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NOT YET. The child who plays amid tho ncddii^H grass? 1 The wild-flov.er's home, the butterfly's dear haun t? Hears in the softly-scented winds that pass Echoes of voices far and sad which chant, "Not yet.'' The youth who pores o'er many a ponderous book Til] daylight sparkles in the distant sky. Dreaming of fame with fond, enraptured look, Hears in their footsteps as the years ! pass by, "Not yet." The old man, whom kind death, with gentle Beckons to sleep, looks back o'er all his years, Gathers their few poor sheaves, and humbly stands For the portal waiting still he hears, "Not yet." ?Margaret Thomas, in Youth's Companion. ACROSS THE HALL. It was a double house, with a hall and tlairway exactly in the centre, and rooms upon cither side. Mrs. Samson, when the rented it, enthusiastically declared it roust have been built for a boardinghouse, so admirably did it suit that purpose, although the millionaire who did build it would have groaned in horror at such a suggestion. But a boarding-house it was, and a well-conducted, comfortable one, when I, Harry Bell, engaged a room on the third floor, and brought my belongings there. Now I was fully aware that the crerac de la crerne of Mrs. Samson's boarders did not reside above the second floor, and only what she called ;'clerks, you know, and people who canuot pay a large board," dwelt upon the third and fourth floors. So I let her think what she pleased about my income, acceded to her demand for a "week always in advance," and said I was a medical student, although I had graduated three years before. "Did you get in, old fellow?" Steve Harlan asked me, the next time we met. "I did." "Next room?" "Engaged! Mine is across the hall." "Well? Who is she?" "Companion to an ancient party on the next floor below. Maid has a room next the mistress. Companion mounts another flight of stairs. And we sit opposite each other at the table. The ancient party glares at me as if I owed her something. Perhaps she thinks I want to feel her pulse. She is a corpulent individual,red in the face( and eats like a rhinoceros. The companion looks prettier than ever beside her?" "Got any names?" "Yes. Ancient party is Mrs. Carter. Companion is Elsie Lennox." Then Steve whistled with s? much significance that I cried, with conviction: "You know her?" "I should rather think I did! Her father failed, for goodness knows how much, two years ago, and like Lewis Carrol's baker, he 'softly and suddenly vanished away' from his creditors, leaving Elsie with her aunt. Mrs. Carter is a distant relative?cousin, or something. Why, three years ago Elsie Lennox was the belle of the season." . j ?I did "ot I was glad or sorry to this. I had seen EUie Lennox in the street, had seen her enter Mrs. Samson's several times, and her exquisite face and graceful figure had won bo much warm admiration that I longed to know her, to speak to her. hoping, perhaps, to win from her some answering interest and liking. And so I applied for board at Mrs. Samson's; and having seen Elsie's face at a third story window, obtaiued possession of the corresponding window on the other side of the hall. It was not difficult to strike up an acquaintance, but very difficult, I found it, j to gain more than a scant courtesy from Miss Lennox. The ancient party, Mrs. Carter, evidently allowed no "followers," | for she most decidedly snubbed me whenever I tried to make myself agreeable. And how I did try! I offered her the iico nf oil mu niimnrnns mnor?7:inpS nnlv to be informed that she subscribed herself for everything worth readiug. I brought flowers to her, and saw them fade in the hall, because she thought the scent unhealthy in a room. I offered to attend to any business she might have down town, and was informed that her agent and her maid attended to her affairs. And at about this stage of the proceedings I b.*camc uncomfortably aware that Mi*s Lennox was laughing at me. ? I dropped Mrs. Carter then, and directed my attentions to Miss Lennox; but it was certainly the most up-hill courting ever attempted. Miss Lennox was cold vr~, i, i:? ao ik.V} auu vaitui gavu iici uut ui* tie leisure time, so that meeting in the public parlor was simply a vexation. I tried other tactics. I waited in my own room until my neighbor across the hall went down to dinner, and then stepping over, left, just inside her door, such offerings as flowers, fruits or books. I wrote tender verses and slipped them under her door; and once?only once? I took my violin wheu she was singing m her room to her own piano accompaniment, and followed the air in my tenderest strains. The emphatic bang with which the piano was closed effectually prevented any repetition of that effort. I had begun to despair, when fortune favored me. I had been reading uutil a late hour, and had fallen asleep in a softly-cushioned chair, when a quick rap on my door awakecied me, and 3Irs. Samson's voice asked: "Are you awake?" I opened the door at once. "I saw your light was burning," Mrs. Samson said. '-You told me vou were studying medtcinc. Do corac to Mrs. Garter and see if you cau do anything for her before her own physician comes. I have sent for him, but it is a long distance to go." Just one glance at the sufferer told me she could not wait for aid from a '-long distance." She lay in an apopletic tit that threatened instant death. I went to work at once, opened a vein in the throat, applied the usual remedies, and had the satisfaction of bringing her back from the very confines of the grave, before her own doctor arrived. All through the quick, active treatment, I had accepted almost mechanically the help of Elsie Lennox's ready hands, giving my orders rather sharply in the stress of danger, and thinking nothing of the girl I had learned to love, until, the dinger over, the case taken in hand by Mrs. Carter's physician, I became conscious of a deadly white face and shaking hands beside me. Esaid, mixing a stimuto her lips. iliar with sickucss," Elsie said, presently, in a tone of apology. "I thought she was dying." "She was dangerously near it," I said, "and you had the right to be alarmed, even if you were familiar with sickness. But the danger is over now." "It was well you were so near," Dr. Hall said, joining us. "Bless me, it is Ilarry Bell!" I had already recognized one of the professors of the university where I had taken my diploma, and we shook hands cordially. A little professional chat fol^ 1 1 ? T ir\ flirt r\ rvrvv I IQWl'U, il!? 1 uatuiitu mm iv , and on returning to Mrs. Carter's room I | undertook to be ready to respond to any : further call upon my services during the night. I)r. Hall must have spoken in.mv favor to Mrs. Carter, for the barriers between us were suddenly thrown down, and I found myself admitted to a friendship I j had quite dispaired of gaining. Every thing favored me, and in the intimacy that followed my whole heart passed into Elsie's keeping. She filled my ideal of womanly sweetness, bearing the caprices and bad temper of her cousin with a gentie patience that had not one atom of ! servility iu it: showing in her quiet couj versation a cultivated, intellectual and I refined taste: using her accomplishments ! to amuse Mrs. Carter, never for display | of her own power. Toward me she was ! always courteous, pleasant, even friendly I mnpo \r<?vor cf>nin<T hr?r flloilfi. 