The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, June 13, 1888, Image 3
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Jt REV. DR. TAIJAGE.
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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
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"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