The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, November 25, 1885, Image 3
'' " ^ r
THE HOME DOCTOR.
Drinking1 at .tIea!N.
By way of explaining ever-increasing
frequency of ctyspepsia our tea party philosophers
have had recourse to the
strangest theories. The danger of water i
drinking at meals, for instance, has been
Absurdly exaggerated. Sipping hot and
cold drinks by turns has certainly a ru
inous effect on the enamel of our teetli;
but if we would refrain from bolting
our food smoking hot, a glass of fresh
water between the first and second
courses would promote instead of impeding
digestion. The stomach very
soon assimilates the temperature of the
various ingesta, and is far less troubled
by cold spring water, or cold milk, than
by pepper sauces, or soups hot enough to
appal a famished wolf. Instinct is a
pretty safe guide in.such matters. It
protests distinctly against the deglutition
of scalding hot viands, and as distinctly
recommends a draught of water during
meals, especially of sweet oil or salted
ftnfsj7 HAm*
rn GroniitX Toe Nails.
The most painful of the diseases of
the nails, is caused by the improper
manner of cutting the nail (generally
of the great toe,) and then wearing a
narrow, badly made shoe. The nail begining
to grow too long, and rather
wide at the corners, is trimmed around
the corner, which gives temporary relief.
But it then besrins to grow wider in the
side where it was cut off; and a9 the
shoe presses the fle3h against the corner,
the nail cuts more and more into the
raw flesh, which besomes excessively
tender and irritable. If this state con
tinues Ion? the toe becomes more ana
more painful aDd ulcerated, the fungus
{proud flesh) sprouts up from the sorest
points. Walking greatly increases the
suffering, till positive rest becomes indispensable.
Treatment: We omit all modes
of cutting out the nail by the root, and all
other cutting or torturing operations,
?egin the effort at cure by simple application
to the tender part of a small quantity
of perchloride of iron. It is found
in drug stores in a fluid form, though
sometimes in powder. There is immediately
a moderate sensation of pain,
Constriction or burning. In a few minutes
the tender surface is felt to be dried
tip, tanned or mummified, and it ceases
to be painful. By permitting the hardened,
wood-like flesh to remain for two
or three weeks, it can De easuy removed i
by soaking the foot in hot water. A j
new and healthy stricture is found firm
and solid below. If thereafterjthe nails be
no more cut around the comers or sides,
but always curve in across the front end,
they will in future grow only forwards;
and by wearing a shoe of reasonable
good size and shape, all further trouble
will be avoided. ? Boshoick's Journah
rnvallds' Food.
As to cooking for invalids the great
desideratum is to give nutriment in such
form as the Invalid can most readily assimilate
it. We have to consult the sick
person's tastes largely in this, though
the taste alone is not a safe guide. A
dyspeptic, for example, is constantly
craving things that cannot be taken with
Impunity. A good many physicians and
laymen declare that there is no nutriment
in beef tea, but I have kept patients
: alive for weeks on it. I prefer a broth
or a soup to the extract of beef generally,
for, as a rule, it appeals to the
taste better. A bouilion, or a cup of
' *---< a-- ?i. t i.T a: i. 1... i
L>eui tea. ib upt LU repei LUU putiuut uj
its appearance, while a good consomme
ioup attracts the eye. You want plenty
of meat and bone, well boiled down, to
make your soup; but in case you have
- to use beef tea. it is best to make it your
self. Take plenty of lean meet, cut into
email pieces, and put it into a jar, or a
jchampaign bottle with a little water. A
jarisbestif you have one. Cover it,
' but don't seai it. If you seal it yon
won't have anything left, for it will
blow up. Make a slit in the cork to let
ftie steam out. Place it in a kettle, or
pot of water, and boil it five or six
" bours. When you take it out your beef
tea is in the bottle with the stringy remains
of the meat. These fragments are
tasteless and useless.
Milk is another valuable food,
- though it is sometimes necessary to
. dUlnfo if of firof wifh wnfor in nrrlpr fn
get the patient to take it. The only objection
I know to pure milk is that it is
constipating to some people, but by
proper care there ought to be no trouble in
giving milk to almost anyone. The
great thing about feeding is to take such
food as is suitable to a person's habits.
The housekeeper should know the
habits, especially of the invalids under
" her care, and adapt their food to circumstances.
Certain foods are commonly
BUppo?ed to be laxative, which are not
jproperly so. Oatmeal, for example, is
thought to be so, whereas it is chiefly
irritating, and while it is very rich in
nutriment is not always a good food, because
it is irritating. Figs are also
called laxative, but it is only becausc of
the seeds that irritate the intestines. Arrow
root, on the other hand, is a true
laxative.
The true rule for the housekeeper to
follow is to learn the true properties of
the different kinds of food that she use3
and then adapt the supplies to the nece3 ?
8itie3 of the individual.?Dr. A. B.
Mott. in New York Cook.
A lawyer's Queer "Effects."
A celebrated lawyer had different "effects"
for every kind of case he was engaged
in. Thus in a trial for breach of
promise, where he was counsel for the
plaintiff, he used to wear a very elegant
pair of lavender kid gloves, sewed with
black, typifying, I used to think, that
although the deceived one's sorrow was
undoubted, still it was subdued and
ready to be consoled or comforted, either
by damages or by substitution of another
and more faithful swain for the miscreant
who had blighted her youthful af:
fections.
I When proposing damages, he had a
y habit of taking off his right hand glove
and displaying a handsome diamond
ring he wore and twirling it aTound his
Artr?ni? oUnmofolu r\lo#^?i?rr tliA nloin oi/1 a
UU^l, ftUVlUUl-V/lJ I'lUVi *-* Q I OIVAVJ I
in front to look like a wedding ring, or I
flashing the diamond into the eyes of the
foreman of the jury until it made them
blink again. In divorce cases or murders
> black gloves were adopted, and iD mercantile
cases blue spectacles. Envy
whispered that he was not good at figures,
and hated investigating them; so a
limely attack of ophthalmia made it necessary
for his junior to propound them
tp the jury. He was certainly very great
#ith the gentlemen of the jury.?Brooklyn
Eagle.
