The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, March 05, 1890, Image 2
SECRETS.
Whars is the dearest place to lie?
The very best place to laugh or cry?
In the whole wide world, from east to west,
The safest, warmest, coziest nost?
Only the babies know?
The glad, glad babies kuow!
What is more precious to have and to hold?
Worth more than its weight in rubies or gold?
The fairest, purest, loveliest thing
That earth can give and heaven can bring?
Only the mothers know?
The glad, glad mothers know!
??jinma O*. ucwa% in zouwj jl evjne.
A LITTLE MAVERICK,
All that hot August day there had
beeu a cloud of dust in the east like a
column of smoke. No breath of air
stirred it, nor did it seem to advance a
yard. The sky was a steely blue, the air
quivered like the white heat from a cauldron
of molten metal. In the crisp and
dry buffalo grass myraid insect life gave
to the simmering air a dreamy, monotonous
sound like the humming of far-away
bees.
The afternoon passed, darkness gathered,
and with the rising moon came a
cool wind from off the snow-crested
peaks. The cloud of dust subsided, and
revealed a liue of moving, white-covered
wagons.
As the caravan drew near, a gaunt
prairie wolf rose suddenly out of the
o:rass, gave a long, dolorous howl, and
fled across the plain. After him, as if
fchej had risen from the earth by magic,
went a pony and rider, a bronzed, grizzled'
old man, as gaunt, aud evidently dreading
the new-comers as much, as the wolf.
The caravan, numbering thirty wagons,
went into camp in the form of a hollow
jquare, the people aud animals iuside the
barrier of wagons. The sound of voices,
the smell of cooking, the laughter of
;hildren and the red glow of the camp6res
made a bit of welcome life- in the
joletnu land, breaking the soundless
monotony of centuries.
Later, when the fires were low, and
when the only noises were the champing
of the animals and the tread of the sentry
5n watch, a strange, elfish figure ran out
of the stockade and began to dance in
the moonlight?a girl of twelve or thereabouts,
with big, sparkling eyes and short,
black curls flying over her pretty brow.
A. bearded face was thrust out under a
wagon cover, and a gruff but not unkindly
voice called:
"Como in here, you Maverick, want
the Injuus to git ye?"
The child laughed mockingly, and
continued her dance. After the third
:all the big man jumped out of the wagon j
ind ran after her. When she could run
qo longer she dropped like a log, re- j
tnaining stiff and still, while he carried
her to the wagon.
"Gritty, ain't she, inarm?" he said, a3 j
the child rolled over like a stick of wood, j
The ludy addressed was a tall, thin i
?%nr:An TxritVi o -wrl n Irl OfJ fnr?p ftllrtrn !
r,guu ? 1- I
eyes behind &peetac!cs, corkscrew curls,
and a habit of wearing little shoulder j
capes in the hottest weather. Sue was a i
New England school teacher going West
to better herself.
44 'Gritty' i3 Western, I presume, Mr.
Chase," said the lady, Mis3 Mary Ann
Roed. "What on earth do you call her
a Maverick for?" Miss Reed clicked her
needles viciously. She knitted all day,
jolting in a corner of the wagon, a picture
of martyrdom.
4'In my kentry, Texas," said Chase,
4'they calls them stray young cattle that
don't git branded Maverick's: they don't
blong to no herd, an' them that finds
gits 'em."
"She'# got folks in Denver,"said Miss
Reed. I
4'I dun no," whispered the man, with
an anxious look toward the sleeping
child. "A. feller that met me two days
ago on the cast-bound wagon-train told
me her pa and ma hed died suddenly, an'
the children hed scattered, an' he'd
never heered o' Janet at all. Her
gran'marm hed kep' her from a baby, an'
the old lady dyin', Janet's uncle jest
AAT tr\ wliArn Vinr
folks was livin'. Don't seem nobody to
take her."
"Why didn't you send her back with
these folks?" asked Miss Reed.
"'Cause they was only harf way, an'
was short for grub; the? wouldn't take
her."
Yet the Maverick was a great pet on
the journey. Every one liked her, and
wolcomed her bright presence to their
wagons. Around the catnp firea even
the men gathered to hear her sing the
quaint old h^tan3 her grandmother had
taught her. She held tired babies till
her little arms were numb, she told
stories to weary children, and was a
ministering angel at every wagon?at the j
last one in the train most of all.
This wagon had joined the train in j
Missouri, aad belonged to an uufortunate
family that Chase called "Ph:cs." The
father, a sullen, sickly man, drove the
four lean oxen; the mother, haif-dead
from malaria, seldom lifted her head from
her bed; and the uine children, practical**
ornhans. took care of themselves, and of*
a little, motherless girl, seat to her father
in Dcnvor.
This baby, Rose, was a merry little
creature of three, beautiful ami winning,
and much liked. But the days were toilsome
ones, and as the Browns had charge
of her, no one interfered, though many of
the party wondered who could have
trustod her with them.
The two younger Browns, homely,
faded iittlo souls, were faithful guardians
over her. The other children were
unruly and rude, but these two seemed
like some good old folks who had lived
out well-rounded lives and beeu translated
l>ack to earth to begin over agaiu.
To these children Janet's presence was
the one happiness of their day, nor
could she could tell stories enough to
satisfy them. Once Janet, coming unobserved,
heard the youngest Pike telling
baby llose, who was cross, one of
her own stories.
- "You soiTerful little thhiirs." criod i
Jauet, "can't you make 'cm up yourselves
of your own?"'
For a week, at night, the sentry at the
stockade saw far-oil, biack, moving
specks ou the horizon, aud weary
aud anxious were the hours of darkness,
early the start, eager the hope
to get on without the attack. Each man
would mutter in the gray dawn, as haggard
and white, he harnessed his team,
"Thank God, another night of peacc, no
Indians yet!"
"Janet," said Chase one morning,
when she came to watch him harness his
team, "ef theni Injuus comtu> an' gits
the better o' us you git on that ore leetle
gray pony, Xance, thar, aa! take Rose
an' set out fur them iow hills cross
thar."
"Nanco likes rac," smiled Juuct, "I.
feed lier my bread."
