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WEALTH, FAME. LIFE, DfEATH. What is fame? 'Tis the sun-gleam on t'ao mountain, Spreading brightly ere it llies, 'Tis the bubble cm the fountain. Rising ligfilly ere it dies; Or, if here and there a hero Be remembered through the years, Yet to him the gain is zeroDeath has .stilled his hones and fears. Yet what dangers men will dare If but only in the air May be heard some eager mention of their uarne; ti?..?i, inir if. not themselves, 'tis JIUUUgll " much the same. What i? wealth? 'Tis a rainbow still receding As the panting fool pursue?, Or a toy that youth, unheeding, Seeks the readiest way to lose; But Che wise man keeps due measure, Neither oat of breath nor base; But he-holds iu trust his treasure For the welfare of the race Yet what crimes some men will dare But to gain their 6leuder share In some profit, though with loss of name or health: In some plunder, spent on vices or by stealth What is life? 'Tis the earthly hour of trial "* For a life thafs just begun! When the prize of seK-denial May be quickly lost or won; !Tis the hour when lore may bourgeon To an everlasting flower^ Ur when lusts tfceir victims urge on To defy immortal power. Yet how lightly men ignore All the future holds in store. Spending brief but golden moments all in strife; Or in suicidal madness grasp the knife. What is death? Past its dark, mysterious portal Human eyes may never roam; Yet the hop's still springs immortal That it leads the wanderer home. Oh. the bliss that lies before us When the secret shall bo known. And the vast angelic chorui Sounds the hymn before the throne! What is fame, or wealth, or life? Past aro pratseg, fortune, strife; All but love, that lives forever, cast beneath, When the good and faithful sen-ant takes the wreath. ?London Academy. A LION AT LARSE. BY S. A. WEISS. The stage-coach which twice a week passefl through Five-Forks was later than usual this morning. The few people of both sexes who had come in from the surrounding farms for letters and parcels wete gathered about the postoffice and blacksmith's sho-^ discussing somewhat excitededly the latest local topic of interest. "I know it for a fact," said a burly farmer in mud-bespattered leggings, "seeing I was over at Beaver Junction when it happened. Two of the freight cars jumped the track and smashed a couple o' circus cages. There warn't much trouble with the b'ar and hayena, butthe lion tuck te (he woods, and the lastlheeruo' him he waa makin' tracks down this way." "Then you ain't hecrd that he wa3 caught last night?" said another. "I -- know it for sartin, for a lot o' the circus folks passod toy my brother Sam's farm with the critter in a wagon just cz the <aioon riz." "Arftcr he'd killed Widdcr Giles's cow and a lot o* hogs in the 6crub," added a third. "Likely as not he's got loose ag'in, aW "Mra Clamor Vinnrr? q fiirriiKln AVI Vtu OSJklkJ* VI** jfVl UVViU U WliU>/IU roaria' in the woods jest before daylight this morninV ''Maybe she never heerd Jones's black bull before, bellering down in the medder4" remarked some one, drily." "But Jones found a couple o' his sheep killed l?st night. It mought 'a been dorgs; but Jones says it looks mighty like lion's work." "Shucks I What does he know about lion^ work? Couldn't tell a lion from a Bea serpent if he was to see 'era." Just here the 6tago-coach appeared iu Bight, and presently deposited a solitary passenger in front of the postoftice. He was a tall, slim and rather supercilious-tookrag young man, aftired in garments of the latest cut and wearing a gorgeous necktie, on which was conspicu -1 _ _ J _ 1 ? 3 ?i.t_ .1 oubiy percuuu. an opui spiucr witu goiuuu legs and diamond oyes. Glancing haughtily around, he inquired of the postmaster whether Doctor Dodd was there to meet him, aud appeared much annoyed when answered in the ne^tivc, and further informed that no conveyauce could be had to the doctor's ?some six miles distant. "Will!" whispered a rosy-cheeked girl, bending from the tall sorrel oa which she was mounted, "that's Mr. Poikins? Kitty Parsons's beau?and ho's comc up to be married. Tknow lie was expected at the Dodda's to-day. Sally Dodd told Nelly so for a secret at meetia' last Sunday. You know Sally's his cousiu, and T,rt TfUi.. " U.1V1U lie IUCI XVUbJ . "He looks like a stuck-up prig," said Will, surveying Mr. Perkins contemptuously. "Anybody can see that the hardest work ho's ever done was measurin* ribbons and caliker. Aud the idea of Kitty Parsons throwing over Dave Cooper for afelier like that!" 'But it wasn't her fault, you know,"' wid tho girl, doprecatingly. "Her father wouW have it so on account of his i::oney. When the old man told Dave hat 'iwasa't any use for hiin to come any more a-courtin' kitty,Dave just answered. ! Iiat ho never meant'to give her up. And tow they're havin' the marriage in this Mieun, sneakin' fashion, for fear that ' Uve *il hear of it aud interfere somehow, titty's Aunt Sabina says Dave hasn't vrit to Kitty since he went away in the bring, and Kitty thinks he's forgotten or, and says she don't care what becomes \ >f hornow." "That's some of old Squire Parsons's i <>rk, IHl bet." said a voun.? man, who i * standing closc to MaUie, i;l'or Dave <1 rat; that he never got an answer to - letters. No doubt her father and aunt j?t 'em back from her. But never :?d, I guess ho'lI have something to do i'li this weddin''before it comes oil." IJ-.it that'll be to-night." suid the giri. ;To-night! You don't mean it, Mattie? Why, I thought 'twas tixed for tomorrow !" "So 'twas; but for some reason they've changed it for to-day. Sally says so." "Je-ru sa-lem! And I wrote Dave that 'twas fixed for Thursday night, and he won't be on hand till to-raurrow morning, wheii it'll be too late. By Jingo! I'd give a hundred dollars down to prevent this marriage till Dave comes 1" The three J^oked at each other ia symA. \ . .. pntbetic dismay, and the girls said, with energy: ' Oh, if that lion would just come along and cat him up!" Her brother Will's face suddenly brightened. He was a stalwart young fellow, with a broad chest, a goodnatured freckled face, and eyes full of j fun. ';By Jinks, Mattie, you've hit it pretty j close! I guess we c:in manage it with | Mungo to help, and he'll do anything for pay in watermelons." rT" 1 -- ? frtTTorrl o Ane two youmen nomu huge colored giant who was lolling in a fec.cc comer, and as they talked to him his immense mouth opened in a laugh which could have been heard half a mile distant. In a few moments lie trotted off briskly up the road, and Will and Mattie, having received their parccls, soon followed, while Hiram approached the forlorn stage passenger. "I see you're in a fix," he said; "and as I've got a vacant seat in my buggy, maybe I can help you a bit. I'm going right past the Dodds's place, and can set you down at the gate as easy as not." Perkins glanced disparagingly at the plain, little, mud-bespattered vehicle dignified with the name bucrgy, bat condescended to accept the offer. And jiroseutlr. after some intentional delay on Iliram's part, they were leisurely jogging along the rough country road. "I suppose you ain'fc afraid of the lion?