The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 01, 1886, Image 3
1^
. ffl TMIAGE'S SERMON.
THE ORCHARD ON THE HILL.
Text: "Alia wnen rney wore come u? we
place, which is called Calvary, there they
crucified Him, and the malefactors, o^e on
* the right hand, and the other on the left/'?
Luke xxiii. 3o.
Just outside of Jerusalem is a swell of
ground, toward which a crowd are ascending;
for it is the day of execution. What a
mighty assemblage: Some for curiosity to
hear what the malefactors will say, and to
see how they will act. The three persons to
be executed are already there. Some of the
spectators are vile of lip and bloated of cheek.
Some look up with revenge, hardly able to
keep their hands oft' the sufferers. Some tear
their own hair in a Irenzy of grief. Some
' ?> ..1 k..,nl, ??? ,'nfn
gcauam sueui uuauw. uuum uican vuu
uncontrollable weeping. Some clap their
hands in delight that the offenders are to be
punished at last. 1 he soldiers, with drawn
swords, drive back the mob, which press on
so hard There is fear that the proceedings
may be interrupted- Let the German
Legion, now stationed at Jerusalem, on
horseback, da-h alon? the line, and force
back the su:ging multitude. "Back with
you!" is the cry; "Have you nevor seen a
mau die before P'
Three crosses in a row. An upright pie:e
and two transverse pieces?one on the top,
on which the hands are nailed, and one at the
middle, on which the victim sat. Three trees
just planted, yet bearing fruit?the one at
the right bearing poison, and the one at the
left bitter aloes; the one iu the middle, apples
of love. Norway pine, and tropical orange,
and Lebanon cedar, would not make
so strange a grovo as this orchard
on the hill Stand, and give
a look at tne three crosses. Just look at the
one on the light. Its victim dies scoffing.
Mnra t-rfimpnrimis than his Dhvsical antruish I
is his scoru and hatred of Him on the middle
cross. This one on the right twists half
around on the spikes to hiss at the One on the
middle. If the scoffer could get one hand
loose, and He were within reach, he would
imite the middle sufferer in the face. He
hates Him with a perfect hatred. I think he
wishes he were down on the ground, that he
might spear Him. He envies the mechanics
who, with tb.jir nails, have nailed Him fast.
Amid the settling darkness, aud louder than
th? crash of the rocks, I hear him jeer out
these words: "Ah! ah! you poor wretch, I
knew you were an impostor! iou pretended
to be a God, and yet you let these armed
legions master you." It was in some such
hate that Voltaire, in his death hour, because
he thought he saw Christ in his bedroom, got (
op on his elbow and cried out: "Crush that !
wretch!" (
What had the middle cross done to arouse ,
ap this right-haud cross? Nothing. Oh, the
enmity or the natural heart against Christ!
The world likes a sentimental ChiTst or a
ph lanthropic Christ: but a Christ who
somes to snaccn men iroui insir sins, awaj
with Him! On this right-hand cross, toaight,
I see typified the unbelief of the world.
Men say-. "Back with Him from the heart
I will no* let Him take my sins. If He will
die, let Him die for Himself, not for me."
There has always been a war between 1
this right-hand cross and the middle
cross, and wh?rever there is tan
unbelieving heart, there the fight goes
on. O, if, when that dying malefactor perished,
the faithlessness "of man had perisned,
then that tree whieh yields poison would
have budded and blossomed with life for all
the world Look up into that disturbed
. countenance of the sufferer, and see what a
ghastly thing it is to reject Christ. Behold
in that awful face, in that pitiful look, in !
that unblessed death hour, the stings of the
sinner's departure. What a plunge into
darkness! Standing high uron the cross on
the top of the hill, so that all the world may ,
look at him, he says: 4'Here I go out (
Of a miserable life into a wretched (
eternity! One! Two! Three! Listen
Co the crash of the fall, all ye
a.^ei 1 So Hobbes, dying atter he had se venty
years jp which to prepare for eternity, said:
' Were I master of all the world, I would
give it all to live one day longer." Sir Francis
Newport, hovering over the brink, cried i
out: "Wretch that I^m, whither shaillfly
from this breastf What will become or me;
O, that I were to lie upon the fire that never
is quenched, a tbousaud years, to purchase i
the favor of God and be "reconciled to Him
again! O, eternity! O, eternity! Who can
discover the abyss of eternity? Who can
paraphrase upon these words: For ever and
for ever
That right-hand cross, thousands have
perished on it, yea, in worse agonies.
For what is physical pain comSred
with remorse, at the last,
at life bad been wasted, and only a fleeting
moment stands between the soul and its everlasting
overthrow? 0 God, let me die anywhere
rather than at the foot of that righthand
cross. Let not one drop of that blood
fall upon my cheek. Rend not my ear with |
that cry. 1"see it now as never before?the i
loathsomeness and horror of my unbelief. (
That dying malefactor was not so much to
blame as L Christianity was not, established,
and perhaps not until that day had that man j
heard the Christ. But after Christ has stood 1
almost nineteen centuries, working tha won- ]
ders of His grace, you reject Him. That |
right-hand cross, with its long team, over- \
shadows all the earth. It is planted in the i
I ,.t 4.L- ^.'11 fima
uoaib ui IUO ia.O. ?? ucu nm IUJ uiuo wuto <
that the Spirit of God shall, with its axe, i
hew down that right-hand cross, until it shall i
fall at the foot of that middie cross, and un- ;
belief, the railing malefactor of the world,
shall perish from all our hearts. Away from
me! thou spirit of unbelief! 1 hate thee!
With this sword of God I thrust thee back
and thrust thee through. Down to hell;
down, most accursed monster of the earth,
and talk to the millions thou bast already
* damned. Talk no longer to these sons of Goa> 1
these heirs of heaven.
"If thou be the Son of God." Was there
any "if' about it2 Tell me, thou star tnat
in robe of light did run to point out His birth*
pla e. Tell me, thou s-a that didst
put thy hand over thy lip wbea '
He bid thee be stilL Tell ire, ye [
dead who got u*> to see Him die. Tell me,
thou sun in mid heaven, who for Him diust i
puil down over thy face the veil of darkness.
