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I KEV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: "The Assassination." Text: " Whosoever doth not bear hii cross, and come after Me, cannot be My Disciple.11?Luke xiv., 27. The cross was a gibbet on which criminals were put to death. It was sometimes made in the shape of the letter T, sometimes in the shape of tbe letter X, sometimes in the shape of the letter I?a simple upright; sometimes ; two cross pieces against the perpendicular bar, so that upon the lower cross piece the criminal partially sat. But whatever the style of the cross, it was always disgraceful and always agonizing. When Darius conquered Babylon he put 200 captives to death on the cross. When Alexander conquered Tyre, he put 2000 captives to death on the cross, So it was just an ordinary mode of punishment But in 5^ ail tne roresc or crosses on cue auis ana m the valleys of the earth, there is one cross that attracts more attention than any other. It is not higher than the others, it is not . made out of different wood, there is nothing peculiar in the notch at which the two pieces are joined, and as to the scene, they witnessed crucifixions every few weeks; so that I see a reckless man walking about the hill and kicking carelessly aside a skull, and wondering who the villain was that had so flat and misshapen a head ; and hero is another skull, ' and there on the hillside is another skull. In' deed, the Bible says it was "a place of skulls." But about the victim on one of these crosses ail ages are crying: "Who is he? was he a man? was he a God? was he man and God?" Through the darkness of that gloomy day I come up close enough to the cross to see who it is. It is Jesus. How did he come there? Had he come up on the top of the hill to look off upon the beautiful landscape or .upon a brilliant sunset? No. He came there ill and exhausted. People sometimes wonder why Christ expired so quickly on the cross, in six or Beven hours, while other victims have been on the cross for forty-eight hours before life wu extinct. I will tell you the reason. He was exhausted when he came there. He had been scourged. We are horrified at the cruelties of the whipping post, but those cruelties were mercy compared with the scourging of Jesus Christ I saw at Antwerp a picture made by Rubens i?Rubens's picture of the scourging of Jesus ^^Christ. It was the most overmastering pictSKire I ever looked at, or ever expect to see. SK As the long frocked official opened the door ^ that hid the picture, there he was?Christ with back bent and bared. The fiagellator stood with the upper teeth clenched over the lower hip. as though to give violence to the blows. There were the swollen shoulders of Christ. There were the black ana blue napes, denied even the relief of bleeding. There was the flesh adhering to the. whips as they were lifted. There were the marks where the knots in the whips gouged out the flesh. There stood the persecutor, with his foot on the calf ^ of the leg of the Saviour, balancing himself. O! the furious and hellish look on those faces, grinning vengeance against the Son of God. The picture seized me, it overwhelmed me; it seemed as if it would kill me. I do not think I could have looked at it five minutes and have lived. But that, my friends, was before Christ had J started for Calvary. That was only the whipping. Are you ready for your journey to the cross? The carpenters have split the timber into two pieces. They are neavy and they are long pieces, for one of the ? must be fastened deep down in the earth, last the struggling of i the victim upset the structure. They put this timber upon the shoulder of Christ very gradually first, to see whether he can stand It, and after they find he can stand it they . put the whole weight npon him. Forward now, to Calvary! The hooting and the yelling mob follow on. Under the weight of the cross, Christ being weary and sick, he stumbles and falls, and they jerk at his robe, indignant that he should have stumbled and fallen, and they cry: "Get up, get up!" Christ, putting one hand on the ground and knnJ AM + AHAeO VlOaO IAAWTKT WW UIUIU uauu V/U bUO LI UOO, * iow, Into the face of Mary, his mother, for sympathy; bat they tell her to stand back, it is , no place for a woman. "Stand back and top this crying." Christ moves on with His burden upon His shouldere, and there is a boy that passes along with Him, a boy holding a mallet and a few nails. I wouder what they are for? Christ moves on until the burden is so great He staggers and falls flat into the dust and faints dead away, and a ruffian puts his foot on him and shakes "him as he would a dead dbg, while another ruffian looks down at him _ wondering whether he has fainted away, or whether he is only pretending to faint away, and with jeer and contempt indescribable, ays: "Fainted, have you/ Fainted! Get up! get on!" Now they have arrived at the foot of the hill. Off with his clothes! Shall that loathsome mob look upon the unrobed body of Christ? Yea The commanding officers say: "Unfasten thegirdle, take off the coat; strip him!" The work is done. But bring back the coat, for here are the gamblers tossing up coin on the ground, saying: "I have it, 1 have it; it is mine!" He rolls it up and puts ft under his arm, or he examines it to see what fabric it is made of. Then they put the cross upon the ground and they stretch Christ upon it, and four or five men hold him down while they drive the spikes home. At every thump a groan?a groan. Alas! alas! The hour passes on and the time comes when they must crucify him. Christ has only one garment left now, a ' cap, a cap of thorns. JNo danger that it will fall off, for the sharp-edges have punctured the temples and it is sure and fast. One ruffian takes ho:d of one end of the short beam of the cross, and another ruffian takes hold of the other end of the short beam of the cross, and another ruffian puts his arms around the waist of Christ, and another ruffian takes hold of the end of the long beam of theiross, and altogether they move on antil they come to the hole digged in the AArth unrl with Awful nlunce it iars down with its burden of woe. it is not the picture of a Christ, it is not the statue of Christ, as you sometimes see in a cathedral; but ic is the body of a bleeding, living, dying Christ. They sometimes say he had five wounds, bat they have counted wrong. Two wounds for the hands, two wounds for the feet, one wound for the side, they say; five wounds. No; they have missed the worst and they bare missed the most Did you ever see the bramble out of which that crown of thorns was made) I saw one on a Brooklyn ferryboat, in the bands of a gentleman who had just returned from Palestine; a bramble just lilu that out of which the crown of thorns was made. O, how cruel and how stubborn were the thomsl And when that cap ol thorns was put upon Christ, and it was pressed down upon him, not five wounds, but ten, twenty, thirty?I cannot count them. There were three or four absences that made that scene worse. First, there was the absence of water. The climate was hot; the fever, the Inflammation, the nervous