The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, April 21, 1886, Image 3
,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