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A FLAG OF TRUCE. Nay, you have frowned enow, Unknit that threatening brow, Put wrath away, Now While you may. Life is too bare of bliss That we our share should miss, So make amends, Kiss And be friends. ?G. Preston, in the Century. . KACHEL, Royal Moore was Rachel Heath's first 1/vtto or,^ etie Vijirl rpnohed the ap-e of 29 jv ,6, ?- 0 before she met him?quite an old maid; and yet at that age a woman knows her own mind, and her love is much more likely to be lasting and true than the ardent passion of IS. Rachel's life had been such that she Lad never any chauce for what is called falling in love. Her mother had died when she was very young, and the care of an old and sickly father had come upon Rachel. She had fulfilled the trust faithfully. She had borne all the old man's ^querulous fault-finding with gentle patience; she had submitted without a murmur to being kept in the sick room while her young acquaintances were gathered together enjoying themselves; and though Mr. Heath might have spared her as well as not, she never called him selfish even in her thoughts. He was her father and to him she owed every duty. So her sweet youth wore away, and woman's crowning blessing was denied her; and its cheek lost its sea shell bloom, and her dark eyes gathered shadows of thought and sadness which should never come' to young eyes. . At last old Mr. Heath died at the age I of eighty-nine, and Rachel was left all alone. It was then that Royal Moore came into her life. He was a physician, and had * * ^ -T-_ Il?? 1a?4. auenciea ner iaiucr iui iue iust \>ctiv3 ui his existence. Something about tlie girl's calm, quiet endurance?something in the selfreliant strength of her character?touched Dr. Moore's interest before he had even noticed that she had a clearly cut face, rather pale and a little sad, with large hazel eyes and a wealth of curling brown hair. After Mr. Heath died and Rachael was left in the house with only her Aunt Edith for a companion, Dr. Moore applied to Miss Heath for rooms and board. Rachel would hardly have taken him, so accustomed had she become to loneliness, and so much did she dread any breaking up of old habits, but Aunt Edith was strongly in his favor, and so it happened that a fortnight after Mr. Heath's death, Dr. Moore was comfortably established in the south chamber of Rachel's house and was taking his meals opposite her at tpble. , A couple of months they had been engaged when Laura Sayres, a distant consix of Rachel's, took it into her head that she needed the sea air. Rachel lived in the little seagirt town of Beauview, and to "Dear Cousin Rachel" Laura wrote she was coming. Rachel remembered her as a child? golden-haired, blue-eyed and waxenfaced?and of late years she had heard ^ f i ?c-.i i someimng 01 nerwonueriui utrnutv, wmiu had made her the belle of Washington the past season, for her father held an important office at the Capital, and during the winter his family were with him. Dr. Moore was not over-pica- ed at the prospect, for he detested fashionable ladies* he said, and he had no doubt my Lady Laura was frivolous and vain as the majority of them were. He had so much rather have his little Rachel all to himself. Then he kissed her forehead and slid his arm around her waist and drew her to his side, and they stood silently together and heard the sea waves beat on the shore and the crickets chirp in the grass, and neither of them dreamed of the cloud which was even then gathering in the calm sky of their felicity. The next day Laura Sayres came. Just twenty?a slight, graceful girl, with hands like sculptured marble and an arch rosebud of a face, framed in a mass of crinkly golden hair, tied up with azure ribbon and falling in a shower of curls down her shoulders. Yes, there was no gainsaying the fact that Laura Sayres was a beauty, and Dr. Moore, being a man, could not help admiring her. She played and sang finely, too, and he was fond of music. Rachel foresaw that which was to come, but she bore up bravely against it, and was always kind and sweet to Laura and gentle with Royal Moore. Laura, accustomed as she was to being admired and flattered, armromiated Dr. Moore without hesitation. Aunt Edith had mentioned his engagement with Rachel to her, but Laura had lived in the world where engagements are formed and broken to suit the convenience of the parties, and she attached no importance to the communication. She had only said: "Why, Aunt Edith! engaged to that old maid! It is too bad! Why, Dr. Moore is one of the most splendid men I ever met." "Laura," said Aunt Edith, severely, "no man can be too good for Rachel Heath. She is the noblest and truest woman lever met." "Oh, yes, auntie," returned Laura, "I know she is a perfect saint; but then she is so grave and old and she wears her hair in such horrid style! Not a puff, nor a friz, and, I'll venture to say, not a thread of false hair!" "No," said Aunt Edith, "Rachel's head is too full of good sense to allow herself to be done up in hair from the scalp of any lunatic or criminal." Laura flounced out of the room in a pet, and revenged herself by hunting up Dr. Moore and coaxing him to take her out in his boat. It was twilight when they returned, ana itacnei sai on tne piazza and watched them come up the shellpaved walk with an odd pain in her heart. She did not understand Dr. < Moore. Suddenly something seemed to have come between them and to have changed the genial, happy young man into a restless and capricious trifler. . All the brief summer Laura lingered at Beauview, and Dr. Moore was ever her most devoted cavalier. Riding, walking or boating, the two were always together, and though Dr. Moore used at first to ask Rachel to come with them she always declined, and after a time he ceased to ask her. Laura confided her hopes to Rachel one night after the girls had gone to their rooms. She should marry Dr. Moore, for she liked him vastly, and then he was rich and of a good family. "I did fhiak he was engaged to you," * went on the selfish girl, "but, of course, that is all over. No man loves and neglccts a woman at the same time. And you must be ages older than him!" 4'I am twenty-nine ? Dr. Moore is thirty," said Rachel, in a cold harsh voice, which surprised herself, "and if he loves you I should advise you to marry him." "You are such a dear, good creature," cried Laura, kissing her, "and I am so glad that you do not care anything about him. It would be so awkward, you know, if you did. But I hear him com- I !?? 