prostration, the gangrene had seized upoi him, and he terribly wanted water, His wounds were worse than gunshot fractures, and yet no water. A Turk in the Thirteenth century was crucified on the bank: of a river, so that the sight of the watei might tantalize him. And O! how th< thirst of Christ must have tantalized as H< tnoughtof the Euphrates ana me Jordan anc the Amazon and all the fountains of earth and heaven poured out of His own hand They offered Him an intoxicating draughl made out of wine and myrrh, but He declined it He wanted to die sober. No water. Then, my friends, there was the absence ol light. Darkness always exasperates trouble I never shall forget the night in the suramei of 1873, in the steamer Greece, mid Atlantic every moment expecting the steamer to g( down. All the lights in the cabin were blown out. The Captain came crawling or his hands and knees, for he could not stanc upright, so violently was the vessel pitching and be cried: "Light up, light up!" Th( steward said: "We can't light up; the can dies are gone and the holders are gone." Th( Captain said: "I can't help that; light up!' The storm was awful when the lights wen burning; worse when the lights went out Then there was the absence of faithfu nurses, When you are ill, it is pleasant U have the head bathed and the hands and fee1 rubbed. Look at the hand3 and feet ol /"*u 4-U/x fooa nf Phriat. Thflffi W0r< Viii lav, JVA/a. av vuD tuvv v* w? ?? women there who had cared for the sick, bui none of them might come up near enough t< help. There was Christ'* mother, but sh< might not come up near enough to help They said: "Stand pack, stand back; this i H0 place for you." The high priests and th< soldier* wanted it their own way; they had ii their own way. The hours pass on and it is 12 o'clock of th< fiavior's suffering, and it is 1 o'clock, and il is 2 o'clock, and it is almost S o'clock. Tak( the last look at the suffering face; wan anc pinched, the purple lips drawn back against ihe tfteta, the eyet red with weeping ant* I *"? \ * sunken as though grief had pushed them back, blackness under the lower lid, the whole body adroop and shivering with the last chill, the breath growing feebler and feebler and feebler ana feebler until he gives one long, deep, last sigh. He is dead! O! my soul, he is dead. Can you tell why? Was he a fanatic dying for a principle that did not amount to anything? Was he a man infatuated? No; to save yoursoul from sin, and mine, and make eternal life possible, he died. There had to be a substitute for sin. Who shall it be? "Let it be me," said Christ, 1 "let it be me." You understand the mean' ing of that word substitution. You were drafted for the last war; some one took your i place, marched your march, suffered your i wounds and died at Gettysburg. Christ i comes to us while we are fighting our battle i with sin and death and hell, and He is our i substitute. He marches our march, fights our battle, suffers our wounds and dies our , death. Substitution! substitution!* How do you feel in regard to that scene described in the text, and in the region around about the text? Are your sympathies aroused? Or are you so aead in sin, and so ( abandoned by reason of your transgressions that you can look upon all that tearless and unmoved? No, no; there are thousands of people here this morning who can say in the depths of their soul: "JNo, no, no; if Jesus endured that, and all that for me, I ought to love him. I must love him, I will love him, I do love him. Here, Lord, I give myself to thee; 'tis all that I can do." But how are you going to test your love, and test your earnestness? My text gives a test It says that while Christ carried a cross for you. you must be willing to carry a cross for Christ "Well," you say, "I never could understand that There are no crosses to be carried in this land; those persecutions have passed, and in all the land there is no one to be crucified, and yet in the pulpit and in the prayer meetings you all keep talking about carrying a cross. What do you mean. sir f" l mean tnis: mac tnis is a cross wmcn Christ calls you to do, which is unpleasant and hard "0!" you say, "after hearing the story of this Christ and all that he has endured for me, I am ready to do anything for him. Just tell me what I have to do ana I'll do it I am ready to carry any cross," Suppose I should ask you at the close of a religious service to rise up, announcing yourself on the Lord s side?could vou do it? "O! no." you say, "I have a shrinking and a sensitive nature, and it would be impossible for me tD rise before a large assemblage, announcing myself on the Lord's side." Just as I feared. You cannot stand that cross. The first one that is offered ?ou, you reject Christ carried a mountain, Christ carried a Himalaya, Christ carried a world for you, and you cannot lift an ounce for Him. But nere is a man whose cross will be to announce among his business associates tomorrow morning on exchange that he has begun a new life; that while he wants to be faithful in his worldly duties, he is living for another world, and be ought to advise all those who are his associates, so far as be can influence them, to begin with him the Christian life. Could you do that, my brother? "Oh, no." you say, "not just that 1 think religion is religion, and business is business, and it would be impossible for me to recommend the Christian religion in places of worldly business." Just as I fearea There is a second cross offered you, and you cannot carry it Christ lifted a mountain for you; you cannot lift an ounce for Him. There is some one whose cross will be to present religion in the home circle. Would you dare to kneel down and pray, if your brother and sister were looking at you? Could you ask a blessing at the tea table? Could you take the Bible and gather your family around you, and read of Christ and heaven and your immortal soul? Could you then kneel and pray for a blessing on your household? "On!" you say, "not exactly that; I couldn't quite do that, because I have a very qutcs temper, ana it x proiessea religion and tried to talk religion in my household, and then after that I should lose my temper, they would scoff at me and say: 'You are a pretty Christian!'" So you are cowed down, and their sarcasm keeps you out of Heaven and away from Christ, when, under God, you ought to take your whole family into the kingdom. Christ lifted a mountain, lifted a world,for you; you cannot lift an ounce for Him. i see how it is; you want to be favorable to religion, you want to support Christian institutions, you like to be associated with those who love Jesua Christ; but as to taking a positive step on this subject, you cannot?you cannot; and my text, like a gate of a hundred bolts, bars * you away from peace on earth and glory in heaven. There are hundreds of men and women here brave enough in other things in life who simply, for the lack of manliness and womanliness, stray away from God. They dare not say: "Forever and forever, Lord Jesus, I take Thee. Tnou has redeemed me by Thy blood, here is my immortal spirit. Listen, all my friends. Listen, all the world." They are lurking