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r Jt REV. DR. TAIJAGE. >\ THE BROOKLYN DIVINE S SUN-r DAY SERMON. Subject: "Disabled Hunters Brinjji inc Down the Most Game." Text?"The lame take the prey."?Isaiah ZxxiiL, 23. The utter demolition of the Assyrian host was here predicted Not only robust men should go forth and gather the spoils of conquest, but even men crippled of arm and crippled of foot should go out and capture much that was valuable. Their physical riisnrlvflntdirpk should not hinder thpir ptpsIi enrichment. So it has been in the past, so ill ! is now, so it will be in the future. fc>o it is in j all departments. Men labor under sesmingly | great disadvantages and amid the most unfavorable circumstances, yet making grand achievements, getting groat blessing for - themselves, great blessing for the world, great blessing for the church, and so "the , lame take the prey." Do 3*ou know that the three great poets of j <L the world were totally bliud? Homer, Os- j eian, John Milton. Do you know that Mr. Prescott, who wrote that enchanting book, "The Conquest of Mexico," never saw Mexico, could not even see the paper on which he was writing? A framework am ss the sheet, between wtiich, up and down, went the pen 1 Immortal. Do you know that Gamlmssio, tho j sculptor, could not see the marble before him I or the chisel with which be cut it into shapes j howit-y?hir>cri T)n vnn knmr that Alexander I Pope, whose poems will last as long as the j I ' English language, was so mnch of an invalid j * that he had to be sewed up every morning iu rough canvas in order to stand on his feet I at all? Do you know that Stuart, the celebrated j painter, did much of his wonderful work j under the shadow of the dungeon, where he had been unjustly imprisoned for debt? Do you know that Demosthenes; by almost .1 euperhuman exertion, first had to conquer the lisp of his own speech before he con"=%_ quered assemblages with his eloquence? Do you know that Bacon struggled all through innumerable sicknesses, and that Jjord Byron and Sir Walter Scott went limping on club feet through all their life, and that many of the great poets and painters and orators and historians and heroes of the world had something to keep them back, and pull them down, and impede their way, and cripple their physical or their intellectual _ movement; and yet t&ey tnat pusnea on ana W pushed up until they reached the spoils of I worldly success, and amid the huzza of L nations and centuries, '"the lame took the ! . prej'i" \ ou know that a vast multitujj^ of these " men started under the disadvantage of obscure parentage. Columbus, the son of the weaver. Ptffguson, the astronomer, the son of the shepherd. America, the prey of the one; worlds on worlds the prey o:' the other. But what is true in secular directions is more ' true in spiritual and religious directions,and | I proceed to prove it There are in all communities many invalids. They never know a well day. They adhere to their occupations, but they go panting along the streets with exhaustions, I and at eventime they lie down on the lounge | with achings beyond all medicament. They have tried all prescriptions, they have gone through all the cures which were proclaimed infallible, ?- and they haye come now to surrender to perpetual ailments. They consider they are among many disadvantages; and when they see those who are buoyant in health pass by they almost envy their, robust frames and easy respiration. But 1 have noticed among that invalid those who have the greatest knowledge of the Bible, who are in nearest intimacy f with Jesus Christ, who have the most glowing experiences of the truth, who nave had tne most remarkable answers to prayer, and who have most exhilart ant anticipations of heaven. The temptations which weary us who are in robust health they have conquered. They have divided among them the spoils of the conquest Many who are alert and athletic swarthy loiter in the way. These ^^WeHhe lame that take the prey. Robber t Hall, an invalid; Edward Payson, . D i <->V* o Y-rJ Parfi?? on intrall'H Samuel Rutherford an invalid. This morning, when you want to call to mind those who are most Christlike, you think of some . darkened room in your father's house from < which there went forth an influence potent for eternity. A step farther: Through raised letters the ' art of printing has been brough t to the attention of the blind. You take up the Bible for the blind, and you close your eyes, and you run your fingers'over the raised letters, and you say: "'Why, I never could get any information in i this way. What a slow, cumbrous way of reading! God help the blind." And yet I find among that class of persons j j ?among the blind, the deaf and the aumb? the most thorough acquaintance with God's I ?J CJU..4- oil AfViar CAiirno^ nf I ^ WUrU. UUUU VUU iivui au vvuut ctwma i , information, no sooner does their hand touch i the raised letter than they gather a prayer. "Without "eyes,they look off upon the kingdom ! ! of God's love. Without hearing they catch j the minstrelsy of the skies. Dumb, yet with I J pencil, or with irradiated countenance, they j i declare the glory of God. , A. large audienco assembled in New York j at the anniversary of the Deaf and Dumb j j asylum, and one of the visitors with chalk on | the blackboard wrote this question to the j pupils: VDo you not find it very hard to bo | deaf and dumb?' ,A.nd qna of the pupilstgojt | ! the ^halk and tfrote on the blackooara this J , Tmohrae sentence in answer: "When the song j of fcheftneels shall burst upon <JQr enrapt- I tired ear, we will scarce reghet that our ea'rs were never marred with earthly sounds." : Oh! the brightest eyes in heaven will be , those that never saw on earth. The ears most alert in heaven will ba those that in this world heard neither voice of friend, nor , thrum of harp, nor carol of bird, nor doxology of congregations. . A lad who had been blind from infancy i ; was cured. Ths oculist operated upon the j lad, and then put a very heavy bandage over j , the eyes, and after a few weeks had gone by, | the bandage was removed, and the mother j . said to her child: "Willie, can you see?" He , aid: "Oh! mamma, is this heaven?" The j contrast between the darkness before and the j ! brightness afterward was overwhelming. | j And I tell you the glories of heaven will be a thousandfold brighter for those who never J saw anything on earth. While many with j t'rvo.'l vision closed their eves at nieht, and i I man}' who had a good artistic and cultured I j -esftr went down into discord, these afflicted ! ones cried unto the Lord in their trouble, j and he made their sorrows their advantage, and so "the lame took the prey.'' In the Seventh century there was a legend of St Modobert. It was said that his mother was blind, and one day while looking at his mother he felt so sympathetic for her blind- ! Bess that he rushed forward and kissed her blind eyes, and, the legend says, her vision came immediately. That was only a legend, but it is a truth, a