* Hiram remarked, as, after a mile or two, they approached a thick wood through which the road lay. "Lion! What lion?" inquired Perkins, with a look of sudden interest. And then came out the story of the wild beast which was supposed by some to be roaming about the Five-Forks neighborhood, seeking whom or what he miijht devour. Perkius looked very much startled, and glanced cautiously on each side the ' road and toward the dusky wood. "I should think," he faltered, "that ?aw!?it would not bo safe; that?! ahem!?perhaps we'd better turn back, as I have no pistols; and, in fact, I?I ain't used to lions!" I ' Well, we've come about half way without seeing anything of tho critter, and maybe we might as well go on. If we once get past that holler down there, which is the very place where a lion or a painter would choose to hide, I 6hall I fori rnl'rablc safe. I have a pistol, and? Jerusalem! what's that?" From the rocky hollow in front of them, overshadowed by dense trees, came at this moment a hoarse,muttered sound, like the growl of a wild beast. Perkins turned very pale, and even the spider on bis scarf seemed to change to a livid hue and to tremble on its golden legs. Before ho could say a word the growl had increased to a tremendous roar, and Hiram, as if terror-stricken, wheeled his horse and drove back at a pace which threatened to jolt to pieces his light vehicle. The terrified hor3c needed no urging, and Perkins, pale as death and trembling all over, could barely manage to hold on to the vehicle with both hands, as it bumped and bounced over the rough road. Hiram's face was very red, and he seemed struggling to suppress certain odd gurgling and gasping sounds which threatened to choke him. After awhile they turned off from the main road and dashed into the yard of a small farmhouse on the edge of the wood. It was Wilt Owens's home, and he and one of his brothers rushed to the door, while Mattie, with an apron half hiding her head and face looked timidly from the window. "What's the matter, Hi, for goodness' sake? Seen the lion?" "Just missed him! May be on our track now. Quick, Will! help Mr. Perkins jnto the house, and help me to put away the horse in the woodshed. We'd better make everything straight, for I tell you there's something down yonder in the bottom," "But, oh, Hiram! if that dreadful creature comes to-night he can jump in at the windows! There are no shutters!" cried Mattie, wringing her hands. "Did you hear he had killed Mungo, who lives in the log cabin near the bottom?" said Will. "And if he's once fixed himself in that place, he'll stay there till he's hunted out. | Of course there was no question of Hiram or Mr. Perkins leaving the house that night. About dark, and Jwice during the night, the same awful roar was I heard, once so near the house that Per| kins's blood curdled with horror and he nearly fainted. Others heard it also, and by morning ' the neighborhood was in a state of wild cxciremciu. Xo one would venture off their own ! placcs save a few young men, who, on swift horses, sped to their nearest neighbors, to consult about what was best to be dono in order to rid themselves of the terrible beast. Fearful stories were circulated. One woman, while milking on the previous evening, had seen a lion's head looking over a hedge; and a man, coming through the woods last night, had beheld tho dusky form of the creature, crouched in the fork of a tree, ready for a spring. The only person who manifested an utter disbelief in these stories, and in the presence of tho lion, wa3 Squire Parsons, Kitty's father. The old man had been greatly exercised by the non-appearance of his expected son-in-law, when everything was arranged for the marriage, and the pastor waiting to perform the ceremony. Neither had the Dodds made their appearance?for, in fact, the report of the "lion at large'' had frightened even the old doctor from meeting his kinsman at J Five Forks. The squire had heard of the latters arrival in tlie stage coach, but tho first information :is to his present whereabouts was froui Hiram himself, who, fearing iest ho might proceed to make inquiries at Five-Forks, slipped over early in the moruing. i The squire listened with supreme contempt to the accouut of Perkins's fright ; at tiv Hottoin, and their niruing back, to seek refuge at Will Oweus's. "Look-a-herc, Hiram," he said doggedly, "I don't purfess to be a fool, an* I dou't believe in that ther' lion I I hcDrd the roarin', but it sounded to mo mighty like that ther' Mimgo and his big brother, with a tetch of old Owcns's brass militia horn throwed in. As to Jeeuw Perkins, go and tell him for me | that I'll givo him to twelve o'clock noon | to put in appearaacc; and if ho ain't i hare by that time I'll go over to Owens's I and fetch him in my wagia, lion or no I lion I" Hiram approved of this plan, though i Kitty tearfully opposed it, until he man! aged to -whisper a few words, unheard by the rest. Then i^ was wonderful how her pretty face brightened up, and how she suddenly changcd from tears to smiles. Iliram, having witnessed this transformation, rode away, and was at FiveForks by eleven o'clock, in time to welcome a fine, manly-looking young fellow, whom he cheerily addressed as | "Dave." I Squire Parsons kept his word, and by I noon the expected bridegroom had not j appeared. The old man harnessed his wagon and started off in search of him. But scarcely had he departed when another wagon drove up to the gate, and Kitty, rushing out of the house, was re-, ceived into Dave Cooper's eager arms, lifted into the vehicle, and driven off before the astonished eyes of Aunt Sabina, who stood helplessly wringing her hands on the front wteps. ,l"VVell," said the squire, when on his return he took in the whole situation, [ "it mayn't be so bad to let Kitty have her own way, after all. Money don't pay a woman for having a chicken-hearted fool for a husband, that can't tell bigthroated Mungo and a brass horn from a lion. Let's have some supper, Sabiny, and to-morrer you may as well send that weddin' cake to Kitty and Dave, by the way of helping 'em to begin housekecpin'."