The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 23, 1885, Image 3
M TALIAGE'S SERMON.
MEDICINE FOR ALI ILLS.
Text: 'The disciples wont out and told
Jesus/'?St. Matthew, xiv.12.
An outrageous assassination bad taken
place to appease the wrath x>f a revengeful
woman, iierod had ordered the death of
that noble, self-sacrificing Christian man,
John the Baptist. They were in consternation
and great trouble. There was no one
to whom they could appeal. Hut sorrow
if it find no human sympathy, will cry aloud
to the winds, and the woods and the waters.
Yet there was an ear that couid hear. What
beauty of pathos. What simplicity of power
in the words of my text: '"They went and
told Jusus!" There He stands. His face
shadowed with Ills own sorrows, surrounded
by a group of people in
consternation and with violent
gesticulations and outcries of woe. Here
was one ready to help them, ready to comfort
them, ready to sympathize with them.
Raphael, the master painter, never put on
wall of palace pictuio of Bible story so
thrilling and so graphic as this picture, made
by the p ain hand of the evangelist, when he
says: "They went and told Jesus!" The
Gotlies and the Vandals came down from the
nortli <,f Kurope, and they upset the gardens
and they broke down the altars, and thoy
swept tii-.' country with thebe;om of destruction*
And so in every man's life there are
times when trouble comes as a despoiler, as a
crusader, and blasts and plucks up,and plunders
and de-.troys. If I should ask all those
people in this audience who have never had
trial, or misfortune, or bereavement, or disorder,
to give signal, there would ba no signal.
If 1 should ask those who are sitting
to rise up, or those who are standing to lift
the hand as a signal of the fact that they
have never had any misfortune, any heartbreak.
any trouble, not one would rise and
not one hand would be lilted. There is not
any cavern so cleit in the mountains that it
can hide one from worldly misfortune.
Swiftest coarser has not fleet foot enough to
take us out of the swift pursuit. Thoso arrows
brought to the string fly with unerring dart,
and we fall pierced and stunned. ?So that
while I speak cn one subject I feel it is
only appropriate for one class, ami speak
on another subject it is appropriate for another
class. This morning 1 speak upon a subject
that addresses itself to every woman and
child in this assemblage, and I am going to
--- ? - ??.u?i.\ <,11 ;n, ?n
give <X wat'ivuvvii ivi ?*** Aiio, iui an iiiisfortunes
and for all trials. 1 am going to
tako ail your troubles?1 do not caro what
they have been?and put them in one bundle,
and with a spark from God's altar set them
abla/.e, and they shall be destroyed under the
power of Christ's consolation. The same
soothing power that came to the disciples in
the text will come this morning to all your
hearts, l?od helping us.
In the first place, I commend the behavior
of th .se disciples in the text to all thos? who
realize they are sinful and unpardoned.
There comes a time in the life of every sensible
man, every thoughtful man?1 do not
refer now to imbeciles?there comos a time in
the life of every honest, thoughtful, sensible
man. a time when he realizes he is a sinner
and he ought lo have pardon. That thought
may not have heft enough to fell him, but
"to get rid of it ono man will fly to prayer,
another will stimulate himself with ardent
spirits, another will plunge into greater secularises,
and you cannot wonder that when a
man finds out that his eternal destiny isswinging
on the pivot of an uncertainty, you cannot
wonder that that man does something violent
or something immediate to get rid of the impression.
It cannot be. for instance, that a
man this morning, should by the power of
the Ho y Ghost realize that he has a cancerous
si:i m his soul, and that Christ, the divine
surgeon stands right by him ready to
take the cancer out and it shall never return,
and he shall De cured for time and cured for
eternity?it cannot be possible that a man
shall reaiize that and not take some action?
So that hour probably has come to a great
many 1-ere, and the question is what to do.
Go and teli Jesus. "Why," you say, "then
to me you propose to cure one sorrow
by making another; you proposa to
cure the wound of sin by the wound of conviction."
You are righr. In all styles of
medicine that is the process. The physician
comes. Ke finds your ranking wound. It
has bee n thore for months, perhaps for year?.
W hat does he do? He cauterizes it. By
caustic he burns it out, an { (li re comes
health a;ain to those parts o: the body. And
here is the old sore of sin. A\'e all have it.
It may have b.vn there for ten vears, for
twenty years, for forty years,for sixty veal's.
n^,i kv : ?o A i.,,. 1.. , .I.
vvu *- iiiv-1 *jj "w A-xiiiiiguij giUt'C illlU HO
burns ii out by tlu> power of conviction, and
the llesh comes again as tho Hesli of a little
child. "Well," says every man in this audience,
"that is right, that is reasonable, that is
according to all schools of medicine. I mean to
have my soul cured of sin some day." When?
"Oh," you say, "it is only a matter of time."
But, my brother, when? "Well." you say,.
"some time I will attend to it."" That is not
satisfactory to your own soul; it is not satisfactory
to me. Let me fix some time. Alfred,
the king, before time-pieces wero invented,
use I to measure the day by three wax
candles, aild each wax candle burned einht
"nours. w nen one wax candle was burned
down eight hours had passed, when two wax
caudles sixteen hours, when tho three wax
candles had burned down the whole day was
departed?twenty-four hours. Oh, my
friend, I wish you and I, instead
of measuring our days and nights and
years by ear:hly time-pieces, would measure
t'lem by the mercies and the opportunities
that an? burning down and burning out,
never again to be relighted, lest at last we
awake to the discomfiture of the foolish virgins.
savins: "Our lamps have gone out."
Again: I commend the behavior of the disciples
in the text to all the tempted. I have
heard people say, "I am never tempted. 1
fo right on and attend to my work in l"?don't
feel these temptations you talk about.
