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REV. Dl!. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN* DIVINE'S SUNDAY SE11MOX. Subject: "The Facts Proved." Text: '' We are witnessed?Acts xv., In the daj*s of George Stephenson, the perfecter of the locomotive engine, the scientists proved conclusively that a railway train could never be driven by steam power successfully and without peril; but the rushing express train from Liverpool to Edinburgh. And from Edinburgh to Loudon, have made all the nation witnesses of the splendid achievement. Machinists and navigators proved conclusively that a steamer could never cross the Atlantic ocean; but no sooner had they successful^' proved the impossibility of such an undertaking than the work was done, and the passengers on the Cunard and the Inman ana tho National and the White Star lines are witnesses. There went up a guffaw of wise laughter at Professor Morse's proposition to make the lightning of heaven his errand boy, and it was proved conclusively * * * '* *' ' * ' ? 1? *. Kiif nAwr Uiac tae tning couia never u? uvuc, uumu.. | all the news of the wide world by Associated I Press, put in your hands every morning and I night, nas made all nations witnesses. So in the time of Christ it was proved con- | clusively that it was impossible tor him to . rise from the dead. It was shown logically I that when he was dead he was dead, and the ' heart and the liver and the lungs having i ceased to perform their offices, the limbs } would be rigid beyond all power of friction or arousal. They showed it to be an absolute absurdity that the dead Christ should ever get up alive; but no sooner had thev proved this than the dead Christ aros.?, and tne disciples beheld him, heard his voice and talked with him, and they took the witness stand to prove that to be true which the wiseacres of the day had proved to be impossible; tho record of the experiment and of the testimony is in the text: '"Him lmth God raised from the dead, whereof we are witnesses." Now, let me play the skeptic for a moment. "There is no God'' says the skeptic, for I have never seen Him with my physical eye sight Your Bible is a pack of contradictions. "There never was a miracle. Lazarus was not raised from the dead, and the water was never turned into wine. Your religion is an imposition on the credulity of the ages." There is an aged man moving in that pew as though he would like to respond. Here are hundreds of people with faces a little Hushed at the^e j announcements, and all through this house j there is a suppressed fe ling which would like j to speak out in behalf of the truth of our glorious Christianity, as in the days of the text, crying out: "We arc witnesses:" The fact is, that if this world is ever ! brought to God, it will not be through argu- I * ment, but through testimony. You might ! cover the whole earth with apologies for j Christianity and learned treatises in defense I of religion?you wouiu hul lumn t a wui. Lectures on the harmony betweenscience and j religion are beautiful mental discipline, but ' have never saved a soul, and never will save a | soul. Put a man of the world and a man of i the church against each other and the man of I the world will in all probability got the I triumph. There are a thousand tilings in our J religion that seem illogical to the world, and . f always will seem il.'ogical. j Our weapon in this conflict is faith, not logic; faith, not metaphysics: faith, not pro- j fundity; faith, not scholastic exploration, j But then, in order to have faith, we must j have testimony, and if 500 men. or 1,000 men, ) or 500, CO'J men, or 5,000,000 men get up and tell me that they have felt the religion of i Jesus Christ a joy, a comfort, a help, an in- j spiration, I am bound as a fair minded man j to accept their testimony. I want just now to put before you three propositions, the trutn of which 1 think this audience will at- J 'test wicn overwiiuiinwx uiuuumuj'. The first projxwition is : We are witnesses , that the religion of Christ is able to convert ! a soul. , The Gospel may have had a hard time to conquer us, we may hiave fought it back, but we were vanquished. You say conversion is only an imaginary thing. 1V"e know better. "Weare witnesses." There never was so great a change in our heart and life on any other subject as this. People laughed at the missionaries in Madagascar becanse they J preached ten years without one convert; but there are 33,000 con verts in Madagascar today. People laughed at Dr. Judson, the Baptist misHonarj*, because he kept on preaching in Burmah five yenrs without a sinjrle convert: but there are :J0,<100 Baptists in Burmah to-day. People laughid at Dr. Morrison, in ! ft.r nrfat-hine" there seven vears with- I out a single conversion: bat there are 15,000 Christians in China to day. People laughed at the missionaries for preaching at Tah'ti for fifteen years without a single convei-sion, and at the missionaries for preaching in Bengal seventeen years without a single conversion; yet in all those lands there are multitudes of Christians to-day. But why go so tar to find evidences of the Gospel's power to save a soul < " VV'c are wit- , nesses." We wire so proud that no man could have humbled us; we were so hard that no earthly power could have nielttd us; angels of God w ere all around about us, they could not overcome us; but one day, perh ips \ at a Methodist anxious seat, or at a Presbyterian catechetical lecture, or at a burial, or on horseback, a fower seized us, and made rs {etdown, and made us tremble, and made us neel, and made us cry for mercy, and we tried to wrench ourselves away from the grasp, but we could not. It flung us flat.aml 1. ?c wnen we aros? ?e ?eio u.-< uium uian^vu Gourgie, the heathen, who went into a prayer meeting with a dagger and a gun to disturb the meeting and destroy it, but the next dty was found crying: ''Oh. my great sins! Oh! my great Saviour!" and for eleven vean ?reached th?; :rosnel of Christ, to \?t V> mountaineers, the last words on his Hying lips being '"Free grace!'' Oh, it was free grace. ic A mart n-liA WOO fnr tATl VPflfS fl JLUC1C A3 a muit ??uv ?v?w &w. v>_ j . _ hard drinker. The dreadful appetite had sent down its roots around the palate and the tongue, and on down until they were interlinked with the vitals of the body, mind and soul ; but he has not taken Any stimulants for two years. What did that? Not temperance societies. Not prohibitory laws. Not moral suasion. Conver sion did it. "Why," said one upon whom the great change had come, ''sir, I feel just as though I were somebody else." There is a sea captain who swore all the way from New York to Havana, and from Havana to San Francisco, and when he was in port he was worse than when he was on the sea. What power was it that washed his tongue clean of profanities and made him a psalm singer? Conversion by the Holy Spirit. There are thousands of