4-*% Viip t?AAm on/1 TTTrt Wlief Vio 1U^ IV UIO tvurn UMU n v utuow WW I So good niglit and pleasant dreams." Pleasant dreams indeed! Poor Rachel never closed her weary eyes that night, and the next morning she looked so worn and ill that even selfish Laura insisted on bathing her head and coddling her to sleep on the sofa. It was early autumn now and the evenings were growing chilly. Rachel had a fire lighted that night on the sittingroom hearth. Laura, all in a diaphanous cloud of white muslin aud azure ribbons, sailed in just before it was time for Dr. Sloore to come from his ofiice. "A fire! a wood fire!" she cried, gayly; "how charming! Royal and I arc to practicc that new song together, and really, it would have been chilly here without the fire. You are very thoughtful, Cousin Rachel. I wonder if I will be as good when I am as old?" She went close to the fire and held her small, white hands out to the ruddy blaze. Her sweeping skirts trailed over the hearth?a breath of air from the open door as Aunt Edith came in swayed them a little nearer, a tongue of flame seized upon the flimsy fabric, and in an instant j the unfortunate girl was wrapped in a clould of fire. A fearful temptation beset Rachel. Do not temptations, at times?temptations dark and evil?beset the best of ? * rr r :?l US? II ijUUlit JUUridLicu 5 nujai mvuig j would be hers once more. The thought went through her brain like lightning, but she cast it behind her with impatient scorn. The next moment she had torn up the hearth-rug and wrapped it around Laura, and forcing the screaming girl down to the floor, she succeeded in smothering the flames, just as Dr. Moore entered the room. She thought it very strange that he should spring to her side, and ask if she were burned, before he every looked at Laura; but afterward he lifted the poor young girl in his arms and carried her up to her room and dressed her wounds and soothed her as best he could. By-and-by he came down, and found Rachel out in the moonlight under the yellow maples. She had bandaged both her hands, for they were fearfully burned, and she had told Dr. Moore she was not hurt. "My dear little girl!" he said, drawing her into the sitting-room, "you have deceived me?you are burned. I must see after this myself." And he took off the wrappers and grew pale at sight of the poor scarred and blistered hands. She submitted to him quietly. His touch brought back to her some of the sweetness of the old time. And she had made up her mind to tell him this very evening that he was free. "Rachel," said he, when he had" finished dressing the burns, "I want to talk to you a little while. You have given me ' no chance lately, and I have been very i unhappy over it. I have at times almost j began to fear that after all you did not j care for me as I thought you did!" "I desire your happiness above anything else," began Rachel, bravely, "and when I saw that you were pleased with Laura, and indeed it is not strange, for she is young and handsome " "Pleased with Laura,"saidDr. Moore. "I was never pleased with her, dear. I have been playing, you will think, a very mean and dastardly game, but my conscience approves rae! Two years ago, Rachael, that girl flirted with my brother Ilenry and broke his heart! He was young, romantic and very susceptible! Her beauty enthralled him. She, like the heartless llirt she is, led him on until he knew no rest nor joy away from her. Then, when his devotion became troublesome?for there was another suitor on hand?she laughed at him for an idiot and frankly told him she had never thought of marrying him. "She had only been amusing herself, and had supposed he was doing the same. It was so ridiculous for people to get in love. Henry went to his lodgings, entered his room, locked the door, and blew out his brains! And when this girl, who had caused his death just as : surely as though her own white hands j had held, the pistol?when she heard of I it, she cried out: 'What a fool! But there! I always thought he was rather weak somehow! aud he was so fond of me! Dear me! how disagreeable it is to have men falling in love with one!' By the side of my poor brother's dead body I made a vow that if ever destiny threw this false and treacherous girl in my way I would punish her for her sin against him, and I have kept my word. Perhaps it is not noble or generous for me to say it, but I believe she loves me. And, Rachel, darling, I love only you!" Despite poor Rachel's' involuntary shrinking back, he took her into his arms and kissed her in the old slow, sweet way. So her lost happiness came back. Laura Sayres was not able to leave her room when Rachel and Dr. Moore went quietly to the village chapel one morning and were married. And when Aunt Edith told Laura oi what was going on?and Aunt Edith had a wicked sort of enjoyment in telling her ?you may well believe there was a scene. The next day Laura went home. A month afterward she married old Goldbrim, who was seventy years old, and worth a million; and the old fellow still lives, and leads her a life of it. Dr. Moore and his wife are living their onforl nninf r?ftiiTifrir lifo nil +Vin lion. *1*"w"? ""-""J "1 pier, mavbc, for the cloud which onco came across the heaven of their love.? New York News. HI A Funeral Car. The New York Central aud Hudson River Railroad Company has just put ou the road a funeral car costing $10,000. The car has three compartments. The front one contains a mahogany catafalque, upon which the coffin rests and is held in place by small steel fastenings. The middle compartment is large, and is fitted up in deep plush, with curtains which can be drawn for complete seclusion. The apartment is for the family and immediate relatives of the dead person. The third compartment is designed for others attending the funeral, and is also richly furnished. The car will accommodate forty persons. . KEY. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: "Oar House cm the Hills." (Preached at the Hamptons, Long Island.) Text: "In my Father's house are many rooms."