glorious truth, that a ljisi of God's eternal lovo has brought to mariy a blind eye eternal illumination. A step further: There are those in all communities who toil mightily for a livelihood. They have scant wages. Perhaps they are ? diseased, or have physical infirmities, so they are hindered from doing a continuous day's work. A city missionary finds them up the dark alley, with no fire, with thin clothing, with Very coarse bread. They never ride in the ! streetcars; thsy cannot afford the five cents. They never see any pictures save those in the show windows on the street, from which they are often jostled, and looked at by some j one whoseems to say in thelook: "Move on! j what are you doing here looking at picturesF i Yet many of them live on mountains of transfiguration. At their rough table he who fea the five thousand breaks the bread. They talk often of the good times that are coming. This world has no charm for them, but heaven entrances their spirit- They often divide their scant crust with some forlorn wretch who knocks at their door at night, and on the blast of the night wind, as the door -opens to let them in, is heard the voice of him who said: "I was hungry and ye fed me." No cohort of heaven will be too bright to transDort them. By God's help th ev have vanquished the Assyrian host. They hava divided among them the spoils. Lame, lame, yet they took the prey. I was riding along" the country road one day, and 1 saw a nian on crutches. 1 overtook him. He was very old. He was going very slowly. At that rato it would Lave taken him two hours to go a mile. I said: "Wouldn't you like to ride ?" He said: "Thank you, I would God bless you." When he sat beside me he said: "You see I am very lame and very old, out the Lord has been a good Lord to me. I have buried all my children. The Lord gave them and the Lord had a right to ^ take them away. Blessed he his name. I was very sick and I had no money, and my neighbors came in and took care of me and I wanted nothing. I suffer a great ?deal with pain, but then I nave so many mercies left. The Lord has been "a good Lord to me." And bafore we had got far I was in doubt whether I was giving him a ride or he was giving me a ride! He said: "Now, if you please, I'll get out here Just help me down on my crutches, if you please. God bless you. Thank you, sir. Good morning. Good morning. You have been feet to the lame, sir, you have. Good morning." Swarthy men had gone the road that day. I do not know where they came out, but every hobble of that old man was toward the shining gate. With his old crutcn be had struck down many a Sennacherib of temptation which has mastered you|and ine. Lame, so fearfully lame, so awfully lame; but he took the prey. A step further: There are in all communities many orphans. During our last war,and in the years immediately following, how many children we heard say: "Oh! my father was killed in the war." Have you ever noticed?I fear you have not?how well those children have turned out? Starting under the greatest disadvantage, no orphan asylum could do for them what their father would have done had he lived. The skirmisher sat one night, by the light of fagots, in the swamp, writing a letter home, when a sharpshooter's bullet ended the letter which was never folded, never posted an 1 never read. Those children came up under great disadvantage. No father to fight their way for them. Perhaps there was in the old family Bible an old yellow letter pasted fast, which told the story of that father's long march, and how he suffered in the hospital; but they j looked still further on in the Bible, and they came to the story of how God is the father of the fatherless, and the widow's portion, and they soon took their father's place in that household- They battled the way for their mother. They came on up. and many of them have in the years since the war taken positions in church and state. While many of those who suffered nothing during those times have had sons go out into lives of indolence and vagabondage, those who started under so many disadvantages because they were so earlv bereft, these are the lame who took the prey. A stop further: There are those who would like to be good. They say: "Oh! it 1 only had wealth, or, if I had eloquence. or if I had high social position, how much I would accomplish for God and thfe church!" A stand here to-day to tell you that you have great opportunities for usefulness. Who built the Pyramids? The King who ordered them built? No; the plain workmen who added stone after stone and stone after stone. Who built the dikes of Holland? The government that ordered the enterprise? No; the plain workmen who carried the earth and rung their trowel on the wall. Who are inose wno nave t>uilt tnese vast cities? The capitalists? No; the carpenters, the masons, the plumbers, the plasterers, the tinners, the roofers, dependent on a day's wages for a livelihood. And so in the great work of assuaging human suffering and enlightening human ignorance and halting hu man iniquity. In that great work, the chief part is to be done by ordinary men, with ordinary speech, in an ordinary manner, and by ordinary means. The tronble is that in the army of Christ ' we all wanted to be captains and colonels and brigdier generals. We are not willing to march with the rank and file and to do duty with the private soldier. We want to belong to the reserve corps, and read about the battle while warming ourselves at the campfire3, or on furlough at home, our feet upon an ottoman, we sagging back into an arm chair. As you go down the street you see an excavation, and four or five men are working, and perhaps twenty or thirty leaning on the rail and looking over at them. That is the way it is in the church of God to-day: where you find one Christian hard at work, there are fifty men watching the job. Oh! my friends, why do you not go to work and proach this Gospel! You say: "I have no pulpit." You have. It may be the carpenter's bench, it may be the mason's wall. The robe in which you are to proclaim this Gospel may be a shoemaker's apron. But wo3 unto you if you preach not this Gospel somewhere, somehow! If this world is ever brought ? to Christ, it will be through the unanimous t and long continued efforts of men who, * waiting for no special endowment, consecrate to God what they have. Among the most useless people in the world are men with ten ta:ents, wmie many a one wnu omy swo talents, or no talent at all, is doing, a great work, and so "the lame take the prey." There are thousands of miuistors of whom C you have never heard?in log cabins at the West, in mission chapels at the Last?who are warring against the legions of darkness, successfully warring. Tract distributors, F month bv month undermining the citadels 3f sin. You do not know their going or their i :oming; but the footfalls of their ministry ire heard in tho palaces of heaven. Who . are the workers in our Sabbath schools c throughout this land to^day? Men cele brated, men brilliant, men of vast es- \ ;ate.