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** A '*% "WOMAN'S WORLD. i PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR i FEMININE READERS. The Last Thins Out. . The typewriter girl is becoming one bf the institutions of every first-class hotel. In every hotel the placard informs Ihe arrival that he can have his letter prepared ou short notice at a trifling cost. The way in which we are now living at our hotels doesn't leave the guest very much to complain of, provided the cook does his duty. The days when te'egraph instruments were put in the hotels the landlords thought they uau fCUUUCU LUC UlLllUii lliuig VI VU1V1prise. Then came the telephone. Now the gue^t registers and there is little else left for hira to do. He is carried to his4meals by the elevator, and after hi> dinner, while he smokes he takes his chair and dictates a leter to the young typewriter in the corner. ? Chicago ' Times. A Titled L|dy Dentist. The high fashion in Londcu at present is a lady dentist, a German baroness, Nvho is said to be one of the cleverest teeth extractors in England. She is a tall, powerful, aud well-built woman, exceedingly lady-like and agreeable iu manner, but. at the same time, both firm and gentle with her patients. She possesses a wrist of iron, and the clever manner in which she extracts refractory teeth his caused her name to be proclaimed far and wide as an exceptionially successful operator. The baroness's waiting rooms are crowded every day with swells, male and female, and although this lady does not advertise or lay herself out in any way to attract pa- j iients, her practice is one of the largest i in London. Her charge is only half a ; guinea, or $2.50, for extracting teeth, ; and fifteen shilings, or $3.75, with gas. ? Time* Democrat. Energetic California Lasses. About eight or nine months ago, says the Sierra Valley Leider, two young wo- 1 men came up to Johnsville, Lai., irom San Fraacisco with a horse and buck board, cooked and camped out along the 1 road. They opened a restaurant in the 1 above-named place, had plenty of money . and did agooa business. They sold out fchcir restaurant two months a<?o, went 1 but prospecting, discovered a lodge and ' worked upon it as miners with pick and 1 shovel, but how much it paid we do not ! know. They purchased a rifle and went j1 hunting on snow-shoes last winter, would ] tackle bears and kill deers for winter , ' sport. They can run a cross-cut saw, j pick and shovel equal to the most robu3t ^ miner, or skim over or down the moun-,! tainawith the fleetness of the most ex- ; J jpert snow-shoer. We are informed that j' ithey are both graduates of the State ,1 jNormal School, are not handsome, but bright and intelligent looking, and have j? kept their characters above reproach, j1 They have tramped from Johnsville over 1 jthe mountains on snow to Sierra City. ! * Mr. Woodward brought them in there, | ^ .where they remained all night. In the j morning they started from there on foot,' to Truckee, saying they would rather { walk than ride, although the fare is only ; 1 60 cents. .. J ~~ - c ?? Chicago Women's "Pigeon Strut." It is very astonishing that in a city s containing so many attractive women as does this justly celebrated burg, there j should be so few of the dear creatures ' who possess a gait in which there is anything of grace. Strangers and chance ' ' visitors have often remarked in my hear- 1 ing that the walk of the average Chicago 1 woman was little short of monstrous, !1 and when I have taken time to note the ! ( examples they have pointed out, I have * been reluctantly compelled to admit the 1 charge was not without some foundation. * I encounter every day in my rambles women who in every respect but this one might be looked upon as charming; bright, smartly dressed and neat, they * seem to lack the one thing necessary to make the mere regarding of them a * treasure ? namelv. a erraceful carriage. ! ^ Every variety of gait is to be encoun-1 tered, but the most common one seems a r sort of pigeon strut, with the head far j? in advance of the feet aud the centre of | gravity, jerking spasmodically from side ' s to side like a weather cock in a gale of I ^ Wind. An exaggerated toumure?I be- j lieve that m the proper name for it?' lends an additional emphasis to this os-!1 cillatiog movement, ana at times the ef-; c feet wrought surpasses the droll and verges on the ridiculous. Occasionally I r come face to face with a free, high-! * stepping maid or matron, who, with head erect, shoulders squared and grace s ftxlly drooping arms, passes onward with I a generous, yet not too assertive movement, that in a measure compensates one for the wealth of awkwardness pre- ? viously witnessed. If I were permitted % voice in the matter, I should say give , pur women and girls fewer Browning j j clubs and tennis courts and import a round dozen or so of foreign instructors ' in the art of physical deportment. I'll ! wager the end of the first season would 3 ihow a maricea improvement.?unicago Journal. \ Married in Style for Thirty Dollars. While wending his way through that; j greatest of all business thoroughfares, j j the Bowery, the other day, a New York j iSun man's attention was attracted by a ( placard over the door of a dressmaking establishment, which read: : WEDDING ROBES TO HIRE. I Entering the hallway he mounted a ; flight of stairs a^d opened a large door ! npon the glass in which were signs indicating that a modist held forth inside. A pretty little French girl greeted the ; reporter with a bewitching smile, and with just the slightest accent asked his I business Upon being told that the j visitor aesiiei to see the proprietor, she . hastened away and in a few moments a tall, good-looking Frenchman made his appearance. "What-, can T do for Monsieur?" he I asked, smiling and rubbing bis hands. | ' ? "I would like to see some wedding robes," replied the reporter. "Thinking of getting married, eh?" "With an eye to business the dressmaker threw open the doors of several! large wardrobes and the reporter gazed j in silrnt admiration upon a number of j magnificent wedding gowns. "What do you charge for these (dresses?" I "Well, they all bring different prices. This one," and the modist lifted out a beautiful garment of white satin trimmed with lace, "is very beautiful. It cost $200, but all I charge for the use of it is $30. You see, I am content with ismall profits, This dress I have realized j$130 on now, but it will stand six or Beven more ceremonies. Of course I have cheaper gowns, but they arc not much required, because when one gets married one may as well get married in