?John xiv., 2. Here is a bottle of medicine that is a cure all. The disciples were sad and Christ offered heaven as an alternative, a stimulant and a tonic. He shows them that their sormwe am (rnlv n rlnrlr liftpkerftlind of a bricht picture of coming felicity. Ho lets them know that though now thoy live on the lowlands thoy shall yet have a house on tho uplands. Nearly all the Biblo descriptions of heaven may be figurative. I am not positive that in all heaven there is a literal crown or harp or pearly gato or throne or chariot. They may be only used to illustrate tho glories of the place, but how well they dp it! Tho favorito symbol by which the Bible presents celestial happiness is a house. Paul, who never owned a house, although be hired one for two years in Italy, speaks of heaven as a "house not made with hands," and Christ in our text, tho translation of which is a little changed so as to give tho more accurate meaning, says: "In my Father's house arc many rooms." This divinely authorized comparison of heaven to a great homestead of large accommodations I propose to carry out. In some healthy neighborhood a man builds a very commodious habitation. He must havo room for all his children. Tho rooms corno to be called after tho different members of the family. That is mother's room. That is George's room. That is Henry's room. That is Flora's room. That is Mary's room. And tho houso is all occupied. But time goes by and the | sons go out into tho world and build, their own homes and daughters are married or have talents enough siugly to go out and do a good work in tho world. Aftorawhilo I the father and mother aro almost alone in the big house and, sauted by tho evening stand, they say: "Vv'ell, our family is no larger now than when wc started together forty years ago." Hut linio goos still further by and some of tho children arj unfortimato and return to tho old homestead to live, and the grand-children coma with tham, and perhaps great-grandchildren, and again the house is full. Many millennia ago God built on tho bills of heaven a great homestead /or u family innumerable, yet to bo. At first lit- lived alone in that great house, but after a while it was occupied by a very large family, cherubic, seraphic, augelic. The etenii'.i"? passed on and many of tho inhabitants be-.vi.nic wayward and left never to return. And \us.ny of the apartments were vacated. I ? sfer to the fallen Angels. Now tiiese apartments are filling up again. There arc arrival, at the old homestead of God's children every day, and tkC 3ay will come when there will be no unoccupied room in all tho house. As you and I expect to enter it and make there eternal residence, I thought you would like to get some moro particulars about that many-roomed homestead. "Iu my Father's house are many rooms." You see the place is to be apportioned off into apartments. We t shall love all who are in heaven, but there L are some very good people whom we would not want to live with in the same room. They may be better than we are, but they are of a divergent temperament. We would like to meet with them on tho golden streets and worship with them in the tomple and walk witb them on the river 1- 1? l-.i- T -.1- J x- iU-i. an&s, out i am giuu w liuii wo autui live in different apartments. "In my Father's | house are many rooms." You see heaven will be so large that if ono want an entire room to himself or herself, it can be afforded. An ingenious statistician taking the statement made in Revelation, twenty-first chapter, that the heavenly Jerusalem was measured and found to bo twelve thousand furlongs and that the length and height and breadth of it are equal, says that would mako heaven in size 948 sextillion 988 quintillion cubic feet, and then reserving a certain portion for the court of heaven and the streets, and estimating that the world may last a hundred thousand years, he ciphers out that there aro over five trillion rooms, each i;oom seventeen feet long, sixteen feet wide, fifteen feet high. But I have no faith in the accuracy of that calculation. He makes the rooms two small. From all I can read, the rooms will bo palatial, and those who have not had enough room in this worid will have plenty of room at the last. The fact is that most people in this world are crowdad, and though out on a vast prairie or in a mountain district poople may have more room than they want, in most cases it is house built close to house, and the streets arc crowded and the cradlo is crowded by other cradles, and the graves crowded in the cemetery by other graves, and one of the richcst luxuries of many people in getting out of this world will be the gaining of unhindered and uncramped room. And I should not wonder if instead of the room tnat tno statistician cipneroa out as only seventeen feet by sixteen, it should ba larger than any of the imperial rooms at Berlin, St. James or Winter Palace. "In my Father's house are many rooms." Carrying out still further the symbolism of the text let us join hands and go up to this majestic homestead and see for ourselves. As wo ascend the golden steps, an invisible guardsman swings open the front door and we are ushered to the right into the reception room of the old homestead. jTliat is the Elace where we first meet the welcome of eaven. There must be a place where the departed spirit enters and a place in which it confronts the inhabitants celestial. The*'^ ception room of the newly arrived from this world?what scenes it must have witnessed since the first guest arrived, the victim of the first fratricide, pious Abel. In that room Christ lovingly greeted all new com- I ers. He redeemed them and Ho has the right to the first embrace on their arrival. What a minute when the ascended spirit first sees the Lord. Better than all wo ever read about Him or talked about Him or sang about Him in all the churches and through all our earthly lifetimo, will it be, just for one second to see Him. The most rapturous idea we .ever had of Him on sacrarnmtal days or at tho height of some great revival or under the uplifted baton of an oratorio are a bankruptcy of thought compared -with the first flash of His appearance in that reception room. At that moment when you confront each other, Christ looking upon you and you looking upon Christ, there will bean ecstatic thrill and surging of emotion that beggars all description. Look! They need no introduction. Long ago Christ chosc that repentant sinner and that repentant sinner chose Christ. Mightiest moment of an immortal history?the first Iciss of heaven! Jesus and the soul. The soul and Jesus. But now into that reception room pour 4-1,~ ~ O OUU glUIIUUU iVLUdJLUiH. JUUUU^il UL earthly retention to let you lcnow them, but without their wounds or their sicknesses or their troubles. See what heaven has done for them. So radiant, so gleeful, so transportingly lovely. They call you by name. They greet you with an ardor proportioned to the anguish of your parting and the length of your sopara- , tion. Father! Mother! There is your child, listers I Brothers! Friends! I wish you joy. For years apart, together again in the reception room of the old homestead. You see they will know you are coming. There are so many immortab filling all