Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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? " I I I I. SLEEP. Thou best of all, God's choicest blessing, Sleep; ^Better thai: Earth can afford?wealth, power, fame: They change, decay; thou always art the same; Through all the years thy freshness thou dost keep; Over all lands thine even pinions sweep. The sick, the worn, the blind, the lone, the lame, Hearing thy tranquil footsteps, bless thy name; Anguish is soothed, sorrow forgets to weep. ' Thou ope'st the captive's cell and bid'st him roam; Thou giv'st the hunted refuge, fre'st the slave, Show'sttho outcast pity, call'st the exile home; Beggar and king thine equal blessings reap. We for our loved ones wealth, joy, honors crave; But God, He giveth His beloved?sleep. ? Thrnnrut NtJjsmi Pane, in the CentHi'V. A WILD GOOSE CHASE. Mrs. Jcannette Borroughs, for many .years a client of the law-firm of Hibden Holden, in whose office I was undertclerk, was at last dead; and by a will Aad left the greater part of her comfortable little property to a certain Miss Emma Brookes, who had for five years lived j aprith her as companion. Mr. Holden was appointed executor of : the will, in; which capacity it became j necessary that he should immediately communicate with Miss Brookes; but Jiere an unexpected difficulty presented. ..Everybody knew that the youug lady ''Siad left Mrs. Royal some six months since to take chargc of her father, who Jiad become blind and paralyzed; but beyorid the fact that she was in New York, .nothing was known of her address. Adxeriisem?nts were inserted in the papers; but. as after two weeks no answer was received, Mr. Holden began to think of employing a detective to hunt out the .missing legatee. It was just at this moment that Mrs. Royal's late cook suddenly remembered that shortly after she herself came into the old lady's service, Miss Brookes had visited a relative in Grecnyille, whom she called "Cousin Mary Dixon." Here was at last a clue, and Mr. Hol-den straightway directed me to proceed 4o Greenville, and there hunt up Mrs. or Miss Mary Dixon, and through her ascer tain the thereabouts ot Miss imma Brookes. As Greenville, though a considerable town, could not boast of a directory, I had no other alternative but to canvas the place as it were; and thus, after a day's arduous work, learned from a clergyman that a member of his congregation bore the name of Dixon, and also, he thought, the Christian name of Mary. She was a widow, and resided on Orchard street. He did not remember the number, but the street being a short one I could easily find her. This indeed I did, for the first person of whom I inquired on the street in question?a small boy?not only pointed out to me the house in which he said Mrs. Mary Dixion resided, but volunteered to arouse the inmates, which he did by a vigorous pounding on the door, until I bought him off with the present of a nickel. In answer to the summons, a neat woman presented herself with a broom in her hand, which she quietly dropped at sight of me. I apologized, explaining that the performance on the door had not been mine, And inquired if Mrs. Mary Dixon lived there. s . "Yes, she live3 here," the woman reA?mo fViA ltAiico T ort/3 ?;uga. uuc unuo vut? uvuov uuu x nuu my son rent part of it from her. Do you want to see her particular?" ' I wish to see her on a little business m: tter." What sort of business!" **A little private matter, which I will uexplain to Mrs. Dixon herself." ^ .. % lv0h, there's no call to be so particular. 1 asked merely be cause she ain't at home, and I thought I could explain when she -comes back. She's gone to Middleton to ielp nurse her sister's children, that's down with the measles." I was vexed to find myself thus balked just as my search seemed crowned with success. But there was no alternative save to follow Mrs. Dixon to Middleton ?a journey of two hours by rail?and I accordingly inquired her address in that town. "Well, I don't know the number; it's -tat Mr. John Smith's she's staying. Some where on Cherry Street? Or, stay! it may be Peach, I dare say my son's wife ' inows." Then lifting her voice, she called: *'Mariar!" *Tf?re was no answer, but from the "kitchen came the strong odor of baking bread, and the "woman hurried off, exClaiming: "Jc3t wait a minute and I'll seud Tom's wife." In a minute, accordingly, there camc quietly along the passage a tall,-ladylike young woman, with a pretty child in her .arms." She was neatly and tastfully dressed, - ml <rlni/?lr m? nt: nnnp ns hpinrr of ATI order quite superior to that of her mother-in-law. Glancing at her from head to foot as she advanced, I fcsied her handsome, pleasant face and intelligent look, and in my own mind set down Tom as a fortunaate individual. I took down the address as she gave it to me and the next day was in Middleton, where I experienced no difficulty in finding Mrs. Dixon, though the finding of her relative, Hiss Einma Brookes, seemed nearly as remote as ever. Mrs. Dixon gave me an account of the .family,and described Mr. George Brookes as "a gentleman-born, and one of those clever men who could do everything except work and support his family." His wife had done the last,v atil,broken down in health, she died, and one daughter had married and gone to Nebraska, and the other, Emma, answered .an advertisement for ;i companion. She was a fine, self-reliant girl, Emma T7as, and Mrs. Royal had been very fond of her; and for her part she wasn't surprised to learn that the old lady had left ier a legacy, for she had surely deserved it by her kindness and attention. But where to find Emma she did not know, except that she was somewhere in New York, wherb her father always resided. He had been a daily newspaper reporter and in the habit of frequenting the public libraries, to soma of which ?h< lhad heard Emma remark, he wo* o sub-acriber Beyond this Mrs. Dixon could reallj give no infonnatron *, and with this si on der clue I urocceded to New York. My inquiry at thfc office of the newspaper met with no success. They remembered Mr. George E. Brookes, but knew nothing of his present place of abode, except that one of the staff of reporters was positive that he had removed to the country for the benefit of his health. This was discouraging, but I proceeded to inquire among the libraries and here was more successful. On the list of subscribers to the Mercantile, was the name, "George E. Brooks, No. 8 India street, Green Point, Long Island," with a date of some six months previous. In less than an hour I presented myself at the door of the