Hot Milk as a ReYivifier.
The Medi'-al Record says: No one who,
L fatigued with over-exertion of the body ,
or mind, has ever experienced the reviving
influence of a tumblerful of milk
heated as hot as it cnn be sioped, will
willingly forego to resort to it because of
its being rendered somewhat less acCeptablc
to the palate. The promptness
With which its influence is felt is indeed
surprising.
i
VERY FAT PEOPLE.
.Noma Persons Who Have Attained a
Wonderful Avoirdupois.
We have the evidence of Dr. Ashton
concerning the late Mme. Victoria, the
fat woman, who "was thin and delicate
throughout her girlhood," that "many |
persons of small bones attain an enor- [
mous size." The weight of Mme. Vic- j
toria was prodigious?between 500 and
rimin^a? hut t.hflrp exists the record
V,VV
of much larger persons, notably in the
mother couutry, in two instances, a t
least. The first of these was a Mr.
Bright, the grocer, of Maldeu, in the
county of Essex, who died in lToO, in
his thirtieth year, at the net weight of
610 pounds, and whose death was considered
by his neighbors as a happy release
to him, and so much the more as he
thought so himself. He came of a
family which was noted for its great size
and its correspondingly great appetite.
The Mr. Bright in question enjoyed exceptionally
good health, and at the age
of twenty-two he took unto himself a
wife, by whom he had five children. A
most amiable mind was an inhabitant of
his overgrown body. Indeed, amiability
and good nature seem to go hand in hand
with obesity, else wherefore the pertinency
of the time honored adage, "laugh
and grow fat?" The coffin in which he
was buried was three feet six
inches broad at the shoulders, and more
than three feet deep. They had more
trouble, probably, in getting the corp9c
from the house in which he died to its
dual resting-place than was experienced
in the case of Mme. Victoria, for a way
was cut through the wall and staircase
of his house to let it down into the shop.
It was drawn on a low-wheeled carriage
to the church by twelve men, and was
lowered into the giave by means of an
engine fixed up on the church for that
purpose, and in the presence of an immense
number of curiosity-seeking spectators,
who came from all parts of the
country. After his death, if the bull
may be pardoned, he was made the subject
of ridiculous wager that five men,
each twenty-one years of age, could be
buttoned in his waistcoat. This wager
was decided in the Black Bull inn
in Maiden, where not only five but seven
men were inclosed in the waistcoat without
straining a button or breaking a
stitch. But outstripping Sir. Bright
was the famous Daniel Lambert, who at
the marvelous bulk of 739 pounds died
at Stamford on the 21st of July, 1809.
Three years earlier he was on exhibition
in London with an immense following.
At this time he was 36 years of age, and
his exhibition bill says that he was then
91 pounds heavier than Mr. Bright was,
which would make him 707 pounds, so
that in the three years which followed
up to the time of his death he
gained thirty-two pounds additional.
Lambert died very suddenly, having
gone to bed well 9t night, but expiring
before 9 o'clock the next morning. He
was a man who ate moderately and drank
only water, which would seem to refute
the Falstaflian theory that sack is conducive
to obesity. Like all fat men, he
was a fine singer and possessed an excellent
tenor voice. Owing to the immense
size of his legs the coftin in which
he was buried had to be made in the
form o f a case rather than in conventional
coffin fashion, and it may have
been the forerunuer of our modern
burial caskets. It was of stout English
elm,and its dimensions were six feet four
inches long, four feet four inches wide
ana two feet four inches deep. He died
| on the ground floor of an inn, as he had
j long been incapable of ascending a flight
of stairs. Yet there was trouble ex|
Derienced in getting the coffin from the
house, and the window and a part of the
wall of the room in which he died had
to be taken down in order to make a
| passage. The coffin, bv the way, was
built upon two axle-trees and four cogwheels,
and up these the remains of the
great man were rolled into his grave in
St. Martin's churchyard, a regular descent
having been made to the grave by
cutting away the earth for some distance.
Dr. F. Daniel records the case of a
young man of twent}r-two,who died from
excessive obesity, weighing 643 pounds;
and in the English Philosophical Transactions
for 1813 there is mentioned the
case of a girl of four years of age who
weighed 256 pounds.
A remarkable case is that of John
Love, who was the apprentice of Ryland,
a celebrated engraver of London, who
was executed for forgery in the latter
part of the last century. Love, who became
terrified by the shameful manner
of hi3 master's death, gave up the business
he wa3 learning and returned to his
native place in Dorsetshire. Being at
the time exceedingly feeble and emacia
ted, his friends, fearing that he was falling
into consumption, applied to a physician,
who recommended an abundance
of nutritious food as the best medicine
under the existing circumstances. Thus
advised Love acquired a taste for the
pleasures of the table, which he was soon
enabled to gratify by his success in business
as a bookseller. Suffocated by fat,
he died in his fortieth year, weighing
3G4 pounds. Mme. Victoria was unquestionably
the largest person of whom
we have any record who died on this
continent, but, while less by nearly two
hundred pounds than was Daniel Lambert,
we are at a loss to understand why
she required a coffin so much larger.
We have had '*many a good tall fellow"
here in our own country, but none of
them ever approached the lady in size.
The largest man we ever remember to
have seen in our own State of Massachusetts
was the lato Hon. Myron Lawrence,
of Belchertown, who in the
old days had been styled <kthe
Sheridan of the "Whig party." and
who at the time of his death pulled
down the scale3 at upward of 350
pounds. Here in Boston we have had
some notable fat men, among whom
might be mentioned the late Jailer Badlam,
the late Dr. Moriarty, the late
Thomas Morgan, who was the landlord
of the old l'en Franklin, and the late
John 11. Hall, the architect. There may
be cases of extreme obesity within our
midst at the present lime, but we know
not of them. We do know ot several
| who will pull down the scales in the
vicinity of 259 pounds, but that weight
i is a mere bagatelle.
