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,J- Jj^ IV. The Unchanging On^; "Change not, change not to me, my God; I would that thou shouldst be To farthest worlds what thou hast been On this sad earth to me. Though thou hast baffied sore my life ^Though thy swift scour^inj* rod jLLtttu icau ma bpinirsuarreu, x uij , Change not to me, my God! *''Change not me, in those far worlds. Where all are strange and new; "Where can my stranger-spirit rest If thou art changed too? As turns the child from alien-crowd To the one-kindred face, "To find that mother-eyes make home In unfamiliar place,? "So, trembling must I turn to thee, The God whom I have known, The God who, in this lonely workl, Hath never left mo lone. Do with me, Lord, whate'er thou wilt, So only thou wilt be, Pbrever, and forevermore, What thou hast been to me." RELIGIOUS READING. What are You Doing. f Do you ever tell what the Lord has done for your soul? How does the world know you are a Christian? Do you ever A r\ni^Annl n?\r?nnl 4-r\ n n iinnATI. tuoav tk puiounai aj;|;uoi iv uu auv/vu erted soul? Do your religious engagements take precedence over all others? Have you tried to induce any one to attend church? Have you welcomed any stranger in church? I)o you visit the poor, the sick, and strangers? Have you sought to know our new members? Do you "go into all the world and preach the Gospel" by giving as the Lord has , -prospered you? Ls secret prayer your i daily habit? Are you informed concerning the spread of the gospel? Do you take a religious paper? Are you an advocate of gospel temperance principles? T\a vaii rkkynvtrn fumiltr uTircllin2 Tin rrtll .V- *?WU.J ? - J " I ever hand any person a good book or tract? Do you contribute your part of j the current expenses of the church? Are j any of the ways of working and witness- ' ingfor Christ your ways??Dr. George L. Spining. Spring work. But we hare no reference to ploughing and harrowing and seeding the ground. We want to say a few words about another kind of husbandry. In all farming communities the winter is the time of comparative leisure. We do not mean, of course, that the wise and -diligent farmer does not find a good deal to occupy his time during the winter months. But there is not that pressure upon him that comes when the seed is to J>e sown and the growing crop culti- j vafced. Hence it is true that he has more f time for any claims outside his farm j while the weather precludes the work of j tillage. In point of fact, therefore, it comc3 ! about that there is more religious ac- I Jivity in the churches during the winter Jhan at other seasons of the year. The past winter has brought us the record of Unusual activity during tne inontns just ended, and the fruitage has been large j ?nd gratifying. Now the question is, | shall this work come to an abrupt end as the voice of spring is heard calling the farmer forth to the fields? Is there any good reason why this should be the case? jVe know the strength of the temptation; fcut it is a temptation of the Evil One, tad it ought to be resisted. Yet let us not be misunderstood. Our religion is one of "sweet re:isonable?ess." God does not ask impossibilities pf us. It is true, of course, that when j the season calls the farmer to work in ' the fields he will not have the same j amount of spare time that he had when those fields were held fast in the fetters ; of the frost. There cannot be the same j number of public religious services; there caunot be the sarue amount of out ward activity. The danger, however, does not come in intermitting these. But there Ls danger that the claims of the regular church services, both on the Sabbath and during the week, shall be more or less neglected. Religion is not a matter of times and seasons. If it is not good for the whole year it is not good for any part of the year. If religion is to flourish it must be regularly nurtured. No one can afford to neglect the stated "means of grace." And yet it is just here that the temptation comes. Because extra services which may have been held are distpontinued, and because work presses, fiot a few come to feel that they may intermit attendance upon the stated services which feed the life of the church for the whole year. TOY<I?<A ic or\mn ^cr\p!nrr it'Avlr" f i iicju tutu 10 ovmo opiui^ ??v/i a tuat claims attention. Your interest in religious things has been quickened during ft season of greater church activity which the winter's leisure favored. Now are you ready to surrender that intrest because farm-work now makes pressing Claims? You can arrange, if y u will, for attendance, in all ordinary cases, Upon the weekly service of prayer, as jrell as upon the Sabbath services. You ne<>d these means of grace for your own good. And the church needs your nrMnnm> anfl vinir rn.nnornfInn Til itc services you not only receive good, but do good. Here then is work to be planned for just as carefully as you plan the kinds of crop to which you will devote your respective fields. Here is work io be undertaken as diligently as you plough and plant. But with these public services your 'spring work" is not ended. You have jrcork to do in your heart and by your personal influence. See to it, we beg of you, that any newly-awakened or newlyinercased interest in religious things does not decline. Do not let the cares of this qworld choke the word of life. But rather be on your guard against the temptations that in this particular direction beset you. Your heart is as mnch worth cul.tivating asyonr wheat field, and that cultivation ought to go on in the * spring as i- 4.V. :..i mucii w "J me winter. ! Nor are you to be any the less truly a worker in the Master's vineyard now than tin the mouths that are just gone. You ,can use personal influence for Christ in one month as well as in another. The soldier of Christ is never "off duty." ' Think, friends, of the abundance of Spring work" there is for you to do? and do it. And may the great Husbandman send you an abundant harvest!? American Messenger. There are now about 250,000 Creoles in Louisiana, principally resident in the city of New Orleans and the southwestern parishes. TT. . _ * T? 1* A "writer in nyy ienv rruuyue status jkhat boots and shoes may be rendered Waterproof by soaking them for some flours in thick soap water. The compound forms a fatty acid within the leather and makes it impervious to .water. r 'Does your w?fe talk in her sleep ?" asked one married man of another, one day when they were comparing notes. ur j?