designated house, which I found to be a plain, but respectable boarding-house kept by a widow by the name of Miles. My first inquiry was: "Docs Mr. George E. Brookes live here?" Mrs. Miles surveyed mc solemnly from above her spectacles, and replied slov/ly: "He did live here, young man." "Then he has removed?" "Yes, he has been removed to a better uvmv* 'Will you be kind enough, madam, to give me his present address?" She stared at me stonily, and apprehending that she had not understood my inquiry, I repeated it: "Where can I find Mr. Brookes at present?" "He is where I trust you will some day find him?in heaven!" With some difficulty I obtained from | her the information that her lodger had died some three weeks previous; that he had been kindly cared for by his daughter and a beneficial society of which he was a member; and that after the funeral the young lady had left the house, as she said, to return to the friends with whom she had lived before joining her father. She had mentioned the name of the town; but it had entirely escaped the landlady's memory in the trouble and worry of getting the two vacated rooms ready for new occupants. And thus again had Miss Emma Brookes, will-o'-the wisp-like,* escaped my grasp just as she appeared actually la my reach. After transacting some business, I next day took the cars for home, in the hope that Miss Brookes, ignorant of Mrs. Royal's death, might have returned to her house, and there learned of what so nearly interested her. On taking my seat in the car, the first person whom I recognized was the young lady whom I knew only as "Tom's wife," but this time unaccompanied by the baby. I saw that she recognized me; and some slight attention in regard to the window sash led us into conversation. She replied to my inquiry that Mrs. Dixon had not returned home when she left there on Tuesday, but she expected to find her arrived, her sister's children being now so much better. She said this so sweetly, and was such a pleasant, ladylike young woman, that I essayed to make myself agreeable by sapiently remarking upon the prevalence of measles and whcoping-cough, and hoping that her little one had escaped the epidemic. At this she gave me a quick, inquiring glance and blushed. "I mean the little fellow that you had in your arms when I saw you. I supposed it was yours, as the lady called you her son's wife." A swift, laughing glance lighted her face. "That was a mistake. Mrs. Landon's daughter-in-law had just stepped out and left the little boy with rac." It was now my turn to feel embarrassed, though this was almost swallowed up in an unaccountable sense of satis- i faction at finding that my companion was not "Tom's wife." i "Pray excusc my absurd, mistake!" i said. "It was only because Mrs. Landon told me that she would send her i son ? wife, and you came." She laughed, and we chatted on quite pleasantly, until at Greenville she left the cars. It was not strange that I should on the following day have suggested to Mr. Holden the advisability of my going to Greenville to inquire again of Mrs. Dixon in regard to Mi8s Brookes, of whom she might have received information since my first interview with her. It was little more than an hour's ride, and a pleasant excursion for a summer's evening. On ringing at the door of Mrs. Dixon's house it was, to my gratification, opened by my fair traveling companion of the day previous, and I was sure that she blushed at the?to her?unexpected meeting. Mrs. Dixon had not yet returned, she said, though they were expecting her by the next train, which would be due in fifteen minutes, if I did not object to waiting. Then she showed me into the parlor; and fearing that she was about to leave me there, I essayed to detain her by entering into a business talk. "My business with Mrs. Dixon is of rather a peculiar nature," I remarked. "She has a relative?a Miss Emma Brookes?whose whereabouts we are very anxious to discover." She looked up with an expression of surprise. "Emma Brookes?" she said, doubtfully. "Yes; -who lived for some years with Mrs. Royal. May I inquire whether you know the lady?" "I ought to know her," she replied, quite gravely. UI am Emma Brookes." She was not more surprised than myself. What a stupid idiot I had been! If I had only when I first saw her put the inquiry which I had just spoken, how easily the matter would have been settled! But instead I had been racing about the country in search of Emma Brookes, and even traveled in company with her, and never found means to ascertain her identity. I had to explain to her now about Mrs. Royal's death and bequest to herself. She had heard of her friend's death, she said, a day or two before that of her father, and in consequence, instead of returning to her former home, h;td gone to Mrs. Dixon's house, only to find that lady absent. There she had awaited her return, only running up once to New York on some business. Thus ended my amateur detective work. When I returned I informed Mr. Holden that I had at length found Miss Emma Brookes. He actually complimented me, and ; hinted at promotion to the sccond clerk's i desk. I returned to Greenville next day, and brought down Miss Brookes to our office, r and after that all was, as regarded my own . interests, pretty easy sailing. I had r difficulty in convincing my darling of my disinterestedness, for, as she has confessed since our marriage, she knew that I fell in love with her that day on the cars, before I had an idea that she was Miss Emma Brookes and Mrs. Royal's legatee.?Saturday Night. Homing Pigeons. A "homing club" is devoted to the rearing and training of carrier pigeons, which process is called "homing." In Turkey, where the art is supposed to be carried to its highest perfection, the procedure adopted is this: The person who has charge of rearing and training them takes the young pigeons when they have got their full strength of wing in a covered basket to a distance of about half a mile from their home; they are then set at liberty, and if any of them fail in returning home from this short distance, ^ i a they are considered stupid ana regaraea as valueless. Those that return home are then taken to greater distances, progressively increased to 1000 miles, and they will then return with certainty from the furthest parts of the country. In England it is customary to keer these birds in a dark place for six hours before they are to be used. They are then sparingly fed, but are given as much water as they care to drink. The paper on which the message is written should be carefully tied round the upper part of the bird's leg, but