1 | iW ?U^4V. " j, 7 could not plead ray love, and I feared to | startle her by writing, having no thread I of encouragement to build a hope upon. | Three happy months, happy in spite ! of mv doubts and fears, passed away, ! and then I was hastily summoned away j to the death bed of a near relative. After ! a week's absence I returned to Mr. SamI sou's to find Mrs. Carter alone and mysI teriously reticent about her cousin's ab:sencc. | It is not a pleasant recollection to me, i the months that followed. In answer to j a plain question. Mrs. Carter flatly refused to tell me where Elsie had gone, and I fully, miserably realized that my whole life's happiness had been bound up in the hope of winuing her. I traveled about, always returning to Mrs. Samson's in the vain hope that Elsie might have I come there also. I was not fond of my j profession, which I had studied to please j my uncle. I bad tried to like it while he | lived, but when he died, and there was ; no one to please, I found ray disgust for ! sores and sickness, my shrinking from i the sight of pain, were stronger than my 1 desire to heal or cure. I know this is a humiliating confession, but it is true. | So I moped about, read a great deal, i hovered on the brink of many a pitfall, , and drew back* and a year had passed, i when one morning Mrs. Carter seat foi | inc. Why did you doccive me?" she asked, I abruptly. ; I stared at her in honest amazement, i "I thought you were a poor man," she said, "poking up in that little, miserable i third story room. I had no idea that I you were Harvey Bell's son, and worth ! hundreds of thousand W.as^oaJLv^. yesterday I heard wjio you arc. I am "a worldly old woma^ y0U will tell mc. ; Well, I am; and being worldly and meri cenary, and all tjiat, I sent Elsie Lennox out of vour when?was I a blind old idiot as well, or were you in love with her?" ! "I love her with all my heart!" I answered. "Humph! why didn't you tell mc you i had sufficient money to support a wife? j 1 sent her off to be governess in a friend's family. How could I know her misera. ble scamp of a father would send for her? ! Gracious mc! There's a pretty mess now! John?that is, 3Ir. Lennox, Elsie's father?is down in Texas, dying, and writes to me for money. Whatever he did with all he muddled away, he didn't take any with him; and there's that child alone with him! I can't go. You can see I'm not fit for such a journey in midwinter. John may be dead now. Bless me! I'm half distracted. Do you want to go to them? She is the child of a bankrupt, who made a disgraceful failure. I don't choose to tell any lies about ; them. She has not a cent, and she will not have my money, because it all goes j to my husband's nephew, whether I will it so or not. You sha'n't say i deceived you about her. I suppose she would want to choke mc if I tell you she is fond of you. I knew it, reserved as she was. , You need nat imagine she put on lovc! ---1- ?-1 ? ..,cl,nrl fA j JJiL'K ill 15 ilUUUb >UU, aau ^uouvu iu ? : but eyes aud cheeks are tell-tales sometimes. Well, are you going, or are you disgusted with the whole business?" t:I ain going as soon as you arc 'kind enough to give me the address/' "Here is John's letter. Likely enough lie is more scared than hurt, and not so , ill as lie thinks. There! Good-bye. Givo my love to Elsie, and if I am mistaken, ; and she doesn't care for you, will you briug her back to me?'' "1 will. I'll start to-day." John Lennox was not mistaken. ] I found my darling in a wretched hut near i Galveston, with a servant trying to con; sole her as she sobbed over her father's j corpse. I bad stopped in St. Louis on ! my iourney, and persuaded a couisin of J my owii? a gentle widow, past middlo , age?to accompany me to Texas, aud to i her teuderness and care I left the desolate j girl until after the funeral. It was then ! decided she should accept my cousin's I hospitality, and we went to St. Louis, a mourning party, but with one heart full of eager hope. I did not win my darling easy, for she j was crushed by the knowledge that hei I father's failure was one of exposed fraud. : But she loved me, and to that love 1 trusted, and not in vain. We came again to Mrs. Samson's after two years spent in Europe, where my wife left all her sorrows aud troubles, , coining home a happy, loving wife, aud ! proud, foud mother. Mrs. Carter hud engaged a suit of ! rooms for us opposite to her own, and : seems to have renewed her youth and | found a new stock of amiability. It is i difficult to believe the smiling, loving j woman who greets us now when we cross I the hall, is the same fat old tyrant who made Elsie's life miserable when she t lived in the third story, and least loving, ' despairing looks upon her across the hall. ! ?The Ledger. The Richest American Gold Ore. I A lot of about 200 pounds of quartz, I carrying gold at the rate of ?50,000 a | ton. was recently taken from the main j shaft of the Michigan gold mine, near Ishpeming, Mich. Assays of three | samples of quartz from the Michigan give I $21,620, $51,552 and $110,958 per ton. j The latter is the richest gold-bearing j rock ever taken from an American mine. REV. 1)11. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUXDAY SERMON. Subject: "The Birthplace of Sewing Societies." (Preached at Joppa.) Text: "And all the widows stooJ by him weeping, and showing the. coats and garments which Dorras made while she was with them."?Acts ix., 39. Christians of Joppa I Impressed as I am with your mosque, the first I ever saw, and stirred as I am with the fact that your harbor once floated the great rafts of Lebanon cedar from which (.ho temples at Jerusalem were buiicleu, Solomon s oxen arawwg mo logs through this very town on the way to Jerusalem, nothing can make me forget that this Joppa was the birthplace of the sewing society that has blessed the poor of all succeeding ages in all lauds The disasters to your town when Judas Maccabfeus set it on fire,and Napoleon had five hundred prisoners massacred in ycur neighborhood, cannot make me forget that one of the most magnificent charities of the centuries was started in this seaport by Dorcas, a woman with her needle embroidering her name ineffaceably in the beneflccnce of the world. I see her sitting in yonder j home. In the doorway, and arouud about the building, and in the room whore she sits, are the pale faces of the poor. She listens to their plaint, she pities their woe, she makes garments for them, she adjusts the manufatured articles to suit the bent form of this invalid woman, and to the cripple that comes crawling on his hands and knees. She gives a coat to this one,she gives sandals to that one. With the gifts she mingles prayers and tears and Christian encouragement. Then she goes out to bo greeted on the street corners by those whom she blessed, and all through the street tbe cry is heard: "Dorcas is coming!" The sick look up gratefully in her face as she puts her nand on the burning brow, and the lost and the abandoned start up with hope as thoy hear her gentle voice, as though an angel had addressed them; and as she goes out the i lane, eyes half put out with sin think they * <1! 