Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

-. REV. DR. TALMAGE. J ! VUG BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNI DAT SERMON. Subject: "The Saving Look." 0 Text; unfa .Tesnix "--Hebrew! In the Christian life we mast not go slipJ shod. This world was not made for us to rest B in. In time of war yon will find around tb? streets of some city* far from the scene o! | conflict, men in soldiers' uniform, who have ft a right to be away. They obtained a furHi lough and they are "honestly and righteously W- off duty; but I have to tell you that in this k Christian conflict, between the first moment when we enlist under the banner of Christ, and the last moment in which we shout the Victory, there never will be a single instant in which we wilJ have a right to be off duty. Paul throws all around this Christian lire the excitements of the old Roman and Grecian games?those games that sent a man on a race, with such a stretch of nerve and muscle, that somet'mes when I ' lie came up to the goal, he dropped down exhausted. Indeed, history tells that there were cases where men camo up _^?uid only had strength just to grasp the ^Koal and then fall dead. Now, says this ^Hjspostle, making allusion to those very games, , Hire are all to run the race, not to crawl it, EHiot to walk it?but '-run the race set before ^Mus, looking unto Jesus," and just as in the mf olden times, a man would stand at the end f at the road with a beautiful garland that was * to be put around the head or brow of the I successful racer, so the Lord Jesus Christ I etands at the end of the Christian racc with L ihe garland of eternal life, and may God fmnt that by His holy spirit we may so rim 9 as to obtain. i jg The distinguished Wellwton, the chemist, was asked where his laboratory was, and the E inquirers expected to be shown some largo W apartment filled with very expensive apparai tus; but Welliston ordered nis servant to I bring on a tray a few glasses and a retort, I and he said to the inquirers: ' 'That is all my K laboratory. I make all my experiments with I those." Now, I know that there are a great I foVoo tpIiaIa HKw?rtjfn ornpocc t.lioil* j theology. They have so many theories on ten l_ thi^osand things; but I have to say that all Ahj theology is compassed in these three words : lafljLooking unto Jesus," and when we can jflHRderstand the height and the depth and the ^?length and the breadth and the infinity and the immensity of that passage we can understand all. I remark in the first place, we must look to Christ as our personal Saviour. Now, you know as well as I, that man is only a blasted ruin of what he once was. There is not so much difference between a vessel coming out of Liverpool harbor, with pennants flying and the deck crowded with good cheer, and the guns booming, and that same vessel driving against Long Island coast, the drowning passengers ground to pieces amid the timbers of the broken up steamer, as there i? between man as he came from the hands of God, equipped for a grand and glorious voyage*, but afterward, through ? the pilotage of the devil, tossed and driven and crushed, the coast of the near future strewn with the fragments of an awful and | eternal shipwreck. Our body is wrong. How easily It is ransacked of disease. Our mind is wrong. How hard it is to remember, and how easily to forget. The whole nature disordered, from the crown of tho head to the tole of the foot?wounds, bruises, putrefying fores. "All have sinned and come snort of tho glory of God." "By one man sin entered \ into the world and death by sin, | and so death has passed upon all i men for that all have sinned." There is in Brazil a plant they call the "murderer," for the simple reason that it is so poisonous it kills almost everything it touches. It begins j to wind around "tho root of the tree, and coming up to the branches reaches out to the ends of the branches, killing the tree as it goes along, w nen it uas comu 10 iuo wu euu of the branch the tree is dead. Its seed fall : to the ground and start other plants just as murderous. - And so it is -with sin. It is a poisonous plant that was planted in our soul a long while ago, and it comes winding about the body and the mind and the soul, poisoning, poisoning, poisoning?killing, killing, kiL'ing as it goes. Now, there would be no need of mjy discoursing upon this if there were no lEM&y of plucking out that plant. It is a most inconsiderate thine; for me to eoinc to a man W who is iu financial trouble and enlarge upon ' Jys trouble if I hare no alleviation to offer. ? *?n.s an unfair thing for mo to come to a man who is sick and enlarge upon his diseaso if I have no remedy to offer. But I have a right to come to a man in financial distress or physical distress if I have financial re-enforcement to offer or a sure cure to propose. Blessed be God that among tho mountains of our sin there rolls and reverbrates a song of salvation. Louder than alf the voices of bondage is tho trumpet of God's deliverance, soundiug. "Oh, Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself, but in Me is thy help." At the haired gates of our dungeon, the conqueror knocks and the hinges creak and grind at ! _ the swinging open. The famine struck pick I * mnona folio in tlu? wtlrlcfnocc I up IUO 1L1UUUU bltav ^UJIO *u I.uv ixtuvj Uvuw and the floods clap their hands, saying: 'Drink, oh thirsty soul, and live forever," aud tho feet that were torn aud 4eep exit on tho rocky bridle path of sin now come into a smooth place, and the dry alders cracklo as the panting hart breaks through to the water brooks, and tho dark night of the soul begins to grow gray with tho morning, yea to iiurple, yea *o flame, from horizon to lorizon. Tho batteries of temptation silcnced. Troubles that fought against us captured and made to fight on our side. Not as a result of any toii or trouDie on our part, but only as a result of "Looking unto Jesus." "But what do you mean by 'Looking unto Jesus? " some one inquires. I mean faith. "What do you mean by faith?" I mean believing. "What do you mean by * believing?" I mean this: If you promise to <io a certain thing for me, and I have confidence in your veracity?if you say you will give me such a thing and I need it very much, I come in confidence that you are an honest man and will do what you say. Now, the Lord Jesus Christ says: "You are in need of pardon and life and heaven, you can have them if you come ana gee tnem." Too say: "I can't come and ask first. I jam afraid You won't give it to me." *Tnen you are unbelieving. But you say: "I i will come and ask. I know. Lord Jesus, j Thou art in earnest about this matter. I J come asking for pardon. Thou hast promised to give it to me, Thou wilt give it to me, Thou hast given it to me." That is faith. Do you see it yet? "Oh," savs some one, "I c^p't understand it." No man ever