The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, January 08, 1890, Image 2
THE NEW DAY.
Out from the broken calyx of the night
The new day merges with a slow surprise.
And like some n.nv-winged tiling with startled
eyes.
Bests on the riven sheath ere taking flight.
But a? pulses quicken and grow strong
The purple mists are smitten from her face, I
And slowly knowing all its new-born grace
The red pomegranate flushes o'er it throne,
Then up the cloudy way in stately wi- -
Thrusting the shadows back ?l*'-1 mystic
hand,
Sherideth slowly tb""uS'u the waiting land.
No thought 0f r -sierday doth dim her eyes,
For lo t1* "e?"-born day that rulos the earth
Is n--' d res'!1'1'0,-'ti"a, but a birth!
?Lvyj E. Tilley, in Harper's Weakly.
i
THE CAPTAIN'S STORY.!
We were on our way from Iloug Kong '
to Foochow on the coasting steamer Na- i
moa. when Captain N., mv "fidus i
Achates'' of the voyage, looked at the j
gathering clouds to the westward and
remarked: UI hope it won't rain before
we get into Amoy; we arc just thirty j
miles away."
' How do you know the distance so exactly,
Capt:u*
k,Look at that rock, and over beyond |
it, you can see through a rift in the
clouds a little speck like a pin point on
the top of that black mountain. The pin
point is a tall pagoda on that high cliff,
and the pagoda is as good a signboard ,
for this town as if that who'e black cliff ;
were painted 111 white letters a mile high j
aud half a mile wide?A-M-O-Y. I j
never sec either the pagoda or the city ,
thai a cold chill does not run all over ;
me."'
AViiI you tell me why, Captain?"
. . ''Certainly, but it's a long story?well,
~ here goes:
Amoy was one of the first treaty ports i
iu China open to foreign commeice, and |
fur a long time the noted hatred of the 1
Chinese for foreigners was more intense j
there than at any other port. I was then I
Captain of a steamer on the first line ply- i
ing between Amoy and the English colony 1
of Hong Kong, some two hundred miles ;
away.
One cloud}' evening in November I ,
went ishore in A.moy to make .1 few final j
preparations for my ship's departure the '
next day. While on shore t noticed that 1
my footsteps were dogged by a disrepu- j
table looking coolie, who approached me 1
with great earnestness in his manner as i
soon as he had reached a comparatively j
open spot, where the growing darkness j
shut out the teeming hordes of a Chinese i
city. I saw that it would be impossible j
to avoid an encounter if this strange fol- <
lower should prove to be a highwayman, j
So carrying my hand to my hip pocket, j
where I felt the friendly "grip" of my re- i
vol ver, I waited for the man to come closer, j
I then saw that the coolie was in great dis- j
tress and, moved by his earnestness, I j
stopped to listen to his talc. The man ex- !
plaiued in Chinese and '-pidgin1' English j
that he had a brother in jail who was to |
be beheaded in two days more for capsiz- j
ing in a sail boat and drowning his pas- j
senger, a mandarin's son. The mandarin, I
bent on revenge, had thrown the boat- j
trlinrA tV?r* farr?n nf n
UIUU XU(,U piiovni, nuvtv vuv ?? w v? ?? I
trial had been gone through with and i
the innocent man had been doomed to j
die. The coolie said that his family ;
were all wretchcdly poor, but that they i
had managed, by the sale of most of their j
belongings, to raise money enough to ,
bribe the jailer to allow the prisoner to i
escape, and all that was necessary to ,
save his life was to get him away on some [
vessel to the nearest foreign colony. The
poor creature fell on his knees and imk
plored me to save his brother's life. He ;
" would give me anythiug?everything he i
had?only to give the hunted creature a ;
hiding place, to save a fellow-being from i
the headman's ax! All this was uttered j
between broken sobs, and the poor man j
wept as if it were he himself who was ,
only to see two more suns rise before the j
i..rth would drink up his life blood.
I felt my sympathies intensely excited, j
and yet I kuew the treacherous nature of ,
the Chinese and the danger in interfering i
with their ideas of justice, and, wishing !
either to test the truth of his story or to pre- j
vaii upon the coolie to choose some other
means for his brother's escape,I said: "I'll;
stow him away and carry him down tollong
Kongfor 500taels"(about$550),thinking ;
? that such a price would be utterly beyqnd 1
the coolie's means. The poor man seems ;
, staggered at the enormity of the sum, a i
large fortune to one of his class, but he \
*"~i?Jiied in a moment and said he supposed
he woild have to pay it; that it was a '
v fearful suva., that he was very poor, and
s to raise so muc'n money his family would :
' ivave to sell all they owned: but he must !
save trv.s.brother's life; if the Captain insisted
he woNSjldAuvc to pay it.
My sympathies were now still more
keenly aroused, and seeiug that the uu- 1
welcome passenger would be sent, and not
caring either to break my word or to
profit by the poor wretch's misfortunes, ;
I said: "Well, I'll do it for the regular
fare" (about ?10), "bring him down to
the wharf at 11:30; I am going off to
my ship then."
The coolie seemed overpowered with
joy and was still ''kow-towing" his
thauks as I moved away and he disappeared
in the darkness.
I had no sooner rcached the wharf,
about 11:45 p. sr., than I was touched
by the same coolie, who now offered his
services as "sampan"' man. I followed
him to the boat and there saw another
man whom the dim lamp light showed to
. be as poorly clad as his brother. Wheu
we shoved off I noticed that both were
very clumsy with their oars, but as my J
Bhip was close to the wharf we were soon '
alongside.
Here I handed my overcoat to the i
boatman and he picked up a bundle j
tied Chinese fashion in a lar^e handkerchief,
and we went on board, leaving my
new acquaintance iu the boat. I sent j
my steward forward ou an errand that :
would detain hitn for a few moments and
then had the coolie deposit his bundle in j
a small closet in the eabiu, and told him
that that must be his brother's hidiug
place until we put to sea, and that he
mils! It" murk to "ft into if.
A', a motion o.y; the side lite condemned
man sprain-1 out oi the boat, !
which lie had made fast at the gangway. I
and slid noiselessly aft through the cabin i
and into the closet. I turned the lock \
and put the key iu my pocket.
But as he passed the cabin iamp curioJty
had led me to take seurcliiug 1
glance at my strange passenger, and. in
spite of his unkept hair and soiled and
tattered clothes, his light complexion
*nd retiued features revealed iu the coolie's
brother a Ohlnainan of the higher
classes.