Tell me, ye lepers who were cleansed, ye '
dead who were raise 1, is He the Son of God?
Aye, aye! responds the uuiverse. The flowers
breathe it; the stars chime it; the redeemed
celebrate it; the augeLs rise up on
their thrones to announce it. And yet on
that miserable malefactor's "if'' how many
ball be wrecked for all eternity. That little
u is xne insect wuicn nas enougn venom in
its sting to cause the death of the soul No
if about it. I know it EcceDeus! I feel
it thoroughly?through every nius le of the
body, and through every fa . ulty of my mind;
tad through every energy of my souL Living,
I will preach it: dying, I will pillow my
bead upon it-; cons .lations. Jesus the God!
Away, then, from this right-hand cross.
The red berries of the forest are aj.t to be
poisonous, and around this tree of carnage
grow the red, poisonous berries of which
many have tasted anl died. I can see no use
for this rigb'-han 1 cross, except it be used as
n. Javer with which to upturn tbo unbelief of
the world. Here from the right-hand cross
I go to the le.'t. l ass clear to tho other side.
? That victim als > twists himself upon the
nails to look at the centre cross?yet not to
scoff. It is to worship. H3, too, would like
to get his hand ljose, not to smite, but to deliver
the suderer of the middle cross. He
cries to the railer cursing on the other side:
"S.lence! between us is innocence in
agony. We suffer for our crimes. Silence!''
Uathei around this left hand cross. O! ye
people, be not afraid. Bitter herbs are sometimes
a tonic for the body, and the bitter
aloes that crow on this cree shall eive itrencth
and life to thy soul. This left-baud cross is
a repeating cross. As men who have been
nearly drowned t 11 us that in one moment,
while they were uDder the water, their whole
life passed before them, so 1 suppose that in
one moment the dying malefactor thought
over all his past life. Of that night when he
went into an unguarded door and took the
silver, the gold, the jewels, and as the sleeper
stirred, he put a knife through his heart. Of
that day when, in the lonely pass, he
met the wayfarer, and, regardless of the
cries, anil prayers, and tears, and struselo#
of hi3 victim, be flung the mangled corps*
into the dust of the highway, or heaped upon
it the stones. He says: "uh! I am a guilty
wretch. I de ervo this. There is no need oS
my cursing. That will not stop the pain.
There is no need of blaspheming Christ, for
He has done me no wrong; and yet I cannot
die so. The tortures of my body are outdone
by the tortures of my soul. The past
is a scene of misdoing. The present a crucifixion.
The future an everlasting undoing.
Come back, th ju hiding mid-day san! Kiss
my cheek with one bright ray of comfort.
What! no help from above?no help from beneath.'
Then I must turn to my companion
in sorrow, the One on the middle cross. I
have heard that He knows how to help
a man when he is in trouble I have
heard that He can cure the wounded. I have
heard how He can pardon the sinner. Surely.
: i
in all Mis wanuermgs trp and down the earth J
He never saw one more in need of His for- ^
givene.-s. *
Ble-sed one! 1 turn to Thee! Wilt Thou t
look for the moment away from Thine own 0
pang.? to pity tne< Lord, it is not to have my J
Lauds relieved or my feet taken from the 1
torture. lean stand all this; bat Oh! my J1
sius! my Bios! my sins! they pierce me p
through and through. They tell me I must ''
die for ever. They will push me out into the "
darkness unless Thou wilt help. I confess it T
all. Hear the cry of the dying thief. Lord,
remember me when Thou coinest into Thy ,
kiugdom. I ask no great thiugs. I seek for '
no throne in heaven?no chariot to
take me to the skies; but just ?
think of me when this day's horrors <"?
have passed. Th^nk of me a little?of me, l
the one now hanging at Thy side; when
the shout of heavenly welcome takes Thae {
back into glory, Thou wilt not forget me, ''
wilt Thou? Lord, remember me when Thou :
comest into Thy kingdom?ouly just remem- '
ber me. _
Likewise must we repent. You say: "I *
have stolen nothmg." I reply: We have all "
been guilty of the mightiest felony of the r;
universe, for we have robbed God?robbed
Him of our time, robbed Him of our talents,
robbed mm or our services, suppose you
send a man "West as an agent of your jv
firm, and every month you pay him
his salary, and" at the end of ten years
you find out that be has been serving another ?
firm, but taking your salary; would you not ?
at once condemn him as dishonest? God sent 11
us into this world to serve Him. He has a
given us wages al! the time. One half of us 0
have been serving another master. "When a 11
man is convicted of treason, he is brought ,a
out; a regiment surround him, and the com- l/j
mand is given: "Attention, company! Tata t!
auu: rire:" .nna tne man iam with a hun- ^
dred bullets through his heart. There come li
times in a man's history when the Lord calls d
up the trooD of his iniquities, and at God's "
command they pour into him a concentrated v
volley of torture. You say: "I don't feel V
mvself to be a sinner." That may be. 1
Walk along by the clitt's and you I
see sunlight and flowers at the mouth "
of the cave, and a chandelier of sta'actito t(
near the opening of the cave: but ta'.e a cj
torch and go in, and before you Lave gone si
far you sea the flashing eye of a wild beast, T
or hear the hiss of a serpent So the world si
seems in the sunlight of worldliness; but as I al
wave the tor^hof God's Iruth, and go down
into the deep cavern of the heart?alas! for J
the bristling horrors and the rattling faugs. d
Have you ever noticed the climax in this p
passago of scripture: "The heart is deceitful." g
.That seems enough. But the passage goes on g
and says: "The heart is de/eitful above all fi
things!" Will you not say that is enough? T
But tne passage goes on further and says: n
'"The heart is deceitful above all things and a
desperately wicked." If we could see the a
true coalition of the upardoned before a
God what wringing of bands b
there would be ? what a thousand a
voicedshiiek of supplication and. despair? i
But you are a sinner?a sinner. I speak not q
to the person who sits next to you, but to g
you. You are a sinner. All the transgres- n
sions of a life-time have been gathered up o:
into an avalancha, At any moment it may h
slip from the cliffs and crush you forever. ? :
May the Lord Almighty, bv His grace, help b
us to repent of our sins while repentance it h
possible. .a
The left hand cross was a believing cross. e
There was no guess-work iu that prayer; no
"if in that supplication. The left-hand
cross flung itself at the foot of the middle
cross, expecting mercy. Faith is only just
opening the hand to take what C hrist offers
us. The work is all done, the bridge is built q
strong enough for all of us to walk over. Tap
not at the door of God's mercy with the tip P
of your fingers: but as a warrior, witn I ei
gauntleted fists, heats at the castle gate, so, v
with all the aroused energies of our sonls, ^
let us pound at the gate of heaven. That a
gate is locked. You go to it with a bunch of
keys. You try philosophy; that will not
open it. You try good works; that will not g
open it. A large door generally has a pen
UOIWUS X Udtvt? IUU Ll U33 CWIU. JUC&CT IUO I .