so as in no wise to impede its flight. In olden times the custom was to suspend the message from the wing or round the ncck. During the siege of Paris in 1870 carrier pigeons were employed to carry messages beyond the German lines; very long documents printed by micro-photography on films indestructible by water, and weighing only a few grains, were thus transmitted with great success. The ordinary rate of flight of the carrier pigeon is believed not to exceed thirty miles per hour, but instances are on record where ninety miles have been covered in that time. When thrown up the bird rises, and when it has reached a good flight will at first fly round and round,evidently for the purpose of finding some well known landmark, and then make off, continuing on the wing without stop or stay, unless prevented, till its home is reached. Thus pigeons, when loosed from a balloon at v great height, have, after flying round and round, returned to the balloon for want of objects to guide them in their homeward flight. ?New Orleans Times-Democrat. Indiana's Siamese Twins. One of the most wonderful freaks of at-?- L _ C nature ever Known in iiijs pare ui iu? country is now causing a good deal of talk in Kokomo and adjoining counties. Twelve miles southeast of Kokomo, Mrs. Henry Jones had born to her twins, inseparably connected at the hips and lower abdomen. The two trunks are joined together at the base, with a head at each end, and the lower limbs protrude from each side of the body, where the trunks are connected at the hip3. No vital organs are connected, except the spinal column, which is continuous from one end to the other. Each breathes andpulsates quite independent of the other, and both are perfectly formed and have free use of their limb3. Along the abdomen there is no line or mark to show where one begins and the other ends, except one umbilical cord, which served for both. The infants are very plump, well developed, and apparently as hearty | as any children of their ages. Botlmurse | from the mother and bottle with regular j movements. Both are females. Their joint weight is twelve pounds, and they measure,from crown to crown,twenty-four inches. The lower limbs are of normal size. They have bright, sparkling blue eyes, and are not in the least peevish, and when not nursing or asleep, content themselves sucking their thumbs. Thousands of people are flocking to see the infants, the medical fraternity being well represented. The mother is getting along nicely. The father is j twenty-four years of age, the mother but J eighteen, and the present is the second ; birth in the family. The mother is a j spare built woman, weighing but ninety pounds. All the physicians who have j made an examination express the belief that the children may live, and think the j indications entirely favorable.?Indian- I apolit Journal. Umbrellas With Glass Windows. There need be no further excuse for allowing your umbrella" to drip down the neck of your dearest friend in a rainstorm, or running amuck of the hurrying wayfarer coming from the opposite direction. The rainy day collision is one of the greatest profanity provokers of wet weather, and the Englishman who invented the glass window by which one's course in a storm may be sighted, deserves the thanks of Christian men throughout the world. This window consists of a small oval piece of glass with a brass or silver frame which is easily mounted in a rib of the umbrella, while it is fixed to the silk by sewiDgit through the little perforated holes in the frame. These windows can be placed in new or old umbrellas in a manner which will not injure the fabric in the least. As to whether the umbrella will roll up tightly has not, however, been made apparent. ? Clothier and Furnisher. The King of the Setlangs. 'The King of the Sedangs" is being made much of and makmg raucti ot mmself in Paris. His title is "Marie, Hoi des Sedangs." The Sedangs are an Indo-Chinese folk, who inhabit a kind of debatable land on the Annam-Siamese frontier, notable for nothing so much as its swamps. A speculative Frenchman, M. dc Mayrena, affirms that the tribesmen elected him their King, though it does not appear that they had any knowledge of such an office. As "Roi des Sedangs" he appeared in Hanoi and Hong Kong, with the object of trying to float a loan for the development of his territories. Colonial capitalists knew too much of Sedang. and so King Marie is attempting to work off his Sedang bonds in Paris. Anis Xake a Tcmperancc Driak. ' Did you know that ants would make lemonade?" said a Bridge street grocer to a Tribune man the other day. "Thej will, for I have seen them do it several times. The other day I left a slice oi lemon on the counter, and there happened to be some sugar not far off, and directlj I noticed the ants carrying the sugar tc the lemon juice. I thougnt it was rathei queer as well as cute, and, to test the matter, have tried it several times by putting a pisce of bmon on the counter and placing some sugar near by, and -the antj never fail to carry the sugar to the lemon, What do you think of that now I It if 1 an absolute fact."?Tampa TYibwu. ' . " ' " ' > ' ' ; r r KEY. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNI>AY SERMON. "How to Conquer."?(Prcachcd at Lake Maxinliuckeo, Intl.) Tbxt: "When shall I awake f I will seek it yet again."?Troy, xsiii., 35. With an insight into human nature such as no other man ever reached, Solomon, in my text, sketches the mental operations of one who, having stopped aside from the path of rectitude, desires to return. With a wish for something better, he said: "When shall I awake? When shall I como out of this horrid nightmare of iniguityf' But, seized upon by uneradicted habit, and forced down hill by his passions, he cries out: "I will seek it yet again. I will try it once more." ? -1 J .'il. -1 A uur UDraries are uuorneu wuu tui taugaui literature addressed to young men, pointing out to them all the dangers and perils of life ?complete maps of the voyaga showing all the rocks, the quicksands, the shoals. But suppose a man nas already mado shipwreck; suppose he is already off the track; suppose he has already gone astray. How is tb to get back? That is a field comparatively untouched. I propose to address myself to such. There are those in this audience who, with every passion of their agonized soul, are rcqdy to hear such a discussion. They compare themselves with what thoy w^re ten years ago, and cry out from the bondngo in which they aro incarcerated. Now, if thcro be any here, come with an earnest purpose, yet feeling they are beyond