I tliea tried to scrutinize the boattnau,
bui the inau's back was to the light, autl
the steward returning just then I paid my
V " -. A ... * *- ...
sampan fare, ami my strange acquaint- I
awe departed.
I turned in. wondering who -Mysterious
passenger might ba^'and my
thoughts were not witho;:^vague misgivings
of the noted Incichery of the Chinese.
I woke "-<?r!y, and had hardly begun
dress:.iig before a herald came to inform
:.ie that the \ iceroy of the province desired
to*ec me at Ins yamen" .tt 10 that
morning. This strange summons I at
<>nce connected with my harboring an <:s
caped prisoner, and. full of vague distrust.
I had almost decided either to put
to sea two hours before the advertised
time, noon, and so temporarily avoid any
explanations, or io plead press of business
and refuse to obey an almost royal
command. Disturbed by such doubts, I
hardly felt relieved when another herald
came to say that the Viceroy had concluded,
as he desired to see the ship, to
visit the Captain, and that my presence
at the "yamen" would be excused.
Such a thing as a Viceroy visiting in
state a merchant vessel was almost unprecedented.
and I began to fear that I was
implicated iu the escape of a political
prisoner of high rank.
Now the customary official messengers
began to pour in: First, two clad in
robes' of state announced that his excellency
would arrive in half an hour; then
four more that he was coming in ten
minutes; then four horsemen gaudily caparisoned.
rode down to the wharf where
I was now waiting to say that their master
would arrive in five minutes; thcu a
procession of liveried servants bearing
aloft on high poles red sign boards, on
which all the virtues under the sun were
ascribed in Chinese characters to their
lord! soldiers with fl i?s and swords and
spears; meu with whips and gongs to
clear the way; mandarins on horseback;
lictors with long pheasants' tails in their
caps, and a large nibble on foot?all proclaimed
that his excellency had arrived.
Alighting from a gorgeous green sedan
chair, borne by sixteen men in livery, lie
greeted me most politely and accepted my
invitation to take passage in my gig oil
to the ship. A large portion of his escort
followed, occupying a small fleet ol sampans.
The Viceroy was ushered iDto the
cabin and, strange to say, selected a
chair immediately ir. front of the door
of the closet in which the refugee was
concealed.
After a few courtesies had been exchanged
I was informed through an interpreter
that Prince Ichang, the leader
of an insurrection, who had been captured
and condemned to be beheaded,
had made his escape. Suspicion, they
said, seemed to point to his being secreted
on board my ship; a sampan had been seen
to go alongside of her the night before
about midnight; it reached the ship with
two boatmen and one foreigner and returned
to the shore with only one man,
and he made off in great haste as soon as
he had landed, leaving the sampan adrift.
"Of course the Captain knetv nothing
about the escaped, prisoner, 'and so he
could have no objections to allowing the
ship to be searched."
This was subtly put. To refuse to
allow it would be equivalent to acknowledging
that the man was on board, and
would cost me my place in a company
whose interest it was to placate the unfriendly
Chinese. To allow the ship to
be searched involved the possible discovery
of the man, and in that case his
recapture and ccrtain death, as well as my
own dismissal from the company. Either
"""MO mirrVif- pndnnopr t,hf> livf'S of tile
ll""?v """ ?3" foreign
community in Amov, against
whom the hatred of the Chiuesc needed
only a pretext to begin a general massacre.
1 felt the color come and go in ray
checks and for a moment I thought of
delivering the refugee up to certain
death, saying that when I took him on
board I was not aware of the nature of
the offence, and then revulsion of feeling
came over me. I thought "this man
has trusted his life in my hands and,
hunted criminal that he is, I will not betray
him."
All this flashed through my mind in an
instant, and when I turued to the Viceroy
I felt the same spirit of helpless, yet
indomitable defiance that every true sailor
feels in the fury of the storm. I said
quietly, "Certainly, your excellency, my
steward will turn over the keys to your
servants, but they will find no such mau
on board my snip."
The search party went all over the ship,
directed by the crew, and after probing
into corners and peering in amongst the
bales of silk and boxes of tea, 110 stranger
was found. This was reported to the
Viceroy, who said: "You have not
.searched this cabin; do so." I was wild
with excitement and alarm, but my relief
was intense when my furtive glances
showed me that the search party did not
dare to ask ttlcfr master to move from in
frout of the door. This relief was of
short duration, for he again asked if they
had searched everywhere. "Everywhere
except in that apartment behind your
excellency's chair. We will look
there too; where is the key?"
[ now became thoroughly fright|
ened, and, fumbling for some
loophole to escape, I told the Viceroy
that that was a lockcr where I kept my
1 wines, and?I was ashamed to confess it
1 to so high a ruler under the 'son of
i heaven*?that I sometimes hid opium and
' other contraband articles there. Would
his excellency forgive me if I begged that
[ that place be kept unopened, as my pcc|
eadilloes, if discovered, would cost me
my post as Captain. i:Iu that case," said
the Viceroy, "I will save you from trouble
by inspecting myself?the key?"'
Doubtful whether to confess my com
plicity or to brave it through, I thought
of the mysterious nature of the whole affair.
and hoped tliat the strange passenger
might, in some mysterious manner,
have escaped. This straw of hope that
drowning desperation clung to saved the
day. I reached iti my pocket ami with
trembling fingers pulled out. the key.
The Viceroy unlocked the door.opeaed
it and closed it hastily; behind him.
My nerves were then so wrought upon
that I could almost have heard tin- dew
fall, and 1 fancied I heard a word within
sooken .pry low. Then tin* door opened
airain. I hen- was a rustle of silk robe*,
the door closed, and the Viceroy said in
Chinese: ' 'No one there!"
1 felt my heart throb with one great
bound and things seemed to reel around
me. When I recovered my composure
enough to look up with pleaded and grateful
eyes I saw au expression ) thought 1
recognized, and in an instant I knew what,
my own unstrung nerves and the regal
roites had before concealed?the miseri
able coolie of the night before was none
other than the Viceroy of the Province of
i Fuh-kiod, the absolute ruler of twentyi
five millions of people. I had no longer
a doubt that my mysterious passenger and
; the royal fugitive were tlie same, and that
\
N
rJ
yctf viceroy himself wai conniving at his
[escape. ^
Th^ ship sailed on time and Prince
j Ichang was landed safely in Hong Kong,
| whore he lived under English protection
I until a severe illne>s let him. 'him have
j that privilege most mortals enjoy?of
dying with hi.s head on.