did, ^ j^out divine h?Jp. Faith is the gift of say: "That throws the responsibility off ray bhoulders." No. Faith is the gift of God, but it comes in answer to prayer. All orcr glorious Is my Lord He must bo loved ana yet adored; His worth If all the nations knew. Sure the whole earth would lore Him, too. I remark again, that we must look to Jesus an example. Now, a mere copyist, you know, is always a failure. If a painter go to a portfolio or a gallery of art, however exquisite. to get his idea of the natural world from .these pictures, he will not succeed as well as the artist who starts out and dashes the dew from tho grass and sees the morning just as God built it in the clouds, or poured it upon the mountain, or kindled it upon tho sea. People wondered why Turner, the famous English painter, succeeded so well in sketching a storm upon the | ocean. It remained a wonder until it | was found out that sevenC times he had been 1 -it .J /vf A 121511OU. iAJ 111*3 UtXA. lit. IUO uiiuau vi c* ivm^gov nnd then looked out upon the wrath of the sea, and coming home to his studio, he pictured the tempest. It is not the copyist who succeeds, but the man who confronts the natural world. So if a man in literary composition resolves that he will imitate the smoothness of Addison, or the rugged rigor of Carlyle, or the weiredness of bpenser, or the epigramatic style of Ralph Waldo Emerson, he vO not succced as well as that man who cultures his own natural style. What is true in this ?spect is truo in respect to character. Thcro were men who were fascinated with Lord Byron. He was lame and wore a very large" collar. Then there were tens of thousands of men who resolved that they Would be just like Lord Byron, and they limped and wore large collars, but they did ml have any of his genius. You cannot suc" ~ <3ssfully copy a man whether he is bad or good. You may take the very best man that over lived and try and live like him, and you win make a failure. There never was a better man than Edward Payson. Many have read his biography, not understanding that he was a sick man, and they thought they were growing in grace because they were growing like him in depression of spirit. There were men to copy Cowper, the poet, a glorious man, but sometimes afflicted with melancholy almost to insanity. The copyists got Cowper's faults but none ol his virtues. There never was but one Being fit to copy. A few centuries ago Ho came out through humble surrouudings,and with a gait and mauuer and behavior different from anything the world had seen. Among all classes of people He was a perfect model. Among fishermen, He showea how fishermen should act. Among taxgatherere, He showed how taxgathererj should act. Among lawyers, He showed how lawyers should act. Among farmers He showed how farmers should act. Among rulers, Ho showed how rulers should act. Clitics tried to fiud in His conversation or sermons something unwise or unkind or inacculate: but they never found it. They watched Him, oh how they watched Him! He never went into a nouse nut they knew it, and they knew how long He stayed, and when He came out, and whether He had wine for dinner. Slander twisted her whips and wagged her poisoned tongue and set her traps; but could not catch j Him. Little children rushed out to get from Him a kiss,' and old men tottered out to the street corner to see Him pass. Do you want an illustration of devotion, behold Him whole nights in prayer. Do you j want an example of suffering, see His path : across Palestine tracked with blood. Do you \ want an example of patience, see Him abused i and never giving ono sharp retort. Do you ! want an examplo of industry, see Him with- j out ono idle moment. Do you want a speci- > men of sacrifice, look at His life of self de- j nial, His death of ignominy, His sepulcher of | humiliation. Oh what an examplo! His feet wounded, yet He submitted to the journey. His back lacerated, and yet He carried the cross. Struck, Ho uover struck back again. I Condemned, yet he rose higher than j His calumniators, and with wounds ! in His hand and wounds in His feet and wounds on His brow and wounds in His side, He ejaculated: "Father forgive them, they know not what they do." Ah, my brethren, that is the pole by which to set your compass, that is the headland by which to steer, that is the light by which to kindle your lamps, that is the example that wo ought all to follow. How it would smooth j out the roughness in our disposition, and the \ world would be impressed by the trans- j | formation and would say: "I know what is , the matter with that man, he has been with j Jesus and has learned of Him." Alexander was going along with his army I in Persia and the sdow and ice were so great j that the army halted and said: "We can't i march any further." Then Alexander dis- ! mounted from his horse, took a pickax, went I 1 ahead of his army and struck into the ice i and show. The soldiers said: "If he can do ; that we caii do it," and they took their picks ana soon tne way was cleared and the army | marched on. So our Lord dismounted from His glory, and through all icy obstacles hews a path for Himself and a path for us, saying: "Follow Me! I do not ask you to go through 1 any suffering, or fight any battles where I 1 ao not jeaa tne way: r onow- me r Again I remark, that we are to look to I Christ as a sympathizer. Is there anybody J in the house to-day who does not waut sympathy? I do not know how anj' one can live ! without sympathy. There are those, how- i ever, who have gone through very rough [ paths in life who had no divine arm to lean I on. How they got along I do not exactly j know. Their fortunes took wings in some | unfortunate investment and flew away. The i bank failed and they buttoned up a penniless j pocket. Ruthless speculators carried off tho j fragments of an estate they were twentyfive years in getting with hard work. I How "did they stand it without Christ? Death came into the nursery and there was > an empty crib. One voice less in the house hold. Oue fountain less of joy and laughter. ) Two hands less, busy all day long in sport. I Two feet less to go bounding and romping ! through the hall. Trroeyes less to beam with j love and gladness. Through all that house ' Rhfldow after shadow. shadow after sVia^nw until it was midnight. How did they get through it? I do n.ot know. They trudged ; the great Sahara with no water in tho goat j skins. They plunged to their chin in the i slough of aespona and had no one to lift them. In an unseaworthy craft they put out into a black Euroclydon. My brother, my sister, there is a balm that cures the worst wound. There is a light that will kindle up the worst darkness. There is a harbor from the roughest ocean. You need and may have the Saviour's sympathy. You cannot get on this way. I see your trouble is wearing you out body and