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The Abbeville Press andBamS BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1888. VOLUME XXXIII. NO. 18.||f|| After the Battle. It was after the iliti of Mm buttle Had ceased in the silence and gloom. When hushed was the musketry's rattle, And quiet the wuinnn'o deep boom. The smoke of the conlliet had lifted. And drifted away from the sun, While the soft crimson light, slowly lading from eight. Flashed back from each motionless gun. The tremulous notes of a bugle Kang out on the clear autumn air. And echoes caught back from the mountaius Faint whispers, like breathings of prayer, The arrows of sunlight that slantwd Through the trees touched a brow white as snow, On the bloody sob lying'mid the dead and the dying. And it flushed in the last parting glow The dark, crimson tide slowly ebbing, Stained red the light Jacket of gray; But another in blue, sadly knelt by his side And watched the life passincr away. Said the jacket in gray : "I've a brotherJoe Turner, he lives up in Maine, Give him these, and say my last message Was forgiveness." Here a low moan of pain Checked his voice. Then: "You'll do me this favor. For you shot meand his whispers sank low. Bald the jaoket in blue, "Brother Charley. There's no need, I'm your brother, I'm Joe.' Laws of Healtb. A knowledge of the laws of heath, ancl their practice, cannot be learned ail at once, but only progressively?the same as we learn a trade, an art, or a science?by observation, study, and experience. The human constitution has its laws of order, as definite and certain as those of astronomy ; yet, they are even more difficult to learn; for the human constitution is the most complex and perfect of all created existence. Hence, what we can here say is only suggestive-and fragmentary. Cheerei'lxkss?and good will are of the first importance to human health. Therefore take the generous side. Study benevolence and the welfare of others for earth's sake as well as for heaven. He whose tendencies are all centrifugal or outward can hardly be sick. Sunlight?is as essential to animal as vegetable life. A celebrated physician says, the number of patients cured in hospital rooms exposed to the rays of the sun, were four times sis great as those confined in darkened rooms. Fresh Air. The air is the only agent which keeps the blood pure and enables it to circulate and impart life power to me system, it no less sustains life, by imparting this wonderful property to the blood, than by expelling the impurities or worn-out matter which the veins have collected and brought to the lungs for expulsion, and which if left in the system but a few moments, would cause death. . .Exercise?is best if taken in some employment for an object. Begin and end slowly. It is well to carry out our exercise to the point of fatigue if the systemsoon rallies from it; but for , health no greater fatigue should be incurred than a night's rest will remove. To sleep well and gain strength, the body must be fatigued. Food. A free use of palatable fruit is essential. We must learn to distinguish between a real appetite and a i mere superficial taste. The taste of sugar, for instance, may be agreeable when there is no real need or appetite for it. Take few varieties of food at one meal. It is well now and then to omit by turns the use of every article of food?even bread, thus preventing the system from becoming tied to aoy injurious routine. It would not be amiss i to make an occasional meal of some palatable fruit or vegetable, in its season, when best relished. Water. An abundant supply and free use of pure, soft water is essential to health. Water is the only fluid capable of circulating in all the tissues of the body, and penetrating its finest vessels without irritation or injury. No other liquid than water can dissolve the various articles of food taken into the stomach. It is water alone which forms all the fluid portions of the blood, and thus serves to convey the nutriment to all parts of the body for its growth and replenishment. And it is water which takes up the decaying particles, and conveys them, by a most complicated and wonderful system of drainage, altogether from the body. When good soft water cank/\ niriA/1 o uino 11 JL1UL UIUU1 nicc wv VUIUIUCVI, u ouuMii vuvlay for cistern and filter will secure an abundant supply of rain water, equal to any. Bathing. Much cold bathing exhausts vitality. Much warm bathing produces undue relaxation and sensitiveness. Hence, to secure the best results, avoid these extremes. The temperature of the water and surrounding air should be such as to allow a bath to be taken deliberately. VVi th these conditions, and n moderately coarse towel, a yard in length, to apply the water, a very thorough bath may be taken. The towel bath aflbrds excellent exercise for those engaged in sedentary employments. Opeu-Air >raps. A youiig mouier was reprovcu uui long ago fur putting her children to sleep in the open