Some men have been successful in petting
rid of their superfluous flesh. The
most successful of these was, perhaps, a
Spanish nobleman, the marquis of Cortina,a
general of the duke of Alva, whoso
body was in a condition of enormous
obesity. By the excessive use of vinegar
he so reduced himself that he could fold
his skin about him like a garment. The
duke of Alva flourished from 1508 to
1582, so it is evident that Cortina flourished
in Shakspeare's time. Is it not
possible that the great dramatist may
have heard of him, and that he puts the
result of his treatment into the mouth of
Falstaff, who says: "Bardolph, am I not
fallen away vilely since thia last action?
Do I not bate! Do I not dwindle? Why,
my skin hangs about me like an old lady's
loose gown!''?Boston Herald.
And now Chicago claims that pork is
a brain food, being the product of thousands
of Western Gens.?New York Newt.
1 TAIME'S SERMON.Is
C8
? er
THE QUEEN OF SHEBA AT S
JERUSALEM. Z
in
ti
The text: "Behold the half was not told tc
me." I. Kings?x., 7. ai
Solomon had resolved that Jerusalem ai
should be the centre of all sacred, regal and ti
commercial magnificence. He set himself to ai
work and monopolized the surrounding des- ni
ert as a highway for his caravans. He built w
the city of Palmyra around one of the prin- y<
cipal wells of the East so that all the long lij
trains of merchandise from the East were to
obliged to stop there, pay toll and leave part oi
of their wealth in the hands of Solomon's tl
merchants. He manned the fortress Thapsa- f<
cus, at the chief port of the Euphrates, and ol
?ut under guard everything that passed there, al
he three great products of Palestine?wine, tl
pressed from the richest clusters and cele- li
brated all the world over, oil, whiGh in that b
hot country is the entire substitute for butter n
and lard, and was pressed from the olive le
branches until every tree in the country be- tl
came an oil well, and honey, which was the sj
entire substitute for sugar?these three great r:
products of the country Solomon exported, a
and received in turn fruits and precious n
woods and the animals of every clime. o.
He went down to Ezion-geber and ordered La
a fleet of ships to be constructed, oversaw U
the workmon and watched the launching of d
the flotilla which was to go out on more than "
a year's voyage to bring home the wealth of a
the then known woria. xie neara mat tuo ni
Egyptian horses were large and swift and T
long maned and round limbed, and he re- U
solved to purchase them, giving eighty-five
dollars apiece for them, putting the best of tc
these horses in . his own stall and selling tho g<
surplus to foreign potentates at great profit. J<
Ho heard that there was the best of timber w
on Mount Lebanon, and he sent out 180,000 ai
men to hew down the forest and drag the bt
timber through the mountain gorges to con- w
struct it into rafts to be floated to Joppa, and ai
from thence to bo drawn by ox-team twenty- ai
five miles across the land to Jerusalem. He tt
heard that there were beautiful flowers in Q
other lands. He sent for them, planted them d<
in his own gardens, and to this very day re
there are flowers found in the ruins of that ai
city such as are to bo found in no other part hi
of Palestine, the lineal descendants of the is
very flowers that b'olomon planted. He Ti
heard that in foreign groves there were birds pi
of richest voice and most luxuriant wing, ci
He sent out people to catch them and bring a)
them there, and he put them into his cages. ol
Stand back now and see this long train of ai
camels coming up to the king's gate and the c*
i fi-oino fmm w.rrvnt.' crnIrl and silver and oK
ui j jr-i o ?
precious stones and beasts of every hoof and a]
birds of every wing and fish of every scale, gi
See the peacocks strut mid the cedars and the fl]
h Tsemen run and the chariots wheel. Hnrk m
to the orchestra. Gaze upon the dance. Not tt
stopping to look into the wonders of the tern- 0i
pie step right on to the causeway and pass up fo
to Solomon's palace. Here we find ourselves w
amid a collection of buildings on which the tr
king had lavished the wealth of many em- m
pires. The genius of Hiram, the architect,
and of the other artists is here seen in the Q
long line of corridors and the suspended gal- jo
lery and the approach to the throne. Trac- CI
eried window opposite traceried window. *<
Bronzed ornaments bursting into lotos and (a
lily and pomegranate. Chapiters, surrounded ai
by network of leaves, in which imitation fruit oi
se?med suspended as in banging baskets, tii
Three branches?so Josephus tells us?three di
branches sculptured on the marble, so thin ti
and subtle that even the leaves seemed to w
quiver. A layer capable of holding 500 bar- c<
rels of water, on 60) brazen ox heads, which gi
gushed with water and filled the whole placo tl
with coolness and crystalline brightness and
musical plash. Ten tables chased with
chariot wheel and lion and cherubim. tc
Solomon sat on a throne of ivory. At the b<
seating place of the throne, on each end of b'
Lt- - ? 1'"a? Wkv mw ffiflnrlo |v"
lUd bWJ]JS u. uiaitiu uuu. IIU[, >11J 11 iv.mu, u,
in that place they timmed their candles with b;
snuffers of gold, and th^y cut their fruits tl
with knives of gold, they scooj>ed out tbe bi
ashi s with shovels of gold, and they stirred rj
the altar-fires with tongue3 of gold. Gold a!
reflected in the water! Gold flashing from ci
the apparel! Gold blazing in the crown! tl
Gold, gold, gold! it
Of course the news of the affluence of that it
place went out everywhere by every caravan A
and by the wing of every ship, until soon the a
streets of Jerusalem are crowded with curi- tl
osity seekers. What is that long procession a
approaching Jerusalem? I think from, the d
pomp of it there must be royalty in the train, ir
I smell the breath of the' spices which are m
brought as presents, and I hear the shout of tl
the drivers, aud I see the dust-covered cara- ^
van, showing that they are come from far vt
away. Cry the news up to the palace ! The tl
Queen of Sheba advances ! Let a!l the peo- ir
pie come out to see! Let the mighty men of t<
the land come out on the palace corridors! ri
Let Solomon come down the stairs of the pal- h
ace before the queen has alighted! Shake 1(
out the cinnamon, and the saffron, and th<i a
calamus and tho frankincense and pass it into n
the treasure-house! Take up thj diamonds
until they glitter in tho sun! e'
The Queen of Sheba alights. She enters a:
the palace. She washes at the bath. She si
sits down at the banquet. Tho cup-bearera hi
bow. The meats srnoke. The muMc trem- n
bles in the hall and through tho corridors un- tl
til it mingles in the dash of the waters from tl
t-ha million c?.i Thmi risiw fpiilll l.hfl Vi.