When a man says that to me I know be lias
never tried to get free from the power of sin
and temptation and the deviL If a man be
bound band and foot, lying down in a prison
and he have handcuffs on and hopples on and
he makes no struggle, he is not aware of
the power of the chain, but just let him try
to get up and get loose, then he feels the
power of the iron, then he feels the strength
of the manacle, and if, my brother, you have
never felt temptation it is because you have
not struggled to break from these" temptations.
to be free in the liberty of the sons and
daughters of the Lord God "Almighty. It is
easy enough to float down stream. We just
lie upon the oars and just as fast as the river
goes just so fast we sail on, lloat on down.
No trouble about that. But suppose we want
to go the other way and we head up stream?
Then we have to use the oars and pull ami pull,
and perhaps make no headway. Well,
just ns long as wo go down with the current
of evil inclinations'; just as long as we go
along with the temptations of sin and the
devil, wegeton quite fast, quite rapiidly;
but suppose we turn to go the other way, and
head u:> toward God and Christ and heaven.
Oh, what a struggle it is, awful struggle,omnipotent
struggle, be?ause God comes in on
our side. And if )rou do not know, my
brother; if you do not know the p >wer of
temptation, it is becau-e you have not tried
to resist it, and you have not tried to be free
trrkm i*. flio rflArinna oni 51 t.ion fif
the gospel. Well, now, when the temptations
of life come upon you, what are 3*ou
going to do? How are you going to rereive
them? "When the wavo daches clear
over tho soul, the wave of temptation,
, have we nothing to hold on to? S'xtus w.sa
cardinal and he wanted to sit in the pontifical
chair. and he protended to be very lame, and
he came on crutches, and he said: "You
appoint me to the pontifical chair, I will not
live long anyhow, and then some one else
will follow me; it is only for a little while;
you see I can't live long." He came on
crutches and took the chair. Then he threw
away the crutches and said: "When I was
looking for the keys of St. Pet r I had to
atop, and now that I have found the kevs of
St. Peter I don't have to stop '' And he threw
away his crutches; he was well. Oh, how
suggestive this is of temptation. It seems
wan ana weax ana cripoieu, out ^ace
get the throne, and oh, how it grinds the
body and prints the soul?this awful master.
this awful tyrant. Is there no help for
those who are in temptation? Must wo go
into this battle with the world, the flesh and
the devil all alone? No. I have the prescription
of the text to announce to my own soul
and to your soul: go and tell Jesus. In the
8\*es that w^pt for the Bethany sisters I see
hop*. In that voice that broke the silence of
death so that 1 he widow of Naiii got back
her lost boy, stupendous grief waking up in
the arms ot' rapture?in that voice 1 hear the
command and the promise: "Cast thy burden
upon the I>rd, He will sustain thee."
Tempted in all points like as we are. Go and
tell Jesus.
Again I commend the behavior of the dis?
rir-'ts in the text to all who are persecuted.
They know that Hero<l had taken the head of
J dim titf Eajttiit; fcbay tiid uot know vvlwu
their turn would coma. Every John has his
Herod. There are people who do not think I
overmuch of you. Your misfortunes are j
honeycomb to thm. They hiss at you
through their teeth. The misinterpret your
action;}. They would like to see you upset.
They would be the most cheerfully submissivo
mourners at your funeral. No.oue escapes.
Some slander after awhile, horned and
hoofed and tusked, will corno after you lo
gor^ you and trample yo i into the dust. If
you say. "1 haven't an enemy in the world," j
fn, ot.T> frtct.ifvin<r to tho fa-t. vou are demon* I
stratins the fact that you have not done all j
your duty. Any man that goo? on and does
his whole duty challenges wrath and hell, and
persecution and scorn and misfortune will
corno just as certain as you sit there and I
stand hero. No escape. Sometim s it como3
in early Jife, sometimes it comes in midlife,
sometimes it comes in old age. One would
think that if any man would ever
escape it would be George Wiiitefield,
he who brought souls to God by
the thousands, and yet the learae l Dr. Johnson
wrote of White.'ieU, "he is only a mountebank."
Robert Hall, they say, used to preach
about heaven until the glories of the better
country slu wn in his face, and yet good John
Fester wrote of Robert Hull, "he is only an
actor, and the smile you see on his "face
when he speaks of heaven, is onlv the reflection
of his own vanity!" John Wesley, who
did so much to reform the chur h and save
the world, was pictor'ally on the board
fences of London, and ho was the target for
all the wits nnd punsters of his day. and
there were some who howlea at him as he
went through the streets, yet he was the
founder of Metho lism, and his nann with
many is the mightiest name save orse. the
name which is above every name, the name j
of Jesus. One would have thought that those !
men would have escaped misrepresentation :
and persecution and trial, and if they could .
not escape neither can you. neither can you, ;
neither can you. But what are you to do
when you are slandered or abused.' Go out !
ana nunc uown me ii?: t?imo j
making an explanation in regard to one false- |
ho d. there will ba fifty people that have just j
heard of that particular falsehood. While j
you ought to use a'l lawful means for the
purpose of setting yourself right, I want to
tell you men and women who are slandered
and abused and persecuted. I want to tell ;
you of one who had many insulting things!
said about Him,whose sobriety was disputed, j
whose mission was scoffed at, whose compan- !
ionshipwas denounced, and who was pursued j
as a bale and spit upon,'as a man, and howled !
at after He was dead. Just go to Him. Look i
up in His face and say: ''Oh, Lord Jesus, I !
see t!:e wounds on thy brow, the wounds on j
thy hands, tha wounds on thy feet, the j
wounds in thy side, and by all these wounds i
I beg Thee to pity me, ana help me, and res- !
cue me." Oh, abused soul, go and tell i
Jesns.