"All of us like ye, ye Maverick, yer so
chipper alius," Chase said, admiringly, j
"The Iujuns shan't git yc ef we kin help :
it." |i
That day a young wife was sick, and j ]
all the long hours Janet tended the wail- !
ing baby its mother was too ill to care J
for. She looked back at the line of!.
wagons and thought of baby Rose, that[
she loved best of all. j j
"Those good little Pikes will sec to |,
her," she thought, hopefully. But the i two
little Pikes were weary that day? j |
they lay in a strange stupor, those pa- | ]
tlietic guardians ? and no one noted
than. Locked in each other's arms they
lay unheeded, and one was drifting away ,
beyond earthly aid. ]
At the night halt Janet, freed from ]
her charge, ran for Rose. Then the news
flew from wagon to wagon, the child was (
gone and no one had seen her all day. ^
Miss Reed remembered seeing her run- <
ning among the sunflowers at "breakfast- )
time. j
"Ain't nobody going tor neri " cnca
Janet, in agony. She ran to each wagon,
to be met with the same answer: "It
cannot be done." ^
"You sec, Janet,'* said Chase, a sob in (
his voice, "there's fifty women an' chil- ^
dren here an' only thirty men to guard (
'em; there may be hundreds of Injuns out
there. "We daren't leave camp or they'll ,
know it, an' we'vo searched all the plains
with a glass an' there's no sign of ^
her." j
"But ter-morrer?" choked Janet.
"She'll not be a-wanderin', missy ?
don't arsk me to tell ye, but there's In- j
juns an' perarie wolves."
"We rau3t only tell her father she ^
died?never the whole truth," said Miss ,
Ileed, coming to the wagon for her rubbers,
which she wore on the dryest f
uights. f
Chase walked away and sat do wn by the j
fire. "No, don't talk no more, Jauct," ^
as the child went to him, "it aren't no
use. I'm the only old Injun fighter in
camp. I've growed gray at it. I've got (
ter take the lead."
Janet went quickly to her wagon. By j
the light of a flickering candle she
printed, in a round, childish hand, oaa
bit of paper, these few words:
"Mr. Chase, I am goin' to find Rose an' 1
take Nance. I aint no good in fightin' Injuns, v
an' I hoard you say my folks was doad. ,
Don't vou come for me 'cause thoy need you. *
They don't me that is only a Maverick.
"Janet."
She pinned this note to his blanket, t
then went softly out in the starlight to f
? i xr
cue corner waere nauue stuuu. i-tmlessly
she blanketed the animal, fastened g
the surcingle, then led her quietly out to t
an open space between two wagons.
She looked back at the dying camp- <
fires, the groups of men sleeping in the 1
light of them, their guns by their sides, i:
the silhouettes of the women against the
wagon curtains, Miss Reed's prim and c
queer with the funny curls. IIow safe e
it was here, how lonely and dreadful L
outside! She climbed on the pony and c
turned her head toward the cast; the y
animal, thinking of her home, struck into 1*
a run. The sentinal saw Nance disappear
in the darkaces, but did not note p
the little rider. v
"That onery gray pony as aint been 1
worked all the way hey got loose an' v
gone," he said to the crowd of excited (
men who ran out at the noise.
Every unusual rattling of gravel under
Nance's hoofs quickened the beating of
Janet's heart; every dark object was to
Vior n hrviaf nf ovf>rr srv.ind. thf! ?
coming of the red racu. She thought of r
the old-time stories of Indian warfare e
and cruelty her grandmother had told 0
her; of the horrors of the plains the men ?
spoke of by the camp-fires. 11
"Buc I'm the only one in all that train a
as hasn't anybody to care for ins," she S1
said, bravely. "There was only me to 0
be spared." v
When the moon rose it showed her no P
living object on the great plains. The
camp was far out of vision, and not even
a spark from its fire3 glimmered on the v
still air. Absolute quiet and solitude;
the world seemed asleep. e
At the top of a little rise in the road S
Janet halted to rest her tired horse, and n
once more to look around the lonely '
land. The quivering of Nance startled 11
lier, and peering ahead, Janet saw a sight .
she never afterward forgot. 11
There in the moonlit road stood baby j n
Rose, her yellow curls dishevelled, her
face tear-staiucd and dirty, her gown 0
torn, her little foet bare aud bleeding. S:
She still cluncr to her flowers that had led *!
her astray long hours before.
Near the child a lean gray wolf sat on ' '
his haunches, regarding her with a pro- j s,
found and melancholy stare.
At the sight of the pony the wolf gave
a weird howl, turned and trotted swiftly "
across the plains. The child,with a wild 0
cry, nm forward. ?
' I knew you'd turn, Janic. I lost all l!
day an' hungy an' the doggie corned an*
singed. I had a doggie once, Bounce, S
where mamma was. Oh, I want my ll
mamma!" u
Janet held her close, kissed her tears ^
away, and then she gave her the food she ^
had brought?her own supper. She J?
lifted her to the pony's back, led Nance !
to some low hill3 that might give them
shelter, and there waited for daylight. 0
UI never knew night* wa3 so long be- ?
fore!" sighed Janet, holding Rose iu her
arms. "Nance is laid down an' asleep. 11
Only me awake, au' I must keep watch ^
for wolves an' Injuus. Now the moon's
goin', too, an' it gets lonesoiner. I'll *
o.??t oil fKa Twnina T know kl'Pn
"J ? r |
awake an' brave." ?
Try as sho would her head would J (
droop, the word3 grow confuscd and i 0
weary. As the moou sank and the chill j w
increased. the shivering child covered j S(
Hose with her owu skirt, and then to j v
keep warm and awake walked up and j P
down beside her. ?
What was it, that low, trampling I
sound, coming louder and nearer so fast? j u'
Janet caught up Rose and ran back to the i o!
hill; the horse followed, trembling in jtl
every limb. Just beyoud the hill iu a j V
r*a m r* a m;ica nf Namjo? nnH I
1U11UUO gauup VMUIV ? w. *
dimly amid the fog of dust nbout tliem j
Jauet saw the form* of tueir Indiau
riders. i Is
'.Joe said Injuns was wu^s'ii wolves!" : c;
?obbcd Janet. "Dear Lord, let them go ai
on an'not find us!" u
The Indians pa33ed on their path, V
marked by cloud3 of sand that helped I!
the darkness mercifully to hide the chil- t!
dron. ti
"They're gone!" cried Janet; but p
hardly were the words uttered when si
there came another louder trampling, the g
click of arms against saddles, and more si
horses?hundreds of them it seemed to Li
Janet?and then, bringing joy to her h
heart, an American voice calling: "For- c
ward 1" as the cavalrymen pressed on af- a
ter the Indiam. ""^""-4 a
The danger having passed, the tired
child fell asleep with Rose ia her arms.
When she woke it was bright sunlight
Her dazed eyes saw Nance feeding neai
by, Rose running toward her, and an oldish i ^
man, with a gray beard and bronzed |
face, looking at her kindly. By his side i
was the lean wolf Rosy had called a dog. ;
"I knew it was a tame one!" cried i
Janet.
"In course you did," smiled the old c
nan. "31c an' my gal, Ann Reed, fel!
Dut twenty odd year ago 'causc I owned e
i tame b'ar. She went ter Bosting, ?
turned schoolmarm, aa' I emigrated to T
[owy." ^ f
Janet, very wiae-eyea, Toiunim auuui
Miss Reed, who was one of their wagonparty.