>i. ? fv,a X UUJU U lit? ttVTttaD IAS OCUj ? D VU9 heartless husband, "but she talks all the rest of the time, so I rather guess she does,n?Louisville Journal. S I T1LIAGES SEBION MARTYRS OF THE KITCHEN. TI19 thirteanth sermon of tho Rev. Dr. Talmage's series on the "Marriage Ring," preache.1 in the Brooklyn Tabernacle, related to "Martyrs of the Kitchen," and was delivered from the following text: "Lord, dost Thou not care that my sister hath left me to sarve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me."?Sfc. Luke x., 40. The min ster said: Yonder is a beautiful village homestead. The man of the house is dead aud his widow has charge of the premises. It is the widow Martha of Bethany. Yes, I will show you also the pat of the household. It is Mary, the younger sister, with a book under her arm and in her face no sign of care or anxiety about anything. Company has come. Christ appearing at the outside of the door makes some excitement inside the door. The sisters set back the disarranged furniture and push back the hair, and in a flash prepare to open the door. They do uot keep Christ wai:ing outside until thay have 1.. ^ V-1 /""? t"VA n/\ 1 tr/"v -? .r rt ~ Lie v> xy appaicioi. luoiusoi v oo. \ji wauviawu oiranged their tresses, and then with affected surprise come out, and pretend not to have heard the two or three previous knockings, say: "Why, is that you?" NO, they wore ladies, and always presentable, although perhaps they had not on their best. None of us always have on our best; otherwise very soon our best would not be worth having on. Thoy throw open the door and greet Christ. They say: "Gool morning, Master, come in. and be seated." Christ brought a company of friends with Him, and the influx of so many city visitors, you do not wonder, threw the country home into some perturbation. I suppose the walk from the city had been a keen appetizer. The kitchen department that day was a very important department, and I think as soon as Martha had Greeted her guests she went to that rom Mary had no anxiety about the dinner. She had full confidence that her sister Martna could get up the bf st dinner in Bethany, and she practically said: "Now let us have a division of labor. Martha you cook and I'll set down and be good I" The same difference you now sometimes see between Bisters. There is Martha, industrious, painstaking, a good manager, ever inventive of some new pastry, discovering something in cookery or household affairs. Here is Mary, fond of conversation, literary, so full of questions of ethics sh9 "has no time to discuss questions of household welfare. It is noon. Mary is in the parlor. Martha is in the kitchen. It woula have been better for t'uem to have divided the toil and then they could have divided the opportunity of listening to Unrist. uut JHary monopolizes Lnrist wrnie Martha swelters before thj fire. It was very important that they have a good dinnor that day, for Christ was hungry and he did not often have luxurious entertainment. Alas! me. If all the responsibility of that entertainment had rested with Mary, what a repast they would have had. But something went wrong in the kitchen. Either the fire would not burn, or the bread would not ba':e, or something was burned black that ought to have been only turned brown, or Martha scalded herself, and forgetting all the proprieties of the occasion, with besweated brow she lushed out of the kitchen iuto the parlor, perhaps with tongs in one hand and pitcher m the other, and she cried out, "Lord, dost thou not care that my sister has left me to servo alone? Bid her, therefore, that she help me." Christ scolded not a word. If it was scolding I would rather have Him scold me than anybody else bless me. There was nothing acerb in the Savior's reply. He knew that Martha had been working herself to death to get Him something to eat,and He appreciated her kindness, and He practically said; "my dear woman, don't worry, let the dinner go, sit down here on thus ottoman beside your younger sister Mary, let us talk about something else. Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things, but on? thing is needful." As Martha throws open the door I look in to-day and I sec a great many household anxieties, perplexities, fatigues and trials, and about them I am going to speak if the Lord of Mary and Martha and Lazarus will help mo by His grace. As I look into that door, in the first place, I see the trial of non-ann:e iation. That was what made Marfeha so mad at Mary. Mary, the younger sister, had 110 proper estimate of the older sister's fatigue. Just as now men having annoyances of store and factory and shop, or at the stock exchange, come home at night and hear of some household annoyance and they sav: "Oh, that's nothing :"you ought to be in tho factory a day and have ten, cr fifteen, or twenty, or a hundred subordinates, then you would know something about annoyance and trouble." Oh, man, let me tell you that a wife and a mother has to conduct at the same time a university, a clothing establishment, a restaurant, a laundry, a library, and has to be health officer, police and president of the whole realm. Shenas to do a thousand things, and to do them well in order to make things go smoothly, and that is what puts the awful tax on a woman's nerve3 and a woman's brain. I know there are exceptions to thr> rule. Sometimes you will find a woman who can sit in the armchair of the library all day without any anxiety, or tarry on the belated pillow, anl all the" cares of the household are thrown upon servants who have large wages and freat experience; 1 ut that is the exception, speak of tho great masses of housekeepers to whom life is a struggle, and who, at thirty years of age, look as though they were forty; and who, at fcrty, look as though they were fifty; and who, at fifty, look as though they were sixty. The fallen at Chalons and Austerlitz and Gettysburg and Waterloo are a small number in comparison with those who have goue down under the martyrdom of the kitchen. Go out to the cemetery and look over the epitaphs on the tombstones; they are all bsautiful and poetic, but if the tombstones could tell the truth, thousands of them would say: "Here lies a woman who was killed by too much mending and sowing and baking and scouring and scrubbing," and tha weapon with which she was killed was a broom or a sewing-machine or a ladle. The housewife rises in the morning half