< For the most part, not that at all. c [ have noticed that the chief characteris- ?iics of the most of those who are successful in the work is that they know their 1 Bibles, are earnest in prayer, are anxious 1 for the salvation of the young, and Sabbath g by Sabbath are willing to sit down un- ? observed and tell of Christ and the resurrection. These are the humble workers who ^ are recruiting the great army of Christian I y-oulh?not by might, not by power, not 1 by profound argument, not by brilliant a antithesis, but by the blessing of God on plain talk, and humble story, and silent ? tear, and anxious look. "The lame take the * prey." t Oh! this work of saving tks youth of our z country?how few appreciate what it is! t riiis generation tramping on to the grave - , we will soon all be gone. What next ? An engineer on a locomotive going across i Ll.?. rlrttr /low on tr <1 + L liU n csici 11 |UUII uajr V4IAJ WW- W. I, littlo child come out in front of a cabin and s wave to him; so he got in the habit of wav[ng back to the little child, and it -was the iay's joy to him to see the little one come out 11 n front of the cabin door and wave to him, s w hile he answered back. One day the tram was belated it came on to the dusk of the evening. As the engineer >tood at his post ho saw by the headlight that ittle girl on the track, wondering why ;lio train did not come, looking "or the train, kuowing nothing of ts peril. A great horror seized upon ;he engineer. He reversed the engine. He jave it in charge of the other man on board, ind then he climbed over the engine, and le came down on tho cow catcher. He said, chough ho had reversed the engine, it seemed is though it were going at lightning speed, Caster and faster, though it was really slowing up, and withalmrst snpernatural clutch le caught that child by the hnir and lifted it ip, and when the train stopped and the passengers gathered around to see what was the natter, there the old engineer lay, fainted lend away, the little child alive and in his swarthy arms. _ "Oh!" you say, "that was well done." But I want you to exercise Fome Kinuness c inti appreciation toward those in the icmmunity who are snatching the lit;!e ones from under the wheels of tempta- < tio:i and sin?snatching them from i under thundering rail trains and eternal , disaster,bringing them up into respectability in this world and into glory for the world to :oine. You appreciate what the engineer did: 1 why can you not appreciate the grander t work done by every Sabbath-school teacher t this afternoon? Oh! my friends, I want to impress upon ' myself and upon yourselves that it is not the * number of talents we possess, but the use we * make of thein. l God has a royal family in the world. Now, if 1 should ask: "Who are the royal families of history?" you would say: ''House of Hapsburg, house of Stuarts, house of Bourbons." They lived in palaces aud had great equipage. But who j aro the Lord's royal family f some or inem ( may serve you in the household, some of them are in unlighted earrets, some j of them will walk this afternoon down 1 the street, on their arm a basket of ] broken food; some of them are in the alms- i house, despised and rejected of men, yet in the last great day, while it will be found that some of u? who fared sumptuously every day . are hurled back into discomfiture, there are ! the lame that will take the prey. i One step further: There are a great many ( people discouraged about getting to heaven. | You are brought up iu good families, you ' hnH christian naretitnsre: but they frankly | tell me that you are a thousand miles away from the right track. My brother, you are the one 1 want to preach to this morning. 1 have been looking for you. I will tell you how you got astray. It was not maliciousness o& your part. It was perhaps through the geniality and sociality of your nature that you fell into sin. You wandered away from your duty, you unconsciously loft the house of God; you admit the Gospel to be true, and yet you have so grievously and so prolongedly wandered, you say rescue is impossible. It would take o week to count up the names of those in heaven who were on earth worse than you tell me you are. They went the whole w. round or iniquity, they disgraced themselves, they disgraced their household, they despaired of return because their reputation was gone, their property was gone,every thing was gone: but in some hour like this they|heard the voice of God, and threw themselves on the divine compassion, and rose up more than conquerors. And I tell you there is the same chance for you. That is one reason why I like to preach this Gospel, so free a Gosoel, so tremendous a Gospal. It takes a man all wrong, and makes him all right. In a former settlement where I preached, a member of my congregation quit the house of God, quit respectable circles, went into all styles of sin, and was slain of his iniquity. The day for his burial came, and his body was brought to the house of God. Some of his comrades who had destroyed him were overheard along the street, on the way to the burial, saying: "Come, let us go and hear Talmage damn this 0I4 sinner!' Oh! I had nothing but tears for the dead, and I bad nothing but invitations for the living. You see J could not do otherwise. "Christ Jesus came to seek and save that which was lo3t." Christ in his dying prayer said: "Father, forgive them," and that was a prayer for you and for me. Oh! start on the road to heaven to-day. You are not happy. The thirst of your soul will never be slaked by the fountains of sin. You turn everywhere but to God for help. Right where you are, call on Him. He knows you, He knows all about you. He knows all the odds against which you have been contending in life. Do not go to Him with a long rigmarole of a prayer, but just ^pok up and say: "Help! Help!" But you say: "My hand trembles so from my dissipations I can't even take hold of a hymn book to sing." Do not worry about that, mv brother: I will eive out a hymn at the close so familiar you can sing it without a book. But you say: "1 have such terrible habits on me I can't get rid of them." My answer is: Almighty grace can break up that habit, and will break it up. But you say: "The wrong I did was to one dead and in heaven now,ana I can't correct that wrong." You can correct lu oy tne grace ot uuu,gu nuu uie preBcuw of that one, and the apologies you ought to have made on earth make in heaven. "Oh!" says some man, "if I should try to do right, if I should turn away from my evil doing unto the Lord, I would bo jostled, I would be driven back; nobody would have any sympathy for me." You are mistaken. Here, in the presence of the church on earth and in heaven, i give you to-day the right hand of Christian fellowship. God sent me here to-day to preach this, and he sent you here to hear this: ''Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thought, ana let bira return unto the Lord, who will have mercy, and unto our God, who will abundantly pardon." Though you may have been