air when they took their day-time naps. The little twoyear-old was laid in a sailor's hammock swung ou the piazza or under the trees, and the month-old baby was rolled in ' her carriage into the shade and there left to sleep. Both children were amply protected by nettings from disturbance from in.sects, and their eyes were shielded from excess of light. The reprover was evidently not up with the times. When her babies were put to sleep, fifty or sixty years ago, they were taken into a room where shutters were closed and every" thing was close and still and dark. Of course, she thought that was the right way, and she thinks so still; but she j was and is mistaken. Open-air naps are right?that is, in healthful Ioeali- j ties. The nearer we get to nature the | more robust and normal we are. It agrees with most people to sleep on the ground, if it is dry, on a bed soft enough for comfort. Tent-life agrees j with most people. It is good for chil- j dren to play on the ground, in the open-air, to go barefoot part of the , time, to make dirt pies, to wade in the . brook, to wander in the woods, to get 1 -"-1 J l,.,nn.,r All uniw 11 anu uieu aiiu uuugij. mi this is wholesome during warm weather. Children who are thus habituated to open-air life lay up a fund of health to draw from when the winter days come that rightly confine them much of their time in-doors. Even in winter many, perhaps most, children could be out-of-doors far more than they are with decided advantage. Shut up in steam-beated or furnace-heated or stove-heated rooms, they imbibe seeds of disease that ripen and produce "delicacy," disease, and death. J The greatest kindness that can be shown to children in the country in summer time is to dress them in such a manner that they can enjoy unlimited fun in the open air, climbing trees, berrying, having picnics, and living as far as possible from under a roof and outside the four walls of a house. T.<*nrninjr tn Hnwl. It is an old Spanish proverb, we believe. "He who lives with wolves will ? soon learn to howl." He who lives with the faults of his friends, and counts tliem over and sorts them and weighs them and measures them, wilJ 1 soon have equality grave ones of his 11 own, which his friends will be sure to * see, and which will make him posi- . tively unable to cure them. There is | nothing that so deteriorates character as this undue looking after faults and ^ blemishes in others while we are blind ^ to our own. We may abhor meanness a and stinginess in our neighbor, and be v able to give a hundred reasons why * he should give away more in charity, 6 and see a thousands little things iudi- ^ eating his smallness of soul, and at c the same time we may be so engrossed with one phase of meanness in our- r selves. We may abhor untruth so 1 vehemently in some one else that we ^ shall forget to hate impurity in our- r qftk-PK. W? mav disnise our neighbor ^ for his sharpness aud trickery, and F spread over our own slackness aud c idleness aud shiftlessuess the coverlet f of, "Thank God, I'm not a sharper!" 1 The idle, thriftless man can never re- ; form the over-shrewd speculator; the 11 impure man can never lift the untruthful man out of the bog ; the gossip is not fit to cure the miser of his relfishness. There is only one way, after all, to reform the world. Not by 11 learning to howl at its faults, or to a bark at its mistakes, but first to begin a the work of reformation with our- jeelVes. We come back inevitably to 1 the old truth so often before stated : c 'In order to make the best of others, F we must first make the best of our- r selves."?Qoldcn Rule. * Cinders in the Eye. o Nine persons out of every ten with j a cinder or any other loreign sub- j stance in the eye will iustantly begin g to rub the eye with one hand while v hunting for their handkerchief with j] the other. They may, and sometimee f, do, remove the offending cinder, but i. more frequently tliey rub till the ^ eye becomes inflamed, bind a liandker- \\ chief around the head, and go to bed. [\ This is all wrong. The better way is v not to rub the eye with the cinder in n it all, but rub the other eye as vigor- e onsly as you like. A few years since I was riding on an engine of the fast a express from Iiiughampton to Corn- v ing. The engineer, an old school- t mate of mine, threw open the front ii window, and I caught a cinder that g gave me excruciating pain. I began y to rub the eye with both hands. "Let t< your eye alone, and rub the other eye" b (thisfrom the engineer.) I thought u be was chairing me, and worked the u harder. "I know you doctors think c you know it all; but if you will let r that eye alone and rub the other ij one the cinder will be out f; two miutes," persisted the engineer, t I began to rub the other eye, and soon a I felt the cinder down near the inner 0 canthus, and made ready to take it i out. "Let it aloue and keep at the a well eye," shouted the doctor pro teiu. (] I did so for a minute longer, and look- u