people in this house to-night who are no more what they once were than a waterlily is nightshade, or a morning lark is a vulture, or day is night. Now, if I should demand that all those people in this house who have felt the converting power of religion should rise, so far from being ashamed, they would spring to thnir foat. with more alacrity than thev ever 6prang to the dance, the tears mingling with their exhilaration as they cried: "We are witnesses!" And if they tried to sing the old Gospel hymn they would break down with emotion by the time they got to the second line: Ashamed of Jesu?, that dear friend On wlioiu my h ipes of heaven depend? No! When I blush be this my ?hatne, That 1 no more revere his name. Again I remark that "we are witnesses" or the Gospel's power to comfort. When a man has trouble the world comes in and says: "Now get j our mind off this; go out and breathe the fresh air; plunge deeper into business." What poor advice. Get your mind off of it! when everything is upturned with the bereavement and everything reminds vou of what you have iWn. Get your mind off of it! They might as well advise you to stop thinking. You cannot stop thinkine. and you cannot stop thinking in that direction. Take a walk in the fresh air! Why, along that very street or that very road she once accompanied you. Out of that grass plot she plucked flowers, or into that show window she looked, fascinated, saying: "Come, see the pictures." Go deeDer into business! Why, she was associated with all your business ambition, ana since she has gone you have no ambition left. Oh, this is a clumsy world when it tries to comfort a broken beart! lean build a Corliss engine, I can paint a Raphael's '-Madonna," I can play a Beethoven's ''Symphony" a? ensilv as this world can comfort a broken | heart. " And yet you havo been comforted. How was it done i Did Christ come to you and say : " Uet your miud of this ; go out and breathe the fresh air ; plunge deeper into business ?" No. There was a minute when he came to 3'ou?perhaps in the watches of the night, perhaps in your place of business, perhaps along the street?ami he breathed something into your soul that gave peace, rest, infinite quiet, so that you could take out the photograph of the departed 0:13 and look into the eyes and the face of the dear one, and say: "It is all right; she is better off; I would not call her back. Lord, I thaak thee that thou hast comrortea my poor heart." There a^e Christian parents here who are willing to testify to the power of this Gospel to comfort. Your son had just graduated ? i ? ?1n.. I ...no fr/\mcr intn Ironi scnooi or couegc an 4 6w6 ??business, and the Lord took him. Or your daughter had just graduated from the young ladies' seminary and you thought she was eoinc to be a useful woman and of long life; but the Lord took her and you were tempted to say: "All this culture-of twenty years for nothing:" Or the little child came home from school with the hot fever that stopped not for the agonized prayer or for the skillful physician, and the little child was taken. Or the babe was lifted out of your arms by some quick epidemic, and you stood wondering why God ever gave you that child at all, it' so soon ho was to take it away. And yet you are not repining, you are not tretrui, you are not fighting against God. What lia-i enabled you to stann an ug trial? "Oh," you say, "I took the medicine that God gave* my sick soul. In my distress I threw myself at the feet of a sympathizing God, and w hen'I was too weak to pray or to look up, he breathed into me a peace that I think must be the foretaste of that Heaven where there is neither a tear, nor a farewell, nor a grave." Come, all ye who have been out to the grave to weep there?come, all ye comforted souls, get up off your knees. Is there no power in this Gospel to soothe the heart? Is there no power in this religion to quiet the worst paroxysm of grief! There comes up an answer from comforted widowhood and orphanage and childlessness, saying: "Aye, aye, we are witnesses!" Again, I remark that we are witnesses of the lact that religion has power to eive composure in the last moment. 1 slisll never lortret the first time I confronted death. We went across the cornfields in the country, x i was led by my father's hand and we came to | the farm house were the bereavement had . come, and we saw the crowd of wagons and j carriages; but there was one carriage that especially attracted my boyish attention, and it had black plumes. Isaid: "What's that?, what's that- Why those black tassels at the top*" and after it was explained to me, I was lilted up to look upon the bright face of an aged Christian woman,who three days before had parted in triumph. The whole scene made an impression 1 never forgot. Ill our sermons and in our lay exhortations we are very apt, when we want to bring illus- ' trations of dying triumph, to go back to some distinguished personage?to a John Knox or a Harriet Newell. But I want you for wit- 1 nesses. I want to knew if you have ever seen any- . bins to make you believe that the religion of > Christ can give composure in the liual hour. ' Now, in the courts, attorney, jury and judge will never admit mere hearsay. They de- j inand that the witness must have seen with his own eyes, or heard with his own ears, and ?r*i ? l g\t' Voll I so i am critii;iu iu mj cauu.uu^.v,. now, and I want to know whether you have ' seen or heard anything that makes you bulk* ve that the religion ot Christ gives comfort in the tinal hour. "Oli, yes,v you say, "I saw my father ami ' ' mother depart, 'there was a great difference iu their deathbels. Standing by the one we felt more veneration. By the other there was < more tenderness." Before the one you bowed perhaps in awe. In the other case you felt as if you would like to go along with her. How did they feel in that last hour? How did they seem to act? Were they very much frightened: Did they take hold of this world with both hands as though they did not want to give It up' uOh, no," you say, "no,l renieni- ; ber as though it were yesterday; she had a kind word for us all, and there were a few 1 mementoes distributed among the children, \ and then she told us how kin J we must be to nnr father in his loneliness, and then she 1 kissxl us goodby aud went asleep as a child in ' a cradle.' J What inadi her so composed? Natural 1 courage? "No," you say; "mother was very j nervous. When the carriage iucliued to the side of the road she would cry out. She was ' always rather weakly." What, then, gave , her composure/ Was it because she did not j care much lor you and the pang of parting 1 was not great? "Oh," you say, "she snowerd 3 upon us a wealth of alfection; no mother ever loved her children more than mother loved s us. She showed it by the way she nursed us when we were sick, and she toiled for us until ( her strength gave out." What, then, was it j that gave her composure in