the worst sinner, you may become the best saint, and in the grec-t day of judgement it will be found that "where sin abounded, grace does much more abound, and while the spoils of an everlasting kingdom aro being awarded for your pursuit, it will be found that the lame took the prey. Blessed be God that we are, this Sabbath, one week nearer the obliteration of all the inequalities of this life and all its disquietudes. Years ago, on a boat on the North river,-the pilot gave a very sharp ring to the bell for the boat to slow up. The angineer attended to the machinery, and then he came up with soma alarm on deck to see what was the matter. He saw it was a moonlight night, and there were no obstacles in the way. He went bo the pilot and said: "Why did you ring the bell in that way? Why do you want to stop? there's nothing the matter." and the pilot said to trim "There is a mist gathering 5n the liver; don't you see that? and there is night gathering darker and darker, and I :an't see the way" Then the engineer, looking around and seeing it was a bright moonignt, looked into the face of the pilot and saw that he was dying, and then that he was lead. God grant that when our last moment :omes we may be found at our post doing jur whole duty; and when the mists of the iver of death gather on our eyelids, may the rood Pilot take the wheel from our hands ind guide us into the calm harbor of eternal rest! Drop the anchor, furl the 8&U ; i am eair wuuin tno vine. Damp Cellars. The most prominent causes of damp ellars are: 1. Dampness permeating the walls. 2. Dampness from saturated soil ap- j (earing below the walls. 3. Dampness from imperfect plumb- i n g- ! 4. Moist ground air permeating cellar >ottom, forced in by air pressure. ! The first is an evidence of either poor i workmanship and material or imperfect i Irainage. Should it be the former, and j liscovered in time, a compulsory re- i noval of the work is the best remedy. ( L good wall (stone is here understood) 1 hould have every space completely , illed. Small flat stones make the best i I'ork when carefully bonded and fitted, jook out for walla showing nothing but arge flat stone on the outer face3, as luch are often but dry concrete in the enter. If the work has progressed too ar to allow the wall to be taken down, he remedy is a thorough coating of cenent on the outside?from grade to OOting?backed by a careful drainage of he immediate vicinity. ?reat care is lecessarv to keep the surface water from he building on all sides. It will not uffice to keep it five, ten, or twenty feet ; iway, and then allow it to pool, i is the ground will absorb it, and if the \ trata should happen to incline in the lircction of the cellar, conduct the ! noisture to the wall, where although \ perhaps not appearing in drops on the < iurface, still Keeping tne joints aamp ;nough to affect the atmosphere and ;ause the mortar to decay. G'ood, clean, yellow clay, well pudiled and rammed around the walls, is an jxccllcnt protection, aud one that should icver be omitted. Frequently, in neighborhoods thinly J iettled, where the s.wage system is im)erfect, or, rather, not completed, the 1 jrouud becomes waterlogged, or so satu- ' ated with moisture as to cause any shal- j ow excavation to collect water, and it , ,vill be noticed in such ground that after i i rain all these depressions hold the 1 vater with great tenacity. In fact, the 1 loil seems unable to absorb any more. 1 Cellars sunk in such ground will be ] lamp at the foot of the wall, the moist- < irp pvtnndincr out on the cellar floor. 1 vhile any small knoll, caused by uneven :xcavation. may be perfectly dry on top, ind even, as has occurred in my practice, :he clav opening in scams from contracion in drying, while but a few feet iway the mud was three to six inches leep. This has been noticed eveu in a louse situated on a small plateau with apid drainage to all sides.?Building Trade? Jjxirnal. Photographing In Colors. The latest invention in photography is ;he discovery of a process by which colors as well as objects may be photographed. By the use of several plates instead one, three negatives are taken on plates specially prepared. These arc exposed in a triple camera. In front of them "light filters" are set, carefully ad justed, so a? tj admit to each plate the amount of light just requisite to impress on tho negative the picture of such a i color as will, when combined with the ( other two colored negatives, reproduce the desired color and light and shade of the object photographed. In a recent lecture Mr. Ives, the inventer, exhibited the photograph of a landscape, in which the different shades of green in foliage 1 and varied colors of sky, house, and ( barn, with the rich orange of Autumn i leaves, were perfectly portrayed. This I will work a revolution even in photo- 1 engraving, while the composite photo- I graphic process, producing the fine lines | of wood engraving, which the gelatin- i ized zinc plate was not able to furnish, ' now rivals handwork so accurately that j the difference is not discernible except to , the expert.^Witydelphia Inquirer. i : s; - - " ' ' / "eeligious reading. "Ye Are My Witneupa " Tell me, pilgrim, faint and weary, Traveling o'er this pathway dim, Are you shedding light around you, Are you witnessing for Him? Do you try to tell the story Of the precious Saviour's love? Are you nungering and thirsting Evermore your love to prove? Are you seeking out the lost ones Whom the Master died to win? Are you showing them the fountain That can wash away the ir sin? Are you looking by the wayside .for the weary ones wno ram Do you take them to the Saviour, Who has promised rest for all? Do you love to read th9 Bible,? Is it precious to your soul? Are its treasures growing richer As you travel toward the goal? Do you love to talk of Jesus More than all the world beside? Does it bring a holy comfort With his people to abide? Have you made a consecration Of your time and earthly store? If your all is on the altar, Then the Master asks no more. Thus, 0 pilgrim, should we journey, Showing forth the Master s praise, With our lamp all trimmed and burning, TUof fV?A wnwlrl motf nofnVi f.liAli* rovo Aunv buu nvnu rnuj vwwu v>a?u * wj A ftodlrH Home. A little boy, three years old, whose father was careless, prayerless and irreligious,spent several months in the dwelling of a godly family, where he was taught in the simple elements of divine truth. The seed fell in good and tender soil, and the child learned to note the difference between a prayerless and a Christian dwelling. One day, as some one was conversing with the little fellow about the great and good God, the child said: "We haven't any God at my papa's house 1" Alas, how many such houses there are in the world?houses where there is no prayer, no praise, no worship, no God. Ana what houses are they for children, ay, and for men and women, tool * How much better is the pure atmosphere of Christian love than the cold, selfish worldliness of a godless home.?