rested. At an irrevocable hour she must have the morning repast ready. What if the fire will not burn? what if the clock stop? what if the marketing has not been sent in? No matter that, it must be ready at the irrevocable hour. Then the children must be got ready for school. But what if the garments be torn? What if they do not kuow their lessons? What if the hat or sash is lost! They must be ready. Then you have tha diet of a day, or perhaps several days, to plau out. But what if the butcher sends meat unmasticable? What if the grocer furnish03 you articles of food adulterated? What if the Eiece of silver be lost, or a favorite chalice l>e roken, or the roof leak, or the plumbing fail, or any one of a thousand things occurs? No matter. Everything must be ready. The spring is coming and there must be a revolution iu the family wardrobe, or the autumn is at hand and you must shut out the northern blast, but how if the m othhas preceded you to the chest? How if the garments of the last year do not fit the children now? What if all the fashions have cuangeu! The hous3 must be an extemporized apothecary shop or dispensary, thore must bo relief for all styles of ailments, something to loosen the croup, something to cool the bum, something to poultice tne inflammation, something to silence the jumping tooth, something to soothe the earache. Uh, inuu of business, if you had as many cares as that you would be a fit candidate for Bloomingdale Insane asylum. If Martha make under such circumstances an impatient rush on tha library or the drawing-room, be patient, be lenient. Oh, my sister! though my words may not arouse in many souls any appreciation of your toil, let me assure ycu from the kindliness with which Jesus Christ met Mar tha that He appreciates all your tria s from garret to cellar, and the God of Deborah and Miriam and Abigail md Grandmother Louis and Elizabeth Fry a ill Hannah More is the God of the housekeeper. Christ never marriei that he might bo thi especial friend and confidant of a whole world of troubled womanhood. I blundered. Christ was married. The Bible says the church is the Lamb's wife, and that makes me know that a woman has a right to go to Christ with all her annoyances and perplexities and fatigues, for by*His oath of conjugal fidelity He hath sworn to sympathize. George Herbert put the thought in three or four verses,quaint and peculiar, but strong, in one versa sairinic: "The servant by this clause makes drudgery divine, "Who sweeps a room as for thy laws makes this and the action fine." A young woman of brilliant education and prosperous surroundings was called downstairs 10 heip in iha absence of the servant. 1 and there was a ring at the bell.and she went to the door and a gentleman friend entered. He said: "I thought I heard music in this house; was it on tnis piano, or on this harp {" She said: ''Ne.ther; it was a fryingpan accompaniment to'a gridiron 1 In other words, I was called do wnstairs to help. I suppose sometime i s>hall have to learn, and i. nave begun now." When will tho world learn that every kind of work that is right is honorable? a ^a j t i _ t Ab imu tun up jus urns uoor l juuk. iu auu i also see the trial of severe economy. Nine hundred and ninety-niue households out of a thousand are subjected to it either under greater or less strosi of circumstances. It is sspecially so when a wan smokes expensive cigars and dines at costly restaurants. He will be very apt to enjoin severe economy at home. Tliat is what kills thousands of women, the attempt to make five dollars do the work of seven, . It is amaziug how some men dole out money to the household. If you have not got the money say so. If you have, be cheerful in the expenditure. Tour wife be reasonable. "How long does thei honeymoon last.'" said a young woman about to enter the married state, to her mother. The mother answered: "Thehoneymoon lasts until you ask your husband for money!" "How much do you want?" "A dollar." "A dollar! Can't you get along with fifty cents? You are always wanting a dollar 1" This thirty years' war against high prices, this everlasting attempt to bring the outgo within the income has exhausted multitudes of housekeepers. Let me say to such, it is a part of the Divine disciEline. If it were best for you all you would ave to do would be just to open the front windows and the ravens would fly in with food, and after you had baked fifty times from the barrel in the pantry, like the barrel of Zarephath, the barrel would be tall, and the children's shoes would last as long as the shoes of the Israelites in the wilderness, forty years. Oh, my friends, all tbese trials and fatigues of home life are to prepare you for heaven, for they will make that the brighter in the contrast. A dying soldier was asked by a friend, "Have you any message to s:nd to your father :'Yes," said he; "tell him I have gone home." "Well," said the friend, "have you any message to send to your wife?" "Yes; tell her I L r> ?r/% ViAtYtA 1) ' 'VaII Vl O TTA AfltAK I UvVYC gVUO UULUOt JL VU T V VkUUl II lOUUO, would you like to send a message to them?" "Yes; give them the same message; they will all understand it. Tell thom I have gone home." And that heavenly homo will compensate, will fully atone for all the hardships and the trials and the annoyances and the vexations of the earthly home. In that land they never huuger, ana consequently there will be no nuisance of catering for appetites. In that land of the white-robed vhey have no mending to do and the air of that hilly country makes them all well. No rent to pay there; every man owns his own house, ana a mansion at that. It will not be so great a change to step into the chariot . of the skies if on earth you rode. It will not be so great a change if on earth you had all luxuries and satisfactions. It will not be ;o great a change for you to sit down on the banks of the rivar of life if on earth you had a country seat. But, oh, the joy for Ka tttqqt?tt fivif. tirKon cfjin inf.A flia poIac. fcial equipage, and oh,the joy of those to whom home was a martyrdom on earth, when they go into that home where they will never have to do anything they do not want to do. What a. change from tne time sha put down tho rolling pin to the time she took up the scepter! if Chatswork park and the Vanderbilt mansion were lifted into the celestial city thay would be looked at as uninhabitable rookeries, and Lazarus himself would be ashamed to be seen