foot of it in the socket of the lock, and by 't
the two arms of lha cross I turn the lock and ti
the door opens. fii
This leff-kand cross was a pardoning cross. P1
The crosses were only two or three yards tr
apart. It did not take long for Christ to c;
hear. Christ might have turned away, and
said: How darest thou speak to Me? Iam
the Lord of Heaven and Earth. I have tc
seen your violence. When you struck g(
down that man in tha darkness, I ?aw you. .,
You are getting a just reward?die in darkness?die
forever. But Jesus said not so; but tt
rather: "This day shalt thou be with Me in T
Paradise;" as much as to say: "I s<e you n,
there; don't worry. I will not only bear my
cross, but help you with yours."
Forthwith the left-hand cross becomes the 8'
abode of contentment. The pillow of the pi
malefactor soaked in blood, becomes like the
crimson upholstery of a King1 couch. When ,
the body bacame still, and tbe surgeons feeling
the pulse said one to another: "He it
is dead," the last mark of pain had tt
crone from his face. Peace had
smoothed his forehead; Peace closed his
eyes; Peace closed his lips. Now you see
why there are two transverse nieces on the as
Cross, for it has be.omea ladder intj the ii<
skies. That dying; head is easy which has r?
under it the promise: "This day shalt thou
be with Me in Paradise." Ye whose lips have _
been filled with blasphemy, ye whose hands "i
for many years have wrought unrighteousness,
ye who have companioned with the un- u
dean, ye who have sealed every height of
transgression, and fathomed every depth, P
and passed every extreme o: iniquity?mercy! 'f
mercy! M
"The dying thief rejoiced to see f<
That fountain in his day; tl
And there may I, as vile as he,
Wash all my sins away."
I have shown you the right-hand eros ^ and ^
the left-hand cross, jnow come totnem:aaie j jcross.
We stood at the one ani found it i r(
vielded poison. We stood at the other ar^1 I fi
found it yielded bitter aloes. Come now to ! u
the middle cross, and shake down apples of
love. Unrover your head. You never saw
so tender a scene as this. You may have n
seen father, or mother, or companion, or Jc
child die, but never so affecting a scene as t
this. The railing thief lo>ked from one way ,
and saw only the rizht side of Christ's face. "
The penitent thief looked from the other way F
and saw the left side of Christ's face. But o
where you sit to-day, in full blaze of Gospel e.
light, you see Christ's full face.
. It was a suffering cros-\ If the weapons j1
of tor:ure had gone only through the l'atty
portions of the body, the torture would not t!
have been so great; but they went through 0
the hands, and feet, and temples; the most ^
sensitive portions. It was not only the sp?ar .
that went into His s de, but the sins of all
the race?a thousand spears?plunge after t<
plunge, deeper and deeper, until the silence g
and composure that before characterized ^
Him gave way in a groan, through which *
rumbled the sorrows of time and the woes of
nt'ncki Unmnn A Karl rl/-VT\A "?fo WAPfif fi]
OVOlUlbT* jumuou "Bio u?a uvuo no ttvtiow,
and hell had hurled its sharpest javelin, and
devils had vented their hottest rage when,
with every nerve in His body in torture, and
every fibre of His heart in excruciation. He 0
cried out: "My God, my God, why hast Thou tl
forsaken Mel" f<
r
It was a vicarious cross?the right-hand ?
cross suffered for itself: the left-hand cross ,
for it.-elf; but the middle cross for you.
When a King was dying, a young man cried: ti
"Pour my blood in'o his voins, that he die p
not." The veins of the young man were
tapped, and the blood transferred; so that ?
the King lived, but tha vouns man died. '
CUrlst saw the race j>enshing. He cried; h
"Pour my blood into their veins, that they r
die not." n
My hand is free now, because Christ's was
crushed My brow is painless now, because
Christ's was torn. My soul escapes, because U
Christ's was bound. I ga:n heaven, because
Christ for me endured tho horrors of hell
When the Swiss were many years ago contpnHinrr
nrrnincf. fhait* nriomioc flv.c oom flmia
enemies star ding iu solid phalanx,and knew 1<
not how to break their ranks; hut one of their [j
heroes rushed out in front of his regiment ?
and shouted: ' Make way for lit>erty!" The
wtapons of the enemy were plunged ii to his c
heart, but while the}- were slaying him o* c
course their ranks were broken, and through t
that gap in the ranks the Swiss marched to a
victory. Christ saw all the powers of darkness
assailing men. He cried out: "Aike
way for the redemption of the world." All J
the weapons of infernal wrath struck Him, 1:
but as they struck Him dur race marched lj
out free.