Again, I commend the behavior of the dis- j
ciples in the text to all the bereft As I look j
off upon the audience to-day, how' many !
signs of mourning! GJod has his own way of ;
taking apart the families of the earth. The j
fact is that the emigration of the human race
from this world to the next is such a vast
enterprise t iat God only can conduct it. But
that emigration from time to eternity keeps
three-fourths of the families of the earth in
desolation. The child, the babe that lay so
near the mother's heurt, is laid away in the
cold and the darkness. The laughter freezes
to the girl's lip, and the rose scatters. The
boy co.nes in Irom the harvest fields of Shunam
and says, "my head, my head!" and
dies in the lap of his mother. Widowhood has
struct into the pallid cheek the tragedv of j
woe anu orpnanage cries iu vum iui iaium ;
and mother. Oh, the grave is cruel! Is there i
no help, no consolation, no allienation, no |
rescue? There is; aye, there is. When we are
in misfortune our friends come in and try to
help us and they do help us to a certain extent,
but they cannot disentangle our finances,
they cannot cui e our sick, they cannot raise
ourdead. They do the best they can and we are !
glad to have them. But Christ can do all the j
work. He counts all the tears, He counts all !
the groans. He saw the tears as they started :
; and He saw the hiding-place of cur sorrow, j
i Bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh,Anguish of j
our anguish. As long as He remembers Lazarus1
tomb He will stand with us in the cemetery.
As long as He remembers His own
heartbreak He will be with us in the lacerations
of our affection. When He forgets I
the footsore, and the weary mind, and the I
exhausted body, and the awful cross, and j
His solemn grave, then Ho will forget you, j
but not until then. When we have trouble |
we send letters to our friends tolling them to j
come right away, or we send telegrams f ay- j
ing, "take the first train; come immedi- j
ately;" but it may be hours, it may be days ;
before our friends get to us. But Christ "is j
always present. He is before 3*0:1. !
He is on the right ha-id j
He is on the left hand, He is under you, Ho I
is over you, He is within you. Nearer than |
I the staff on which you lean. Nearer than the j
cup which 3*011 press to ycur lips. Nearer I
than the handkerchief with which ycu wipe I
away the tears. I preach Hirn f.his morning, j
an ever present Christ. Blessed be God the
Savior to whom those disciples went has all j
pow^r in heaven and on earth, and the last j
sword will leap from the scabbard of om- I
nipotence, and the last resource of ihe infinite j
God be exhausted before He will ailow one of |
His children to cry for help and not get ;
it. A child went with her father, a !
sea captain out on the ocean, and when the
first storm cam*, in the midnight, the child
awakened in groat fright. She said: "Where's
father? where's father*" "Oh," they said,
"your father is watching the storm: he is on
deck; he is guiding the ship." "Well, 'sai l
the child, "if father's on deck and he's guid- |
ing the ship, its all right. So I'll go to sleap j
again," and she slept ami I the howling of the j
tempest. Oh, men and women, tossed in the j
storms of this life, cyclone aftir cyclone, euroclydon
after euroclydon: let me tell you
that the Lord is guiding the ship, your Father
is on deck, and He will take you
safely through into the harbor.
All is well. All is well. Go and
? ? 1
Cell Josil3. mis moment, m unw emuost i
prayer, tell Him all about it. You were j
never so willing to receive your child when !
he got wounded in the street as your God is j
ready this moment to receive you. Oh
wounded soul. Do and tell oesua. What
will be the history of this science? How many
of you will surrender yourselves to the .Lord
who redeemed you? If you will not take
your own pardon and extirpate the consequences,
of your own sin. r tell you, my
brother, plainly, your life will be a failure,
ami your death disaster, and j'our eternity a
calamity, liut if you just start for Christ this
moment, your feet will strike the upward
path and the shining messengers who report
above what is done here will make the arches
of God resound with the tidings that you
went and told Jtam Soon all this scene
will bo gone. Where will we be a thousand
years from now? Where will we be a million
years from now? Where will wo bo a quadrillion
years from now? We will bo living
somewhere. Where will we be a quintrillioii
years from now? Xerxes had an army of
?men?it was probably the
largest army ever marshaled?and
on) day he rode along tbo
lino and reviewed the troops. Th-.-re
was a great huzzah as he went along the
Jinos. Then he took his position on a hill and
louke 1 off upon the host and burst into tears,
ana one or nis scan outers saiu: -wuyuu
you we;p in this time of triumph and exultation
when you ought to be full of joy?" "Ah,"
said Xerxes, "I weep be^auso I realize thatsoon
all this host will he gone." And I realize
it, and you realize it that soon all this assemblage
will bo gone?will hi gono from the
church, and will he gone from the home, and
will be gjne from thi streets and will b3
gone from the earth, and will be gone forever,
and whither? whither.
1 saw averse or two of very weird rhythm.
I do not know who was the author, but it is
very beautiful, as well as strange and uniquo:
'lis not for man to trifle,
Life is brief and sin is here;
Our ago is but a falling leaf,
A dropping tear.
Not many lives, but only ono
Have we one, only ono;
Hew sacred should that ono life be?
Ibat narrow span.
A Sailor.
"Are you a sailor?'-' asked Babster's
bright boy of Spook the other evening.
"No, my son," replied Spook, "a seafaring
life ha9 no attraction for me."
"But you are a sailor," said young
Babster.
"No, my child, you are mistaken."
"Well, at any rate, mother said she
had seen you 'half seas over more'n a
hundred times.' "?Lynn Union.
There are 243 more females than males
in Southbridge, Mass., but the Journal
office is not for sale. Bachelor editors
must start a Lew paper to be on the
ground.
God Providctli for the Morrow,
Take therefore no thought for the morrow;
for the morrow shall tuko thought for the
thing- of itself."?Matthew vi., 34.
Lo the liliea of the field,
How their leaves instruction yield;
Hark to nature's lesson given
liy thu blessed birds of heaven!
Kvcrv hush and tufted tree
Warbles sweet philosophy;
Mortal, llee from doubt and sorrow;
God providctli for tlio morrow!
Saj-, with richer crimson glows
The kingly mantle or the rosV/
Say, have kin^s more wholesome faro
Than we poor citizens o! air?