1.1 .1 j. 1 l I see a uaio or ngns auout uci mun, auu? | of glory in her pathway. That night a lialff' >aid shipwright climbs the hill and reaches lonie, and sees his little boy well clad, and { says: "Where did these clothes come from?" ! And they tell him, "Dorcas has been here." \ In another place a woman is trimming a ! lamp, Dorcas brought the oil. In another i place, a family that had not been at table i for many a week are gathered now, for Dori cas has brought bread. But there is a sudden pause in that woman's j ministry. They say: "Whero is Dorcas!' I Why, we haven't seen her for many a day. ; Where is Dorcas?" And one of these poor j people goes up aud knocks at the door and finds the mystery solved. All through the haunts of wretchedness, the news comes; "Dorcas is sick!" No bulletin flashing from the palaco gate, telling the stages of a King's disease, is more anxiously awaited for than the news from this sick benefactress. Alas! for Joppa! there is wailing, wailing. That voice which has uttered so many cheerful words is hushed; that hand which had made so many garments for the poor is " cold and still; that star which had poured light into the midnight of wretchedness is dimmed by the blinding mists that go up from the river of death. In every God forsaken place in this town, wherever there is a sick child and no bahn; wherever there is hunger aud no bread: wherever there is guilt and no commiseration; wherever mere is a oronen neart anu ho comfort, there are despairing looks and streaming eyes, and frantic gesticulations as they cry: "Dorcas is dead!" They send for the apostle Peter, who happens to be in the suburbs of this place, stopping with a lanner by the name of Simon. Peter urges | his way through the crowd around tho door. and stands in the presence of the^igati.~TVha1 Luxjiosiulationand grief oU-aTiont him! Hert *tand somelff tluTpoor people, who show the garments which this poor woman had made I for them. Their grief cannot be appeased. The apostle Peter wants to perforin a miracle. He will not do it amidst the excited I crowd, so he kindly orders that the whole j room bo cleared. Tho door is shut against the populace. The apostle stands now with the dead. Oh, it is a serious moment, you know, when you are alone with a lifeless body! The apostle gets down on. his Imees and prays, and then he comes to tho lifeless J form of this one all ready for the sepulchor, | and in the strength of Hiui who is the resur | rection he exclaims: "Tabltua, arise:' I There is a stir in the fountains of life; the j heart flutters; the nerves thrill, the cheek j flushes; the eye opens; she sits up! We see in this subject Dorcas the disciple; | Dorcas the benefactress; Dorcas the lamented; Dorcas the resurrected. j If I had not seen that word disciple in my I text, I would have known this woman was a Christiau. Such music as that never came from a heart which is not chorded and strung by divine grace. Before I show you the needle-work of this woman, I want to show you her regenerated heart, the source of a pure life and of all Christian charities. I wish that the wives and mothers and daughters and sisters of all the earth would imitate Dorcas in her discipleship. Before you cross the threshold of the hospital,before you enter upon the temptations and trials of to-morrow, I charge you, in the name of God, aud by the turmoil and tumult of the judgment day, oh, women! that you attend to the first, last and greatest duty of your life?tho seeking i or*rl Knirirr of. nonnft With Him When the trumpet sh'all sound, there will be nn tiwnr. and n wreck of mount am and continent, and no human arm can help vou. Amidst the rising of the dead, and amidst the boiling of yonder I sea, and amidst the live, leaping thunders j of the flying heavens, calm and placid : will be every woman's heart who hath put her trust in Christ; calm notwithstanding all the tumult, as though the fire in the heavens were only the gildings of an autumnal sunset, as though the peal of the trumpet were only the harmony of an orchestra, as though the awful voices of the sky were but I a group of friends bursting through a gatcI way at eventime with laughter, and snouting "Dorcas, the disciple!" Would Grod that | every Mary and every Martha would this j day sit down at the feet of Jesus! Further, we see Dorcas the benefactress. I History has told the story of the crown; the j epic poet has sung of the sword: the pastoral ! poet, with his verses full of the redolence of I clover tops, and a-rustle with the silk of tho j corn, has sung the praises of the plow. I tell j you the praises of the needle. From the fig j leaf robe prepared in the garden of Eden to | the last stitcn taken on the garment for the j poor, the needle has wrought wonders of I kindness, generosity and benefaction. It adorned the girdle of the high priest; it faslijonedthe curtains in the ancieut tabernacle; it cushioned the chariots of King Solomon; it provided the robes of Queen Elizabeth; and in high places and in low places, by the fli'A f\f f.hn ninnoAf'o Konlr lr?rr nr?rl utirlor t.ViO flash of the chandelier, everywhere, it has clothed nakedness, it has preached the Gospel, it has overcome hosts of penury and want with the war cry of "Stitch, stitch, stitch!" The operatives have found a livelihood by it, and through it the mansions of the employer have been constructed. Amidst the greatest triumphs in nil ages and lands, I set down the conquests of the needle. I admit its crimes. I admit its cruelties. It has had more martyrs than the fire; it has punctured the eye; it has pierced the side; it has struck weakness into the lungs; it lias sent madness into the brain; it hus filled the potter's field; it has pitched whole armies of the sufFering into crime and wretchedness and woe. But now that I am talking of Dorcas and her ministries to the poor, I shall speak only of charities of the needle. This woman was a representative of all those women who make garments for the destitute, who kuit socks for the barefooted, who prepare bandages for the lacerated, who up boxes of clothing for missionaries, wh" go into the asylums of the KUileriug' mid destitute bearing that (lOspel which is sight for the blind, and hearing for the deaf, and which makes the lame man leap like a hart, and brings the dead to life, immortal health bounding in their pulses. What a contrast between the practical benevolence of this woman and a great deal of the charity of this day I This woman did not spend her time idly planning how the poor of your city of Joppa were to be relieved; she took her needle and relieved them. She was not like those persons who sympathize with imaginary sorrows, and go out in the street and laugh at the boy who has upset his basket of cold victuals, or like that charity which makes a rousing speech on the benevolent platform, and goes out to kick the beggar from the step, crying: "Hush your miserable howling P' The sufferers of the world want sot so much theory as practice; not so mucn tears as dollars; not so much kind wishes as loaves of bread; not so much smiles as shoes; not so much "God bless yous!" as jackets and frocks. 