around about the kingdom of God?they are lurking around about it, expecting to crawl in some time when nobody is looking, forgetful of the tremendous words of my text: "Whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, cannot be My disciple." A ? a# a noinKKArinflf ma All WlUWi Vt ? UVl^U W< ...Q VUU. WM ?MW that he was in a store in New York?just happened in?where there were many clerks, and a gentleman came in and said to a young man standing behind the counter: "Are you the young man that arose the other night in the Brooklyn Tabernacle and asked for prayers#" Without any flush of cheek he replied: "I am. I haven't always done right, and I have been quite bad; but since Iarose for prayers I think I am better than I was." It was only his was of announcing that he had started for the higher life. God will not cast out a man who is brave enough to take a step ahead like that. I tell you these things this morning because, my dear friends, I want to show you how light the cross is that we have to carry compared with that which Christ carried for us. Yoa have not had the flesh torn off for Christ's sake in carrying your cross. He fainted dead away under his cross. You have not carried the cross until it fetched the blood. Under his there was a pool of carnage that plashed the horses' fetlocks. You have friends to sympathize with you ip carrying the cross: Christ trod the winepress of God's wrath alone, alone! The cross that you and I ought to carry represents only a few days or a few years of trial. The cross that Christ carried for us had compressed into it the agonies of eternity. There has some one come here to-day whom you have not observed. He did not come through the front door; he did not come down any of these aisles; yet I know he is here. He is from the East, the far East He comee with blistered foot, and with broken heart, and cheecks red' not with health but with blood from the temples. I take hold of his coat and I say: "It does not seem to fit thee." "No," he says, "it is not mine; it is borrowed; it does not belong to me now. For my vesture did they cast lota." And I ; say to Him: "Thine eyes are red as though : from loss of sleep." He says: "Yes, the Son of man had not where to lay His head." ' And I touch the logon His back and I say: "Why carriest Thou this?" "Ah!" He says, J "that is a cross I carry for thee and for the sius of the whole world. That is a cross, i Fall into line, march on with Me in this pro| cession, take your smaller crosses and yoax lighter burdens, and join me in this march to I Vioavon ? Aniiwa imn that Drocession with ' our smaller crosses and our fighter burdens, , and Christ looks back and He sees some are r halting because, they _ cannot endure the j shame; or bearTihe'burden,"ani with a'volca 3 which has in it majesity and omnipotence, L He cries until all the earth trembles: "Who1 soever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, cannot be My disciple." s 01 my brethren, ray sisters?for I do not 1 *peak professionally, I speak as a brother would speak to a brother or sister?my ' brother, can you not bear a cross if at last > you can wear a crown? Come, now, let us divide off. Who is on the Lord's side? Who > is ready to turn his back upon the Lamb of ' God that taketh away the sin of the world? ' A Roman emperor said to a Greek archi1 tect: "You build me a coliseum, a grand 1 coliseum, and if it suits me I will crown you > in the presence of all the people, and I will 5 make a groat day of festival on your ac" count." The Greek architect did his work, J did it magnificently, planned the building, looked after its construction. The building J was done. The day for oponiug arrived. In the coliseum were the emperor and the great 1 architect. The emperor arose amid the plaud) its of a vast assembly and said: *'We have 6 gathered here to-day to open this coliseum [' and to honor the Greek architect, it is \' a great (lay for the Roman empire. * j Let this building be prosperous, and let ' : honor be put upon the Greek architect. 3 Oh, we must have a festival to-day. Bring * out those Christians and let us have them put to death at the mouth of the lions." The I Christians were put into the center of the 5 amphitheatre. It was to be a great celebrai tinn in their destruction. Then the lions, ? hungry and three-fourths starved, were let 6 ; out from their dens in the side of the amphi? ! theatre, and they came forth with mighty J . spring to destroy and rend the Christians. * I and all the galleries shouted: "Huzza, huzzal Long lire toe emperor!" Then the Greek architect arose In one of the galleries, and shouted until in the vast assemblage all heard him: "I, too, am a Christian!" and they seized him in their fury and flung him to the wild beasts, until his body, bleeding and dead, was tumbled over and over again in the dust of the amphitheatre. Could you have done that for Christ ? Could you, in a vast assemblage, all of whom hated Christ, have said: ''I am a Christian," or "I want to be a Christian?" Would you have had the ten thousandth part of the enthusiasm and the courage of the Greek architect? Nay, I ask you another question: Would you in an assemblage where tney are nearly all Christians?in an assemblage, a vast multitude of whom love Christ and are willing to live, and if need be to die, for him?would you dare to say: "I am a Christian," or "I want to be a Christian?" Would you say in the presence of the friends of Christ as much as the Greek architect said in the presence of the enemies of Christ? Oh, are there not multitudes here this morning who are ready to say: "Let the world look Will UO iuuiuiuau uui* man, the American missionaries, who with their wires and children were put to death in the awful massacre of Cawnpore, showing the place where the daggers of the Sepoys struck them- There will oe the Waldenses showing where their limbs were broken on the day when the Piedmoute9e soldiery ?itched them over the rocks. Will you and have any wounds to show? Have we fonght any battles for Christ? Oh, that we might all be enlisted for Christ, that we might all be willing to suffer for Christ, that we might all bear a cross for Christ When the Scottish chieftain wanted to raise an army they would make a wooden cross, and then set it on fire and carry it with other crosses they had through the mountains, through the highlands and among the people, and as they waved the cross the people would gather to the standard and fight for Scotland. To-day I come out with the cross of the Son of God. It Is a flaming cross ?flaming with suffering, flaming with triumph, flaming with glory-. I carry it out among all thepeople. Who will be on the Lord's side? Who will gather to the standard of Emmanuel? Across, a cross, a cross!. "Whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me. cannot be My disciple." Evils Wrought by Alcohol. Alcoholic beverages are insidious and dangerous potions, to be handled by their votaries, on peril of body and soul, with extreme caution. As a matter of fact, the caution often fails, and alcohol damns to horrid misery innumerable victims. The draught must be, indeed, moderate