mind and soul. I come on no fool's errand to-day. I come with a balm that can heal any wound. Are you sick? Jesus was SICK, -fit.ro you weary.' tiesus wus \> l-ui y. ) Aro you persecuted? Jesus was persecuted. ; i Are you bereaved? Did not Jesus weep over B Lazarus? Oh, yes, like a roo on the mountains of Bether J esus comes bounding to your soul to-day. There is not one passage of Scripture, every word of which is a heart j throb: "Come unto Me, all ye who aro weary and heavy laden, and I will give you 1 rest." Then there is another passage just as < good: "Cast thy burden on tho Lord and \ He will sustain thee." Oh, there are greei: : pastures where the heavenly shepherd leads I the wounded and sick of the flock. | The Son of God stands by tho tomb of Laza- j rns and will gloriously break it open at tho j ; right time, Genesaret cannot toss its waves ; so high that Christ cannot walk them. The j erase of oil will multiply into an illimitablo supply. After the orchard seems to have been robbed of all its fruit, the Lord has one tree left, full of golden and ripe supply. The , requiem may wad with gloom and with death;; but there cometh after a whiio a song, a 1 chant, an anthem, a battle march, a jubilee. ' a coronation. Oh, do you not feel the breath 1 of Christ's sympathy now, you wounded ones, you troubled ones? If you do not, 11 would like to tell you of the chaplain in the ' armv who was wounded so he could not walk, but he heard at a distanco among tho dying a man who said: "Oh, my God!-' He said to niiuseii: "*x muse nejp that man tnough ? j can't walk." So ho rolled over and rolled through his [ own blood and rolled ou over many of the ~1 *tfV\AKA luff T\AA1? fflllntU ! bill 111, UUUi lie tttuic nnviu v?*? pvut avuvk was suffering and he preached to him the I comfort of the Gospel, and with his own j wound he scem^ to soothe that man's ' wound. It was sympathy going out to- j ward an object most necessitous, and | one that he could easily understand. And | so it is with Christ, tnough wounded all I over Himself, He hears the cry of our ! repentance, tho cry of our bereav- ! menfc, tho cry of our poverty, the cry of our j wretchedness, and He says: "I must go and j help that soul," and He rolls over with wounds in head, wounds in hands, wounds in ; feet, toward us, until Ho comes just where we I are weltering in our own blood, and He puts j His arm over us?aud I see it is a wounded i arm, and it is a wounded hand?and j as He throws His arm over U3 I hear Him i say: "I havo loved thee with an everlast- i ine love." Again, we must look to Christ as our final rescue. We cannot with these eyes, however | good our eight may bo, catch a glimpse of the heavenly land for which our souls long, j But I have no more doubt that beyond the j cold river there is a place of glory and of rest, than we have that across the Atlantic ! Or?m there is another continent. But the | heavenly land and this land stand in mighty j contrast. This is barrenness and that ver- j dure. These shallow streams of earth which , a thirsty ox might driuk dry, or a mule's hoof trample into mire, compared with tho i bright, crystalline river from under the ! throne, on the Danxs of wtrtch river the ar- j mies of heaven may rest, and into whose clear ; flood the trees of life dip their branches. These instruments of earthly music, so | easily racked into discord, compared with the j harps that thrill with eternal raptures, and : the trumpets that are so musical that they j wake the dead. Theso streets along which j wo go panting in summer heat or shivering [ in winter's cold, and the poor man carries his ( burden and the vagrant asks for alms, and j along which shuffle the feet of pain and want ! and woe, compared with those streets that ; sound forever with the feet of joy an ""holi- ] aoss, and those walls made out of all manner , of precious stones, the light intershot with re- j flections from jasper and chrysolite and I topaz and sardonyx and beryl and emerald j j aud ehrysoprasus. Oh, the contrast between this world, where j we struggle with temptation that will not be couquered, and that world where it is per- j feet joy, porfect holiness ami perfect rest! ; Said a little blind child: "Mamma, will I be blind in heaven?" "Oh, no, my dear," replied the mother, "you won't be bhnd in heaven." A little lame child said: "Mamma, will I be lamo in heaven?' "No," she replied, "you won't be lame i in heaven." Why, when the plainest Christian pilgrim arrives at the heavenly gate it opens to him, and as the an eels come down to escort him in, and they spread the banquet, and they keep festival over the august arrival, ana Jesus comes with a crown and says: "Wear this," and with a palm and says: "Wave this/' and points to a throne and says: "Mount thia" Tbtn the old citizens at heaven come around to bear the aewoomer'i recital of de&vflraace wrought for him, and as the newly arrived soul tells of the gracc that pardoned and the mercy that saved him, all the inhabitants shout the praise of the King, crying: "Praise Him I Praise Ilim!" Quaint John Buuya'n caught a glimpse of that consummation when he said: "Just as the gates were opened to let in the man, I looked in after them, and behold the city shone like the sun; the streets wero also paved with gold and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads, and golden harps to sing praises withai. And after that they shut up the gates, which when I had seen I wished myself among them." DR. TALMAGE'S APPEAL FOR AID. On the morning of the day on which tha foregoing sermon was to have been delivered hv Dr. Talma-re, his church, the Brooklyn Tabernacle, was completely destroyed by fire. Dr. Talmago has issued the following appeal for aid to all his friends throughout Christendom: To the People: By a sudden calamity we are without a church. The building associated with so much that is dear to us is in ashes. In belialf of mv stricken conzrezation I mako an peal for help, as our church has never confined its work to this locality. Our church has never been sufficient either in size or appointments for tho people who como. Wo want to build something worthy of our city and worthy of the cause of God. We want $100,000, which, added to the insurance, will build what is needed. I make appeal to all our friends throughout Christendom, to all ^nominations, to all creeds and those of no creed at all, to come to our assistance. I ask all readers of my sermons in the world over to contribute as far as their means will allow. What we do as a Church depends upon the immediate response made to this call. I was on the ove of my departure for a brief visit to the Holy Land, that I might be bettor prepared for my work here, but that visit must be postponed. I cannot leave until something is done to decide our future. May the God who has our destiny as individuals