Barns nor hoarded g ain have we,
Yet wc carol lnetiiiy.
Mortal, (lee from d? ul?t t.nd sorrow,
God providelh for the morrow!
One there lives whose guardian eyo
Guides our humble destiny;
One there lives who, Lord of all,
Keeps our feathc.s lest they fall;
Pftss we blithely then, t'l1? ! ne,
Fearless of the snare and lia.n;
Free from .loubt und faithhss sorrowGod
provideth lor the monow!
? Hcber.
RELIGIOUS READING.
The Cross.
And now the cross of Christ is up
lifted as an ensign to the nations. No
symbol or watchword invented by
men in any part of the world awakens
such faith and hope, such joy and
peace, as the cross which id sacredly
associated with his blo*<oJ name. By
his cross is meant 110 mere material
image or hallowed sign, touched by
the hand or visible to the eye of man,
but the shame he endurv.l, the death
he died, and the doctrine of salvation
through his prr !ous bluod, his accepted
sacrifice. In the cross of Christ, so
nnilprsfoml nnd felt, all true Chris
t.ians continually glory; while they
seek and hope through him who died
on the cross to bo crucified to the
world, and to win the glorious and incorruptible
crown of eternal life. As
we gaze, then, with the enlightens!
eye of faith on him who was lilted up
from the earth on Mount Calvary, let
us feel and own the attractive power
of his cross, and be drawn unto him,
an:l joined indissolubly unto him,
along with multitudes of men over
the whole world who have felt the
preciousness and the power of his
atoning blood.?Rev. James Dodd of
Dunbar.
A People's Power Over Their Pastor*
Much has been said and written on
the power of the ministry and the responsibility
arising therefrom. Quite
as much might be said and written on
the power of the people over their
minister and the responsibility arising
therefrom. It is a moral power exerpicfd
nvpr t.hfl sniritunl exnerience of
the pastor. The earnestly tender expression
in the sixth verse of John's
third epistle where he says: "I have
no greater joy than to hear that my
children walk in truth," indicates the
existence of this power and also its
nature and mode of exercise.
It springs out of the intimate relation
which a pastor sustains to his
people. lie is their father; they are
his children. The Romish church has
eagerly seized on this Scripture truth
and magnified and perverted it. Every
priest is called father this, or
father that. Indeed, the Roman
church has one great father; the Papa
or Pope. But because Rome has perverted
a Scripture truth, we may not
therefore discard it. It is a spiritual
'-'I 1 1- -11 4-U^. nr.,J
lclUlttuiuuu; uuii an unc icunuga nuu
duties which properly belong to the
natural relation, are transferred and
adapted in thought and reality to this
spiritual relation. While the relation
which a minister sustains to all his
people is very intimato and tender,
that which he sustains to tho.se in
whose conversion he has been instrumental
is specially so. They have
seized his presentation of the gospel.
Thev have followed his guidance.
They rellect his inner life. For in
Christ Jesus he has begotten them '
through the gospel. They have therefore
a peculiar and startling power
over him. They are near to his heart,
and help or hinder his joy.
It is the gospel which has created
this relation, and which renders the
exercise of this power possible. The
pastoral relatiou which grows out of J
the scheme of redemption is incon-1
ceivable except in connection with the
scheme. Whenever the relation is
entered into on selfish principles, it is
* % ? . j. _ .1 i. T
neuner lasungnor auvautiiguuus. xudeed
whenever the relation is trunformed,
self is of necessity ruled out.
The relation originates not in natural
desire, but in divine command; not in
physical necessity, but in moral want. |
The power of a people over their
minister is exercised through their action
toward the gospel, which is re'
? ? J ? ~ -1 waaai'tta/I in ifa ctimnlinif vt
: IjUUCH fcu uc icccucu iu ilo ouiijdi^uj
;md obeyed in its purity.
A people may have power to call a
minister, and to compel his resignation;
to give and withhold his hire; but
! in this consists not their real power.
To be instrumental in deepening their
I pastor's Christian character, inenrichI
ing his Christian experience, in helpI
ing his joy, in tins consists the power
| of a people. It is quite as important
! for a minister to inquire concerning
I the spiritual life of a people who have
I called him to be their pastor, as for a
' people to inquire concerning the spirij
ttial life of a minister whom they are
i about to call. Many a young man has
j been brought into pastoral relation
i with a people who have, by their inj
difference to spiritual thing-, effectuI
ally quenched his youthful zeal for
| Christ, and brought him down to the
, low level of their own spirit|
ual life. If the churches wish to ex:
ercise a noble power over their minisI
ters, and have joyful and efficient pastors,
let them "walk in truth." Many
nowadaj's doubt the scripturcs, despise
the church and profane the Sabbath;
but let "the children" walk in
"the srood old wav."?Observer.
Tompcranco ?V'ojcs.
' A true nnd noble boyhcod "w ill make a ninnj
hood line;
: Then shun the. wicked cider, tobacco, aleaiu1.
| wine.
According to the New York Examiner,
etatislics recenUy gathered in that city
show that ninety-three per cent, of the
inmates of the House of Industry were
sent there for crimes resulting from the
use of liquor; also that of the 8,000 liquor
sellers of the city. (>,43S have been
confined in jail or prison. And yet they
are certified to be reputable citizens
when licensed.
' TEMPERANCE DEPARTMENT.
I Wish Ton a ITTerry Christmas.
I wish you a merry Christmas,
My brother temperance mon,
Who every day are strivinc
Intemperance tide to stem.
We've spent a happy Christmas
Without strong drink before;
And this year, without the monster,
We hope to spend one more.
I wish you a merry Christmas,
Dear readers, one and all,
And this can be obtained, we know,
Without King Alcohol;
For he doth cause continually
Distress and many a sorrow,
Make wounds upon a Christmas day
And headaches on the morrow.