Subsequent developments pointed to
I the fact that the Viceroy was influenced
j not only by personal friendship but by an
J enormous bribe with which the rich
f pr'.uce bought his own head, and that,
fearing the treachery of any of his suborj
dinates, lie had planned and executed the
escape entirely alone. Of my betraying
! him he had no fear, as the word of a
'foreign devil'' would then weigh nothing
in ;i Chinese court.
Two years afterward I received from
; the Viceroy of Kwang Tung a gorgeous
pair of vases ami some magnificent cm!
l)roidcri(.s. '-in gratitude for past liospi!
tali ties:"' and I found that my coolic
' friend had been promoted to the governi
ment of one of the largest provinces of
' the Empire.? Washington Star.
Force Expended in Climbing a Hill.
j The physical energy or force sometimes
exerted by the humau body under certain
! conditions is known to be astounding,
j but no one has ever taken the trouble to
! put before us that force in figures. Dr.
J. Buchheister has now made a most iuj
tercsting calculation outhc t:ivork done"'
; by mountaineers iu ascending heights,
j which will serve us an illustration. Supposing
a mountaineer weighing 168 pounds
; is making the ascent of a summit 7000
j feet high from the point of starting, he
has to expend an amount of physical force
j by multiplying his weight by the height to
I be ascended. In the ease assumed a
| weight of 16S pounds multiplied by a
1 height of 7000 feet equals 1,176,000
I foot-pounds; or, in other words, 1.176,I
000 pounds have to be lifted 1 foot.
I This is work performed merely by the
j muscles of the legs; but, besides this,
| the contractions of the muscle of the
J heart have to be taken into account. Its
function consists, as is well known, in
| propelling the blood collecting in the
j heart, on the one hand, into the arteries,
' and, on the other, into the lungs. This
j is effected at au iuitial velocity of 1^- feet
I per second, which represents in the case
of an adult a work of 4 foot-pounds for
j each contraction of the heart. The pulI
sations of an adult arc on the average 72
; per minute, but in ascending heights,
i owing to the additional exertion, their
j number is increased to an extraordinary
i extent.
Assuming, for the sake of simplicity in
! calculation, only 100 beats of the pulse
per minute, this would give 400 footpounds
per minute, 24,000 toot pounds
per hour and 120,000 foot-pounds .for
the five hours supposed to be required iu
ascending a height of 7000 feet. The
work performed by the muscles in
breathing, by the expansion and contraction
of the chest, mav also be estimated
i at four foot-pounds. Assuming, further,
j that the number of breathings per minj
ute is on the average only twenty-five,
i although, as a matter of fact, it will be
I fouud to be higher in a mountain ascent
i lasting five hours, we have to add further
work of 30,000 foot-pounds.
The total work performed during five
j hours by a mountaineer consequently
j amounts to. 1,326,000 foot-pounds. In
: this estimate are not included the physij
cal force spent in overcoming the friction
on the ground, the exertions to be
' made in keeping the body erect at dizzy
heights aud in dragging heavy boots and
foot-irons, nor the loss of muscle power
; in cutting steps in the ice, not to reckon
j the work performed in carrying an ice
j axe, or the physical force exerted in
j crossing fresh, loose snow. Taking all
j these conditions into account, Dr. Buch|
heister arrives at the conclusion that the
! worn. done in an ascent of 7000 feet,
; lasting five hours, cannot be placed at
j less than 1,380,000 foot-pounds.?Iron.
Antipodean Cannibals.
The savages of North Queensland, Ausj
tralia, are still cannibals. The normal
J condition of these savages is inter-tribal
i war, and, this, no doubt, was the state
' of the earliest society. Every tribe, and
I often sub-division of the same tribe, arc
1 at feud with one another and all the rest;
the stranger is universally regarded as
fair game, and especially as being provii
dentially offered for the pot. A certain
j path to distinction among them is skill
] in furnishing human meat, which is not
j to be considered a staple, but as a highly
i prized luxury. When the black fellows
j feel the need of a Delmonico dinner, so
j to speak, they send out their crafty man;
hunters, and prepare to dish up the
j strauger within their gates. Sometimes
I the harmless necessary strauger is sadly
| wantiug. Theu, if they are very sharp
I set, they perhaps make au excuse for
! killing one of their own women, or a
! plump baby or so. Babies, as an ele1
rucnt of the cuisine, are highly appreI
ciated, their tenderness being recalled
: with watering of the mouth and geutle
I sicrhs of satisfaction.?Carl Lumholtz.
i
! "Nine Tailors Make a Man."
The mcauiug of the expression '-Nine
| tailors m:ikc man,'' is traced to the singj
ular custom of tolling the church bell a
I given number of times, at a burial, to
I denote the sex of the deceased. In some
j places the custom is still extant, and is
; generally three for a child, six for a
! woman, and nine for a man. These
strokes, of course were counted and had
an arithmetical idea connected with them,
I and thus the knell, at its conclusion, was
| said to be tolled or counted. By degrees
' this idea became confused or lost, and the
participle "told'' was referred to a sup
posed infinite -'to toll," instead of its
: natural infinite "to tell." By carrying
the history of this error a little further,
we may arrive at an elucidation of an
! otherwise obscure proverb. The strokes
I told or counted at the end of the knell
1 were called from their ollice "tellers."
! This term was again changed into
' "iailers," from their sounding at the end
<>f '-tail" of the knell; and nine of these
\ being given to announce the death of an
tin, w? i*tii<i'
il' I in I mini', i;a> u iii?u n? i??\ Nine
tailors make u man.*1
Tho Phenomena of Echocs.
j Every one is familiar with the phcno;
menu of echoes. Iu a cavc in the Pantheon,
the guide, by striking the flap of
| his coat, makes a noise equal to a twelve
i pound cannon's report. The singularity
I is noticed, in a lesser degree, in the Mum;
moth Cave, in Kentucky. In the cave of
j Sinelliu, near Viborg, iu Finland, a cat
, or dog thrown in will make a screaming
echo, lasting some minutes. Pliny tells
of a cave in Dalmatia where a stone tossed
in would raise a perfect storm. Fingai's
Cave, on the Lsle of Stafla, has an abnormally
dcveloned echo.
' ; ' ? *>
j r'"^
AS. Dfi. TALMA6E. I
THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY
SERMON.
Subjcct: "A Marriage Feast." j
(Preached Near Can a in Galilee.)
!
Text: "Thou hast kept tlic good wine '
until now."?John ii., 10.