and infrequent that will not cloud the mind, unsteady the limb and stir up passion. Alcohol, demon-like in cunning and malicious intent, courts admission into the mouth amid smiles and promises. It flatters and caresses to distract the prey from its perfidy, and, meanwhile, it sinks its fangs into palate and stomach, to create an irritation which-its own fluid alone can temper; it shoots its venom through every nerve, which in ceaseless vibration will afterward clamor for a renewal of its fatal touch. The craving for alcohol, begotten of alcohol, ever waxes stronger; the moment comes when it is a wild passion, a fierce madness. It commends and obtains the most fearful sacrifices. In slavery to it woman forgets honor; the father in hellish laughter casts to the vendor of liquor that solitary dime that would stay the starvation of the child; the husband pawns the coat of the dying wife. The power of alcohol is mysterious. The muscular giant crouches in terror before its shrine, youth yields up freshness " m *?? ~ J mAAlra fnr ui mien tutu uuptn ui iui i/uuo, auu uiw? ??. its sake a mother's teal's and a bride's love. Old age at its bidding puts on the garment of idiocy, and closes its earthly journey in disgrace and sin. Intelligence will not ward off its arrows: poet, orator and statesman go forward chained to its chariot into Mamertine gloom. Piety does not withstand the fury of its breath. The very cedars of Lebanon have been laid low, the royal oaks of the forest have been uncrowned and flung into the deep valleys of ignominy and death. The evils wrought by alcohol are dreadfuL There is no other element in the material world equaling it in evildoing. There are poisons more potent, but they kill quickly, while alcohol gnaws away life slowly, so as meanwhile to pile upon its victim the full weight of sorrow and sin. Observe its accursed work?tearing up by the roots all virtues, bringing into action the latent passions, breathing particular vigor into the vilest and most beastly, closing out heaven's light from the mind, which expires in dense darkness, and heaven's grace Trom the soul, which loses all semblance with its creator. It reaches out over the body its clammy hand, wresting from it strength and firmness, planting deeply in the blooi channels tbe seeds of disease and death. 0 spirit of wine, be thy name demon, for demon thou art I This the first instalment of alcohol's havoc. The drunkard becomes for it an entrenched camp, from which in concentric circles it hurls ruin upon men ani women, who refusing its domination in their own hearts are yet, despite themselves, brought under Its vengeance. The home is made desolate. How ?acred the homel It is God's appointed treasury of pure and sweet love. There hapninBss hiihhles forth from ever-living springs: virtue germinates and blooms in native soil, watered by propitious dews from the skies. The homes or the land are the social units of which the aggregate is the nition. The nation in its wider sphere of action is the reflection of its homes. The poisonous breath of alcohol passes over the home: it is the passage of death. The drunkard's soul exhales hatred and sin; hearts of wife and mother break in anguish; the ceaseless tear-drop of sorrow glistens on the eye-lid, and the veil of gloom and despair darkens their faces. Infancy is f oy)ess; the atmosphere of shame and crime eavens the whole nature of sons and daughters, anri the putrid miasma thickens the air, which other families and the nation at large must breathe. Alcohol's hellish work troes beyond the drunkard's borne. There is physical and moral contaeion; other homes are smitten, and alcohol lifts up its sceptre within their enclosure. The drunkenness of an employe endangers an entire industry; that of a trusted guardian of public intere*t3 ruins fortunes and destroys precious lives. Poverty is bezotten, the sober and industrious are taxed to relieve it. The producers diminish, the drones increase, the course of general prosperity is retarded. Crime stalks forth, suggested and emboldened bv drink; and robberies and assaults, and murders and wreckages of holy purity make up the record of its riotings. Alcohol's evil fruits are not limited to earth. Drunkenness is a heinous sin which, unrep?nted of, forbids the doors of Paradise <to open. It is a sin-making sin, and nearly iall the doings of the soul which it has subdued are so many sins. The Christian who loves the Savior and for His sake lovea souls redeemed by Him, stands appalled before the dread ravages of alcohol In the spiritual world. Citizens of America, know and realize the danger I Evil-bearinz alcohol floods your land; its murky and noxious billows are dashing against your homes, and their angry crests risa to the very summits of the pillars upon which are set your free republican in- i stitutlons. ?Bishov Ireland. i ; , / ...... on, let all the galleries of earth and heaven and hell look on, I take Christ this day. I Come applause or abuse, come sickness or health, come life or death, Christ now, Christ forever." Are you for Christ? Are you against Him? The destinies of eternity tremble in the balance. It seems as if the last day had come, and we were gathered for the reckoning. "Behold! ne cometh with clouds, and every 1--.n ? Whof. T oqv fn nnA T flflV tJ/tJ &IU&U DCCIU1IU. nuuw *. J to all. What are you doing for Christ? What are you bearing for Christ? 01 Christian man, 01 Christian woman 1 Have you any scars to show in this conflict? When a war is over the heroes have scars to show. One hero rolls back his sleeve and shows a gunshot fracture, or he pulls down the collar and shows where he was wounded in the neck. Another man says: "I have never bad the use of my limb since I was wounded at that great battle.'' When the last day comes, when all our battles are over, will we have any wounds for Christ? Some have wounds ror sin, wounds for the devil, wounds gotten in fighting on the wrong side. Have we wounds that we can show?wounds gotten in the battle for Christ, and for the truth? On that resurrection day Christ will have plenty of scars to show. Christ will stand there and show the scars on his brow, the scars on his hands, the scars on his feet, and he will put aside the robe of his royalty and show the scar on bis side, and all heaven will break down with emotion and gratitude in one great sob, and then in one great hosanna. Will you and I have any scare to show? There will be Ignatius-en that day showing the mark of the paw and teeth of the lion that struck him down in the coliseum. There will be glorious John Huss showing just where on his foot the flames began on that day when his soul took wing of flame and soared up from Constance. There will be Hugh McKail ready to point to the mark on his neck where an ax struck him. There ?Ml 1? an/4 Pomnhot] And Fn?. THE ZOAEITES. ONE OF THE MOST SINGULAR SECTS IN AMERICA. A Community In Ohio in Which All Property is Held in Common? Their Live Stock?A Procession of Milkmaids. A letter from Zoar, Ohio, to the Worcester (Mass.) Spy, "says: This settlement of German mystics and communists, holding all property absolutely in common, is