style when it co?ts so little." ( "Who are the people that patronize you?" IfeiVv. ' . . ! I "People whom you would least expect Most of my customers in wedding gowns have been persons who could well have afforded to buy their dresses outright. It is seldom that a lady wears her wedding dress more than once and it is, so far as utility is concerned, a dead loss after the ceremony. I have about thirty dresses out now and business is better than I have ever known it to be." Just then a handsome turnout stopped at the door and a very handsome young woman, accompanied by a more matronly looking person, alighted. They knocked timidly at the glass door, and as the reporter was leaving the enterprising dressmaker was showing them krt fnmn A Tl Crt TTl U pll fit? 4.41^ OUUig Ul U ? ? -? mired aud which seemed to suit their fancy also. Mrs. Gladstone. Xo woman lives a more useful life \ than the wife of England's greatest man. ! Although seventy-six years old, Mrs. Gladstone has still sufficient energy to reject the motto adopted by her when ouly a little girl: "If you want a thing well done do it yourself/'Her father, Sir Richard Glynne, Bart., of Hawarden Castle, was in the habit of : saying that even as a child, this pet daughter evinced a remarkable talent for leadership: and subsequent events have proved that the baronet's impression was correct. While Mrs. Gladstone was in perfect sympathy with her husband and ever ; ready to be of service to him, yet she is i more interested in raising the moral and i social standard of those around her than in anything else. For years she has not only encouraged horticulture and florticulture among the | cottagers in her neighborhood, but has ; ncrsonallv assisted in the selection of I w plants and the laying out of plats. She has an abundance of tact and in j argument she is quite as logical a3 her i husband. During'a prolonged interview ; with a particularly combative and un- j reasoning woman on one occasion her husband is said to have remarked: "Well, now, this is rather unprecedented, you know. My wife usually talks over the most pertinacious of them in less time than this. But she'll beat," tie added, laughingly, "for she never fails." Being quite domestic in her tastes, Mrs. Gladstone 13 highly delighted to 3nd this talent among her friends. In the selection of these this lady is never influenced by ancient birth, wealth or social position. Her two requirements are noral worth and brains. Thus the proudest home in England is always open :o professional people. In 1862, during the cotton famine, Mrs. Gladstone wofked night and day to tlleviate the misery. She established in Orphan's Home at (Jiapnam in iooo. This afterward became a home for incuribles. Mrs. Gladstone's social, educational ind charitable projects have always been ivarmly seconded by her husband, who is nore proud of his wife thau of anything lse in the world, not excepting his own lonorable and brilliant career. The following story will illustrate ;his lovely woman's great heart: ' Oh, if I could only do something for pou,"a poor singer whom Mrs. Gladstone had been able to render a great jervice once exclaimed, _ "That is easy, my dear," the lady retponded. ''Easy for me to be of service to you?" :he lady exclaimed, the grateful tears lowing down her cheeks. "Yes; by doing something for some- ; jody else. A kind word, a bit oF prac- j ;ical advice, a helping hand?even if j here isn't much in it," Mrs. Gladstone eplied with a smile, "will always be j loing something for me. Ana more tnan hat, my child, it. will be doing somehing for yourself and something for 3rod."?Detroit Free Press. Fashion Notes. Fans are made up entirely of plumes o match different toilettes. White cloth jackets braided with meallic cords are in high favor for dressy ; vear. A pretty, graceful little garment is in ' nuslin fichu, and has a frill of lace as an idge. Pretty bonnet pins are in the form of a pray of flowers and leaves, entwined J vith garnets. Beefeater hats may be made from the nany varieties of horse hair braids that I ome for that purpose. The newest India silks have the narowest possible vine of embroidery along heir trimming selvage. A single spray of flowers is seen upon ; ;ome of the newest lace parasols, as if j jlown there by the wind. A novel color combination is reseda vith terra-cotta, and both these colors ire combined with black. r'nlnwal ofro TTT id fpufum nf t.Tlft V-Uiuiga one* TT AW WUV *VWI ??? . leason's millinery, and often crown and >rim show different hues. Boas of lace, whether they are at:ached to the hat or worn about the neck independently, are very stylish. Many new hats have crowns of fancy jtraw in peculiar braid and faced with fancy straw in lattice work patterns. Foot trimmings on skirts are surely being revived, and occasionally a single flounce of considerable depth is seen. Poppy red, ccru, old ro&e, reseda and Gobelin blue are popular colors for the ! foundation of dressy black lace toilets. { Roman moire sashes with lengthwise I stripes appear this season in rich dark combinations, and also in the true Roman ' colors. Lace jabots are again favored as a j trimming for dressy basques, and are ' especially effective with a single revers ; of velvet. French, pinafores cut square at the , neck, without any belt at the waist, made in tine muslin, with lace insertion, are being adopted for little girls. Bodices of soft, white silk, with knots ' and drapingsof velvet and black Spanish I lace, are among the most becoming com- | ponents of a summer wardrobe. Serviceable hats for little girls are made of washing materials in pink, blue or white, with embroidery edging the brim and large rosette3 on tne crown. Pompadour striped sashes are new, and are composed of bands of heavy tinted j satin strewn with small flowers in natural ' colors, alternating with moire stripes. I Red silks, with white tigisrcs or stripes, : trimmed with white lace, and having a soft vest of white silk muslin, are used j for some very elective summer gowns. Bridesmaids wear often the soft China silks, or even surah, in white or pale ! colors, made with long, fully curved dr.peries, simply bordered with inch- 1 wide ribbon, which also edges the hardly- : seen pleating at foot of the skirt. The poppy bonnet has one row, tho , outer one, of velvet petals, and over that j another of silken ones is set lightly atop | the head, finished off with tali clustered I buds and a knot of lace, and warranted ' to make any young woman not a veritable j gorgon look suspiciously fairy-like oece j in life if no more. j # : POPULAR SONGS. CURIOUS ORIGIN OF A NUMBER OF FAMILIAR