I wish you a merry Christmas,
But :midst our joys let's think
How many hearts are desolate
THrougn uiai accurseu anun.
I wish you a merry Christmas,
And friends around shall see,
Without the fiery water,
How happy we can be.
I wish a merry Christmas
To every child and man,
Indeed, to every woman, too,
Who practices our plan.
In such a godly warfare
Right onward let us steer;
So 1 wish you a merry Christmas
And a happy cominjj year.
?Rev. W. E. Churchill, in Temperance
Banner.
Why Canon Farrar Became a Total
Abstainer.
Canon Farrar, in a speech made by him
at the recent reception given in his
honor in New York city by the National
Temperance society and the Church
Temperance socicty, said:
? ? T *?nf
"About ten years ago or mum x mow
became a total abstainer because I was
easily convinced that the use of alcohol
was not a necessity, and a great deal
turns upon that. I saw, for instance,
that whole nations had not only lived
without it, but had flourished without
it. I believe that the human racc had
existed and had flourished a considerable
time beforo it was discovered. I
3aw the remarkable fact that there were
some twenty thousand persons in England,
and that though many of them
had made themselves mere funnels for
drink; though they had been accustomed
to drink from their childhood; though
most of them had been brought to
prison, either directly or indirectly,
through drink, yet the very day that
they entered the gatss of the prison all
drink was entirely taken from them, and
yet there was not a single instance on
record in which any one of them had
suffered in consequence. On the contrary,
men who have entered the prisons
sickly and blighted, have been made
compulsorily sober by an act of parlia
{, ?? frtTtr mnntln lpffc nrison
LLKJLIL, auci a ju 11 >uv>u...v .... f
hale and strong and hearty; and women
who had been put into prison perfectly
horrible and hideous in their loathsomeness
and degradation, after a short
period of deprivation from the source of
their ruin left prison with the bloom o^
health and almost of beauty.
"Then, again, I saw in the carefullyprcparcd
statistics of insurance societies
that total abstinence, as an indisputable
fact, contributes to longevity. Then I
saw that, so far from alcohol being a
necessity for great feats of strength,
many of the greatest athletes in the
world, from Samson downward, whose
drink was only the crystal brook, had
achieved without alcohol feats far more
- - . . _ u :ui?
mighty that tney couju puasiuij
achieved with it; and, as far as intellectual
exertions are concerned, great
writers, though they have not always said
with Pindar that water ia best, have yet
constantly drawn from temperance a far
better inspiration than they could possibly
have produced chemically from the
fumes of wine. Then I found that a
great number of our most eminent physicians
had declared most positively that
in hundreds and thousands of cases alcohol
was the prolific source of disease,
even those who took it in quantities conventionally
deemed moderate; and, on
the other hand, that other physicians
who were opposed to total abstinence as
a general rule still confessed that the
young and the healthy, all who eat well
and all who sleep well, can do without
it and are better without it.
"All these proofs and many others
convinced me very speedily that it was
not necessary for me to continue to touch
any form of alcohol; and I gave it up
the more readily because I bslieve that
the abandonment of it was one element
in that very needful simplification of life
which gets rid of all artificial wants and
which is peculiar^ desirable in an age of
luxury like this.1'
A Good L'usinevs to Ar a?don>
An East Douglass, Ma<-s., licensed
liquor dealer issues a business card with
the following unusual notice printed
thereon: "To whom it may coucern.
Know ye, that by the payment of $225 I
am permitted to retail intoxicating
liquors at my saloon in this town. To
the wife who has a drunkard for a husband,
or a friend who is unfortunately
dissipated. I say emphatically, give me
notice in person of such a case, or eases,
in which you are interested, aud all
such shall be excluded from my place.
Let mothers, fathers, sister*, an 1 brothr1r>
.md tlw?ir rpnnesfc will be
J * kindly
regarded. I pay a heavy lax foi
the privilege of selling liquors, and 1
want it distinctly understood that I have
no desire to sell to drunkards, or minors,
or to the poor or destitute." This it
good as far as it goes, but it by no means
relieves the kindly disposed liquoi
dealer of his gravest responsibility. Tc
pay his license fee. and make a profit
from his business, he will sell liquor tc
those who are not now hopeless drunk
ards, whom, when notified, lie will ex
elude from his saloon, but who are, ai
his patrons, forming the drink habit,
and steadily coming under the driufc
bondage. Ilis is the preliminary stasri
of liquor selling, devastation, and ruin.
It is a good business for a kindly dis
posed person to abandon, altogether.?
Natioual Temperance Advocate.
The Young "Woman's Christian Temperance
Union of Minneapolis maintained
four charity schools, four kitchen garden
schools, a flower mission, and a
boys' whistliDj: school.
I BASKETRT.
The Art of UfaUinc' Baskets by Indian
Tribes.
The Encyclopaedia JJritannica, which
is the only one having anything particular
to say about basketry, begins its
article by this remark: "The process of
interweaving twigs, reeds, and leaves is
practiced among the rudest nations of
the world; and it is one of the most
universal of ar.s, so also does it rank
among the most ancient industries, being
probably the origin of all the textile
arts of the world, for basket-work is
literally a web of the coarsest materials."
The article then summarizes the practice
of the art in classic antiquity,and sneaks
of houses, boats, shields, window-screens,
furniture, carriage bodies, and other extraordinary
articles as made of basketw/Nflr
nnniunf Ar m/\f1/?rr? fimnQ flip
materials for which (osier?, etc.), form
an important element in the agriculture
of many countries.
There remains unnoticed, however, a
large department of oa3ket making lore
in the work of barbarous peoples, to
whom this art serves manifold purposes,
and has sometimes reached great perfection,
as can be seen by an examination
of the very large and complete collection
of basketry brought together in the
National museum at Washington.
A study of this series of specimens
shows that some of the best makers are
to be found among our North American
Indians, the most skillful of whom are
those dwelling on the northwestern
coast.