the last hour? ! Do not hide it. Be frank and let me know. 1 "Oh," you say, "it was because she was so ( good. She made the Lord her portion, and j she had faith that she would go straight to ! glory, and that we should all meet her at last ! at the foot of the throne." Hero are people who say: "I saw a Chris- ] tian brother die, and he triumphed." And J some one else: "I saw a Christian sister die, and she triumphed.'' Some one else will say: 1 "I saw a Christian daughter die and she ' ' -.11 1,1 VO o ?i?i 1 criurupiieu. vumc, an j o > uv uM.v uw.. j ^ the last moments of a Christian, and give i testimony in this cause on trial. Uncover ] Sour heads, put your hand on the old family ible from which they used to read the promises, and promise in the presence of , high heaven that you will tell the truth, the j whole .truth, and nothing but the truth. With what you have seen with your own eyes, and from what you have " heard with your own ears, is there power in this liospel to give calmness and triumph in j tho last exigency ! The response comes from ' all sides, from young, and old, and middle HqU'I i ?? C U1U n 1VUW3C5 . j You see. my friends, 1 have not put before ' you an abstraction, or a chimera,or anything ' like guess work. I present you alfidavits of the best men and women, living and dead. Two witnesses in court will establish a fact. , Here are not two witnesses but thousands of ' witnesses?on earth millions of witnesses, and 5 in heaven a great multitude of witnesses that ! no man can number, testifying that there is ' power in this religion to convert the soul, to ' erive comfort in trouble, and to afford coin posure in the last hour. If ton men shouM come to you when you are sick with appalling sickness, and say J they had the same sickness, and took a I certain medicine, and it cured them, you 1 would probably take it. Now, suppose ten other men should como u,, and say: " Wo ] don't believe there is anything in that mcdi- j cine." Well," 1 say: "have you over tried it< "No. I never tried it, but don't believe I there is anything in it." Of course you discredit their testimony. The skeptic may come and say: "There is no power in yorr religion!" "Have your ever tried it?" "No, 1 no." "Then avaunt!" Let me take the t?s- i timony of the millions of souls that have b< en convei ted to God and comforted in trial end solaced in the last hour. We will take their testimony as they cry: "We are witnesses!" Some time ago Prof. Henry, of Washington, discovered a new star, and the tidings sped by submarine telegraph, and all the observatories were watching for that new star. Oh, hearer; looking out through the darkness of your soul, canst thou see a brisrht lieht beaming on thee? "Whore?" you say, "Where? How can I fin I it.'" Look along by the line of the cross of the Son of God. Do you not see it trembling with all tenderness and beaming with all hope ; It is the Star of Bethlehem. Deep horror then my vitals froze, Death struck, I ceased the tide to stem, When suddenly a star arose? It was the Star ot Bethlehem. It is easier for you all to become Christians than it is to stay away from Christ and heaven. When Mme. Sonta^ began her mucical career she was hissed off tne stage at Vienna by the friends of her rival, Amelia Steininger, who had already begun to decline through her dissipation. Years passed on, and one aay Mine. Sontag, in her glory, was riding through the streets of Berlin, when she saw n littlo child leading a blind woman, and she said: "Coiue here, my little child, come here. Who is that you are leading by the hand;" And the little child replied: "That's my mother: that's Amelia Steininger. She useu to bo a great singer, but she lost her voice, and she cried so much about it that she lost her eyesight." "Give my love to her," said Mme. Sontag, "and tell her an old acquaintance will call on her this afternoon." The next week in Berlin a vast assemblage gathered at a benelit for that poor blind woman. and it was said that Mme. Sontag sang that night as she had never sung before. Anu she took a skilled occulist, who in vain tried ^o give eyesight to the poor blind woman. ? '1 J A 1:_ UUtU 1110 liny ui/iiueim oitsuiuiKcj uuiw lime. Son tag took care of her and nor daughter after her. That was what the queen of song did for her enemy. But, oh! hear a more thrilling story still. Blind, immortal, poor and lost?thou who, when the world and Christ were rivals for thy heart, didst hiss thy Lord away?Christ comes now to give thee sight, to give thee a hoine. to give thee heaven. With more than a Sontag's generosity he comes now to meet your need. With more than a Sontag's music he comes to plead for thy deliverance. Thankful for Small Favors. " No. Algernon, I cannot marry you. Papa w.ll not allow it." '' W by not '{" " Because he says you are an actor." " Your father is much kinder than th? pre=s."? Wwhiwjton Critic. TEMPERANCE. The Drunkard. What object is this lying stretched on the ' road? Can this be a man in the image of God? A man highly gifted; pride, honor and power. To will and to reason his God-given dow'r? Hut mark how lie's fallen, the victim of lust, His pride and his reason alike in the dust. The front of his waistcoat's all glossy with dirt. And horrible vermin crawl over his shirt; j ii rags ana in taicers nis trousers remain? i Fa to hod over and over again and again. In tatters the jacket still clings tolas back, And gray is the hair which once was jet black? i His shoes, string'ess and shabby, gaping with many a rent. The soles and the uppers on parting are bent, And his stockingloss feet are plainly seen, Protruding from where the uppers have ( been. I Brimlos the hat which he wears on his head, He's a being to whom all decency's dead. He'd barter his soul for tho means to get drink; H ? is what he seems, a traveling sink. 11 is features are blotched, weather-beaten and j scarr'd For the best of his life he has fought and drank bard, 1 And he seems an old man; though he barely J has passed > The spring-time of life, he is di ifting fast A-down life's stream, a wretched worn-out man. Vet he will struggle and strive and plan Strong drink to obtain, to lighten his care And to brighten the darkness of his despair. Yet 'twas not always thus with him I ween; 1 His soul once knew a sunny spot of green, t Ere broken hopes and aspirations blighted, i And fond, deep love and passion slighted, 1 Threw him from his pedestal of self-respect, t Desperate, despairing, ruined and wrecked. ] Yet ho once was a handsome, dark-haired i boy, 1 1 A proud father's pride, a fond mother's joy, 1 i And ho grew up to manhood, manly and I ^ brave, | t And no one dream'd ho would e'er become | 1 slave 1 l'o the terrible demon, the enslaver of men, I i Who'd engulf the -whole world in his sliiry i den; 1 But he was tempted! he fell, as thousands r will fall, i And the demon with glee will fetter them all. j Slowly he sanL, !swer and