ing in a small glass he gave me found the otfeudiug cinder on my cheek. Siuce then I have tried it many times, and have advised many others and have never known it to fail in one iustance (unless it was, as sharp as a o piece of steel, or something that cuts t into the ball and required an opera- t tion to remove it.) Why it is so I do t not know, and that oue may be saved t much suffering if one will let the in- a jured eye alone and rub the well eye. t Try it. a s The happiness of your life depends upon the uuallity of your thoughts; therefore, guard accordingly, and take t cure that you entertain nohtingunsuitable to virtue and unreasonable to na- ^ ture. Ripeness in Character. Rev. Chrles H. Spurgeon beautifully illustrates the marks of ripeness in Christian character somewhat, as follows : One mark in beauty. Ripe fruit has its own perfect beauty. As the fruit ripens, the sun tints it with surpassing loveliness, and the colors] leepen till the beauty of the fruit is jqal to the beauty of the blossom, and 11 some respects superior. There is n ripe Christians the beauty of ealized sanctification, which the Word of God knows by the name of 'beauty of holiness." Auother mark of ripe fruit is tenderless. The youug, green fruit is hard md stone-like; but the ripe fruit is 10ft, yields to the presssure, can alnost be moulded, retains the mark of he finger. So it is with the mature Jhristian ; he is noted for tenderness >f spirit. Another mark of ripeness is sweetless. The unripe fruit is sour, and perhaps it ought to be, or else we ihould eat all the fruits while they are ret green. It may, therefore be in the )rder of grace a fit thing that in the ,'outhful Christian some sharpness ihould be formed which will ultimatey be removed. Ay we grow in grace ve are sure to grow in charity, sympahy, and love ; we shall have greater ind more intense affection for the peron of Him "whom having not seen, ve lpve;" we shall hsve greater deight in the precious things of His ;ospel; the doctrines which perhaps we lid not understand at first will become narrow and fatness to us as we adduce in grace. We shall feel that here is honey dropping from the honycomb in the deep things of our reigion. We shall, as we ripen in grace, lave greater sweetness toward our felow Christians. Bitter-spirited Chrisians may know a great deal, but they re immature. Those who are quick ii mnv ha -\rnr\7 onnto 111 iiiHcy. W V'V'WUl?&V IAJMJ WV T V* J UVUbV iU J WMf, ueut, but they are as yet immature ii heart. I know we who are young eginuers in grace think ourselves [ualitied to reform the whole Chrisian church. We drag her before us ,nd condemn her straightway; but vhen our virtues become more mature trust we shall not be more tolerant of vil, but we shall be more people of Jod, and certainly less arrogant in our riticisms. Another, and a very sure mark of ipeness, is a loose hold of earth, lipe fruit easily parts form the lough. You shake the tree and the Ipe apples fall. If you wish to eat resh fruit, you put out your hand to luck it, and if it comes off with diffulty you feel you had better leave it lone a little longer; but when it drops nto your hand, quite ready to be withdrawn from the branch, you know t to be in good condition. Accuracy. Sir Stafford Northcote, who of all rten was distinguished for accuracy ud precision of statement, in a letter ddressed to a literary society of which le was President spoke of accuracy u a passage which we quote. Bo nauy of us need a reminder on this loint, that we recommend to our girl eaders especially, the consideration of he British stateman's advice : "I need not point out to you that if t be a virtue of so great excellence as suppose it, we are all of us bound in ur daily life to strive to attain it. Lnd first I would ask you, Does not fature herself point out to us how ood a thing it is, by the pleasure rliicn tne consciousness 01 it awanens ti our minds ? However we may proess to undervalue it, yet when we lave executed some work, be it of the land or of the brain, and find that t fits iuall its parts, and that it fits ts place, we feel a certain satisfaction, phich is nothing else than a testiaony borne by our inner selves to the xcellence of accuracy. "On the other hand, consider how n inaccurate person provokes us, how ^e long to correct his mistakes, how iresome we think him when by some correct statement he misleads us and ives us the trouble of following up a rild goose-chase, or of setting to work o rectify the consequences of his lunder. Even in trifling matters we, ipon the whole, prefer the accurate an. The man who can tell his story orrectly with the right names and the ight facts, is a far pleasanter man to isten to than our friend who mixes up acts aud confuses names and forgets be point of half his auecdotcs. True, 11 accurate man may be a bore if he verdoes us with accuracy; but an micturate man may be, an<l often is, t least as great a bore, with the adlitional disadvantage of being