the spaces between here and heaven that news like that flies like lightning. They will be there in an instant; though they were in some other world on errand from God a signal would be thrown that would fotch them. Though you might at first feel dazed and overawed at then* supernal splendor, all that feeling will be gone at tneir first touch of heavonly salutatiou, and we will say: "O my lost boy," "0 my lost companion,""0 my lost friend,are we here togother?" What scenes have been witnessed in the reception room of the old homestead! There met Joseph and Jacob, fmdiug it a brighter room than anything they saw i i Pharaoh's palace; David and tho littla child for whom ho ouce fasted and wept; Mary and Lazarus after the heartbreak of Bethany; Timothy and grandmother Lois; Isabella Graham and her sailor son, Alfred and George Cookman, tho mystery of the sea at last made manifest; Luther and Magdalene, the daughter he bemoaned; John Howard and the prisoners whom he gospclized; and multitudes without number who, once so weary and so sad, parted on earth but gloriously met in heaven. Among all the rooms of that house thero ia no one that mora enraptures my soul than that reception-room. "In my Father's house aro many rooms." Another room in our Father's house is the throne room. We belong to tho royal family. The blood of King Jesus flows in our veins, so we have a right to enter the throne | room. It is no easy thing on earth to get through even the outside cloor of a King's residence. During the Franco-German war, one eventide in the summer of 1870, I stood studying the oxguisite sculpturing of the gate of the Tuileries, Paris. Lost in admiration of the wonderful art of that gate I oiew not that I was exciting suspicion. Lowering my eyes to the crowds of people I found myself being closely inspected by governmental officials, who from my complexion judged me to be a German, and that for some belligerent purpose I might bo examining the gates of the palace. My explanations in very poor French did not satisfy them and they followed mo long distances until I reached my hotel, and were not satisfied until from my landlord they found that I was only an inoffensive American. The gates of earthly palaces are carefully guarded, and, if 60, how much moro severely the throne room. A dazzling place is it for mirrors and all costly art. No one who ever saw the throne of the first and only Napoleon will ever forget the letter N embroidered in purple and gold on the upholstery of chair and window, the letter N gilded on the wall, the letter N chased on the chalices, the letter N flaming from the ceding. What a conflagration of brilliance the throne room of Charles Immauuel of Sardina, of Ferdinand of Spain, of Elizabeth of England, of Bouifaco of Italy, But the throno room of our Father's house hath a glory eclipsing all the throne rooms that ever saw scepter wave or crown glitter or foreign Ambassador bow, for our Father's throne is a throne of grace, a throne of mercy, a throne of holiness, a throne of justice, a throne of universal dominion. "We need not stand shivering and cowering before it, for our Father says we may yet one de^ come up and sit on it beside Him. "To him that vercometh Willi grant to sit with Me in My throne." You see wo are Princes and Princesses. Perhaps now we move about incognito, as Peter the Great in the garb of a ship carpenter at Amsterdam, or as Queen Tirzah in the dress of a peasant woman seeking the prophet for her child's cure; but it will bo found out after awhile who we are when we get into the throne room. Aye I we need not wait until then. "Wo may by prayer and 6ong and spiritual uplifting this mo* mont enter the throne room. 0 King, live forever! "We touch the forgiving scepter and prostrate ourselves at Thy fcefc! The crowns of the royal families of this world are tossed about from generation to generation and from family to family. Tltero aro children four years old in Berlin who have seen the crown on three Emperors. But wherever the coronets of this world rise or fall, they are destined to meet in one place. And I look and see them coming from north and south and enst and 'west, the Spanish srown, the Italian crown, the English crc wn, tno Turkish crown, the Russian crown, the Persian crown, ave, all the crowns from under the great archivolt of heaven; and while I watch and wonder they are all flung in rain oi diamonds around tbo pierced feet. .Tesus shall reign wher'er the sun Does his succcsslve journeys run, nis kingdom stretch from shore to shore Till sun shall rise and set no more. Oh, tliafc throne room of Christ! "In my Father's house are many rooms." Another room in our Father's house is the music room. St. John and other Bible writers talk so much about the music of heaven that there must bo music there, perhaps not such as on earth was thrummed from trembling string or evoked by touch of ivory Icey, but if not that, then something better. There aro so many Christian harpists and Christian composers and Christian organists and Christian choristers and Christian hymnologists that have gone up from earth, there must bo for them some place of especial delectation. Shall wo have music in this world of discords and no music in the land of comploto harmony? I cannot gIVo you the notes of the first bar of tho new song that is sung in heaven. I cannot imagine cither the solo or the doxology. But heaven means music, and can mean nothing else. Occasionally that music has escaped the gate. Dr. Fuller dying at Beaufort, S. C., said: "Do you not hear?" "Hear what?" exclaimed tho bystanders. "The music! Lift ma up! Open the windows 1" In that music-room or our Father's house, you will some day meet the old Christian masters, Mozart and Handel and Mendelssohn and Beethoven and Doddridge, whose sacred poetry was as remarkable as his sacred prose, and James Montgomery and William Cowper, at laet got rid of his spiritual melancholy, and Hiclmn wVin cancr rtf inw mountains and India's coral strand;" and Dr. Raffles, who wrote of "High in yonder realms of light," and Isaac Watts, who went to visit Sir Thomas Abney aud wife for a week but proved himself so agreeable a guest that they made him stay thirty-six years; and sido by side, Augustus Toplady, who has got over his dislike for Methodists, and Charles "Wesley freed from his dislike for Calvinists; and George W. Bethune, as sweet as a song maker as ne was great as a preacber and tho author of "The Village Hymns;" and many who wrote in verse or song, in church or by eventide cradle, and many who wero passionately fond of music but could mako none themselves. The poorest singer there more than any earthly prima donna, and the poorest players 1 there more than any earthly Gottschalk. Oh that music room, the headquarters o? cadenco and rhythm, symphony and chant, psalm and antiphon! May we be there some nour when Haydn sits at the keys of one of his own oratorios, aud David the psalmist fingers the harp, and Miriam of the Red sea banks claps the cymbals, and Gabriel puts his lips to the trumpet and tho four-and-twenty soldiers chant, and Lind and Parepa render matchlees duet in the music room of the old beavonly homestead. "In my Father's house are many rooms." Another room in our Father's house will bo tho family room. It may correspond somewhat with the family room on earth. At morning and evening you know, that is the placo we now meet. Though every member Df the household have a separate room in tho family room thoy all gather and joys and sorrows and experiences of all styles are there rehearsed. Sanfia/1 *?