Standing not far off from the demolished j
town of what was once called Cana of Galilee,
I bethink myself of our Lord's first manhood
miracle, which has been the astonishment
of the ages. My visit last week to that
place makes vivid in my mind that beautiful i
occurrence in Christ's ministry. My text j
brings us to a wedding in that village. It is |
a wedding in common life, two plain people I
having pledged each other, hand and heart, j
and their friends having come in for ;
congratulation. The joy i3 not tho
less because there is no pretension.
In each other they find all the future they
want. The daisy 111 the cup on the table may
! mean as much as a score of artistic garlands
fresh from the hothouse. When a daughter
goes off from homo with nothing but a plain
father's blessing and a plain mother's love, i
she is missed as much as though she were a |
Princess. It seems hard, after tho parents j
have sheltered her for eighteen yoars, that in
' a few short months her affections should have j
1 been carried off by another; but mother re- I
1 members how it was in her own case when
j she was young, and so she braces np until the
wedding has passed, and the banqueters are
gone, and she has a good cry all alone.
Well, we are to-day at the wedding in
' ??,I tr.'o
have been invited. It is evident that there
j are more people there than were expected.
! Either some people have come who were not
I invited, or more invitations have been sent
i out than it was supposed would bo accepted.
Of course there is not enough supply of
! wine. You know that there is nothing
! more embarrassing to a housekeeper thau a
j scant supply. Jesus see3 the embarrass;
raent, and He comes up immediately to relieve
it. He. seas standing six water pots.
He orders the servants to fill them with water,
then waves His hand over the water,
and immediately it is wine?real wine.
Taste of it, and see for yousselves;
no logwood in it, no strychnine in it, but first
! rate wine. I will not now be diverted to the
! question so often discussed in my own country,
whether it is right to drink wine. I am
describing the scene as it was. When God
makes wine He makes the very best wiue;
and one hundred and thirty gallons of it i
standing around in these water pots?wine |
so good that the ruler of the feast tastes it
and says: "Why, this is really better than
anythiug we have had! Thou hast kept the
good wine until now." Beautiful miracle! A
prize was offered to the person who should
write the best essay about the miracle in Cana.
Long manuscripts wore presented in the competition,
but the poet won the prize by just
this one line descriptive of the miracle.
The uucouscious water saw Its God, and blushed.
I We learn from this miracle, in the first
place, that Christ has sympathy with housekeepers.
You might have thought that Jesus
would nave saia: "i cannot oe Docuerea wnn |
this household deficiency of wine. It is not i
I for me, Lord of heaven, of earth, to become
' caterer to this feast. I have vaster things i
than this to attend to." Not so said Jesus.
The wine gave out, and Jesus, by miraculous I
power, came to the rescue. Does there ever
come a scant supply in your household? Have
you to make a" very close calculation?
Is it hard work for you to carry on things
decently and respectably? If so, don't sit
down and ory. Don't go out and fret; but
go to Him who stood in the house in
Cana of Galilee. Pray in the parlor! Prav
in the kitchen? *Let there be uo room in all
your house uuconsecrated by the voice of
prayer. If you have a microscope, put under
it one drop of water, and see the insects
floating about; and when you see that God
makes thein, and cares for them, and feeds
them, conic to the conclusion that He will
take care of you and feed you. oh, ye of little
faith.
j A boy asked if he might sweep the snow
from the steps of a house. The lady of the
household said: '"Yes; you seem very poor."
He says: "lam very poor." She says:
"Don't you sometimes get discouraged, and
feel that God is going to let you starve?"
The lad looked up in the woman's face and
said: "Do you think God will let me starvo
when I trust Him,and then do the best I can?"'
Enough theology for older people! Trust
in God and do the best you can. Amidst all the
worrimcnts of housekeeping, go to Him; He
will help you control your temper,and supervise
your domestics, and entertain your
guests, and manage your home economies.
There are hundreds of women weak, and
nervous, and exhausted with the cares of
hmiKAlr<v>nin<r_ I commend vou to the Lord
Jtsus Christ ns the best adviser ami most
efficient aid?the Lord Jesus who performed
His first miracle to relieve a housekeeper.
| I learn also from this miracle that Christ
docs things in abundance. I thiuk a small
supply of wine would have made up for the
deficiency. I think certainly they must have
j had enough for half of the guests. One gallon
of wine will do; certainly five gallons
' will be enough, certainly ten. But Jesus
goes on, and Ho gives them thirty gallons,
aud forty gallons, and fifty gallons, and seventy
gallons, and one hundred gallons, and
one hundred and thirty gallons of the very
t best wine.
i It is just like Hiin, doing everything on the
j largest and most generous scale. Does Christ,
our Creator, go forth to make leavos? He
makes them by the whole forest full; notched
like the fern, or silvered like the aspen, or
broad like the palm; thickets in the tropics,
Oregon forests. Does He go forth to wake
flowers? He makes plenty of tliem; Uicy
flame from the hedge, they hang from the
top of the grape-vine in blossoms, they roll in
the blue wave of the violets, they toss their
white surf into the spiraea?enough for every
child's hand a flower, enough to make for
every brow a chaplet, enough with beauty to
cover up the ghastliness of all the graves.
Does He go forth to create water? He pours
it out, not by the cupful, but by a river full,
. a lake full, an ocean full, pouring it out unj
til all the earth has enough to drink, aud
1 enough with which to wash.
Does Jesus, our Lord, provide redemption?
i It is not a little salvation for this 0110, a little
for that, and a little for the other, but
' enough for all?"Whosoever will, let him
! come." Each man an ocean full for himself.
J Promises for the young, promises for the
i old, promises for the lowly, promises for the
blind, for tho halt, for the outeast, for the
abandoned. Pardon for all, comfort for all,
mercy for all, heaven for all; not merely a
cupful of Gospel supply, but one hundred
nnd thirty gallons. Av, the tears of godly
repentance are all gathered up into God s
bottle, and some day, standing before the
throne, we will lift our cup of dolight and ask
that it be filled with the wine of heaven; and
Jesus, from that bottle of tears, will begin to
pour in the cup, nnd we will cry: "Stop,
Jesus, we do not want to drink our own
tears!" nnd Jesus will say: "Know yc not
that tho tears of earth nro tho wine of
heaven?" Sorrow may endure, but joy coineth
in the morning.