?Saturday Night. Parental Affcclions in Eajles. "I see a great deal of talk in the papers every little while," said a man who has built many miles of railroads and contracted for any number of big engineering enterprises, "about the foolishness of having the eagle as the emblem of our country. He is represented as a cowardly, thievish, unintelligent bird, | and any number of other fowls of the I air are put forward as candidates for the I proud position of the Nation's bird. Now I am not an ornithologist, so I am not prepared to argue ov.er the relative merits of the different flyere, and I must confess that the eagle is a thief always and a coward very often, but that he is * 1 f T n?nnVinfin. laCKing ILL JL uuuoi bui^/uu?ivally deny. Let me tell you one llttlo story of him that puts him in a very favorable light." The speaker was one of a little party that had just finished dinner at an uptown hotel a few evenings ago, and hig companions jumped at the chance of hearing an interesting tale over their cigars. "About twenty years ago," he began, "I was engaged in building a big Western road, and one spring day we pitched our camp on the banks of one of the turbulent rivers of the region and settled down for a three months' job on a ravine bridge. A few days later we noticed an eagle's nest perched up the bluff across the river and the following Sunday two of our men swam the stream during the abscnce of the old birds and brought back two vigorous eaglets with them. "We hurriedly patched up a pen of pine slab3 for the captives, making it about seven feet square and leaving lots of space between the slabs on the top and sides, so that we could have a good look at the squalling bunches of feathers. The parent birds came back about noon, and when they found their little ones gone they kicked up a frightful row and flew about in search of them as if they were distracted. When they finally discovered where the eaglets were they circled around in the air over the pen, keeping out of reach of our rifles, and shrieked advice to their chicks about keeping up their spunk and making themselves comfortable as plainly as human beings could. "Then the old birds flew away and came back after a little with two big fish in their talons. They circled and circled around over the pen, and finally let the fish drop straight as a die right between the slabs in the roof. They kept up this nerformance every day for a fortnight, X - _ and never in all that time did they miss hitting the pen with the fish they dropped. Their parental affection and intelligence so worked on us that we put the eaglets back on the other side of the river again, and-I tell you it was really affecting to see the way those two old birds hung around and carcssed their offspring. They seemed to understand attcr that that we were friendly to them, and during the rest of the time we were there they flew all about the camp, and had no Hesitation in cuiihu^uuku iu piun. up the scraps of meat and fish we would throw to them. I can't say that they shed tears over our departure, but I will warrant that they felt the pangs of separation as keenly as we did."?New York Times. Too Much Food. A physician says: "Most persons eat j four times as much as they should." The i proportion seemed pretty large, but an emineut British physician of a former generation said almost the same thing? . that one-fourth of what we eat goes to I sustain life, while three-fourths go to ! imperil it. Another physician wittily J remarked that most peoplo dig their | own graves with their teeth. The founI dation of the habit of ovcr-cating is apt to be laid iu childhood and youth, since the stomach then seems able to bear almost anything. There would be little I danger of eating too much, if the food i were always plain and simple; in that ! ease, the natural appetite would be a safe j and sufficient guide. The trouble is I that the natural appetite is too often | spoiled by cakcs, pies, condiments and , highly seasoued food. Another source of dyspepsia is emotional waste of nerv; ous force. In the normal condition of j things, it is renewed as fast as it is used, i But nature makes no provision for the I immense amount expended by excessive j care, by fuss and worry, by hurry and ! drive, by explosions of passion, and by the undue cxcitcmeuts of pleasure. All | these are like a great leakage of steam. | The stomach is the first and largest sharer in the loss. Another source is overwork of the brain. Brain-work is specially exhaustive of nerve-force, and the exhaustion is greatly increased by the fact that high intellectual activity gathers to itself a most delightful momentum, making a few hours of highpressure work morj productive than days of plodding. Moreover, a brain-worker generally neglects physical exorcise and curtails sleeps. He is like the careless engineer who, while driving at the highest speed, fails to supply the needed wood and water, no can not help being a dyspeptic. Another cause, which generally acts with all the others, is a ! lack of active exhilarating out-door ! exercise and recreation. Such exercise and recreation are absolutely essential. It is vastly easier to prevent dyspepsia than to euro it. S j ' REV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: "'Revision of Creeds." Text: "Lioxhttn, and let him go."?John xi., 44. My Biblo is, at the place of this text, written all over with lead pencil marks made last December at Bethany on the ruins of l the house of Mary and Martha and Lazarus. We dismounted from our horses on the way T-_J Qon "Rfit.hnnV up iroru doraau it> uio uum kj^.. ~~ was the summer evening retreat of Jesus. After spending the day in the hot city of Jerusalem He would come out there almost every evening to the house of His three friends. I think the occupants of that house were orphans, for the father and mother are not mentioned. But tho son and two daughters must have inherited property, for it must have been, judging from what I saw of the foundations and the size of the rooms, an opulent home. Lazarus, the brother, was now the head of the household and his sisters depended on him and were proud of him, for he was very popular and everybody liked him, and these girls were splendid "girls. Martha a first rate housekeeper aud Mary a spirituelle, somewhat dreamy, but affectionate, and as good a girl as could be found in all Palestine. But one day Lazarus got sick. The sisters were in consternation. Father gone and mother gone, they feel very nervous lest they lose their brother also. Diseaso did its quick work. How the girls bunt? over his pillow? Not much sleep about that house, no sleep at all. From the characteristics otherwhere developed, I judge that Martha prepared the medicines and made tempting dishes of food for the poor appetite of the sufferer, but Mary prayed and sobbed. Worso and worse gets Lazarus, until the doctor announces that he can do no more. The shriek that went up from that household when the last 1 4\. K /li'own anrl t.hft two sisters