/wm in nil aii?* rltt'/jlllnrvnl Whmfhai* if U VU ? WU1 iU Uli UU1 UWlAUJgOi V* UUVUC1 1U be luxurious with ottomans and divans and books in Russian lids standing in muhogany case, or there be only a few plain chairs and a cradle. So the family room on high will be the place where the kinsfolk assemble and talk over the family experiences of earth, the weddings, the births, the burials, the festal days of Christmas and Thanksgiving reunion. Will the children dep uted remain children there? Will the aged remain aged there? Oh, no; everything is perfect there. The child will go ahead to glorified maturity and the aged will go back to glorified maturity. The rising sun of the ono will rise to meridian and the descending sun of the other will return to meridian. However much we love our children on earth we would consider it a domestic disaster if they stayed children and so we rejoice at their growth hero. And when we meet in the family room of our Father's house, we will be glad that they have grandly and gloriously matured; while our parents who were aged and infirm here, we shall be glad to find restored to the most agile and vigorous immortality there. If forty or forty-five or fifty years be the apex of physical and mental life on the earth, then the heavenly childhood will advance to that and the heavenly old age will retreat to that. When wo join them in that family room we shall have much to ten mem. we shall wont to know of them right away such things as these: Did you seo us in this or that or tho other struggle ? Did you know when we lost our property and sympathize with us? Did you know wo had that awful sickness? Were you hovering nnywhero around when wo plunged into that memorable accident? Did you know of our backsliding? Did you know of that moral victory? Were you pleased when we started for heaven? Did you celebrate the hour of our conversion? ibid then, whether they lenow it or not, we will tell thom all. But they will have more to tell us than we to tell them. Ten years on earth may bo very eventful, but what must bo the biography of ten years in heaven? They will have to tell us the story of coronations, story of news from all immensity, story of conquerors and hierarchs story of wrecked or ransomed planets, story of angelic victory over diabolic revolts, of extinguished suns, of obliterated constellations, of now gaJaxies kindled and swung, of stranded comets, of j worlds on lire, and story of Jehovah's majestic reign. If in that family room of our Father's house we have so much to tell them of wbat wo have passed through since we parted, how much more thrilling and arousing that which they have to toll us of what they have passed through since we parted. I Surely that family room will be one of tue most | favored rooms in all our Father's bouse. What long lingering thero, for we shall never again be in a hurry. "Let mo open a window," said an humble Christian sctVant to Lady Raffles, who, because of the death of her child, had shut herself up in a dark room and refused to see any one; "you have been many days in this dark room. Are you not ashamed to grieve in this manner, when you ought to be thanking God for having given you the most beautiful child that ever was seon, and instead of leaving him in this world till ho should be worn with trouble, has not God taken him to heaven in all his beauty? Leave off weeping and let me open a window." So to-day I am trying to open upon the darkness of earthly separation the windows and doors and rooms of the heavenly homestead. "In my Father's house are many rooms." How would it do for my sermon to leave you in that family room to-day? I am sure there is no room in which you would rather stay than in the enraptured circle of your asceuded and glorified kinsfolk. We might visit other rooms in our Father's house. There may be picture galleries penciled not with earthly art but by some process unknown in this world. preserving for the next' worli the brightest and most stupendous seen03 of human nistory. And there may bo lines and forms of earthly beauty preserved for heavenly inspection in something whiter and chaster and richer than Venetian sculpture ever wrought. Rooms beside rooms. Rooms over rooms. Large rooms. Majestic rooms, opalescent rooms, amethystine rooms. "In my Father's house are many rooms." I hope none of us will be disappointed about getting there. There is a room for us if wo will go and take it, but in order to reach it it is absolutely necessary that we take the right way; and Christ is the way: and wo must enter at tho right door, ana Christ is the door; and we must start in time, and the only hour you are sure of is the hour tho clock now strikes and tke only second the one vour watch Is now ticking. I hold in my hand a roll of letters inviting you all to make that your homo forever. Tne New Testament is ODlya roll of letters inviting you, as the spirit of them practically says: "My dying yet immortal child in earthly neighborhood, I have built for you a great residence. It is full of rooms. I nave furnished them as no palace was ever furnished. Pearls aro nothing, emeralds are nothing, cbrysoplirasus is nothing; illumined panels of sunriso and sunset, nothing; the aurora of tho northern heavens, nothing?compared with the splendor with which I have garnitured them. But you must be clean before you can enter there, and so I have opened a fountain where you may wash all your sins away. Comouowl Put your weary but cleansed feet on the upward pathway, Do you not see amid th9 thick foliage on the heavenly hill-tops the old family homestead!1" "In my Father'fi house aro many