To this middle cross, my dying hearers, r
look, that your souls may live. I showed you j1
cno right-hand cross in order that you might I
see what an awful thing it is to be unbeliev- d
ing. I showed you the left-hand cross that s
you might see what it is to repent. Now I ^
show you the middle cross that you may see .
what Christ has done to save your souL 1(
Poets have sung its praise, and sculptors p
have attempted to commemorate it in mar- i
ble, and martyrs have clung to it in the fire, j,
and Christians dying quietly in their beds i
have leaied their head! against it. This
hour may all our souls embrace it with an ec- ?
stacy of affection. Lay hold of that cross, U n
sinner. Everything else will fail you. Without a j j
?.
trong grip "of that you perish. Put your
land on that and you are safe, though a
vorl 1 swing from beneath your feet Oh I
hat I might engrave on your souls inefTa';?bly
the three crosses, and that if in your
caking moments you will not heed, thon
hat in your dream this coming night you
night see on the hill back of Jerusalem the
hree spectacles?the right-hand cross, showng
unbelief dying without Christ?the leftnnrl
fifinwirifr wnof. if. ia tn Ka nor^Anorl
rhile the central cross pours upon your soul
he sunburst of heaven ns it says; "By all
hese wounds I plead for thy heart. I have
jved theo with an everlasting love. Rivers
annotquench it. The floods cannot drown
;!" And while you look the right-hand
ross will fade out of sight, and then the
;ft will be gone; nothing will remain
ut the middle cross, and even that in
our dream will begin to change until it be*
imes a throne, and the worn face of Calvay
win D3?ome radiant with gladness; and
istead of the mad mob at the foot of the
ross will be a multitude kne3ling. Aniyou
nd I will be among them. But no! we will
ot wait for such a dream. In this our most
roused mood we throw down at the foot of
tiat middle cross sin, sorrow, life, death,
very thing.
We are slaves; Christ gives deliverance to
he captive. We are thirsty; Christ is the
iver of salvation to slake our thirst.
P"e are hungry; Jesus says, "I am th?
read of life*" We are Condemned to
ie; Christsays: "Save that man from go
lg down to cne pic; i am cne ransom.- we
re tossed on a set of troubles; Jesus cornea
ver it, saying: "It is I, bo not afraid." We
re in darkness; Jesus says: "I am the bright
nd the moraine: star." We are sick; Jesua
i tha balm of Gilead. We are dead; hear
10 shrouds rend and the grave hillocks hears
s he cries: "1 am the ressurrection and the
fe: he that believeth in Me, though he,were
ead.yet shall he live." We want justification.
Being justified by faith, we have peace
i itb God through our Lord Jesus Christ."
want to exercise faith; "Believe in the
,ord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved."
want to get from under condemnation;
There is now, therefore, no condemnation
? them wko are in Christ Jesus." The
ro5s?he carried it The flames of hell?ho
itiered them. The shame?he endured it;
ho crown?he won it. Heights of heaven
ing it, and worlds of light to worlds of light
11 round the heavens cry: "Glory, gloryl"
Let us go forth and gather the trophies for
esjs. From Golconda mines we gather the
iamonds, from Ceylon banks we gather the
earls, from all lands and kingdoms we
ather precious stones, and we bring the
littering burdens and put then\doWn at the
?ot- rvf .Toons ftnH ?dv "All the^fi ara Thine.
'hou art worthy." We go forth a^ain for
lore trophies, and into ono sheaf we gather
11 the sceptres of the Cjesarj, and the Alexnders,
and the C/ars, and the Sultans, of
11 royalties and dominions, and then we
ring the sheaf of sceptres and put it down
t the feet of Jesus, and sav: "Thou art
[ing of kings, and these Thou hast conuea?d."
And then we go forth ajjain to
ather more trophies, and we bid th?
adeemed of all ages, the sons and daughter!
f the Lord Almighty, to come, ana the
osts of heaven bring crown, and palm, and
?eptre, and here by these bleeding feet and
y this riven side, and by this wounded
earl, cry: "Blessing, and honor, and glory,
ud power unto the Lamb forever and forver!"
POPULAR SCIENCE
Careful observations by Schroder, in
ermany, show that one part of sulhuric
acid in 54.000 parts of air will
mse a serious damage to plants in a
ery short time. Coniferous trees are
lore sensitive than deciduous. Fruit
ees are very sensitive.
In a British Association paper, Mr. "W.
[. Preece has recorded an experiment by
hich he localized a fragment of a needle
i his daughter's hand. A fine magnezed
needle was suspended by a delicate
L?er over the hand, and on cutting at the
oint indicuted by this needle the
oublesome bit of steel was found and
strncted.
It is rery unsafe to paper -a room, is
>o often done, over another puper.
ometimes several layers are placed on
le walls. Tnese layers, together with
le paste, become breeders of disease,
he only proper way, when the paper
eeds renewing, is to remove the old
aper entirely and clean the wall. For
eeping-rooms it is better to have no
aner at all.
A new use for the tobacco plant has
een discovered. Its stems and waste,
is claimed, are equal to linen rags in
le manufacture of paper. Tobacco
aste costs less than $10 a ton, linen
tgs $70 to $80. There is no expense in
sorting the former and very little shrink;e,
as against a loss of one-third of
igs. The yearly tobacco waste is esmated
by the census reports at from
000,000 to 4,000,000 pounds.
While ,the subject of earthquakes is
ndcr discussion it might not be inapropriate
to mention that one notable
:ature in connection with the New
ladrid earthquake was its effects on
>rcst trees. Gigantic oaks that, from
leir exterior, appeared to be solid, were
iscovered, upon being cut for sawmill
urposed, to be much impaired and inlred
internally, and as a rule presented
>tten hearts of splintered bodies. This
ict was noted and has been commented
pon.
The world's blind are computed to
nmhfir about 1.000.000. about onesicrht
134 person to every 1,400 inhabitants.
1 Austria, one person in every 1,785 is
lind; in Sweden, one in every 1,418; in
ranee, one in every 1,191; in Prussia,
ne in every 1.111; in England, one in
irery 1,037. The. proportion is greatest
l Egypt, where, in Cairo, there is one
lind person to every twenty inhabiints;
while in New Zealand it falls to
ne in every 3,550 inhabitants. Germany
as the greatest number of institutes for
ae blind, thirty-five; England has six. en;
France, thirteen; Austria-Hunary,
ten; Italy, nine; Belgium, six;
.ustralia, two; while America, Asia and
-frica together are said to possess only
ix.