and churches in His hand appear for our deliverance. Response to this appeal to the people may be sent to me. "Brooklyn, N. Y." and I will, with my own hands.acknowledge the receipt thereof. T. Dk Witt Talma.uk. WORDS OF WISDOM. ? , Fear naturally quickens the flight ol guilt. Knowledge is more than equivalent to force. What cannot be required is not to be regretted. Though matrimony may have some pains, celibacy has few pleasures. marriage u leuou vyucic tuc rometimes better than the dinner. The happiness of love is in action; its test is what one i3 willing to do for Dthers. If we will stand boggling at imaginary evils, let us never blame a horse for starting at a shadow. The heart is like the tree that gives balm for the wounds of man only when , the iron has pierced it. By indulging this fretful temper you ilienate those on whose affection much }f your comfort depends. Success soon palls. ' The joyous time s when the breeze first strikes your sails, md the waters rustle under your bows. All of us who are worth anything ;pend our manhood in unlearning the "ollies or expiating the mistakes of out .Touth. There is a great many duties, and we lave to balance their claims as best we i ;an. It will not do always to choose >ur favorites. I would rather have trusted the refinenent of our language, as to sound, to he judgment of the women than to halffitted poets. Civility, intended to make us easy, i mployed in laying chains and fetter; ipon us, in debarring us of our wishes, ind in crossing our most reasonable deires. The independence of character, founded upon an honest conviction, will not be disturbed at the envious spirit of contempt by which some people betray their own conceit. Of all the passions, jealousy is thai which exacts the hardest service^ and pays the bitterest wages. Its service is to watch the success of our enemy; its wage3 to be sure of it. No More Pennsylvania Dutch. In twenty-five or thirty years, if not before, the Pennsylvania Dutch dialed will be to all intents and purposes a dead language. There have been very great changcs during the last ten or fifteen years and the rapidity with which they arc taking placo is being accelerated everv vear. This is noticeable in the churches, in the newspapers, ia the language of business, in intercourse with the people and in the increased facility with which one who does not understand the dialect can make himself understood wherever he goes. "When the Presbyterian Church was founded in Reading about half a century ago, it was done chiefly because there were a few people who wanted to have English preaching and the only way to have it was to found a new church. Now there are only three or four out of forty churches where the services are conducted in the German language. A score of years ago there was a serious split in the Trinity Lutheran Church, the largest in the city, because some of the members wanted one service cach week in English. Now and for a long time past all the services in that church have been in English. In the country all the young people who come up for ''confirmation" have been taught the catechism in Jinglisn, ana wnerc iiiey nave nui already been granted it they arc clamor- J ing for English services in the churches, and all the old style preachers who have been accustomc-d to delivering German sermons all of their lives find that they must begin to yield a little to the new demands or sacrifice their usefulness and popularity. Every parent who is ambitious for his children desires that they shall learn to speak English, every young man and woman feels that to do so is a much desired accomplishment, and there are few of the younger generation who arc not able to understand and carry on conversation in the language of the country, though in their homes and in theii ordinary business they may use the Pennsylvania Dutch. In Reading the language of the street, of the store and of all public places is English, and Pennsylvania Dutch is seldom heard except in some of the outer wards. It is still, of course, desirable that a clerk or a conductor of a great retail store should be able to talk Pennsylvania Dutch, but it is no longer absolutely necessary, and it is becoming less so every year. Out in the boroughs and larger villages more and more English is being constantly heard, the English newspaper is everywhere seen, and in every possible direction the old language is losing its hold and English is being substituted.?New York Sun. Mme. Maukiewiz, a Vienna lady, has I invented a new gobelin tapestry which is \ partly painting and partly needlework/ HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. GENUINE GEORGIA BISCUITS. The Southern biscuit i? u rather thin cake baked like New England soda biscuit, but much thinner, and made usually of buttermilk and soda, rather than sweet milk. This gives a crisp, flaky cake. Mix through a quart of flour, an even half teaspoonful of soda, sift it through several times, add a teaspoonful of butter and one of lard, rubbing them through the flour repeatedly. Stir a scant pint of buttermilk through the flour and beat the mass together very rapidly. Roll it out on a floured board and dredge, then roll out half an inch thick and cut with a small cutter. Bake in a very quick oven fifteen or twenty minutes. This is a biscuit that appears on the table I of many Georgia families day after day as a regular breakfast dish. It is especially delicious made by practised hands.?Neva York Tribune. SUGGESTIONS ABOUT OIL LAMPS. The oil reservoir should be of metal, rather than of china or glass. "Wicks should be soft, not too tightly plaited. "Wicks should be dried at the fire before being put into the lamps, and should be only just long enough to reach the bottom of the oil reservoir. They should be so wide that they quite fill the wick-holder without having to be squeezed into it, and should be soaked with oil before being lit. The reservoir should be quite filled with oil every time before using the lamp. The lamp should be thoroughly clean, all oil should be carefully wiped off, and all charred wick and dirt removed before lighting. WTien the lamp is lit the wick should be at first turned down, and then slowly raised. Lamps which have no extinguishing apparatus should be put out as follows: The wick should be turned down until there is only a small flickering flame, and a sharp puff of breath should then be sent across the top of the chimney, but not down it. IRONING BOARD AND NAPKIN HOLDER. Is your ironing board fixed so it is a r\rt onrl nn frnilKlp tfl yicaouiv; ?uu ~ keep clean? The following is a good plan: Take a long, wide board (a narrow one i3 a nuisance), tapering at the lefthand end; cover it with in a foot of each end, thickly and smoothly on both sides, with a woolen blanket; do not make a seam on the flat side, but with carpet tacks fasten the