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3? " AGRICULTURAL. *OPICS OP INTEREST RELATIVE TO FARM AND GARDEN. The Song of the Plough. / Round the rough hill, lad, I Over ridge and rut, Keen, lad, and clean, lad, i Let the bright share cut. With a strong team, and steady, Tr> work soon and lata. And firm hands, and ready, To keep the furrow straight. Up with weed and thorn, lad; Kill them from the root; Foes, lad, are these, lad, That choke the struggling shoot. That were rare matter For folk's jeers and scorns Should the sower scatter His seed among thorns. Break the hard crust. ladSun and rain and dew Must glow, lad, and flow, lad Must shine and filter through. Not a new shoot, lad, That feels the hard earth Will e'er strike a root, lad, But die in its birth. Hearts want the plough, lad; Every fault's a weed To turn up and burn up Ere we sow the seed; Down to deep places Score with (rod's might, r. Sow in prayer the graces, And tney shall thrive right. ?Little Folks. A Cure for Kicking Cow8. Tie the cow by the head, using a stout halter with a ring under the chin. Get 9quarely behind her?she cannot kick you then?and fasten a stout cord to the pastern of each hind foot. Run these cords forward through the halter ring, and back, convenient to your hand when milking. "When the cow lifts a foot to kick, pull the cord, thus drawing the foot towaras the jaw, and throwing her off her feet. When she gets up and attempts to kick again, repeat the pulling. Treat her kindly, but whenever she lifts a foot to kick, jerk the cord with all your might. Stout, wild heifers, that had never been fed before, or had a man's hand on them, except when they were branded were in this way broken in an hour, and never attempted to kick afterward.?American Affriculturist. (Apples for Stock. As food for stock, apples are better than roots, and are grown at less cost, and if every farm had its ten acres of orchard, and the farmer disposed of his surplus for winter feeding, giving a peck per day to every one of the larger animals, and to others in proportion, he would be little troubled by diseases among his stock. The varieties of fruits to be planted , may be chosen to suit various circumstances. For the market the popular winter kinds which can be kept safely until the spring or summer, are clearly the best, for this reason. But for the ' stock and for domestic consumption the j earliest to the latest kinds may be wisely . planted. For cows we would recommend Sweet Bough as a useful and wholly ! unobjectionable kind, free from acid and rich in sugar, and hence admissible as food for cows that are yielding butter. For swine we prefer the sweeter kinds. Hence we woula plant largely of Sweet Bough and Early Harvest for summer kinds; Twenty-ounce Pippin, Graven tein, Fall Pippin,and Porter for autumn kinds, and for winter, Tallman's Sweet, Seek-no-further, Baldwin, Spy, Greening, Bellflower, Spitzenberger, and many others that may be desired, but these certainly. No time should be lost in deciding what and when to plant, in securing the trees, and in preparing for the planting, and before the first of the next month arrives we would have the trees afely in the ground.?New York Times. CKall Atf A/1 A1A JL laUUU^ VT VUIH f MVlVfit* It is nineteen years, says Mr. E. S. Carmon, since we first began the advocacy, more earnestly pressed with each succeeding year, of planting corn in drills instead of in hills; of sowing fertilizers on the surface and merely harrowing them in; of surface cultivation?that is, shallow cultivation; and of keeping the land as level as possible?that is, not hilling up. There were then, as indeed there were many years previously, advocates of one or the other of these methods, but none who favored all simultaneously. It is gratifying to the Rural New Yorker that there are nowadays among those who have tried this method very few who would return to the old way, viz., ploughing under the manure or even fertilizer, planting in hills, hilliner ud and deen cultivation. until the corals laid up. Mr. Cannon also says: All farmers who have planted corn very early know that after the plants sprout and have grown two or three inches there usually comes a cold spell, and the plants stop growing and often assume a yellow, sickly appearance. Is this due, as is generally supposed, to the cold weather altogether, or to the fact that nitrification ceases? If inquiring farmers would sow a little nitrate of soda upon a small portion of the field when planting, thus supplying nitrogen in an immediately available form, it might appear that the "standstill" was due rather to a deficiency of nitrogenous food than to the cool weather.?New York World. Farm and Garden Notes. Leave plenty of potato to your potatoeye if you want strong plants. A good kitchen garden saves many J dollars in the way of food and doctor's bills. To properly keep straw and hay in stacks, the stacks must be so constructed as to shed water. Oats and corn mixed in equal weight make a good ration for fattening, especially in young sheep. Whenever the wheat fields and pastures are thrown up by the frost it is best to run a roller over the crop. ! When the pigs are coughing it indicates not only damp yards, but also that the roof of the shelter leaks. Scatter some of the finest, richest and best manure you have on the piece of ground intended for your onions. A liberal use of manure and good attention will give all the vegetables one can use from a small piece of ground. If you have not secured your garden seeds, do so at once. The selections should all be made during the winter season. It has been suggested that farm horses be sold by weight, in addition to other qualities, so as to induce farmers to raise larger and better horses. There is no one thing in farm improvement eliciting more attention than drainage, and there is perhaps no one operation of superior consequence. During rainy days, at this season, valuable work can be done at the farm in cleaning out stables, cow lots and hogIfe pens, and hauling fresh litter. Select corn and other seeds, put them one side, and be careful to have a double supply in case of accidents and to help tome less provident neighbors. k ?