banquet and she walks through the eonserva- y
tories and she gazes on the architecture, and w
she asks Solomon many strange questions, h
and she learns about the religion of the He- ai
brews, and she then and there becomes a ser- ai
vant of tho Lord God. She is overwhelmed, gv
She begins to think that all the spices she L
brought and all tho precious woods which at e tc
intended to be turned into harps and psa'ter- st
ies and into railings for the causeway be- 01
tween the temple and the palace, b1
and the $1S0,(M> in money?she be- ^
gius to think that all these presents a,
amount to nothing in such a place, and she is j]
almost ashamed that she has brought them, n
and she says within herself: 'I heard a great n
deal about this place and about this wonderful
religion of the Hebrews, but I find it far g]
beyond my highest anticipations. I must a
add more than fifty par cent, to what ha3 ^
been related. It exceeds everything that I
I "l'l TKo lioH' f.Via Hoi f war a. .
; UUlliU IIOVD DAJAH-IOU. i uu uuiij w?W ?? ? bl
not told me. ^
Learn from this subject what a beautiful j
thing it is when social position and woalth ^
surrender themselves to God. When religion ^
comes to a neighborhood the first to receive j,
it are tho women. Some men say it is be- a
cause they are weak-minded. I say it is because
they have quicker perception of what u
is right, more ard^ht alfecti?n, and capacity t]
for sublime emotion. After the women have jj
received the'gospel, then all the distressed u
ani the poor of both sexes, those who have 8j
no friends, accept Jesus. Last of all come the tl
people of affluence and high social position, f
Alas, that it is so! If there are those here n
to-day who have been favored of fortune, or, <<
as I might better put it, favored of God, surrender
all you have and all you expect to be ^
to the Lord, who blessed this queen of Sheba. *,
Certainly you are not ashamed to be found j,
r? flno finaan'c nnmnonv M
I am glad that Christ has had his imperial s
friends in all ages?Elizabeth Christina, ?
queen of Prussia; Maria Feodorovna, queen j
of Russia; Marie, empress of France; Helena, j
the imperial mother of Constantino; Ardadia, p
from her great fortunes building public (j
baths in Constantinople and toiling for the ^
alleviation of the misses; Queen Clotilda, g
leading her husband and 3,000 of his armed u
svarriors to Christian baptism; Elizabeth of v
Burgundy, giving her jeweled glove to a v
beggar and scattering great fortunes among <<
the distressed: Prince Albert singing "Rock . i\
of Ages" in Windsor castle and Queen Vic- ti
toria incognito reading the Scriptures to a a
dying pauper. I bless God that tho day is ?
coming when royalty will bring all its thrones v
and music, all its harmonies and painting, all
its pictures and sculptures, all its statuary
and architecture, all its pillars and conquest,
all its scepters and the queens of the earth in
long line of advance frankincense filling the
air, and tho camels laden with gold shall approach
Jerusalem and tho gates shall be
hoisted and the great burden of splendor shall
be lifted into tho palace of this greater than
Solomon.
Again, my subject teaches me what is
earnestness in the search of truth. Do you
know whflre Shftbn. was? It was in Abvs
sinia, or somo say, in tho southern part of D
Arabia Felix. In either case it was a great 1
way oil' from Jerusalem. To get from tliore f
to Jerusalem she had to cross a country infested
with bandits and go across blistering ?
doserts. Why did not the Queen of Sheba
stay at home and send a committee to inquire B
about this new religion and have the delegates
report in regard to that religion and the
wealth of King Solomon? She wanted to see
for herself and hear for herself. She could /
not do this by work of committee. She felt j:
she had a soul worth ten thousand kingdoms
like Sheba and she wanted a robe richer than o
any woven by oriental shuttles and she j.
wanted a crown set with tho jewels of eternity.
Bring out the camels. Put on the d
>ic63. Gather up the jewels of the throne
id put them on the caravan. Start
jw. No timo to be lost. Goad on the
imels. When I seo that caravan, dust-cov ei,
weary and exhausted, trudging on
iross the desert and among the bandits unlit
reaches Jerusalem, I say: "There is an
truest seeker after the truth." But there
:e a great many of you, my friends, who do
at act in that way. "iou all want to get
le truth, but you want the truth to come
? you; you do not waut to go to it. There
:e people who fold their arms and say: "I
n ready to become a Christian at any
me; if I am to be saved, I will be saved,
id it 1 am to be lost, I shall be lost." A
lan who says that, and keeps on saying it,
il! be lost. Jerusalem will never come to
du, you must go to Jerusalem. The region
of the Lord Jesus Christ will not come
i vou: you must go and get religion. Brine
it the camels; put on all the sweet spices, all
le treasures of the heart's affection and start
ar the throne. Go in and hear the waters
f salvation dashing in fountains all around
bout tho throne. Sit down at the banquet?
ae wine pressed from tSo grapes of the
eavenly eshcol?the angels of God the cupearers.
Goad on the camels; Jerusalem will
ever come to you; you must go to Jerusaim.
The Bible declares it. "The Queen of
le South?that is, this very woman I am
leaking of, the Queen of the South?shall
ise up in judgment against this generation
nd condemn it; for she came from the utterlost
parts of the earth to bear the wisdom
C Solomon, and lo! a greater than Solomon
here." God help tne to break up the inituation
of those people who are sitting
own in idleness expecting to be saved.
Strive to enter in at the strait gate. Ask
nd it shall be given you; seelc and ye shall
fid; knock and it shall be opened to you."
ake the kingdom of heaven by violence,
rge on the camels.