[Messenger of Peace. The Faithful Laborer. I see a young man devoting himself to the service of the Redeemer. I see him taking his stand as the firm advocate of every good cause, and lending his efficient co-operation to all measures which look to the promotion of virtue and happiness among his fellow-creatures. I see him, possibly, exchanging the pursuits of business, or the practice of a liberal profession, for the ministry of reconciliation. I trace him through all that variety and opulence of labors which attach to his high vocation, the teacher, the guide, the comforter, the sympathizing friend of his people, joyful in their joy and sorrowful in their sorrow. I behold him going forth year after year, in sunshine and in storm, bearing precious seed and scattering it broadcast over ilia plantation, sometimes witu a weeping and sometimes with a hopeful heart; and then at lust I see him, tnia same faithful laborer, returning as the sun goes down to-his Father's house, bending under his yellow sheaves and rejoicing with a joy unspeakable and full of glory. And I turn from this scene to ask what there is in all the splendor of earth?in its riches and in its renown, in its coronets and in its diadems that shines with a beauty so ineffable and so glorious as these same yellow sheaves 1 ?[Dr. H. A Boardman. I*raying: with Chlldien. The loving instruction of a mother may Beem to have been thrown away, but it will appear after many days. "When I was a little child," said a good old man, "my mother used to bid me kneel down beside her, and place her hand on my * head while she prayed. Ere I was old enough to know, her worth, she died, and I was leit too much to my own guidance. Like others, I was innlmAH uttiI naocinno Vuif. mrQAlf checked, and, as it were, drawn back by a' soft hand upon my head. When a young man, I traveled in foreign lands, ana was exposed to many temptations; but when I would have yielded, that same hand was upon my head, and I was saved. I seemed to feel its pressure as in the happy davs of Infancy, and sometimes there came with it 9 voice in my heart, a voice that waa ri>eyed: ''Oh, do not this wickedness, my ?n, nor sin against God." uMv mother prayed for me a long while, and then was taken home. Fifteen years lfter she died, her prayers were answered, ind I was converted. Then I began to pray For ray father. I longed above anything else for his salvation, and seven years after I began praying he was converted." This was about the substance of a testimony given in luring the week by a man who was endeavoring to encourage others to continue "instant in prayer" for the salvation of those ihey loved. A Celebrated Bible. In the congressional library at Washington there is one book which amid the myriad Comes of bibliothecal lore that adorns the trails of the celebrated gathering,commands and receives the attention and admiration of ;hose who pass through its spacious aisles, it is a Bible. To describe it literally, it is of size about 15 by 12 mcnes; its leaves are vi parchment and on every page are written two columns of sacred truth. At the head j{ every page, ns well as at the beginning of a very chapter, the initial letter is beautifully expressed by a large letter in colored iuks, and within its compass is portrayed some Qgure or character illustrative of the chapter which follows. Not a stain or erasure is seen upon a single page; amid the lone rec3rd of Bible truth the words of Jehovah and ^ha teachings of Jesus seem mos-" strikingly jrand and beautiful from the purity of the page, the beauty of their transcription. Five years wore exhausted in this toilsome tvork, nnd the result was a production unjqualed in the handicraft of art nnd unexcelled in all the works of literature. Tlio Dook has its own keeping; within a glass receptacle its pages lie open for inspection, and tvhen one more curious than another ventures to lift the lid of the case it is only to find that every page is spotless and every letter perfect. A beautiful legend is connected with this w>k: that lone vears aeo in the fifteenth :entury, ono who had immured himself in Monastic lifo for certain great sins which he ;hought himself to have committed, sought 3y prayers and this system of penance to propitiate the divine favor. Five years of patient, unremitting toil svere given to the task. Daydawn and night larkness found him ever and devotedly at ais work, until at last the final page was i written, the last word inscribed. He lifted the pago and kissed it, and closing the leaves, turned from his labors for rest. The day tvas passing into darkness when ho lay down to sleep. It was the peaceful repose of the weary and heavy laden; his spirit was exhaled and the morning bmught no awakening. The silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl broken, and in the golden streets of that aew and better life, "wherein dwelleth righteousness," he was forever at peace. Beautiful, grandly beautiful, as was this ? JO :_4J? ?H f|?? Lnagmiiceui/ irtuiaunptivsii, n ?uo uuu uu wuuv was needed to secure the divine acceptance. An easier path is opened to us, the whisperings of infinite Jove come falling upon our hearts, ' 'I am the way, the truth, and the life." The narrow way is opened, the pearly ijates are ajar, and we who will may enter in, assured of the joys and rewards which are promised hereafter to the chosen people 3? God.?[lllus. Chr. TVeekly A Terrible Error. It is timo that the terrible error that beeririnkinc is comparatively harmless by the s do of the consumption of spirits should be corrected. That lie has been one of the most potent means through which the rum power has extended its empire over the people of this country. In its effects upon the confirmed drunkard it is certainly a3 bad as whisky, and to the majority it is but the introduction to the use of "hard" drinks. Beer should have no quarter from the friends of temperance. No matter in what form rum appears, it is drank because of the alcohol in it, and for the sake of the exhilaration which that poison gives the system in the first stages of drunkenness.?Toledo Blade. TEMPERANCE. The Curse of Ram. " Could oceans, rivers, seas and lakes, And all the names thai; water takes, Beneath the expanded sky, Be turned to ink of blackest hue, With every drop of morning dew; TV ere every shrub and every tree, And every blade of grass wo see Made pens to write withal; Were every man in every clime A scribe to use those pens: Were each Methuselah in age, And every moment wrote a page? A book ns large, could we suppose, As this whole earthly ballAll would bo tired and die, The pens would every one wear out, TVin hnolr writ within, without. The ink be drained, quite dry,? To write the curso of rum: 0, then, Angels would fail as well as men? Archangels e'en would fail? And till eternity should end A long eternity they'd spend, Nor then have told the tale." Cofl'ee Koom*. It is said that many of the liquor dealers in Philadelphia who have been refused licenses by tne Excise Court have determined to continue their places as milk