- - . In northern climates gardens and orchards should be screened from the cold winds by good hedges. The protection , thus afforded is much better than high walls. Even two or three feeds of cooked tur- j nips or potatoes each week is better than | to omit such food altogether. It is variety | that promotes health and keeps the stock in condition. Liquid alcoholic plastic, grafting, is made of one part by weight of beeswax, two parts of tallow, and four parts ol rosin, made at a low heat until thoroughly incoiporated. Sudden changes of the weather cause disease among fowls much sooner than long continued cold or warm weather. , Roup, a very contagious disease, is usu- ' ally due to dampness. Carriages and farm wagons might be made to last twice as long if only a few moments were spent each week during dry weather in tightening up the bolts that f Via ti?o rrr\n fnrrntKor uviu tuv m?^vu bv^vvuv*? Oats should soon be sown, even at the North. If the crop is treated with a topdressing composed of three parts of lanaplaster and one part of nitrate of soda, they will make a good crop. A colt once stunted never fully recovers from the effects. It is quite necessary then that colts be kept steadily growing during the winter, even if it requires special care and attention to do it. Give plenty of green food now while the ground is frozen. Cabbages, onions and steamed chopped hay are very good for stimulating the fowls, and it will greatly increase the laying of eggs. When the fibre of ramie is prepared, it is white, fine and silk-like, producing fabrics of great lustre. As yet, however, no machinery has been invented calculated to do the business well and economically. Should spring open early, and the grass start, do not be tempted to allow the stock to graze on it until it is well under growth. Trampling on young nnc mnrn ^amnrrn fVio n nrrn71'nrr if. ^ IUOO UVWQ rnviw wuuu closely. There seems to be an agreement among English journals that stabled cattle should be fed in the winter five times a day. That is the number of meals the thrifty owners generally adopt themselves. The American plan is feeding three times. All fowls that feather slowly are usually hardy. For instance, the Brahmas. It is owing to the fact that the drain on the system occasioned by quick feathering does not weaken them. Slow feathering while growing is indicative of hardiness. Cows need light, not only for their own health and comfort, but because good butter cannot be made from the milk of cows kept in dark stables. Air, light, cleanliness and warmth are four essentials of a cow stable where cows are kept for profit. If your garden plot is selected rake it over as soon as the weather will permit and burn up every vestige of grass and weeds, so as to destroy not only seeds, but insects. A covering of straw, leaves r\r- ctilL-e hnmpH nver thff rrronn^. will i " ' ? ?- O" ; be an advantage. Potato-growers should go over the field with a common harrow, running lengthwise of the rows, just before the plants push their noses through, and thus destroy all the weeds; afterward cultivate flat through the season, using only the common cultivator. An English journal gives the manner of arriving at the weight of a fat animal by measurement. Multiply the square of the girth by the length, and the products by .238. Take the length from the shouldertop to the tail-head, and the depth immediately behind the shoulder. F. D. Curtis says: "Most hog-pens are a disgrace and a nuisance. They foul the animals in them and poison the air for rods around. Something to absorb and deodorize the dropping, when the quarters arc narrow, Bhould be used?such as cut straw, sawdust, dry earth and a good sprinkling of common land plaster. It is claimed that 400 pounds of butter per annum is the average for Jersey cows; but this is a high estimate, considering the neglect given them on some farms. The cows do not average more than 300 milking days in the year, and to produce 400 pounds of butter every year calls for a product of nearly nine pounds of butter per week for each cow. Where corn is left out in the stook through the winter the greater part of its value is lost. Rains ana melting snows soak and drain the stalks of their nutriment, while inside the stook mice pursue their ravages without fear of their numerous enemies. A family of mice will easily destroy one-quarter of the value of the com in a stook through the winter. As an addition to manure or compost heap6, soapsuds are excellent, containing, as they do, not only the alkalies of soda and potash, but also effete and nitrogenous matter, so very fertilizing in their properties. Indeed, we might safely say that as fertilizers tne average soapsuus from the laundry arc worth more than the soap from which they are produced. An Explorers' Expedient. Not a few people have wondered how Dr. Junker, who ha* just returned to civilization from Central Africa, succeeded in passing safely through the hostile tribes in the lake region. The mystery is j explained at last, and Dr. Junker "dc- [ serves credit for inventing an ingenious ' method of reducing danger to a minimum in traversing unfriendly parts of Africa. Before going far from Albert Nyanza J he ascertained that there was no hope of his getting through the territory of the ! Waganda and one or two other hostile tribes without aid. If he was not mur- \ dered he would at least be detained as a ' prisoner. Now and then an Arab trading caravan was starting for the coast, but the Arabs were afraid to appear to befriend him as they could not afford to incur the ill will of the native kings. In this emercencv the novel idea oc- ! curred to Dr. Junker to sell himself as a slave to one of the Arab traders. A bargain was struck, and he ostensibly becams the property of the trader. The contract stipulated that the Arab, for the sum of 1,500 Austrian dollars, was to deliver the traveler alive at Zanzibar, where upon the presentation of the contract the money would be paid to him by a firm doing business there. It happened that Dr. Junker had with him an order written in Arabic by this firm, authorizing him to ! make any desirable arrangements with the j Arab traders of Central Africa. So Dr. Junker set out with his Arab ' caravan, which took him straight into the lion's den, or, in other words, into the chief town of M'wanga, the cruel despot I of Uganda. The chief trader represented that Junker was not his friend or traveling companion, but was his slave, whom he had bought of a negro tribe furthei north. In hi3 capacity as a slave Dr. Junker passed muster in the court ot King M'wanga, and he was permitted to go in peace with his owner.?New York Sun. We must do quickly what there is no hurry for, to be able to do slowly what demands haste. 