Again, my subjoct impresses me with the
ict that religion is a surprise to any one that
its it. This story of the new religion in
arusalem and of the glory of King Solomon,
ho was a type of Christ?that story rolls on
id on and is told by every traveler coming
ick from Jerusalem. The news goes on the
ing of every ship and with every caraVan,
id you know a story enlarges as it is retold,
id by the time that story gets down into
te southern part of Arabia, Felix and the
ueen of Sbeoa bears it, it must be a tremenjus
story. And yet this queen declares in
igard to it, although she bad heard so much
id had her anticipations raised so high, the
ilf?the half was not told her. So religion
always a surprise to any one that gets it.
be story of grace?an old story. Apostles
-eached it with rattle of chain, martyrs deared
it with arm of fire, death-beds have
firmed wioh visions of glory, and ministers
religion have sounded it through the lanes
id the highways and the chapels and the
T* Koo mif in hn QtnnA Wlt.h
ICLICX-U CI A3. XV UUO MWli VUH AUWV wvv.av .....
lisel and spread on the canvas with pencil;
ad it has been recited in the doxology of
reat congregations. And yet, when a man
rst comes to look on the palace of God's
lercy, and to see tbe royalty of Christ, and
le wealth of his banouet, and the luxriance
! his attendants, ana the loveliness of his
tee, and the joy of his name, he exclaims
ith prayers, with tears, with songs, with
iumph: "Tha half?ihe half was not told
e."
I appeal to those in thia house who are
hristians! Compare the idea you had of the
y of the Christian life before you became a
hristian, with the appreciation of that joy
)u have now since you have lecome a Chrisn,
and ycu are willing to attest before
igels and men that you never in the days
! your spiritual bondage had any appreciaon
of what was to coma You are ready toly
to answer, and if I gave you an oppormity,
in the midst of this assemblage, you
ould speak out and say in regard to the disiveries
you have made of the mere/and the
race and the goodness of God: The half?
ie half was not told me!
Well, we hear a great deal about the good
ma that is coming to this world when it is
> he girdled with salvation. Holiness on the
;!ls of tha horses. The lion's niano patted
j the hand of a babe. Ships of Tarshish
ringing cargoes for Jems and the hard, dry,
irren, winter-bleached, storm-scarred,
lunder-split rocc breaking into ilo^ds of
right water. Dejerts into which dromodaes
thrust their nostrils because they were
fraid of tho simoon, deserts blooming into
irnation roses and silver-tipped lilies. It is
le old story. Everybody tells it Isaiah told
t-I? t_i.i . ?. u-..! frvl.l
? U Uli II IAJIU ill. JL QUI IUJU 111, VU4W
? Luther told it. Calvin told it. Johu
[iltou told it. Everybody tells it, and yet?
nd yet when the midnight shall fly
hills and Christ shall marshall his great
rmy and China, dashing her idols into the
ust, shall hear the voice of God and wheel
lto lino; and India, destroying her Juggsraut
and snatching up little children irom
a? Ganges, shall hear the voice of God and
-heel into line; and vine-covered Italy and
'heat-crowued Russia and all the nations of
le earth shall hear the voice of God and fall
ito line; then the church which has been
jihng and struggling through the centuries,
abed and garlanded like a bride adorned for
er husband, shall put aside her veil and
>ok up into the face of her Lord, the King,
nd say: "The half?the half was not told
ie."
Well, there is coming a greater surprise to
7ery Christian?a greater surpriss than
ay thing I have depicted. Heaven is an old
x>ry Everybody talks about it There is
ardly a hymn in the hymn-book that does
ot refer to it Children read about it. in
leir sabbath-school book. Aged men put on
leir spectacles to study it We say it is a
arbor from the storm. We call it our home,
^e say it is the house of many mansions. We
eave together sweet beautiful, delicate, exilarant
words?we weave them into letters
nci we speii ic out in rose ami my nnu aiimrath.
And yet that place is going to be a
irprise t?. the most intelligent Christian,
ike the Queen of Sheba, the report has come
> us from the far country and many of ushave
arted. It is a desert march, but we urge
1 the camels. What though our feet be
listered with the way, we are hastening to
ie palace. We take all our loves and hopes
id Christian ambitions as frankincense and
ayrrli and cassia to the great King. We
lust not rest Wo must not halt The
ight is coming on and it is not safe out here
1 the desert I see the domes against the
cy and houses of Lebanon, and the temples,
nd the gardens. See the fountains dance in
le sun and the gates flash as they open to
it in the poor pilgrims. Send t he word up
3 the palace that we are coming and that
re are weary of the march of the dosert The
[ing will come out and say: "Welcome to
lie palace, bathe in these waters, reclino on
aese banks. Take this cinnamon and franklcense
and myrrh and put it upon a censer
nd swing it before the alter."
And yet, my friends, when heaven bursts
pon us it will be a greater surprise than
bat. Jesu3 on the throne and we made like
im! All our Christian friends surrounding
s in glory. All our sorrows and tears ana
ins gone by forever. The thousands of
tiousands, the one hundred and forty and
our thousands, the great multitudes that no
lan can number will cry world without end:
The half, the half was not told me."
I tell you heaven will be a glorious suririse.
Surprise at the throne, surprise at the
ompanionship, surprise at the music, everlisting
surprise. Oh, S3e those two souls beore
the throne. They are a mother and her
on. When that mother died and went up to
lory she left a wandering boy. She said to
tim in the last hour, "Meet me in Heaven."
To mnrlfl nr> nrmniiiA Hfl WAnt richfe On.
''or twenty years he went on in sin, but on9
ay, memory, a gracious memory camo to
is soul and he cried unto God and was foriven.
and he turned into patli3 of righteous
ess and he served the Lord,and then after a
rhilo went up to the shining gate and he
rent in, and now they meet, mother and son.
Oh," she says, "what a glorious surprise
his is. My poor lost boy. Praise the grace
:iat saves the chief of sinners. The dead is
live a;rain, the lost 19 found. Hallelujah!
[allelujah! Come all Heaven and rejoice
rith me."
Blest are the saints beloved of God,
"Washed are their robes in Jesus' blood,
Brighter than ange's, lo! they shine,
Their p,lories splendid and divine.