I remark further, Jesus does not shadow
the joys of others with His own griefs. He
might have sat down iu that wedding and
said: "I have so much trouble, so much
poverty, so much persecution, and the cross
is coming; I shall not rejoice, and tho gloom
of My fnco and of My sorrows shall bo cast
over all this group." So said not Jesus, no
said to Himself: "Hero are two persons
starting out in married life. Let it be a joyful
occasion. I will liido My owii griefs. I
will kindle their joy." Tliero are many not
so wise as that I know a household
where there are many little children,
where for two years tho musical
instrument has been kept shut because
tliern has been troublo in the house. Alus
for the folly! Parents sa3Ting: "We will
nave no unrisimas tree mis coiiuiik uuuuuy
because there lias been trouble in too house.
Hash that laughing up stairs! How can
(here be any joy when there has been so
1 much troublo ?" And so they make everything
consistently doleful, and send their
sous and daughters to ruin with the gloom
they throw around them.
(jh, my dear friends, do you not kuow those
children will have trouble enough of their
own after a while? Be glad they cauuot appreciate
all yours. Keep back the cud of
| bitterness from your daughter's lips. AY hen
' your head is down in the grass of the tomb,
poverty may come to her, betrayal to her,
i bereavement to her. Keep back the sorrows
as long as you can. Do you not know that
son may, after a while have his heartbroken?
Stand between him and all harm.
You may not fight liis battles long;
fight them while you may. Throw
not the chill of your own despondency over
, his soul; rather be like Jesus, who came to
: the wedding hiding His own grief and
kindling the joys of others. So I nave seen
I tho sun, on a dark day, struggling amidst
clouds, black, ragged and portentous, but
after a while the sun, with golden pry,
heaved back the blackness; aud the sun
laughed to the lake, and the lake laughed to
the sun, and from liorizon to horizon, under
the saffron sky, the water was all turned into
wine.
I learn from this miracle that Christ is not
impatient with the luxuries of life. It was
not necessary that they should have that
wine. Hundreds of people have been married
without any wine. We do not read that
any of the other provisions fell short. When
Christ made the wine it was not a necessity,
but a positive luxury. I do not believe that
He wants us to eat hard bread and sleep on
hard mattresses, unless wo like them the
best. 1 think, if circumstances will allow,
we have a right to the luxuries of dress, the
luxuries of diet and the luxuries of residence.
There is no more religion in an olu coat than
in a new one. We cau serve God drawn by
goldeu-plated harness as certainly as whew
we go a-foot. Jesus Christ will dwell with
us under a fine ceiling as well as under a
thatched roof; and when you can get wiue
made out of water, drink as much of it as
you can.
What is the difference between a Chinese
mud hovel and an American home? What is
the difference between the rough bear skins
of the Russian boor and the outfit of an American
gentleman? No difference, except that
whicn the Gospel of Christ, directly or indirectly,
has caused. When Christ shall have
vanquished all the world, I suppose every
house will be a mansion, and every garment a
robe, and every horse an arch-necked courser,
and every carriage a glittering vehicle, and
every man a King, and every woman a Queen,
and the whole earth a paradise; the glories of
the natural world harmonizing with the
glories of the material world, until the very
bells of tho horses shall jingle the praises of
the fjord.
I learn, farther, from this miracle, that
Christ has no impatience with festal joy,
otherwise He would not have accepted the
invitation to that wedding. He certainly
would not have done that which increased
the hilarity. There may have been many in
that room who were happy, but there was
not one of thein that did so much for the joy
of the wedding party as Christ Himself. He
was tho chief of the banqueters. When the
wine gave out, Ho supplied it; and so, I take
it, He will not den)* us the joys that are positively
festal.
I think the children of God have more
ri^ht to laugh than any other people, and to
clap thoir hands as loudly. There is not a
single joy denied them that is given to any
other people. Christianity does not clip the
wings of the soul. Religion does not frost
the flowers. What is Christianity?
I take it to be simply a proclamation
from the throne of QoJ of
emancipation for all the enslaved; and
if a man accepts the terms of that proclamation,
and becomes free, has ho not a ripchtto
be merry? Supposo a father has an elegant
mansion and large grounds. To whom will
he give the first privilege of these grounds?
Will he say: "My children, you must not
walk through these paths, or sit down under
these trees, or pluck this fruit. These are
for outsiders. They may walk in
them." No father would say anything like
that. He would say: "The first privileges in
all the grounds, and all of my house, shall be
for my own children." And yet men try to
make us believe that God's children are on
the limits, and the chief refreshments and
enjoyments of life are for outsiders, and not
for Ilis own children. It is stark atheism. Ther
is no innocent beverage too rich for God's
child to drink; there is no robe too costly for
liim to wear; there is no hilarity too great
for him to indulge in, and no house too
splendid for him to live in. He has a right
to the joys of earth; he shall have a right to
the joys of heaven. Though tribulation,
and trial, and hardship may come unto him,
let him rejoice. "Rejoice in the Lord, ye
righteous, aud again I say, rejoice."
I remark again that Christ comes to us in
the hour of our extremity. Ho knew the
wine was giving out l>efore there was any embarrassment
or mortification. Why did He
not perform the miracle sooner? Why wait
iinf.il if woe all orm** nnrl r?r* lmln nniilrl n/rniA
from any source, and then come in and perform
the miracle? This is Christ's way; and
when He did come in, at the hour of extremity,
He made first rate wine, so that they
cried out: "Thou hast kept the good wine
until now." Jesus in the hour of extremity!
He seems to prefer that hour.
In a Christian home in Poland great poverty
had come, and on the week day the man was
obliged to move out of the house with his
whole family. That night ho knelt with his
family and prayod to God. While they were
kneeling in prayer there was a tap on the
window pane. They opened the window,and
there was a raven tnat the family had
fed and trainod, and it had in its bill a ring
nil set with precious stones, which was
found out to be a ring belonging to the
royal family. It was taken up to the
King's residenco, and for tlie honesty
of the man in bringing it back he had a
house given to him, and a garden and a farm.
Who was it that sent the raven tapping on
the window? The same God that sent the
raven to feed Elijah by the brook Charith.
Christ in the hour of extremity!
You mourned over your sins. You could
not find the way out. You sat down and
said: "God will not be merciful. He has
cast me off;" but in that, the darkest hour
of your history, light broke from the throne,
and Jesus said: l,0 wanderer, come home.
T linvfi seen all thv sorrows. Ia this, the
hour of thy extremity, I offer thee pardon
and everlasting life!"
Trouble came. You wore almost torn to
pieces by that trouble. You braced yourself
up against it. You said: "I will be a
stoic, ana will not care;" but before you had
got through making tho resolution it broke
down under you. You felt that all your resources
were gone, and then Jesus came.
"In the fourth watch of the night," the
Bible says. "Jesus came walkine on the sea."