1 : L? - KEY. DR. l'ALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE S SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: "Four Full Regiments." Text: And four thousand praised the Lord.?I. Chronicles, xxiii., 5; This day shall be unto you for a memorial.?Exodus, xii., 14. When week before last the communicant membership of this church passed into the four thousand, now reaching four thousand and forty-five, the first part of my text came to my mind, and I bethought myself what a grand thing it would be if the four thousand of our communicant membership would, like the four thousand of the ancient Temple, make it their lifetime business, to praise the Lord. Let them all take harp and timbrel and anthem and doxology! The allusion of my second text is to the Passover, which commemorated the deliverance of the Children of Israel on the night when the destroying angel sped through the land of Egypt, destroying the enemy but saving the Israelites, because on the doorposts of their dwellings was sprinkled the blood of a lamb. To-day we come to celebrate a grander Passover, all peril going away from our soul at the sight of the sprinkled blood of the Lamb of God on the aoor-posts of our hearts. Christ, our Passover, sacrificed for us. "This day shall be unto you for a memorial" The Sacramental Sabbath, whether it comes in an American church or an English chapel or a scotch kirk, is more impressive than any other Sabbath. Its light is holier, calmer, sweeter; its voices more tender; its touch is softer; its memories are more chastened The fruits of tho Christian life suddenly ripen, like orchards on the hill fronting the South. The wine of the Holy Sacrament seems pressed from the grapes of Celestial vineyards, and tho bread broken 6eems to drop from the hand of Him who parted the loaves for the five thousand. We walk to the church of God with more thoughtful face and with quieter step. The jubilant songs of other Sundays are struck through with pensiveness and are all a tremble with tears; and when, at the close of the service, at the door we shake hands, it is with a more cordial grasp, because we feel thrilling through our Dody, and mind, and soul the great doctrines of Christian brotherhood ; and our minds go back to our forefathers celebrating tho Sacrament in times of persecution in Scotland among the Highlands; commemorating the dying love of Christ, while they were pursued of their enemies, pouring the wine into rough wooden cups, dipping the waters of baptism from the mountain rock, until one day they heard the voices of their enemies coming up the hill, and the pastor cried out: "Oh Lord, the'Shepherd, have mercy on the sheep!" and" instantly there was a roaring heard as of great floods and sure enough & cloud had burst and there were great torrents running down the mountain side that whelmed their foes with sudden wrath. What a deliverance it was for them on that Sacramental dry! Oh, that on this Sacramental day the cloud of God's mercy might burst and our V>? rt*>/-? ahr p/Mila Ka earr/wl I TViio bLU3 uo nuouuou uuu vut ovuu mtvui auu i is the amethyst of days. This is the pearl of days. This is the diamond of days. This is the day of days. Among the ten thousand million ages of eternity the first Sabbath of March, 1887, will be to you significant and memorable, for "this day shall be unto you" for ever and for ever "a memorial." There is much in the scene of to-day to impress us because it is a time of reinforcement. I us id to'remark that if I ever lived to see our membership four thousand I thought I would be willing to say with one of old: "Now, Lord,lettest thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation." But I have changed my mind, and I never so much wanted to stay as now, so as to see them all enlisted for God and to watch their victories. What might they not accomplish in the way of making the world better if they were all baptized with a double portion of the Holy Ghost! Four thousand 1 That is four full regiments, as military men count a thousand to a regiment. I think not one hypocrite amongst them. Taken into the church sometimes in large numbers, but each one as carefully examined as to change of heart and evidence of regeneration as though he or she were the only one presenting himself or herself. Many of our former members have passed away* into the skies, and have joined the church triumphant, but we have four thousand and more fViA r?V*iirr?V? miUfonf. Tr? arms I Quit you like men! We want no reserve corps among them. Go into action all of you. Some will be officers and command. Some will make cavalry charge. Some will be sharpshooters. Some will stand guard. Some will be on picket duty. Many of you will belong to the rank and file. Let there be no stragglers, none off on furlough, not one deserter. With Christ for Commander-inchief, and the one-starred, blood-striped banner of manger and cross to lead the way, I give the order that the General in the war gave when, rising in his stirrups, his hair flying in the wind, he cried out till all the host heard him: 14 Forward! the whole line!' There is also something in such a scene to deeply impress one, because it rehearses a death scene. Now, you know, there is something very touching in such an incident. Though you are in a hotel and it is a stranger that is dying, how softly you move about the place, and u you come up to his couch it is with uncovered head. Even the voice of the jester is stopped, and when the eyes of that stranger are closed it is with emotion. But I am to tell you this morning of a death such as has never before or since occurred. When we die, we die for ourselves and the crisis is alleviated by all beneficent ministries. Bathings for the hands; bathings for the head; bathings for the feet; the light turned down low or set in just the right place: all the offices or affection about us when we come to die. But not so with Jesus. He