and luncheon shops. It would certainly seem as though the closing up of fourteen or fifteen hundred beer and ' 'free lunch" resorts in one city ought to leave some openings for a trade like that now proposed. It is natural to suppose that at least a few of the men who have been in the custom of quenching their thirst or satisfying their hunger in the saloons will now turn for the same purpose to the more convenient eating-houses. The saloons, however, hold out certain inducements to wayfaying men that the ordinary milk and Inncheon shops do not possess. The former furnish not only food and drink, but they furnish the refreshment of rest. The saloon answers to its patron many of the purposes of a club house, a place of rendezvous, of social entertainment. He must patronize the bar to a greater or less extent, but after that the privileges of the place are open to him; he may read the papers, or play cards, or tell stories with his boon, companions. The restaurants do not offer these privileges to their patrons. As soon as the latter have completed the particular business on which they came they are expected to make way others. The restaurant does not hold itself out as a place for anything else than the furnishing of food and drink, and for this reason it doe3 not take the place of the saloon. This leads us to the consideration of the question whether some substitute cannot be found for the saloon which will include such harmless and proper accompaniments as the saloon may possess without its dangerous and degrading ones. In England this question has been answered very satisfactorily in the establishment of coffee-houses, places that combine the features of a restaurant w'th those of an unpretentious but inviting club-room. It will be remembered that an attempt was made about.two years ago to introduce a coffee-house system in New York, modeled after the English plan. A committee of prominent citizens was appointed to take tne subject under consideration. After carefully loolcing over the ground they cam," 1 to the conclusion that the scheme was not a practical one, and it was therefore dropped. In spite of this, however, we believe that coffee houses are needed in our large cities j to-day as much as they are in England, | and that in this way lies one of the most practical and effective agencies for the overthrow of the saloon power. In a city like New York where there is always a large floating population, where manjr are forced TO IIVB UII11U IU? ciieeueao auu iui uiuuiug surroundings of the tenements and lodging houses, some provision must be made for meeting the social needs of the people. The saloon meets them to some extent, and herein lies a large part of itspower for evil. Statistics show that the coffee-houses of England have a decided effect in decreasing drunkenness and crime. We are confident that like results would follow their introduction here. In the establishment of an American coffeehouse system there is an opportunity for a large and noble philanthropic effort.?New York Observer. Drink In England. The monster evil of England at this moment is still drink. It is, to use the phrase applied by Emerson to the far less universal and overwhelming evil of slavery: "An accursed mountain of sorrow." I know no subject on which the n<*tional conscience is so fatally seared as it were with a hot iron. I think tnat it would be impossible that the ffti* o?jorr?Viino* onH rnrlinnl TAfnrTO ill our drink legislation could be opposed, as it is, by fatuous jokes and decrepit epigrams if those vrbo have so long successfully resisted the righteous demand of suffering multitudes could only see, as the parish clergyman, the prison chaplain aud the hospital surgeon see, tbe hideous train of ruin, disease and unutterable wretchedness which the present condition of our liquor traffic entails. I can answer for it that in my own parish?vliich contains many of the poorest?there would be hardly any crime, or absolute destitution, or hopeless misery, ix we could eliminate the curse of drink, fostered by multitudes of needless ginshops. We spend on drink ?126,000,030 a year, and indirectly a sum almost ijconceiyable. In the "Judicial Statistics for 1S66," page 20,1 find that 163,139 persons were summarily proceeded against for being drunk and disorderly. In the London district about 30,000 are yearly arrested for drunkenness, and of these 15,600 are women. The numbers may mean nothing to some readers, to others ttey mean crimes of every degree n# nfnlonno on/1 infurnu?tVin fif>nrlish kiekinc? and beating and maiming of wives,the brut.i" ill treatment of young children, the overlaying and slow murder and starvation of ten3 of thousands of infants, theempoisonment of blood in another generation of criminals and harlots. For the number of those arrested for drunkenness is known to be a very small fraction of the number of drunkards. The drink traffic is strong in the influence of wealthy capitalists, find brewers and gin distillers are freely elevated tc the House of Lords. In defense of our present drink laws there is a banded union of the triple forces of ignorance, appetite, and interest. Nevertheless, the fact remains that drink is the chief cause of our worst national disgraces as a nation; that we sin, and have been sinning for years with a high hand against God and man, by forcing our drink on the helpless childhood of tho world; that we are decimating and demoralizing and even destroying the poor aboriginal races with which wo come in contact; that from John o' Groat's house to Land's End we dennr-?fl of ardent spirits, and that "intoxicating drink is the greatest fnctor of crime, pauperism, orphanhood, prostitution, insanity, and disease."? Archdeacon Farrar. in Fortniahtlu Review. Temperance News and Notes. A brewer in Mishima, Japan, is said to have turned his brewery into a church and school-room for girls. Lucknow, India, has one TV. C. T. U.. one Blue Ribbon Society, one Juvenile Temple, and three or four Good Templar lodges. Dr. Willard Parker, an eminent New York physician, says: "By physiological inauiries, it has beun established that alcohol is a poisoa." The population of the Kansas penitentiary has decreased sixty during the past year, and several poor houses have closed for lack of patronage. About 700 cases have been successfully treated without alcohol in the National Temperance Hospital, Chicago, in the two years since it was founded. Temperance Temples are being built by local and State unions, and a general purpose of living in their own unhircd houses pervades the W. C. T. U. The new Massachusetts law defines intoxicating liquor to bo "ale, porter, strong beer, lager ceer, eider, all wines, and any boverage containing more than one por cent, of alcohol, by volumo, at sixty degrees Fahrenheit, as well as distilled spirits." "For nearly every mnn who lingers in a saloon some one waits and prays at home," claims the Omaha World. Every man who lingers in a saloon sacrifices something?his intellect, his home, his love, his prospects, his