lower each day, Ln the pride of his youth to the demon a c prey, n Constantly drinking, a drunkard at last. f 1'he respect of the world's but a dream of tbe past; Strong drink to obtain he'd play ev'ry craft; He'd barter bis soul for the soul-scathing draught, r riie draught of soul poison?manhood's night- c simile? '] l'o blight and to wither, to curse and de- j grade; 'i ro shrivel the talents and genius drag down, ^ \nd bring to one level the peer and the T clown. t ?Joseph Maize, in Labor Tribune. " What "Would We Do With Our Grain?" ] "I am a temperance man," said a well-to-do a farmer friendly discussing with the writer, t "and teach my boy not to drink, but I am op- t posed to prohibition. Stop," said he, -'the ii making of whiskey in our State and there s would De no market for corn; it would not be f five cents a bushel." He failed to see that his t jwn temperance principles, if acted out by t sverybcdy, would as effectually destroy the s market for corn as the success of prohibition, y [f no one drinks none will bo sold, none will lj be made, and if none is made no corn will be a used that way. b Strange as it may seem, this is quite an ob- f [ection; but I am sure those who make ifc 0 save never seen how weak it is or they would a lever repeat it. a I have been at some trouble to look up the a statistics on the question. According to the census of 1S80 the value )f distilled spirits was $540,721). This at $1.20 i gallon gives 450,607 gallons; estimating ;hree gallons to the gushel gives 150,202 a jushels of grain in distillation, which, at 40 J :ents per bushel, gives $ GO, USD. 80. Tho entire g product of the State is: Corn, 02,740,429 v sushels; rye, 1.50,410 bushels; total, 0:2,902,- . as. I This at but 40 cents per bushel gives as the , ralue of the entire crop of corn and rye $25,- , 10S,o3!).20. t Now, grant that the entire amount distilled t is lost for want of a market, how would the iccount stand? The valne of the remainder ,i would be $25,103,258.40. This divided by the j, whole amount of grain gives :!0.9 cents as the ' price per bushel, or a loss of one mill per jj bushel. Thus the man who has 100 bushels for sale ^ would lose 10 cents, tho one with 500 would 2| ose 50 cents, while to lose $1 the fanner must n iave 1,000 bushels. s. 1 limit 01 me extreme cuveivivuie? ui a linn who would rather have the greatest s urse known in our country forever fixeil up- < >11 the people than risk tha lo?s of 10 cents, >0 cents or perhaps a dollar. But even this would not be lost, for the grain sold to tha f iistiller if fed to animals for market would J, >e of more value in the end.?J. D. Floyd, in .i Uome Journal. The Petition of 300 Convicts. ? The names of the three hundred nnd sixty j inmates of the Tonne-see penitentiary are e signed to a petition, asking the people of the j, State to vote against the liquor tralnc, which jthey claim has Drought tlieni to their present ^ low and degraded state. The petition is addressed to the voters of , rennessee, and says: ^ "In all ages in the history of mankind, "a irimes, reformations, and revolutions havo E been the direct result of practical experiences c by the human family! n "One of these experiences has taught the ^ people of the State of Tennessee that their t a..A 4;i)rw-) tlifiiV IUVM' ncniiiHivl. u?.u, ,m.. ,? , , ^ ind their paupers created by tho direct in- ^ (luences of that soul destroying demon, 'whisky.' r "We, the inmates of the State Penitentiary, _ knowing by observation, and convinced by * undeniable facts, that liquor is tho cause of i all the misery we endure, of all tho harships f and privations we subject tho.-e to dej>endent ^ ujm)h us, do hereby most earnestly ask that s the voters of this great State may seriously ^ consider the question before them, and give their aid in word and deed, to tho cause of i 'Prohibition.' "We do not say that every prisonor in the : State is a habitual drunkard. We do not ^ claim that every criminal act was perpetra- t ted under the influence of whisky, but we ear nestly assort that three-fourths confined in . these walls can trace their downfall directly or indirectly to that cause. "Wearing the garb of disgrace, being dishonored and counted unworthy to mingle with the people of our State, we yet have the , I r ? il... l,??rf!nn(n > SameJOVU iur UUlmvw, iiic-?imv < <- . uv.v.. W our mothers, the same affection for our sistei-s, and for their sake, and tho sake of our c children, wo ap)>eal to you to uuite as one ^ man, and free the State from a curse created "* i>y tho hands of men, discountenanced by tho law of God." Preparing for tho Funeral. Rev. Sam Jones, who has been doing some ' very effective work for prohibition in Ten- ' nessee, in a late address delivered to an ira- ! mense audience in Nnshviile, saiil : "I was making a prohibition speech once in " one of our Georgia towns, out on the streets, !i when all at once a mule standing near by s commenced kicking a wagon all to piece?, and v such kicking had scarcely ever been soon. A ? saloon-keeper who was present said : ' 1 would like to ste that mule kick Sam Jones out of i.:.. i il i ? \Vr?ll ' Iuni,i ? ? n,? J audience, 'I have been saloon-kicked, but I have never been mule-kicked ; but I will let 'j all tho (iml^s in Georgia kick at mo before I will let another saloon take a whack at me.' (Laughter.) I think Josh Billings was about l' right when he said that if ho was going to ! preach the funeral of a mule ho wouid stand at his head while funeralizing. (Laughter.) Hut if I wanted to preach tho funoral of tho hundreds of bar-rooms in this city, I would \ stand at tho head of tho columns of prohibi- 1 tion voters of tho Stato and pray and work, mill on t.lin liiltli dav of SoDtumiber next wo would have the saloons ready for funeraliz- f ing. I have promised to preach their funeral, t and preach it for nothing and board myself, i (Laughter.) And I've got a text for that oc- eiision picked out, and it's a whopper, too r (laughter), and I think I can move things up 1 on that great text." Practical Prohibition. DerryTownship, Chester Co., l'enn., has no liquor sold in it, and has the opposition vested in the moral sense of its citizens. One 1 good farmer, well known, especially shows his faith through his works, and bis constant ] labors yield full crops, while his frugal wife ami active son and daughters make their homo attractive by various evidences of their I handiwork. Every home in the laud can bo improved by Prohibition.? Safe Ballot, I 1ELIGI0US READING. "Ho Carcth for Yarn." How strong and sweet my Father's care I The word, like music in the air, Comes answering to my whispered prayer. "He cares for thee." The thought great wonder with it brings, My cares are all such little things; But to the truth my glad faith clings, Ho cares for me. Vnf L'/mn ma ornr in Thv lnvft Dear Father, watching from above, And let me still Thy mercy prove And care for me. Cast mo not oft for all my sin, Bui make me pure and true within, And teach me how Thy smile to win Who carest for me. Ob, still in summer's golden glow, Or wintry storms of wind and snow, Love me, my Father; let me know Thy care for me! A.nd I will learn to cast the care Which, like a heavy load. I t>ear Down at Ttiy feet m lowly prayer, And trust in Thee, For naught can hurt me, shade or shine, Nor evil thing touch me or mine, 3iuce Thou, with tenderness divine, Dost care for me. ?