Gaining courage, she also gave
icr own history and Rose's a3 far as she
inew.
"Wal, you be a powerful talker!"
:ried the old man. ".Now come eat, an'
;hen we'll ketch up with the caravan.
Say, though, sis, would you say, 'lowin'
;ur age an' my whiskers, Ann Reed aint
o better-lookin' then me!"
"You're both nice for old folks," said
Tanet, politely.
He led them to a dugout in the hills,
vhere they found plenty to eat, and then
-hey set out for the wagons, Janet with
Sosc on Nance, the wolf following the
>ld man's bronco.
"The row last night, sis," he said,
'was Uncle Sam's sojers arter Injuns,
;amc as has been hangin' round yer train. :
SVondcr how them serious ways of Ann I
Seed's would 'a' took with Injuns?"
At night they reached the camping- I
)lacc of the wagons, where there was
jreat rejoicing?CJiase, especially, com- | j
nor often to stroke Janet's curls,and mut- j ,
-O c
er: "Ef you aint a borned hero, I never j j
cnowed one! The stuff of a pioneer I" | ?
Janet's only sadness was that one little i
jravc where the youngest "Pilce" lay; j
he child had died the night before, j
low many nameless gravcs,some pathetic, i
iny ones, there used to be on that great
mthway to the "West! |
"When Janet, with Rose in her arms, :
:limbed into her wagon, tho hermit ap- j
>roachcd and said, mysteriously: "It's 1
he same Ann Reed, sis, an' she's there j
i-pcttiu' that wolf like he were a poodle ;
log. Aint set agin 'em no more."
Two miles from Denver they met a '
torseman so pale and anxious they knew .
rlio ho was even before he called
loarsely:
"Is mv babv with you?"
"Aye, 6hebe," answered Chase, "but j
rc'd met ye with blank faces an' sorrer- |
ul hearts but for Janet here."
Then he told the story, and the father j
;ot down from his horse to kiss her first |
icfore his own child.
"I'm well on, Joe," he said, brokenly. j
'I can do well for her, and you say she
las no one. I will have two daughters
nstead of one." |
"You aint aSIaveriek no more, Janet," i
ried Joe, something shining in his honest !
yes, "an' there aint one of us but will I
iid yc God-speed. Ef ever a lone little '
hild was worth a father's love an' care,
ou be, an' the blcssin' of all us that
:nowed ye goes with ye."
And as she, with Rose and her father,
parted from the companions of the long j
ragon journey, they followed her with
oving, tearful eyes, that little Maverick I
dio had found a happy home.?Youth?a ,
Companion. I
Ti'A Ar^nn'a.Twln-'Prnflnoiiiir Power. ! f
The great scientists and astronomers j ;
oncur in the opinion that only the igno- ; 1
ant common people believe the moon to j J
xercise an influence over human affairs, j
nly to tell us on the next page of mon- ?
trous tides invisibly put in motion and I |
lduced by the very agency sneered at in j i
preceding chapter. That our attendant j
atellite does exert a powerful influence : (
ver our little globe may be inferred from {
:hat we know of its tide-producing s
ower alone. <
As our planet sweeps along at an un- *
(linkable rate of speed, it is drawn to- j (
:ard the moon very perceptibly, enough j ]
a produce tides on opposite sides of the j 1
arth's surface at the same time. If these ! '
reat mountains of water can be put in J fc
lotion by the "pale white orb of night," j c
rhy should we not attribute to it minor j J
iflnonnoQ ftvm thousrh thev be of a de- ! r
? 0~ ? I v
rimental or pestilential character? Deny- j S
ag the truth in the case can never help j f
latters. j c
"But how can the moon be the cause |
f tides in America and in China at tho j s
ime time?" some one says. According j t
o the best authority on tho subject of 1(
ides, that part of the earth's surface J "
rhich is turned away from the moon or ; G
an has a smaller degree of attraction than j ?
lie side next the luminary exerting tho j t!
'pulling" power; thus, in cilcct, leaving ^
Lie water behind, and producing a tide j t<
u the opposite, as well as upon the side !
cted upon directly by the force of grav- , f(
:v. j G
The moon is now 2i0,000 miles away; j j*
- - 1 !-x- 3 fnll no fliftf. I t.
COIUJJ13UJ Jlilil iistiuu^muio bvii C??J vuu, | u
liere was a time when it was only 40,000 j c
liles distant, only one-sixth of what it is j ?
t the present moment. The tides of to- j t
ay average all the way from three to . fi
fty feet. Say that they are now three j '!
jet at the Eads jetties at the mouth of | *
lie Mississippi; what would be the result 1 s]
f the moon being brought five-sixths j d
carer, or back to the old mythical 40,- '
00-mile mark? Instead of tides being j q
irec feet at the mouth of the parent of I ir
ratcrs, they would rise to a height of |
48 feet! The whole of the Mississippi *
'alloy would present the appearance of j5
vast beach; St. Louis would be covered j o
at of eight and the waves forty-eight j
:et high would flow through the streets : aj
f Chicago into Lako Michigan! Tho !
ritcr is not an astrologer, astronomer or j30
>othsayer; he knows nothing of "di- j q
inations" or black art; docs not even j w
rnfnsa to believe that we are on the eve ! si
f a pestilential visitation, but will not J .
cny believing in moon influence. Is ifc j js
ot rational, after all, to give Luna credit i f<
[ having somcthiug to do with our for- ] a
mcs aud misfortunes??St. Louk Us- i ?
ubtic. ' | t(
? j j(
Time Regulated by Bugrle. j b
Every watch and clock on C4ovcrnoi's j n
:lund, New York, is regulated by bugle . ^
ill. Just before noou two cnli3tcd men ti,
re stationed at a point commanding an j?
uobstructcd view of the tower of the : fi
Western Union Building, where the j ^
rnited States Signal Office is. One '*>1 a
bese is the post bugler, the othw a P
ained signalman, eqnipped with a n
owerful field glass. The non-commia- *
oned officer is required to keep his fj
lass fixed upon the time ball. Tho in- j a,
tant it drops he gives tho signal to the j u
iugler, who stands in readiness, and the j r(
ittcr immediately sounds the specified j if
ill, which is heard all over the island, | si
nd there is a general consultation and j ?
djustmoat of watches and clocks. _ *" J a
It
REV. DR. TALMAGE. !
c
(
CHE BROOKLYN JHVI NE S SI7N a
DAY SERMON. S
i:
Subject: "The Glorious Christ." j
c
Text: "He that cometh from above is ?
ibove all."?John iii., 81. ,
The most conspicuous character of history a
teps out upon the platform. The finger j
vhicb, diamonded with light, pointed down t
a Him from the Bethlehem sky, was only : j
atification of the finger of prophecy, the f
4>1?A fln/vnn /-vf rthrAnftlfttrr
lUgei ui jjciica.ugj, uro v,.. ? , .