The Makahs, for example, who live on
Cape Flattery, at the entrance to the
Strait of Fuca, turn out a wide variety,
adapted to many purposes. The largest,
which will hold a bushel ar so, are made
of spruce roots, or of cedar twigs, woven
quite loosely, and much lar?er at the top
than at the wedge like bot\om?a form
assumed in order to facilitate carrying in
them a load held well up on the shoulders
by a strap passing across the forehead.
Small baskets ?re made of bark
and grass, dyed with native vegetable
extracts, or, more latel}', with glaring
aniline colors, which never equal the
artistic excellence of the older work.
Into some are woven designs intended to
represent birds or animals; into others,
eimnid r>hppifs Small ones are made of
"""r'v -
bark, and of a species of eel-grass that
bleaches brightly white. The miking
of mats ot rushes and shredded cedar
bark (ont of which, also, are knit handsome
water proof cloaks, no.v growing
very rare and costly) forms a large part
of the winter work of the squaws. The
queer conical hats of the women,
upon which they gaudily paint their
family to'ems, arc made of spruce
roots splic into fine fibres,
and so plaited as to be impervious to
the ra:n. None are twilled. Within a
few years these Indians have found it
profitable to cover with basket-work
bottles and flasks for the toilet-table or
the pocket, finding good sale for the\n
at Victoria and the other tourist-visited
towns of that region. Fancy boxes, circular,
square and oddly-shaped, are also
made for sale, and are extremely pretty
and durable.
The native races of Oregon and California
appear to have been almost equally
expert basket-makers, though their
productions are decidedly unlike those
of the British Columbian and Alaskan
people just noticed.
From willow twi<r3 and pine roots
thoy weave large round mats for holding
acorn flour: various-si/ed, iiattish,
squash shaped baskets,water-tight: deep
conical ones to be carried on their
backs; and others to be ued at pleasure
as drinking-cups or sku'?-l caps by the
squaws, the men going bareheaded.
The Yurok of Northern California* are
among the cleverest workmen. They
ornament their Laskcls with some ingenuity
by weaving in black rootlets or
bnrk in squares, diamonds and zigzag
lines, but they never attempt the curve,
which, it has been said, marks the transition
from barbaric to civilized art. "In
carrying her baby," writes Stephen
Powers, "or a qantity of acorns, the
squaw fills the deep conical
basket, and suspends it on
her back by a strap which passes
loosely round it and athwart her forehead.
She leans forward, and so
relieves her neck."
The baby, whenever carried, is loose
in the basket and liable to fallout. This
carelessness among the coast tribes is
greatly in contrast with the sentiment
of the Modoc women around Klamath
Lake, who, with conspicuous painsI
wrnim o rrfirv nrpt.tv trouah
laftIUS, "VW.W v. . w._, I J 0shaped
baby-basket of fine willows, intended
to be set up against the wall or
to be carried on the back. The infant
i* lashed perpendicularly in it, and his
head covered by the concave upper end
of the basket, which overhangs like a
small parasol, and in some cases is gayly
decorated. "J.et a mother blacken her
j whole face below the eyes, including
her nose, shining black, thrust a goosequill
three inches long through the
septum of her nose, don her close-fitiing
skull-cap, and start to town with hor
baby basket lashed to her Inck, and she
feels the pride of maternity strong
within her. The 1 ittlo fellow is wrapped
all around like a mummy, with
nothing visible but his head, and someit
_ i _ i. ?
times that is Danaagea uaciv ugu^, su
that he may sleep standing."
The Pah-Utes nf the Uiah and Xevada
dry lands likewise make great use of
basketry. 3rajor Powell describes, in
his animated way, the service of the
conical baskets to be seen in the collection
from that locality: "The women
carry them on their backs, suspended
from their foreheads by broad straps,
and with a smaller one in the left hand
and a willow woven fan in the right,
they walk amon? the grasses "and
sweep the seed into the smaller basket,
which is emptied now and ihen into the
larger, until it is full of seeds and chatf;
then they winnow out the chad and roast
the seeds. They roast these curiously:
they put the seeds, with a quanity of
red hot coals, into a willow tray, and by
rapidly and dexterously shaking and
tossing them, keep the coals aglow and
the seeds and tray from burning."
Everywhere from the southern Rockies
to the Pacific, occur the jars and bowls
of varied shape made of willow tightly
woven and pitched so as to be water
- - ? *- -_i~ ??
tight Tiiese are not omy iiwuiuuic ua
canteens, but cooking is done in man}'
of them. Regular baskets are elsewhere
used as cooking utensils, water being
boiled in them by the immersion of
heated stones, [or by being held over a
fire out ot reach of the blaze. The
jMicmacs of Nova Scotia made kettles of
birch bark, and the Kutchin tribes of the
Mclvenzie river, out of tamarack roots,
ornnmentcd with porcupine quills. A
basket of exceedingly close weaving from
British Guinua is so set in a frame-work
as to serve the purpose of a dish; but all
the savages along the Orinoco and Amazon
make water-tight baskets. Some
similar jar?, once belonging to Apache
(Arizona) families will hold tenor fifteen
gallons of water, and were buried in the
ground. The baskets of the Zunis and
Moquis are rude bent-twig affairs, as
might be expected of so good potters as
they.
The close resemblance between the
native American basketry and that of
foreign lands (except in the prevalence
of bamboo as a mateaiul abroad) will
excite remark; and the practice of carrying
basket panniers over the forehead,
and of making water-tight jars and even
boats of wicker-work, can be traced ail
round the globe. Thus it is stated in
Marsden's History of Sumatra that the
number of baskets seen hanging in a
native's house is a token of the owner's
wealth; for in them his harvests of'rice
and pepper are gathered and brought
home. ''They are made of slips of bamboo
connected by means of split rattans;
and are cariied. chiefly by the women,
on the back, supported by a string or
band across the forehead."?Harper's
Bazar.