uroavu uau< u&cu vu ? >? ???? ... ? ? were bein^ led by sympathizers into the adjoining room, all those of us can imagine who have had our own hearts broken. But why was not Jesus there as He so often had been? Faraway in the country districts preaching, healing otlier sick, how unfortunate that this omnipotent Doctor had not been at that domestic crisis in Bethany. When at last Jesus arrived in Bethany Lazarus had been buried four clays and dissolution had taken place. In that climate the breathless bodv disintegrates more rapidly than in ours. If, immediately after decease, that body had been awakened into life, unbelievers might have said that he was only in a comatose state, or in a sort of trance, and by some vigorous manipulation or powerful stimulant vitality had been renewed. No! Four day3 dead. At the door of the sepulcher is a crowd of people, but the three most memorable are Jesus, who was the family friend, and the two bereft sisters. We went into the traditional tomb in December, and it is deep down and dark, and with torches we explored it. We found it all quiet that afternoon of our visit, but the day spoken of in the Bible there was present an excited multitude. I wonder what Jesus will do. H? orders the door of the grave removed, and then He begins to descend the steps. Mary and Martha close after Him, and the crowd after them. Deeper down into the shadows and deeper! The hot tears of Jesus roll over His cheeks and plash upon the back of His hands. Were there ever so many sorrows compressed into so small a space as in that group pressing on down after Christ, all the time bemoaning that He had not come before? Now all the whispering and all the crying and all the sound of shuffling feet are stopped. It is the silence of ex pectancv. Death has conquered, but now the vanquisher of death confronted the scene, Amid the awful hush of the tomb the familiar narao which Christ .had often had upon His lips in the hospitalities of the village home came back to His tongue and with a pathos and an almightiness of which the resurrection of the last day shall be onlj an echo, He cries: "Lazarus! come forth!' The eyes of the slumberer open and he rises and comes to the fe>ot of the steps and witi great difficulty begins to ascend, for the cerements of the tomb are yet on him and his feet are fast and his hands are fast and the impediments to all his movements are sc great that Jesus commands: "Take off these cerements; remove these hindrances; unfas ten these grave clothes, loose him and let him go!" Oh, I am so glad that after the Lord raised Lazarus He went on and commanded the loosening of the cords that bound hi< feet so that he could walk, and the breaking off of the cerement that bound his hands s< that he could stretch out his arms in sal lit* tion, and the tearing off of tho bandage from around his jaws so that he could speak "What would resurrected life have been ti Lazarus if he had not been freed from al those cripplements of his body? I am glac that Christ commanded his complete eman cipation, Baying: "Loose him, and let hin go." The unfortunate thine now is that so mauj Christians are onlv half liberated. They have been raised irom the death and burial of six into spiritual life, but they vet have the grav< clothes on them. They are like Lazarus, hob bling up the stairs of the tomb, bound hanc and foot, and the object of this sermon is t< help free their body and free their soul, anc I shall try to obey the Master's commant that comes to me and comes to every ministei of religion: ''Loose him, and let go." First many are bound hand and foot by religion creeds. Let no man misinterpret me as an tagonizing creeds. I have eight or ten of them a creed about religion, a creed about art, i creed about social life, a creed about govern taient, and so on. A creed is something thai a man believes, whether it be written or un written The Presbyterian Church is now agitated about its creed. Some good men ii it are for keeping it because it was framet from the belief of John Calvin. Othergooc .-i i ? T ,?ifK nnlflmi men 111 11/ Willi 1/ ICVIMUU. a am Kivu wutvuvi party. Instead of revision I want substitu tion. I was sorry to have the question dis turbed at all. The creed did no hinder us from offering the pardon anc the comfort of the Gospel to all men and thi Westminster Confession has not interferet with me one minute. But now the electri* lights have been turned on the imperfection.1 of that creed?and everything that man fash Ions is imperfect?let us put the old creed re spectfullv aside and get a brand new one It is impossible that people who lived hundreds of years ago should fashion an appro priat? creed for our times. John Calvin was a groat uud good man, but ha dier three hundred and twenty-six years ago. The best centuries of Bible study havt come siuce then, and explorers have dont their work, and you might as well havo th: world go back and stick to what Robert Fulton knew about steamboats and reject thi subsequent improvements in navigation: am: go back to John Guttenberg, the inventor ol the art of printing, and reject all modern newspaper presses, and go back to the time when telegraphy was the elevating of signal* or the burning of bonfires 011 the hilltops and roject the magnetic wire, which is th< tongue of nations, as to ignore all tht exegetes and the philologists and the theologians of the last three hundred and twenty ?ix years and put your head under the sleeve of the gown of a sixteenth century doctor, i could call the names of twenty living Presbyterian ministers or religion who eouki make a better creed than John Calvin. The Nineteenth century ought not to be called tc 6itat the feet of the Sixteenth. "But," you say, "it istbe saiuo old Bible and John Calvin had that as well as the pres ent 6tudent of the Scriptures." Yes; so it i< the same old sun in the heavens, but in oui time it has gone to making daguerreotype? and photographs. It is the saino old water, but in our century it has gone to running stoain engines. It is the same old electricity hut in our timo it lias become a lightning footed errand boy. So it is the old Bib!t> but new applications, new uses, uwn interpretations. You must remembei that during the last three hundred year; words have changed their meaning and some of them now mean more and some less, i dr not think that John Calvin believed, as som< say he did, in the damnation of infants, al< though some of the recent hot disputes would seem to imply that there is such a thing a: the damnation of infante. A man who believes in the damnation o: infants himself deserves to lose heaven. J do not think any good man could adini such a possibility. What Christ will do wit! all the babies in the next world I concludi from what He did