<he finger of events?all five fingers pointing v
n one direction. Christ is the overtopping , c
igure of all time. He is the vox hnmana in e
ill music, the gracefulest line in all sculp- s
ure, the most exquisite mingling of lights '
ind shades in all painting, the acme of all {
limaxes, the dome of all cathedraled gran- <
lour, and the peroration of all splendid lan- r
fuage. 1
The Greek alphabet is made up of twenty- s
our letters,and when Christ compared Him- t
elf to the first letter and the last letter, the , t
ilpha and the omega, He appropriated i
o Himself all the splendors that you j ]
an spell out either with those two let- , s
ers and all the letters between them. "I I
im the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning I \
ind the end, the first and tho last." Or, if t
rou prefer the words of the text, "above : t
ill." t
What does it mean? It means, after yon ?
rnve piled up all Alpine and Himalayan r
iltitudes, the glory of Christ would nave to i
pread its wings and descend a thousand j f
eagues to touch those summits. Peliorij a (
ligh mountain of Thessaly; Ossa, a high I c
noun tain, and Olympus, a high mountain; I {
mt mythology tells us when the giants [ ^
varred against the gods they piled up these i J
hree mountains, and from the top of them I ^
iroposed to scale the heavens; but the height ; (
vas not great enough, and there was a compete
failure. And after all the giants? .
saiah and Paul, prophetic and apostolic .
fiants; Raphael ana Michael Angelo, artistic <
fiants; cherubim and seraphim and arch- i
ingel, celestial giants?have failed to climb j
o the top of Christ's glory they might ail r
veil unite in the words of the text and say:
'He that cometh from above is above all." i
First, Christ must be above all elso in our
preaching. There are so many books on j
lomiletics scattered through the country f
hat all laymen, as well as all clergymen, c
lave made up their minds what sermons j
mght to be. That sermon is most effectual .
vliich most pointedly puts forth Christ as I
he pardon of all sin ana the correction of all i
)vil?individual, social, political, national. g
L'here is no reason why we should ring the ;
ndless changes on a few phrases. There are t
hose who think that if an exhortation or a <
liscourse have frequent mention of justi- *
ication, sanctifl cation, covenant of c
vorks and covenant of grace, that *
berefore it must be profoundly evangelical, j,
vhile they are suspicious of a discourse /
vhich presents the same truth, but under ^
lifferent phraseology. Now, I say there is t
lothing in all the opulent realm of Anglo- ,
Jaxonism, of all the word treasures that we ?
nherited from the Latin and the Greek and jl
he Indo-European, but we have a right to e
uarshal it in religious discussion. Christ
" >- TSj-JII #mtM
I0IS tQO exarapit?. Xlid liiuauakivno nvjiu uv/iu ^
lie grass, tho flowers, the spittle, the salve,
he barnyard fowl, the crystals of salt, as s
veil as from the seas and the stars; and we Q
lo not propose in our Sabbath-school teach- v
ng and in our pulpit address to be put on the ^
imits. t
I know that there is a great deal said in our (
lay against words, as though tbey were ?
lothing. Tlicy may be misused, but they ;
lave an imperial power. They are the i q
jridge between soul and soul, between Al- j.
nighty God and the human race. What did I "
Jod write upon the tables of stones? Words. I 5
iVhat did Christ utter on Mount Olivet? , P
iVords. Out of what did Christ strike the !
ipark for the illumination of tha universe? | ,
Jut of words. "Let there bo light," and
ight was. Of course, thought is the cargo,
ind words are only the ship; but how fast ' ?
vould your cargo get on without the r
h<p? What you need, my friends, f
n all your work, in your Sabbathchool
class, in your reformatory J
nstitutions, and what we all need is to en- ?
arge our vocabulary when we come to speak ?
ibout God and Christ and heaven. We ride
i few old -words to death when there is such ?
llimitable resource. Shakespeare employed ;
Ifteen thousand different words for dra- |
natic purposes; Milton employed eight thou- ?
and different words for poetic purposes; *
iufus C'hoate employed over eleven thou- J,
;and different words for legal purposes; but *
he most of us have less than a thousand P
vords that we can manage, less than Ave J;
??/! fKaf moL-i?c iic on af.nnirl ^
iUUUlCU, CU1U Vunv LUMobtf WW |
When we come to set forth tnc lore of i ?
Christ we are going to take tenderest I "
jhraseology wherever we find it, and if it .
las never been used in that direction before, | F
ill the more shall we use it. When we i 5
;ome to speak of the glory of Christ, the j f
Conqueror, we are going to draw our similes i ?
from triumphal arch and oratorio and ?
jverything grand and stupendous. The
French navy liave eighteen flags by r,
vliich they give signal, but those *
ighteen flags they con put into sixty-six
housand different combinations. And I *
:ave to tell you that these standards of the ?
toss maybe lifted into combinations infinite i "
md varieties everlasting. And lot me say 11
o these young men who come from the the- | .
logical seminaries into our services every !0
sabbath, and are after a while going to : ?
>reach Jesus Christ, you will have the .61
argeet liberty and unlimited resource. You ?,
inly have topresent Christ in your own way. 1
Jonathan Edwards preached Christ in the 9
everest argument ever penned, and John
lunyan preached Christ in the sublimest al- fj
sgory ever composed. Eclward Payson, sick i n
ud exhausted, leaned up against the side of s]
lie pulpit and wept out his discourse, while p
reorge Whitfield, with the manner and the v
nirv> nnrl tlifi nf an nnfnr overwhelmed *1
is auditory. It would Lave been a different ! v
ling if Jonathan Edwards had tried to r
Tito aud dream about the pilgrim's progress v
j the celestial cily, or John Bunyan had at- 0
jmpted an essay on the human will.
Brighter than the light, fresher than the v
nmtains, doeper thau the seas, are all these d
rospel themes. Song lias no melody, flowers &
ave no sweetness, sunset sky has no color j 0
>mparoa witn mesa glorious themes. Thp.se r
arvests of grace spring up quicker than wo | ?
an sickle them. Kindling pulpits with r!
boir fire, and producing revolutions with
heir power, lighting up (lying beds with r
heir glory, they are the sweetest thought f
9i- the poet, and they are the most thrilling S
llustration for the orator, aud they offer ^
lie most intense scene for the artist, *
nd they are to the embassador of tho I ?
ly all enthusiasm. Complete pardon for 5
irest guilt. Sweetest comfort for ghastly ?
gony. Brightest hope for grimmest death.
Irandest resurrection for darkest sepulchre. a]
>h, what a Gospel to preach 1 Christ over all j(
i it. His birth, His suffering, His miracles,
[is parables, His sweat, His tears, His blood, w
[is atonement, His intercession?what glo- n
ious themes! Do we exercise faith? Christ w
i its object. Do we have love? It fastens ?(
u Jesus. Have wo a fondness for the church? j,
; is because Christ died for it. Have wo a ^
ope of heaven? It is because Jesus went ..
liefirL the herald and the forerunner.