HOTEL ROBBERIES
Cncsu Who Are Often Plundered by
Tlicms elves.
"There are lots of these so-called
hotel robberies, and I've kept house long
enough to size them up for about their
value," remarked the proprietor of the
American house the other evening to a
reporter of the Denver Republican ; "and
tnat anair at tne Aioany is one 01 mem.
Not only I, but any other hotelkceper,
can relate any number of instances where
people have lost their money of an evening
at gaming or had their pockets picked
when 'full,' or returned to their rooms in
a 'happy condition, to hide .their valuables
in the mattresses, under the carpet,
or some other place, tumble into bed,
forget all about it, and then go down to
the hotel office in the morning to swear
they have been robbed. But they don't
fool me, not much. A man put up in
this house during the Grand army meeting
who came in one night somewhat
mellowed, and, thinking to put his purse
in a safe place, cut a slit in his cot mattress
and shoved it in there. Well, in
the morniug he came down to the office
with a face as long as Jack's historic
beanstalk, ana with the doleful story of
his being robbed. He had put h:s purse,
he said, containing his return ticket and
what money he possessed, under hi* pillow
when he retired, and now he could
not lind it anywhere. He thought I
ought to make it up to him, and linally
wanted to borrow enough money to get
home. I knew well enongh that he
hadn't been robbed in the hotel, though
he might have lost his money truly
enough; and under the circumstances I
let his hotel bill slide. The fellow finally
raised enough money to get home on.
Well, sir, in two months, when the cots
were being put up for the winter, the
chambermaid happened to tip the particular
cot this fellow had slept on, and
the purse fell out through, the slit in the
mattress on to the floor. And there it
was, just a3 he had left it, railroad tick.
et, money and all. If the cot had been
* - ? i J
tipped the other way, tne purse wouia
have gone further in, where ifc would
have remained iiko enough till the mattress
was worn out. I sent the man his
purse, aud he was grateful enough to get
it back.
"A guest came in one night pretty
full, but had sense enough to hand over
his money to be put in the hotel safe.
Then he tumbled up-stairs and into
bed as best he could. In the morning
ho ;ame down-stairs just roaring mad
and swearing he had been robbed, and
demandod restitution. He acted so
that I thought I'd let him sweat awhile,
lie kept on threatening to advertise the
house from A to Z, and would warn all
his friends to steer clear of the place,
i Well, he rammed around f:>r two or
three days, until 1 got tired of his noise,
and then called a number of the guests
. * ./Minri tn cno fViB fun Tn the evenini?.
j C* UliUVl IV tfw KMV ^ (
as soon as be had come in, I beckoned
to him to come up to the counter, and,
taking his package from the safe, told
him I was the thief and here was the
'stuff.' When he saw the money he took
the whole thing iu, and a more sheepish,
foolish, crestfallen man you never saw.
lie reached out his hand for the package.
'No you don't,' says I; 'you are
the man who was going to advertise my
house from A to Z, were you, as a good
place for travelers to get robbed? Now
that you have had so much to say I want
some apology.' Well, he did apologize,
and more; he would advertise the house
> as the best hotel in the country, while
the guests thronged round tD enjoy the
scene. Finally I gave him his money,
and he went away one of the most
pleased men I ever saw.
4 "A guest at the St. James, in a fit of
absent-mindedness not long ago, put a
roll of bills amounting to $70 iu his
sock before he went to bed, and in the
i morning he sent the sock off with other
| soiled clothes to be washed. Then he
' wendeied where his money had gone.
Fortunately for him the Chinamen was
- ?? n f- flifl
Honest, or was iuu uuuij auaicu ?*? vuv
1 thought that the money might be traced
I to him and he sent to jail, so he brought
it back, to the owner's joy."
___
j Dramatic Scene at a Murder Trial.
I Some months ago Newton Chance, an
aged itinerant preacher from the Indian
Territory, was arrested at Sherman,
j Texas, charged with the murder of E.
I Junius Foster in that city in 1863. Foster
! was editor of a newspaper. The killing
j caused intense excitement throughout
i the State. At the trial of Chance a sen!
sation was produced in court by tho
' voluntary testimony of James Yc'Jing,
j who swore that it was he who killed
I Foster.
"I killed him." said Young, because
he published in his paper the lying assertion
that the murder of my father was
j the best thing that ever happeued to
; northern Texas.
j The State attorney, to rebut this coni
fession, produced an old affidavit signed
i by James Young, wherein he swore
j he was 100 yards from the spot
when Foster was shot, and did not know
who fired the bullet. The jury rendered
j a verdict of "not guility," and the aged
prisoner, Chance, was released in the
midst of demonstrations of great joy.
I The old preacher wept like a child as
! the people crowded around him. He
1 stood trial fur his life twenty-two years
j after the crime with which he was
charged was committed.
How Dead Ilorscs Were Utilized.
i Among other contractors of high and
| low degree at or about Washington dur;
ing the war was one who had purchased,
| as the highest bidder, the dead horses of
I the army of the Potomac, for which he
! paid .$1.70 each, delivered at his 4kestabj
iishment." They averaged, in the
: winter, fifty a day, and were thus disposed
' " ?i. -flp'ii
of: First, the shoes were puiieci on; men
the hoofs were cut oil; then
i the manes and tails were sheared. The
| animal was then skinned,the carcass was
: boiled that the tallow might be ex!
tracted, the best of the bones were sold
; for knife handles, and the remainder to
I be ground for fertilizers. The total re'
suit was th.it these different parts of the
j dead nag were worth, when prepared
for market, at least $25 a head, and the
profits of the contractor were consequently
very large.?Ben: Pcrley Poore.
Sixty million people speak the German
language, 43,000,000 the French and
! 100,000,000 the English.
* ' . " : -.'-rS*
; \ . ' ; * '. ^
^ ^
BUILDING UPON THE 8AND.