with the babies in Pales tine when Ho hugged them and kissed them \Vhen some of you grown people go out o this world your doubtful destiny will be an embarrassment to ministers officiating al your obsequies, who will have to be cautioui so as not to hurt surviving friends. Bu< when the darling children go there are nc "ifs" or "buts" or guesses. We must re member that good Joan Cal vin waa a logi daa and a metaphysician and byihe prochv tore of his natawput soma thiugs in an uc 1 "" * j fortunate way. Logic has its use and metaphysics has its use, but they are not good at making creeds. A gardener hands you a blooming rose, dewy fresh, but a severe J botanist comes to you with a rose and says: "I will show you the structure of this rose." And he proceeds to take it apart and pulls off the leaves and he says: * There are the petal?," and he takes out the anthere and he says: "Just look at the wonderful structure of these floral pillars," and then he cuts the stem to show you the juices of the plant. So logic or metaphysics takes the aromatic 'rose of the Christian religion and says: "I will just show you how this rose of religion was fashioned;" and it pulls off of it a piece and says: ' That is the human will," ana another piece and says: "This is God's will," and anI nfhnr ni?cpi and savs: "This is sovereignty." and another piece and says: "This is free agency," this is this and that is that. And while I stand looking at the fragments of the rose pulled apart, one whom the Marys took for a gardener comes in and presents me with a crimson rose, red as blooa, and says; "Inhale the sweetness of this, wear it on your heart and wear it forever." I must confess that I prefer the rose in full bloom to the rose pulled apart. What a time we have had with the dogmatics, the apologetics and the hermeneutics. The defect in some of the creeds is that they try to tell us all about the decrees of Goa. Now the only human being that was ever competent to handle that subject was Paul, and he would not have been competent had he not been inspired. 1 believe in the sovereignty of God and I believe in man's free agency, but no one can harmonize the two. It is not necessary that he harmonize them. Every sermon that I have ever heard that attempted such harmonization was to me as clear as a London fog, as clear as mud. My brother of the nineteenth century, ray brother of the sixteenth century, give us Paul's statement and leave out our own. Better one chapter of Paul on that subject than all of Calvin's institutes, able and honest and migljty as they are. Do not try to i mnociiPA nifcher the throne of God or the "VU?? uv? | membership if they drink wine or if they ' smoke cigars or if they attend the theater j or if they plav cards or if they drive a fast horse. Now I do not drink wine or smoke or ' attend the theater, never played a game of J j cards and do not drive a fast horse, although I would if I owned one. But do not substitute teste which the Bible does ' j not establish. There is one passage of ' j Scripture wide enough to let all in ' I who ought to enter and to keep out all who ' j ought to be kept out: "Believe in the Lord I I Jesus Christ and thou slialt be saved." Get j a man's heart right and his life will be J right. But now that the old creeds have i j been put under public scrutiny, something ' radical must be done. Some would split ' them, some would carve them, some would elongate them, some would abbreviate them. ! At the present moment and in the present shape they are a hindrance. Lazarus is alive, but hampered with the old grave ' clothes. If you want one glorious church ' free and unencumbered take off the cerements J of old ecclesiastical vocabulary. Loose her, and let her go! f Again, there are Christians who are under sepulchral shadows and hindered and hoppled | | by doubts and fears and sins long ago re j panted of. What they need is to understand ' the liberty of the sons of God. They spend more time under the shadow of Sinai than at ? the base of Calvary. They have been 6ing! in? the onlv poor hymn that Newton ever | , wrote: i Ti? a point I long to know, Oft ft causes anxious thoughtDo I love the Lord or no. 1 Am I His or am I not? r i Long to know, do you? "Why do you not | find out? Go to work for God and you wi]] ' | very soon find out. The man who is all the ' > time feeling of his pulse and looking at his tongue to see whether it is coated is morbid j I and cannot be physically well. The doctor j will say: "Go out into the fresh air and into | active life, and stop thinking of yourself and J ! you will get well and strong." So there are . j people who are watching their spiritual | symptoms, and they call it self-examination j and they get weaklier and sicklier in their 3 j faith all the time. Go out and do some thing " i nobly Christian. Take holy exercise and | then examine yourself, and, instead of New I ton'6 saturnine and bilious hymn that I first ^ j quoted, you will sing Newton's other hymn: Amazing <rpce, how sweet the sound 7 I ' That savuii a wretch like mc! l I once was ion, but now am found; | Was blind, but now I see. i What many of you Christians most need I is to get your graves clothes off. I rejoice i that you have been brought from the death of sin to the life of the Gospel, but you need ; to get your hand loose and your feet loose i and your tongue loose and yoursoulloo.se. ! There isno sin that the Bible so arraigns aud j punctures and flagellates as the sin of unbe\ lief, and that is what is the matter with you. i "Oh," you say, "if you knew what I one* ! was and how many times I have grievously | strayed, you would understand why I do not oome out brighter." Then I think i vou would call yourself the chief of sinners. | 1 am glad you hit upon that term, for I have j a promise that fits Into voar case as the cog . of one wheel between the cogs of anothei | wheel or as the key fits into the labyrinths o! . a lock. A man who was once called Saui but afterward Paul declared: "This is a j faithful saying and worthy of all acceptatio. that Christ Jesus came into the world to savt sinners, of whom I am chief." Mark tb.r ?"of whom I am chief." "Put down you overcoats and hats and I will take car of them while you kill Stephen j ?so Saul said to the stoners of the firs' martyr?"I do not care to exert mysel: much, but I will guard your surplus apparc. while you do the murder." Tho New Testa ment account eays: "The witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man's feet whose name was Saul." No wonder he said: "Sinners, of whom I am the chief." Christ is used to climbing. He climbed to the top of the temple. Ho climbed to the top of Mount ' Olivet. He climbed to the top of th? ! cliffs about Nazareth. He climbed * ' to the top of Golgotha. And to the 1 I top of the hills and the mountains of your _ ?