The royal rob? of Demetrius was so costly. ^
t beautiful, that after he had put it off no J
lie ever dared put it on; but this robe of "
hrist, richer than that, the poorest and the *
anuest and the worst may wear, "Where
n abounded grace may much more abound." ^
"Oh, my sius, my sins," said Martin Luther "
> Staupitz, "my sins, my sinsl" The fact
i, that the brawny German student had
nind a Latin Bible that made him quake, ^
nd nothing else ever did make him quake; "
ud when he found how, through Christ, "
a was pardoned aud saved, lie wrote ^
) a friend, saying; "Come over and "
>iu us great and awful sinners saved J1
? nrro?> of finrl Von sppm be
ily a slender sinuer, a?d you don't ^
luch extol the mercy of God; but we that Cl
avo been such very awful sinners praise His
race the more now that we have been re- w
?e:nod." Can it bo that you are so des- w
jrately egotistical that you feel yourself in a
rst rate spiritual trim, and that from the jsot
of the hair to the tip of the toe you are ^
?arless and immaculate? What you need is ^
looking glass, and here it is in the bible. x
oor, and wretched,and miserable, and blind, g
nd naked from the crown of the head to the a
)le of the foot, full of wounds and putrefying y
)res. No health in us. And then take the ^
ict that Christ gathered up all the notes j
gainst us and paid them, and then offered Cl
s the receipt. p
And how ranoh we need Him in our sor- h
dws ! "We are independent of circumstances i<
' we have His graco. Why, He made Paul a
ng in the duageon, and under that grace n
t. John from desolate Patmos "heard the a
last of the apocalyptio trumpats. AftoT g
11 other oandles have been snr^rfed oat, this jj
i the light that gets brighter^ and brighter t
a
*' : y.
into the perfect day; and after, under the
lard hoofs of calamity, all the pools of
vorldly enjoyments have been trampled into
leep inire, at the foot of the eternal rock the
Christian, from cups of granite lily rimmed
md vine covered, puts out the thirst of his
ouK_ _ ...
Again, I remark, that Christ is above all
n dying alleviations.
X nave not any sympathy with the morbidly
abroad about our demise. The Emperor
>f Constantinople arranged that on the day
if his coronation the stone mason should
ome and consult him about the tombstone
hat after a while he would need. And there
ire men who are monoiuaniacal on the subect
of departure from this life by death, and
ho more they think of it the less they are
>repared to go. This is an unmanliness not
worthy of you, not worthy of mo.
Saladin, the greatest conqueror of his day.
vhile dying, ordered that the tunic he had
>n him be carried after his death on his spear
it the head of his army, and that then the
oldicr, ever and anon, should stop and say:
'Behold, all that is left of Saladin, the Em>eror
and conqueror! Of all the States he
ronquered, of all the wealth he accumulated,
lotliing did he retain but this shroud." I
iave no sympathy with such behavior, or
uch absurd demonstration, or with much
hat we hear uttered in regard to departure
'rom this life to the next. There is a comnonsensical
idea on this subject that you and
[ need to consider?that there are only two
tyjesof deDartuce..
"K IKouSancTfeeF'underground, by light of
orcli toiling in a miner s shaft, a ledge of
ock may fall upon us, and we may die a
niner's cleath. Far out at sea, falling from
he slippery ratlines and broken on the halyards,
we may die a sailor's death. On
nission of mercy in hospital, amid broken
K>nes and reeking leprosies and raging
evers, we may die a philanthropist's death.
)n the field of battle, serving God and our
sountry, slugs through the heart, the gun
larriage mar roll ogee us~ and to tnajidie a |
iafcrfotfs deatST~ But, after all. there are j
4-w/> crf.olao r\P /larvarfuro ino Haofli rtf
;he righteous and the death of the wicked?
ind we all want to die the former.
God grant that when that hour comes you
nay be at home. You want the hand of j
rour kindred in your hand. You want your ;
:hildren to surround you. You want tho I
ight on your pillow from eves that have |
ong reflected your love. You want the
oom still. You do not want any curious ,
trangers standing around watching you. |
Zou want your kindred from afar to near |
our last prayer. I think that is the wish of |
ill of us. But is that all? Can earthly j
riends hold us up when tho billows ,
if death coma up to tho girdle? Can i
mman voice charm opeu heaven's ,
'ate? Can human hand pilot us
hrough tho narrows of death into I
loaven's harbor? Can any earthly friendhip
shield us from the arrows of death, and :
n the hour when Satan shall practice upon j
is his infernal archery? No, no, no, no I |
Uas! Poor soul, if that is all. Better die in j
he wilderness, far from tree shadow and
rom fountain, alone, vultures circling I
hrough the air waiting for our body, un- j
mown to man, and to have no burial, if only j
Jhrist could say through the solitudes: "I
vill never leave thee, I will never forsake
hee." From that pillow of stone a ladder
rould soar heavenward, angels coming and
;oing; and across the solitude and tne oar- j
enness would come thd sweet notes of lieavnly
minstrelsy. !
Gordon Hall, far from home, dying In the j
loor of a heathen temple, said: "Glory to I
hee, 0 God I" What dia dying Wilber force I
ay to his wife? "Coma and sit beside me, !
,nd let us talk of heaven. I never knew j
rliat happiness was until I found Christ." j
Vhat did dying Hannah More say! "Togo
0 heaven, think what that is! To go to I
)hrist, who died that I might livo! Oh, I
;lorious grave! Oh, vrhat a glorious thing it j
1 to die? Oh, the love of Christ, the love of !
'hrist!" What did Mr. Toplady. the ereat ;
ymnmaker, say in his last hour? "Who can ;
measure the depths of the third heaven? Oh, i
he sunshine that fills my soul! I shall soon
io gone, for surely no one can livo in this j
rorid after such glories as God has manicsted
to my soul"
What did the dying Jane way say? "lean j
s easily die as close my eyes or turn my j
ead in sleep. Before a few hours have passed j
shall stand on Mount Zion with the ono !
iundred and forty and four thousand and '
fith the just men made perfect, ami we (
hall ascribe riches, and honor, aud glory,
nd majesty, and dominion unto God and j
he Lamb." Dr. Taylor, condemned to burn I
t the stake, on his way thither broke away !
rom the guardsmen and went bounding and j
eaping and jumping toward the fire, glad to ;
;o to Jesus and to die for Him. Sir Charles j
laro, in last moment, had such rapturous |
ision that he cried: "Up- ;
rard, upward, upward!" And so i
Teat was the peace of one of |
:hrist's disciples that he put his
ngers upon tne pulse in his wrist and i
ounteditana observed it; ana so greac was
is placidity that after a whilo ha said: j
'Stopped I" and his life had ended hereto j
egin in heaven. But grander than that was I
bo testimony of the worn out first mis- J
ionary, when, in the Mamartine dungeon, !
e cried: "I am now ready to be offered,and '
he time of my departure is at hand. I have ;
ought the good fight, I have finished my j
ourse. I have kept the faith; henceforth ' t
here is laid up for me a crown of righteous- (
ess, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, j
rill give me in that day, and not to mo
nly, out to all them that love His appear- 1
igl" Do you not see that Christ is above
11 in dying alleviations?