the pale of Christian sympathy, and that the sermon can hardly be expected to address thean, then, at this moment, I give thom my right hand, and call theiu brother. Look up. There is glorious and triumphant hope for you yet. I sound the trumpet of Gospel deliverance. Tho church is ready to spread a banquet at your return, and the hierorchs of heaven to fall into line of bannered procession at the news of your emancipation. So far as God may help me, I propose to show what are tho obstacles of your return, and then how you arc to surmount those obstacles. The first difficulty in tho way of your return is the force of moral gravitation. Just as there is a natural law which brings down to the earth anything you throw into tho air, so there is a corresponding moral gravitation. In other words, it is easier to go ' down than it is to go up; it is easier to do wrong than it is to do right. Call to mind the comrades of your boyhood days? some of them good, some of them bad? which most affected you? Call to mind tho anecdotes that you have heard in the last five or ten years?some of them are pure and some of them impure. Which the more easily sticks to your memory? During the years of your life you have formed certain courses of conduct?some of them good, some of them bad. To which style of habit did you tho more easily yield? Ah, my friends, wo have to take but a moment of self-inspection to find out that there is in all our souls a force of moral gravitation! But that gravitation may be resisted. Just as you may pick up from the earth something and hold it in your hand toward heaven, just so, by the power of God's grace, a soul fallen may be lifted toward peace, toward pardon, toward heaven. Force of moral gravitation in every one of us, but power in God's grace to overcome that forc9 of moral gravitation. The next thing in the way of your return is the power of evil habit. I know there are those who say it is very easy for them to give up evil habits. I do not believe them. Hero is a man given to intoxication. He knows it is disgracing his family, destroying his property, ruining him, body, mind and soul. If that man, being an intelligent man, and loving his family, could easily give up that habit, would he not do so? The fact tliat he does not give it up proves that it is hard to give it up. It is a very easy thing to sail down stream, the tide carrying you with great force; but suppose you turn the boat up stream, is it so easy then to row it? As long as we yield to the evil inclinations in our hearts, and our bad habits, we aro sailing down stream; but the moment wo try to turn, we put our boat in the rapids just above Niagara, and try to row up stream. Take a mau given to the habit of using tobacco, as most of you do, and let him resolve to stop, and he nnds it very difficult. Twenty-seven years ago I quit that habit, and I would as soon dare to put my right hand in the fire as onco to indulge in" it. Why? Because it was such a terrific struggle to get over it Now, let a man bo advised by his physician to give up tho uso of tobacco. Ho goes around not knowing what to do with himself. He cannot add up a line of figures. He cannot sleep nights. It soems as if the world had turned upside down. He feels his business going to ruin. Where ho was kind and obliging ho is scolding and fretful. The composure that characterized him has given way to a fretful restlessness, unti hft has become a eomnlete fidzet. What power is it that has rolled a wave of woe over the earth and shaken a portent in the heavens? He has tried to stop smoking or chewing! After a while he says, "I am goiug to do as I please. The doctor doesn't understand my case. I'm going back to my old habit." And he returns. Everything assumes its usual composure. His business seems to brighten, the world becomes an attractive place to live in. His children, seeing the difference, hail the return of their father's genial disposition. What wave of color has dashed blue into the sky, and greenness into the mountain foliage, and the glow of sapphire into the sunset? What enchantment nas lifted a world of beauty and joy on his soul? Ho has gone back to tobacco! Oh, the fact Is, as we all know in our own experience, that habit is a taskmaster; as long as we obey it, it dees not chastise us; but let us resist, and we find we are to bo lashed with scorpion whips and bound with ship cable, and thrown into ,the track of bone-broaking Juggernauts! Daring the war of 1812 there was a ship set on fire just above Niagara Falls, and then, cut loose from its moorings, it came on down through thenight and tossed over the falls. It was said to have been a scene brilliant beyond all description. Well, there aro thousands of men on fire of evil habit, coming down through this rapids and through the awful night of temptation toward the eternal plunge. Oh! how hard it is to arrest them. God only can arrest them. Suppose a man after Ave, or ten, or trwonty years of evil doing,resolves to do right? Why, all the forces of darkness are alliod against him. He cannot sleep nights. He gets down on his knees in the midnight and cries, "God help mo!" Ho bites his lip. Ho grinds his teeth. He clenches his fist in his determination to keep his purposo. He dare uot look at the bottles in tno window of a wino store. It was one long, bitter, exhaustive, hand to hand fight, with inflamed, tantalizing and merciless habit. When ho thinks ho is entirely free, the old inclinations pounce upon him like a pack of hounds with their muzzles tearing away at the flanlcs of one poor reindeer. In Paris there is a sculptured repre sentation of Bacchus, the god of revelry. Ho is riding on a panther at full leap. Oh, how suggesfcivo! Let every one who is speeding on bad ways understand he is not riding a docile and well-broken steed, but he is riding 1 monster, wild and bloodthirsty, going at a death leap. How many there are who resolve on a better life and say: "When shall I awake?" Bu;;, seized on by their old habits, cry: "I will try it once more; I will seek it yet again P1 Years ago there wero somo Princeton students who wero skating, and the ice was very thin, and somo one warned tho company back from tho air hole, and finally warned them entirely to leave the place. But one young man with bravado, after all the rest had stopped, cried out: "One round more!" He swept around and went down, and was brought out a corpse. My friends, there are thousands and tens of thousands of men losing their souls in that way. It is the one round more. I have also to say that if a man wants to return from evil