_ o:?1? I transgression Jtia js reuuy to umuu nuu j??n> j don for every one of you. The groan of Cal" j vary is mightier than the thunder of Sinai. 1 I Fuli receipt is offered for all your indebtedness. If one throw a stone at midnight into ' | a bush where the hedgebird rooste, it imi | mediately begins to sing; and into the mid ! night hedges of your despondency these words i I I Hurl, hoping to awaken you to anthem. > j Drop the tunes in the minor key and take j the major. Do you think'it pleases the Lord [ for you to be carrying around with you the debris and carcasses of old transgressions? 5 You make me think of some ship that has ' had a tempestuous tim9 at sea, and now that ) it proposes another voyage, keeps ou its J I davits the damaged life-boats, and the splin[ tf-rs of a shivcrod mast, and the broken , | glass of a smashed skylight, ily advice is: clear the decks, overboard with all the darue ; aged rigging, brighten up the salted smokery : stacks. open a new book, haul in fc | the planks, lay out a new course and set sail j for heaven. You have had the spiritual dumps long enough. You will please the Lord more bv being happy than'by being miserable. Have you not sometimes started i out in the rain with your umbrella and you were busy thinking and you did not 110' tice that the rain had stopped, and though it ' had cleared off you still nad your umbrella \ up, and when you discovered what you : were doing you felt silly enough* That is what some of you are doing in religious things. You have got ao used to saunass that though the rain has stopped yoa still . hava .your umbrella up. Come outvtf the ~ ' .-v.-~z'jt^a ^ " vshadow. Ascend the stairs of __ tout . sepulcher. Step out into the broad light of noonday. We come around you to helo remove your grave clothes, and a voice from the heavens, tremulous bnt omnipotent, commands: "Loose him, and let him go." Again, my text has good advice concerning any Christian hampered and bothered and bound by fear of his own dissolution. To such the boob refers when it speaks of those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. The most of us, even if we have the Christain hope, are cowards about death. If a plank falls from a scaffolding and just grazes onr hat, how pale we look. If the Atlantic Occan plays with the steamship, pitching it toward the heavens and letting it suddenly drop, how even the Christian passengers pester the steward or stewardess as to whether there is any danger, and the captain, who has been all night on the bridge and entiled tbroagb, coming in for a cup of coffee, is assailed with a whole battery of questions as to what he thinks of the weather. And many of the best people are, as Paid says, throughout their lifetime in bondage by fear of death. My brothers and sisters, if we made full use of our religion we would soon get over this. Backed up by the teachings of your Bible, just look fhtwiml. folarrtrtrVi CAmft OTuI i thunderbolts of God with your little steel pen. What do you know about the decrees? You cannot pry open the door of God's eternal counsels. You cannot explain the mysteries of God's government now, much less the mysteries of His government five hundred quintillion of years ago. I move for a creed for all our denominations made out of Scripture quotations i pure and simple. That would take the earth I for God. That would be impregnable against J infidelity and Apollyonic assault. That would be beyond human criticism. The de1 I nomination, whatever its name be, that can | rise up to that will be the church of the mil! lennium, will swallow up all other denomi| nations and be the one that will be the bride " " 3 ?T no m?L*o wiieu I tie unaegruoui uuuicw. ^ u... it simpler and plainer for people to get into the kingdom of Grod. Do not hinder people bv the idea that they may not have been elected. D"> not tag on to the one essential of faith in Christ any of the innumerable nonessentials. A man who heartily accepts Christ is a Christian and the man who does not accept ' Him is not a Christian, and that is all there is of it. He need not believe in election or rep1 robation. He need not believe in the eternal generation of the Son. He need not believe in everlasting punishment. He need not be' lieve in infant baptism. He need not believe 1 | in plenary inspiration. Faith in Christ" 1 | is the criterion, is the test, is the pivot, is the indispensable. But there are those who would add unto the tests rather than ' subtract from them. There are thousands i 1 nmtiiri ncif flrvpnt nersons into church KUi VUj^U VUO lA/lVv/VV^V Liumv ???q ?-??? ??? ? see how many worlds there are and reflect that all you have seen compared with the number of worlds in existence are less than the fingers of your right hand as compared with all the fingers of the human race. How foolish then for us to think that ours is the only world fit for us to stay in. I think that all the stare are inhabited ! and by beings like the human race in feelingB j and sentiments and the difference is in lung I respiration and heart beat and physical con| formation, their physical conformation fit for the climate of their world and our physical conformation fit for the climate of our world- So we shall feel at home in any of the stellar neighborhoods, our physical limitations having ceased. One of our first realizations in getting out of this world, I think, will be that in this world we were very much pent up and had cramped apartments and were kept on the limits. The most even of our small world is water, and the water says to the human race: "Dofi't come here or you will drown." A few thousand feet up the atmosphere is uninhabitable, and. the atmosphere says to the human race: "Don't come up here or you cannot breathe." A few miles down the earth is a furnace of fire, and the fire says: "Don't come here or you will burn." The caverns of the mountains I are LUU UL puisuuuua gaaca, auu uuc giuco saj- . [ ''Don't come here or you will bejasphyxiated." And, crossing a rail track, you must look out ! or you-will be crushed. And, standing by a steam boiler, you must look out or you will ba blown up. And pneumonias and pleurisies and consumptions and apoplexies go across this earth in flocks, in droves, in herds, and it is a world of equinoxes and cyclones and graves. Yet we are under the delusion that it is the only place fit to stay in. We want to stick to the wet plank 'mid ocean while the great ship, ,:the City of God," of the Celestial line, goes sailing past, and would gladly take us up in a life boat. My Christian friends, let mo tear off your despondencies and frights about dissolution. My Lord commands me regarding you, saying: "Loose him, and let nim go." Heaven