[Marianne Farningham. Now, Not To-morrow. In one of the meetings held in Edinburgh. ! )y Mr. Moody, was a miner in his working jlothes, sitting near the front, very attentive md impressed. At the close of the meeting le rose to go away; but after walking down be passage, he turned and sat down again. Sis friend came up to him and said, "Come iwa' hame, John." "No," said he, "I came lere to get good, and I havena' taken t a' in yet." So he waited. There i vas more prayer and another hymn, i ind special conversation with himself. His leart was touched and changed; with his lard, rough grip, he shook tne minister's land, and said, "I have wondered if this night be true; I now believe it. It has jrought peace to my soul. I know and trust ny Saviour." On the next day, while workng, a mass of coal or rock fell on him. The i rnuries were fatal. Death was close at hand. * .l,o,l 1,,-m "Rnnrl ' \ 1CUUU nuinuiuu uitvuvu iiiiii. ?~rw.?v? , , lown your ear to me, said the dying man; tnd then ho added, "Oh, Andrew, I'm thank ul I settled it last night." I Choose Good Friends. Few things, says the Presbyterian, have a nore far-reaching influence on life than the ompanions and friends of one's early days, rhero should bo always the most careful j ' udging of elinracter before one is admitted , nto the inner circle of friendship. Cowper's I vcrds may seem to set up too high a standard rtien he writes: 'I would not enter on my list of friends, Though graced with manners and fine sense i (Yet wanting sensibility), tlie man Who needlessly sets his foot upon a worm'" Jut little things are tell-tales of character, nd heartlessness, shown even to a worm, , ells of heartlessness which may crop out someime when a worm is not the object. There . 3 ono test in all friendships which it seems ] afe to apply in every case: Never choose or your friends those who mock at sacred hings. You will not want such near you in ; he hour of sorrow, or when you have to 3 tand in the great mysteries of life, or when j i ou are shut up in a sick-room, or when you , ( ie on your beu of death. You will not want i . , jester or a scoffer at your side in such hours, j iut rather those who are grave and thought- | ul, with reverent faith and humble trust in I < rod Choose for your friends in youth and | ( 11 along your life those whom you will want ] bout you in life's great nours or trial, ana , , s you are about to pass into eternity. j i Stop the Clock. In one of the Eastern countries there lived ! ' man of skeptical opinions and ungodly life. Iq was a clQver workman, a man of consider- i ( ble natural ability and general Inrormatfon, 1 lit who was blind to Divine things. Reli- ; 1 ;ion was in his view a mere delusion,imposing ipon the weak and ignorant credulity of) vomen and children; a mere superstition, vhich it was the interest of priests to main- : ain, but which all sensible men were bound , 0 oppose. At length the unhappy skeptic was stricken C 1 own hv a disease which proved fatal in its o ssue. At length he is laid on a sick-bed which t iroved to bo his bed of death. Anxious to " :now how long he had to live, he asked the nodical man, who told him that he could not ' told out very long. Ho then insisted on a 0 nore definite reply, uj>on which the doctor, 'u ointing to a clock which stood in the room, ' lid, "I do not think there is any probability f your being alive when that clock E trikes twelve." The man has then but a a ew hours at most to live; he lies there I ratching the clock, conscious that his life is c bbing away, but giving 110 sign of altered eeling; the time mentioned by the doctor had 1 ^ 1*- ** ? ? wlu.n t.hp mmi siirl- II leiilv starts up in convulsive, expiring ener- i 1; ;y, and crying out. "Stop the clock! Stop the ]_ lock!" falls back a corpse. The clock topped, not in answer to his vain appearand f it had, he would have been nothing profit- i d; for the last moment of life had come, and t ie was summoned from time to eternity, j rom a world where hope lingers to the last, ? o a world where hope never enters. . = Reader, what will bo your feelings when 1 a ou know that the now narrow remnant of ] our life is being measured out by minutes i md seconds rather than by weeks and q aonths and years? How terrible will bo your | ase if, having neglected through life all the . leans of salvation, you realize in death their ! c mportance as you never did before, and in t he agony of a too late conviction, you put 1 - i._ H,io nnnpmmi "Strtn ip LI1U \ U1I1 UlllfiUJ V/L !>?? |/Wi ?> * y he clock! stop the clock!" But this need not l>e the cnse. Tho good j lews is still sounding; in your ears. The Gos- ' c >el of the graco of God is still preached to j ou. The Lord Jesus Christ, clothed with I c >ity aud with power, stands before you ! 'mighty to save;" "able also to save them to j j he uttermost that come unto God by Him, ' eeing He ever liveth to make intercession for c "lem." Tho Word is always, the Word is ( very where the same, ".Believe on the Lord r Testis Christ and thou shalt be saved." '"The r iVord is nigh thee, even in thy month, and J n thy heart: that is, the word of faith which < ve preach; that if thou shalt confess with f hy mouth tho Lord Jesus, and shall believe | t 11 thine heart that God hath raised Him from i 1 he dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the . leart man believeth unto righteousness; and ' vith the mouth confession is made unto sal* nti'nn " For tho Scripture saith, '"Whoso ver believeth on Him shall not be ashamed. ,?or there is no difference between the Jew tnd the Greek; for the same Lord over all is ieh unto all that call upon Him For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord 1 shall be saved."?[Friendly Greetings. 1 Is Christ your one object? "What arc you < iving for? Can you say, "Tho life that I | : ive in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son I if God, who loved me and gave Himself for I ( Nothing less than this is worthy of a | l .'hristian young mun. it is a poor, miser- i ible thing to bo content with being saved, , ilid then go on with the world, and live for ! elf-pleasing and self-interest?to accept salation as the fruit of Christ's toil and passion, 1 ind then livo at a distanco from Himself. ( iVhat should wo think of a boy who only ; ared about the good things provided by his at her's hand, and never sought his father's ompany?yea. preferred tho company of j 1 frangers.' We should justly despise him. ?' iat lii iw much more despicable is the Chris- , j ian young man, who owes his present and | , ternal all to tho work of Christ, and yet is ' ontent to live at a cold distanco from His I J ilissod person,caring not for tho furtheranco 1 ' if His causa or tbo promotion or ms giory;' s jv't each reader slowly and thoughtfully fill , >ut the following seutenco: For mo U live : s ' 1 wonder whether the subtle measuring of i orces will ever com: to measuring the 1'orco i hero would be in one beautiful woman whoso j mini was as noble as her face was beautiful ' ; -who made a man's passion for her rush in , , current with ull the great aims of his \ ife.?