rooms." TEMPERANCE. THE WRECK! In sight o1 the careless passer-by Who sees, but not with the sailor's eye, The wreck lies stranded high and dry. A -noble shin once staunch and strong:. Whose cabins echoed the joyous song7 Whose deck was trodden by a happy throng. Gone are her towering masts and spars, That almost seemed to reach the stars. Crowned many a time by gallant tars. The battered hull now crushed and thin, Where the rising tides rush out and in, Was built in ocean wars to win. She fell! But not by the hand of time. This bark should now be in her prime, A perfect ship in any clime. She fell, as falleth mortal man, Who has thwarted heaven's alotted plan By the cursed cup?life's poisonous ban. Two wrecks! one sinks'mid tears and prayers, But how the useless ship's wreck fares No mortal knows, no mortal cares. *-Mrs.2f. A.Kidder,in Temperance Advocate BURNED BY DRINK. Dr. Booth, in the British Medical Journal, tells a horrible story of the spontaneous combustion of on alcohol consumer. He was sixty-five years old and a thorough sot. The remains wero found against a stone wall in a burnt and charred condition. The soft tissues had been entirely consumed. Such instances are rare, but not-at all impossible. Dr. Henry Miller tells us of the phosphoric odor at times emanating from the skin of drunkards, and mentions that their breath has been seen to glow in the dark. THE NATIONAL DRINK BILL. Adding these various items, we have for the United States the following liquor bill: Direct cost of liquors ?900 000.000 Lost labor of drunkards and tipplers 400,000)000 Lost labor of sober men 40,000,000 raupensm e,uuu,vw Crime 37,500,000 Inanity and disability 17,000,000 Sickness 100,000,000 Lost labor of liquor-makers 800,000,000 Total $1,802,500,000 We came out of our Civil War with a debt of $2,800,000,000, and we thought that was ; terrible. Now, in a time of profound peace, we aro sacrificing every 18 months almost the cost of the Civil War in maintaining tho liquor traffic to reduce our free-born men to a hopeless slavery. SIGNIFICANT STATISTICS. Mr. Nelson, the most distinguished of Eng. lish actuaries, after long and careful investigations and comparisons, ascertained by actual experience the following astounding facts: Between the ages of fifteen and twenty, where ten total abstainers die, eighteen moderate drinkers die. Between the ages of twenty and thirty, where ten total abstainers die, thirty-one moderate drinkers die. Between the ages of thirty and forty, whera ten total abstainers die, forty moderate drinkers die. Or, expressing the fact in an oilier way no says: jtx luwii auMumu unuuty years old has tha chance of Jiving forty* four years longer, or until sixty-four years old. A moderate drinker has the chance of living fifteen and one-half years longer, or until thirty-five and one-half years old. A total abstainer thirty years old has the chance of living thirty-six and one-half years longer, or until sixty-six and one-half years old. A moderate drinker thirty years old has the chance of living thii-teon and one-half years longer, or until forty-three and threefourths years old. A total abstainer forty years old has the chance of living twenty-eight and one-fourth years longer, or until sixty-eight and one-half years old. A moderate drinker forty years old, has the chance of living eleven and two-thirds years longer, or until fifty-oae and one-half years old. TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. Last year 1356 people died of delirium tremensin England. Drinking-shops in California increased in eight years from 14,000 to 31,000. England and "Wales in February last had a total pauper population of 762,853. Drink produces sickness. A careful computation gives about 150,000 persons simultaneously sick in the United States, as the result of using intoxicants, at a cost of more than $50,00u,000. The protest of the high ^ caste Hindoos ngainsn tne saie 01 liquor aus ui awu uuui the viceroy of India the declaration that drunkenness is only prevalent among powerful and progressive races. According to the theory of this statesman, the drunker the Hindoos get the higher they are climbing in the scale of civilization. Dr. Huss, of Sweden, says that half his nation are annually consuming an averago of forty gallons of liquor each; that new diseases have increased fearfully in prevalence and intensity, and that, in consequence, the Swedes have deteriorated in stature and physical strength. The testimony from France and other nations of Europe is similar. Mr. M. A. Gault, who has been at work for the W. C. T. U. in Missouri, tells of one town where an enterprising citizen was about to open a billiard hall but was forestalled by the ladies of the W. C. T. U., who paid the tendollar license fee and established a lunch counter and reading room instead of the billiard table. In another town the ladies took turns in going to the saloon with their knitting, sitting all day and evening until the saloon closed out. Recent official inspection of Russian prisons has revealed a sad state of overorowding. A general increase of crime is reported, of which the widespead drunkenness now prevailing in the village communes is a principal cause. In one prison in the Caucasus there were said to be but a few weeks ago three hundred and gixty prisoners huddlea together in a building designed for but eighty cqnvicts. The Government does nothing to check this growing avH of drunkenness, but rather encourages pie licensed taverns. j RELIGIOUS READING. A TIMELY PRAYER. "I will run the way of thy commandments."? Psa. 119:33. When from Thy path I wander, Lord, Oh, hedge my way around, And plant Thine angel with his sword Where snares and sin abound! When to Thy throne my prayers ascend, Sift well what I entreat, And from the chaff, oh, condescend To separate the wheat! Wh n 'twixt two paths I halt, decide Thyself for me the way; Compel me closer to Thy side, Nor j-uffer me to stray! If 'gainst i by strength, Almighty One^ My weakne s I would fling, Give me to view Thy glori .us throne, And bow before my King! ANSWERS TO FRAYE* , The leader in John Street Praver-Meeting for Business Men told a remarkable incident, illustrating the principle of faith, and what dependence upon God in an emergency accomplished. In substance he said: Some years ago a student at West Point Military Academy was so indolent and stupid that he was regarded as about the poorest student in his class. There was united with indol nee and stupidity a remarkable love of pleasure, which mad9 him wholly indifferent about the opinions of his teachers. There