Why did He not come in the first watch ? or
in the second watch ? or in the third watch '<
I do not know. He caine in tho fonrth, ami
gave deliverance to His discipl03. Jesus in
the last extremity'
I wonder if it will bo so in our very last
extremity. We shall fall suddenly sick, and
doctors will come, but in vain. Wo will try
the anodynes and the stimulants and the
bathings, but all in vain. Something will
say: "You must go." No one to hold us
back, but the hands of eternity stretched out
to pull us on. What then? Jesus will come
tous, and as we say: "Lord Jesus, I am
afraid of that water; I cannot wade through
to the other side," He will say: "Take
hold of My arm:" and wo will take
hold of His arm,and then He will put His foot
in the surf of the wave, taking us down
deeper, deeper, deeper, and our soul will cry:
"All Thy waves and billows have gone over
" aairm. thn foot: mm a tn tho
IIIC. -* UDJ Wtci VMV . ? ?
knee, pass the girdle and come to the head,
and our soul cries out. "Lord Jesus, I cannot
hold Thine arm any longer." Then Jesus
will turn around, throw both His arms about
U3 and set us on the beach, far beyond tho
tossing of the billows. Jesus in the last extremity.
That wedding scene is gow? now. The
wedding ring has been lost, the tankards
have been broken, the house is down; but
Jesus invites us to a grander wedding. You
know tho Bible says that the churcli is the
Lamb's wife, and the Lord will after awhile
come to fetch her home. There will be
gleaming of torches in the sky, aud tho
trumpets of God will ravish the air with
their music, and Jesus will stretch out Hi9
hand, and tho church, robed in white
A il I put aside her veil, und look
up into the face of her Lord the King,
and the bridegroom will say to the bride:
"Thou hast been faithful through all these
-fours! The mansion is ready ! Come home!
Tlion art fair, My love !" and then He
shall put upon her brow the crown of dominion,
and the table will be spread, aud it will
reach across the skies, and the mighty
ones of heaven will come in, garlanded
with beauty and striking their cymbals
; and the bridegroom and bride
will stand at the head of the table, and
the banqueters, looking up, will wonder and
admire, and say: "That is Jesus the bridegroom?
But thescar oil Ilis brow is covered
with the coronet, and the stab in His side is
covered with a robe!" anil "that is the bride!
The weariness of her earthly woo lost in the
flush of this wedding triumph!"
Tii -tv will Ik- wine enough at that wanding:
not coming up l'roni the poisoned vatof
earth, but the vineyards of God will press
their rii>est clusters, and the cups and the
tankards will blush to the brim with the
heavenly vintage, and then all tho banqueters"
will drink standing. " Esther
having come up from tho bacchanalian
revelry of Ahasuerus. where a
thousand Lords feasted, will be there. Anil
the Queen of Shcba, from tho banquet of
.Solomon, will be there. And the mother of
Jesus, from the wedding in L'ana, will be
there. And they all will agree that the
earthly foasting was poor compared with
that. Then, lifting their chalices in that holy
light, they shall cry to the Lord of the feast:
"Thou hast kept the good wine until now."
Intemperance is the doctor's wet
none.
.- -^.sr
*>. ' ^:.; f~Tm:. c ^
RELIGIOUS READING
COt'I.D WE KNOT!
Could wp but. glance tiie future o er.
Its hidden depths unveil,
Look on the blessings safe in store,
Whose mercies never fail.
Could we but see the happiness
Each new year seeks to give,
Our daily lives to cheer and blessHow
gladly would we live!
Could we behold the grief and care,
The painful weary striTo,
Allotted as our rightful *hare
In earh new year of life.
Could we anticipate the thorns
That- in our nHtliwnv lip
Before another (toy cou'd dawn
How gladly would we die!
Yet innocent of each we grope
With blind porsisteuc.* on,
I'p eld by patient faith and hope
Each daily strife is won.
A future'* burdens unconcealed,
Our inmost hearts benumb,
While sorrows one by one revealed
Are coiique: rd as they come.
?Lvrana \\\ Shcldov*
A FLAG FOR CHRIST.
A few years ago, a converted Sikh lay dying
at Amritsar, in the Punjaub, India.
Before be pas ed triumphantly into glory,
be expr ssed his desire to put up a flag for
Christ, and left some money for the purpose.
Today a flag waves in the gentle breezes
above the houses of that citv. bearing simply
the words, "For Christ.?' in bold letters
on a scarlet ground. That bright flag
seemed to us a monument of the grace ana
mercy of God, who could transform an idolater
into a saint; and also a glad prophecy
of the future when all nations shall own
the sovereignty of our coming King.
ROCK f F AGES?AN* INCIDENT.
On board the ill-fated steamer Seawanliaka
was one of the Fisk University singers.
Before leaving the burning steamer, and
cominitling himself to the merciless waves,
he carefully fastened upon himself and wife
life-preservers. Some one cruelly dragged
away that ot the wife, leaving her without
I nv/iflr.f na eV? a ^ aIIikt tr\ lior Vi na_ l
band. This she did.p'acing her hands firmly
on his shoulders and resting there until, her
strength becoming exhausted, she sa:d, "I
can hold on no longer." "Try a
little longer," was the response
of the weary and agonized husband; "let us
sing'Rock ot Ages."' And as the sweet
strains floated over those troubled waters,
reaching the ears of the sinking and dying,
little did they know, those sweet singers of
Israel, whom they comforted. But lol os |
they sung, one after another of those ex- |
hausted ones were seen raising their heads
above the overwhelming waves, joining
with a last effort in this sweet, dying, pleading
prayer:
"Rock of Ages, cleft for mo;
Let me hide myself in Thee."
With the song seemed to come strength;
another and yet another was encouraged to
renewed effort. Soon in the distauce a float
was seen approaching. Singing still, they
tried, and soon with superhuman strength
laid hold of the life-boat, upon which they
were borne safely to the land. This is no
fiction. It was related by the singer himself,
who said he believed "Rock of Ages" i
saved many another besides himself and .
wife.
BEPKOVINC. SIX.
How wo neg'ect this duty! There is a
plain command upon the subject, "Thou
shalt in anywise rebuke thy neighbor, and
not suffer sin unon him." (Lev. xix: 17.)
How it woulu diminish profanity, for instance.
if every time a man should swear on
the streets, on the cars, or in depots, he
should be sure to call up some witness for
Jesus. The judgment hall where the Son
of God stood amid His foes was a good
place to cry out, with Thomas, "My Lord
and my God!" There are men living today
who would do it, who would glory in do'ng
. it. The eflect of simply speaking the name
of Je us with reverence and love on such ocsasions
is wonderful.