[George Eliot. I ' A Confidence Game. First confidence man?" How did you < make it down in Kansas ?" Second ditto?"I lost all the money i t took with me." ' < First ditto ? "IIow?" Policeman < jrub you ?" i i Second ditto?"No, arcal estate agent I ' got hold of vac."?Detroit Free Press. ' i Abont Bald Head*. Mr. G. H. Wheeler, Presidenx of th British Trichological Association, writing from St. Leonards on the Sea to the i.onaon standard on tne suoject ox Daianess, says: Will you permit me, as a trichologist of over twenty years' experience and , practice, to inform your readers that it is 1 not a fact that the future man will bo bald, any more than the comingman will be consumptive, gouty, or nervous. There will always be a certain number of bald persons, but if those suffering from loss of hair, before it gets too bad, would t adopt rational hygiene, and give up fads I c and deleterious habits of keeping the j hair and skin dry and free from oily sub- . stance, they would be taking the best { means to prevent the increase of that . number. I can prove that pure grease y of any kind is a great assistance in main- j taining the balance between waste and , repair in the functions of the hair, and t especially when induced by constipation, morln/1 rUnrnctirm nr n mnrhifl RtJltft of l w ? ? ~ - - 1 i the nervous system. Bathing the head ^ every day in cold water also causes losa j of hair, and so does having cold water s after hot when one is being shampooned, c from the changes which it induces in the j. network of capillaries that surround the c hair papillu?. Hair brushing by ma- ^ chinery, I am sure, is responsible for hun- ^ dreds of bald heads. c a a. i!f? :? ill. curium punuus ui mu mere is iu c some persons an innate disposition for j the skin and hair follicles to take on a t diseased action, as is proved by the dif- ^ ferent forms of atrophy and defeneration s we so often meet with, even in the ap- c parently robust, in our every-day prac- ^ tice. Our Materia Medica is rich in rem- r edies, but we require to know more how ^ to use them. I feel sure that many now j, bald need not be so. s ? c A 3Iincr's Reminiscences. t In the earlier days of Colorado mining 8 camps there were some very stirring ? scenes and adventures, and the tenderfoot were broken in without much ceremony * sometimes. I remember visiting a cer- ^ tain camp when it was quite new, and saving a man's liTe the very first night. s Tin wns in the bed next to mine in the I ^ tent, and about midnight an order came * for him to get up, as lie was wanted, lie e was asked to lose no time, as he was to r be summarily tried for having shot a man. I jumped up and declared the man ^ was innocent, but I was shown the muz- ? zlc of a 42-calibre and told to lie down. However, as there was no help for it, I said I would accompany the accuscd, 8 who was nearly frightened out of his wits. 11 We went down to one who was styled a "the justice,"and the complaint was * lodged that the prisoner had shot a man. ? A.s he could say nothing in his own be- J1 . 1^ "T i__ P . .. 4.^,1 4.1,^4. If nan, i spoKC ior nuu, iinu suuuu wui ai the time the shooting was said to have T occurred the accuscd was soundly sleep- P ing. Just then a stranger appeared and v innounced that he did the shooting, a ind proved that it was in self-defence, r ind the matter was all settled. Next day c ne were all treated to a little "fun." A tin v can was tied to an unwelcome visitor's coat tail, and he was told to "git." He y lost no time in striking a 2:40 gait, dnd . is he f!cw down the road, the can dang- " ing behind him, was a mark for all the ^ rest of the boys to "take a crack at." More than one of them hit the can, too, " ind I am not sure but that I made it 81 ]uivcr myself. We thought it was very " runny, and so did the poor victim?perbaps.?Globe-Democrat. Parisian Fly Catchers. * Fly-catchers have a busy time of it in ti 'aris during the summer season. The s; ailing is not a recognized or classified a ne, nor do parents us a rule bring their h ons up to it. But there are hundreds of tl xperienced hands employed at it during ' he dog days, and a good haul of flies is 1 iftcn protitablo enough. The London is Tckqraph says: 1 The fly catcher is generally a good-for- v lothing rascal from the suburban lanes p nd alleys, who docs not want to leave si Jaris, and is too lazy to go into the ii ountry for the hay making or the har- A esting. Sometimes he is a person who G initcs in himself a variety of callings, p ?eing by turns a corner errand-runner, a a: >001 black, a dog-shaver and clipper, or e ven floor-waxeroutof employment. w His mrthoclis as iouows: jic xaKcs a olerably large-sized box with a little hole p n its top. and stations himself outside a li [roecr's shop where the winged insects e re busily buzzing against the window h nines on the lookout for stray drops of si riolasscs or chance grains of brown sugar, o These the catcher dexterously imprisons n 11 hispalm, in the schoolboy fashion,and, lc lislocating some of their antenna?, puts tl hem into his box. Some times he isal- tl owed to pursue his calliug inside the a hop when customers are not numerous, is ;ud is thus enabled to fill his box with b :elcrity. g Ai'tcr a few hours of this exciting kind b ?fwork lie goes off with his spoil and dis)oscs of it to the people who sell or keep si >irds. His best and most open-handed w uistomcrs are the frail denizens of the ti Jtiarticr Breda or the Quastier de l'Eu- e1 ope, all of whom keep the feathered pets, ir icy often pay so good a price to the tlv- m :atchcr for his spoil that he is enabled to si jo home after a successful day with ample neans in his pocket to defray the cost of icd and board for half a week in one of lis umgy nauuis. I, Raising Snails For Food. ft The esculent snail is of various kinds: me inhabits damp meadows and is fed , jpon lettuec. Indeed, there are several varieties of these, judging from the char- F' icter of their shells, which inhabit fresh ivater, or rather the hanks of fresh water f1 streams, and the low grassy meadows ad- 1 joining. At least one kind is a denizen J if tlie salt water, and is found in the .mid of tidal estuaries, and, as the * 'peri- *'r ivinklc," is largely consumed by Euroleans and even by the