BALLADS. What Suggested "Put Me in My Little Bert"?History of a College Song?The Peculiar Origin of "Evangeline," Etc. It would seem almost that in later years the success of a son# has been in direct proportion to the frivolity of its subject. The composer, Dexter Smith, is known to have made several attempts before hitting the public taste, although he had written many beautiful \erses. Upon one occasion he took a copy of a very carefully written composition to his publisher, and that gentleman suggested to him that he should publish it in a first-class magazine, admitting frankly that it was too good for him to make available. "What, then, does the public want?" queried the astonished author. "flAmnf^Jnrr lil'A fV*?o " wna ronltr wv1uvu1.u? ^ j and the publisher read to him several extracts from the latest successful ballads. Smith was disgusted and left the office. As, in deep reflection, he strode along the streets of Boston he heard an untidy urchin cry out to his mother: "Say, ma'am, put me in my little bed." There is a subjcct, thought the song writer, and on reaching homo he proceeded to write out what he considered the flattest song of which he was capable. The result of his cifort was gladly accepted by the publisher and, to the poet's surprise, seemed equally to please the public. In short, it was this song which first made the author famous, and the sale of "Put Me in My Little Bed" soon reached an enormous figure. Probably no American song has a more curious history than the favorite college melody, "It Wa3 My Last Cigar." The words were written some forty years ago by a student at Yale College named Condit, and handed to James M. Hubbard?now an important government mail official, but at that time professor of music at Yale?for him to^et to music. This Mr. Hubbard did at a single sitting, and the MS. was sent to New York for publication. A copyright was then secured by filing in the office of the Probate Court in each county. Hubbard took a proof-sheet of the song, and handed it with the fee to a Mr. Cleveland, who was a c'.erk in the office of Probate Judge Blackman, and gave no more thought to the matter for some time. The song spread from college to college, and after a year or two the author found that it was beiugpublisnedall over the country without either credit or pecuniary benefit to himself. On hastening to claim his royalties, Mr. Hubbard was defied and told that Via na anrvtrri<*1?f tttV*i/-?V? nn innaofirrafian UV UW VyV^/J 1 UiilVU^ \JLL 1U * VObl^UblUU, proved to be the fact. The friend to whom the music and fees had been given had fallen dead the day after the trust had been committed to him. Ten years afterwards the identical proof-sheet given to Cleveland was found?still rolled up and covered with dust?thrown up out of sight upon the top of a bookcase in the Probate Clerk's office in New Haven. Over a million copies of the song had been sold by one Boston firm alone, who admitted that they had made the largest profits they had ever made on a single sheet of music; but neither the author of the words nor of the music ever realized a penny from this, the most popular college song ever written. One of the mo3t curiously written of compositions is the celebrated song, "Evangeline," by Will S. Hays, the prolific song writer, author of "Moliie Darling," "Nora O'Neil,'' and Some 200 other melodies. "Evangeline" is without doubt the song on record to be penned upon a plank fence. It was one of Hays's earliest lyrics, and was the result of a frolic, being written when he was quite youDg. The author was one of a party who one evening chanced to attend a social gathering in a small village in Kentucky. Among the ladies present wns one who so strikingly resembled the ideal portrait of Longfellow's "Evangeline" that she was at once given that nickname by the young composer. TV?o nftmnonTT Tiflrl A nil AT* M 14V VVIli|'UUJ UMU * tette and had given a large number of popular selections during the evening. It was a bright, moonlight night when they started to return home, ana "Evangeline" suggested that they try some new song. "I will write you a 6ong," said Hays, "if you will promise to sing it before we go home." This was enthusiastically agreed to. It so happened that there was a new white plank fence just opposite them at that time. A fire had recently been built near by and a number of charred sticks lay scattered around. Picking up several of these Hays walked over to the fence and proceeded to write the first verse of his song on the top plank, and the notes for the quartette of voices on the four planks beneath, As all could read music they stood back a short distance and had no difficulty in singing it. The girls insisted on having a chorus, and the author went to the end of the fence and there wrote out the chorus. The party sung it over, and at last went home with it on their lips. The following day Mr. Hays was requested by "Evangeline" to write out a copy on paper, but he laughingly told her that she could go down to the fence and copy it off. The young lady took him at his word, and though it was raining hard she started out and returned with the words and music complete. To reward her Hays then added another verse, and soon after the lady returned to her home in St. Louis, taking the song with her. On her singing it there it attracted much attention, and she finally sent it back to the author to have it published. The manuscript was sent to nearly every publisher in America; but, like Dexter Smith's song, was probably regarded as too good, and was returned until it was nearly worn out. The only o?er made for it was one of $10, which the writer refused, but indignantly made the publisher a present of the song, saying that it would teach him how little music publishers know of the real value of compositions. The song-writers words indeed proved true, out not to nis own prom, as nc received no remuneration whatever, while the lucky publisher disposed of not less than 1500, UOO copies. It is safe to say that, after this experience, the talented writer was somewhat more business-like in his methods, since he has realized well on his many later compositions. The owner of "Evangeline," however, wa9 never able to obtain another lyric from his pen, though he afterwards offered as high as $300 for a single song.?Detroit Free Press. Silver has turned up in South Africa to a degree to produce a uew mining fever. He who is in love with hiroaelf has uo rival. /. S v.":.i l . -\i> ...... . - . - S WORDS OP WISDOM. I To be angry is to revenge the faults of others upon ourselves. Some natures are so sour and ungrateful that they are never to be obliged. The lasting and crowning privilege, or rather property, of friendship is constancy. I Anxiety is the poison of human life. It is the parent of many sins and of more miseries. Title and ancestry render a good name more illustrious, but an ill one more contemptible. Many a man passes by a little spring of cool, pure water, to drink at last from a hog wallow. One devious step at first stepping out frequently leads a person into a wilderness of doubt and error. To take away rewards and punishments is only pleasing to a man who re- i solves not to live morally. It does not pay to hire help you have | to quarrel with, or to work for a person with whom you desire to quarrel. 