' -T&
'Tis -well to woo, 'tis well to wed,
For so the world has done
Since myrtles'grew, and roses blew,
And morning brought the sun. : ,
But have a care, ye young and fair,
Be sure ye pledge with truth;
Be certain that your love will wear
Beyond the days of youth.
For if ye give not heart for heart,
As well as hand for band,
You'll find you've played the "unwise part>$
And "built upon the sand."
'Tis WaII fcn mva 'Ho wall f/> >1 flVA
A goodly store of gold,
And hold enough of sterling stuff?
For charity is cold.
But place not all your hopes and trust!
In what the de?p mine brings,
We cannot live on yellow dust
Unmixed with purer things.
And ho who piles up wealth alone
Will often have to stand
Beside his coffer-chest, and own
'Tis 1 'built upon the sand." ?
'Tis good to speak in kindly guise,
And soothe wbate'er we can;
For speech would bind the human mind,
And love link man to man.
But stay not at the gentle worda,
Let deeds with language dwell;
riio one who pities starving birds
Should ssatter crumbs as welL ',
The mercy that is warm and true
Must lend a helping hand;
For those who talk, yet fail to do,
But ''build upon the sand."
?Eliza Cook.
['-jH
PUNGENT I'AllAf RAPHS. J
Bogus butter?A goat without horos.
?Roc/ievtcr Post.
A vested interest?a waistcoat in
pawn.?Boston Globe.
A well preserved mnn is not neces- *./;
sarily always in pickle.
If you cannot lick a man be lenient
with his faults.?Picayune..
Even a rich man occasionally borrows
trouble, although there is no reason why
he should. ? Gall.
Shakespeare was mistaken when he
said that a rose by any other name would
smell as wheat.?Hatchet.
A shoemaker may be poor all his life,
but if he will work he is sure to make
money at la3t.?Newman Independent.
Call & "Welcome is the name of a S,
Western firm. They believe in the value
of advertising.?Burlington Fret Press.
The cannibals have an easier time of
it than the man who eats shad. There
are only 240 bones in the human body.
?Boston Post.
"Plenty of room at the top," remarked
a dealer as he opened an apple
barrel and fouud it only half full.?
Danville Breeze.
Farmers, to make money, should raise
nirornthinn JlflTT Kllf. f Vl OTf
Uf Wl jmiug bUVJ VVUUUUAVJ WWV VUWJ
should not consume everything they
raise. ?Picayune.
A Californian has discovered that no
man can keep over 5,000 hens with any
profit to himself. If you have a hen too
many eat her.?Detroit Free Press.
A Chinaman has just published a
book, in which he says, "Woman doea
not require study to make herself perfect;
she is born perfect."?Pittsburg
Telegraph.
A new comedy is called "The Girl
with a Tin Heart." Nearly all the girls
have a tin heart when a young man
comes around with a soft solder.?Louisville
Courier-Journal.
"Feed cabbage after milking," advises
a farmers' paper. This is good aa
far as it goes; but" what we want to
know is what a man should feed to his
cabbages after he milks them??Puck.
King Humbert's face is said to wear
an habitually sad expression which puzzles
his friends. Perhaps his majesty's
liver is out of order. \Ve merely offer
this as a suggestion.?New York Graphic.
It now turns out that the flute was invented
by Lydians about 1,200 years b.c.
This is too long to hold resentment, and
we shall accordingly draw the slugs
from our horse-pistol.? Yonkers Gazette.
An exchange says: "What are saucers
made of?" That depends upon circumstances.
If you break one you will find
it is made of very thin china, but if you
try to buy one to replace it, you will
find it is made of solid gold.?New Yorh
Graphic.
Some appreciative person has presented
President Cleveland with a photograph
of Tom Moore's harp. The inmates
of the White House should rejoice
that the present was not the harp
itself. The President can't play on the
photograph. ?NorrUtown Herald.
It makes the averago woman shout
And dance and jump and shriek,
When she finds the note
In her husband's coat
That she gave him to post, and he carried
it about
In his pocket for more than a week.
?Puck.
""Who is that old duffer?1'asked a
new groceryman of the milkman, as a
???> n n TT/in b }\XT Via
WCU'UIVSICU UIUU nvut uj. TI , _v
is one of our most trusted citizens," was
the eloquent reply. "How do you make
that out? "He has been owing me a bill
ever since I came here." "That's just how
we made it out," laughed the milkman
gleefully, and the groceryman scratched
his head till he caught on.?MerchantTraveler.
A pompous fellow was dining with a
country family, when the lady of the
house desired the servant to take away
the dish containing the fowl, which
word she pronounced fool, as is not uncommon
to Scotland. "I presume,
madam, you mean the fowl," said the
prig, in a reproving tone. "Very, well,"
said the lady, a little nettled, "be it so.
Take away the fowl and let the fool remain."?Public
Opinion.
Hunting a Deer with a Steamboat.
While the steamer Everglade was
onmincr down the river at Beresford. a
^ o ?
big buck was seen half a mile ahead,
swimming across the St. John's river,
j The crew and all on board were anxious
for a chase, and the steamer shot forth
toward the fleeing animal, which was
j paddling for dear life. After uearing
the deer, its turning and dodging proved
! a little too much for the big steamer, so
| a small boat v/as lowered, with Mate
l Peters in charge and two deck hands at
! the oars. They gave chase, and the first
j effort of the mate to capture the wild
: animal resulted in his tumbling headlong
! into the river. The object of the chase
i was not lost sight of, however, by this
! premature baptism of the mate. Tho
bucfc was seized by the tail, but he soon
broke the hold, and, amid the whoop3
and shouts of those on the steamer, the
i fight continued unabated between tho
j oarsmen and the buck, while the mate
! fought the waves, which were tossing
j him to and fro. Finally, after the men
! and deer were about fagged out, a well1
directed blow on tho buck's nose conj
qucred lrim, and he was brought on
! board a victim.?Florida Herald.