died net for Himself, but He died in torment and He died for others. He might 1 J 1 Kn Uia liiivo muvcu aiuuuu ui ^uiuoiu iuouu wj nu own hand, an earthly potentate amid vineyards and olive groves sloping to the sea. Instead ofc being tossed in the fishing boat on Tiberius, He might have chosen a sunshiny day and a pleasant wave for the lake crossing. Instead of being followed by an unwashed rabble He might have charmed sanhedrims and universities -with His eloquence. Instead of a cross and a bunch of twisted brambles on His brow he might have died in the castle of a Roman merchant, the air bland with lilies and frankincense. But no; He died in torture; the good for the bad; the kind for the cruel; the wise for the ignorant; the divine for the human. Oh how tenderly we feel toward any one who has done a great kindness and perhaps at the imperiling of his own life! How we ought to feel toward Christ, the Captain of our salvation, on the white horse riding down our foes; but in the moment He made the victorious charge, the lances of death struck Him! There was a very touching scene among an Indian tribe in the last century. It seemed tliat one of the chieftains had slain a man belonging to an opposite tribe, and that tribe came up and said: "Wo will exterminate you unless you surrender the man who committed that criim." The chieftain who did the crime stepped out from the ranks and said: "I am not luraiu to cue, uut i xiavc a wue uhu. iuui children, and I have a father aged and a mother aged, whom I support bv hunting, md I sorrow to leave them helpless." Just as he am cnat ms old rather from behind stepped out and said: "He shall not die. I take his ?lace. I am old and well-stricken in years, can do no good. I might as well die. My days aro almost over. He cannot bo spared. Take me." And they accepted the sacrifice. Wonderful sacrifice! you say, but not so wonderful as that found in the Gospel, for we deserved to die, aye, we were sentenced when Christ, not worn out with years but in the flush of His youth, said: "Save that man from going down to the pit; I am the ransom. Put his burdens on my shoulders. Let His stripes fall on my back. Take my heart for His heart. Let me die that He may live." Shall it be told to-day in heaven that notwithstanding all those wounds, and all that blood, and all those tears, and all that agony, you would not acceDt Him I "Was it for crimes that I had done, He groaned upon the tree? Amazing pity, grace uuknown, And love beyond degree." There is no woe amid the surroundings of that scene that impresses mo more than that of His own mother. You need not point her out to me. I can see by the sorrow, the anguish, the woe, by the upthrown hands. That all meaus motuer. "uq," you say, "why didn't she go down to the foot of the hill and sit with her back to the scene? It was too horrible for her to look upon." Do you not know when a child is in ancuish or trouble it always makes a heroine , of a mother? Take her away, you I say, from tho cross. You cannot drag her away. She will keep on looking; as long as her son breathes she will stand there looking. . Oh, what a scene it was for a tender-hearted mother to look upon I How gladly she would - - : ' have sprung to hij reuer. It was her son. Her son! Jiow gladly she would have clambered up on the cross and hung there herself if her son could have been relieved. How strengthening she would have been to Christ if she might have come close by Him, and soothed Hnn! Oh, there was a good deal in what the little sick child said upon whom a surgical operation of a painful nature must be performed! The doctor said: ' 'That child won't live through this operation nniwgg you encourage him. Yo go in and get his consent." The father told him all the doctor said, and added: "Now, John, .will you go through with it? Will you consent to it?" He looked very pale, and ho thought a minute and said: "Yes, father, if you will hold my hand I will!" So the father held his hand, and led :tiim straight through the peril. Oh. woman, in your hour of anguish whom do you want with vou? Mother. Young man, in your hour of trouble, who do yon want to csnsole you? Mother. If the mother of Jesus could only have taken those bleeding feet into her lap 1 If she might have taken the dying head on her bosom 1 If she might have said to Him: "It will soon be over, Jesus; it will soon be over, and we will meet again and it will all be well." But no, she dared not come up so close. They would have struck her back with their hammers. The}' would have kicked her down th? hill. There can be no alleviation. Jesus must suffer and Mary must look. I suppose she thought of the birth-hour in Bethlenem. I ?uppvc*> alio tuuu^ut ui uic time vruouj WIMI her Doy in her bosom, she hastened on in the darlcness in the flight toward Egypt I suppose she thought of His boyhood, when he was the joy of her heart. I suppose she thought of the thousand kindnesses He had done her. not creaking hsr or forgetting her, ;even in his Jast moment, but turning to John and saving: "There is mother; take her with you. She is old now. She cannot help herself. Do for her just as I would have done for her if I had lived. Be very tender and gentle with her. Behold thy mother!" She thought it all over, and there is no memory like a mother's memory, and there is no woe like a mother's woe. I remark iigain: This is a tender scene because it is a Christian reunion. Why was it that,in the sessional meeting, when Tasked a woman if it were her son who sat next to her, making profession of his faith, she made no answer; du1 after a moment, trying to control her emotion, she burst into tears. I said within mys< If, she need not tell me the story. It is the old story of a prodigal got back. "The dead in alive again, and the lost is found." Oh, how many families there are that rejoice together to-day! Theee Christians during the rest of the year, perhaps, wil; not know much about each other. You go in o:ie circle of society, and this one travels in tuat patn, and tins one tne otner path; but to-day we all come on one platform, and we make one confession, and we cling to one cross, and we gaze upon one death anguish. It seems to me this morning not like a church but like a great family circle, and we join hands around the cross of