1 will put 0110 earnest Christian man, hard working, against five thousand mere theorists on the subject of charity. There are a great many who have fine ideas about church arcliitecture who never in their life helped to build a church. There are men who can give you the history of Buddhism and Mohammedanism, who never sent a farthin"for their evangelization. There aro women who talk beautifully about the suffering of the world, who never had the courage like j Dorcas to take the needle and assault it. I am glad that there is not a page of the | world's history which is not a record of fej male benevolence. God says to all lands and j people, Come now and hear the widow's mite : rattle down into the poor box. The Priu^ess of Conti sold all her jewels that she might help the famine stricken. Queen Blanche, the wife of Louis VIII, of Frauce, hearing that there were some persons unjustly incarcerated in the prisons, went out amidst the rabble aud took a stick and struck the door as a signal that they might all strikoit, aud down went the prison door and out i came the prisoners. Queen Maud, the wife of Henry I., went down amidst the i poor ttiiu wusucu meu aurwj mm ?u| ministered to them cordials. Mrs. Retson, ! at Matagorda, appeared on the battlefield | while the missiles of death wore flying | around, and cared for the wounded. Is j there a man or woman who has over heard | of the Civil War in America who has not heard of the women of the Sanitary and ; Christian commissioners, or the fact that, bej fore the smoke had gone up froifi Gettysburs and South Mountain, the women of the ; North met the women of the South on the battlefield, forgetting all their animosities ! while they bound up the wounded, and closed ! the eyes of the slam? Dorcas the benefac| tress. I come now to speak or Dorcas the lamented. When death struck down that good womaif, oh, how much sorrow there was in this town of Joppa! I suppose there were women here with larger fortunes; i women, perhaps, with handsomer faces; but there was no grief at their departure like this at the death of Dorcas. There was not more turmoil and upturning in the Mediterranean Sea, dashing against the wharves of this .seaport, than thero wero surgings to aud fro of grief because Dorcas was dead. There are a great many who go out of life and are | unmissed. Thero may be a very largo funeral; there may be a great many carriages j and a plumed hearse; there may bo hijjh \ sounding oulogiuras; the bell may toll at the j cemetery gate; thero may ba n very fine j marble shaft reared over the resting place; | but the whole thing may bo a falsehood aud ! a sham. The church of God has lost nothing, i the world has lost nothing. It is only a j nuisance abated; it is only a grumbler ceas! ing to find fault; it is only an idler stopped i yawning; it is only a dissipated fashionable i parted from his wine cellar; while, on j the other hand, no useful Christian leaves ! this world without being missed. The church j of God cries out like the prophet: "Howl, (lr tree, for the cedar has fallen." "Widowj hood comes and shows the garments which j the departed had made. Orphans are lifted , tip to look into the calm face of the sleeping ! benefactress. Reclaimed vagrancy comes ' and kisses the cold brow of her who charmed ; it away from sin, and all through the streets of Joppa there is mourning?mourning because Dorcas is dead. When Josephine of France was carricd out to her grave, there were a great many ; men and women of pomp and pride and position that went out after her; Dut I am most affected by the story of history that on that day there were ten thousand of the poor of ; France who followed her coffin, weeping and : wailing until the air rang again, because, j when they lost Josephine, they lost i their last earthly friend. Oh, who would not rather . havo such obse[ quies than all the tears that were | ever poured in the lachrymals that have | been exhumed from ancient cities. There may ue nu 1111159 wr uie ueau; uiuru maj uo ,i.no-costly sarcophagus; thero may bo no elaborate mausoleum; but in tho damp cel! lars of the city, and through the lonely huts ! of the mountain glen, thero will bo mournj ing, mourning, mourning, becauso Dorcas is I dead. "Blessed are tho dead who die in the ! Lord; they rest from their labors, and their I works do follow them." j I speak to you of Dorcas the resurx-ected. The apostle came to where slio was and said: ! "Arise; and she sat up!" In what a short | compass the great writer put that?"She sat : up!" Oh, what a time there must have been ; around this town, when tho apostle brought her out among her old friends! How the j tears of joy must have started! What clap | ping of hands there must have been! What I singing! What laughter! Sound it all j througn that lane! Shout It down that dark alley! Let all Joppa hear it! Dorcas is resj urrected! ! You and I have seen the same thing many I a time; not a dead body resuscitated, dm I the deceased coining up again after death in j the good accomplished. If a man labors up i to fifty years of age, serving God, and tben j dies, we are apt to think that bis earthly : work is done. No. His influence on earth I will continue till the world ceases. Services rendered for Christ never stop. A Christian woman toils for the upbuilding of a church through many anxieties, through many self denials, with prayers and tears, and then she dies. It is fifteen years since she went away. Now the spirit of God descends upon that church; hundreds of souls stand up and confess the faith of j Christ. Has that Christian women, who I went away fifteen years ago, nothing to do with these things? I see the flowering out of her noble heart. I hear the echo of her footI steps in all the songs over sins forgiven, in I all the prosperity of the church. The good . iUnl fr\ Kn Kiiriorl hoc PfUYlA un no^jiin i Dorcas is