1 When men dare not tell the truth of | themselves, how can they be expected to i always tell the truth about others? Thi3 mystery of sleep I This great mystery of waking! If we could fathom them, we should have fathomed our- J selves, and life and death! Thousands whom indolence has sunk in contemptible obscurity might have come forward to the highest distinction, if idleness had not frustrated the effort of all their powers. No better cosmetics than a severe temperance and purity, modesty and humility, a gracious temper and calmness of spirit; no true beauty without the signature of these graces in the very countenance. Courage that grows from constitution very often forsakes a man when he has occasion for it; and when it is only a kind of instinct in the soul, it breaks out on ali occasions, without judgment or discretion. To insure long life recreation should be apart of our daily life. It makes the busy man thoughtful and the thoughtful busy. It insures health, success, and the accomplishment of more work in less time, and better. Clay Tobacco Pipe9. There are few industries the processes of which are more interesting, asserts the New York Sun, than that of the mauufacture of clay tobacco pipes. The mruiptor ropAntlu' wanriprpd?mrtrA Htr chance than interest?into a factory where many bushels of the popular clay pipe are daily made and shipped to all parts of the country. Over 5000 gross, or nearly a million cheap clay pipes, are annually sent out from this factory alone. Said the proprietor of the establish-' ment visited when asked by the writer for some information concerning the mauner in which the pipes were made: "We manufacture more than a dozen different varieties and designs of clay pipes." "The clay used in making the pipes," went on the manufacturer, "is obtained chiefly Irom pits located iu New Jersey, although there is a large bed of clay being worked at Glen Cove, Long Island. The clay costs $3 a ton at the mines, but, with freight charges, etc., it: amounts to $5 a ton before it is landed at the factory. Ae soon as it arrives the clay is spread out and seasoned by being exposed to the heat of the sun, which generally occupies several days. It is then mixed with water and passed through a mill, which crushes it and removes the stones and grit which cling to the crude iclay. It is then kneadea with the hands in the same manner in which bread is kneaded and freed i fro n all foreign substances. ; i "After the clay has been -brought to; 1 the proper consistency it is carried to a J workman called a 'roller,' who sits before a bench, on the top of which lies a smooth, square board. In making a pipe the 'roller' takes in each hind a small lump of the fresh clay and deftly rolls it ] out to the desired length and thickness, > leaving a knob-like lump at the end of j each piece, which later is formed into the bowl of the pipe. 'At this stage of its manufacture the ' half-made pipe is laid upon a measure, which marks the regulation length of the stem, If the latter has been made too long it is then clipped off. "When a' dozen pipes have been thus formed, they are passed to another workman, who sits at a complicated machine, in which the pipes are further manipulated. The 1 man at the muchine first oils the clay, after which he places the rudely shaped | pipes in a mold and inserts an oiled and polished wire through the stems, j making the aperture through which the < smoke is drawn in using. The mold is y 1 - ^ ? ?-i.:~~ 4-v.n I > men pia eug m uic mauumc auu iu? . superfluous clay is forced out. "Ths pipes have now taken on their final shape and are laid in the sun to dry, after which they are polished and put in a large earthen receptacle called a 'sagger,' which is.covercd and arranged with a dozen other saggers in the klin. The door of the klin is then securely fastened and the fire, which is fed with char coal and coke, is started and kept at a white heat for fifteen or twenty hours. The fire ia then allowed to die out slowly, and when quite extinguished the doors are opened, the saggers allowed to cool and their contents examined. The pipes, which before were of a dull blue color and very limp and soft, have become perfectly white and hard. The finished pipes that hnve been examined and found perfect are carefully packed in barrels and boxes, and are then ready for shipment. The Despised Blackberry. The blackberry is held in high esteem for table use and lor preserve.^ but the I people of this section fail to utilize fully ] a bounty which is but half appreciated. North Carolina makes annually more than I -f J.11 4. e . | a million OI uuuurs uct iium iuc uiata- i i berry by sun drying them. They are in ] great request, and markets are already j opened up. It is believed that it would , be necessary in this section to dry them' j by the use of evaporators, yet it would * pay even to go to the expense of buying 1 evaporators, and drying the berries on a J large scale. It would afford remunera- ( tive employmeut to hundreds of women < and children. But there is no immediate 1 prospect of such enterprise, and in the ' meantime hundreds of bushels of berries j dry up on the bushes in this section, or | go to feed the birds and animals which i Feast on them. One of the best uses to ' which the blackberry can be put is the manufacture of cordial, The decoction j has medical properties of the highest order as a corrective and mild astringent, < and every household should be provided with a supply. The recipe, which has been used in this city with the most signal success, is as follows: Boil the berries until thoroughly done and strain them. 1 To two quarts of juicc add one pound of J light brown sugar, and put in one tablespoonful each of cinnamon, spice and cloves. Boil this until it begins to ; thicken, and strain, or leave spices if wished.? Albany (Ga.) News. REV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: "None Like Jesus." Text: "Unto you therefore which believe He is preciousL Peter ii, 7. We had for many years in this country commercial depression. What was the matter with the stores? With the harvests? With the people? Lack of faith. Money enough, goods enough, skillful brains enough, industrious hands enough, but no faith. Now, what damages the commercial world damages the spiritual. Our In/Or in fTl.