Toward tho last hour of our earthly resi- j
ence we are speeding. When I see tho sun- I ,
Bt, I say: "One day les3 to live." When I ! ,
so the spring blossoms scattered, I say: "An- j i
ther season gone forever." When I close : ;
his Bible on Sabbath night, I say: "An- ! j
ther Sabbath departed." When I bury a j j
riend, I say: "Ano^er earthly attraction ; ,
one forever." What nimble feet the years j'j
ave! The roebucks and tho lightnings ruu , ,
ot so fast. From decade to decade, from ; ,
Icy to sky, they go at a bound. There Is a j ,
lace for us, whether marked or not, | (
rhere you and I will sleep the last j ,
leep, and the men ire now living j j
rho will, with solemn trad% carry us to our
esting place. Ay, it is known in heaven ' |
whether our departure w/Q be a coronation I ,
r a banishment.
Brighter than a banqueting hall through | j
rhich the light feet of the dancers go up and j
own to the souud of trumpeters will be the i j
Bpulcher through whose rifts the holy light > ,
f heaven streameth. God will watch you. j
[e will send His angels to guard your slum* j ,
ering ground, until, at Christ's behest, they j {
ball roll away the stone. i
So, also, Christ is above all in heaven. The '
lible distinctly says that Christ is the chief j 1
heme of the celestial ascription, all the j
hrones facing His throne, all the polma ,
raved before His face, all the crowns down .
t His feet. Cherubim to cherubim, sera- >
him to seraphim, redeemed spirit to re-1 f
eomed spirit, shall recite the Saviour's earth* j *
T sacrifice I I
tftaud 011 some liign Mil ot Heaven, ana in | f
11 the radiant sweep the most glorious ob- ; 1
>ct shall be Jesus. Myriads gazing on the 1
iars of His suffering, in silence first, after- fl
ard breaking forth into acclamation. The ?
larfeyrs, all the purer for the flamo through f
hich they passed, will say: "This is Jesus,
>r whom we died." The apostles, all the '
appier for the shipwreck and the scourging c
trough which they went, will say: "This ?
; the Jesus whom wo preached at Corinth,
nd at Cappadocia, and at Antioch, and at
orusalom." Little children clad iu white
ill say: "This is the Jesus who took us in J
r:~ iic onrl whon fliA I J
LI>> III ill> UUU. utcaowu uo, uuu > mv*>
torins of the world were too cold and load, *
rought iu into this beautiful place." The '
mltitudesof the bereft Bill say: "This is
ho Jesus who comforted us when our heart <
roke." Mauy who wandered clear off from f
rod and plunged into vagabondism, but c
-ore saved by grace, will say: "This is tho ?
esus who pardoned us. "Wo were lost on v
jo mountain?, and He brought as homo, f
ifo were guilty, and He has made us white j1
s snow." Mercy boundless, grace unparal- u
>led. And tlieu, after each one has recited t
Lj peculiar deliverances and peculiar mer- o
ies, recited them as by solo, ail tho voices
ill come togetlior into a great chorus, v
rhich will make tho arches echo and re-echo a
1th the eternal reverberation of ghulaess
nd peace and triumph.
Edward I was so anxious to go to tos Holy
>aud that when he was about to expiro ho i
equeathed ?100,000 to have his hoart, after
is decease, taken to the Holy Land in Asia 1
Llnor, and his request was complied with. .
iut there are hundreds to-cVy whose hearts *
re alroady in the Hvly Land of heaven, i
Inhere your treasurer are, there are your *
earts also. Quaint John Banyan, of whom '
spoke at the opening of tho dis- {
surse, caught a glimpse of that
lac?, and in his quaiut way
e said: "And 3 heard ia my dream, and i
*1 the bells o? tho citv rang again for joy;
nd as thoy opened the gates to let in trie
ien I lookod in after them, and lol the city ,
bone like the sun, and there wore streets of c
old, and men walked on them, harps in their t
lands, to sing praises withal; and after that .
hey shut up the gates, which when I bod
een I wished raya?U among thamr - j
RELIGIO USJIE ADING.
A PRAYER.
God of the mountain, God of the storm,
God of the flower, God of the worm!
Hear us and bless us,
Forgive us, redress us!
Breathe on our sp.rits Thy love and Thj
healing,
Teach us content with Thy fatherly dealing,
Teach us to love Thee,
To love one another, brother his brother;
And make us all free ?
Free from the shackles of ancient tradition,
Free from the censure of man for his
neighbor,
Help us each one to fulfil his true mission,
And show us 'tis manly, 'tis godlike, to
labor!
God of the darkness, God of the sun, ,
God of the beautiful, God of each one?
Clothe us and feed us,
Illume us and lead us;
Show us that avarice holds us in thrall,
That thfe land is all Thine, and Thou givesfc
to all.
Scatter our blindness;
Help us do right, all the day and the night;
To love mercy and kindness;
Aid us to conquer mistakes of the past;
Show us our future to cheer us and arm
us,
The upper, the better, tho mansions Thou
hast;
And, God of the grave, that the grave
cannot harm us.
?J. R. Orion.
8ZLF-DEKIAL.
A little box came into a missionary col- I
lection inscribed with the singular words,
" 'Tis But." It was from a lady who had
never felt that she could do much for missions.
But she had been accustomed to buv
a IL1UIIJ uuugo IUI liCloCll WI1IUI1 OUO
did not absolutely need, saying, "'Tis but
a dollar." or '"Tis but a trifle." This year
she determined, when so tempted, to put
her "'tis buts" into the missionary box; and
it surprised her to find that they amounted
to one hundred and fifty dollars.
CALLOUSED CONSCIENCES.
In a world of sin and death pain is a
blessed and merciful appointment. A man
has a broken leg, the surgeon has set it, and
though he writhes and screams, his physician
is calm, and placid; he sajTs "the leg is
doing well," By and by the pain ceases
and the man settles down in quiet: it
does not distress him any more; and tnen
the surgeon is alarmed and says that leg
must come off; mortification is setting in.