a complete little kingdom in itjelf. The Zoarites own 7000 acres of land in one tract, of which half is under cultivation, while the remainder is heavily timbered with valuable walnut, oak and pine trees. Their original purchase here was 10,000 acres, but 3000 have been sold from time to time at a great advance over first C03t. Every article, implement or machine that is used, wrought with, eaten, drunk or worn by the Zoarites, is produced in Zoar, as are also the materials of which it is composed. The only exceptions to this rule are coffee, tea, sugar and spices. The shoes the Zoarites wear are made by their own shoemaker from leather prepared by their own tanners from hides taken from their own cattle. The coal that warms them and cooks their food is dug in their own mines and is burned in stoves cast in their own foundry, from iron smelted in their own furnaces, from ore found in abundance on their own lands. The clothing that covers them is made by their own tailors, from cloth woven in their own mill from wool sheared from their own sheep. The beer they drink is brewed in their own brewery, from malt made by their own malsters and hops grown on their own lands. All manufacturing in Zoar is done by water power. Steam is scarcely used at all. The Tuscarawas river, by means of dams, is made to flow with sufficient swiftness and volume to supply thirty or forty horse-power to each of the Zoarite manufactories. Nearly all the machinery used was made in Zoar by Zoarite mechanics. One of their principal products is flour, of which, after supplying their own wants, they ship large quantities to Pittsburg, Cleveland, Washington and Baltimore. One of the chief places of interest in Zoar is the great collection of immense barns, in wnich the milch cattle are kept. A considerable portion of the Zoarites' wealth is invested in their live stock, and they have devoted much attention to determining what are really the best breeds. They have exSerimented largely with the Holstein, the ersey, the Alaerney and the Durham, and are now inclined to favor the last named, though all four varieties are well represented in their herds. Every sanitary and convenient device that modern ingenuity has been able to suggest is utilized in the construction of these cow stables. The stalls extend in long rows on either side of a broad .aisle, and the conditions for light and ventilation are of the most favorable kind. Already the cows are out at pasture, and it is a rare sight to see the mild-faced, patient creatures come filing in at eventide in a seemingly'interminable procession, each one knowing her accustomed place, and going voluntarily to it without the slightest disturbance or confusion. On the morning and evening of each day all the young women in Zoar repair, in merry proccssion, to these barns and milk the cowg. As members of Congress sometimes are for a much less useful purpose, thegirlaare "paired," and to each two are assigned eight cows, which they must always milk. Fancy more than thirty buxom young milkmaids, with the good looks which are the offspring of good health, outdoor exercise and good diet, sparkling in their eyes, lip? and cheeks. Each one is tastefully dressed in wellfitting chintz or calico, and wears a white apron, which, like everything else about these most attractive young women, is scrupulously neat and clean. The girls have the privilege of naming the cows assigned to them, and the name of each cow is painted over her stall. These names show that there is a trace of the romantic in the minds of the young women of Zoar, the bovines rejoicing in such fnnciful appellations as Lilly, Maud, Ethel, etc. Another place in which to see the Zoarite young women to advantage is the bakery, where all the bread and pies for the entire community are baited fresh every morning. From seventy-five to a hundred loaves comprise the average daily consumption of tne town. The baking is done by men, but each household sends its young women to the bakery to procure its supply of daily bread and carry it home wrapped in a large, spotless white cloth which each damsel carries with her. Besides these quaint processions of young women to the cow stables and the bakery, there is another similar one to be seen in Zoar on every pleasant day. That is, a procession of girls, ranging from eight to thirteen years, drawing in an old-fashioned baby carriage a younger brother or sister for an airing. As all property in Zoar is held in common, so eVavA AiVtialW on/1 narfioinflfA LMU LUaiitCO ouat u V\|UUUJ.)HUM v?w.wM.w togsther in all their pleasures and duties. 'I hus even the babies of the society are "aired" simultaneously in along drawnout prooession. For the pleasure of the members of the society and their visitors a public garden and a greenhouse are maintained in Zoar. Both are of considerable extent and would be highly creditable to any large city. Remedy for Torpid Liver. One of the best and simplest remedies for torpid liver or biliousness is a glass of hot water with half a lemon squeezed into it, but no sugar, night and morning. A person to whom this was recommended tried it, and found himself better almost immediately. His daily headaches, which medicine had failed to cure, left him, his appetite improved, and he gained several pounds within a few weeks. This is so simple a remedy that any person thus afflicted will do well to give it a trial, as it cannot possibly do any harm.?Family Herald,.^ A Farmer's Ylew of Preaching. Well, wife, town sermons seems to me, Are like the ridin1 plow; They're easy, purty kind o' things, But don't go deep somehow. They take ye over lot3 o' ground, Ah' science styles is sued, Both in the sermon an' the plow, That one don't feel it much. To-day our preacher skinned along, An' 'peared to do a heap, A cuttin' kivrin' of the weeds He oughter plowed in deep; An' when he halted at the end, An' got his team ungeared, The devil laffed to see the tares A growin', I'm afeard. This scientific plowin', bow, An' science preachin', too, Both run too shalier for the work The pint has got to do. I You've got to let the traces out, An' change the clevis pin, Then hist the handles, hold 'em tight, An' let the Dint go in. ?Lu B. Cake, <n Oqiaha World. ' ' S : . About Living Queens. Queen Victoria has now reigned over England longer than any monarh but two?Henry III. and George in. She overtook Queen Elizabeth six years ago, and has outdone Edward III., who only reigned 148 days over half a century. If she lives a few year* longer Victoria will have reigned longer than any other Royal personage of history. Queen Elizabeth of Roumania is intensely musical, fond of dancing and has written a ballet. Queen Olga of Greece is practical, dresses plainly and goes in for domestic economy, etc., even making her own bonnets, it is said. Dagmar of Russia, the Princess of Wales's sister, is said to be politically smart, though not very intellectual otherwise. Like all her sisters, she is very clever with her needle, as they had to make their own clothes before their father got to be King. Old Eugenie, ex-Empress, is said to have developed stiange idiosyncrasies, besides