hard feeling ; to the poor. I am thinking continual- , ly and only of what is really kindest - f to tbem, kindest in the long run cer- I Lainly, but still kindest. I think small \ floles unkind to them, though they bring a momentary smile to their faces. First of all, I think they make them really poorer. Then I think they de?rade them and make them less inde pendent. Thirdly, I think they destroy the possibility of really good relations between you and them. Surely, when pou go among them you have better things to do for them than to give them half-crowns. You want to know them , 2^ to enter into their lives, their thoughts; to let them enter into some of your _ brightness; to make their lives a little fuller, a little gladder. You who know so much more than they,. might help them so much in the arises of their lives. . . . xne gin, pou have to make the poor, depend ' '% upon it, is the greatest of all gifts you :an make?that of yourselves, following in your great Master's steps, whose life is the foundation of all charity. The form of it may change with the ages; the great law remains, 'Give to him that a3keth of thee, and from him that would borrow oC thee, turn not thou away.' But see that thou give . him bread, not a stone?bread, the nourishing thing, that which wise -U thought teaches you will be to him --&M helpful, not what will ruin him body and soul; else, while obeying fthe letter of the command; you will be false to its deep, everlasting meaning. My friends, I have lived face to face with the poor now for some years, and I have not learned to, think gifts of necessaries, such as a man usually provides for his own family,helpful to them I have abstained from such, and expect those who love the poor, and know them individually, will do so more and more in the time to come. I have sometimes been asked by rich acquaintances, when I have said this, whether I do not remember the words, 'Never turn your face from any poor man.' ; Oh, my friends, what strange perversion of words this seems to me. I may deserve reproach; I may have forgotten many a poor man, and done as careless a thing as anyone; but I cannot help thinking that to give one's self, rather than one's money, to the poor is not exactly turning one's face from him. If I, caring for him and striving for him, do in my inmost heart believe that my money, spent in providing what he might by effort provide for himself, is harmful to him, surely he and I may be friends all the same. Surely, I am bound to give him only what I believe to be best. He oiivava limlflrstiind it at the HMkJ LIKJU U1 ?? \mj w moment, but he will feel it in God's own good time." The following suggestions, taken from the New York Charity Organization Society Manual, should be well noticed: "Avoid the appearance of dictation, also of inquisitiveness. Never repeat to others what you may learn in the families you visit. Give sympathy, but do not lead them to be discontented ; their lot is hard enough, do not make it harder ; give courage, energy and hope. Do not be discouraged or disappointed?the habits of a lifetime are not to be corrected in a day. Be patient as you would be with wn"' rhildrpn : armeal to their JVUl V ~ , JT i better selves from your own better self." _______ The Woman's Christian Temperance Union, of Boston, has been instrumental in procuring laws in fourteen States for compulsory education in the effects of liquor on drinkers. The society now scem3 -?^ to feel the responsibility of indicating what the lessons ought to be. It has be.cn decided that, in Massachusetts at least, children shall be instructed that alcohol is never desirable as an article of food, that any considerable indulgence in it is sure to be correspondingly injurious to the body, and that mental and moral ruin is bound to result from excess.