-i. Ki^ctu laca. is iuitu. lUUli lb LllW UU which eternity turns. "O,*' says some one in the audience, "I have faith. I believe Christ came down to save the world." I reply that in worldly matters when you have faith you always act upon it For instance, if I could show you a business operation by which you could make $5000 you would immediately go into it. You would prove your faith in what I tell you by your prompt and immediate action. Now, if what you call faith in Christ has led you to surrender your entire nature to Jesus, and to corresponding action in your life, it is genuine faith, and if it has not, it is not faith at all There are some things which I believe with the head. Then there are other things which I believe with the heart. And then there are other things which I believe both with the head and heart. I believe, for instance, that Cromwell lived. That is a matter of the head. Then there are other things which 1 believe with the heart and not with the head. That is, I have no especial reason for believing them, and yet I want to believe them, and the wish is the father to the expectation. But there is a very great difference between that which we believe about ourselves and that which we believe about others. For instance, you remember not a great while ago there was a disaster in Pennsylvania; amid the mines; there was in explosion amid the damps, and many lives were lost In the morning you picked up pour newspaper and saw that there had been i great disaster in Pennsylvania. You said: "Ah, what a sad thing is this; how many lives l03tl 0, what sorrow!" Then you read i little further on. There had been an almost miraculous effort to get these men out, and a few had been saved. "Oh," you said, "what i brave thing, what a grand thing that waa! How well it was done!'' Then you folded the paper up and sat down to your morning repast. Your appetite had not been interfered with, and during that day, perhaps, you thought only two or three times of the disister. But suppose you and I had been in the nine, and the dying bad been all around us, rod we had heard the pickaxes just above us u they were trying to work their way down, tnd after a while we saw the light, and then ;he life bucket let down through the shaft, ind, suffocated and half dead, wo had just itrength enough to throw ourselves over into it, and bad beeu hauled ont into the light rhen what an appreciation we would have lad of the agony and the darkness beneath, rod the joy of deliverance. That io the difference between believing a thing about )thers and believing it about ourselves. We take up the bible aud read that Christ "ame to save the world. "That was beautiful," you say, "a fine specimen of self-denial, rhat was very grand, indeed." Bat suppose tis found that we ourselves were down in he mine of sin and in the darkness, and Christ stretched down his arm of mercy ihrough the gloom and lifted us out of the Dit, and set our feet on the Ro? of Ages, ind put a new song into our mouth. Oh, ;hen it is a matter of handclapring; it is a natter of deep emotions. Which kind of !aith have you, my brother? It is faith that makes a Christian, and it i3 :he proportion of faith that makes thedifferjnce between Christiana What was it that ifted Paul and Luther and Payson and Doddridge above tne ordinary level or unria;ian character? It wa3 the simplicity, the arilliancy, the power and the splendor of ;heir faith. On, that we had more of it! jod give us more faith to preach and more faith to hear. Lord! we believe, help Thou jur unbelief!" "To you which beLeve He is precious." First: I remark Christ is precious to the oeliever, as a Saviour from sin. A man says: uTo whom are you talking? I am one of the most respectable men in this neighborhood; Jo you call me a sinner?" Yes! "The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." You say: "How do you know anything about my heart?" I know that about it, for God announces it in His word; and what God says is always right When a man bccomes a Christian people say: "That man sets himself above us." Oh, no! Instead Df setting himself up he throws himself lown. He cries out: "I was lost once, but now I am found. I was blind once, but now I see. I prostrate myself at the foot of the cross of tne Saviour's mercy." What a grand thing it is to feel that all the bad words I have ever uttered, and all the bad deeds I have ever done, and all the bad thoughts that have gone through my mind, are as though they never had been.for the sake of what Christ has done. You know there is a difference m stains. Some can be washed out by water, but others re?:?HAr?ni<ofinn T'ha cin of thfi quire a uuewiuui pcpaiomvu. heart is so black and indelible a mark that no human application can cleanse it, while the blood of Jesus Christ can wash it out forever. 0, the infinite, the omnipotent chemistry of the Gospell Some man says: "I be* lieve all that. I believe God has forgiven the most of my sins, but there is one sin I cannot"1 forget" What is it ? I do not want to kno w11 what it is, but I take the responsibility of saying that God will forgive it as willingly as any other sin. O'er sins like mountains for tbelr size, Tee seas of sovereign grace expand, The seas of sovereign grace ariseThere was a very good man about seventy Ive years of age, that onve said: "I believe jrod has forgiven me, but there was one sin vhich I committed when I was about twenty rears of age that I never forgave myself for, ind I can't feel happy when I think of it." 3e said that one sin sometimes come over his leart, and blotted out all his hope of heaven. tVhy, he lacked in faith. The grace that can 'orgive a small sin can forgive a large sin. Mighty to save. Mighty to save. Who is ihe God like unto our God, that pardoneth niquitv? 0, what Jesus is to the soul that jelieves in himl The soul looks up into Christ's face and says: "To what extent wilt thou forgive me if" And Jesus looks back nto his face and says: "To the uttermost." rhe soul says: "Will it never be brought up igain?" "Never," says Christ. ''Won't it ye brought up again in the Judgment Day?" 