blanket on the narrow edge. Next cover tightly with a sheet doubled, keeping both sides of your board perfectly smooth. Now you are ready for the outside. Take stout muslin, and make a cover the same as you would for a bolster case, open at both end, make it to slip on tight. This is easily removed and laundried, and your board is always neat and clean. Iron calicoes on one side,white clothes on the other side. You will find this a great improvement on the old plan of ironing all on one side, and having the colored b'nt coming off on the starched white clothes. A convenience is a basket to gather up the small articles that are so useful on the table, but yet require so many steps between pantry and table. Take a small, long basket (grape basket), stain with | walnut staining, line with red silesia or turkey red calico, tie ribbon bows at the sides of the handle and it is completed. All the salts, napkins, doylies, etc., put in this, can be removed at once, and are ready the next time they are wanted, and the dainty touches are a delight instead of a weariness to the flesh.?American Cultivator. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. If ribbons need renewing, wash them in cool soap suds, cover with a clean cloth and iron when damp. A disk or wafer of sealing wax placed in the bottom of a glass bowl will give crushed ice a pretty, delusive glow. The bread of the hour is called cresseny. It sell at fifty cents a pound, and is served with the soup and cheese courses. A small piccc of paper or linen moistened with turpentine, and put into the wardrobe or drawers for a single day or two or three times a year, is a preventive against moths. m_ _-i. j.i!?j.~ --i? "lo set uuuuuie cuiurs iu cmuiuiuciuu handkerchiefs, soak them ten minutes previous to washing in a pail of tepid water, in which a dessertspoonful of turpentine has been well stirred. Hard-boiled eggs served in a hot gravy or vinegar is a recent gastronomic introduction of some of the fashionable clubs ia London. The dish is said to have had its origin in India. The yellow room has had its day, the blue room is passe and the crimson and gold apartment too emphatic to be testhetic. Now it is white for brides, debutantes and young mothers. An exceueat way 01 cuuttmy cjjys j? to break them in boiling milk -without beating; cook slowly, stirring now and then. When done soft pour into a dish and add a little pepper, salt and butter. When you boil a cabbage tie a bit of dry bread in a bag and put it in the kettle. French cooks say that all the unpleasant odor which makes a house smell like an old drain will be absorbed by the bread. Do not scrape the inside of frying pans, as after this operation any preparation fried is liable to catch or burn to the pan. If the pan is black inside, rub it with a hard crust of bread and wash in hot water mixed with a little soda. Unsightly fire places may be converted into spicy, woody, sylvian nooks by a rustic arrangement of balsam, palm, bitter-sweet and mistletoo branches. The greens are piled up ou the hearthstone unless they can be interlaced about the fender and apron. Many people iron towels and put them away before they are dry. This is an error, and sometimes leads to results not expected. In this damp condition there is a mold which forms on them called oidium, one variety of which causes numerous skin diseases. It is quite essential to have your table linen laundered with the manufacturer's finish, otherwise known as the damask finish. Only the French laundres? understands the trick. From her hand old napcry is given such a beautiful finish that you can't tell it from the new loom. When your table-cloths are worn out beyond mending, cut square pieces from the best parts of them and hem neatly. They will make nice napkins for holding the children's lunches, or for the little cne3 to use at the tabic, for if they are stained or lost your set will not be broken. To remove mildew and iron rust? Spread the garment stained on the grass in the hottest sun and s,quw?;e Qrer the X >_v * *' -' * ' V spots lemon juice, sprinkling it thickly with salt. This will draw out the heavy iron-rust stains if the sun is hot enough. Renew the process if it is not successful the first time. Every mother knows how difficult it is to clean the baby's finger-nails. By folding some tissue paper into a sharp point, and when using it calling the attention of the baby to something else, this simple task can be easily performed. The paper is so soft that it does not hurt the tender flesh, yet it is sufficiently firm to remove every particle of dirt. A Natural Inebriate Asylum. Cured of intemperance in three days! TT ?? lm/\rrr fVlO fltalft IIUW UiilLlJ JVilWTT LUUU I<UW uw.ww of Georgia owns a natural inebriate asylum? And, nevertheless, such is the fact. "It is the most wonderful spring in the United States," said Special Officer Broderick, of the Atlanta police force. "To what spriug do you refer?" "Indian Spring. I have taken three ineii to that spring -who were so far gone on the liquor habit that it looked as if it was impossible for them to quit, and every one of them were cured immediately. One of them had been practically drunk for four months. I took along a supply of whisky, as people said that it would kill him to quit off too suddenly." "Did he taper off?" "He took one drink after he got to Indian Spring, and after that he declined to touch a drop. He said he did not want it at all. He remained there three days and you never saw such a transformation. He was as sober as a judge, his face was cleared of its bloat and the red liquor look, and he was himself again. Since that time he has been at work steadily and has not touched a drop. That -was six months ago, long enough to effectually settle the matter." "Does it prove equally efficacious on others?" "I have tried three cases, and with the same happy results in every case. I believe that that little spring, which does not hold over a gallon of water, is one of the most valuable in the country, and worth all the hospitals in the land for the cure of inebriates." 4 'Why don't somebody ship the water?" 4'In the first place, the spring belongs to the State of Georgia, and is just as the Indiana left it, long ago. The State Government has never permitted anybody to lease it, or to attempt to enlarge the flow. The water is free for everybody. In the second place, there is a volatile gas in the water that escapes after a few hours, rendering it flat, and robbing the water of its extraordinary qualities. For these reasons no attempt has ever been made to export it, and people are compelled to go to the spot to enjoy its benefits. It is a wonderful spring in many other respects, but it is the king of all liquor habit cures that I have ever seen."