less iseful." "I Can't go in With Them." "I have read," said Spurgeon, "of aie who dreamed a dream in great disress of mind about religion. He bought he stood in the outer court of leaven, and he saw a glorious host uarching up, singing sweet hymns iud bearing the banners of victory, hey passed by him through the gate, md he heard in the distance sweet trains of music." "Who are they ?" he asked. "They are the goodly fellowship of he prophets, who have gone to be vith God." "He heaved a deep sigh as he said, 'Alius!'I am not one of them, ami never shall l?e, and r cannot enter there." "By and by there came another band, equally lovely in appearance, and equally triumphant, robed iu white. They passeed within the portals, and again were shouts of welcome heard. "They are the goodly fellowship of the apostles." "Alas!" he said, 'I belong not to that fellowship, and T cannot enter there.' "He still waited and lingered in the hope that he might yet go in ; but the next multitude did not encourage him, for they were the noble army of martyrs. He could not go with them or wave their palm branches. He waited still, and saw that the neyt was acomr>nni7 nf trnnrllv minintprs and offlo.ei'S ? ? ~"%J of Christian churches; but he could not go with them. At Jast, as he walked, he saw a host larger than all the rest put together, marching and singing most melodiously; and in front walked the woman that was a sinner and the thief that died upon the cross. He looked long, and saw there Manasseh and the like; and when they entered, he could see who they were, and he thought. There will be no shouting about. them.' But to his astonishment it seemed as if all heaven was rent with sevenfold shouts as they passed in. And the angels said to him,'These are they that are mighty sinners, saved by mighty grace.' And then he said, 'Blessed be God! I can go in with them. And so he awoke." An Uufortunate Interruption. Willie was asleep and Dan was lone-' ly. Willie is the minister's son, and jjan is his aog. it was ouuuay uauruing, and every one was at church but these two friends. It was warm and sunny, and they could plainly hear the good minister preaching, for their house was next door to the church. "Dan," said Willie, "it is better here than in the church, for you can hear every word, and don't get prickles down your back, as you do when you have to sit up straight." In some way, while Willie was listening and watching the dusty motes es riding on sunbeam*, he fell asleep. Dan kissed him on the nose several times, but when Willie went to sleep he weut to sleep to stay, and didn't mind trifles. So Dan gave it up at last. He sat down with the funniest look of care on his wise, black face, and with one ear ready for outside noises. Now the minister had for his sub ject this morning, "Daniel." Alas, this was the name he always gave Dan when he was teaching him to sit up and beg, and other tricks. While the dog sat thinking, the name "Daniel" fell on hiB ready ear. Dan at once jumped down and ran into the church through the vestry door. He stood on his hind legs, with his forepaws meekly dropping, close beside the minister, who did not see him, but the congregation did. When the minister shouted "Daniel," again two sharp soprano barks said "Yes, sir," as plainly as Dan could answer. The minister started back, looked around, and saw the funny little picture ; then he coughed and wondered what he should do next; but just then through the vestry came Willie. His face rose from sleep, and he looked a little frightened, ile warned straignt toward his father, and took Dan iu his arms, and said : "Please 'scuse Dan, papa. I went to sleep and he runned away." Then he walked out again with Dau, looking back at the smiling congregation. The minister ended his serman on Daniel as best he could, but then he made a resolve if he ever preached about the prophet Daniel again he would remember to tie up his little black-aud-tan namesak.? L. E. Chittender, in Our LitUe Ones. + Hard and Soft Water in Cooking. All cooks do not understand the different effects produced by hard and soft water in cooking meat and vegetables. Peas and beans cooked in hard water, containing lime and gypsum will not boil tender, because these substances harden vegetable caseiue. Many vegetables as onions, boil nearly tasteless in soft water, because all the flavor is boiled out. The addition oolf nf tan r>ho/>lro this nfi in t.hfi fiflSG Ui OH1U VI bVU VUWuv MW _ of onions; causing the vegetable to retain the peculiar flavoring principles, besides such nutrious matter as might be lost in soft water. For extracting the juice of meat to make a broth or soup, soft water, unsalted and cold at first, is the best, for it much more readily penetrates the tissue; but for boiling where the juices should be retained hard water or soft water salted is preferable, and the meat should be put in while the water is boiling, so as to seal up the pores at one.?Journal of Chemistry. It is a