occurred, about this time, in West Point a remarkable religious awakening, in which this young man was converted to God, and the elfect of the wonderful cnange or heart which passed within him was seen in the entire change which characterized his habits pf study and hjj obedience to the laws aud professors of the institution. His intellect now brightened up as by a miracle, aud verv soon by diligence and application lie took first rank in all his studies save one, leading his class in all but mathematics. The dny of graduation was fast approaching and the young converted cadet feared his deficiency in the above science, and felt that he would certainly b9 rejected. The day came. The examination hall was crowded with professors, students and spectators. The examining professor, approaching the blackboard, drew a figure and stepped back, calling on the young cadet to demonstrate the proposition. It was a crucial moment. With trembling knees and pale face th? student went slowly to the blackboard. He knew that every eye throughout t he breathless audience was fixed upon him. Ho took the chalk. He saw at once that the proposition wa< one of the most abstruse and difficult character, and he had not the remotest conception of how to begin the demonstration. Just then he lifted his heart in silent prayer to the Saviour who was so precious to his soul and said: "0 Lord, help me. It is impossible to succeed here without Thy help. Lrrd Jesus come to me now aad give me wisdom and ability to demonstrate this most difficult proposition for Thy name's sake." Scarcely had the last word of prayer passed from his heart when the Lord impressed his mind in a remarkable manner. First, one thought was given and he put it down on the blackboard, and then another and another until the explanation was complete and fulL He stood looking at the figure and th?n at what the Lord had impressed upon his mind to place upon the board boside it. He stepped back, awaiting the comment of his examiner. The professors looked at the proposition, and then looked with surprise at eacn otuer. j "Young man," said one of them, "where di i you find that demonstration? It is wonderful. It is certainly the best we have ever seen." And they kept up for soma time the Erivato conversation with the greatest possile interest. The enthusiasm of the assembled spectators in manifestations of sympathy and applause knew no bounds. The young Christian cadet, by the help of his divine Master, won the day. Eh veiy soon thereafter decided to abandon his bright prospects as an officer in th9 army and enter the ministry of Christ He did so; and after a distinguished service of years as a soul-winner, his happy spirit passed upward to his heavenly reward.?Rev. John,Boyd in N. Y. IFuness CHRISTIAN CONSCIOUSNESS. With all that has been said upon this subject, there is much in the popular sentiment that indicates a want of it on the part of many who bear the Christian name as revealed iu the line of Dr. Anderson's article in the Religious Herald of May 23, upon Church lotteries. There is a lack of consciousness of that which is unchristian. A need of a more discriminating Christian culture. There is manifest too little "for Christ's sake" and too much allowed for the sake of the pecuniary gain, and for the enjoyment of sensual pleasures. The banquets for raising funds for benevolent objects, the entertainments for missionary purposes, the balls for city missions, the various things suggestivo of the lottery, all call for a dis criminating b tween that which is Christian , and that which is not. lest the Christian, or ' the Christian church be placed in an entirely false position. At best, one is liable to be placed in doubt in regard to his duty. Dr. "Washington Gladden, in his work upon "Applied to Christianity," represents the philo-< phy of the church in the past upon popular amusements, to have been largely embraced in the advice of Douglas Jerrold to tl-.ose about to marry, "Doivt!" But we should noc therefore flee to the opposite extreme without discrimination, Henry "Ward B:echer, whom no ono will accuse of being over scrupulous or too restrictive, either in principle or practice says, "In all case ; where men are in doubt and perplexity as to what is right and what is d st, as to what you may do and what you may not do?be sure to give the greater advantige to the moral element. If you make a mistake, let it be on the right side. It is better that a man should not avail himself of liberties thit he might take, than that he should avail himself of advantages that he should not take. It is better for a man to bo too careful and scrupulous, thau for him to be unscrupulous and careless. Men that look at everything simply in the light of their own interests, grow narrow, mean and foolish, and at last come to stand in their own light." Again he says, a man who is attempting to live a Christian life on one side and a worldly life Qn the other, is like a sick man who has made up his mind that what the doctor says is all roily, ana tnat, since ne d' es not like tho regimen and the medicine, ho will do that which is most agreeable to him. "When the physician and nurse are out, he steals into the pantry and loads his stomach with things that aggravate the disease. The suggestion of Dr. Bushnell, to the young larly inquiring as to the propriety of indulging in amusements about which peoT le d ffcred. that l;e was sorry her mind was troubled with the matter. It would be far better not to want them, but to be desirous of far hi?her sourc a of enjoyment. It would settle at once many questions of doubt. There is a place for amusement in life, but it is as a means, not as an end. It is a way of refreshing the mind and invigorating the strength: but when entertainment is the principal thing sought, when in the pursuit the mind is enfeebled, and the health injured, it becomes a perversion and waste of being, degrading ana ruinous. Sometimes a noble failure serve? the world as faithfully as a distinguished success. Truth is the most powerful thing in the world, since fiction can only please us by it.i resemblance to it.?Shaft esbury. Wo are all sculptors and painters and our material is our own flesh and blood, and bones. Any nobleness begins at once to refine a man's features; any meannoss or sensuality, to imbrute them.?Thoreau. ONE WAY OF ENCOURAGING INTEMPERANCE. "A good cigar given away with every schooner of beer." I went in and took a schooner. The beer was bad, but the cigar was worse than the beer. But other inducements were inside to lead me on. A goblet containing a half gallon?and its dimensions guaranteed by the statement?was on the counter. T wentyflvo cents was the forfeit if the drinker breathed while drinking. The reward was the same in case of success. The saloon proprietor generally got the forfeit. It is on | record that one man got the reward, but he has not been heard from since. He may be in the Morgue. This is the way intemperance is encouraged in the Fourth ward.?