going in or out of either of them, so great are the palaces awaiting all God's dear children, and ?o much grander the heavenly architecture than the earthly. It is often not only the toil of the housekeeping but it is that the 3ickness and the sorrow go along. It is a 3imple fact that one-half the women of the lana are invalids. The mountain lass who hns never had an ache or a pain may consider household work of no very great weariness, and at the eventide may skip out to the fields and drive the cattle home, and until 10 o'clock at night may fill the cabin with laughing racket; but, oh, to do tne nara worn: or tne nousenoia wiui a shattered constitution?after six weeks' whooping cough has raged in the household, making the nights as sleepless as the days, then it is not so easy. And then this work of the home has often to be undertaken when the nerves are shattered with some bereavement that has put desolation in every room of the house, and set the crib into the garret because its occupant has been hushed into a slumber that needs no mother's lullaby. Oh, it was a great deal easier for her to brood the whole flock than to brood a pait of them, now that the rest have gone. You may tell her that her departed children are in the bosom of a loving God,but motherlike she will brood both flocks, putting one wing of care over the flock in the home, putting the other wing of care over the fiock in the grave. JN'othing butt&e oia-tastnonea religion of Jesas Christ can take a woman happily through home trials. All these modern religions amount to nothing. They do not heln. They do not comfort when tnere is a dead babe in the house. Away with them, and give us the old-fashioned religion of Jesus Christ that has comforted so many in the days of sorrow and trouble. Romance and novelty may for a while seem to be a substitute. The marriage day has only goue by, just gonj by, and all household cares are atoned for by the joy of being together and by the fact that when it is lato at night it is not necessary to discuss whether it is time to go. All the mishaps of the newly-married couple in the way ot household affairs are not matters of anxiety or reprehension, but of merriment. The loaf or bread turned into a geological specimen, the slushy custards and the jaundiced and measly biscuits. Oh, it is a very bright sunlight that falls upon the cutl-ary and mantel ornaments of a new home. Komance and novelty will do for a little, but after a while the romance is all gone and there is a loaf to be made, a loaf that caunot be sweetened by any earthly condiments and cannot be flavored with any earthly flavors, and cannot be baked in any ordinary oven. It is the leaf of domestic happiness. All the ingredients from heaven. Fruit from the tree of life and sweetened with the new wine of the kingdom, and baked in the oven of home trial. Groa only can make that loaf. You can cut it, but it takes God to make it. Solomon wrote out of his own miserable experience?he had a wretched home?no man can be happy with two wives, much less with seven hundred? and out of his wretched experience, he wrote: "Better is a dinner of herbs and love therewith than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." Oh, the responsibilities of housekeepers. Kings by their indigestion have lost empires and generals through indigestion have lost battles. One of the great statisticians says that out out of a thousand unmarried men thirty-eight were criminals and out of a thousand married men only eighteen were criminals, sho wing the power of home. And oh, the responsibility resting upon housekeepers. By the food they provide, by the couch they spread,by the books they introduce, by the influences they brifrg. around the home they are helping to decide the physical, the intellectual, the moral, the eternal welfare of the human race. Oh, the responsibility. That woman sits in the house of God to-day, perhaps entirely unappreciated. She is the banker of her - i r.l. 4-Ury nome, cue pros.u.'ui/, iu" tiioumi, uuD teller, the discount clerk, and ever and anon there is a panic. God knows the anxieties and the cares, and He knows that thia is not a useless sermon, but that there are a multitude of hearts here waiting for the distillation of the divina mercy and solace in their home trials and their home duties and their homo fatigues. The world hears nothing about them. They never speak about them. You could not with the agonies of an Inquisition bring the truth out of them. They ke^p it still. They say nothing. They endure, and will until God and the Judgment right their wrongs. Oh, but says some sister in the house, "are you not wi ling to admit that after all woman's life at home is one of self-sacrifice?" Ye3, my sister, an I that is the only kind of life wortn living. That has been the life of Florence Nightingale, that was the life of Edward ravson. that was the life of the Lord Jesus Christ, that is the life of every mau or woman that is happy?a life of selfsacrifice. These people living for themselves ?are they happy? f^nd me one. I will give you all the nations ot ,he earth to find me me. Not happy, no, rot happy. It is the self-sacrificing people that are happy, for God pays so largely, so gloriously, so magnifiI cently in the deep and eternal satisfactions of tha soul. When young Dr. Hutchison, of this city, a few years a?o stayed in a diphtheretic room to relievo a patient and was so saturated with the poison thai hi died, we all wanted to put garlands on his brow. The whole city was moved in idmiration of that young doctor. Oh, how we admire self-denial and self-sacrifice, but how little we have of it. How much easier it is to applaud it than to exercise it. When yen's ago in the burning of a hotel at St. Louis, a youn? man on the fifth floor rushed for the room of his mother and plunged through the darkness and the smoke, crying out: "Mother, where are you?" and never came back again, all the world admired tbat young man. Splendid young man! Everybody said was n. snlondid vouner man. Self sacrifice. We all admire it in others. How littla we exercis9 of itl How much would we endure? How much would we risk for others? A very rough schoolmaster had a poor lad that had offended the laws of the school, and he ordered him to come up. "Now," he said, "you take off your coat instantly and receive this whip." The boy declined, and more vehemently the teacher said, "1 tell you, now take off your coat, take it off