practices, society repulses him. Desirinjj to reform, he says: "Now I will shake off my old associates, aud I will find Christian companionship." And he appears at the church door some Sabbath day, and tho usher greets him with a look, as much as to say: "Why, you hero? You are tho last man I ever expected to see at church! Come, take this seat right down by the door 1" Instead of saying: "Good morning; I am glad you aro hero. Come; I will give you a first rate seat, right up by the pulpit." Well, the prodigal, not yet discouraged, enters the prayer meeting, and some Christian man, with more zeal than common sense, says: "Glad to see you. The dying thief was saved, and I suppose there is mercy for you I" The young man, disgusted, chilled, throws himself back on his dignity, resolved he never will enter tho house of God acain. Perhaps not quite fully discouraged about reformation, he sides up by Bome highly respectable i sum he used to Know going down the street, and irmrodiatoly the respectable man has an ! errand down some other street 1 Well, the prodigal, wishing to return, takes some member of a Christian association by the hand, or tries to. The Christian young man looks at him, looks at the faded apparel and the marks of dissipation, and instead of giving him a warm grip of the hand offers him the tip end of the long fingers of the left hand, wfllch is equal to striking a man in the face. Oh, how few Christian people understand how much force and Gospel there 'is in a good, honest handshaking! Sometimes, when you have felt the need of encouragement, and some Christian man has taken you heartily by the hand, have you not felt that thrilling > through every fibre of your body, mind ana soul, an encouragement that was just what you needed? You do not know anything at all about this unless you know when a man tries to return from evil courses of conduct, he runs against repulsions innumerable. "We say of some man, ho lives a block or two from the church, or half a mile from the church. There are people in our crowded citieswho live a thousand miles from the church. Vast deserts of indifference between them and the house of God. The fact is, we must keep our respectability, though thousands and tons of thousands perish. Christ sat with publicans and sinners. But if there comes to the house of Goda man with marks of dissipation upon him, people throw up their hands in horror, as inucli as to say: "Isn't it shocking?" How these dainty, fastidious Christians in all our churches are going to get into heaven I don't know, unless they have an especial train of cars, cushioned and upholstered, each one a car to himself! They cannot go with the great herd of publicans and 6inners. Oh, ye, who curl your Ud of scorn at the fallen. I tell you plainly, if you had been surrounded by the same influences, instead of sitting to-d?vy amid the cultured and the refined and the Christian, you would have been a crouching wretch in stablo or ditch, covercd with filth and abomination! It is not becausc you are naturally any better, but because the mercy of God has protected you. Who are you, that brought up PkftofinTi nnn watehed bv Chris tian parentage, you should be so liard on tha fallen. I think men also are often hindered from return by the fact that churches are too anxious abtfut their membership and too anxiou3 about their denomination, and thoy rush out when they see a man about to give up his sin and return to God, and ask him how he is going to be baptized, whether by sprinkling or by immersion, and what land of a church he is going to join. Oh, my friends! It is a poor time to talk about Presbyterian catechisms, and Episcopal liturgies, and Methodist love-feasts, and baptisteries to a man that is coming out of the darkness of sin into the glorious light of the Gospel. Why, it reminds us of a man drowning in the sea, and a lifeboat puts out for him, and the man in the boat says to the man out of the boat: "Now, if I get you ashore, are you going to live in my street?" First get him ashore, and then talk about the non-essentials of religion. Who cares what church he joins, if ho only joins Christ and starts for heaven? Oh, you ought to have, my brother, an illumined face, and a hearty grip for every one that tries to turn from his evil way I Take hold of the same book with him, though his dissipations shake the book, remembering that he that convcrteth a sinner from the ewor of his ways shall save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins. Now, I have shown you these obstacles because I want von to understand I know all the difficulties in the way; but I am now to tell you how Hannibal may scale the Alps and how the shackles may be unriveted and how the paths of virtue forsaken may be regained. First of all, my brother, throw yourself on God. Go to Him, frankly and earnestly, and tell Him those habits you have, and ask Him, if there is any help in all the resources of omnipotent lovo, to give it to you. Do not go with a long rigmarole people call prayer, made up or "ons" and "ahs" and "forever and forever amens!" Go to God and cry for help! help! help! and if you cannot cry for help, just took and live. I remember in the war I was at Autietam, and I wont into the hospitals after the battle, and. I said to a man, "Where are you hart?" He made no answer, but held up his arm swollen and splintered. I saw where he was hurt. The simple fact is, when a man has a wounded soul, all he has to do is to hold it up before a sympathetic Lord and get it healed. It docs not take any Long prayer. Just hold up the wound. On, it is no small thing when a man is nervous and weak and exhausted, coming from his evil ways, to feel that God puts two omnipotent aims around about him and says: "Young man, I will stand by you! The a*- j _x j xt.. L.MU mountains may depart auu tuo uxua uo iumoved, but I will never fail you." And then, as the soul thinks the news is too good to be true, and cannot believe it, and looks up in God's face, God lifts His right hand and takes an oath, an affidavit, saying: "As I live, saith the Lord God, I have 110 pleasure in the death of him that dieth." Blessed be God for such a Gospel as this! "Cut the slices thin," said the wife to the husband, "or there will not be enough to go all around for the children; cut the slices thin." Blessed be God, there is a full loaf for every one that wants it; bread enough and to spare. No thin slices at the Lord's table. I remember when the Master Street hospital, in Philadelphia, was opened during the war, a telegram came saying: "There will be three hundred wounded men