-Ngu> York Herald. V'"V* - Ti , ': "?-' Ij. \ : ' . ' ; 'fM MBMnHBHMBOWMnHMONMMV ^ ? WOEDS OF WISDOM. ' Character is true wealth. Any one can act natural by keeping still. Every throb of the heart is a new birth. None but the rich can afford "dear" friendii. . , The only "fall of man" is when he falls behind. Competition is a necessity to the activity of life. T j Education that restrains the desire to learn is false. Not hing great -was ever achieved without enthusiasm. Charity and personal force are the only . investments worth anything. Most people would succeed in small things if they were not,troubled with great ambitions. We do love beauty at first sight; and we do cease to love it if it is not accompanied. by amiable qualities. He who is false to present duty breaks a thread in the loom, and will find the flaw when he may have forgotten itis cause. Candor is the seal of a noble mind, the ornament and pride of man, the sweetest charm of woman, the scorn of rascals and the rarest virtue of sociability. The training a man gets is the staging by which, if he chooses, he can build himself up, but if the structure rises to any great height it must support the staging. Whatever the number of man's friends, there will be times in his life when he has one too few; but if he has only one enemv. he is luckv indeed if he has not one too many. People who speculate about the future from their devoted 'study of the past, may as well be pronounced dead,' for surely they do not live in the present, which is all the time there is to exist in. America's Great Success. j Sixty millions of people enjoy already the incomparable advantages which our incomparable institutions offer to one and all, but a hundred millions of people could now be sustained without increasing the area of a single farm or adding one to their number by merely bringing ' the product up to the. average standard of reasonably good agriculture, and then there might remain for export twice the quantity we now send abroad to feed the hungry of foreign lands. The Empire of Germany, together with Holland and Belgium has about the same extent of territory as the State of Texas, and the good land of the farmer is no better than in the latter, and, while the population of Texas is not over 2,000,000, the population of Germany, Holland and Belgium exceeds 50,000,000. France, with an area of 132,000,000 of acres and 38,000,000 of people, has less land than Iowa, Kansas and Nebraska, and yet these three States only have a population of about 4,000,000, and the largest por- . tion of their land is as fertile as that of J France. A like comparison might be made in reference to other parts of the United States and other nations, showing the same results. The four States just mentioned do not count more than six million people, but they could easily sustain a population equal to that of Great Britain, Germany and France put together. There can be no doubt of the agriculturaf AArtrtkilifiaa ill Q TTnifo^ QfofflC f/* TT?01Y1 ? < , I uapauuiwi^o VX vug v; U1 bVU uwiwv w tain a population greater than that of'any other equally large inhabitable portion of the globe, and there is no doubt that the American race is destined to exercise the commanding influence in tfye world's future. When Napoleon I. drew up his troops before the Mamelukes under the shadow of the great pyramids, pointing to the latter, he said: "Soldiers, remember that from yonder heights forty centuries look down upon you!" Americans may justly and proudly, from the pyramid top of opportunity, look back on four centuries and streteh out their arms into the future with power to mold the destinies of unborn millions, for they . t occupy the Gibraltar of the ages, which commands the future of the world.?Mail and Express. Too Much Bathing Bad for Athletes. Says an old and experienced athlete: "This is the season of the year when young men who are fond of athletics ought to listen to sound advice in regard , to bathing. But of course they won't, *; for they think they know it all. After a sprint or a game of ball on a hot day, they will go off and take a cold shower-' bath before they have cooled off, a prac- . tice which is always dangerous and often fatal. The intelligent athlete indulges in no such folly, but having taken the lightest possible sponge-bath to remove the perspiration, allows himself to cool - "Dolkir*/* -Jo a n-AA/l fYtlntf* Uil ^rauuailj. imkuiu^ 1*3 o ^uuu VU4MQ! but indiscriminate and unwise bathing is almost worse than no bathing at all. I know young men with whom bathing haa become a mania, and whose skin has become dry and scally, because they are constantly washing off the natural oil necessary to keep the skin in good condition. It is interesting to note the fact that Romans were a great people until they beeame addicted to the bath. That period marked the beginning of their 'decline and fall off,' as Mr. Wegg would say. To all, whether athletes or not, I would say: Don't let the bathing habit grow on you, for if you do, you will surely wash away much of you that is essential to your physical happiness."? New York Tribune. Remedy for Sunstrokes. Whatever is to be done in this disease, mu3t be done quickly. Clinical, as well as experimental observations, enforces this doctrine. There should in such cases be no waiting for the doctor. The remedy is so simple, the death so imminent, that the good Samaritan passing by should save his brother. The good Samaritan, must, however, have a cool head to be useful. Not every mor. Trim -folia linormsnious on a hot dav UUIU ITUU 1M1*W _ ^ has sunstroke. There is fortunately one criterion so easy of application that any one can use it. Go at once to the fallen man, open his shirt bosom and lay the hand upon his chest; if the skin be cool, you may rest assured that whatever is the trouble, it is not sunstroke. If, on the contrary, the skin be burning hot, the case is certainly sunstroke, and no time should be lost. The patient should be carried to the nearest pump or hydrant, stripped to his waist, and bucketfal after bucketful of cold water dashed over him until consciousness begins to return, or the intense heat of the surface decidedly abates.?St. Louit Magazine.