English people. tThis latter spccics :s I>oilet! in salt water, 1 lud as the small, spiral shaped animal is liuwn from its shell usually by means of . i strong pin, the common name of it is he 'pinpatch." A snail farm is quite a l. (veil conducted establishment in France, iud is always surrounded by a close, safe ,, 'once to keen the stock from wandering ibroad and getting lost. It is commonly sown with clover, lcttuce, rape, and )ther tender herbage, upon which the mails feed, and is laid out with narrow '. paths for case in gathering the daily sup,ily which is sent to market.?New York ^ '/ in I fx. j i)....AKvlinr Tlinir Trmlitimm L u ana a iwu .Judge J. D. Walker, of Florence, Arizona, says that the Pima Indians select several promising youths of their tribe . from time to time for repositories of their traditions, and they are carefully in- 11 strutted in the historical legions per- P taining to their tribe, being required to ' ^ them faithfully to memory. They in turn instruct their successors, v indthus preserve the traditions in the P 2.\:ict language recited by their ancestors * oi many years ago. They have kuowl:dge of the tribe that built the old Casa ?' Grande and other vast buildings, whose 1 ruins now cxcitc such curiosity. P UNDER THE LASH. ~ A CONVICT'S SEVERE PUNISHMENT IN CANADA. ried To a "Whipping Post and Lashed Twenty-Five TimesHow He Underwent the Ordeal. On Saturday at nine a. >r.. John Grelish eceived the sccond and final instalment >f twenty-five lashes at the Central Prison for the crime of which he was jroven guilty two months ago, says a ccent issue of the Toronto Mail. The ninishmcnt was inflicted in presence of rYarden Classic, Deputy Warden Logan, Dr. W. T. Alkins, five newspaper rejorters and about fifty prisoners. As on he former occasion Orelish was tied up o the whipping post in the corridor of he southern wing. He was stripped to he waist. ' The effect of the former ashes was scarceiv noticeable. There | vere a few bruises which could be seen , in a close examination. The bold front I " "rnaontnrl nil thfi first OCCflSion had I IW ~ - [uite disappeared. He had thenj owed that they would not make hira j rince, but when he was being tied upon : Saturday by the apparently remorseless j guards he was trembling and quivering ;' n anticipation of the punishment about; o follow. A guard stood by with the ; Ireaded lash in his hand. Warden Mas- j ic looked on the proceeding, holding an j ifficial looking blue paper in his hand, i yliich was the warrant for the punish- ; aent. Promptly at 0 o'clock everything ras ready. The group of convicts who ?l i----- t.-> ?r?f n? nn nwliftnee IUU UU?JU LV V?v^ w .... ? tood a short distance away under the ! harge of a guard. Close behind Grelish I he other spe tators stood. "Warden Masie stepped forward, and looking at the due paper said iu aloud voice: "John G relish, you were convicted on he 30th of June at the High Court -A "ustice, of attempted assault oil a girl inder the age of ten years. You were cntenced to two months' imprisonment nth twenty-five lashes on entering and wenty-five lashes two w eeks before the nd of the term. You aic now about to eceive the second instalment." There was a moment's hush and everylody's eyes were fixed on the back of the irisoner. "One," said Deputy "Warden Logan. The guard with the lash, who had been tanding one pace from the prisoner, oade a step backward, swung the lash round behind him with au under moion, and bringing it up again over his houlder let it fall on his bare back. The ash had hardly touched him when Gifish shrieked and made a struggle back rard to get away irom me wnippmg ost. But he was too firmly tied. There ras only a small red mark on his back bout four inches in length. With the cgularity of a clock the Deputy Warden outinued to count and the strokes fell rith equal regularity. From the third } ish Grelish yelled, "My God, Oh, my lod, murder, murder." Then he called 'Doctor, doctor," in hopes that the med-; lal attendant would interfere. Slowly j tie flesh began to discolor. From a light j sd it went to a dark red. Then the ish drew up purple lines which x>n assumed the appearance of an imlense black bruise. L'p till the twelfth troke Grelish kept calling on the doctor, j iut got no succor from that source. When 'No. 13" was struck he fell down, pre ending to faint. But the whipping ?ost supported him and the lashing con-; inued. He ceased crying for a brief pacc of time, and his "body shook like n aspen leaf. The nineteenth lash made j im veil again, and from that time until! tie end his shrieks were terrible. When 'twenty-five" was called Mr. Massicsaid 'hold,"and the lashing stopped. Grel;h again fell down apparenlly in a faint, "he appearance of his back was just rhat it would be if a black patch were ainted on it, occupying a space about ix inches by ten inches. The skin was l furrows, but not broken in any place, .fter the guards had loosened his hands (relish was told to put on his coat. lie ickeditoff the lloor and sullenly did s he wa3 told. He then walked into a ell and lay down on the noor. men ne ras locked up. Warden Massie said that the worst rt of the lashing was the anticipation, 'efore the first dose relish thought lie trnld stand it all right, but afterward e was in mortal terror of the second inalment. These exhibitions had little r no effect on the prisoners who witessed them. By simply laying on the tsh without drawing it promptly away ie skin was not broken. It was neverlelcssa severe punishment, and felt like burning fire consuming the flesh. Grelh was a strapping fellow, and could ear a good deal more than had been iven him. lie seemed to be more like a east than a man. The guard who had charge of Grclish lid that he passed a wakeful night, but hen breakfast came demanded full raons. lie ate heartily, though it was rident that there was something preyig on his mind. (1 relish works in the I laehine shop, and was required to reline his duty in the afternoon. Can nc Strategy. He was a strategist of no mean order. i his daily rambles over the farm lie mnd out the habitation of every delver 11 it. Under a huge stump iu a remote eld a woodchuck, old and gray. h:id his urrow. For years Turk had tried to ipture him, but without success. I ave seen him lie down in the tall clover ml creep a hundred yards or more in the ope to get near enough before being disDvcrcd to capture him by a sudden rush, ut at length his doggish brain formed u lan that was successful. Being in the icinity of the burrow on one occasion , e crept cautiously up to a small cleva011, and from it, lying close to the round, he watched till he saw Mr. huck leave it and let him get some dis mcc from it ueiorc giving any sign ui is presence, and when at length he did art, it was not for the game, but for le burrow, which lie reached first. But Old Chuck y'' was game, and a 4-battle >yal" ensued, which could only cud oneay, and