My soul anticipates the dny.
Would stretch her wings and soar away
To aid the song, the palm to bear,
And bow the chief of sinners there.
The Boston Traveler says: A vessel
ow lying in Boston harbor is called
"emperance Bell. It must be a good
emperancc craft, for the worst charge
Lat could be brought again9t it is that
he is generally "water-tight.
A Deer journal says: Beer brewers in
Lmerica employ an army of half a milion
men; they have invested a quarter
f a billion dollars in their business, and
hey sell about one hundred and eighty
aillion gallons of beer a year. _ ,
why?
A baby came into tlie world one day,
And the parents smiled in pride,
As swift to the messages flashed away,
Came greetings from far and wide.
A liohv want nnfr. nf t.ho wnrkl rmo rncrhfi.
"v? """ ?? ~ ?O 1
And the mother moaned aloud,
For the stainless soul that had gained the
light,
For the form iu the pearl-white shroud.
Oh? the mystery here, the problem deep?
Philosophers pause awhile!
Why do we laugh when we ought to weep
And weep when we ought to smile?
?Nellie F. O'Neill, in Boston Courier.
RELIGIOUS READING.
Wilt Thou Go I
Sweet and solemn lull the accents
Of tho Holy Spirit's voice,
As Ho gently pleadeth with us,
Urging us to make our choice.
"Unto Christ, to [Iim who loves thoo
With a love thou ne'er ennst know,
Unto Iliin Avho died 10 save thee
Wilt thou go? Wilt thou go?
' Follow me, and I will guide thee
Safe across ourth's desert plain,
And lx>guile its dreary wnsteness
With soil whisperings of his nnmo,
Unto Him who wn'.ts to meet thee
In the Hoaven's eternal glow,
There to reign with Him forever,
Wilt thou go ? Wilt thou no 1"
"We will go," wo answer gladly,
Blessed Spirit nt Thy call.
Though tho r>?ad be fuil of danger,
Thou wilt bring us safe through all
Wo will fnllnw in llio nnth'.vfiv
That alone our Master trod.
Knowing that its narrow windiugs
Lead ua surely up to God.
"Wc will go," the world forsaking
With its endless toil nnd strife,
Into all tho peaco nnd gla jness
Ol the resurrection life;
Each new step our trust will deepen,
In His mighty love and grace,
Till at last, our journey over,
We buhold Him faco to fuco.
? The Christian.
Blood Will Tell.
When, at a meeting of the General
Association ot Illinois, the leader of a
devotional service requested the sons
of Christian mothers to stand, nearly
every minister present rose to his feet.
"Her children," says tho proverb, oi
the virtuous woman, "arise up and
call her blessed." Aristocratic pride
of family is the just scorn of every
true American. We want no "degenerate
sons of noble sires among us.'
We have enough and to spare of them,
studying out for their seal-rings and
coach-panels old family coats-of-arms,
and taking airs on the score of some
titled ruffian of lour or five centuries
ago. There was truth ai well as wit
in Saxe's saying that the line of one's
ancestry, traced back, is quite apt to
end in a cobbler's waxed end or a
l A.
nangmau a kuuu
]3ut the laws of heredity transmit
something more than names, heraldic
devices and vain conceit. Mysteriously
and awfully they bear down legacies
of character from parent to child.
They steer the new-comer into the
world, from before his birth, along the
lino of endless destiny. Truo as it is
that responsible moral action begin?
only with the actor himself, it is no
less true that proclivities starting
from far back of such action, flow
steadily down from age to age.
"Though we are not to be judged foi
the f in of Adam before us," said Prof.
Swing, in a recent sermon, "a fearful
judgment may comti on us for the sins
of our children."
As the traveler approaches the
northern entrance of the Mt. Cenis
Tunnel, he sees, emerging miles awaj
and and above from among the snows,
a silvery rill which his eye distinctly
traces widening and deepening downward,
till it plunges and roars as a
resistless torrent at his feet. But only
the Omniscient eye follows the stream
of moral refinement or contamination
that arose centuries ago and b^ars onward
in its sweep the men and women
of to-day. And every parent contributes
to that stream. Every parent
rises from the dead to live again in the
i-- r vi. n,i rru?
me UJL IJ13 UJ1WU. JLUCJ jjaOSlUIlilbC
mother of Lord Byron stormed and
raged in the wild career of the poet.
The godly mother of the "Wesleys
suffered and toiled for human welfare
in the memorable years of her sons.
A child has a right to be not onlj
well-trained, tut, before the training
can begin, well-born. It is of immeasurable
moment not merely whal
the parent does, but whal he is. For the
depth and richness of nature, the
moral force and effectiveness, which
he ought to transfer to his child, aristi
from behind his own will, in the verj
core of his being. A deep, mature,
well-rounded Christian charactei
comes not from conversion alone
Martin Luther become "the monk thai
shook the world," not through repen
tance and faith alone. He had inher
ited the physical soundness, the brain
and brawn, with which to stand
tremendous strain that came upor
him. And centuries of old Germac
hardihood and valor were in the maD
the stuff that was heroic long before i1
came to be Christian. The Teutonic
fire that not all the legions of Ilomt
could quench blazed up again in de
fiance of papal Rome as well.
Many a Christian father is left tc
wonder that his boy resists his influence,
because he has begun to wondei
and grow anxious too late. He maj
have become a father far back in th<
years of his own ungodliness, wner
pride, or impurity, or passion, or stub
born unbelief, had the mastery in him
How is his repentance long afterwarc
to remedy his wrong to his child? A
stream runs itself clear, it is said, ir
four miles. But a cup of water taker
from it where it is foul will be no les:
foul for the purity a league or tw<
below. But it may be that, evensinci
the father's entrance on the Christiai
life, the change has never yet strucL
through him to renovate his whole na
tare. And this evil nature, transferrer
by the law o? heredity to the child
contends against the precepts that th*
father repeats in vain.