to-night; bo ready to take care of them;" and from my church tj&ore went in some twenty or thirty men and women to look after these poor wounded fellows. As they came, some from one part of the land, some from another, no one asked whether this man was from Oregon, or from Massachusetts, or from Minnesota, or from New York. There was a wounded soldier, and the only question was how to take off the rags most gently, and put on the bandage, and administer tne cordial. And when a soul comc3 ta God He does not ask where yon came from or what your ancestry was. Healing for all your wounds. Pardon for all your guilt. Comfort for all your troubles. Then, also, I counsel yon, if you want to get back, to quit all your bad associations. One unholy intimacy will fill your soul with moral distomper. In all the ages or tns ; church there has not been an instance where a man kept one ovil associate and was re- I formed. Among the fourteen hundred mill- J ion of the race not one instance. Go home to-day, open your desk, take out letter paper, stamp and envelope, and then write a letter something like this: "My old companions: I start this day for heaven. Until I am persuaded you will join me in this, farewell." Then sign your name, and send the letter with the first post. Give up your bad companions, or give up heaven. It is not ten bad companions that destroy a man, nor five bad companions, nor three bad companions, but one. What chance is there for that young man I saw along the street, four or five young men with bim, halting in front of a grog shop, urging him to go in, he resisting, violently resisting, until after a while they forced him to go in? It was a summer night and the door was left open, and I saw the process. They hold him fust, and they put the cup to his lips, and thoy forced down the strong driuk. "What chance ; is thore for such a young man? I counsel you also seek Christian advico. Every Christian mau is bound to help you. First of all. seek God; then s^ek Christian counsel. Gather up all the energies or body, i mind and soul, and appealing to God for success, declare this day everlasting war I against all drinking habits, all gambling ! practices, all houses of sin. Half-and-half j work will amount to nothing; it must be a Waterloo. Shrink back now and you are | lost. Push on and you are saved. A Spartan general fell at the very moment of victory, but he dipped his finger in his own | V ' ' 1 *- " ynn\r iinal' \vllir>h llO WBS I IJICKJU OUU WAUWVU rt uviw ? dying, "Sparta has conquered." Though your struggle to get rid of sin may seem to bo almost a death struggle, you can dip your fiugor in your own blood and write on the Rock of Ages, "Victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." Oh, what glorious news it would bo for somo of those young men to send home to their par en Is. Thoy go to the postoffico every day or two to sea whether there are any lotters froir you. How anxious they are to hear. Some ono said to a Grecian general: "What was the proudest moment in your life?" He thought a moment, and said: "The proudest moment of my life was when I ssnt word homo to my parents that I had gained the victory." And the proudest and most brilliant moment in your life will be the moment when you can send word to your parents that you have conauered your evil habits by the grace of God and become otornal victor. Oh, despise not parental anxiety! The time will come when you will have neither father j nor mother, and you will go around the place i where they used to watch you and find them j gone from the house, and gone from the field, | and gone from the neighborhood. Cry | as loua for forgiveness as you may over the j mound in the churchyard, they will not answer. Dead! Dead! And then you will take out the white lock of hair that was cut from your mother's brow just before they buried her, and you will take the cano with which your father used to walk, and you will think, and think, and wish that you hod done just as tbey wanted you to, and would give the world if you had never thrust a pang through thoir dear old hearts. God pity the poor young man who has brought disgrace on his father's name! God pity the young man who has broken his mother's heart! Better if he had never been born?better it, in the first hour of his life, instead of being laid against the warm bosom of maternal tcndorness, he had been coffined and sepulchered. There is no balm powerful enough to heal the heart of one who has brought parents to a sorrowful grave, and who warders about through the Hismnl cemetery, rending the hair, and wringing the hands, and crying: "Mother 1 . mother!" Oh, that to-day by all the memories of the past and by all the hopes of the future, you would yield your heart to God. May your father's God and your mother's God be your God forever! TEMPERANCE. TEMPERANCE SHALL WET. Must we call delay defeat, Shall our gallant band retreat, From a hard-won field? Never! for our cause is right; And though long the bitter fight, Wrong at last must yield. Slowly?as the tide come in? We are gaining?through the din Timid souls may shake; Far above the battle's roar Cries and groans rise evermore? "Help! for love's dear sake." Pause?to clear the smoke-dimmed eyes; Pause?then as the arrow flies, Swiftly charge the foe, i Push the war for hearth and homo; Make no compromise with rum; Forward! forward, go. ?Harriet N. Swantcivk, in the Voice. ITS DESTRUCTION INEVITABLE. The saloon seems to have tightened its grip on some communities of late, but this fact should cause no despair, nor even discouragement. The saloon is such an indescribable breeder of sin and sorrow that advancing civilization will just as certainly destroy it as spring sunshine melts ice. It is an intolerable nuisance, and must disappear. Despair on this subject implies belief in the persistent existence of the worst institution in the <rivi!ized world.?Western Christiar. Advocate. THE TABLES TURNED. A wealthy man was in want of a male servant and heard of a Chinaman who was said to possess many desirable qualities. The Celestial was sent for accordingly. "You smoke?" askted the gentleman. "No, me no smokee!" "You drink?" "No, me no dlinkee!" "You gamble?" "No, me no gamblee!" ' Then you're just the man I want," was the | prompt answer. A few nights later the master of the house gave an elegant supper for a party of gentlemen. Wine flowed in rivers, betting ran high at cards, and cigar smoke as den& as a London fog shrouded eveiything in the rooms. The Chinaman made the supper table a marvel of beauty, and waited to a charm. When the next morning came, however, the gentleman found no preparation for breakfast. "Drunk, the scoundrel, Tve no doubt!" he said as he steered his way out to the rear quarters, expecting to encounter the prostrate bodv of the Chinaman. No, there in the kitchen sat the Celestial sober as a judge. , "Why haven't you got breakfast?" "Me no stayee here!" was the answer. "Don't I pay you high wages enough?" "Yessee; but you askee me I smokee? and I say I no smokee; I dlinkee? and I say I no dlinkee; I gamblee? and I say I no gamblee; and you smokee, dlinkee and gamblee, all tree. I no stayee here!''