Just so there are many men whose ease
and contentment of mind is. the saddest
feature in their cases; it is the' insensibility I
_c ~ l _i. r* .1 i l i s ? Ta.
ui a suui aiupeueu anu uenumuea Dy sin; it
is the apathy of death. So long as conscience
pricks, and the soul is restive, un- !
liappv, discontented and ill at ease, there is
hope;" but when all this is passed and people
settle down in content, stupid and stolid,
then death is doing its work. "Woe also to
theiu when I depart from them." Hosea
9: 12.?Common l cople.
take your hands out of todtt pockets,
yot;..g man.
To begin with, it does not look well when
a young man crooks his arms and thrusts i
his hands into his pockets, making a figure
eight of himself, and then stands up against
the sunny side of the house, like a rooster
in December.
How would the girls look, all turned into
eights and leaning against the wall? How
would your mother look in that posture?
Catch her doing it! You don't find her
hands in her pockets. Your mother's hands!
While you are loaling, they are the hands
that sew, and bake, and stew, and fry and
sweep, and darn, and nurse, but she does
not sink tliPiu in her rockets and then loll
against a building.
Are your hands cold? Warm them up at
the end of the hce handle and scythe.
Swing the hammer; drive the plane; flour- j
isli the axe. There is untold caloric about
the spade, trowel and wrench.
Take your hands out of your pockets,
young man. You are losing time. Time is
valuable. People feel it at the other end of
the line, when death is near and eternity I
pressing them into such small quarters,
for the work of this life craves
hours, days, weeks, years. If
those at thi3 end of the line of youth
with its abundance of resources would only
feel that time was precious. Time is a
quarry. Every hour may be a nugget of
gold. It is time in whose invaluable moments
we build our bridges, spike the iron
rails to the sleepers, launch our ships, dig
our canals, run our factories. You might
have planted twenty hills of potatoes while
l nave been talking to you, young man.
Take your hands out of your pockets.?
Christian Banner.
i
ALWAYS Ol'EX.
Tlie words "always open" are conspicuously
placed in the front window of a
telegraph office on Broadway, New York.
The announcement carries a deeper meaning
than the mere unthinking observer may
comprehend. At any hour, night or day,
messages may be received for any part of i
the globe; operators are constantly in wait- I
ing; electric currents, batteries highly j
charged, instruments of most delicate con- j
struction, are in readiness to transmit
thought as on the wings of swiftest light- ,
ning. No one accustomed to deposit mes- j
$ages there doubts the possibility of touching j
[he farthest portions of the earth. An j
unswer is coiwiaently awaited. The tallest j
intervening mountains, the widest, deepest
seas, are as nothing. Having written his ;
communication, the sender goes forth to j
ather engagements, believing without any
question that he has brought himself in
lontact with another soul, and tbat, in duo
:ime, a response will appear.
0, how blind and unbelieving we seem to
ie when we enter the loftier spiritual realm, !
lnd seek to apply these principles? High I
ibove the gateway of prayer, are written in ?
mperishable characters, Always Open. The ;
Author of our being invites usr-yea, even j
jeseeches us?to hold sweet communion j
,vith Himself. The provisions of grace by :
vhich this contact may become real and j
asting are never subject to interruptions for j
he sincere seeker. In dark days or sunny !
here can be no obstruction in this inter:ourse,
only such as arises from our own
m belief.
Oh. think of the perfect arrangement: the
>lood of Jesus sprinkling the*meicy-seat;
lie dispensation of the Holy Spirit arranged j
>y infinite wisdom, with a view to promote j
his fellowship with the Father; all the i
jromises of God?yea and Amen; the testi- j
nony of devout mitids in ull ages proclaim- |
ng the impossibility of failure when we ap>roach
God in true prayer; the character !
,nd covenants of the Almighty pledged to j
uch intercommunication; the adaptation of j
his fellowship to meet the instinctive yearn- j
ngs of the soul for happiness! Consider I
his plan, merciful throughout, tested by j
uillions, always open?not to the few?but |
ilwavs to all. *
It is written, ''To him that knocketh it j
hall be opened." Isaiah foresaw this, and i
ried out, "Thy gates shall be open continu- j
illy; they shall not be shut day nor night."
Niat glorious city, which the revelator de
icribes, is but the perfected type of the |
kingdom of God on earth. Ic i? said that I
'the gales of it shall not be shut at all by j
lay." So it is with hiin that overconieth
hrougli prayer. The gates are wide open )
ontiuually." Is he toiling with his hands )
eeking daily bread.' Ilia heart uplifted to- j
lard God may lind blessed comfort every i
uoment. Is he parsing through overwhelm- !
ng seas of adversity? He may look ?ip and t
lear, ''Behold, I am with thee." 's lie ut- j
crly unable to choose between ccn...n plans
f life that are presented to him? He reads j
rith greutest comfort, "If any of you lack |
fLsdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to !
11 men liberally.''?Vcxrl of Day*.
__ i
Antonf. FR.vrrs, of i'roTincetown,
Vlass.. selected hi-t pillow as a safe j
>lacc for keeping mouev, ami there tie- j
) sited in an envelop. His two*'
re?r-old child found the envelop and j
;liovcd it through an open grate into j
ho fire. There was $290 in bills, which :
rrero destroyed, and a $10 gold piece {
ira3 found :u tho ashes.
At Tucamche, iu Guatemala, the
oys in a school recently seized the
aaster and hanged him W the school- j
1003d, _ . . ? !
. c.vc:
TEMPERANCE. ^
OX A WINEGLASS. fl
A genius nut with a diamond on his own -j?
wineglass these awful words: _ Jj
" Within thLs cup Destruction rides,
And in its depth does Ruin swim;
Around its foam Perdition glides,
And Death is dancing on the brim
DRUNKENNESS IN GREAT BRITAIN.
The official returns recently published of
l lie convictions for drunkenness in England
and Wales, during the four years from 1885
lc 1888 inclusive, show that the total con- ,
victions decreased during the first three
years, falling from 154,601 in 1885 to 139,483
in 1887. In 1888 there was a rise to 156,809. *
fn Wales the proportion is about one conviction
to every 157 of the people. Liverpool
had last year 15,000 eases of drunkenness. '
from a population of a little over ft
million.
A DELUSION. J
Among delusions tbe alcoholic is one of the
most harmful. Dr. Norman Kerr says: "All -
alcohols are poisonous. The least poisonous M
are the alcohols of wine. More poisonous are S
the alcohols of beet-root. Still more deadly W
are the alcohols of corn (all kinds of grain); jfl
and the most potent and pestiferous are the V
alcohols from potatoes. Cider inebriates are .
usually more heavy and stupid than alert
and offensive. Amylic alcohol is nearly
four times as poisonous as ethylic." It a
better to let the poison in either form alone, f I
WHISKY FOR CHILDREN. 9
Rev. C. H. Rust in The Western Christian I
. 1 clvocate gives the following statement about M
i "nickel-in-the-slot" apparatus which he B
says is in use in Cincinnati: jH
"This infernal machine is located upon V
>ome thoroughfare, where children pass to
and fro, as the adjunct of a saloon. It bears
the inscription, in largo and distinct charaoters:
'Put Two Nickels in the Slot, and Get
a Bottle of Whisky.' The Cincinnati police
authorities have unearthed this conspiracy H
against our homes, and it is to be hoped that H
swift and heavy retribution will overtakqM|fl
these human ghouls. When the aforesaidHH|
nickels are drooDed in the slot, a small bottle^BB
of whisky, containing about a gill, falls into
the hands of the expectant children, who are
the chief victims of. this sort of traffic.