instantly." The Boy again declined. It was not because he was afraid of the lash; he was used to that in his cruel home. But it was for shame; he had no undergarments, and when at last he removed his coat there went up a sob of emotion all through the school a3 they saw why he did not wish to remove his coat, and as they saw the shoulder blades almost cutting through tha skin. As the schoolmaster lifted his wnip to strike a rotate, healthy boy 1 leaped up, and said: "Stop, schoolmaster; wnip me. xia is uniy a pwi ^uayt uc can't stand it, whip me." "Oh," said the teacher: "It's going to be a very severe scourging, but if you want to take the position of a substitute you can do it." Thebov said: "I don't eare, whip me, I'll take i^he^s only a poor chap. Don't you see the bones almost come through the flesh? Whip me." And when the blows cam 3 down on the boy'a shoulders, this healthy, robust lad made no outcry: he endured it all uncomplainingly. We all say: "Bravo!' for that laa. "Bravo, that is the spirit of Christ Splendid." How much scourging, how much cnast sjment. how much anguish will you and I take for others? Oh, that we might have something of that boy's spirit. Aye, that we might have something of the spirit of Jesus CbiLt, for in all our occupations and trade* and business, and all our life, home life, " * t t J* ? ? ? ? ? ?A ioreign me, we me ou njuiumuu uuau wc i straggle will soon be over. One of the most affecting reminiscences of my mother was my njniem brance of her a3 a Christian housekeeper. She worked very hard and when we children would come in from play in the summer noon and sit down at the table, I remember sometimes seeing her come in with beads of perspiration alon? the line of the gray hair, and I remember that sometimes she would sit down at the table and lean her head on her wrinkled hand and say: "Well, the fact is I am too tired to eat." Loag after she might have delegated these duties to others she persisted in the work, and we rather liked it, because somehow things ta,tad better when she made them. Some time ago, on an express train in tbj night, I shot past the old homestead and I cleared the blur off the window and was trying to look through and peer into the darkness, and one of my old schoolmates that I had not seen that night tapped me on the shoulder and said: "De Witt, I see you are trying to look for the scenes of your boyhood. "Oh, yes," I said, "I was trying to look at! the old place where my mother lived and died." That nip-ht in the cars, the whole scene came back. There was the country homa There was the nooDday table. There were the children all around the table, the most of them gone Bow never to come baok. At one end or the table sat my father with a smile that never left his countenance even after he lay in his coffin. It was an eighty-four-year smile, not the smile of inanition as you sometimes see on the face, but a smile of courage and Christian hope: At the other end of the table sat a beautiful, hardworking, aged Christian ho jsokeeper?my mother. Oh, she looks so tired, she looks so very tired. I am glad she has so good a place to rest in. "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord; they rest from their labors and their works do follow them." TEMPERANCE DEPARTMENT. John B. Gough. 1 Dead on the field of battle, In conflict with the foe, The field o'er which the angels Are flying to and fro. ffo foeman's hand hath smote him, The soldier true and grand, Whose battle-cry has been for God, Home, and native land. But the brave heart was weary; God saw he needed rest, And sent a bright-winged angel To call him to His breast. The ''loved disciple" Ion3r ago Leaned there, and knew His peace, And the brave, toil-worn soldier Has gained a sweet release. A wail of bitter mourning From myriads doth rise, But it cannot drown the paeons Of welcome from the skies. " To him that overcometh," 1 This is the strain they sing, ( " He shall have power for ever" In the city of our King. And the thousands he has rescued Shall join the loud acclaim. A V.1 U *f/M? 4-Vn-k ti'Arlr lm urroiirrV>f ZXJJLL UlCdO iillll 1V1 liiD "UAft uu mavu^uw In the Redeemer's name. ?Mrs. Richmond, in National Advocate. Fast Type-Setting and Temperance. The winner of the recent type-setting , contest in a Philadelphia museum was the only one among the numerous contestants that was solely temperate in his ; habits?never having drank liquor, or ; indulged in the u~e of tobacco. To have i such a man win the match is highly sat. J isfactory, proving, that when enduranc J is called into play, the cne who had never , been a slave to ruinous and useless habits i of rum and tobacco, stands a better ; chance for success than those who are ad- ! dieted to intemperance. Let this prove , a warning to young people growing up, ] who consider it a mark of manhood to ' i patronize the tobacco shop and liquor saloons. The supposed 1 'stimulating" j effects of these poisonous drugs are only | outward indications of weak tempera- i ments.? West Oroie (Fenn.) Independent, 1 i Made Mad by Rum. Anna Shield, a woman of forty-one years, who claims to be homeless, was ! intoxicated and turbulent in the Ho- J boken ferry late on Saturday night. She I carricd a young child in her arms, and 1 for fear it might be injured or killed by 1 the reckless woman she was arrested. As socn as she reached her cell she threw j her child down on the stone floor, ser- < iously injuring it. The child was taken from her. She attempted later to hang herself. She had fastened two handker- j chiefs about her neck and secured the , ends around one of the upper bars of her i cell. She was cut down and removed to 1 the county jail.?New Tori Herald. Temperance Notes. Drinking water neither makes a man j sick, nor in debt, nor his wife a widow. ?Spanish Maxim. i The American hog is still prohibited i by the French and German governments* 1 French and German wines and liquors are still allowed to come to America. A man in a Salem (Mass.) liquor-saloon was recently the subject of a bet as to how much whisky he could drink; drank sixteen glasses, then fell to the floor, and died soon after. A novel tempcrance organization has i been formed in Salisbury, Maryland. Each member puts $1 in a common purse -- ? ?A 4.1,. r 1 promises nut unun. nujuuiug iui n year. If he breaks his pledge he forfeits his $1 to those who remain faithful. It is said that rock-and-rye candies, "soaked in bad whisky and poisoned with