hope. There is no compensation. Against Saloon Domination. The New York Observer is authority for the following: The sentiment of chis county is overwhelmingly against the continuance of saloon domination. There can be no mistaking this fact. The present movement is not dependent upon a wave of popular excitement; it is not born of a passing enthusiasm. It is the outcome of years of wrong and suffering induced by the terrible drink traffic; it is a revolt of the people against a power whose reign of outrage, vice and crime has become too terrible to be longer endured. The forty-fourth annual session of the National Division, sons of Temperance, will be held in the city of Toronto, Canada, commencing Wednesday, July 11,1838. - " - . V - ' - ' ' ' > - . ' r " . j.. V ' HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. The Care of Lamps. The disagreeable flickering of a student lamp is sometimes caused by tiny particles of the wick dropping into the inside tube of the cylinder surrounding the wick, thus preventing the oil flow, ing freely from the barrel. Before inserting a new wick remove the oil barrel, and empty the lamp entirely of oil, pour into the opening, down the wick cylinder and wherever fluid will touch inside, boiling water to which has been added a spoonful of spirits of ammonia. Lamps are now so universally used that the care of them has become one of the daily and most important of domestic duties, not only of the countrv, but of the luxurious city home. If not' attended to every day, the perforations of the burners become clogged with carbon and dust in a short time, refuse to move easily, the light is dimmed, and a most unpleassnt odor ensues. If occasionally our duties exceed the limits of our time, and we find the wick well-nigh consumed, a strip of old soft cotton may be pinned to the end of the wick for the nonce, and thus convey the oil to it. At some inauspicious moment a hole in the lamp chimney confronts one, no other is nearer than the groccr's; a neatly cut piece of letter-paper, generously covering the offending fracture, nicely pasted on, will serve until we can do better. Whenever the lamps are filled, with a clean soft piece of flannel polish the burners and mountings of the lamps. It is but a moment's work and keeps them bright and shining. Smoked chimneys and ill-kept lamps are trying alike to eyesight and temper. A clear, bright light add3 so much to the comfort and enjoyment of the evening occupations, that one is well repaid for the daily disagreable task of keeping xi i r. -j. j tr i tiie lumps ill periecb uruur. nuivscuc via and lamps are now so cheap that, even in the country, it is no longer regarded as a luxury, but a necessity to have an abundance ?f light for home cheer and use. The lamps used for sewing and reading should be provided with shades, not only for the comfort they impart, but for the positive saving they are for the eyesight. A chimney frequently breaks from having been too tightly screwed on; the glass expands from the heat of the flame. The wick is more evenly snuffed by nibbing the charred edge with a piece of paper or soft rag, then by trimming with a pair of scissors. Before using lamp wicks soak them in vinegar, and dry thoroughly to prevent their smoking. Turning the wicks lightly into the tube, and removing the chimney before blow ing out the flame, is a safe and cleanly method of putting out a lamp. Not only is the odor from a lamp partially turned down extremely disagreeable, but tne noxious gases from it are equally unhealthy. The chimney may be quickly, and easily cleansed by breathing upon and into it, and wiping and polishing it with newspaper. A piece of red flannel put into the bowl of the lamp, besides giving a dash of color, gathers the impurities of the oil. Burners sometimes get clogged and refuse to turn up and down. This may be remedied by putting them into an iron kettle containing a quart of water and a double handful of wood-ashes. After boiling a little while take out, and with a soft rag wash and dry them perfectly. Vnn moir Via ?iif intn a hntVi MmnfUfld V/* tUWJ ?VM*J WW j/uv of equal parts of milk and vinegar, and boiled. If after putting the wick into the bowl of the lamp, and before pouring in any oil, the bowl is crammed with sponge, the wick and sponge then saturated with the oil to the fullest capacity of the bowl, the lamp is converted into a safety lamp, so that there is no danger to life from accidental upsetting or breakage of the lamp, or fear of spots on table-scarf or carpet. Add more sponge as the wick bums away; keep the bowl full of it. The lamp will continue to burn until the oil in wick and sponge is exhausted.?Independent. Becipes. Thickening for Soup.?Put into a saucepan half a pound of butter; when hot, stir into it half a pound of very dry four; stir this over the fire till a delicate brown, taking care that it does not burn. One large tablespoonful thickens a quart of soup. This thickening will keep a a long time. Scalloped Paiisnips.?A nice way of cooking parsnip is to take it prepared as for the balls, except the eggs. Place in the bottom of a buttered pudding dish, cg. '. er with bread or cracker rmmlvs. season with net)Der and salt. dot it with bits of butter^ and bake it in the oven to a nice brown. Poverty Pje.?Pare and slice as many potatoes as you think you will need; put them in a baking-pan; pour in water so you can just see it. llaco slices of fresh pork, bacon, or beefsteak here and there over the potatoes. Sprinkle with flour, pepper, and salt. Roast in oven for one hour. Asparagus Salad.?Boil two bunchea of asparagus in salted water until quite tender. Place on the ice until very cold. Serve with the following1 dressing: Two tablespoonfulsof olive oil,two saltspoonfuls of salt, one of pepper, ana two tablespoonfuls of sugar. Mix all together and pour over the asparagus. Raspberry Vinegar.?Red raspberries, any quantity, or sufficient to fill a stone jar nearly full, then pour upon them sufficient vinegar to cover them. Cover the jar closely and set it aside for eight or ten days,, tlien strain mrougn flannel or rnusliD, and add to the clear liquor one and a half pounds of sugar to each pint, place over a fire and boil for a few minutes. Allow it to cool, and bottle for use. The Highest Waterfalls. According to a recent calculation, the highest waterfalls in the world are the three Krimbs Falls, in the I'pper Prinzgau; these falls have a total height of 1148 feet. The three falls next in height aro found in Scandinavia?the Vermo Foss, in Romsdal, 831 feet; the Vettis Foss on the Sogne Fjord, 853; the Il.K lrv. i Foss, in Thelemarken, 804 feet. J r\f 01 f/Jflf >V11j u uixrcusu iu vi /vxv ?w?) tlie hiee Vellno Falls, 591 feet, near Tcrri (li e birthplace of Tucitus), follow next in order, and they are succeeded by the '.hrc Tessa Falls, in the Val Formazz, 541 feet. The Gastein Falls, in the Gastein Valley, 4G0 feet, rank between tin Skjaggodal Foss, in the Ilardangci- Fjord, 424 feet, and the Boring Koss, .n the same fjord. If the width ot the fal;s is taken into consideration the most rnuosing are those of the Victoria IV's 'of the Zambezi, which are refit h li. with a width of 8200 feet. A long w behind these falls come the Niagara 1' .lis, 177 feet high and 1908 feet wide. Beekeo*vis say that honey from apple blossoms ihe purest and clearest derived frou. any flower. It will run lik^ water. ) loney from goldenrod ojj? ?m . 