The law of moral transmission ha:
been mainly, thus far along the ages
the channel through which corruptior
I ,i?n4<v. v>o^ra flnu/or? rlnivn frnm crpn
ULIU UDd L 11 11(1 < u 11V II uu uv 11 M - Q
eration to generation, it was divinel;
designed as a channel of blessing
Grace may flow through it as well a:
corruption. The noblest impulses an<
proclivities of a sanctified character
descending from sire to son, may in
cline the infant will to righteousnes
J and to Christ. Some slight foreglean
of that may be seen in many a Chris
tian home even now. And more am
more as the tone of Christian charac
( ter rises, shall the law of heredity tun
1 from a curse to a blessing.?Advance.
" A CLEVER DECEPTION.
How Twenty-Four Soldiers Outwit*
. ted their Sergeant.
An exchange tells this story of a
French sergeant to whom was intrusted
the oversight of twenty-four soldiers,
and who, doubtless, had a chance to find ,
out for himself the truth of Longfellow's
statement that "things are not what they ;
seem."
In the building which the soldiers
were to occupy there were nine rooms,
so he arranged his men in the following
manner, taking care to keep the center |
room to himself, so that he could thus
manage a sort of a warlike "puss in the
corner":
By this disposition
3 3 3 of his men, the brave
sergeant had nine sta
tioned on each face of
the building, and so
3 3 flattered himself that \
it was guarded. By ]
and by the soldiers
grew tired, and not
3 3 3 seeing any signs of i
danger, they knocked j
at the door of the center room, and a9ked
permission to alter the arrangement, so
that they might have a little amuse- ^
mcnt. <
The sergeant gave consent on condi- 1
tion that there should be always niae ]
men on each side of the house, and then
retired to re3t.
About an hour afterward he went his 1
rounds, and found the men arranged 1
thus: i
He counted care-f ,
fully. There were nine1 4 14
on each side, so he 1
went to bed again, ?? j
quite satisfied with the j
conduct of his men, 1 1
and little imagining
that four soldiers had 3
gone for a walk in the I
town, as you may see 4 1 4 <
if you count the numbers
in the plan adjoining.
Not long afterward the truants re- 1
fnrnfid. brincrincr with them four friends, i
J 0 o
There were now twenty-eight men in the i
building. For the second time the ser- ,
geant went his rounds and found the
rooms occupied as follows: 1
"Nine on each aide," 3
2 5 2 he thought, "certainly
;I am a lucky fellow to ,
have such a trust1
[worthy set of men
5 5 under me." And yet 1
;there were four more
?? soldiers than there :
[were at first, and eight 1
2 5 2 'more than when he last
iwent round. Truly, '
"things are not what they seem." J
Soon after the sergeant had retired, <
( four more fresh soldiers came in, so the 1
number of the detachment was increased
' to thirty-two. Once more the vigilant
1 sergeant went round. Once more he 3
1 found nine on each side, and went back
1 to his room without suspecting mischief.
Why should he be doubtful when there
were always nine men on each side?
By and by four more men came in, and
the number in the building was raised to (
, thirty-six. The men[
i were at first afraid 17 1
, that they would bej 1
i found out, but after 1
, a little while they
( managed to arrange 7 7 (
, themselves so that the
; magic number should
still be found on each
oid??neither more nor 17 1
less. | j
And so for the fourth time the sergeant
' counted, and was satisfied.
Made bold by their
0 9 0 success in puzzling
their leader, the men
i agreed that half should
leave the building,
, 9 9 only eighteen remainling
behind. "While
. they were gone the serk
igeant came round lor
,0 9 0 jthe last time and found
jthc arrangement as ,
follows:
1 What more could a[
man wish? There were' 5 0 4
1 nine on each side, and!
' yet there were six men ?:
? less than at first, and
> eighteen less than 0 0
) when he last went
I round. 1
It is easy to explain i
i how the sergeant was 4 0 5
i deceived. The corner
rooms are counted on both sides of the
r house at once. The more there are in 1
r these rooms, the fewer there are in the i
' whole building, and the fewer there are ;
. in the corner rooms the more there are .
j in the house.
_ . .. n -i
Where England's nuiers uru DIUICUi I
A place has been given in this list to
Oliver Cromwoll. Strictly speaking,
Cromwell was not a sovereign, but most .
people will agree with Macaulay, thai
"he was the greatest Prince that evei
ruled England." His remains were dis- 1
honored when Charles II. came to the i
throne, but there is no dishonoring hii ]
place in history.
William J., at Caen 103" '
William IL, at Winchester 11(K <
Henry L, at Reading Abbay 113c
Stephen, at Favtjrsham Abbey, Kent... 115-1
Henry II., at Fontevraud, Anjou 11SJ
Richard L, at Fontevraud, but his heart
was bequeathed to the citizens of
Rouen lift (
John, at Worcester 12M
Henry III., at Westminster Abbey 127i <
Edward I., afc Westminster Abbey 1301 (
Edward II., at Gloucester Abbey 132' .
Edward III., at Westminster Abbey.... 137' J
Richard II., at Westminster Abbey.... 13ft $
Henry IV., at Canterbury 141;
Henry V., at Westminster Abbey 142i *
Henry VL, at Windsor 1471 f
Edward IV., at Windsor 14Si
Edward V., at Westminster 14S; t
. Richard III., at Gray Friars. His bones j
were notallowed to remain mere; mey
were torn from his humble bed by (
Henry VIII., and his stone cofiin used f
I as a drinking trough for horses at an
inn in Leicester 14SJ ^
Henry VII., at Westminster.... 1503 (
1 Henry VIIL, at Windsor 1541
1 Edward VI., at Westminster 1503 '
3 Mary I., at Westminster 155S i
Elizabeth, at Westminster 1(50;: j
' James I., at Westminster 102." '
B Charles I., at Windsor ll>4S ,
1 Cromwell, at Westminster 1G60
, Charles II., at Westminster KISS 1
L Mary II., at Westminster Abbey MM
- James II., at St. Germain, Paris 1701
i William III., at Westminster Abbey... 170- i
Anne, at Westminster Abbey 171-1 ,
' George I., at Hanover 1721
5 George IL, at Westminster Abbey 17M ]
George III., at Windsor 1820 ,
3 George IV., at Windsor 1831
William IV., at Windsor 1S3" 1
? ?Leeds (England) Mercury. .