fusel-oil," are being sold near many New York city school houses for the purpose of teaching the boys and girls to lore intoxicating liquors. WOMAN'S WORLD. PLEASANT BEADING FOR FEMININE READERS. A Proverb Knocked on the Head. Tig a like!, a base one; we'll hear it no more, Thmio-h a oroverb^tis no less a lie. To say that when poverty enters the door Love out of the window will fly. The love that is true has no craving for pelf; Through weal and through woe twill endure; Conjugal affection is wealth in itself, Adversity can't make it poor. ?Boston Courier. What Astonished the Young Man. "I am a designer and an artist and something of an inventor," said a young man who stood on the corner of State and Madison streets one sunny afternoon last week, "and I am familiar with the vast possibilities in arrangement and combination of colors and forms. But of all the exhibitions of variety I ever saw this takes the bark off the tree. I never saw anything like it. For an even hour I have been standing here, lost in amazemonf " "What do you mean?1' inquired the Herald rambler. "Why, the women's bonnets. Bet I have seen 10,000 women pas9 this corner this afternoon, and not one of them wore a bonnet or hat or headdress of any sort like any other woman. I have a quick eye for such things, and if there had been any two alike I should certainly have noticed them. Once in awhile you see one that in some respects resembles some other one,but upon close comparison you find that they are quite .unlike. The marvel to me is, as it must be to any one who gives the subject a moment's thought, how so many things as simple as most of these bonnets are can be made with such an endless variety. What designers these bonnet-builders must be?wonderful, truly wonderful."?Chicago Herald. Duties of Congressmen's Wives. Some of the new Senators' and Representatives' wives, if they arc not too selfconscious, or too awed by their position, have a rich time of it in familiarizing themselves with Washington ways, writes a correspondent of the Buffalo Commercial. One of them lately said to me: "I got a list of all the duty calls I had to make, and went round and stuck to it until I first made them, and, my dear, when I was done I tell you I felt like a tramp?going to all these strange houses without knowing a soul inside." I think they aro very apt to enjoy their first winter the best of all, notwithstanding some infelicities that come from ignorance, because the frashness of the whole thing more than compensates for the perils of inexperience. Then again there are some who stay a long time and never seem to gain savoir fuire. It was not a new member's wife, but Mrs. Bland, of Missouri, wife of the champion "silver" man, who kept one of Mi9i Cleveland's lunch parties waiting while Bhe did an extra half hour's shopping, then made her appearance among the company unconcerned and radiant, with a shopping bag on her arm (not bundles, though, as the story was told in print). Major Poore gallantly says: "Why, certainly, she had to have her shopping-bag to carry her silver dollars in." Miss Cleveland received her beautifully, and had the grace to wait five or ten minutes longer before leading the way to the dining-room. Eccentricities of House-Cleaning. I once knew a brisk woman who used to loosen her carpets in the last of February, so that she might take advantage of the first warm day, and whisk them out before the gaze of an astonished world. There was a tradition in her family that all carpets should be up and stoves down by the middle of March, and unless positively frozen up and snowed under, she fought it out on that line. She and her family are long since dead, as might be expected, sacrificed not by cleanliness, but by a silly pride and an insane desire to be more "forehanded' than her neighbors. I have noticed that these women who are | 30 fprehanded with their house-cleaning are apt to be forehanded in their deaths. They seem to fancy there is some merit - -3 xl in tnus lorcing me season, aim tut-/ plunge into the good work with all the enthusiasm of the ancient martyrs, laying up coughs and colds and treasures in heaven. So many women clean house according to tradition, instead of common sense. They learned in their yonth that spring begins in March, and in March they will clean house if they kill themselves and their families in the attempt. They remind ma of that imprudent young man who attempted to 3cale the Alpine heights, refusing to listen to sensible advice, and shouting "Excelsior" to all inquiring friends, rhese women, amid the snow and biting winds of a linserinir winter, will expose life and limb, or at least fingers and thumbs, and backs, to get ahead of their neighbors and have their house cleaned Brst; they go pegging away up the wintry Alps, in a lame, rheumatic, but determined procession, waving their tackhammers and sciubbing-brushes, and shouting "Excelsior," till they disappear in a cloud of dust. They pay no attention to good advice, nor do they heed the roar of the awful avalanche of dust and dirt, and carpets, and stoves, and soot that they bring down on their devoted heads; on they rush, and down from the cold, damp shades of their fireless, sunless parlors comes the last faint scho of their cries.?Good Housekeeping. Odd Fashions in Buttons. "Buttons arc now as much a part of the makeup of a dress as the cloth itself," a dealer said to a reporter, "and as much cure is exercised in their selection is in the cutting and fittiug of the garment. The colors must harmonize with that of the goods to the shade, and in size the buttons must correspond with the general style of the dress and the toilet which follows. On street costumes of rough imported cloth, which have lately come into fashion, buttons as hirge as a Bilver half dollar are used. They are mostly of bronze, decorated with various designs, and expensive. Some are made of shell, and are variegated and brilliant. The decorations on the bronze buttons are landscapes, heads of various historical personages and horticultural designs. There are still others that arc made in imitation of cameo, and others are manufactured from a peculiar mixi...? ~t ~:if nnd tiltrnr Of rniircn tTipqp Ill I U 111 ^ J 1 O UUU V* VW?. ww ?.WWW Btyles of buttons would never do for h-mse costumes, but are quite appropriate on the street on heavy garments. The old style buttons, which were once so fashionable, are now used on black silk suits. "Women of qniet taste, however, always prefer flat, silk covercd buttons, and small crochet buttons. School girls affect large gilt buttons, but the handsome bronze buttons are the rage and will, no doubt, continue to be so for some time. "In looking back over my stock of ten, Sfteea, twenty and twenty-five years ago, I find many curious styles of buttons, which were in use at those periods. 