?Atlanta Constitution. The Wonderful Flying Squirrel. Among the small animals which are quite a rare sight to city folks, and even dwellers in the towns, is the cunning little flying squirrel. This is really a wonderful crcature, and seems to be a sort Df compromise between a bird and an animal T>. is nhnnt five inches loner as to its body, which is black and gray and white beneath, and carries a bushy tail ' quite five inches in length, having a pe- ^ culiar construction which assists it in its flight from tree to tree, but the main apparatus used in flying, or in reality leaping, is a loose membrane connected to the front and hind legs on each side, which the squirrel has the power to expand at will, thus increasing the surface presented against the air. When they desire to go from one tree to another they first ascend to the topmost branch, and boldly leap off into space. Then it is that their kite-like appendages make themselves useful. They spread out and the little animal, guiding itsell by the tail, takes a downward, circular flight toward another tree. When it arrives within six or eight feet of its intended landing place it changes its position so as to light upon its feet against the tree, when the membranes become greatly reduced and are not at all in the way.' They live in decayed' trees, where, if not disturbed, they become quite numerous. They are difficult to catch, and bite viciously when captured, but they are easily domesticated and make admirable pets, and soon become an unfailing source of amusement to the children. They live upon nuts, acorns, insects,and I are said to eat small birds. Every evening a family of three or four of these interesting surviving denizens of our suburban woods, who make their home in a giant oak, sail across the street, one after the other, to a tree at the residence of the writer, where they scamper about the limbs searching for their favorite food. It seems from their actions that they are nocturnal in their habits and pass the day snugly curled up in their home in the old oak, which probably accounts for their survival long after the dainty gray and fox squirrels have disappeared.?St.Louis Globe-Demoj crat. How Stars are Fhotograpnea. The method jf photographing stais is interesting, the Chicago Herald says. When the photographer places in the focus of the telescope a highly sensitive photographic plate the vibrations of tho rays; of light throw themselves assiduously on the plate and steadily apply to the task of shaking asunder the molecules of silver salts in the gelatine film. Just as the waves of ocean by incessantly beating against a shore will gradually wear uway the mightiest cliff or the toughest rock, so the innumerable millions of waves of light persistently impinging upon a single point of the plate will at length cffcct the necessary decomposition, and so engrave the image of the star. It would be obvious that this process will be the more complete the longer the exposure Is perrnUfml anfl thus we sec one of the reasons why photography forms such an admirable method of depicting the stars. Wc cm give exposures of many minutes or of one, two, three or four hours, and all the time the effect is being gradually accumulated. Hence it is that a star which is altogether too feeble to producc j an impression upon the most acute eye, i fortified by a telescope of the utmost power, may yet be competent, when a sufficient exposure has been allowed, to leave its record on the plate. Thus it is that photographs of the heavens disclose to us the existence of stars which could never have been detected except for this cumulative method of observation that photography is competent to give. No telescope is required, as the photoghaphic , apparatus takes the exact impression, Valparaiso is to have a dry dock iu? Solving an outlay of $4,00(^0$), RELIGIOUS HEADING. WHAT IS HE WORTH ? You say the man ' is worth a million," And think you've answered me; I care not if he own a billion, 'Tis the man I want to see! And now I'll as'c a question or two? This man?w at? be worth? Is it ca-h that cami from the Lord knows who. And broad, square mi!o> of earth? Dare you assert, in broad daylight, That this is the worth of a man? It takes indeed a sordid wigut With favor this to scau. Tho treasures of the braiu and heart, The mi id and body's health, And what turns men to th better part? These constitute true wealth. If your friend bas only what you said, He is worth just nothing at all; Let his acres of earth cover him, dead, And buy him a funeral pailt ?Detroit Free Press. POWER OF EXAMPLE. A gentleman onco said to his pastor, "How can I b.st train up my boy in the way he should go?" "By going that way yourself, " replied tin minister. This recalls the story tola by Dr. Thompson, author of "The Land and the Book." He had climbed nearly to the top of tf.e mountain, lifting his fo >t carefully over the projecting rocks, when faintly from below he heard a silvery voice call out, "Take the safe path, father, I am coming after you." The boy was planting his feet in the footsteps of his lather. If the father was on the safe road, the son would be; on the other hand, if the fathor had stepped on a crumbling precipice, and gone down to a destructive gulf below, the son would have followed him to the some place of ruin. When lathers take the storm-swept road of intemperance, the boys are apt to follow in the same blood-stained footsteps. If the motuer be wordly, fond of glittering style, loving the eachanting hull of the intoxicating dance, her daughters will follow and be willing imitators. When men climb the lowering Alps they tie themselves together, and if the leader stumbles and fal s, they are all liable 10 go to the bottom. So families irn iir.fl toroUiar. SAND-IIEAPS FOR POOR CHILDREN. The Ma.'sachus9tts Emergency and Hygiene Association provided aaven sand-heap In Ttnetnri fnr rvmr nhildren fast stimm r, at a cost of $1 for each of the four hundred little ones entertains I for eight weeks. In Berlin the government provides heaps of clean sea-sand in the parks and tquares, in which the German children {'lav, under the general care of the police. n Boston the ladies started the movement, the school-committee gave the us9 of the school-yardf, the public contributed the money, and poor but reliable motherly women were emp'oved four days in the week to matronize the little folks. It was a pretty sight to see these poor children, doomed to spend the summer in town, playing with shovels and pails in the sand, whose fa cination was unending. Others were playiug horse with worst a reins, or to. sing bean-bass, skipping rope, and playing ball. If a different set haa come every duy, it is calculated that the matrons would have entertained almost 130,000 children. Now and then a basket of flowers would be c -ntribute l, so that each child went home with a nosegay. This season it is hoped the contributions will be sufflc ently