1
The Merry Old Wind. *
f Oh, tho wind, tlio merry old wind, i
Sends the ship flying over the sea, ,
L And it softly blows the scent of the rose
J Up from tho meadow unto me.
It whirls the leaves, the pretty gold loaves,
' In shining eddies along the Way, (
And sendoth tho brown nuts tumbling dowc
3 Where the sumachs staud in their fezzes '
a gay.
Z But, oh, the wind, the merry old wind, <
3 That will open the violet by-and-by,
Can nevermore be very solid with me,
n For it's blown a hot cinder into my eye.
11 -Puck.
TEMPERANCE" T0PIG3,
A Bmjr Small Boy. 1
f know a small boy, a very small boy,
Who's as busy as he can be, 1
Would you like to see himi Well, look thfe J
That very small boy is me.
rhey tell me a man is a boy grown up,
And the man who is good and great, 9
fs the one who began when a very small boy
To grow exceedingly straight.
[ want to be good and great when a man, 1
And I think I have started fair, \
For I've faithfullv promised "never to drink, %
Or smoke, or chew, or swear." 1
So, my friends, this b:>y, this very small boy, .-HSaH
Who's as busy as be can be, '\<?i
Wants help from his friends; will you look I
this way?
That very small boy is me. |
?Juvenile Temperance Reciter. 1
How Drunkards arc Made. j
At a meeting in Philadelphia, during ^il
the week of prayer, one of the speakers -J
related this incident:
A lad was approached by one of those
dispensers of that which deprives men of
;heir property and destroys both body
and. soul, who solicited him to come into
[lis place of destruction and take a glass
5f lemonade. The boy hesitated, but oa
being assured that he would get nothing :
but a glass of nice, sweet lemonade, he
iras induced to go in. Sure enough, he
was offered and partook of what had
been promised him and nothing more.
This was repeated several times, till at .
length, the trap having been set, it was %
aow time to spring it. Accordingly, the ;
rumseller began his work by dropphig
in the glass of lemonade one drop of
afpftnr* linrinr ln/?r#>an?nop ifc an fhiia ?' '
imperceptibly to form in the lad a taste
for it. As the boy never paid for his
drinks one of the old customers of the
place asked the landlord why he so fav- * - ^
ored the boy. He replied by pointing ; J
and saying: "Do you see that fine mansion
upon the hill yonder? That belongs to
the boy's father, and will probably |
soon belong to him, and then in turn it _ VJ
may belong to me."
Fiendish! Horrible! Alongheadedf
deep laid scheme to ruin a family and '
rnh them of their nronertv: for certainlv
such a scheme, if successful could be
looked upon &s nothing less than downright
robbery, and as much a penitentiary
offence as any other kind of rob.
bery. And if there is any one place of
greater punishment in the devil's kingdom
than another, is not such an one entitled
to share it? ;
But are not all rumsellers alike in this , "3
respect? They do not care who is hurt, .
who comes to grief, who suffers the
pangs of hunger and cold, who goes to
a home of sorrow and wretchedness,
whose children cry for bread or whose
wife is abused, or beaten, [or murdered,
so they can fill their own coffers and live .
on the fat of the land through their ill * j
gotten gains. For the most of them take '
carc not to jeopardize their own property
by indulging in excess in the nasty and
destructive stuffs that they deal out to
others.
The Drunkard'a Children*
What were they? Guess they were
mirthful and their hearts were full of
song, when with joy they watched at the
gate for father's coming, and then,
covering his face with kisses, their joy
was complete. He thought of them
when away, and was glad when he was
to return. Then no cloud was over their
childhood sky. They were so happy,
when, with their hand in their fathers
they walked with him, and seemed to
Bay: "This is our good father." And
they saw a smile of joy on their mother's
lips when father came home looking so
proud of his children.
How is it now? They do not run out
to meet him; in place of their wonted joy
at his return, there is a sad, a melancholy
look; instead of laughter and
aongs there are tears and sobs, and in*
stead of throwing their arms about him,
they remain in another room, or sit
quietly, for father comes?as a drunkard
no w! He has no words of love for them,
no caress of tenderness, no gifts reminding
them that they have been in hi*
thoughts during the day. And how can
they be happy? Their sorrows are
known; other children look at them, and
iVkA*!! AAMMAnf TIlAtf 1 ATTO
IU13 1 LIU it: uses lucii ounvn* iuv; aurv
father, and say: "Never mind, mother,
when we are grown you shall not lire
this way; we will be able to help you."
God pity them! Let all good people
love them, and hate the traffic that has 3tolen
a father's heart from these littla
aces.?Iiec. F. W. Vinson.
Think of Thia, WorklngmenA
correspondent of John Swinton's
Paper, the organ of the labor unions,
sails attention to the claim of the brew;rs
that they give employment to 500,">00
men. and savs: * 'Think of this, work
ncrmen! Half a million men employed
n destroying food, in rotting grain, etc.,
urning it into a poison that makes men
lends, wives widows, children orphans,
he industrious lazy, the intelligent
mmbskulls, and sends women and chil*
Iren to workjin place of men, thus filling
he land with tnimpa and loafers for the
[Yorkers to support. If it is true that
ivery person who produces nothing
jeneficial to society is no better than a
pauper, then all labor employed making,
handling, or selling such drinks is labor
ivasted, and people so employed are paupers
and makers of paupers.
"The brewers, distillers, liquor, wine,
ind beer dealers, are among the worst
incmies of workingmen; the temperance
jeople are their friends. The former
'ob them of their health, happiness and
ife; the latter want to see every man.
ivoman and child well housed, clothed
lud fed. The objects of temperanco
ire the abolition of poverty, crime, disease
and premature death."
Two hundred public houses in London
were watched between the hours of
D and 12 on a recent Saturday nijxht for
the purpose of seeing how many persons *
entered them. The count showed that
they were visited by 86,603 personsmen,
women and children?during the
three hours.