it was with panting breath that urk looked on his dead foe. I have !cn him use the same strategy when range swine were depredating in a corn eld, and he had found the place where icy had entered.?Outing. Snellen's Coast. A number of barren gray boulders )rmed the first and rather disappointing nprcssion of Sweden. The next mornlg, for miles along the shore, these bald ranite islets, some small, some large, j c in serried rows with deep water be- j ivecn tlicin and tne mainiaua?a eon-: cnicnt arrangement that should be ap-' n.'ciated by yachtsmen, since it affords essels of ordinary size an opportunity I coasting agreeably in sni.yoth water, veil when the Kattegat -0v the Skager , lack ontside are in a Jjiood severely ll'N leasant,?Cornhill. i PACTS FOR THE CURIOUS. -: ~ A copy of the finest edition of Walton's "Complete Angler," 1658, was sold lately at a London auction room for $975. . \m Tiie war of the Revolution, between England and the American colonies, cost the former one hundred millions in treasure. % : -ASB A sandhill crane belonging to an ex .Mayor 01 luscoia, in., js ?;uu iu give about twenty-four hours' notice of approaching storms by shrill calls that can be heard in all parts of the town. A woman in Coweta County, Ga., * picked a cabbage out of her garden the I other day, and upon slicing it prepara' tory to cooking, found a bird's egg em: bedded in the vegetable. Some bird had | made a nest in the cabbage. There are now in the mission field ! 2,400 unmarried ladies, besides probably an equal number of the married. In the early days of missions it was not thought a lady could enter the ranks of mission workers except as the wife of a missionary. A tree called the umbrella tree of .Japan, now growing in a yard at Tallahassee, Fla., though only three years old, has leaves on it that measures twenty-one inches by sixteen. It is umbrella shaped, and makes a shelter that is impervious to sunshine or rain. There are now upon the Upper Congo, Africa, seven steamers, four owned by the Free State, one by France and two by missionary societies. The fleet will soon be doubled by the addition of ' ?% another Free State steamer, one by Bishop Taylor's mission and those belonging to the Compagnie Beige du Congo and the American, Dutch and French trading companies. A curious result of the placing of electric lights in front of the Treasury and " V-'g other public buildings at Washington lis < been an extraordinary combination i spiders' webs'. The spiders have discovered that Hie , moths, etc., are attracted by the light, and hence their webs are in some parts so thick that parts of the architectural ornamentation are monger visible. ^.*1 \ WORDS OF WIS1HM1. Wisdom makes opportunities. Those who look for evil find it. Man's thought lasts longer than man's A mistake is one thing and a blunder another. We judge, in this world, not byinten- v tion, but by result. Genius is so r^re that it must impress one when one meets it. There is nothing so valuable, and yet so cheap, as civility; you can almost buy land with it. ' j * _ j** A man may transgress as truly by holding his tongue as by speaking unadvisedly with his lips. It is the easiest thing in the world to discover all the defects in a man when we do not like him. Never wait for a thing to turn up. Go and turn it up yourself. It takes less time, and it is surer to be done. Perpetual pushing and assurance put a difficulty out of countenance and make a seemiag impossibility give way. rf-Anrrocf nf HQ will hfl IWthmff 111C OHUUjjM. a but a memory to our friends by and by; tlxe better we live the sweeter that memory will be. The boy who sweeps the streets, and puts muscular force on the broom handle, rendering the crossing clean, in that act exhibits a trait of character that will exalt him to a higher station. A Jtiooaiess iuuu. Physicians and scientists are at a loss to account for a strange freak of nature which lives a few miles from here, says a letter from Berlin, Germany. .The man, whose name is Otto Schreiber, apparently has no blood. This fact was discovered less than a month ago, when Schreiber, who is a corporal, had a duel with a fellow soldier. His opponent ran him throuyh with a sword, but no blood llowed, and he did not appear to be harmed in the least. The man was so astonished that Otto had no difliculty in killing him. Since that time he has let his comrades amuse themselves by sticking knives and daggers through his body, with no injury whatever, not even adro] of blood llowing. He visited a medica college in Berlin, and in the presence oi the whole college had a sharp knife run through his mouth, coming out at the back "of his head. No mark whatever was left. lie was then examined by a committee of distinguished surgeons,who confessed themselves totally unable to explain the miracle. Otto Schreiber is a corporal in the German army, and nexi year, when his time is up, he will exhibit himself in Berlin, Paris, London and America. JJanaiia Liquor. The Indian Agriculturist calls attention to the fact that India abounds in bananas or pi ntains, and "wonders that the fruit has never been employed in the distillation of a fermented liquor. The common prickly pear has been utilized for this purpose in Malaga, and with considerable advantage to the distillers; and it now appears that missionaries in the Congo region have discovered that a -r* . beverage made of bauanas is a preventive of malarial fevers. A banana liquor company has recently been started in India for producing banana liquor in either an alcoholic or non-alcoholic form, and Ann Kn with oniiiil ndvantafre as an ordinary liquor or diluted with hot or cold soda water. Salt Water Bathing-. Sea bathing should be indulged in with caution when the sun is bright and hot. At a large majority of resorts the water temperature is many degrees below the normal heat of the human body, and where all parts except the head are ' ' * ' 1 nnfl flint iq subjecieu 10 a icssum-u exposed to the sun, there is clanger of cerebral congestion, which may stop at a spli'.ting headache or go 011 to an attack of apoplexy. J'athing should be done early in the morning, after a cup of COlTCC. or JUSC oeiore uuiiiiuiu, iuc luuu preferably. ?American Magazine. September. Here's a lyric for September, Best of all months to remember; Month when summer breezes tell What has happened woo<l and dell, Of the joy the year has brought And the changes she has wrought. She lias turued the verdure red; In the blue sky overhead She the harvest-moon has hung Like a silver boat among Shoals of stars.?bright jewels set In the earth's blue coronet. She has brought the orchard's fruit > To renay the robin's flute Which has gladdened half the year ?- , >V 1111 a I1IU91U iivjuiu V?v?* ? Ami she makes tho meadow grass Catoli the sunbeams as they pasa? Till the autumn's floor is rolled With a fragrant cloth of gold. "Frank Sherman, in St, WchotaK 'l ?" ' .* /' 'i iwCi