It is well understood that Great Britin
and other parts of Northern Europe
we much to the warming influence of
" " '-"If flfwnrtw* TKa AvfAnf nf o ?k f.
LIC OtivaiUi l ag OAkuuw vuv v*L-ct
has been given in the calculations of
)r. James Croll, who has found that the
mount of heat conveyed northward in
he Atlantic by this stream is equivalent
D 77,475),550,000,000,000,000 footour.ds
of energy a clay, which is equal
0 all the heat received by 1,500,9:35
ijuare miles at the equator, and more
eat than is conveyed by all the air curcnts.
The heat of the Arctic seas and
orth Atluntic would be diminished that
luch by the stoppage or division of the
reat ocean river.
Choosing Tender Fowls.
If a turkey, for instance, is young, the
;ys will be black and smooth, the eyes
[vely and the feet flexible. If old, the
yes will be sunken and the feet dry. In
hoosing hens, see that their legs and
ombs are limber, which means that
bey are young. If the legs and combs
re rough una stiff, they are old, but
my be good enough for pie or soup. A
oung goose will have a yellow bill and
imber feet. An old gooa? will have both
ill and feet red and dry. Ducks, if
oung, will be limbrr footed; if fat,
lard and thick on the lower part of the
>ody. The same rule applies to wild
1 V* /mi r?K nvA Vtn.
IUUK.3, Wliuac 1CVU, uiuu^ii, uiv ivu, KTI*
ides being smaller than those of tame
lucks. Game can be ju9t a9 ea-ily sheeted,
if you know how, which most
>eople don't. Partridges, for instance,
f young, will have black bills and yellow
egs; if old, white bills and bluo legs.
Ul old fowls, inde-.d, both domesticated
.nd wild, may likewise be told by their
lard, rough or dry feet.?Philadelphia
VtlOS.
?
RELIGIOUS READINGS. I
Disguised Blessings.
I know that trial works tor ends
Too high for sense to trace,
That oft in dark attire He sends
Some embassy of grace.
May none depart till I have gained
The blessings wh'ch it bears,
And learned, though late, I entertained
An angel una wares.
So shall I blesj the hour that seat
Tlio mercy of the rod,
And build an altar by the tent
Where I have met with God.
?James D. Burns, 1858.
Thanking <Jod for Tltorna.
My God, I have never thanked thee for
my thorn. I have thanked thee a thousand
times for my roses, but not once
for my thorn. I have been looking forward
to a world where I shall get compensation
for my cross, but I have never
thought of my cross as itself a present
glory. Thou divine Love, whose human
path has been perfected through suffering?,
teach me the glory of my cross,
teach me the value of my thorn. Show
me that I have climbed to thee the path
of pain. Show mo that my tears have
' ? i i aL _ 4
macte my rainDow. neveai 10 me maw
my strength was the product of that houi
when I wrestled until the breaking of
the day. Then shall I know that my
thorn wa9 blessed by thee, then shall I
know that my cross was a gift from thee,
and I shall raise a monument to the hour
of my sorrow, and tho words which I
shall write upon it will be these: "It
was good, for me to have been ufflicted."
?Rev. Qeo. Matheson.
A Uolilen Thread.
A golden thread of unity ties together
all the experiences and possessions of a
redeemed man from the first moment of
the change that delivers him from the
kingdom of darkness right way on
through the endless pulsations of an
unbroken eternity. Grace is glory in
the bud, glory is grace in the flower; and
all which we hope for in the future is but
the evolving of that which is planted in
? - if wa Iawo Kim if mflV
UUl liCUl L9 A* TVV .??.J
have to fight with much antagonism to
itself both without and within. The
tender green is prophet of the full ear*
We do not get one gift here on earth
and another perfectly different there in
heaven. It is the measure, not the kind,
which varies. That which here, as a
spark of grace, lies often almost hid
among green and smoky wood, there
flames out triumphant as all-brightening
glory. The inheritance is a hop% but
the earnest of the inheritance is a present
possession.?Alexander McLaren, D. D.
Wot Wemry.
It is one thing to put the hand to the
plough; it is another thing to work in
?V>o fniTAw oil ffio rlrnr thrniiflrh till the
??"? ? ?J O
night comes. In the early day the
ploughman rises refreshed from sleep,
the dew is on tho grass, the birds arc
singing their cheerful songs, the fresh
breeze of the morning is blowing. But
as the clay passes tho sun grows hotter,
tho bird-songs are hushed, the dew har
long ago dried from the grass, the wearii
ness of continued exertion creeps over
the frame, and it is nothing but toil to
run th<j long furrows back and forth
across the field. But it is only by this
patient continuance that tho work is
done, the ground cultivated.
It is in spiritual husbandry as it is in
the natural. It is not enough to begin
a good work. "We must not be weary in
well-dcing. It is a great deal easier to
begin, however, than it is to carry the
work on to completion. Ana yet it is
the patient, continuous toil that finally
brings the reward.
Here is a work in a Sabbath-school
class, for example. It is easy, under the
stimulus of some appeal or in the first
flush of the desire to serve Christ, to take
up such work. But it is a much harder
matter to carry it on week by week,
whether there is indifference among the
scholars, or an apparent absence of results,
or other difficulties arise. But it ia
the faithful, not the fitful teacher who
gathers the reward. But for the faithfulness
much of the work already done
would have gone for nothing.
We say then to all Sabbath-school
teachers?"Be not weary in well-doing.''
It is a noblo work in which to engage.
You will never be able to tell, thii
side of eternity, how much your work
has done.
Wiint is true nere 13 true 01 an iorras
of church work. There is need in then:
all of unwearying, patient laborChristian
endeavor of every sort calls for
continuance of effort. Men may well bo
weary of labor on the farm or in the
mine if it bring them no return. Any
one is entirely justified in quitting any
department of labor which does not
yield a support. But in Christian labor
the work must be done whether the
fruit is apparent or not. God's time of
reckoning is not always here on caith.