?Boston Herald. TO THE AMERICAN CLERGY: , There is an increasing and successful determination to extend the saloon power in this country. Saloons are multiplying, notwithstanding the public indignation which at times burets into flame. The saloons in America are responsible for Eighty per cent, of crime and of all public expenses resulting. Ninety per cent, of pauperism and of all public expenses resulting. Fifty per cent, of insanity and of all public nxpenses resulting. Thirty-five per cent, of idiocy and of all public expanses resulting. These estimates are not guess work, but are based upon the testimony of such men as , Judge Noah Davis ana Doctor Willard j Parker. , At a low estimate $730,000,000 are spent annually in the 200,000 saloons of America, as may be easily computed, averaging only $10 a day as the receipts for each saloon for 365 days per year. Not less than $400,000,000 of this amount are spent bv workingmen, according to estimates of Powderly and other labor leaders. The misery and depravity that are resulting from this immense waste "are simply incalculable. As Canon Farrar said in reference to the saloon evil in 1 England: ' 'It has come to this, England must in this matter mend her Trays: she must get rid of ; this curse and crime, or she must ultimately perish." No one will accuse Canon Farrar of fanaticism. What he says of England willapply, with scarcely any abatement of force, to America. Said the New York Tribune some time ago, with courage all too rare in its columns, j and in the columns of other secular papers: "This traffic lies at the center of all politi- ' cal and social mischief, it paralyzes energies in every direction, it neutralizes educational j agencies, it silences the voice of religion, it baffles penal reform, it obstructs political re- . form." What can be done? Will the churches of this nation be silent in the presence of such an appalling and growing evil? How can the churches arouse the sleeping conscience of the public to energetic, aggressive, decisive ( action? Once aroused, public sentiment will , prove omnipotent. By persistent and j judicious efforts on the part of the churches ( it can be aroused.?The voice. i TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. The criminal statistics of prohibition Iowa j for 18S7 report just one vagrant.' Six prohibition tents, well equipped with able speakers, are sturdily marching over ! , the prairies of South Dakota, making many i , converts to the cause. Sam Jones says that Georgia has already i 117 counties redeemed from whisky, that \ onIv twenty are left where it is still tolerated, | and that during the next twelve months they i propose to put Tegs under the demijohns and i run them out of theso counties also. ! j Before the bar of an enlightened conscience I - ^ ? ' -r n-.l Trill | I 8.HQ lfl6 H'lUUQUi U1 WUIL, everi j uiuoi out ??*?* pale into insignificance bssido the awful 1 crime of forcing upon the helpless child a marred and tainted inheritance of blood and j brain and nerve, mortgaging the future for the base, ignoble indulgence of the present. Racine (Wis.) saloons were closed by law I on the 8th of July. Anticipating this, Milwaukee breweries got up a free steamboat excursion to the "city of beer," conditioning ' the free ride upon the purchase of fifty cents' worth of beer tickets good in any Milwaukee I saloon. Another illustration of what saloonI ists will do to destroy their fellow men. The "Hundred Dollar Band" is a new in- . vention for raising money for the temperance | temple, to be erected in Chicago. It is to consist of a thousand white ribboners who pledge to give $100 each to the building fund within two years. Many ladies have aiready ."joincd this band. A similar hundred dollar band, to be composed of a thousand men, has also been started. A monster petition in favor of Sunday closing of saloons was received at the House of Commons recently from the Salvation Army. The roll, signed by 436,500 persons, , was borne through the streets of London to j the House, drawn by four horses, and pre- 1 ceded by a band in the army uniform. The j united efforts of six men were required to carry the roll into the cloak-room, i "So ccrtain are the criminal effects of the licensed drinks of the saloon and bar-room that a chemist in analyzing them should not be sin-prised to detect crime in a crystalline | I rorm, existing as an original element in their P composition; while it would not require the mieroscope to discover the monad cells of every sin incident to fallen man in the foam ; of the beer mug or ?he dreg3 of the wino cup." So says Hon. A. B. Richmond in tha Chautauguan. ' ' 1 ' " ' ' '! ' "- i \" ; - *- - +y j -''ttdnk \ RELIGIOUS READING, j SEED TIME. We are sowing, ever sowing, Something good or something iH In the lives of those around us? We are planting what we will. Not a word we say falls fruitless, Not a deed we do decays; Every thought and word and action Will be found in future days. When perhaps the hand that sowed them Shall itself have ceased 'o be, Still the record of their being Will live on eternally. Grant then Lord of all tijo harvest, That the seed* we dailf sow May refresh the hearts of other*, Spreading blessings as they grow. May each thought and word and actios Ba the growth of Christian love, To be found in coming ages In the garner-house above 1 Treasured there, in Thine own keeping^ Just to prove our love was true; For the motive gives the value To the meanest thing wo do. ?Charlotte Murray. , CHRIST-POSSESSED. "Can you tell me," asked a clerical friend of mine of a candidate for missionary work, "what justiflcatio is?" Tdo man gars ta the Question a satisfactory reply. "And what," pursued my friend, "is sanctification?" "Sanctification," said the candidate the fire kindling in his look as he spoke, "sanctification is a God-poss:ssed soul, or." No truer answer c-iuld ba given. It is one thing to possess Christ?it is a very different thing to be posses ed by Christ. In the one case we have life, but