new idea to most persons that edge-tools not infrequently become what artisans term "tired," and will not hold a keen edge uutil they have a rest. This is the statement of carpenters, barbers, and wood-choppers. Locomotive engineers notice something akin to this in their engines. It is probable that constant and hard usage causes changes in the crystilli/.ation that may account for this pecuiarity in inanimate thin gs. Don't Yoii Play t "2>o, I don't play on any instrument," aaitl onr friend, Tom Cringle, in answer to our question. "To tell the truth, I became discouraged by a slight misconception when I was a young man. I wasn't appreciated, you know, and all that sort of thing." "Well, you see," said he, in reply to another question, "it was about twenty years ago, when I was studying law, and my brother was a medical student, and we both fancied we had a I ?i*/\n/lat?Pii1 tolnnf fni? tv>11di/i fin Tnlltl VrUilUCAlUl UUVlll 1\/J UiU0t\? U'/ VWUM bought a-flute and I a fiddle, and turning one of (he attic? into a study, we practiced there half the night through. We didn't want any one to know about it, especially our father, who had very strict notions as to the value of time; and to make him think us usefully employed, I had quantities of law-books heaped up, and John had a skull and all sorts of bones scattered about. We knew that up in our study no one could hear us but Betsey, the housekeeper, and as she was our old nurse we felt sure she would keep our secret. One morning, after we had been whiling the long hours away to our own mutual delight, we f^ame down late to breakftist, looking, I suppose, somewhat unrefreshed. "You mustn't 9tudy too hard, boys," said our father considerately, "Yes, sir," said I, gravely. Just then Betsey appeared at the door, and looked mysteriously at my mother. "Yes, what is it?" said mother, surnrised at Betsev's excited manner. one to do so." And Betsey gave my brother a| look of withering condemnation. My mother was acute enough to see that something unusual was going on in our study, and telling her she would inquire into it, she dismissed her for the present. "That was the end of our musical practice, though not the end of our story, for our father took care we I should not forget it. It was a long time before we heard the last about "that poor cretur up-stairs." * Such a Bother to get Them Keady. "If they could only dress themselves, I should not mind ; but what with getting the last of them fairly off, and picking up after they are gone, it seems to take the best part of the day right off." Exactly. But what if the shoes had been blacked the night before, and the bath-room had been made good use of Saturday, rather than Sunday ? What if, when the clothes of the week were laid off, they had been placed carefull to one side, and the Sunday Ones laid in their stead? What if the lesson-books had been hunted up and placed by the Sunday caps, ready the night before? What if cold meat had taken place of breakfast chicken, aud the time gained given to hair brushing | and necktie tying, rather that attention to those things later? "But they get themselves so dirty if dressed so early." Teach them for one day in seven to keep out of the dirt. "Their father don't like to have it all bustle aud commotion Saturday night; it's ail tUe nignt ne nas, out 01 the week. The Lord don't like all bustle and commotion Sunday ; it's all the day he has, out of the week. "But if the children are to be kept dressed up all day, what are we to do with those who are too small to read for themselves ?" You are to read to them, talk to them. You are to set their little minds to think about the thousand and one things they have little incliuution for when about their play. The blue sky above them and green fields near them, and God, in his great Fatherhood, around and about them. You are to garnish t Ills, the best day of the week, with the sweetest smiles you have, the kindest words aud most loving acts, and to encourage such things in your children. More tlmu any other day of the week you are to make the Sabbath truly useful and peaceful and enjoyable, so that your children iu after jears shall look back upon Ihe Sabbath of their childhood as travelers look back upon the green oasis they have passed in the i sandy deserr. Keep that day as free as possible from the hurry and bustle which belong, by right,to the week; and then hardly noticeable will be the preparations needed in ordor that your children shall go forth prepared, both in mind and body, for the Hunday-school. "Old Tom Smith." 