'No," says Christ, "never in the Judgment Day." What bread is to the hungry, what larbor is to be bestormed, what Tight is to ;he blind, what liberty is to the captive, ;hat, and more than that, is Christ to the nan who trusts him. Just try to get Christ away from that Christian. Put on that man the thumb icrew. Twist it until the bones < rack. Put ? -* i ,,?H1 /IIlit LWl IlllfU l>iiu II UU UUUK UJL 9CV/UU1UU until t is mashed to a pulp. Stretch that man on /he rack of the Inquisition, and louder than ill the uproar of the persecutors, you will lear his voice like the voice of Alexander Le 2roix. above the crackling fagots a3 he cried >ut: "O Jesus! O; my olessed Jesusl O, livina Jesus! who would not die for thee?" Again: I remark that Christ is precious to he believer, as a friend. You have commer:ial friends and vou have family friends. To ;he commercial friend you go when you have business troubles. You can look back to lome day?it may have been ten or twenty rears ago?when, if you had not had that .'riend, you would have been entirely overihrown in businesa But I want to tell you ;his morning of Jesus, the best business friend a man ever had. He can pull you 5Ut of the worst perplexities. There are people in this audience who have got in the habit of putting down all their worldly troubles at the feet of Jesus. Why, Christ meets the business mnn on the street ind says: "0, business man, I know all thy ' troubles. I will be with thee. I will see thee through." Look out how you try to corner >r trample on a man who is backed up by the Lord Cod Almighty. Look out how you trample on him. O, there is a financier that :nany of our business men have not found 3Ut. Christ owns all the boards of trade, all the insurance companies and all the banking houses. They say that the Vanderbilts own the railroads; but Christ owns the Vander' * " J -II 4-U~ Diits ana tuu ranmaas, ana an mo piui/tmgo of stock gamblers shall bo put to confusiou, and God with His little finger shall wipe out their infamous projects. How oft n it has been that we have seen men gather up riches by fraud, in a pyramid of strength and beauty, and tho Lord came and blew on it and it whs gone: while there are those here to day who,if they could s;>eak out in this assemblage, or dared to speak out. would say: "The best friend I had in 1837; the best friend Iliad in 1857; the best friend I had at the opening of the war; the best friend I ever had has been the Lord Jesus Christ. I would rather give up all other friends than this one"' ? . * But we have also family friends. They come in when we have sickness in the household. Perhaps they say nothing, but they sit down and they weep as the light goes out from the bright eyes and the white petals of the lily are scattered in the blast of death. They watch through the long night by the dying couch, and then, when the spirit has gone, sooth you with great comfort. They say: "Don't cry. Jesus pities you. All is welL You will meet the lost one again." Then, when your sou went off, breaking your heart, did they not come and put the story in the very best shape and prophecy the return of the prodigal? Were they not in your house when the birth angel flapped its wings over your dwelling? And they have been there at the baptisms and at the weddings. Family friends! But I have to tell you that Christ is the best family friend. Oh, blessed is that cradle over which Jesus bands. Blessed is that nursery where Jesus walks. Blessed is that sick brow from which Jesus wipes the dampness. Blessed is that table where Jesus breaks the bread. Blessed is that grave where Jesus stands with His scarred feet on the upturned sod, saying: "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." Have you a babe in the house! Put it into the arms of the great Child i Lover. Is there a sick one in the house! Think of Him who said: ' Damsel, arise." Areyou afraid you will come to want? Think of Him who fed the five thousand. Is there a little one in your house that you are afraid will be blind or deaf or lame? Think of Him who touched the blinded eye and snatched back the boy from epileptic convulsion. Oh, He is the best friend. Look over your family friends to-day and find another that can be compared to Him. When we want our friends they are sometimes out or town Uhrlst is always in town. We find that some will stick to us in prosperity who will not in adversity. But Christ comes through darkest nignt and amid ghastly sorrow, and across roughest sea, to comfort you. There are men and women here who would have been dead twenty years ago but for Jesus. They have gone through trial enough to exhaust ten times their physical strength. Their property went, their health went, their families were scattered. God only knows what thev suffered. Thev are an amazement to themselves that they have been able to stand it. They look at their onco happy home, i surrounded by all comfort Gone! They think of the time when thev use to rise ] strong in the morning and walk vigorously ; down the street, and had experienced a i health they thought inexhaustible. Gone I Everything gone but Jesus. He has pitied them. HLs eye has watched them. His om- ! nipotence has defended them. Yes, He has 1 been with them. They have jrone through ; disaster,and He was a pillar of fire by night. | They have gone across stormy Galilee, but Christ had His foot on the neck of the storm. They felt the waves of trouble coming up around them gradually, and they began to climb into the strong rock of God's defense, and then they sang, as they looked over the waters: 4,God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help In time of trouble; therefore we will not fear though tbe earth be removed, though the monntnfna be carried into the midst of the sea, though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah." The other day there was a sailor who came into the Bethel in New York, and said: "My lads (he was standing among sauors), i done Know wnats ine , matter with me. I used to hear a good deal about religion and about Jesus Christ I don't know that I bave any religion, or that I know anything much about Christ; but when I was in mid-Atlantic I looked up one day through the rigging, and there seemed to come light through my soul. I hare felt different ever since, and I love those 1 once bated, and I feel a joy I can't tell you. I really don't know what is the matter of me." A rough sailor got up and said: "My lad, I know what's the matter of you. Ton have found Jesus. It is enough to make any man happy." His worth If all the n&Uons knew Sure the whole earth would love him too. I remark again: Christ is precious to the believer, as a final deliverer. You and 1 must after awhile get out of this world. Here and there, one perhaps may come on to eighty, to