being a recluse. One is a tendency to Spiritualism and a belief that she can communicate with her dead Prince Imperial. It is well understood that she intends to make Princess Beatrice of England her heiress. Queen Natalie of Servia, after being long banished, is going back to her husband, it is said, the trouble being patched up. It was charged that she was trying to crowd her lord and master off the throne. The ex-Queen of Hanover, an almost forgotten personage, is now in her seventieth year, and lives in a secluded, outof-the-way spot, where she spends most of her time quarreling with her son, the Duke of Cumberland. The Queen of Spain, recently, after Li 1 ita i. tile pcnuriuauuu, v^ttiiuu. oaiau jjciuuaiuu into the box and gave her a bouquet tied in ribbon and secured by a splendid sapphire, mounted with diamonds. Marie, the daughter of the Empress of Austria, is about to marry Prince Ruprecht, of Bavaria, who is, according to the loyal Jacobites, the heir apparent to the English throne. Victoria of Germany, it is said, tastes portions of every article of food intended for the Emperor, and superintends the preparation of most of it herself. Queen Marguerite of Italy shows more and more fondness for American literature, and, it is said, gets all the leading magazines published in the United States. The Queen of Sweden since she learned and began cooking by the advice of her physician for her health takes long walks and often goes into the peasants'houses and show3 them how to make good dishes. Uiga, or tireece, is tne most Deauuiui Queen of Europe, and is sister-in-law of the Empress of Russia and the Princess of Wales. The Queen of Denmark is intensely deaf, but fond of music, and has a big and powerful organ that she can hear. Elizabeth of Austria has developed an unfortunate skin disease and wears a veil continually. Isabella, ex-Queen of the Spaniards, when she appears abroad wears a costume very much the same as that of a nun. The Queen of England's grandson, George "Collars and Cuffs," is irreverent. He was danding at a ball recently with a pretty but plebeian partner, when his brother called him to account. "You can go and hum, God save grand mother," was his rotort, "I'll dance with whom I please." The Queen Regent of Spain chooses the word daily for the countersign,without which no one is admitted to the palace by the many guards. This is communicated to the highest military official, who happens to be Marshal Campo, who proclaimed Alfonso King. ?Philadelphia Times. The Japanese Marriage. The Japanese marriage is preceded by the ceremony of betrothal, at which all the members of the two families are present. It often happens that the two parties concerned then for the first time are informed of the intention of their parents with regard to them. From this time the couple are allowed to see cach other on every opportunity. Visits, invitations, presents, preparations for furnishing their future home, and the betrothed are soon satisfied with their approaching future. The wedding generally takes placa when the bridegroom is over twenty years old and the bride in her seventeenth year or over. The morning of the appointed day the groom dresses and the toilet articles ot the bride are carried to the bridegroom's house and arranged in the room appointed for the ceremony. Among the many decorations the small table supports figures representing long life sucTi as the stork and turtle, supposed to live longer than any other creatures. In the evening" a splendid procession enters the hall, headed by the young wife, clothed and veiled in white silk, escorted by two Driaesmaias aau followed by a crowd of relatives and neighbors; also friends in full costume, glittering with brocaded scarlet and erabroidery. The two bridesmaids and two or three young girls who are the friends ot the bride volunteer for the service, wearing the same costume, perform the honors of the house, arrange the guests and flutter from one place to another to see that all are made comfortable. Among the objects displayed in the midJi e *1 i_ *t^_? Uie Ul we u ii;ie ui guests tucic is a uwp saucer of soft ware made for the occasiou. It has a metal vase which is furnished with two spouts and elegantly adorned with artificial flowers. At a given signal one of the bridesmaids fills the vase with "shake," a queer liquid poured into the saucer. The bride drinks onc-hnlf of the liquid and the bridegroom the other half. After this everybody is invited to the dining room, where the "best man" sings the happy song and serves out the great dinner to all. With tho exception of certain Buddhist sects and Christians, a priest or clergyman never takes part in the celebration. The person known as the best man acts as priest and performs the marriage ceremony. The next day after the marriage follows a festival given by the police officer who has given permission for the nuptials. He then places the newly married couple on his list.?Lou isvUle Commercial. A Rare Bird Captured. As Mrs. W. Ballenger was standing in her garden at Millersburg, Ky., recently a large Walloon dropped as if out of the clouds at her feet, and, in her attempt to capture it, she was badly bitten on the face and hands. She threw a shawl over it to protect her hands, and at last took it alive. It measured four feet from tip to tip, and weighed twenty pounds. These birds are very scarce and come in a storm. When their feathers blow off they fall to the ground. They are also vicious and will battle with a man. This bird is tho first thtt has ever been seen in that portion of the country. Flocks of people went to town to see it. It will be killed, stuffed and preserved.?Cincinnati Enquirer. \ TEMPERANCE. Could I Have Borne It? Coold I have borne it? I often think If one of my idols bad bowed to drink, If one of my kings bad laid his crown At the feet of tbe mighty monster down; If one of my darlings bad sold his soul For the pottage mess in a drunkard's bowl? I thank Thee, dear Father, 1 do not know; I thank Thee Thou hast not tried me so. Could I have borne it ? To see the light Of the demon flash from the blue eyes so bright, Telling that reason and will had flown And wine and wildness sat on their throne? While the sweet, pure look had gone from th< face," And base brutality sat in Its place? I thank Thee, dear Father, I do not know, I thank Thee Thou hast not tried me so. Could I have borne it ? and lived long years, With sorrow for meat, and drink of tears, While the heart was dying of-hunger and pain, As it loved and longed and hoped in vain. 01 tbe dead that Jive on this bright, glad day, While the sunshine sweet o'er graves doth riav? I thank Thee, dear Father, I do not know, I thank Thee Tbon hast not tried me so. If the plants I have loved, my own dear boys, I My care and my pride, my dearest ioys, If on them had fallen this dew of death, And they never had wakened at morning's breath, Would the Spring for me have brought ita flowers. Or the roses have bloomed in the summer bowers? I thank Thee, dear Father, I do not know; I thank thee thou hast hot tried me so. How many must bear it? the very air Is full of smoke of