resurrected. After a while all these womanly friends ! of Christ will put down their needle forever. ! After making garments for others, some one ' will make a garment for them; the last robe [ we ever wear?the robe for the grave. You I will have heard the last cry of pain. You j will have witnessed the last orphanage. You I will have come in worn out from your last j round of mercy. I do not know where you j will sleep, nor wbat your epitaph will be; j but there will be a lamp burning at that tomb I and an angel of God guarding it, and through I all the long night no rude foot will disturb i the dust. Sleep on, sleep on! Soft bed, pleasant shadows, undistnroed repose 1 Sleep ool Asleep In Jesus! Blessed sleep! From which none ever wake to weep. Then one day there will be a sky rending, and a whirl of wheels, and the flash of a pageant; armies marching, chains clanking, banners waving, thunders booming, and that Christian woman will arise from the dust, and she will be suddenly surrounded?surrounded by the wanderers of the street whom she reclaimed, surrounded by the wounded souls to whom she administered! Daughter of God, so strangely surrounded, what means this? It means that reward has come, that the victory is won, that the crown is ready, that the banquet is sproad. Shout it through all the crumbling earth. Sing it through all the flying heavens. Dorcas is resurrected I In 1855, when some of the soldiers came back from the Crimean war to London, the Queen of England distributed among them beautiful medals, called Crimean medals. (inllpries were erected for the two houses of Parliament and tlio royal family to sit in. There was a great audience to witness the distribution of the medals. A Colonel who had lost both feet in the battle of Inkerman was pulled in on a wheel chair; others came in limping on their crutches. Then the Queen arose before them in the name of her government, and uttered words of commendation to the officers aud men, and distributed these medals, inscribed with the four great battlefields. Alma, Balalclava, Inkerman and Scbastopol. As the Queen gave these to the wounded men aud the wounded officers, the bands of music struck up the national air, and the people with streaming eyes joined in the song: God save our gracious Queen! Lonif livoour noble Queen! God save Che (jueeu! And then they shouted "Huzza! huzza!" Oli, it was a proud day for those returned warriors! But a brighter, better nud gladder day will come when Christ shall gather those who have toiled in His service, good soldiers of Jesus Christ. He shall rise bofore them, and in the presence of all the glorified of heaven Ho will say: "Well done, good and faithful servant!" and then He will distribute the medals of eternal victory, not inscribed with works of righteousness which we have done, but with those four great battlefileds, dear to earth and dear to heaven, Bethlehem! Nazareth! Gethsemane! Calvary! The old report that Mr. Gladstone has secretly gone over to the Roman Catholic Church is again in circulation to a certain limited extent. Y" .n ' ' . ' . " '*! \ - I ' y' RELIGIOUSJEADING. BELIEVE GOOD TIIINGS OP GOD. When in the atorm it seeuis to thee, That he who rules the raging sea Is sleeping?still, with bended knee, Believe good things of God. When thou hast sought in vain to find The silvery thread of love entwijicd With life's oft-tangled well?resigned, Believe good things of G~d. And shou'd he smite thee till thy heart Is crushed beneath the bruising smart, Still, while the bitter tear-drops start. Believe good things of Goa. 'Tig true thou canst not understand The dealings of thy Father's hand; But, trusting what his love has flanned, Believe good things of God. He loves thee! In that love confide, Unchanging, faithful, true and tried; And let or joy or grief betide. Believe good things of God. Thou canst not raise thy thoughts too high: As spreads above the earth the sky, So do His thoughts thy thoughts outvie; Believe good things of God. In spite of what thine eyes behold; In spite of what thy fears have told; 1 Still to His gracious promise hold? Believe good things of God. For know that what thou canst believe Thou shalt in His good time receive; Thou canst not half his love conceive? Believe good things of God. ? Luff. VICTORIOUS LIVINO. Jesus, walking on the stormy sea as if it bad been a marble floor, was a picture of the victoriousncss of His living in all His experiences. Thus he walked on all waves. There were rivers of trial in His path, but His feet never sank into tbeir waters. He came at the last to a black sea of sorrow, whose billows rolled like mountains about, but He trod them under His feet, and passed in quiet majesty to the other side. Or, to dr-ip the figure, He was always victorious in living. He was never defeated in life's enmities or antagonisms. In this the life of Christ is a type of what every Christian life should be?victorious always. Jesus Himself said: "In the world ve shall have tribulations, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." St. Paul in speaking of the trials and trouble that beset the Christian,?tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, sword, ?asked: "Shnil these separate us from the love of Christ'/" and answered his own question, "Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." These antagonistic influences should never be allowed to defeat or crush us. Instead of being vanquished by the ills, triab and enmities of life, we should overcome them, and be more than conquerors, through Him that loved us. Nothing should ever defeat us, nothing can defeat us, if we realize our privilege as Christians. "What soever is bora of God overcomcth the world, and this is the victory- that overcomcth the world, even our faith."?Prisbyterlan. A CONSTANT FJtlE.VD. In a home which I was recently visiting I ! heard a very interesting story of the thoughtfulness of a young man. lie was riding on a train from Marblehead to Boston. Glancing up from the morning paper, he noticed the rather peculiar appearance of a lad who was seated not far from him, who, a fellow-passenger informed him, had been blind for several years. , The explanatory statement was made in that half careless tone which we all use ! more or lcs3 in the communication of facts with which we have for some time been familiar. No one but the young man seemed to take any deep interest in the blind lad after curiosity had been satisfied. He communed with himself: "How will the poor little fellow reach his home? There is no one with him, and he may live at some distance from the city station. How will he ! find his way through the streets?" j He decided that, in spite of pressing business, he would follow the lad. - t 1-:? ?1? 