ninety years of age, but your common sense tells you that the next twenty-five years will land the majority of this audience in eternity. The next ten years will thin out a great many of these family circles. This day may do the work for some of U3. Now, why do I say this? To scare you? No; but just as I would stand in your office, if I were a business man, and talk over risks. Ton do nnfc r.nnsidflr it cowardlv to talk in VOUT store over temporal risks. Is it base In us this morning to talk a little while over the risks of the soul, that are for eternity! In every congregation death has the last year been doing a great deal of work. Where is your father? Where is your mother? Your child? Your brother? Your sister? O, how cruel does death seem to be! Will he pluck avery flower? Will he prison every fountain! Will He put black on every door knob? Will He snap every heart string? Can I keep nothing? Are there no charmed weapons with which to go out and contend against Him? Give me some keen sword, sharpened in Gods armory, with which I may stab him through. Give me some battle ax that I may clutcn it, and hew him from helmet to sandal. Thank God, thank God, that be that rideth on the pale horse hath more than a match In Him who rideth on the white horse. St. John heard the contest, the pawing of the steeds, the rush, the battle cry, the onset, until the pale horse came down on his haunches, ana his rider bit the dust, while Christ the conqueror, with uplifted voice, declared it: "Oh > death, X win oe my piague; \j grave, ? ww > be thy destruction." The sepulcher is a lighted castle on the shore of heavenly seas, and sentinel angels walk up and down at the door to guard it. The dust and the dampness of the grave are only the spray of the white surf of celestial seas, and the long breathing of the dying Christian, that you call his gasping, is only the long inhalation of the air of heaven. Oh, bless God for what Christ is to the Christian soul, here and hereafter! I heard a man say some time ago that they never laugh in heaven. I do notToiow where he got his authority for that. I think they do laugh in heaven. When victors come home, do we not laugh? When fortunes are won in a day, do we not laugh? After we have been ten or fifteen years away from our friends and we greet them again, do we not laugh? Yes, we will laugh in heaven. Not hollow laughter, not meaningless io tighter hut a full, round, clear,' deep, resonant outbreak of eternal gladness. Oh, the glee of that moment when we first see Jesus? I think we will take the first two or three years in heaven to look al Jesus: and if, in ten thousand years, there i hould .be a moment when the doxology paused, ten thousand souls would cry out: "Sing! sing!" and when'the cry was: "Wiat shall we sing?" the answer would be: "Jesus! Jesu3!" Oh, you may have all the crowns in heavon; I do not care so much about them. You may have all the robes in heaven; I do not care so much about them. You may have all the sceptres in heaven; I do not care so much about them. You may have all the thrones in heaven; I do not care so much about them. But give me Jesus?that is enough heaven for me. 0 Jesus! I long to see Thee. Thou "Chief among ten thousand, the One altogether lovely." There may be some here who have come hardly knowing why they come. Perhaps it was a3 in Paul's time?you have come to hear what this babbler sayeth; but I am glad to meet you face to face, and to strike hands with you in one earnest talk about your deathless spirit Do you know, my friend, that this world is not good enough for you! It cheats. It fades. It dies. You are immortal. I see it in the deathless spirit looking out from Ti. .*? ? ervtVif If. 1C on your eye. jlu is a an^uvj opuv. *w +>-> immortal spirit It boats against the window of the cage. I come out to feed it. During the past week the world has been trying to feed it with husks. I come out this moruing to feed it with that bread of which if a man eat he will never hunger. What has the world done for you? Has it not bruised you? Hos it not betrayed you? Has it not maltreated you? Look me in the eye, immortal man, arid tell me if that is not so. And yet, will you trust it? 0, I wish that you could forget me, the weak and sinful man?that I might vanish from your sight this morning, and that Jesus might come in. Aye, he comes here this morning to plead for your soul?comes in all covered with the wounds of Calvary. He says: "O, immortal man! I died for thee. I pit}' thee. I come to save thee. With these hands, torn and crushed 1 will lift thee up into pleasures that never die." Who will reject?who will drive him back? When Christ was slain on the cross, they had a cross, and they had nails, and they had hammers. You crucify by your sin, O impenitent soul, the Lord Jesus Christ Here is a cross; but where are the nailsWhere are the hammers? "Ah," says some one rejecting Christ, some one standing a long way off, "I will furnish the nails. I don't believe in that Jesus. I will furnish the nails." Now we have the nails; who will furnish the hammers? "Ah," says some hard heart, "I will furnish the hammers." Now I ... -n^r " ,'f.. ''\k we have the nails and the hammers. We have no spears; who will furnish the spears? "Ah," says some one long in the habit of sin and rejection of Christ's mercy: "I will furnish them." Now we have all the instruments; the cross, the nails, the hammers, the spears, and the crucifixion goes on. O, the darkness! 0, the pang! O, the tears! O, the death! ''Behold the Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world.n Lord Jeeus, help that man. He sits far back to-day. He does not like to come forward. He feels strange in a religious assemblage. He thinks, perhaps, we do no want him. 0, Jesus, take that trembling hand. Put thine ear to that agitated heart mid hear how it beats. O, lift the iron gate of that v prison house and let that man go free. Lord Jesus, help that woman. She is a wanderer. No tears can she weep. See, Lord Jesus, that polluted soul; see tnat blistered foot. No church for her. No good cheer for her. No hope for her. Lord Jesus, K to that soul. Thou wilt not stone her. t the red hot chain, that burns to the bono till the bloody ichor hisses in the heat, snap at thy touch. O, have mercy on Mary Magdalene. Lord Jesus, help that young man. He took money out of his employer's till. Didst Thou Bee it? The clerks were all gone. The lightB were down. The shutters were up. Didst Thou see it? 0, let him not fall into the pit. Rememberest Thou not his mother's prayers? She can pray for him no more. Lord Jesus, touch him on the shoulder. Touch him on the heart Lord, save that young man. There are many young men here. I got a letter from one of them, who is probably here to-day,and I shall have no other opportunity of answering that letter. Ton say you believe in me. O, do you believe in - , Tflotio) T /innw Af satVA Tf/Mi M*r dAait K?l/\f.tiaP J uo J ivauuuuoaro ;uu, uij uoai vi vvuvt* Christ can. He wants and waits to save too. and He comes to-day to save you. Will 70a have Him? I do not know what >ur young men do without Christ?how they get on amid all the temptations and trials to which they are subjected. 