Every reader is familiar with the name of
John H. Vincent. Once he reproved a
3wearer so powerfully, and yet so tenderly,
that he not only subdued him. but melted
him to tears. Jt was in a railway'station.
The room was full of passengers waiting for
a belated train.* A man, probably slightly
intoxicated, was shocking everybody with
his profanity. Suddenly Dr. Vincent began
to sing:
"Jesus, Lovfr of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly."
The song ceased. Perfect silence reigned.
The swearer vva reproved. After a time he
came to Dr. Vinceufc. and said:
"Could I see you a moment outside?"
They went out together.
"How came you," said he, "to ling that
hvnn just now?"
The doctor replied:
"I heard you swearing, and 1 thought I
would let you know there was somebody
there who loved the name of Jesus."
"That's very strange,", said tho man.
"My sister when she was dy ng sung that
very hymn, and she made me promise to
meet her in heaven. Could yo1.. pr?y fo.*
me?"
Down m the snow they knelt togcJie',
and the doctor prayed for the penitent man,
and asked that he might have grace and
sirengin 10 Keep uis vow.
The train came. They were separated to
meet no more, in all probability, till they
meet in eternity.
r,REARING BRUISED REEDS.
Sc'encc of a certain kind says we must lay
down a law of the survival of the littest, and
if the reeds are broken throw them away.
Jesus says, throw nothing away. Let us
work for the sav ng of every life, and see
that we work so carefully, with so critical a
| love and patience, that we lose nothing at
last but the son of perdition, the son of
' waste, the child that must go home to the
j devil. Let us have no rough-and-ready
treatment, however, of human life; but let
us examine and separate and do what we
can, for we are bound to save the last atom;
then, if we can no' save it, we must own
that we have lost. Father. I have lost none
but the son of perdition. lie did not want
to lose any. He did not come to destroy
men's lives, but to save them. If men wiil
not be saved, even the Son of (iod cannot |
save them. To force a man into heaven is ,
not to till him with peace and joy; it is to j
violate the harmony which he cannot ap- :
predate. "A bruised reed,'* say |
some. An instrument called a reed was
meant, and tnere was a rut in it j
which spoiled the music. Jesus Christ j
said: We must repair this; something :
must be done with this reed. It was meant '
fiv music, and we must look at it with that
end in view. He does not take it, saying.
There is a rift in the lute, and the music is
impossible; rend it. and throw it away. lie
always looks to see if a man cannot be
made something of. He would heal us,
every one. Say to Him. l> lirui&ed 1'ced, if
I may but touch the hem of tby garment,
even my lift-reed >hail be tieale.l. and I will
take up*it'od'g music again, and be glad in
Cod's house. Or a "br.iisci r.-cu" mr.y
moan that wi'd bea-fs. in r "hi ih.-or.gh
tl>e water or I Ir: l! i. have |
crushed the grow.i.g .?!??so iliai rbev are
bent; thtv 110 iu>.? SiUiiui ;:?sc.:aij?i!tl.v; but
Jesus Christ o'utu* to lien! s'setn. And lbe
smoking Ha:: i.ji' He not |iie,::h. He will
rather take i; :.p ?::J shake "1*-: Oill v
can shake, I r.?-?.- a little ;iy.. \ ai; ;o bear
upon it, and sv!>: a !;. t1 mo:c \o j-adually;
see hov. ;hs t? p.i"r v::::*n bow it
le jis iii> into .. i.i,.(i ? ' ft."v. Now
watch Him 1" w !!.* -niking.
and >ce hn'v ,r:.u v,ii c .;i : wa<
only snmkv . h\ '.aIght as a
lire. liM'ful :;jjd how it is handed
on to the aid '.i it*:* men?/ . <//'i /'?? /.< <
A MISS A DEPI.TY COLLECTOR.
A few days ago a trim young lady alighred
from a train at Jeffersonville, lml.. and ]
made her way into a number of saloons and
liquor-stores. The proprietors of these plat es
o|teni>d their eyes wide in astonishment when
>he presented her card, which read as follows: '
' Miss Maud Cottom. Deputy Collector.
Seventh District." She then proceeded with
a most thorough and business-like investigation
of the places visited. This is the first
time on record that a lady has been appointed
a deputy collector of internal revenue, since
such a position necessitates the regular personal
visitation of all the tough dives and
liquor shops in the district and the inspection
of all Government licences. May Miss Maud
perform her duties in a way to strike terror
to the heart of every transgressing saloonkeeper
and law-evading liquor^dealer.?New j
1'ork Witness.
I TEMPERANCE.. '%
THE TTVO DAKOTA8. 1
All hail: to the fair twin sinters V J
Which have entered the Union grand, J
With the glorious motto regnant,
"God, Home, and Native%an<* "
So rugged, and so beauteous, ?
So young and yet so free; ^
If the morning is so glorious, 1
What will tne noontide be? V
God bless the two young sisters,
And the quartette* grand and brave; \
Sfhy they lead the way victoriotis
And our own loved country save
From the slavish rule of Bacchus, *c
From the chains its servants wear. <
Let the Stars and the Stripes float o'er us,
A nation free and fair.
" ''Maine, Kansas, North Dakota and South
Dakota.
?Mrs. Richmond, in National Advocate. J
HOW KUCH IS CAUSED BY RUM? j
The Board of Estimate and Apportion- {
merit hnvp made their final annrcmriations
for the city expenses of New York for 1890.
Among the items are: Police Department,
$4,610,515; for Charities and Correction, 12,109,030;
for Asylums, etc., $1,180,5)68; for
City Court and Judiciary salaries, $1,393,
240; Health Department, $391,500; Coroners J
office, $50,000. ? These six items aggregate . 1
$9,740,252. What per cent, of tins vast
amount is due solely and wholly to the liquor
traffic in this rum-cursed city??New York . -Pioneer.
a noble example.
Dr. Horatius Bonar was a total abstainer,
and this story is told concerning the event
which led him to take the pledge: The head "<-r
of a family in his congregation was addicted
to drink, and the doctor advised him to abstain.
"Have you taken the pledge?' inquired
the poor man. Dr. Bonar went immediately,
hunted up a pledge, signed it, and
returned to say to his unfortunate parishioner:
t-Yes, I have signed the pledge for
your sake." Some men insist on their right J
to drink moderately, and refuse to commit {?:
themselves to total abstinence lest they should \
losea fragment of their rights and their free-dora.