generous to establish twenty sand-gardens, and extend the benefits.?Worcester Spy. men* TOWARDS G01>. Whoever would become rich towards God must also g.ve away bountifully. This la one of the Christian paradoxes. He that h ards for self, loses; he that loses for Christ's sake, is sure to save. Godlovetha cheerful giver. This law of giving and getting back must not be limited to the I urse or check-book. I often wish that I were the po sessor of the wealth of a Lenox or a Dodge, a Slater or a Cooper, provided that I 1 ad also the big-hearted benevolence that those princely men were enriched with. But a rich soul does not require a large bank account; it gives as the sun gives; out of its own stores of golded radiance. Rich soul- are not assessed in the tax collector's oflfflfe. If you want to be rich in heavenly wealth, practice giving and give without stint. Out of a d vont heart give your prayers. The influence and inheritance cf a mother's prayers-outweigh the millions of a Vanderbilt* The richest people in my church and the best dividend payer-! to the Lord are those who pray the most fervently nnd shed out the purest example. Learn, b o, how to contribute your personal labor. Some people fnoli.?hly try to compound with God by faying their money, instoad of giving their own presence in a prayer-meeting, and their personal work in misMori schools, temporance reform, or other lives of godly activity. This is self-robbery. Give yourself, nnd Christ will, in turn, give you Himself. Th'-n will you be one of God's millionaires. Oh, for a holy coveteusness! Determine, my friend, to prow rich, exceeding rich in faith, rich in good works, rich in reverence of joy and in the love of Jesus. Then, no matter on what street ycu live, or in what style,* your heart will be filled with all pleasaut and precious riehes. You will be heir to maenificent po.'sessions up yonder. Heaven will t e neither poor-house nor hospital.? Dr. Cuyleria uChristian at Work." SALVATION BY CHRIST. Oh, no man who has ever held the Cross, and found in it the refuge that he sought, can ever preach it down. If you are not a cinnpr von can do without the Cro S. But, as for mo. when you have read out the roll of sunken ones, from Cain to B -.rabbas, and from Baral'bas to the last waif who has drifted from the dock to the gallows, I write up n that list of fallen angels, in the crimson egoism of my shame, "of which I am chief." Of all the wrecks which strew the sea since Ad mi struck upon the rocks, my barque is sorest torn. Such as have weathered ev^ry storm, such as have shot proudly past, the tarihe-^t bubble of CharybdH and grace fully rounded ?he jutting spurs of Scylla'a crag, may talk of salvation by character; but I, gone by fne board, battered by tempest of my own passion, bulwarks all splintered, sails rent, all lost, and nothing but my naked soul to savo. I need a Saviour stronger than myself. "When the drowning knits his raft of surf-washed spars to ether, anil waits upon the surging acres of the sea for coming death, his last biscuit swallowed, his last drop of water drained away, he plants as his ensign of despair a sorry mast on his wet deck, and floats a signal of distress upon the breeze. Often no eyes but those of birds of prey behold it as they wait for death to offer them their moal. But iu tho fluttering rag there is one strand of hope, and rescue sometimes comes. S , Lamb of Calvary, I rear my fluttering 1 ki??i, onnrtil T wril-n nnn word, and I tig Ui Uiuim a|/yuui, j. ? VMV 1 on? alone, upon it. Not "character," but ''mercy!" And wiih my last ,lpeccavi" on my lips, my blood-hot eye descries a sail upon the sea. It glides out of the sunlight of the ea t, aiid no dove-wings were ever silvered with so soft a light. It bears down upon me, and outruns the stride of stalking Death. A cross is at the prow, golden with glory, and yet red with love. A pilot leans over the bulwarks, and as He wraps Hla hands around me, I can see a wound upon His palm; and I feel the hold is strong because the love is infinite- It isH e who takes mo into port. By His grace only am I saved He takes his wanderer home.? "To that dear hom?, safe in his wounded side, Where only broken heirts their sin and shame may hi-^e." "By grace ye are saved; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God."?Rev. ,-t^thw Muraell. Nathaniel. J. Howard, a retired capitalist of San Francisco, was an Original "Forty-niner." Ho says: "I was in 'Frisco when there were 45,001 men and not a single family. Judge Terry, who was shot down while attaoking Justice Field, made a lot ol trouble in those days, aud I was a member of the vigUanoe committee that kept him seven weeks in its rooms while awaiting the result of the shotwounds Tony gave Hopkins. Had Hopkins died?and he wa9 mighty close to death?Terry would have bo^Sl lynched. He richly de-mved it," \ TEMPERANCE. . THE REASON WHY. There was an old woman, and what do to# think!" She iiad bread to eat, and milk to drink, Clothes and home, and best of diet, Yet she was sad, and couldn't be quiet. She was sad in her heart over very bad laws, And she worked night and day in the Temperance cause. "If they wouldn't make whisky and sell it," said she, liNot a beggar or drunkard abroad would I see." ?Mrs. J. McNair Wright* AN EXCELLENT TEMPERANCE tfTORY. Temperance! It is a good thing. And I can give an excellent temperance story without adding a particle of action to the facte, says a New York correspondent of the Cincinnati Enquirer. As I was walking with one of the house^surgeons_through the aloo nunc wara oi ?Jeiievue Hospital the oth?r day I saw a face that was familiar to me. The owner was a young woman who had been brought in several days before, suffering from the ailment that afflicted all the occupants of the alcoholic ward. She lay in a cot, looking quite peaceful, her eyes closed, the wbite coverlid drawn close up undSr her chin. Save for a great pallor and a certain old, faded look that came not of years but of reckless living, the face would nave been pretty, as it lay framed in the spotless pillow, : motionless hs a picture. The patient was ! asleep, and with every minute that she slumj bered was putting the fever and the frenzy , further away. She had slept nninterrnpted! ly for seven hours, the nurse said- and it was believed that when she awoke she would be hungry and far along on the road to recovery. I cast about in my inind to think where I had seen the face, and at length I remembered. Four years ago lost winter I lived on East Eighteenth street, near Second avenue, and it was my habit to go of an evening to Schmenger's beer saloon, on Third avenue, to pass a social hour over a glass of the Munich Royal brew and a cigar. Schmenger's was a family resort and a very quiet and respectable place. Among the many groups that used to establish themselves there with