'Who was that man who called here to-day ?" asked a gentleman of his wife. "Oh, that was old Tom Smith," was the reply. And the little boy, who was playing, in the room, caught up the words and continued repeating, "Old Tom 'What is it, Betsey ?' "Well, ma'am,, I wish to say, ma'am,'?Betsey always spoke in that short, nipping way, when she was what she called 'worked up,'?'I must leare you, ma'am.' (tr ao if a T ii/hr 91' HIV JLJTZCk k ^ IUV ?? ?JJ ...j mother. < "Yes, ma'am ; it's twenty-Jive years that I've beeu with you, ma'am?and it's the boys at last, ma'am. I can't stand it, and I ain't going to. It's not Christian-like, ma'am." "What have the hoys been doing?' asked mother. "Its Mr. John, ma'am and sometimes I think Mr. Tom helps him. He's got some poor cretur up-stairs, ma'am, and he torments him awful. He shrieks and groans all the night through. It is worse than the heathen ; I've stood it for more than a week. I did't get a wink of sleep last night, and what the poor cretur went through was dreadful.- I know they say such things must be done by doctors ; but I ain't going to stay where it is, and I never thought John was the Smith." He called his playthings "Old Tom Smith," and last of all he called his elder sister "Old Tom Smith." Whether "Old Tom Smith" inflicted a lasting injury upon that boy's mind we have not learned, but we are confident that Mr. Thomas Smith would not have imperilled his character at all. Why children cateh up a nickname or a low phrase so quickly we do not know ; but, like the parrot who took to swearing rather than praying, they are sure to pick out from the family vocabulary all of those words and phrases which have "low" or "colloquial" marked against them. We remember an unfortunate man .who lived, years ago, in a little Vermont town. He was suffering from defective vision and curvature of the spine. He should have beeu an object of pity, but instead of that some thoughtless man made him forever an object of ridieule by giving him the name of "dnnint.ovn Pntrlia " VJV "B""' Every boy in (he town caught up the epithet. It was a talking, nickuame ; it had a sort of grotesque fitness about it which at once fascinated young America. What "Fogus" meant no one ever knew. The man's name was Pierce, but whenever he appeared some scjon I of the town would shout out, "There goes Squint-eye Fogus," and a general laugh would follow. The result was that in a few years the poor man was everywhere known by this opprobrious epithet; the shame of ridicule was added to the pain and tlieinconvenience of his deformity, and the rising generation were taught to laugh at a misfortune which should have aroused their deepest commiseration.?Golden Rule. Sunday-School Books Deteriorating. "That Sunday-school books have very generally lost their distinctively religious character,'^ says a.secular paper, "is a feature of the times." He then says: "That it is deemed sufficient that they have a moral tendency, and they mostly consist of novels." This witness is true. And many of the novels are poor trash. We could give the names of men and women whose stories are found in most of the Sunday-school libraries, and who have made fortunes by writing them, "where the fact that the books are not immoral is all that can be said in their favor. The free use of the books found in many Sunday-school libraries is pernicious to children. One of the prominent members of Methodist Episcopal Church, to our knowledge, has long refused to allow his children to bring home books from the library, he preferring to select and purchase for them. a boy who was punished for reading a flimsy novel on Sunday astonished his mother on the followsng Sabbath by bringing home the same book from the Sanday-school library. A few good works of fiction worthy the name of moral will not injure such libraries?may, indeed, be an advantage to them?but when the majority are of that class, and when cheap wishywashy stories that weaken the mind and, instead of introducing the germs of manly virtue, perpetuate puerile sentimentality, constitute the bulk of such libraries, fheir influence becomes more than doubtful. What Has Iufldelity Done ? It never raised a man or woman from sin. It never took a drunkard from the gutter, a gambler from his cards, or the fallen from a life of shame. It never found a man coarse and brutal 111 life and character and made of him a kind husband and father. It never went out into heathen lands, among the morally depraved, and lifted them out of their degradation to a high state of civilization. It has never written down languages, translated literature, or prepared textbooks, or planted schools, or established seminaries and colleges. It has never founded hospitals for the sick or homes for the helpless. What discoveries has it made ? What improve- 1 ments has it introduced? Has it < Afliieil nnvthinirto hnman lianoiness ? Does it bring one ray of comfort to the chamber of death ? The religion of Jesus has done all this, ami more too. "The tree is known by its fruits." , ?Exchange. The only piece of ground possessed ( by the United States of America, elsewhere than in America itself is the little plat of laud on which the American Legations j.s built in the town of ( Tangier. This was given to the Amer- , ican nation by the Bultan of Morocco. The Legation in all other countries ( stand on ground rented, but not owned, by