But do they owe uothing by way of
example to the weakest and most needy class r jj
of human beings? To stand stubbornly on J?
one's rights in a case like this, and at a timd~~^B
like the present, is an effectual way to break - V
the bruised reed and quench the smoking flax, -3
?Christian Adtocatc.
don't go down that street.
I was visiting at a good minister's house ~i'-r ]
a few days ago, and made friends with his crj
bright little daughter, onl^ six years old,
who uxugui iue a ie:>suij. x uivit/cu uoi uv
take a walk with me, and we proceeded
down the street, her hand in mine, chatting
in a very friendly way. As we came to a
crossing, she said: "Don't go down that
street !"
"Why not?" I asked, in surprise.
"Because I am always tempted when 1 go
down there."
"What is it that tempts you?"
"The candy store. I always wants to go ,
go in and buy some candy."
j Now here is a lesson for children of larger
growth. What should you do when you are
! tempted'? Run away, or rather don't go in .
[ the way of temptation. Is it the saloon that
| tempts you to enter? Keep away. What[
ever it is that makes you spend your moner
needlessly, keep away. Keep on the aare.
! side. We give you the advice in the words' '-A
! of the Bible: "Avoid it, pass not by it, turn
, from it and pass away."?Youth's Temperance
Banner.
VICTIMS OF THRIST MADNESS.
The periodical desire for strong drink
which sometimes besets individuals other!
wise moral and exemplary is a species of .
| paroxysmal mania beyond the control of the
! Tf io /mltfl nnrloin f.Hof f.VtOrO ftfA J*-i
I puiicuw XV UJ \jVUIA9 Wi ktuu VU?V ??v.? ? r w-j-r.
! thousand of cases of remitteut drunkenness
I which present the specific symptoms of dte*
: ease.
The periodical drunkard is not an habitual
dram-drinker. But at particular times he
! appears to be attacked with a thirst-madness
I which deprives him of the power of volition
' aud hurries him into the most terrible ex- \
I cess. During the interval between the pari
oxysms he may be a perfectly sober man. ML
I For many weeks, or even months, he may
! have steadily refused to taste a drpp^JF^^
j liquor; may, indeed, have felt no inclination
; for it, but on the contrary regarded it with .v
I disgust. And yet, when the fit time comes
I on, the raging thirst for alcohol utterly par'
alyzes his conscience and his will.
A man in this condition is a monomaniac,
and should be treated as one. If put under
proper restraint at the commencement of
i this furor, the dipsomaniac, in nine cases out
of ten, might be tided over his difficulty in
I the course of a week, and a perseverance in .*
| the course at the recurrence of the hallucina'
tion would probably eventuate in a complete
cute. -.r .
It is not easy to persuade the world that all
i drunkenness is not voluntary. The law does
1 not recognize dipsomania. It treats all in1
ebriates alike. This seems to be unjust, alI
though it is hard to say wkere the line should
j be drawn between free-will excess and that
, which proceeds from an uncontrolable maj
nia. ? Toledo Blade.
WHO 8TANDS THE CASH?
' : "Who pays the bills? Who feeds the ^
drunkard's children? Who provides for the
KpAlron.hoitrhpH Wlfp9 Who S11IV
ui uunai u ry utvnvu uvu* ?vm ......
: ports tiie beggarly tramps, who, having
i wasted their money in drink, wander about
the country? Who repairs the losses caused
! by the failure of intemperate merchants and
reckless and half-intoxicated business men?
Who makes good the damages caused by the
; blunders of drunken workmen and the hinj
drance of business caused by sprees of inj
temperate emplojesV Who pays for the rail!
roaa wrecks caused by drunken conductors
I and engineers? Who builds ehe asylum
where the crazy drunkards are kept? "Who
supports the idiotic children ot drunken
parents? Who pays the attorneys and jurie6
: and judges to try drunken criminals? Who
I pays the expenses of trials and commitments
and executions occasioned by the
crimes of drunken men? Who pays for the
property destroyed and burned by drunken
men? Who builds and supports almshouses,
| which but for drink might remain unoccupied?
I Who endures the sufFeri* ? and losses and brutality
which are due to the recklessness and*,
insanity of drunken husbauds and fathers?"**
; Who pays for the inquests held on drunkards j
I found dead by the wayside? Who pays for a .1
j pauper's coffin and for digging a drunkard's J
grave in the potter's field, when the last glass
Has been drunK;'
Who pays the bills? The drunkard cannot,
for he has wasted his substance in the cup.
Will the rumseller pay them? The fact is.
you and I, the sober, industrious toiling portion
of the community must meet all these
bills. The drunken rowdy, wounded in the
street fight, is cared for in the city hospital
at our expense; the drunken beggar is fed
from our table; his hungry children come to
our dooi^s for bread, and we cannot refuse assistance
to his suffering wife; and when at;
last, having wasted his substance m riotous
living, he comes to the almshouse, the asylum,
the hospital or the prison, honest, sober,
temperate men pay the Dills for supporting
him there. There is no escaping it. We may
protest, we may grumble at taxes, aud find
fault with beggars, but ultimately and inevitably
we must foot the bills.?The Ecamjf
list.
TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES.
It has been resolved to form a National
Union of British Temperance Choral Societies.
Temperance teaching in the Stat* schools
of Victoria, Australia, has been made compulsory.
The retail liquor traffic is now prohibited
in seventy-nine municipalities of the province
of Manitoba.
The W. (.'. T. I", of Mississippi has received
... ? tokMi affairil
il gUt ^CMnnj uy >ui?u iu.vw. ?.>.?. ?
sermon in behalf of its work, delivered at
Meridian by Sam Jones.
The new State headquarters of the Pennsylvania
U* i'. T. 1'. have been formally
dedicated and opened. The rooms are in a
new and handsome building on Arch street,
Philadelphia.
The Woman's Christian Temperance Unionthe
Independent Order of Good Templars
and the Prohibition party of Nebraska have
formed a triple alliance to work for the State
Prohibition amendment. ? _
Mrs. S. K. (irubb. Superintendent of W- '"
T. I", work anion? foreigners.!* now publishing
her tracts in fourteen different lan ? *
guages. She has begun to issue these tracts
as semi-monthly temjierance talks, ten thousand
at an issue.
The Commissioners of the District of Columbia
have asked Congress to pass a Sunday ,
law for the District of Columbia, and the
President approves then- request. Hon. W. C.
P. fy-eckinridge, of Kentucky, will intro1
duce such a bill and the American Sabbath A
Uulvii ivilt a M