1. - ! lie was ciose ucsiue uuu wucu i.c ucscended from the train, he watched hira carefully from street to street, though soon discovering that he had wonderful skill in pressing Ins way onward, and he remained so near that, had any accident endangered his life, he would have protected and saved him. The young man did not rest satisfied until the lad had reached his home and been welcomed by his invalid mother. The recital of this story was followed bv the warm applause of all in the family group which had listened to it. Grandfather said, "A good young man?so kind and thoughtful!" But while we arc glad over all such incidents, tvhich are like jewels of the purest lustre, how we should rejoice that the Lord lias promised, "Lo, T am with you alway." lie '"that sticketh closer than a brother" follows each lad and youth through all the dark shadows which life may bring them, guarding them amid a thousand dangers and evils, entering into all their homes to fill them with love and cheer.?Samuel (,'harles Howard. THANKSGIVING AND COURAGE. Paul "thi n'ced God and took courage." Thankfulness and courage go together They are twin qualities of the inner life, tha two eyes of the same soul, one looking backward, the other forward. Those who see God in the past, see Him in the future. They thank Him for what He has done and trust Him for what He will do. With the memory of His goodness, they have laid up a great hope of His ble-sing. You see those who are noted for courage and success in doing Christ's work, and how thankful they are for everything done. Mark their tone and expression when they tell of an attempt to win a soul, or draw a troubled or faltering saint out of theshadow, and see how they rejoice over the smallest gain. If the alchemists could have turned one little pebble or grain of sand into gold, the secret would have been found, and tlu-ir feverish dream a reality. Mountains would have turned to precious metal. These thankful people are spiritual alchemists. They have found the secret which transmutes every tliiug. In the grace which softens a single heart or soothes a sorrow they see an abounding grace. Every blessing upon their work is a double blessing?a blessing to themselves and to another, 3 wide-snread blessing, multiplying it.self into a multitude of loving kindnesses and tender mercies. One small devil cast out, and, like their Master, they see Satan fall from Heaven, and rejoicing in spirit, they lift up their hearts ana voices and thank the Lord of Heaven and earth. These are the brave souls who are going to bring the world to Christ. Paul did not think of himself as living a charmed life, but he did think himself part of a great plan. lie was not a poor, lonely wanderer, but a servant of Christ, a man on a heavenly mission, about his Father's business. Hence, whatever befalls him is not merely a personal matter, but an affair of the kingdom. There is au exquisite touch of this sentiment in his letter to the Corinthians: "Whether we be alHicted it is fur your consolation and salvation, or whether we be comforted it is for your consolation and salvation." This is the wide view of life, and the only vtew which can keep the heart full of thankfulness and courage.? X. V. Obsewer. "A passion for souls"?that is the feeling that should possess us all. If it did, our Hires vviinlil lx> vustlv dilfercnt. The trifles, religious as well as of other kinds, that so engage us. would be given up, and with a holy zeal wo would wield the gospel ot salvatiou. But do we wish to tret this wassionf AN EXPERT'S VIEW. The Sanitarian, Dr. A. N. Bell, editor, comments upon and commends the law passed by the last Legislature of Minnesota, to punish drunkard* by fine and imprisonment,* and says: The Sanitarian has constantly maintained that the true criminal is he who gets drunk. And that it is no more reasonable to hold the liquor-seller guilty of promoting drunkenness than it would be to hold the grocer guilty of promoting theft because his goods are sometimes stolen. Make drunkards odious, and cease pampering them as nnfortunates and encouraging them to hold other persons responsible for their sins, and geti ting drunk will speedily go out of fashion. TEMPERANCE. COME AND HELP. Come forth from ttie valley, come forth from the hill. Come forth from the work-shop, the mine, and the milL, From pleasure or slumber, from study or play, | Come forth in your myriads, to aid us today: There's a word to be spoken, a deed to be done, A truth to be uttered, a cause to be won: Come forth in your myriads! Come forth every one! Come, youths, in your vigor; come, men, in your prime; Come, age, with experience fresh gathered from time: I Come, worKers: you re welcome; come, thinkers, you must; Come thick as the clo&ds in the midsummer dust, Or the waves of the sea gleaming bright in the sun! I There's a truth to be told and a cause to be won? Come forth in your myriads! come forth every one! ?Charles Mackay. SALOONS THE RALLYING POINT FOE CRIME. The criminal connection of the saloon with , almost every detail of the Cronin tragedy Li I shown by a multitude of incidents. As the Chicaqo News well puts it: "From the time Andrew Foy left the lodge-room of camp 20 to take a drink after his fiery speech denouncing Dr. Cronin, to thff time Coughlin, O'Sullivan and Burke went into Niemann's saloon to refresh themselves after the brutal murder, almost every circumstance adduced in evidence radiates from or points to a saloon, so close did the conspirators keep to the fountain of diabolical inspiration." AN UNFUDDLED NATION. The mental vigor of the Japanese nation Ls | largely due to the curious fact that almost, alone of Oriental races, the natives of the Japan archipelago have never been enslaved by the stimulant habit in any of its degrading forms. They drink tea, a little coffee here and there in the larger cities, and in tho seaport towns frequented by Chinese traders, a small percentage of the population havj learned to smoke opium; but neither tobacco nor alcohol have ever managed to get a foothold on tho soil of this sea-girt country. A large plurality of the rural population stick to water, and use tea only as a holiday beverage?a degree of teetotalism equaled only among a few hill-tribes of opium-fuddled China, Siara and Hindostan. The natives of Kamschatka get drunk on toad-stool extract, the Tartars on fermented mare's milk, and even the starving Druses, in the highland fastnesses of Mount Lebanon, waste thenscant resources on an Intoxicating preparation of fox-glove. WORK OF THE W. C. T. U. . Mary Henry, National Press Superintendent of the W. C. T. U., in a letter concerning the doings of the recent convention of that body at Chicago, closes as follows: "So far as the convention itself was concerned tho reports of department work were of the greatest interest and importance and received tho closest attentibn. Permit me in closing to mention a few points, merely, from these reports, to give an idea of 'what the W. C. T. U. is doing anyhow,' beside discuss political questions. More