is ninety-five per cent, better than this world, a thousand per cent, better, a million per cent, better. Take the gladdest, brightest, most jubilant days you ever had on earth and compress them all into one hour, and that hour would be a requiem, a fast day, a gloom, a horror, as compared with tne poorest hour they have had in heaven since its first tower was built or its first gates swung or its first 60Dg caroled. "Oh," you say, "that may be true, but I am so afraid of crossing over from this world to the next, and I fear the snapping of the cord between soul and body." "Well, all the surgeons and physicians and scientists declare that there is no pang at [ the parting of the body and soul, and all the j seeming restlessness at the closing hour of I life is involuntarv and no disease at all. And I agree with the doctors, for what they say is confirmed by the fact that persons who were drowned or were submerged until all consciousness departed and were afterward resuscitated declare that the sensation of passing into unconsciousness was pleasurable rather than distressful. The cage of the body has a door on easy hinges, and when that door of the physical cage opens the soul simply puts out its wings and soar6. "But," you say, "I fear to * go because the future is so full of mystery." "Well, I will tell you how to fa-eat the mysteries. The mysteries have ceased bothering me, for I do as the judges of your courts often do. They hear all tne arguments in the case and then say: "I will take these papers and give you my decision next week." So I have heard all the arguments in regard to tho next world, and some things are uncertain and full' of mystery, and so I fold up the papers and reserve until the next world my decision about them. I can there study all the masteries to better advantage, for the light will bo better and my faculties stronger, and I will asktheOhristain philosophers, who have had all the advantages of heaven ror centuries, to help me, nnd I may permit myself humbly to ask the .Lord, and 1 tmnif taere wui oe only one mystery left, and that will be how one so un worthy as myself got into such an enraptured place. Come up out of the sepulchral shadows. If you are not Christians by faith in Christ come up into the light; aud if you are already like Lazarus, reanimated, but still have your grave clothes on, get rid of them. The command is: "Loose him, and let him go." The only part J of my recent journey that I really dreaded, although I did not say much about it before[ hand, was the landing at Joppa. That is : t'.ie port of entrance for the Holy Land, and j there are many rocks, and in rough weather j people cannot land at all. The boats taking t ha paoplo from the steamer to the docks must run between reefs that looked to me to be about fifty feet apart, and one mis-stroko of an oarsman or an unexpected wave has sometimes been fatal, and hundreds have perished along those reefs. Besides that, as we left .Jort Said the evening before an old traveler j I -aid: "The wind is just right to give you u i 1. t i:.? T fhinV I'.'JUgU lauuiug ai u, luucbw, *. ******* *ou will not be able to land at all." The ; act was that when our Mediterranean >\earner dropped anchor near Joppa and we put out for shore in the small boat, the water was as still as though it had been | sound asleep a hundred years, and we landed | as easily as I came on this platform. "Well, j your fears have pictured for you an apI palling arrival at the end of your voyj age of life, and they say that the seas will run high and that <*? breakers will swallow you up, or that if you reach .Canaan at all it will be a very rough landing. The very oppositfi_will bo true if vou have the eternal Odd for yonr portion. 'Sour disembarkation for the promised land jwill be as smooth as was ours " at Palestine last December. Christ will meet you far out at sea and pilot you into complete safety, and you will land with a hosanna on ono side bf you and a hallelujah on the other. < ~ "Land ahead!" Ita frufFs are waving Cer the hills of fadeless green. And the living waters laving Shores where heavenly forms are seen. Rocks and storms I'll fear no more When on that eternal shore; Drop the anchor ! furl the san: I am safo within the veil! In Georgetown, D. C., in a liunible cottage which rents for $20 a month, ( lives the only surviving grandchild of Thomas Jefferson. Hev name is Mrs. j Septimia Randolph Mickleham, widow of David 8, Meikleliam, .long since I dead. Sho is now in her 70th year, a cultured, amiable, venerable old lauy, with two daughters and one son in her household. The last Sultan of Turkey was accustomed to shut himself up with a negro slave and his favorite wife in a ! secret room of his palace and there gloat over his treasures. Plugging his arms iuto a heap of gold-dust and letting it slip throngh his fingers seemed to give him more satisfaction than gazing on his pile of jewels. Samuel Cable, a Stark (Ohio) fariucr, wortlr $30,000, thought ho was dying, and deeded his property to five children. He recovered and asked them to restore it, bat they refused, and now he appeals to the court on the plea that he was not of sound mind when the deed* we re made. I hS I ? SABBATH SCHOOL. J INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOB> W MARCH 23. I Lesson Text: "Christ Forgiving SIn,^W j Luke v., 17-20?Golden Text: Luke v., 21?Commentary. 17. "And it came to pass on a certain day . 1 as He was teaching." Our lesson to-day finds J Jesus in a house in Capernaum, the hoOM I filled with people, and such a crowd about 1 the door that no one can come near (Mark 1 ii., 1,2), and Jesus is preaching the Word \1 unto them. Just what He talked about WS may infer from His discourses, which ajri . more fully recorded; let each one search and / see. * "There were Pharisees and doctors of the ? law sitting by, which were come out of every ' town of Galilee, and Judea, and Jerusalem." * So that here was gathered a convention of All j the leading and influential religious people of the land, and they were being addressed by this humble carpenter of Nazareth upon topics with which they ought to be very familiar, and of which the wonder in their eye? was that He should know anything. ' 'And the power of the Lord was present to ; heal them." But they had come for no such purpose; physically they were not sick, and spiritually were they not perfect, and did not all people look to them for wisdom and lightt Why snould it be written that there was healing for them? The answer is fully given 1 in the eight woes of Matt, xxiii., where the Great Physician describes their case as He saw it. But they aro deaf and blind, they will not hear nor see, they come seeking no ' favors from Him, and they go as they came deriving no