Christ, and we say: "One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one cross, one Christ, one doxology, one heaven!" While I stand here it seems to me as if this communion table, which is only seven or eight feet long and three or feet wide, widens until all the Christians of our own denomination can sit at it; and still the table widens until all the Christians in this land of all names and denominations come and sit at it; and still the table widens until it bridges the sea, and Christians on the other side of the Atlantic come and sit at it; and still that table widens, until the redeemed of heaven mingle in the communion: Church militant; church triumphant "One army of the living God To His command we bow; Part of the host have crossed the flood,-. And part are crossing now." Again, my friends, this is an absorbing scene because it arouses so many precious memories. We look back and remember the days of our childhood when, long before we knew the meaning of the bread and the wine, we sat in the side pews on Sacramental days, or in the galleries, and looked as our fathers, mothers, and older brothers and sisters sat at the communion. Or, if we sat with them, we pulled at mother's dress and said: "What does that mean* "What is that in the cup ? What is that on the plate?" 0, yes; we remember those Sacramental days of our boyhood. We remember how much more tender father was on that day than on any other day. We remember how mother stood, and without saying one word looked at us, and her eyes full of tears. Oh, the dear old souls! They have gonel But until the day of our death we will associate this holy ordinance with their memory. And when our work on earth is done we will just go up and sit down beside them in the heavenly church, as we used to sit beside them in the earthly church, and then we will drink new wine in our Father's kingdom. "Behold the saints, beloved of God, Washed are their robes in Jesus' blood; Brighter than angels, lo, they shine; Their glories splendid and sublime." 1 remark again: This scene is tender to-day because it is a confessional. You and I reMA?v?k/vM i P o men V>orJ aT?r*/u1 UiCUJUCl bUC UIUIO nucu u a man uuu vi un us with anything like imperfection or wrong doing, we would have thrown ourselves back on our honor, and said: "You don't know who you are talking to. 1,'shall resent such an insult to my honor and integrity." We do not feel that way to-day. As we gaze upon the sacrifice of Christ, and think of what wa have been and what we have done, our hearts melt within us. "We se< one dying accursed for our sin, and we hear Him in his dying words, begging for our service, and yet how little service we have rendered. Of this short life we have begrudged God even a fragment. Alas! Alas! Some of us have lived out the most of our days, and yet we have rendered to God no earnest service. Sad, that we could have so maltreated Him on whom all our hopes depend. Oh. mv brethren and sisters in Christ, today join hands with me in a confession before Christ! If there be any place more humble than another, let us take it. If there bo any prayer more importunate than another, let us breath it. If there be any confession more bitter than, another, let us now weep it out. "Well might the sun in darkness hide Ar*/l cVni*. liia o-lnriAQ in When Christ, the mighty Maker, died For man, the creature's, sin." Onco moro: This is a tender and absorbing scene because it is anticipative. My brethren, we are not always going to stay here. This iii not our home. This is only the vestibule ol! the church in which, at last, wu expecl; to enter. After awhile our nameii will be taken off the church books, 01: there will be a mark in the margin to indi cate that we have gone to a better church and to a higher communion. Our Father is not going to let His children remain in tbs dust. The grave is no place for us to stay in. "The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall rise." The Lord shall doscend from heaven with a shout and the voice of the archangel, and we shall rise. The white robe in which they put us to our last slumber here must gel whiter. Oh, the reunion of patriarchs, and apostles, and prophets, and of alj our glorified kindred, and of that "greai multitude that no man can number!" Oui sorrows over. Our journey ended. It will bo as when kings banquet. And, just as this snow of winter melts, and the fields will brighten in the glorious springtime. so it will De witu all these cold sorrows of earth; they shall be melted away at last before the warm sunshine of heaven. "While I present these thoughts this morning doe? it not seem that heaven comes verv near to us, as though our friends, whom we thought a great way off, are not in the distance but close by? You have sometimes come down to a river at nightfall, and yon have been surprised how easily you could hear voices across that river. You shouted over to the other side of the river, and they shouted back. It is said that, when George Whitefield preached in Third street, Philadelphia, one evening time, his voice was heard cleat across to the New Jersey shore. When I was a little while chaplain in the army, I remember how at eventido we could easily hear the voices of the pickets across the Potomac, just when they were using: ordinary tones. Ami as we come to-day and stand by tho river ol Jordan that divides as from our friends wh: are gone, it seems to me we stand on one bank, and they stand on the other: and it is only a narrow stream, and our voicos go and their voices come. Hark! Hush! I hear distinctly what they say: "These are t'ley who come out of great tribulation, and had their robos washed and made white In the blood of the Lamb.' Still the voice comes across the waters, and I hear: "We hunger no more, we thirst nc more, neither shall the sun light on us, noi any heat, for the Lamb which is in the midst of tho throne leads us to living fountains ol water, and Go<l wipeth away all tears fron our eyes." The brightness of this festal hour is shad owed with the sorrow of a sister churel whose pastor is dying, or dead. Though youi politics and your religion may have been dif j ferent, I tliink you will all agree In say , /.. . 'J.