than $1100 have been spent in work among foreigners, nearly 100 different kinds of tracts in four teen different languages Having been published; nineteen States have taken up the work for peace and arbitration: a capital stock of 9242,000 has been secured for the temperance temple; 200,000 children have been gathered into Loyal Temperance Legions. The Police Gazette and similar publications have been suppressed in many places. The Legislatures of twenty-seven States and the National Congfess have made the science of temperance a required study in all schools under tlieir control: the gain of pledged Sunday-school scholars in ten States alone is more than 40,000; the Woman's Temperance Publication Association has sent out more than 125,000.000 pages of temperance and religious literature. These items do not summarize, but simply suggest the vast work already accomplished by the Woman's Christian Temperance Union under the inspiration of this motto: "No sectarianism in religion, no sectionalism in politics, no sex in citizenship; but each and all of us for God and home and native land.' ' ! ALCOHOL HUINS TEE ?RAI2S\ It is one of <he curious errors that alcohol stimulates the imagination, and gives a clearer, mora practical insight into tho relation of evaits of life. The whirl of thought ruuseu up UV LilC 1UL1 caocu wv/umuvu vy*. wuv. j blood in the brain is not imagination; it is not a superior insight or conception of the relation of events, but is a rapid reproduction of previous thoughts, soon merging into confusion. The inebriate never creates any new ideas or new views; all his fancies are tumultuous, blurred and barren. The apparent brilliancy is only the flash of mania, quickly followed by dementia. Alcohol always lowers the brain capacity and lowers the power of discriminating tne relation of ideas and events. After a few periods of intoxication I the mind under the influence of spirits is a blank, blurred page. _ j The poets and orators who are popularly ! supposed to make great efforts under the iiifluCTice of alcohol only repeated what had bafcn said before in a tangled delirium of exI pression. The physicians who are supposed to have greater skill when using spirits have paralyzed their hfgher brain centres and nave lost all sense of fear or appreciation of the consequences of their acts, and hence act more automatically, simply doing what they have done before without any clear appreciation or discrimination of the results. The inebriate is the best of all imaginative persons, and the one in whom the higher i nrnin forces of iudement. reason and concep tion are the first to give way. The mail who uses spirits to give mental force and clearness is doing the very worst thing possible to destroy this effect. Alcohol is ever and always a paralyzant, according to T. D. Crothers, M. D. It never creates anything; it never gives strength or force that did not exist before; it uever gives a clearer conception and power of execution, but always lowers, destroys and breaks down. TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. . Von Moltke says: "Beer is a far more dangerous enemy to Germany than all the armies of France." The Leeds School Board, England, has decided to allow temperance teaching in its schools by means of occasional lectures. T. B. Butler, of Fresno, California, has this year dried 100,000 boxes of raisins. This is better than wine and brandy making. A Chicago physician has opened a private hospital for the treatment of professional ana business men addicted to the drink habit. From the United States Monthly. "To wreck a train is a crime, but to wreck a human soul is a privilege that the State sells." ' Beer in a hand-bag" is one of the latest devices in New York city for evading the excise restriction in the matter of Sunday beerselling. The London Telegraph says the people of London in a year drink 200,000,000 quarts of beer, 10,000,000 quarts of rum, ana ou,uuu,uw quarts of wine. ft is estimated that in ninety* per cent, of all cases coming before the police justices of New York city the fault may be traced to the use of intoxicants. When a Cincinnati burglar pleaded guilty the other day, and piteously alleged that he was drunk when lie committed the crime, the Judge gave him two years extra on his sentence, saying: "The man who gets drunk and commits a felony is worse than a sober man who breaks the law."' Sam Jones relates that he saw in Chicago eighteen thousand men marching through the streets carrying a banner on which was inscribed: "Our children cry for bread." The procession marched on to a grove where 1 h.'y settled down to a picnic and drunk among them fourteen hundred kegs of beer. As the result of a firemen's meeting recently held in a Chicago engine house by Miss Jennie Smith, national superintendent of work among railroad men, the captain of the corps asked that a committee of ladles be appointed to visit each engine house every Sabbath afternoon to hold Bible temperance meetings and sing Gospel hymns. Dr. Kraut-Ebing, an eminent professor in the University of Vienna, says that sixty j>er cent, of all cases of insanity inherited a predisposition from their ancestors. In twenty per cent, of all cases intemperance is found to be the sole or chief cause, and in thirty per cent, more one of the causes of mental disease. He advises legal measures to combat the habit of intemperance, or the formation of societies to counteract it. mm SABBATH SCHOOfil INTERNATIONAL LESSON DECEMBER 22. ' jrj} Lesson Text: "Close of Solomot^m Reign." I Kings zL, 26-48? Golden Text: Eccles. xii., 13? Commentary. - m / * 26. "Jeroboam the son of Nebat." Over % .1 twenty times is this man, whom we now meet for the first time, thus mentioned in the twe^ books of Kings, and in most places it is as "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat who made Is- \ raeltosin." He became the first King of the " i ten tribes and set up the two golden calves at Dan and Bethel for Israel to worship. \ (Chap, xii., 26-30.) His name, according to Young, signifies "Enlarger," and he was certainly tin expert in the way of enlarging the i sins of Israel There must be some reason \ why the Holy Spirit has recorded the facts ' ' \ that he was an Ephrathite of Zereda; that he | was Solomon's servant; that his mother's name was Zeruah, and that she was a widow. ( Every word the Holy Spirit has written is sienifiennt And imnnrfjinf. ?riH if vo /yrnnnf at first see anything in such statements as these, let us read them all the more prayer- ; fully, relying upon the Spirit to give us light. I only call attention to the fact that two other widows are mentioned in this first book of Kings (chapters vii., 14; xvii., ?); but we ; knew the name of none but this one. (See .' Luke ii., 37; vii., 12; ni, 2, 3.) "Even he lifted up his hand against the King." At the beginning of Solomon's ceign it was written