in the other we have life triumphant. If God i? in possession, Satan is cast out, for "what concord hath Christ with Belial, and what agreement hath the temple of God wiih idols?" (3 Cor., 6-10.) ' It is to ba feared that of this most blessed and high privilege or God-possession, many Christians know comnarat.vely little; yet it is the one secret, botn of holiness and of safety, for where God is not, there sin and Satan are, just as where lijht is not, there darkness inevitably is. Amid the ten thousand snares that beset our path heavenward there is absolutely no security except to obey our Lord's own words: "Abide in ma, and I in you," to bo. as some one has put it at mca "Christ-inclosed ani Christ-indwelt." ?The Rev. K IT. Moore. A Christian should always be in a praying frame. "How much time shall I spend in my devotions?" is sometimes asked. The Psalmist said, "Evening and morningand at noon will I prar and crv aloud, and He shall hear my voice." Daniel, when in great dan* ger, "kneeled upon his knees three time? a day and prayed, and gave thanks before his God." Are not these good examples to follow? Instead of going before their Maker thrice a day, now many professed followers ot Christ scarcely spen i a quarter of an hour in the twenty-four in secret devotion. Can such persons grow in graco??and are they prepared to go out into the world, to resist temptation and to set a worthy example before their neizlibors and friends? Are they ' ready to do ur.to others as they would have others do unto them? Are they prepared to resist temptatbn??to return good for evil? ?to suffer rather than to bring reproach upon the cau? of Christ? Of course, it is not convenient for many to retire at noon to seek an interview with their Saviour, but cannot :hsy lift up their hearts in secret, for a few moments, at their places of business, ia walking to and fro from their meals, or.even . when engaged in their regular employments? If the heart is ri<?ht there will bo no trouble; opportunities.will bo presented through the day, when tfe Christiin will fl'id time to . converse with his Maker. Who will ever regret, when life close^ the time spent in ' 1 prayer ana cuvcnonr?itenynma /zcrtuu. , i ? Liyji'G TIIS CHRIST LIFX What is yciir idea of Christianity? If you are mistakenon that p >int, every thing else wil- b3 wrori;. If a man thinks that Christianity cons? a in feeling happy, he will bo wholly at tie mercy of circumstances. If his liver is sbund, and he is comfortable m himself, he Till think that all is right bocause he feefe happy; but if he has neuralgia he will ftel unhappy, and will Imagine the devil hat got hold of him, and that he is a lost man. f The man who judges of his Christianity by hi3 feelings, builds on th* shifting sant There is nothing that will help us but Mils one point?that Jesus Christ has called t^d made me a Christian that He may live in'me His life over again. It is not * by telievinr this t<>ing or that thing that I can get to leaven, but by Jesus Christ living and dwelling in me. He wants me to live His lif - in fie office, in the workshop, behind the countei, for when people see a Christian living a Cifrist-like life, they will believe in Christianity. There is only one work on the evidences (t Christianity worth having?a. work I haire met with here and there. It is rather scarce but thank God some new editions are foming our. It is bound in cloth? from five to six feet of humanity living a Christ-lik^ life. It is no use arguing with people roprove the existence of a Creator only. Dflwnright out-and-out goodness and simple evpry day Christlikeness can win the victory! Are veil going to be witnessas for Christ, or whiM your fellows 1 ok upon you as Christian, are you going to be angry, and mean, did harsh? If so, pe pie will shrug their shdilders and shake their heads, ana say: ''An. there's your Cnristianityv If relighn poes n'it govern your temper and cure yoiT meanness what's the good of it? See! hre is a man who is brought before a judgehnder suspicious circumstances, and wnethej1 he is acquitted or not depends apoa my eviqenco. I am called as a witness, I ant asked v<hat I know. I bungle in my speech, and anicareless. I put in what I ought t* have la t out, and leave unsaid what I ought to hav?said. The judge shakes bis head? counsel?for prosecution rubs his hands and sits dovn smiling. The counsel for the deforce ljoks aghast, the jury whisper togethsr, an j my p >or friends turn pleadingly to me, as/if to say: "Is that the best you cam io forme?-' So Jesus Christ, whom we love, ttands in us at the bar of public opinion, and whether He shall be excepted [>r rejected depends upon our evidence every lay, 2nd hour by hour. Wilyou not then give yourselves right jp tJ Jesus Christ, and quietly, earnestly ind r solutely live His life? Kneel down ia Sis presence and say, "Lo d. I can think )f ut- greater ambition than tj make the ivorlJ think well of Thee. I don't want to je gilat, but I want so to live that men canlot 1 ilp believing in Thee." Ho doesn't van! splendid gifts or sparkling genius, but sarnpt, thorough, out-and-out men in whom 3e cjii live Hi;; life ov< r again. What beter tl ing canst thou do tl.au give thyself vhoFy to Him? Tit.t alone is Christ's idea of Christianity -ml 1 and women given up to Him. that thef may be filled with His power. Now, whf; are you going to do:' I donfwantyou to*it>train and agony upon yourself, ta mal} great resolutions and splendid promise! -they are just blown away by a puff of wi? 1; but I do want you to soy, "Lord, I i'myself to Thee; Thou sbalt live Thy over again in m?- I hold myself as Thy Rev. Mark Guy Pearce. taking revenge, a man is but his enei equal; in passing it by, he is his suW. > is doubly a conqueror who, when a ueror, can conquer himself. Moderaand mercy shed over the laurels of tha ucror the luslro of true glory. IT PRODUCES DEATH. - 1 9 lowest estimate that I have seen of the jer of deaths caused by the liquor traffic, ally, in this country, says a writer in roice, is 60,000. This makes 164 every; ty-four hours, and seven every hour, of-; to the god of avarice. A grand total; the close of the American Civil War in of 1,440,000. I know of no heathen naihat sacrifices anything like the number man victims to their heathen gods that Fer in this "land of the free ana home of lae brave" to the gods of avarice. Gamirinus and Bacchus, and the suffering of the 'ictims thus offered is tenfold greater than JhoE9 offered by the heathen. O shame, ?rhere is thy blush! Would it not be wefl for heathen nations to send missionaries to this country?