'Hie buttons used among the rich twentyfive years ago were made of metal, mostly in imitation 01 goia ana silver. In still earlier days it was the custom to make buttons out of silver and gold pieces, but that was long before my day in the business, and I haven't any relics of that time. Chintz and calico dresses were profusely decorated with largo buttons of agate as large as a silver dollar, among which red and purple predominated. Then there were the small bronze horn buttons, which became popular and were much worn by the belles of the period. There was also used about this time a large button of solid mother of pearl. Then came glass buttons of peculiar shapes, nickel buttons, with de signs of stars find other figures upon i them, and also large brass buttons, with which dresses were profusely trimmed. Cone-shaped, white porcelain buttons were in vogue at one time, and the more pointed tbey were, the more fashionable they were considered. "Brass buttons shaped as acorns, buttons of brass open work, with red linings, and a myriad of other odd designs were among the styles worn twenty-five years ago. A little later small pearl buttons, shirt buttons they were called, came into use, and were sewed close together on the front of a dress. About the same time the metal buttons were made smaller, and the glass and porcelain ones shared the same fate. The craze for small buttons became as great as it had formerly been for the large ones. Then it became the fashion to imitate fruits and clusters of grapes in buttons. These buttons wert worn in large bunches on the fronts oi ladies' suits and were almost as tempting as the fruit itself, the imitations were so perfect. Jet buttons superseded these and were worn in various shapes, but usually in the form of a long black worm. They were used with heavy braided plastrons and were, in their day, considered 'just the thing.' "?New Tori Tribune. Fashion Notes. Buttons continue large. White handkerchiefs prevail. Ferns are favorite designs on the new goods. Silver braid is much used on street costumes. | Milanese silk gloves are made to fit perfectly. Gilt cords and tassels are used on house shoes for lacing. The Catogan braid remains in fashion for young ladies. Satin and moire stripes are again brought forward. Gray is to be a favorite color for those of lady-like tastes. Sateens multiply in every important phase of progression. Pendants of jet edge high collars and cover vests in profusion. Crinkled seersuckers are shown with block and jacquard di signs. Brilliant scaTlet has again become the fashionable color for ball dresses. ? - Ml __ The dawn oi a suk era, as iar as iasuion is concerned, has come upon us. Fans may be fastened to the shouldei with long ribbons which match the i dress. "Lace crinkle" is a novelty. It ha* alternate stripes of seersucker and lace work. Every material has embroidery, even cotton, and almost all these have box robes. Colored laces will combine with the silk foulards for stylish summer costumes. Though large bouquets are fashionable, they are in no particular graceful oi pretty. . Taffeta, an old and popular fabric, is much worn in combination with othei materials. Black hosiery is worn by grown persons and children. Scarcely any light colors are worn. Bridal slippers have a couple of white ostrich tips well curled where formerly was a spray of orange blossoms. In spite of prediction to the contrary, boucle materials are in demand and are also to be largely used next autumn. The new straw goods in the millinery department are exquisite,and must become more popular than for many seasons. All undcrclothes are tucked, as many as fifteen minute tucks being seen on some of the very fine cambric underskirts. Broad strings of crape are to be worn on Leghorn or very yellow straw bonnets, that will allow their being used as scarfs. The new spring hats are very high and very low; the bonnets are very large and very small. There is no middle ground. It is said that there are to be more rich fabrics worn this summer than ever before, and if the modistes continue in their present course this prophecy will be correct. Pearl fringes are made of small and lororp hpurJs* some renresent the coral fringes and have pearl shaped drop3 art the end of each branch; others have mother-o'-pearl sequins mingled with the pearls. Entire overdresses of wool guipure, made up without lining, will be^worn over silk slips for semi-dress occasions, and fine grade of wool guipure net will be conspicuous in dresses prepared for summer resorts. . Ribbed underwear is dow so beautifully made t\at it adaps itself to the figure withou t a wrinkle. It may be had in a variety of shapes. For weaz with evening dresses, it is sleeveless and cut quite low in the neck. Parasols have made their appearance in a variety of novel shapes and fabrics. Etamine with embroidered stripes and embroidered or printed crape are the newest materials with which they are | covered. Lace covers are used ov<?r sliaded silks of varicus hues. In Pioneer Times. An incident in pioneer life may show ' what times were in 1800. My mother I said to her neighbor, a Mrs. Roe, living a mile and a half distant, "I have got a fleece now, for I have carded the colt I and picked the wool out of an old bed [ quilt and am making stockings." Mrs. Roe replied, "So have I got a fleece, for I shaved our dog and with wool from a bed blanket will soon have efr\/^lrlnrrc tAf> ^ A a pan ui oiuv,niupo| ?. ? short time afterward the whole neighborhood footed it four miles to see two sheep, so great was the sight.?Cortland (2V. 7.) Standard. In 1851 there were fifty-one scientific and art schools in Great Britain. Now there are 1,927 of these institutions, with 87,777 students in science. The entire educational establishment is under government control. ' [ REV. Sill JONES. ' | %. STUDY OP THE NOTED SOUTHERN EVANGELIST'S MANNER. Vot an Orator, "as Brutus is," but Swaying: His Auditors with * earnestness ana a * 100a. of Thought. Sam Jones, if questioned about the lecret of his influence upon the masses of people who throng