that the Lord his God had * j given him rest on every side, and that there ' was neither adversary nor evil occurrent (chap, v., 4), but no w all is changed. "When a man's ways please the Lord, He maketh vj even his enemies to be at peace with him." (Prov. xvi., 7); but Solomon's wayB were not now pleasing unto the Lord, and both Jehovah and Elohim were stirring up adversaries against him (verses 14, 23), brides this enemy in his own household. - > 27, 28. "And this was the cause that ho lifted up his hand against the King." The,*-^ most of our lesson to-day is an opening up of\ this sentence, showing that Jeroboam's rebel- V lion was of Jehovah. , . V 29-31. "The Prophet Ahijah. tho Shilonite, found him in the way." Here is man whom we now meet for the first time; but what a contrast to Jeroboam, for Ahijah ^ is twice called by that exalted name, "Ser- ' vw vantof Jehovah (chapters xiv., 18: xv.. 20), and he bears the word, of Jehovan. As to Jeroboam, he is found in the way, no doubt in the way of industrious service in the posi- / t ion in which Solomon had exalted him, lit- H tie thinking that he was also in the way to a kingdom. Literally he was in the way out of Jerusalem, and probably on the way to ;J oversee the work appointed to him. He is clad in a new garment, and as the prophet meets him he seizes the garment, zonds rt in twelve pieces and hands ten of tne pieces to Jeroboam, by this rather startling out very significant act assuring turn tnat ui? JUora. God of Israel will rend the ten tribe* from < 1 Solomon and give them to him. 83 "Because that they have forsaken me, * * * and have not walked in my ways." Passing over, for the present, the verses referring to what God will do for David's Jerusalem:s sake, we continue the story of - < Jeroboam, and here is the reason why tentwelfths of the kingdom is to pass from Solo- < mon to him. Wisdom and her ways give peace, prosperity and true happiness; but if " : we forsake wisdom and give ourselves to \ folly we must expect to reap as we sow. - ^ 35. "I will take the kingdom out of his son's hand and will give it unto thee, even ten tribes." As I notice the ten or more UI wills" of God in this lesson and wonder why God should select Jeroboam, I can only . think of. the words of the Spirit in Dan. iv., 32. 35: "The Most High ruleth in the king- dom of men and givetn it to whomsoever He will; He doeth according to His will in the army of Heaven and among the inhabitants of earth; and none can stay Hiii hand or say unto Him, What doest Thou?" 37. "And I will take thee, and thou shalt reign according to all that thy soul desiretb, and slialt be King over Israel." Here is a secret of the heart laid open by the great searcher of hearts, who is often pleased to give us what our hearts desire that thus He may prove us to see wheth6P-~s?ewill walk in . His ways or not. We read that jsolomon, Save the Queen of Sheba all her desire, bat?V ere is a greater than Solomom granting to Jeroboam liis soul's desire; and the same Lord is saying to us: "Whatsoever ye shall ask in My Name, that will I do, that the Father mar S be glorified in the Son;" and again: ' M ; things whatsoever ye shall ask inprayer, believing, ye shall receive;" but He tnat pondoreth the heart considers whether we earn- i estly desire what we ask for, and desire it for His glory. (John adv., 13; Matt. xxL, 22; Prov. xxiv., 12.) It may be that Jeroboam ? never breathed his soul's desire to be King to a single person, but God notices the things that come into our mind, every one of them. (Ezek. xi., 5.) 38. "If thou wilt harken, * * * I will be with thee." Not only is the Kingdom promised to Jeroboam, but God offers to make it permanent if he will only be obedient. The Lord Himself is the true King,and He will establish any onewho will truly represent Him by obeying His commands, walking in His ways, ana doing right m His sight. 32, 34, 36. "For mv servant David's sake." We return now to the reason why the whole kingdom was not to be rent from Solomon, and we find this as the first reason. Four times in this lesson Jehovah speaks of him as "David my servant," and twice we find the expression "For my servant David's sake,'' and it is also said, ''because he kept mv . mandments and my statutes." This was the manner of David's life, taken as a whole, and his love for the statutes and commandments of the Lord is fully told forth in Psalm cxir. This it is that delights the Lord and brings from Him the riches of His grace. Jesus the Son of David fulfilled all righteousness, and it is for His sake that we receive forgiveness and all the benefits of His salvation. "And for Jerusalem's sake, the city which I have chosen out of all the tribes of Israel." See also verses 13, 36; Israel was a chosen people, Jerusalem a chosen city, David a chosen servant, and all to magnify the name of Jehovah; when they failed to do this He delivered them to their enemies to be chastened, as it is written: '"You only have I known of all the families of th^td&sthere- 4 t t .vi. ^ 39. "I will for this afflict the seed o? David, but not forever." David and his obedience brought blessing, Solomon and his sins^H brought affliction, but inasmuch as God'q^H covenant with David is forever (II Sam. vii.,^^| 12-16), therefore there will be a restoration and the Kingdom shall be established in the True David in due time (Isa.ix.. 6, 7; Luke i, 33, 33). 40. "Solomon sought therefore to kM Jeroboam." Thus did Saul to David, butL. not thus did David to Saul, not even to ^ Shimerwhen he cursed and threw stones. Death is the devil's weapon; he who walks with God leaves vengeance to Him, that is to God. and does not take matters into his own hands. 42, 43. "Solomon slept with his fathers, and was buried in the citv of David his father." Forty years a King, riches and wisdom and honor unprecedented bestowed upon him, yet he acts as a fool; a thousand wives ana one son, and that son robbed ot his inheritance by his father's sins. Is it not a sad story? But was Solomon saved? Where we have no clear testimony we cannot say positively. "We may hope that ere lie went out to meet God he truly repented and turned to Him. How is it with you dear reader??Lesson Helper. iYJLtl, ULAJJS^unr. Liao uu xivu liiyi wij 9 which is erected close to the parish church; there are five rooms iti it, the principal one being forty-one feet long and twenty-ouefeet wide. Twenty ton weight of books will be fitted into the cases which are being made; but it is intended for quiet study, only a few persons will be allowed to use the library at one time. Mrs. Rachel stillwaggon,of Flushing, L. I., has celebrated her 104th birthday. She says if her health permits she will keep Stillwaggon on in the same way. The people of Florida flatter themselves that their State is on the eve of a long-continued prosperity from the overflow of Northern immigrants and na.nita.1 i