*- , * /r' lug that when Henry Ward Beecher goes out of this life it will leave a vast vacuum in this city and in the land. For eighteen years we have been friendly neighbors. Six weeks after my arrival in this city as a pastor, in giving out a notice in his own church, he went clear out of his way to give me a most kindly welcome and to prophesy the happiness of my ministry in this city. On the day in which the church was dedicated to the service of Almighty God he hastened from his own church doors to join in the dedicatory service, and you remember what words of hope He uttered on that occasion. Autumn before last, you remember, he presided at the reception given me on my return from Europe, and you remember what generous words he uttered then. Only two or throe weeks ago he was present on a festal occasion at my house, and his departure from life is to me a persona, bereavement. He was the friend of tne slave! the friend of the outcast, the friend of the laboring man, the friend of the capitalist, the friend of the friendless, the friend of alL It would be hardly merciful for us to pray too ardently for his detention here, since physicians say that if he remains on earth it will be with destroyed intellect* and Henry Ward Beecher without genius, without wit, without brilliancy, without geniality, and without eloquence would bo a stranger to us alL So I have two wishes: The one that he may have a peacefid departure into the good land which God has provided for all who love Him, where there are no tears, and there shall ba no partings, and there can be no death. And my other wish is that upon his family and upon his church there may come the comforting, almighty grace of God. So grand march and dirge mingle to-day, gladness and grief, congratulation and deep sympathy. "In this dark world of sin and pain, We only meet to part again; . But when we reacn the heavenly shore We there shall meet to part no more. The hope that we shall see that day Should chase our present griefs away." . TEMPERANCE. Song of the Glass. With eyes inflamed and blear, With features hollow and wan, A drunkard sat in a riekftttv f-hair In bis attic, all alone; His person covered with rags, His hair a tangled mass, In a voice that told of soul's despair, He sang the song of the Glass; Drink, drink, drink, Till the eye grows frenzied and wild; Drink, drink, drink. Though it murders wife ana child; Drink, drink, drink, Ay, quail the poison-bowl, Though every drop it contains is death, Ana ruin to the soul. Deep hid in the sparkling cup A grinning demon glares, A deceptive Bend of beautiful form Concealing a thousand snares; Baware of his comely brow, Beware of his noxious breath, Tis the devil's sacrament he offers now, 'Twill lure you on to death? Death by the suicide's hand, Death by the murderer's steel, A maniacs cell, a hangman's cord, A grave in the Potter's Field. All this and more is bestowed, Ay, more than tongue can tell? An hour of bliss, an eternal abode, In the sulphurous fumes of hell; O fiends in human form! 0 men unworthy the name! Tis not a good you're dealing out, But ruin,-disgrace and shame? BU&mo lor Luo gray-nairea sire, Shame for the aged wife, Shame for the innocent, prattling babe, That follows him all through life. 0 men with franchise crowned! Awake from your sluggard's sleep; Hear ye not that wailing sound? Tis the nation's-wonion who weep? Weep for the thousands untold, Who lie *neath the rum-stained grass, While annually thousands renew their ranks And sing the Song of the Glass. Drink drink, drink, Till the eye grows frenzied and wild; Drink, drink, drink, Though it murders wife and child; Drink, drink, drink, Ay, quaff the poison-bowl; Though every drop it contains is death, And ruin to the soul. ?0. P. Tennant, in Temperance Advocate. The Scourge of our Country. The terrible curse and evil of liquorselling is so thoroughly imbedded in the customs of society and the depraved appetites of the people, that we find its blasting, blighting, and dcbaucliing influence controlling every department and all sections of our country. It is a mightier question than all other questions combined, debasing our manhood, debauching our womanhood,! destroying our children, surging backward and forward, going down to the lowest deptlis of degradation, ltut you cannot settle i this question by any magic wand of gentleness or persuasion. The issue will re. quire all the moral force of the people combined in an unbroken phalanx of determined energy and enthusiastic zeal, ' before we can conquer this formidable j enemy of our race. His intrenchments j are dug deep and numerous. The bar: riers to be overcome will challenge all our moral heroism. The mountains of difficulty will be found full of sharp jutting crags that will tower over our heads ana seem to aeiy our most earnest endeavors, but with God and the heroism born of faith and desperate determination, we will not be dismayed; our course will be upward and onward. Prohibition ,! will be our beacon light, our star of hope 1 and expectation. The grand, final, and triumphant fiat of the people forProhibi1: tion will cause a shout of victory to be , echoed all over the land.?DemorcsVs I Monthly. i Alcohol la The Kitchen. ' I am not sure but every crusade against ; stroDg drink in the house should begin | in the kitchen, and end in the drawing1' room. At any rate, when you consider '! the subject culinarily, you rcach, by i consent, a vital point in your treatment J | of the whole question. What men eat i has a great deal to do with what they j drink. More than this, tlicir eating may I be such as to directly create and cultivate j the habit of drinking intoxicating liquors. | It is plain that if the fumes and taste of alcohol are regularly, or even frequently, j recognized in the food' of the people, the i desire to take it " straight," as the topers have it, will be perfectly natural and unavoidable. Plain, 6imple, nutritious j cookery will never crcate or foster an i appetite for strong drink. Mixing pudi dings and pastry, and the variety of ; dishes which might be recounted, witn > alcoholic fluids, certainly will.?Jama [ H. Kellogg. Before The People. Texas Okegon Michigan , Tennessee West Virginia. p The above are the States in which pro1 hibitory amendments arc now to be voted - on by the people. Since last week the * quartette has become a quintette by the - addition of Texas. " Our God is raarch* iag on."