dwellings fair, And the sound of sighing on every breeze, While thousands are p anting their willow trees. If the Are that lives in the fruit of the vine Had scorched and blackened this home of mine, How could I have borne I do not know? I thank Thee Thou bast not tried me so. i How many must bear it? the mighty woe That is making graves o'er the hillside grow, That is tying crape folds on cottage door, And stilling the music on palace floor. That is toppling the tallest towers down Where tbe hands the hopes of men doth crown? . If it had come and called for my dead 1 And laid them to sleep in a hopeless bed I 1 01 it is better to praise than pray, To be thankful than weep on this bright, ? glad day. ' Help me to remember those who bear 1 An aching heart under garments fair; Help me to remember the tempted and tried: Ever, good angels, be by their side? Help me to remember those who know, - - j Ana thank Thee Thou hast not tried me so. 1 ?Mara E. Duslin. in EvanaelisL The fttgnt Jf lace ror a saloon. Where is the right place for a saloon) \ Where is the saloon wanted? If not the fash- 1 ionable mercantile establishments, what other ' kinds of business are likely to bis helped by J the proximity of gin-mills? Let some ons 1 same them. Is it the baker, the tailor, the J shoemaker, the butcher, the milliner, the ] bookseller? Do any of these find it any par- 4 ticular advantage to their trade to have a < grog-seller come and open shop beside them? 1 What surroundings are necessary in order to c justify the opening of resorts for loafers, of * drunkard-mills, of dens for the propagation } of vice and crime? What neighborhoods ' shall be selected for the establishment of 1 places for the debauchment and ruin of men, ? for the destruction of families, for the making 1 of paupers and felons? Which is worse, to 1 open a saloon within two> hundred feet of a t church or a school, or to open one next door ^ to a home, in front of a home, i over a home, or under a home? ? What Is there that should make a grog-shop I a stench in the nostrils of the public on one ? a ?mnalltmi* oo*tai? an onnf.hav} 1 PlTCCl ftUU Cfc Dnocv~ouiomuft ou ? u* vtt uuwuv* What should make it an ugly blot on the landscape in one locality and a thing of beauty in another? - Is a saloon on Fifth ave- ' nue calculated to do greater harm than a beer-dive on Mulberry street1 If the wealthy and the powerful cannot endure the presence of the grog shop, will they help to thrust them on the poor and the weak? Are the tenement districts?the houie3 of those who are already deep down in poverty, squalor and misery?are these the proper places to set the saloons? Are they needed here to help men live purer lives, to make happier homes, to strengthen the weak, to cheer the downcast, to guide the erring? Who shall take upon himself the responsibility of declaring where the people shall be cursed with the presence of the gro^-shops and where they shall not be cursed? These, it seems to us, are practical questions, and we should ? like to have them answered.?New York Ob- ? Bsrver. y How Long! 1 Mammon is a god whose devotees hare exi tinguished humanity and abjured all feeling of the brotherhood of mankind, and among his worshipers there are none so cruel as those -who make the rum traffic the highway to his ] shrine. "Am I my brother's keeper?" cries each of these modern fraticides. "It isn't my 1 fault if this man drinks. He is old enough to t take care of himself." The blood of these i poor, weak Abels cries from the grave against ] their murderer. How long will the people' , themselves go about with leaden and unheed- j ing ears? How long will this traffic in rum,' ] accursed of God and man, be allowed to bur- j den the earth with woe? How long will the i rum power, banded together by selfish greed, i be allowed to ruin humanity at will, in order < that their coffers may be filled with ill-gotten 1 gains? When will men, recognizing the 1 enormity of the evil, cease pruning the ] branches and lay the ax of public condemna* i tion at the root of the pestilential upas tree < which fills the land with mourning perpetu- 1 ally? How long will this blood-stainea and < crime-burdened earth groan under the per- ' petuation of the evils that come from the i rum traffic??Toledo Blade. ( 1 . I Temperance Mews and Notes. j A sailors' Rest has been supported during i ??? - ""of *\t t9(?>n hv fchfl W. cue (JUBU J cai, a> a v.. v , _ _ |C. T. U., of Dunedin, New Zealand. , According to the Chicago Inter Ocean the I jcriminal courts daily mere thoroughly | establish the intimacy between liquor and .1 lunacy. The St Petersburg (Russia) Zeitung says: ' "The race which proves unwilling to be fre< ' from alcohol will be mercilessly trodden un* J der foot." -I ' ^An examination of the records of the penl- ] tentiary at Joliet, Illinois, shows that ninetytwo per cent, of the prisoners brought there used intoxicants. Bishop Ireland, the pronounced advocate , of temperance, has recently been elevated to an archbishopric, with jurisdiction over i Minnesota ana Dakota. j Mrs. J. C. Stone, of Ohio, has been deliver- i ing temperance addresses in New York city c and vicinity, under the auspices of the Grand l Lodge of Good Templars. 1 The W. 0. T. Unions of Nashville have ? been carrying on a lunch for ten weeks. J They are working to secure money for the 1 establishment of a Home for temperance } workers. It Is proposed to have a building J containing parlors, reading-room and bed- 4 rooms, and to make the home self-sustaining 1 by giving daily lunches. ? t 1 As Sad As It Is Suggestive. t The following extract from a letter which e a "poor drunkard's wife" sends to the New i York Evening Sun, is as sad as it is suggestive She says: "I cannot see why men with good sense and judgment will approve of a I man selling intoxicating drinks, for it takes the senses and feeling out of a man and . leaves him powerless to the mercy of the 1 police. I have seen policemen on Sunday ( Btanding at a liquor store and letting men, women, and children go in and out with ? Sitchers of beer and never say a word to j lem. I think the Sunday law ought to be enforced,so that the drunkard's wife and chil- I dren may have something to eat on a Mon- j day morning. Look at the handsome liquor stores, with their costly window panes and < mirrors and every inducement to take men ' from their homes, which are decorated only ' with poverty. I hope that those men who are J in favor of Honor traffic will hearken to the. voices of thousands more of poor hea^^| broken drunkard's wives and children. RELIGIOUS READING. "Xoae Will H1m Tkee.'? Few will miss thee, friend, when thoa For a month in dqst hath lain. Skilful band and ansious brow, Tongue of wisdom, busy brain? All thou wert shall be forgot, And thy place shall know thee not Shadows from the bending trees O'er thy lowly head may pass, Sighs fromevery wandering breeze Stir the long, thick, church-yard graa? Wilt thou heed them? No; thv slejp Shall be dreamless, calm and deep. Some sweet bird may sit and rfn* On the marble of thy tamb^ j j* Soon to flit on joyous wing From that place of death and gloom, On some bough to warble dear; But these songs thou shalt not hear. Since so fleeting is thy name, Talent, beauty, power and wit, It were well that without shame Thou in God's great book wert writ, There in golden words to be Graven for eternity. . j ?