in thousands to hear aim every night, wherever he goes, night say with modesty and with jome truth what Mark Antony said with subtlety: [ am no orator as Brutus is, But as you know me all, a plain, bluat man. He makes a queer impression upon one who looks at him over a long stretch of masses of heads and tries to estimate his "J qualities as a speaker. But the first idea is, what a magnificent audience. The big, low-roofed hall is packed with people, and the banks of spectators slope up 1 v to the ceiling on all sides. The form that rises upon a platform almost in the centre has the eyes and ears of all that vast assemblage. There is no greater opportunity olnniinnnfl fnT anooVor llAl \J an audience that hushes its chattering curiosity to catch his every word, and he has a theme above all other themes that have called forth human eloquence. The figure is not an impressive one in its quiet conventionality. The speakef > in a cutaway coat showing his watcnchain might be taken for a well-to-do clerk or engineer. The first peculiarity is noticed when he lifts his hands. The lanky, cufflesa wrists contrast strangely with the white-collared neck. But Mr, Jones has not overlooked an article of his dress. "When he lifts his arms in apos- * " trophe or prayer that stretch of bare wrist has its proper dramatic effect. He is a man who is appealing to the people, and he does not wish to have any more starch about him than is necessary. The voice has a plaintive as well as a penetrative quality; it rises and falls, slowly. drawling, and with every phase tipped with a rising inflection and a twang. It is not wearisome; it is soothing. It is * . the voice of one who has never been in much of a hurry, and it might have takeE its melancholy color from the loneliness of the mountains. It is homely, but not . .. 3 rude. The sermon begins and one wonders at the speaker's fluency. He takes aa idea and he spreads it out as thinly as they spread the butter on the bread at a charity school. He is never at ? a loss for an idea, for he keeps ringing the changes on the old one till something else occurs to him. When he feels for something fresh, he passes his hand slowly over his head, running his fingers lightly through his hair. He seems to have the assurance of innocence itself; thoughts panting for utterance do not stumble or crush each other at his lips; he never suffers from the rush of ideas to the brain. Other men may tremble or flush with the message that is in them and struggling for deliverance, but Sam Jones has a calm consciousness of power thai would well become a power that waa greater. TT*? snnn makes a ioke. There is a rio pie of applause and a great gratified cackling. The fringe of spectators neai the doors who have been sitting and staring at one another with the indifference of sight-seers suddenly crane their necks and cackle with the rest. That ' '-> is undoubtedly what some of them have been waiting for. It is said that Americans are flippant. Some, indeed, speak of their flippancy as irreverence. But there are others that hold humor, even if it sometimes run away from the apronstrings of taste, is a healthy child and , $ will grow up rugged and manly. Mr. Jones, it would hardly be original to say, is a humorist. It may be questioned , M whether the tragedy of life has impressed him deeply, but it is certain that the comedy ha3 touched him acutely. But stop. He strikes a pathetic chord. He speaks of maternal love. The tone is true, but not overwhelming. An orator would have swayed that vast audience, and for a single instant perhaps have fused all souls in a single flame of feeling. Mr. Tones is not the master of his hearers. There is something wanting in him to give him absolute control. The expres ^ AA vnfnrna Irt QAmO 51UU (Ji lliuiucicutc ittuiuo w/ Duiuv (UVVW) the smile of amusement to others, and the loose, flowing sentences slope lazily through the air. Now and then, when a point is to be made, the speaker stoops low, and lifting himself high whilt 3weeping his arms, gives forceful utterance t? some epigrammatic thought This is what breaks the monotony at intervals. Once an imaginotive flight is attempted?the description of a caravan in the desert sending the cry of "Water found" from one veice to another toward the rear. The figure is a fine one, the simile as it is applied is apt; but before the effect of what is really eloquent is obtained the speaker branches off on a trivial story. It may be said that what is the best in 0 T Cm nnorr ^QmillOr TITQXT TTvA Oct ILL U11C3 123 LLJLO COOJj Ktmttxiu ? %mj t A. IK very fact that he take3 no pains with words or with calculating effects proves that he is net a really great speaker. There is something more than instinct in the triumphs of great word-builders and great word-utterers. There is work, hard, patient, and sometimes painful. Mr. Jones' fluency is at once his gift" and his fatal defcct. He may convirf6e many of the people who hear him; but he does not thrill them with enthusiasm, The word "brother" is scattered through his rambling discourse, and the kindly, off-hand way in which it is spoken makes it effective. It is the best thing he does. The people iu the building go scrambling out as soon as he is through; they have listened to one of their own kind, ?1 1- /urorrdow TOO IT nl speaiuug iu ?uuu u?yh ciwjuu; '"v? ? duty and of other things: they have been interested; they have been tickled?nothing1 more, unless one be permitted to assume that they have been bettered by what they have heard.?Chicago Tribune. The Schooner John G. Whittier. A new schoener for the Gloucester (Mass.) fisheries launched recently, waa christened the John G. "VHiittier. The poet acknowledged the compliment by sending tbe owners the following lines. TO A CAPE ANN SCHOONKB. Luck to the craft that bears this name of mine! Good fortune follow with the golden spoon, The glazed hat and tarry pantaloon; And wheresoe'er her keels *shall cut the brine Cod, hake, and mackerel quarrel for her line. Shipped with her crew, whatever wind may blow Or tides delay, my wish with her shall go, Fishing by proxy. Would that it might show At need her course, in lack of sun and star, Where icebergs threaten and the sharp reefs are: Lift the blind fogs on Anticosti's le9 And Avaloh's racks; make populous the sea Round grand Menan with eager finny swanns, Break the long calms and charm aw^r the storms, ?John 0. Whittier. j Oak Kxoll, 8d mo., 23,1886. i *1 l