"When the saloonists are confronted with
the facts, they effect an injured air of
nocency and claim protection, with brazen
effrontery, for the so-called freedom of a free
land. '1 hose machines are quite plentifnl
'Ovcr-the-Rhine.' Under the very eaves of
our churches these human vampires ply their fll
pestilential trade." . I
PROHIBITION 146 TSARS AGO. I flB
A prohibition speech was delivered by Lord
Chesterfield in the House of Lords in 1743, in
opposition to the license system. Thus it will}
be seen that for ono hundred and fortv-rix; MB
years the English speaking nations have been! Vfl
trying to curb the evils of the drink habit byj ^9
law. Lord Chesterfield said: "Vice, my,
lords, is not properly to be taxed, but to be'
suppressed. Luxury, my lords, may very] ^H|
properly be taxed. But the use of these,
things which are simply hurtful?hurtful in!
their own nature, ana m every degree?is to;
bo prohibited. If their liquors are so de>,^:^|
licious that the people are 'tempted to their,
own destruction, let U3 at lengtii. my lords,;
secure them from these fatal draughts by
bursting the pliials that contain thorn. Let
us check these artists in human slaughter,
which have reconciled their countrymen to
sickness and to ruin, and spread over the pit-'
fnllsof debauchery such baits as cannot bej H
resisted. When I consider, my lords, the ten-;
dency of this bill, I find it calculated only for,
the propagation of disease, tho suppression JH
of industry, and the destruction of mankind.]For
the purpose, my lords, what could havej
beeu invented more efficacious than shops at;
which poison may be vended, poison so praj -Hj
pared as to please the palate, while it wasfceif
the dirongth and kills only by intoxication!"] flB
?Iteason. )
THE P.UM TRADE IN AFRICA. WM
The great curse of tho liquor traffic resttf^^H
upon Africa, and the civilized natioiU'-ftflg^^l
mainly responsible for its existence. NearlyjMM
twelve millions of gallons Of spirituous
liquors go annually from the leading civiluedi^^f
nations, and the native races are fast bdoaHH
demoralized and destroyed through its
Ouence. It is a gratifyiug fact that at theS|H
Horlin r'nnfAi-^ncfl in ISSi the United St&teS?^^^H
through its representatives, united witft^^l
Great Britain, Italy and Belgium in an effort^^^H
to save the Congo country, but the eleven^^H
other powers overruled them. Great Britain^^H
has an able and effective organization in th? t^D
United Committee for the Prevention of
the Demoralization of the Native Races byj^^H
the Liquor Traffic," and the National Tem-JS^H
perance Society and Publication House is
doing what it can to secure action by the
United States Government in the same airec-j
tion. i
The English House of Commons in 188&
unanimously adopted the following reeoiu-! |fl
That this House, having regard to th?'
disastrous physical aud moral effects of the.
liquor traffic among uncivilized races, as well!
as the injury it inflicts on the legitimata
commerce, doth cordially support the Im-i
pcrial and Colonial Government in their en4
deavor to suppress the traffic in spirituous
liquors in all native territories under their1 IHj
influence and control. |
In 18S9 the German Reichstag adopted the m
following: j H|
That the Reichstag resolves to request the
Federal Governments again take into con- IH|
sideratiou whether and how the trade in
spirits in the German colonies can be effectually
opposed either by prohibition or
limitation.
The correspondent of the New York Tribuiie
at Brussels, in referring to the Inter-'
national Anti-Slavery Congress recently in
session in that city, notices the movement to
prohibit the traffic in Africa, but seeks to
turn the movement into a "nigh-licenae";
chaunel, but the Native Races Committee,!
as will be seen by their recent memorial,ainis
at the entire suppression of the liquor traffic.
Why should the Africans be cursed with the
high-license system:' They would not only^^Hj
have to pay for the liquor, but for the priyJ^^H
ilrt<r?? of .vflint? it. and the trade would^^|H|
moro open,more respectable,more abundi^^^HU
and more deadly in its effects upon the peo^^^^H
The National Temperance Society has me-^^H
morialized both Houses of Congress to take Dfl
prompt and vigorous action, Jand will press
this question upoa the committee now hav- BH
ing it in charge, with the view of securing' ^Hl
some action by our own Governmeut in the
matter.
~ TF.JTPERA.VCE NEWS AND NOTES.
An Inebriate's Home for Women is about H|
to be provided in or near Manchester, Eng.j^H
The London City Mission has twenty-five
missionaries engaged is visiting public
houses. Bfl
i- Sixteen petitions against the liquor evil
were lately presented to the legislative
Council of Cape Colony, Africa, during one
session. EH|
The C'omte do Flandre, heir-apparent to I9flj
the throne of Belgium, is Honorary President
of a Brussels society called "The
Patriotic League A gains 5 Alcoholism."
The New South Wales Alliance has pledged
1G,357 persons daring the past Ave years.
They have a hall that cost nine thousand
pounds, where they can y on vigorous
A prominent business man in New York HBBj
city recently drank too much wine, wendad^^H
his way home-, brought up in the gutter, and^^H
street thieves relieved him of $750. A costly HH|
drunk.
The policemen of England and Wales, if^^H
brought together, would form a great array.
Tn..? .,5W 'VIC. Vinft.f-AMf.li5 of
army could, bo discharged if tue sale
liquors wero prohibit? I.
The widow of Chief of Folic* AVatkins,
Farsou^, Peuu., killed, while intoxicated, bj^HH
a passing engine, was recently awarded 93,
500 damages, which the saloon-keeper, wbo^^H
sold him the liquor, must pay. j^Hfl
A Milwaukee educator says that in the|^^H
districts in that city where saloons are mostHRBj
numerous, teachers complaiu that many
the scholars are so stupid from drinking
that work on them is almost useless.
The Union Pacific Railway has decided t^H^|
allow no more liquor to be sold in its hotels^QH
In view of the fact that the company owas
large part of the priucip&l hotels along it^^B|
route a great deal of practical prohibition
sure to result. It is thought that as
revenue of a number will he curtailed in con^^BB
sequence they will have tq clOtt and diQis^HB|
cars Uke their places,^
. flj