benefit from the power of the Lord. 18. "And, behold, men brought in a bed a man which was taken with a palsy." Mark says that four men carried hira. His trouble was paralysis; ho was utterly helpless, all undone, not a thing could he do for himself. "And they sought to bring him in, and to lay him before Him." They realized their friend's helpless condition, they were sorry for him, they believed Jesus could heal him. > their sorrow for him took a very practical a turn and they determined to bring him to Jesus. flfl 10. "They went upon the housetop, and .WH let him down through the tiling, with Ids' J couch, into the midst before Jesus." The M discouragements were many and great. It m seemed simply impossible to get their friend y to Jesus, and it would not be strange if some V of the four urged a return, hoping for an- fj other opportunity} but some one or more of the four had the riglit spirit, th9 spirit which y laughs at impossibilities and cries: "It shall v be done." Toe way to the flat housetop was I not blocked, and this grand soul says: '*If ^ we can't get there in the natural way, through the door, we'll get there in an unnatural way, through the roof." When we B attempt to come to Jesus or bring any one else to Him, how often we encounter what V seem to be insuperable hindrances, and how fl seldom we see tne perseverance of these four; jfl V\nf t'e fVio riffhf tcatr . ? t . UUV VUOII a u mo Ilk". "?J. _ 20. "And when He saw their faith, He said J unto him, Man, thy sans are forgiven thee." v The great people present may have felt like objecting very decidedly to this rude inter- * ruption; or some hateful opes may have s laughed in their hearts at the meeting being A thus disturbed; but the quiet calmness ana \ dignity of Jesus would overawe them, and as { all was still again, the helpless man lying on \ his couch in their midst, these most unexpect* J ed words fell from the preacher's hps: "Man. thy sins are forgiven thee!" As the skillful V physician seeks carefully the source of the 1 more manifest symptoms, the seat of the dis- I ease, and attends to that knowing that if the . I, cause is removed all will be well, so Jesus goes at once to the cause of all sickness and ( suffering and death, aud in the case of this man grants him first his greatest need, the v forgiveness of his sins. At the same time He < indicates to the Pharisees their need. < 21. "Who is this which speaketh blasphemies? IV ho can forgive sins but God alone?" Thus these sin-sick Scribes and Pharisees be gan to reason in then* hearts, not knowing that God Himself stood in their midst ana uttered these words. y S2. "Jesus perceived their thoughts (R. V., i reasonings) said unto them: What reason ye * s in your hearts?" They must have been startled at having the thoughts of their^V hearts thus told out before all, and one wo??s^B think that this would convince them that Jesus was more than man. ' 28. "Whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk?" Each was equally easy to God manifest in the flesh, but from their standpoint simply to heal the man of bis sickness would not imply the same power of God as to grant forgiveness of sins, ana would not have led them to accuse Him of blasphemy. To remove the source of the difficulty was certainly more difficult than to remove some of the outward ; symptoms. The Pharisees then and now are well content to let the inward rottenness continue if only the sepulchre is kept well white washed: but God's" way is, give lire wnere there has been death and cleanse the tomb of its foul contents. 24. "The Son of Man hath power upon earth to forgive sins." And He will have them to know it. But who is this Son of \ Man? This is the first time we find the title iu this Gospel, but we shal! find it about twenty-five times as wa go 011. It is at least thirty times in Matthew, fourteen times in ; Mark and ten times in John. It seems to be our Lord's favorite title oC Himself, and is '} iouna outsiae or tne (jospels only in Acts vii., 56; Heb. ii., 6; Rev. i.. 13; xiv., 14. Of the eighty times He uses it in the four Gospels, He uses it in referenco to His resurrection and future glory about thirty >, t.im?! And that reminds u_s of Ps viii., 4; lxxx., 17; Dan. vii., 13, where theSon \ of Man is tbe one to whom dominion oa earth is given. Ho has power to remove sin and sickness, and docs >'t even now in the case of individuals. lie removes sin as to its consequences and power from every one who truly seeks Him. Ho removes sickness and suffering whenever it is for our good and His glory, but not until the resurrection will He give His people bodies forever free from all infirmity. The time will come when He shall have removed from the earth forever all traces of sin and the curse; and He shall do it as Son of Mnu, David's Sou. Abraham's Son, in association with redeemed Israel and tbe glorified church. 25. "And immediately he ro6e up before V them, and tool; up that whereon lie and departed to his own house, glorifyine^H| God." The Word of the Son Of Man, Goa^H manifest in tbe flesb, did it. He forgave his sins, He healed his body. We would, as a j rule, have healthier bodies if we had healthier souls, purefh^arts, hearts in which the Word of God dwelt richly. 2G. '"Amazed?gloiifiea God?filled with fear?we have seen Strang?" Jesus is the Lord God of the holy prophe&v (Rev. xxii., 6, 1G). aud if our hearts looking up to Him in childlike faith should say "Ah, Lord God! Behold, Thou hast made the heaven aud the earth by Thy great power and stretched out arm, and thero is nothing too iiara lor iace (jer. iuu., n;, wo ?? nuum be amazed at the results of faith, and should be compelled to glorify God every day because of the strange things we would see. The empty would be filled, but the rich and selfsatisbed would still go empty away. The i Lord gives us to see onr paralysis, that we may in our helpfulness come and cling to the Miehfcy One.?Lesson Helner. Somb of the ordinary expressions of the Chinese are very sarcastic and characteristic. A blustering harmless fellow they call a "paper tiger." When & aian values himself overmuch they compare him to a "rat falling into a scale and weighing itself." Overdoing a thing tlicy call "a hunchback making a bow." A spendthriftthej compare to ft rocket which goes off at once. Those who expend their charity on remote objects, but neglect their family, are said "to hang a lantern on a rope, which is seen afar, but gives no light below." Great banks of marine sponges,> including all the kinds most valued"^ in commerce, have been discovered on A the southeast coast of ^icily. They oxtend from fifteen to eighteen marine leagues in length, and afe from twenty to thirty-one ells in/depth. Greeks and Italians are hastening to th? spot. J