more or less regularity was one consisting of an elderly woman, a young man and a girl. I took them to be Germans. The woman and the young man were unmistakably that, but of the girl I was in doubt. My curiosity was not very great, and it was only after observing thom for several months that I acci dentally learned something about them. One rainy Marcu afternoon I was throwing dice with John Meyer, the bartender, when tVi a fwin noma ir* Tlia t?l IaaImv? irnw rvMli.W V* VUUIO Ul. A UW gut JWOSU TV* J pvvvil The wind and rain had had their way with her face, and it was rosy with blushes. I should say that she was about twenty years of age. She bad a' superb figure and black hair and eyes. It was hard for me to keep her eyes off her and to follow the dice, upon the turn .of which the best cigars in the house depended. John's attention was also frequently diverted by the three, though not in the same way. They kept him measurably busy supplying them with what they wanted to drink. It occurred to me after a while that they were drinking a good deal. I said as much to John, but he only shrugged his shoulders and said that they were used to it. When they first came in they had a pony of brandy all round to take off the chill of the weather. It was not quite sufficient, and ;hey had another, and then a third. From ;he brandy they turned to beer, choosing the neavy Bavarian variety, and they drank six glasses each of it before going home to supper. As they passed out, John, who was smoking a Reina that I paid for, told me that the young man was a musician in Damrosch's Orchestra at the Metropolitan Opera House, that the elderly woman was bis mother, and that the girl was his wife. They had been coming to Schmenger's for a year, John said, and what they had drunk that afternoon was nothing unusual for them. He bad served the rosy cheeked girl with twenty glasses of heavy beer in the course of an evening of five hours. Shortly after that I removed from my Eighteenth street lodgings, and changed circumstances interrupted my habit of going a T rlirl nnf. 6AA tit A irirl until I saw her intho hospital. I felt an interest in the case. The patient had been brought to Bellevue, suffering from acute alcoholic mania, 'by two officers of Captain Clinchy's police, which patrols the district in which Schmenger's is situated. I called at the station in Twenty-second street and asked Detective Carey what ho knew about the girl. "The police knowledge of her," said Carey, is concerned with a single fact; she is a drunkard. She is a widow and lives with her mother-iu-law in Nineteenth street. Her husband, who was a skilled musician, died of alcoholism a year ago. The mother-in-law is a tough old knot of a German.. She kept a boarding house here on the East Side for tweuty years and saved enough to make her comfortable for life. She is as jjood a drinker as her son was or as her daughter-in-law is but she stands it bet ter. She is sixty years old at the least and well and hearty. Si* o'clock every morning finds her out marketing. She was always a thrifty soul. When her son was alive they used to do their drinking in saloons and he paid for iv, but since he died she and her daughter-in-law have followed the kettle and bottle plan, which is cheap3i\ The girl, who is a native New Yorker and a very pretty one, stood her excesses very well until a few months ago, when she went to pieces all of a sudden. I suppose our men have carried her home twenty tunes since last May-found her drunk in the streets. She was always stupidly drunk, fetching up on doorsteps in a state of quiet collapse, until the last time when her complaint took a violent turn. About 8 o'clock one evening she went flying along under the electric lights in Third avenue, crying and cursing and swear ing andstniung peopiewitn uer umureiunigu? and left. "When Roundsman Hagan brought her tc-a man who is the idol of the unengaged women of this neighborhood?she drew her nails across his face and called him the Whitcchapel murderer. She won't last much longer, isnpposo she will come out of this, but the marks are on her. Six months ago she was plump as a partridge; now she's lean as a hound. I am an observer and when the flesh drops off at that rate under habits like hers, I know what's coming. If Christmas find* her with us I'll give you a new hat." HfiAauaS KUR BKCOMI.VG A TOTAL ABSTAINER. About ten years ago or more, says Canon Farrar, I first became a total abstainer, because I was easily convinced that the use of alcohol was not a necessity, and a great deal turns upon that. I saw, for instance, that whole nations had not only lived without it, but had flourished without it. I believe that the human race had existed and had flourished a considerable time before it was JI T naur fl?o 'Am o rlroKla frt/if fKaf UI5UUY W CU. A o?TT U1U IUlllUiUUl/lV AMVV VUWV there were some twenty thousand persons in England, and that though many of them had made themselves mere funnels for drink; though they had been accustomed to drink from their childhood; though most of them had been brought to prison, either directly or indirectly, through drink, yet the very day that they entered the gates of a prison, all drink was entirely taken from them, and yet there was not a single instance on record in which any one of them had suffered in consequence. On the contrary, men who have entered prisons sickly and blighted have been made compulsorily sober by act of Parliament, and after a few months, left prison h?I? and strong and hearty; and women who had been put into prison perfectly horrible and hideous in their loathsomeness and degradation, after a short period of deprivation from the source of their ruin, left prison with the bloom of health and almost or beautT. A Cl'RE FOR ALCOHOLISM.) One who has had much experk iice in ro formatory institutions for drur tarda haj lately given his testimony as to tlie curabii ity of the habit. He stoutly insists that al coholism is not a disease, ana that it is possible for every man, no matter how long hi has been a drunkard, to recover from th( habit. Reformation requires a cultivation of the moral sense, a strengthening of the will, a cutting off of all evil associations and all bad habits, and total abstinence from fiha use of liquor. It will never (to for a drunkard who is trying to reform to stop short ci absolute denial of alcohol; it is simply a delusion for one like him to think he can limit himsett to moderation. It is the opinion of the Gxj?ert in question that the most marked results of inebriety are not physical, but mental and moral. They do not produce disease to.the_e*t?ut rr?" ?ny believed. When New Mexico comes into the Union we shall have a State th& majority of whose inhabitants speak Spanish. The predominant language In the courts, schools an<J newspaper* ' U Spanish. Thw is a qneer country,