It is the duty of the Christian worker to
toil on, whether he sees fruit from his
labor or not. The pioneer missionary
Morrison was something like thirty year3
in China before he could baptize the
first convert to Christianity. What if
lie had wearied in well-doing beforo
those long years were done??American
Messenger.
I looked to Jesus and He looked 0:1
me, and we were one forever.? C. E".
Spurcreon.
Th3 encouragement of drunkenness
for the sake of profit on the sale of drink,
is certainly one of the most criminal
methods of assassination for money ever
ndop:ed by the bravos of any ag.i or
country.
Tho Providence Star says: "Tho experience
of the past three months in
1 Rhode Island has proved that a prohibitory
law can be better enforced than a
license law."
TEMPERANCE DEPARTMENT:
Drinking in Kansas.
It is about time that this lying about
drinking in Kansas should comc to an
end. There is les3 drinking in Kansas, and
the people are more temperate, than in
any other State of the American Union.
A tempcrance millennium has not been
established, it is true; but, on the other
hand, nine-tenths of the drinking and
drunkenness of former years has been
abolished. Further, the temperance sentiment
is steadily growing in this State,
growing steadily and firmly. Tens of
thousands of men now go to bed every
night sober and self-respecting who went
to bed every night four or five years ago |
soaked with liquor. Thousands of women
and children hungry and in rags five ;
years ago are now comfortably clad and
sit down every day at the tables provided
with all the necessities of life.
Four-fifths of the people of this State,
knowing that what we assert is true, have
resolved that they will not return to the
old order of things.
The open saloon in Kansas has gone,
and gone to stay.?Atrhi*on Champion.
Tho Fool and His Money.
The workingman who puts his money
into the saloon keeper's till is a fooL He
mortgages his property and the well being
of himself and family, beyond redemption.
Ho puts himself under a
power that uses him to step upon; to
grow fat upon by devouring him; and
that takes the manhood out of him.
We need say nothing against the saloon
keeper; we need to indulge in no
tirade against rum; nor to preach against
the drinking of intoxicating liquor on
moral grounds; nor to say a word about
prohibition or license; it is enough to
point to the spectacle of the workingman's
delivering himself over to a degrading
life, where the brute is developed
in him and his ennobling qualities
are suppressed. It is the degradation of
the man that is so conspicuous; he
throws himself away, and for nothing.
After his hard day's labor he goes to the
saloon and in nn hour he has nothing to
show for that labor?nothing but stupidity,
or a drunken fight, or a crime
committed.
. The workingman who can make no better
showing than this for the expenditure
of his day's wages is a fool?yes, worse
than a fool, for the wo;kingman hds responsibilities
for his conduct that the
fool has not.
iae worAiugnmn m:iy us win oay iu
his fellows: 1'Let's work hard every day
for ten years and sec how rich we c*n
make the saloon keeper on the corner;
we will then make him a boodle alderman,
S3 that he may become richer."
Yet this is what is done in many cities
in this country, though the workingmen
may not plan it beforehand.
What worse could a workingraan do
with his earnings than to spend them
for drink? He might better throw them
into the river or bury them in the
ground, for then there would be no
tyrant ruling over him.
Wages well cared for will return a vast
amount of happiness to the workingman.
Is it better to own a home, or to
be in the clutches of the saloon keeper?
Is it better to have money laid away for
a rainy day, or to be sunk in wretchedness
and poverty?
The saloon receives you in welcome
when you have money and kicks you out
when it is gone. It takes you a man and
makes you a beast. It consumes your
energies and thrives, while you depart a
beggar.
It is useless to quote the figures of the
nation's annual liquor bill; to this workmen
contribute millions, that they may
^ nnt?J ira f Vi om onl troa nf rrtmfnrfQ nnrl I
never get near enough to a luxury to
know what it h like. They part with
millions that might be invested in homes,
in the education of children and in securities.
What many a workman suffers from today
is a want of savings. With these he
might elevate himself; ho might be a
lender instead of a borrower; lie might
become an employer, as well as employed;
he would buy cheaper for cash
than he does now for credit; he would
be happy in tcmperance.in a good home,;
in having promising children, in the respect
that he would rcceive from the
public, in the confidence that he would
have in his manhood. Above all, ho
would not be making a fool of himself
by dumping hi3 wages into a 6aloon.?
Work and Wayes.
The Enemy of Worklnsmcn.
At the recent National Convention of
the Knights of Labor at Richmond, Va.,
their olHcial head, Mr. Powderly, cautioned
the delegates "to avoid the use of
intoxicating beverages, and administered
to the newly-elected officials, chosen to
serve the organization the ensuing year,
the pledge of total abstinence." Power- j
ful as that organization ha9 become nu-!
merically, with rcpieientatives among
tho laboring men of the country, it would
be a great gain to the cause of temperance,
as well as to the industr'al interests <
of the nation, if the pledge of abstinence
could be taken, not only by its officers,
but by all its members. Laboring men
and their families have no greater enemy
than strong drink. If the boycott is
ever to be commended, it would be as
applied to the saloon.?National Ternr,trance
Advocate.
The Mississippi Woman's Christian
Tcmperance Union held their convection
lately in the Hall of Representatives at
Jackson. A large number of delegates
and visitors were in attendance, and reports
from all over the State showed
great advance in the te nperance work
during the last year.
A newly-formed church among the
Zulus ^as the following among its regu- !
lations: "No member shall be permitted
to drink the white man's grog or native
beer, nor touch it to his lips."
- - "
_ - - -. :
APACHE HOMES.
DOMESTIC LIFE OP THE CRUELEST
OF INDIAN TRIBES.
Circular Dwellings of Brush?Inte
I rior Arrangements?Keeping
Warm?Utensils in Common
Use?Water Jugs.