[Chambers' Journal. A Crarlaelif Aifiatai Dr. Vincent says- that h6 never denounces people for playing at cards, dancing and theatre-going, because they are not absolute, rat relative wrong Bdt De leaves the adoption of these amusements to the judgment of ;he young people in this way: "I draw a picture of Rev. Dr. John HalJ, Biqhop Matthew Simpson and D. L. Moody sitting down together and shuffling cards for an evening, lancing themselves red with half-dressed women, or going to the theatre. They always seem shocked at the mere mention of men conduct bv such Christians. But I ask them if they don't want a* good place in leaven as a bishop shall have, And then I tell them that, if they can approve of these amusements in church - leaders, than of ourse they may ask the leader* to approve the same in them; otherwise, not" It is a x . >ood Txittlne of the issue. "Tbe ?o?t Wondcrfnl Tftiar." Said an Indian chief to his people, on hia eturn from a visit to Washington, when tsked, "Tell us what was tbe most wonderful ;hing you saw," replied, "I saw the Great father," meaning tbe President of the United States, "and that was wonderful," rhen after soup length of silence. the jronze-faoed forestman. with sadness'In Us >ye and pathos in his voice, answered fartbetv 'When I was in tbe great churches and ward the great organ, and all the paleface* V tood up, and said. 'The Lord is in his holy ample. Let .all tbe earth keep silence,' I bought The palefaces have had this religion all these lour hundred years and dfct lotglve it to us; and now it Is latfc' Thai s the most wonderful thing I saw." And lis people said, "That is, indeed, most wonlerrull Now it is late. It is indeed noo*wHow often these last lingering word* leem to possess us like a human inspiration, mpolling us to more consecrated service for be blessed Master in Indian mission work. ' 1 - A B?antifal Incident. The noble missionary Moffat tells a beauts W story. He says: In one of my early ourneys I came, with my companions, to a leathen village on tbe banks of. the Orange iver. We bad traveled far, and wtr6 lungry, thirsty and fatigued; but the people >f the'village rather roughly directed us to lalt at a distance. We asked fear. water but hey ^rould not supply it I offered the three n? four buttons fort on my-jacket fo?a little nilk; but was refused. We hadtbepyospect if another hungry night, at a distance frena rater, though within sight of tbe river. iVhen twilightgrew on, a w oman a pp roached rom the height beyond which the village ay. She bore on her head a bundle of wood, ; md had a vessel' of milk in her .hand. The atter, without opening her lips, she handed As o us, laid down the wood, ana returned to he village. A second time she approached rttn coo Jang veeeei cm ner ueau, ouu a 10* w. nufcton la one band and water in tbeotfiv. She sat down without saying a wonl, pry>ared the fire, and pat on the meat W? ifibed her again and again who tb? ra& She remained silent until we affectionately entreated her to give a reason, or such unlooked-for kindness to strangen; Then the tears stole down her sable cheeks, ind she replied: 'I love Him whose you ire, and surely it is my duty to give you a .up of cold water In His nane. My heart s full, therefore I can't speak the loy I feet it seeing you in this out-of-the-world place.* hi learning a little of her history, ana that he waa a solitary light burning m a dark >lace, I asked her how she kept up the light . if God in her soul in the entire absence of he communion of sainta She drew from ler bosom a copy of the Dutch New Teefcanent, which she had received from Mr. ielm when in his school sane years befora. This,'said she, Is the fountain whence I trink; this the oil that makes my lamp jurn.' I looked on tbeprecious relic priatid by the British and Foreign Bible Society, ind the reader may conceive my joy while ve mingled our prayers and sympathies together at the tnrone of the Heavenly father.? ? Koaewall Jackiea'i Prayer. The following description of the way in -1'-1 " r .T.^Vann led In (V IliUU V7CIIT71 ai kjbvuv ff mu www . _ jrayer is from the pen of the Rev. ? W. Tones of Virginia. He says that he received t from Dr. W. S. White, the pastor of Jack* W " on, in Lexington, Virginia: "Not very long ' iiter his connection with the church, the pastor preached a sermon on prayer, in which it was urged that every male church '/ member ought, when occasion required, to lead in public prayer. The next day a faithful elder of the church asked Major Jackson what he thought of the doctrine of the sermon and if he was not convinced -that he Dught to lead in public prayer. 'I do not think it my duty,' he replied, and went on jo assign as his reason that he hesitated in tiis speech to such an extent when excited ihat he did not think he could 'pray to odifi2ation' in public. 'Have yotl made the metier a subject of secret prayer!' persisted the ilder. 'No, sir; but I will do so tonight.' The elder then advised him also to consult ais pastor,and he went at once to Br. White's rtuay and ' went over with him the arguments and passages of Scriptures by which he supported his position. The next day the elder saw him walking rapidly by his place of business, and fearing that he wished to avoid the subject of their previous conversation he sailed him back ana asked: 'Have yon made . that matter a subject of prayerful investigation, major!' 'Yes. sir, ana I was just on my way to ask Dr. White to call on me to lead in prayer at the meeting tonight' Soon iii*r he wmuu uu, uuu itammering effort that the pastor folt badly 'or him, and he was greatly mortified. Several subsequent efforts produoed little X3tter results, and the pastor began to think hat, perhaps, Major Jackson was right? hat he really could not 'pray to edification* -and that he was, perhaps, an exception to he general rule that male members of the :hurch ought to lead in public prayer. Accordingly he said to him one day: Major, we do not wish to make oar >rayer-meetings uncomfortable to yon. nd if you prefer it, I will not call m you to lead in prayer again.' The >rompt and emphatic reply was: 'My comort has nothing in the world to do with it, ir. You, as my pastor, think that it is my luty to lead in public prayer. I think so, oo, and by God's grace I mean to do it I vish you would please be so good as to call m me more frequently.' Dr. White says hat, seeing fron? Jackson's reply and anner that he meant to succeed, he did all on him more frequently, and that he jradually improved, until he became one of he most gifted men in prayer that he had a his church. It was my privilege to hear /a im pray several times in the army, and it I jfl ver heard a'fervent, effectual prayer,' it ras offered by this stern soldier." Iunzo Kawamoto, of Eob^^^DHBBl one of the students in iepartment of the He has year, and 'ears longer.^^^Hfl|^^H^^9MHH| 0berlin^flnj^^Bfl?^BBHBH^9 ;iass, jfflHBBHHBRn