?Voice. RELIGIOUS READING. A Silent Prayer. In the still all the music lies unheard; In the rough marble beauty hides unseen; To make the music and the beauty, needs The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen. Great Master, touch us with thy skilful band; Let not the music that is in use die! Great Sculptor, hew and polish us; nor let, Hidden and lost, thy form within us lie! Spare not this stroke! do] with us as thou wilt! Let there b3 nought unfinished, broken, marred; Complete thy purpose, that we may become Thy perfect image, thou our God and Lord. ?[Bonar. One Style of Christian. Now Lydia Crano was not naturally inclined to be querulous or selfish; she had been duly converted in the progress of a revival in London, and joined the church during Parson Beach's lifetimeShe read her Bible daily; said her prayers?I use the phraise advisedly?and was a punctual attendant on all the means of grace. She was the head and front of the church 6ewing-society, and secretary 01 ine r oreign mission uircie, yet in the living of her life she had become at the age of thirty-five, fretful, self-centered, opinionated and domineering; but perfectly certain that she was an exemplary Christian. Charity, sympathy, tenderness, do not grow in such a solitude as hers; it is not good for man or woman to be alone; and if to be a Christian is to wear the image of Christ, a3 the gospel seem? to itiiply, there was very little obvious likeness in Miss Lydia to the Master whose name she wore. Yet she was a thoroughly honest woman, anxious above all things to be right; ready to give to every "object" that impelled the long handled contribution boxes, with deacons at the other end, through every slip on every other Sunday, ii i i ? i - i _ j j r__ mougn sue naunot even u, mauwuru iur tho beggar at her door; for begging implied "shiftlessness" and that was unpardonable.?[Sunday Afternoon. Living for Christ. "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."?Phil. 1., 21. Tho words of the Apostle are certainly very singular: "For me to live is Christ." How is it that to live is Christ?" If the great Apostle could say these words, may you and 1? Was the Apostle's life to represent Christ? Was he in some sense to be a Christ on earth? If so, may you and I, in our lives, represent Christ? May we be to the world, in some sense, a Christ? Is it possible for us to have such a grand conception of life? its mission, its duties, its responsibilities? There is a sense in which the Christian may be said to show forth Christ in his life. "For to live is Christ," further signifies, that, in living we receive Into our hearts the Spirit of Christ. k "If any man have not the Spirit of Christ," the Apostle saya, "he is none of His." If we belong to Christ wo have the Spirit of Christ?that is, we have a mind like to His mind. Was He amiable? So are we. Was he meek? So are we. Was He patient? So are we. Could Ho bear with the perversity of others? So can we. Cou.d He bear to bo reproached without becoming angry? So cau we. Was He long suffering? So are we. Could He endure persecutions unmoved? So can wc?that is if we are Christ's; for all true Christians have in them the mind that was in Him. It is true, with this mind, wo have temptations, and we have peculiarities of dis position, which those temptations influence; wc are liable to be thrown off our guard; we need constant watchfulness; but just so far as we are Christ's, we have the mind that was in Christ. A<?ain " for us to live is Christ." is this? that we show to tho worid how Christ would live, how Christ would labor, and toil, and suffer, and act were He in our place. Thus we show the world that we are His. "We stand up before the world to point out to the world what is Christlike; what are Christ's dispositions as manifested to that world. If then, you arc set in this world, to show to all around you how Christ would have lived, in what a responsible place has Christ placed you! What a vast responsibility rests upon you if you stand to represent him in your temper, words and actions! I think we may proceed still further, and say that, in a modified sense, every -r 1 - ?'? wnlofiAn nf OhriQfr. one 01 us smuus ju iuc iviativu v* to society. I say in a modified sense. Have you ever marked the Apostle's language: "Now, then, we are ambassadors for Christ; we pray you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God?"' That is, the Apostle was standing in Christ's stead; was talking Christ's words; was pleading as though Christ did plead. Now, Christ places us in this position. Wo are in Christ's ?tcad. AVe stand before the world to exhibit Christ's loveliness; to do Christ's work; to live Christ's life 011 and on. lie hasgoucup to heaven. He sends His Spirit into the world. The Spirit dwells in Christian hearts, works out through Christian agencies to accomplish the good that is accomplished. And while we are doing this, it is Christ that is working in us to will and to do for His own glory; and we Htork amid the world iu Christ's stead, and stand before thj world to represent Chiist's person. \ ; The amount of alcoholic liquor sent to ! Africa from the United States is, says j Demorcst, one of the most abominable ! outrages ever perpetrated on an unoffending people, and this, too, by a professedly Christian people. Shame on such unblushing villainy under the garb of religion. Count Tolstoi, the distinguished Rua? Russian author, under the title of KThe Invention of Whisky," has sounded an alarm against tho devastation wrought by alcohol io that CQURtiy. POPULAR SCIENCE 1 It has been found that mines can b9 .1 lighted by electricity for one-half whatt 1 it cost to light them by the old system " of oil and candles. Besides there is in< , electricity comparative immunity from 1 In British experiments last year cop- J peras proved a valuable fertilizer for many crops. An increase of 400 pounds fl in the potato yield of an eighth of an 1 acre resulted from treament with focr- 1 teen pounds of copperas. ' It gave as 1 good a crop of turnips as did guano and I dissolved Dones, and nearly doubled the | yield of a field of hay. Good results I were also obtained with onions, beans, | and mangold-wurzel. jM Sohneke states that the electricity j