0, young men,come to Christ to-day, and put your soul and you r interest for this life and for the next into his keeping. In olden timee, you know, a cup bearer, would bring wine or. water to the king, who would drink it, first tasting it himself, to show that there was no poison in it. then passing it to the ldng, who would drink it. The highest honor that I ask is that I may be cup bearer to-day to your soul I bring you this water of everlasting life. I have been drinking of it. It has never done me any harm. O, drink it and live forever. And let that aged man put his head down on the staff, and let that poor widowed soul bury her worried face in her handkerchief, and these little children fold * their hands in prayer, while we commend you to Him who was wounded'for our transgression and bruised for ,our iniquities; for to you which believe He is precious. TFMPIfT? AWf!P. 1 JL UJJli. .UXV1X11 VJUM Bane and Boon. And may a bane become a boon) Are cursed born to bless? Can midnight shine with rays of moon? Will vice win virtue's drees? That doctrine was in Eden taught, And lo. earth has the fruit;? Bad boast that blessing would be wrought? Figs reaped from thistle root! The laws of God are not repealed, However men may dare; Wheat still unfolds to wheaten yield, Tare yet produces tare. Whatever poisons human veins, Corrupts the human race; And drunkenness Inflicts its stains, That time may not efface. If States approve and license give, The crime is but the worse; The righteous host of Heaven will live ' And curse will follow curse. Ah! men are 'wildered by their taste And by their lust for gain; Their vices only work their waste And sting at last with pain. ?Rev. F. DenUon, "tsoy uiiiy mm luc uccr"Boy Billy" was the adopted son of Christ tian Zende, an honest German, who was much shocked one day at seeing the boy in lager-beer saloon, tossing off a foaming glajff of Deer. He bade the boy go home, but saia: nothing till evening. After tea, Zende sektpd himself at the table, and placed before him a; variety of things. Billy looked on with' curiosity. "Come here, Billy," said Christian Zende. "Why were you in the beer-shop to-dayf Why do you drink beer, my boy?" "0?0?because it's good," said Billy,: boldly. 1 "No, Billy, it is not good to the mouth. I did never see so big faces as you did make. Billy, you think it will taste good byand-by,] and it looks like a man to drink, and so you drink. Now, Billy, if it is good have it I will not hinder you from what is good and manly, but drink it at home, take yonr drink pure, Billy, and let me pay for it. Come.*myboy! You like beer. Well, open yourf' mouth. I have all the beer stuff, pure from the shop. Come, open your mouth, and I will put it in." 1 ' Billy drew near, but kept his mouth close shut.. Said Zende, "Don't make me mad, Billy. Open your mouth." Thus exnorted, Billy opened his mouth, and 17 ?* ? Wf nf olnm in it BillT ZJCUUO put a onmu wiv v? %M%MM , drew up his face. A bit of aloes followed. This was worse. Billy winced. The last mor3el of red pepper, now, from a knifepoint. made Billy howL "What, not like beer?" said Zende. "Opea your mouth." A knife dipped in oil of turpentine made Billy cry. "Open your mouth, the beer is not half made yet." And Billy's tongue got the least dusting of lime and potash'ana saleratus. Billy now cried loudly. Then came a grain of licorice, hop pollen and saltpetre. "Look, Billyl Here is some arsenic, and , some strychnine which is used, to kill ratal* "1 shall die! O?O?O?do you want to kill me, Father Zende!" . "Kill him! just by a little beer, all good and pure! He tells me he likes beer, and it is * ' 1 ?? T cnma manly to arm* is, anu wucm^nguiu. he cries I kill him. Here is water. Therb is much water in beer." Billy drank the water eagerly. Zende went on. ' There is much alcohol in beer. Here! open your mouth," and he dropped four drop3 of raw spirit carefully1 on his tongue. Billy went dancing about tne room and then ran for more water. "Come here, the beer is not done, Billy;* and seizing him, he put the cork of an am? monia bottle to his lips, then a drop of honey, a taste of sugar, a drop of molasses, a drop of gall. ''There, Billy! nere is jalap, copperas, sulphuric acid and nux vomica. Open your mouth." "Oh, no, no," said Billy. "Let me go. I hate beer. I'll never drink any more! Til never go in that shop again. Oh, let me gof 1 can't eat those things. My mouth tastes awful now. Oh, take them away, Father Zende!" "Take them away! Take away good beer when I have paid for it. My, boy, you drank them fast to-day." "Oh, they make me sick. Said Billy. "A man drinks all these bad things mixed up in water. He gets red in the face; he gets big in the body; he gets shaky in his hands; he gets weak in his eyes; he gets mean in his manners." Billy was satisfied on the l>eer question.? Little Star from the German. Temperance News and Notes. The next annual convention of the Jtfa| w r. T. U. will be held in New York. bivuui ? -- - White Ribbon Cottage is the headquarters of New Jersey W. C. T. U. at Ocean Grove. Mr. Robert T. Booth, the celebrated tempc-raace lec'.urer, has returned to Australia. Eighty-nine Catholic priests of Chicago signed the petition asking that the saloons of that city be clos;d on Sunday. Miss C. S. Burnett, formerly of Ohio, but morj recently of Utah, has gona to California for a year's work in the temperance field. Of the 2100 inmates of the New York Christian Home for Intemperate Men during the past ten years, only five have died. The IV. C. T. U. of Victoria, Australia, is making an effort to secure the usa of un? fermented wine for sacramental purposes in the churches of that country. Lucy Davis, of Memphis, Tenn., the youngest daughter of Mrs. Meri weather, President of tbe \V. C. T. U. of that State, has been, since January 1st, resident physician at the New York Jftfant Asylum, of which she was second assistant during her junior year in college. She is said to be ^ most remarkablo young woman, and jier future holds a world of promise as she is not vet twenty-five years old. j