the Americau Government. Still the Same. ,-rr ' . % Through the yesterday of r.gef, Jesus, thou hast been the same: , Through our own life's checkered page*, Still tlio one dear changeless N;u?e ; Well may we in thee confide, Faithful Savior, proved nnd "Tried." Joyfully wo stand and witness Thou art still to-i'uy the same; In the perfect, glorious fitness, Mooting every need and claim, Chlcfest of ten thousand thou! Saviour, O most "Precious,"now. Gazing down the far forever, , Brighter glows the one sweet Name, Steadfast radiance paling nevor, . Jesus. Jesus! still the same;' Kvermore, "Thou shall "ndure," * Our own Savior, strong and "Sure." > V % What Others Say. The Church Union. ' "Offend Not the Little Ones." ?There is more danger of being diecourteous to an inferior than to a ru : perior. The master is more likely to offend a servant than a servant is to. ' offend the master. In proportion to one's inferiority in age, rank, or attainments, one is likely to be flighted, misunderstood, and depreciated. Most easy of all, then, if? to be discourteous to a little child. Persous who would not be thought impolite to an adult in -| any station will thoughtlessly offend, or even insult, a little child. A little boy who was standing innocently by his mother while she was entertaining ' a visitor, was asked by that, visitor whether he went to Sunday-school. Being assured that he did, she added : "And what do you learu in Sundayschool?to mind your mother?" \Tbe spirit of that question was one which the questioner herself or any of her peers would rightly resent as unjust ^ and insolent, if applied to any one but 'j$ an innocent and helpless child. It hi an unjust and harmful thing to presume that a cljild is disobedient and .. rebellious simply because it is a child. It is pitiable that a child should be allowed to infer that the most natural I and most rational way for its elders to I n /I #1 HAr-n ? 4- ? vi_t- 1 ? - auuicN 11, in iu )VUIU6 WUll'U lllipiy that it cannot be supposed to have any right instincts, any right thoughts, any right feelings, or to be ready to do right deeds. -'Take heed that ye offeud not oue of these little ones'!?in any such way. J. II. in Messenger of Peace. The Importance of Peace.?The importance of Peace to the best interests of nations and all mankind is so great that people who really wish to 1 see Peace prevail in the world, should ? spend no time iu arguing the question whether war can, in any case, ever be justifiable or not; but as all are agreed that Peace is exceedingly desirable, v| therefore all should in love harmoni- 23 ously labor together for the hastening ' of the time when wars shall cease, so that an appeal to arms in cases of international disagreements will be more strongly condemned than duel1 i rwr nr fluf fi rrli f ir?r# n/^nr iu all Ui'5 VI Mguuug UU TT 10 UJ ail ^uuu and sensible persons. But war is so old ail error in the world, and has been so long considered so necessary, and oftentimes so "glorious," it can not reasonably be expected that it will stop without a hearty and 'friendly.., union of the majority of the wise and good in Christendom against it. . Christian Endeavor.?'Too many j societies. Too much machinery. The church of church of Christ ought to be as simple iu its organization as simplicity itself. Too many organizations in the church divert, divide, weaken. So many societies bode no good to the church, their existence is a proof of 4U... ucuiuic auu wcaaiicsa uulu tutrj lutllr ,*.v tate decline and weakness. The Journal and Messenger says: "How long can the church exist with the Society. We are open to conviction, and shall be glad to hear from those who call set us right. We may see this thing differently at some future time, but just now we have very serious misgivings as to the whole movement. It may die before it has done all the barm towards which it now seems to look." "Bill Nye." "We have people enough who know how to reform the world, but those are williug to take off their coats and attend to it personally are absent without leave." * V vi i rg Onions. Boil in salted water till perfectly done ; pour oil' the water and pour on milk; when it boils add flour and butter stirred together, sufficient to thicken. Or, boil in salted water ten minute.*, then put them in cold fresh wa ter for half an hour; after that place iu a stew-pan with just enough cold fresh water to cover them, and boil gently tiil tender. Drain and serve with melted butter. Thus cooked onions are deprived of their strong odor. Baked Milk. Put a half a gallon of milk in a jar, md tie it down with writing paper. Let it stand in a moderately hot oven eitfht or ten hours. It will be like cream, and is very nutritious. Assistant (to employer): "Please, <ir, what shall I mark this new lot of silks at?" Employer: "Twelve shillings a yard." Assistant: But the cost price is four shillings a yard." Employer: "I don't care what it cost. We are selling oil regardless of cost." r;:;