which is discharged during a thunder- J storm is produced by the friction of water and ice, that is,, that the ice is electrified by friction of water. Jusfcte- ' fore a thunder-storm water-clouds B (cumuli) and ice-clouds (cirri, cirrostrati) fl appear simultaneously in the sky. The w friction of these particles of ice and water is a sufficient cause of the electricity ' f which is generated. It would appear that gas will furnish | more light when employed to drive an . WM electric motor than when used directly as j an illuminant. In a paper read before m one of the London engineering societies vJ it was mentioned, as the result of many investigations, that 1000 feet of gas used to produce incandescent electric lighting I by means of a gas engine will give twice as much light as if emyloyed as an ilia- M minaat in the ordinary way. H The sun has an apparent motion among the stars from west to east along M the circle callcd the Ecliptic. It 4 Vioo olort fVima rool mrvf inno firat QT uao aiov/ buivw ivai luvbivud uiuvj vuv ?a~ ' 'IrZSH ial, the sun completing its revolution in ; about twenty-five ana a half days; sec* j ond, a motion about the centre of grav- j ity of the whole solar system, which is, J however, al Vays within the sun's volume; M third, progressive motion in space to- I ward the constellation Hercules at the I rate of 150,000,000 miles a vear. ' I Mr. John Murray recently delivered be- I fore the Royal Society of Edinburg a I lecture upon the total rainfall of the I globe and the relation it bears to the discharge of rivers. He shows that drainage I may belong to either inland or ocean I drainage, the area of the first being 11,* J 480,350 square miles and the latter 88,329,750 square miles, after deducting those barren areas which have less than 1 ten inches of rainfall annually. The rain I precipitated annually upon the inland area '/J amounts to not less than 2,243 cubic J miles, and that upon the ocean drainage I area not less than 6,569 cubic miles. The 1 total weight of matter carried by this 1 means to the ocean is something more 7. 9 than 5,00#, 000,000 tons each year. 1 "What is right (or left) handedness?" " Dr. Daniel Wilson, of Toronto, has en- | deavored to demonstrate before the Royal jj Society of Canada its cause. His con- Jj| elusion is that left-handedness is due to the extraordinary development of the 1 right hemisphere of the brain, and vice- 1 versa. Dr. Wilson has studied this diifi- 1 cult matter from various standpoints, j and finally concludes as above. He is J himself left-handed, and so confident is jj he in his theory that he expressed in his a paper the desire that on his death his own brain be examined "for further settling this physiological puzzle. If my ideas are correct I anticipate as a result of its examination that the right hemisphere VraaBB will not only be found to be heavier than M the left, but that it will probably be marked by a noticeable difference in the -.Srjiffifl number and arrangement of the convolutions." ' -^#1 The Cherokee Indian. \^*gSrw There is not a jail anywhere withia the y^JSI bounds of the Cherokee reservation. No country can ever be at a high point of civilization in which there are no jails and nobody does anything to need them. We have always been taught to look on Damon and Pythias as one of the most " beautiful stories of friendship and honor. I Listen to this from the Cherokee Indian. ... J and ask yourself if it does not give you J -?? ? -r v:- a % t*% .^_31 some ainereni opimuu ui mm. au *u- dian was shot for killing another man some time ago. A stranger in the territory happened to be with the Sheriff when the news that the appeal had been - >-n? lost and the sentence must be carried out "Yes," said the Sheriff, "I'll have to have the poor fellow shot." "Where is he? I don't see any jail." "He's at home. ' :?? "A prisoner under sentence of death at home!" Certainly; he's out on his word. He's been at home three months. We've got no jails here." - ^ "Well, you don't expect him to come > and be shot?" V "Certainly I do. He'll be here tomorrow. I sent for him." And the merry stranger laughed. Next ;; day he was on hand to witness the sheriffs discomfiture. But a few minutes before the hour a cavalcade appeared in the distance. It was headed by a manly young - - * j- 11.:? w.--. ,i!j in man ana 11 was aiauc up ui xuaxu^uvu. t._ They rode gallantly up, and the young I Indian surrendered himself up to the j sheriff. He went about among the crowd, I shook hands with everybody, gave one ^ I his saddle, another his horse, and so on, >.A until he had disposed of all he possessed. Then he selected his bosom friend as the man to fire the fatal shot, an honor his bosom friend esteemed highly. He took his place, pinned a piece of blue ribbon over his heart, the point the bullet was '-^3 to take, and stood up like a man. A few <1 seconds, there was a shot, and he was dead. I wonder if there is nothing at all the white man can learn from the Cherokee Indian.?San Francisco Chronicle. . , The Heel Fly. Mr. J. T. Hill, of Red Fork, Indian T., one of the oldest cattle shippers in the country, speaking of the heel fly and the way it affects cattle, said to a 8t. Louis Olobe-Democrat reporter: "The ^ heel fly is au insect closely resembling the ; t yellow horsefly in everything except color, the former insect being black. They sometimes appear in great swarms among the herds, and sting the cattle in the leg or heel, depositing eggs under the skin. This would seem a small matter, but it *?j I sets the cattle perfectly wild, and it is impossible to hold a herd when this fly is about. They rush around as if mad under the intolerable torture, and I have seen ^ them spring over a forty foot bank in order to get into muddy water, which j seems to be the only thing that can give ! them relief. They lose flesh rapidly when the fly is bad, "and Jreadily succumb to < the slightest indisposition. This fly is a pest for which there seems to be no remedy." Knew a Thin? or Two. "There," said Filtrip to his friend V'-SB Dilby, "there is a man who has a knowl- I edge of the fitness of things!" I "Why, yes," said Dilby, "he has an in- 1 telligent fare?what is he?" I "Oh, he's my tailor," answored Filtrip i eyeing his new suit complacently.?De+ I I troit FrKlPraa, I