:
They live in circular brush huts, u-ieaJi,
about five feet high, and from six to
eight feet in diameter. To make one a
hollow space is excavated with sharp
sticks and their hands, and the earth is
banked up around the circumference, until
they have a bowl-shaped depression
about a foot and a half deep. Around
the edge of this bushes and branches of
trees arc stuck, bent over and fastened
together to form a round top. In winter
it is thatched with grass, tule or soap
weed, so that it will shed rain. An opening
is left on one side, which serves as
sa outlet for smoke, as well as a doorway.
The fire is made just inside the
ODenin?. For a bed thev break up the
ground, let it dry, pick out the stones
and then spread down dry grass. Seeds,
moat, buckskins, extra clothing, &c.,
are hung outside on upright polej. Formerly
only a few huts were usua'ly found
together, and they were occupied by
members of one family, as these people
had to scatter over the country in small
parties and move frequently in order to
obtain a sufficient supply of food; but in
seasons of plenty villages of about one
hundred souls would be formed, when
the huts of each family were always
built iu a group by themselves.
A very small fire tuffices them, and
they never waste wood by building large
ones, even in winter, or when wood is
very abundant. When cold, one warms
himself by squatting down and wrapping
hts blanket around him and the lire. To
kindle a tire, they resorted to the firedrill
before the introduction of the flint
nnA mnfMiAa hiif. iiqiiaIIv nrft
ouu atoci uuu utduv/uvtf) w
served coals in the ashei to avoid the labor
of drilling. 0 oh me-te-kwa-tc,
"Make the fire blazy,"is the common
expression still used, even when the fire
is to b3 kindled by means of a match. A
slow torch, made of dead wrod, was carried
in traveling. It enabled them to
make tire or smoke signals, by means of
which they could communicate with their
friends at pleasure, as well as to kindle a
fire at their next stopping p'ace. For a
di'ill, they use a pie:e of the stem of the
o-oh kad-je, or "fire-stick bush," about
two feet long and half an inch thick.
They dip one end in the sand,then pressing
it in a shallow depression made in a
piece of dry soft wood, such as the stalk
of the yucca, which is laid on the ground
and held by the foot, whirl it between the
hands. In a few seconds the friction produces
a small quantity of very fine charcoal,
which, when rolled out on some dry
grass or bark-fiber, and given a light puif
or two, bursts into a flame.
Basket-ware and vessels of pottery are
in common use. Their manufacture is
confined to the women, who own all
such property. Unglazed earthen vessels,
of various sizes, for domestic purposes,
such as pots, a-mat, to cook in,
with a capacity of from two to three
gallons, large shallow bowls to hold food,
J ?wifK rrlnVmlnr hn^ips nnrl
ttllll YVttl/Ul jugo mm giwu.... ?
narrow necks, a-mat, ha-thi-wa and sowah,
the largest holding as much as four
gallons, are made out of red clay. Some
of them are decorated with one or two
horizontal bands and zigzag lines painted
in darker or lighter-colored clay. They
all have convex bottom", and are thin
and very brittle. None of them have
feet, but those used for cooking purposes
arc supported over the fire on three
stones, o-kuth-ku-mi. The molding is
done entirely by hand, in the lap or on
the ground, yet the vessels are quite
symmetrical in shnpe. The c!ay of
which they are formed is dried, ground
on a met.itc and then worked into a
dough with saliva, and wat.r which has
been rendered mucilaginous by boiling
cactus in it. The bottom of the vessel
is formed of a lump of the dough, which
- * AL- 1
is pressed into snape Wiin me uauus,
and the rest is built up of rolls,
each one of which adds about one inch
to its height, and is allowed to dry a little
before another is added. Cne hand
on the inside and the other on the outside
press and smooth the clay to give
the vessel its proper contour and thickness.
Saliva is used freely on the hands
to facilitate the work. After a vessel is
completely formed it is thoroughly dried
in the sun or near the fire, and th n
burnt by itself in an open fire. Strong,
light, globular jugs,to carry wtiter in,are
made by covering loosely-woven basket
work with pitch or red clay. These have
two small loops or handles on the largest
part of the body for the attachment of a
string or band, by which the jug is carried
on the back suspended from the
head. They vary in size from mere toys
to those having a capacity of four gallons,
and every womau, and every girl
down to the oge of three or four years,
possesses one or more of them. They arc
one of the most important aitides of
their manufacture, as, during certain seasons
of the year, water is very scarce in
their country, and often has "to be carried
long distances. The strength and
lightness of the jugs recommend them
to other Indians, who frequently procure
them in trade.?American Antiquarian.
A Negro Family Turning White.
11 * 1 1 ' 4 Pnlloffo r\f
ID a CliniCai leL'iurc m tliU VUitvgw v
Physicians and Surgeons, Dr. Henry JReynolds
called attention to the peculiar
case of a colorcd boy in tbe city whose
skin is gradually turning white. Such
cases are rare, the doctor said, but this
case was especially peculiar in that,
while the father and mother of the boy
were botft negroes, the mother and six
of the twelve children were also spotted.
One of the remaining children had white
hair over a fart of his scalp, while the
other five were all black. The changes
in all the spotted members of the family
began while they were st'll young. The
disease which causes this change was
known as vitiligo.and was probably due
co an impaired function of the nerves
that presided over the nutrition of the
part, which produced an imperfect supply
or distribution of the pigment or
coloring matter of the skin. The family
ii ?C.Uirnna Neic?.
nic ail uiuwi ni<juuvu>??M
v
Frightened to Death.
Never frighten children. A mm in
Trenton, whose fourteen-year-old boy
got to staying out too late nights, put a
black mask on his facc, hid in a dark alley,
and jumped out at his son with a fearful
yell as the boy passed by. But it
happened that a policeman was strolling
along at the same time, and as he caught
Bight of the masked figure he shrieked
with terror, lan four miles at the top of
his speed and dropped dead, while the
boy, hastilly calling togc her a mob of
his fellows, pursued his father down the
alley, with I ricks and language, both
hard. And yet, in spite of these terrible
lesson-, there arc grown people who
foolishly delight in frightening children.
Still, the same person isn't liablo to scare
the same boy oftener than ?nee io a century.?