'WWr. ?' v-' * '. - " ' "* - % MONTE CARLO. HOST NOTORIOUS GAMBLING! RESORT IN THE WORLD. * S' The Motley Crowd That Tempt# ... Fortune Around the Roulette Wheel?An Institution Operated by a Prince. ^ In a letter to the New York Star, Will Carleton gives this vivid description of Italy's infamous gambling resort: Two -. - ~l thrifty looking cities just out upon twoj little promontories along the Riviera?di-j vided bv a small and handsome bar.! :'7 Lofty mountains behind them keep bacld the cold wiDter air. They are full of gardens, of palaces, of well-kept hotels,j y of private wealth-stocked villas. One of these little cities is Monaco,and contains' the palace ~5f the Prince; the other isl Monte Carlo, and contains his gambling hall. I The "Casino" has a great many attractive things that bear no reference to' gambling. _ It has a reading room, in fjfif which are many of the principal news-' papers of the different countries of the world; an opera house, where two concerts are given daily, and eighty skillful' musicians frequently occupy the stage.' 1 Everything is full of splendor; a millionth part of the wealth expended here would carry plenty and happiness to our little town up yonder on the mountain. ; After you have read the papers and listened awhile to the music, suppose you pass through a spacious hall into the gambling room. Your name,, your nationality, your hotel, are all recorded be- \". fore you are given a ticket of admission. 'J8 You walk into spacious rooms, fitted up " with much splendor,?gigantic parlors,, in fact; and here you see one of the most' intensely interesting sights of the nine- "1^ teeth century. The room is full of people?hundreds of them?well dressed, intelligent look-, ing and quiet No reception of half the number of guests was ever half so etiU; a' loud voice would be noticeable. Two things are conspicuous by their absence* laughter and children. People are too anxious to laugh; too wise to bring their little ones?even if it were allowed. Vmi rnmfl to something which looks V'rSg like an overgrown billiard table with* smooth edges; a score of people sit' around it, interspersed with six employes^ ^ of the establishment. Many others stand behind them: the majority of them are gambling. The most common coin used1 ' J? is the silver fivo-franc piece?equal in sizo and value to an American dollar.' ' This is the least stake accepted; the greatest is 6000 francs, or $1200. i j In the center of.the table is a Email horizontal wheel; it is now and then' ?? I tun^ rt^adly. An ivory ball about ^ J j large as a toy marble is within it; and this is spun in the other direction.' When the wheel stops this ball drdps into one of thirty-seven little niches, and the particular one into which it will fall is the thing which all these people have been betting about. If you think it will fall into one of the red compartments, you put your silver or gold on a little red diamond at one corner of the table; if you think it will fall ia: an even number you lay it on a place so marked; or you can bet on any number, -' or set of numbers up to tbirty-seven. If you lose, one of tne attendants Quietly draws your money in with a small rake ".$ which lies on the table before him and: places it with numerous other coins; if " . you win he throws you whatever you are' "entitled" to. -? From 11.30 in the morning to 11.30 at night this game goes on. The air roulette stands are generally crowded, as well as - ' two card tables, where the lowest stakes . are 20 francs or $4. Sometimes the green - j cloth is so jeweled with gold and silver coin that you can hardly see its texture.' The face of the gamblers are a unique study. Many of these people are not pofessional gamesters at all, they are good citizens, taking this little opportunity of breaking their country's laws,1 outside their country. Others are poor invalids, who strive to get from "this' intense amusement some alleviation of their pain. Some are rich people, who can afford to lose'a few hundred francs per day and are perfectly willing to win, if it huppens so. Still others are "stool pigeons," both male and female, who are doing their best to draw the general public into the nets. But every one's face has a serious, studious look, as if he or she was performing the most laborious task of life. Seldom do you see a inaije among this doleful congregation,gatherecTW^, for the worship of Mammon. ! They all keep little records of thenmn- ' bers that win; hoping no doubt to make from them "systems," from which they ~ J i? A 11 OVA can succeeu m wo lutuio. un wuing?toiling?in the hot, stifling, uaventilated atmosphere. Prince Charles the Third, who rules over this little country of five and a half square miles, lives near Paris, is sick,! and they say not very far from death J He leases the diabolical privileges of these gambling tables to a company, in which he himself owns considerable stock. After paying him his rent, paying all the expenses of the establishment, paying bands to play, flowers to grow, confederates to plot, newspapers to keep | auite and a thousand and one incidental costs of this expensive place, the company has remaining $3,500,000 peryear ?all won from the public. ^ Hundreds of people come here each day from Nice, from Mentone, from San A Remo, from other resorts of the Riviera fl ?stay and play all day and go back by 9 the "gambler's train" in the evening. During the winter, there is said to be y no week in which some poor ruined soul ' does not depart from these mockingly beautiful hills by the swift but terrible route of suicide. They are found poisoned in thoir rooms, self-shot in the groves, hanging by ropes to the trees. Many are discovered in the gray of the V.tt clinrn.<?rpd SnieS Of the IUU1 UJIig uj vj "management," and spirited away without the general public knowing it. T.ie Biggest Geyser at Work. The Excelsior geyser in the Yellowstone Park is in operation. This geyser is in the great middle geyser basin, close to the Fire Hole river. It is in the form of an immense pit 320 feet in length aud 200 feet wide, and the aperture through . which it discharges its volume of water is nearly 200 feet in diameter. Its general appearance is that of a huge boiling spring, and for many years its true character was not suspccted. Its first^^^HBBj eruption occurred in 1880, when revealed itself as a stupendous The power of its eruptions was^^^^H9^R|^B incrcdible, sending au imnicnsj^?[^Qj^QHHflH[ of water to heights of and hurling with^fl9^^HH|fl^Mn bowlders from one Its prescn^^^HH^H^^H|^^DH^^H be a repetition its the ported rushin^flnnjUMfiflnHnnHHBH be