Brooklyn Eng'e,
WORDS OF WISDOM.
Labor is the girdle of manliness. '
At every stage of life he reaches, man
finds himself but a novice.
Much of our waking experience is
out a aream in me aayugnt.
Study the grace of silence when provoked.
Resolve to defer reply to another
An open mind, an open band, and an
open heart will find everywhere an open
The best way to gain a good reputa
tion is to endeavor to be what you desire
to appear.
The charities that soothe and heal, and
bless, lie scattered at tho feet of men
like flowers.
A man that studieth revenue keencth
his own wounds green, which otherwise
would heal and do well.
The real things arc inside. The real
world is the inside world. God is not
up, nor down, but in the midst.
To be thoroughiy good-natured, and
yet avoid being imposed upon, shows
great strength of character.
Tcach self-denial and make its practice
pleasurable, and you create for the world
a destiny more sublime than ever issued
from the brain of the wildest dreamer.
It is a certain sign of an ill-heart to be
inclined to defamation. They who are
harmless and innocent can hare no gratification
in that way; but it ever arises
from a neglect of what is laudable in
one's self, and an impatience of seeing it
in another. ;
There are few louls who are so vigorously
organized as to be able to main
tain themselves in the calm of a strong
resolve; all honest consciences are capable
of the generosity of a day, but almost
all succumb the next morning under the
effort of the sacrifice.
.The Era of Millionaires.
Millionaires are as thick as hops.
There are hundreds of- them in New
York of whom the general public never . "^jjajj
heard. There arc half a hundred, worth
from two to five millions each, of whom
the general public know nothing, and at
least a score whose individual wealth
may be reasonably estimated anywhere
from $25,000,000 to $50,000,000, concerning
whom the ordinary citizen is absolute.y
ignorant. Yet they are men of : ^
affairs, men whose transactions affect
commercial relations tbat belt tnegiooe;
whose business conduct has something
to do with every industry in which mechanics,
oil, light, and fuel are factors.
It used to be said throughout New England,
"the young men go to New York
to seek a fortune." Now it is said "the
men of the country, from the golden
shores of California and the snow-clad
hills of the Sierra Nevada range, from
the cattle kings of the great middle '
lands to the coal barons and the petroleum
princes of the Middle States, go to
New York to spend their fortunes."
And they do extraordinary things. On
the one hand we find a man presenting a
near relative with a ie3idence and fixtutes
that cost in (ash $750,000. We hear of
a man's laying upon the pillow of his
sister's new-born baby $100,000 in
United States bonds as a birthday gift,
and again a coal-oil Johnny rolling, like
a scroll together, tangible evidence of
$1,000,000, in heavy interest-bearing
bonds, and tossing them into the lap of
a female friend. We are told of a modest
millionaire calling on his pastor on a
bright New Year's morning and handing
him a check drawn to bearer for the
princely sum of $100,000 to be distributed
according to the clergyman's
idea among the poor and needy. In this '*,1
great city where One family's wealth aggregates
$:i00,000,000; where a man,
struck with a quick flash from eternity,
dies, is buriea, and leaves to be distributed
among his sorrowing heirs the
extraordinary accumulation of $250,000,000;
in this city, where men, who have
lived here less than five years, are known
j by their associates and by them alone,
for the general public hasn't h'therto
I intn ttioi'r- /?nnKrIanr>A trt ll?
UUCU la tVV>U 1U W bUVii vvuuvtvuvvj ?w
worth, man after man, $2d,000,00p,
^40,000,000, $50,000,000, is it 6trange
that public interest is awakened and
general cariosity excitcd to know, first,
how these men got these almost fabulous
amounts of money, and second, what
they do with it??Ne/s York World.
"Anthropometry."
The plan of accurately measuring human
faculty indicates the physical and
mental adaptation of each individual and
offers a knowledge?f the person's capacity,
which, if early in life, should direct
intelligent parents or advisers to a more
judicious selection of vocation than that
often made. It also provides a means
for marking the stages of individual
growth, for the detection of abnormalities
of development in time to chcck
them, and for laying the -foundation foi
a rational education of the senses and tho
muscles. These are among the practical
advantages which aie expected to give
anthropometry great value. Mr. Francis
Galton, whoso work in this new fold attracted
much attention at the London
Health Exhibition a couple of years ago,
is now experimenting upon instruments . ' '
for determining the exact size of the
brain and the delicacy of the senses.
When these are completed, the demand
may be supplied, which has already
arisen in many large cities, for laboratories
for furnishing individuals, from
time to time, with accurate charts of
their condition and powers. It is believed
that in all stages of life the indications
of such charts must be of real
service.?Arlcamaw Traveler.
?
Traits of the Turks.
n T onr WnllnfB in t.hnVmirM of
V.1CUUU1 jUO U it uxuvv, ...v
a lecture on the Turks, said that jealousy
of each other is a distinctive characteristic
of the Turk. He may be relied
upon to keep his word, but the difficulty
is to induce him to make a promise.
When he does his word is as good as a
bond. He is not artistic in any sense.
He speaks in idioms or parables. His
libraries consist entirely of books of commentaries
on the Koran. The tendency
of his literature is to reflection, which
runs from reflection into frenzy. The
faith of the Turks has undergone no
change. They still believe that "God is
God and Mohammed is His Prophet."
The General saw many drunken men iD
Constantinople, but never one drunken
Turk. The love of the Turk is for children
and all dumb animals, and it is impossible
not to see the respect which they
have for women. The cultivated Turks,
old and young, are habitually courteous
among themselves and with strangers.
They arc nl?o the devoutest of people.
Thev are poor mariners, but courageoui
soldiers, and it will not do at this late
day to deny or underestimate their mili
tary valor.
Tne total number of negro Methodists
in the United States is 1,196,000, as follows
: Methodist Episcopal Zion,400,000;
African Methodist Episcopal, 391,000:
Methodist Episcopal, 22.">,000; Colored
Methodists, 155,000; all others combined,
35,00?.
- - -