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r- '' >i' ? > AN OBSTINATE OLD MAN. An old man lived all alone, all alone, And a jolly old man was he. He was ruddy and fat and sleek as a rat, And his arm was a good thing to see, His chest was round, his liver was sound, And his voice had a chord of glee Aj he sang to himself while ha counted his pelf: * "Oh, ho? I'm a hearty and hale old man. Ah, hal Such a sturdy and well old man!" Not a chick nor a child had he in the world, Though his coffers were full of gold; He had money in chest, in trousers, in vest Prom his pockets the big dollars rolled; He owned miles of land and palaces grand, And in bank had thousands untold. So he sang all the while, with a confident smile: L_ "Oh, ho! I'm a likely and peart old man, Ah, ha! Such a merry an i brisk old man!" His brothers waited ami longed in vaiu, And for years I weeu a score They would meet eacli day and pleasantly sav: "The oKl man is right at Death's door." Then the first one slept and he never wept, But he laughed anil sang the more, And he gayly cried when the last one died: ' Oh, ho! I'm a healthy and long-lived man, Ah, ha! Such a vigorous, sound old man!" Each night his nephews and nieces dreamt Of how rich they were going to grow, And thevloved to hint, "We will never stint Hp When our shin come* in, you know," But I grieve to tell, he kept hale and well While the years went dragging slow, And he cackled loud o'er the last one's shroud: "Oh, ho! I'm a hardy and stout old man, Ah, ha! Such a lusty and tough old man!" And he's living yet all alone by himself, This man I am sinking about, Oh, his eye is bright, and His step is light, And his voice is cheery and stout: His cheeks are red and he holds up his head In a way that puts death to rout. So I can't see why he should ever die? Sjjfe Oh, dear! Such a healthy and well old man, Ah, me, Such an obstinate, tough old man! ?George Horton, in Chicago Herald. ib HORSESHOE LUCK, m "Am I too old to think of a second - marriage?" said Mrs. Blythe, looking wistfully into the glittering sheet of mirror that extended at the other side of the room into an indefinite perspective of onyx tables, stands of ferns, Japanese screens and India hangings. "Six-andt iiirty?and why should one be compelled to give up all the sweetness of life atsixand-thirty? I'm sure I don't look a day over thirty: and Algy Vane mast be that at least: Mrs. Blythc was a very pretty woman? not the bud, hut the full-blown rose?a plump, dimpled, peachy-cheeked matron, who knew exactly how to make the most of all her middle aged advantages. She had married Major Mortlake Biythe at seventeen, and he had left her a widow ^4 at seven-and-cwenty. "I shall never be such a fool as to marry again!*' said Mrs. Biythe. For the Major had by no means been perfection. He had left her just enough, by dint of strict economy, to live upon, especially as her only child had been taken to "bring up" by a quiet Quaker couple, the Major's relatives. And until now Mrs. Biythe had adhered resolutely to her decision. But Algernon Vane was a royally handsome fellow, and the pretty widow was but human, and she had scribbled "Rosamond Vane." "Mrs. Algernon Vane," or/oin in Klnffinrr uvci auvi v.wkk.ujj book, and she had treasured up a flower he had woru in his buttonhole, and she had corresponded with him during the winter he had spent in Bermuda, writing sprightly and amusing letters, with a semi-tone of seriousness underlying all their sparkling gossip. "He likes me a little now,'-said the widow, '-and I'm determined he shall like me a good deal more. I'm tired of this solitary life; I'm tired of counting every penny half a dozen times before I spend it. Algy is independently rich, aud he's my beau ideal of a young man. With him I do believe I could be quite, quite happy. He don't know about Lydia; but of course that would be no objection. Uncle Joshua and Aunt Rebecca will keep her. Dear me, dear me! she muat be growing to be a big girl now,"' aud Mrs. Blythc shuddered at the idea. At this moment the door flew open, knd in burst a tall, dusty, disheveled young girl, some half a head taller than Mrs. Blythc herself, with the whitecapped maid following helplessly behind. "Please, ma'am," said the maid, "she wouldn't wait for me to take her card up." "Mamma. I'm Lydia!" cried the breathless apparition. "Little Liddy, mamma?don't you remember? Tell that hateful girl to go away! A card, indeed! Am I to send up cards to my own mother?*' Mrs. Blythc stood appalled, in the soft yellow light streaming through the China-silk curtain?. This fair-haired, sunburned young giantess, with the peony checks and the big blue eyes, the ill-fitting gloves and faded cambric gown ?could it lie possible that this was the "little Liddy" of ten years ago? Oh, if Mr. Vane should Fee her! The girl looked around like one who views the enchantments of a fairy palace. ' Oh, mamma, how pretty you are!" said she, :'aud what a lovely room! Are you glad to see me, mamma, darling?" "My dearest child," gasped the widow, "what has brought you here?" Lydia clasped her hands; her countenance fell. "Mamma." said she, "I'm the most miseiable creature in the world?and I want a hundred dollars!" "Lydia! A hundred dollars!" "And you must let me have it!" vehemently went on Lydia. "I've killed ! Uncle Joshua's prize colt! That is, I j didn't exactly do it myself; but I was riding 'Pretty Jane' around the meadow, \ just for practice, and I forgot and left the ! bars down, and the colt got out on the j railroad track, and the train came along, J and?oh I never cau look Unele Joshua in the face agaio, .mless I have that hun- 1 dred dollars to pay him! "I shall be able to earn plenty for myself before loug, mamma," she added, breathlessly, "for I can ride better than j -\v V; -v^ , y* the woman in pink tarlatan and spangles who jumped through the hoops at the circus. When the old gipsy told my fortune last year, at the county fair, she said a horse-shoe would bring me luck some day; aud I knew of course, what she meant. So I've beeu practicing riding ; ever aiuce, whene7er I could get away j from Aunt Bcck and Uncle Joshua, and?" "Mrs. Dappleton Arae3 is in the drawing-room, ma'am," said the white-capped maid, appearing with au oxydized silver card-receiver in her hand. And Mrs. Blythe checked her daughI ter's confidences at once. | "Lydia," cried she, "I'm surprised at I you! A great girl like you scuffling and j romping around the country! Go back 1 to Shady Plains by the very next train, and try to behave more like a lady. Why, you must be fourtecu at least!" "Seventeen, mamma," confessed the culprit. "But aren't you going to givs me the hundred dollars?" "I have not got a hundred cents!*' impatiently cried Mrs. Blythe. "And if I had, I wouldn't give it to you, you . naughty, ill-behaved, romping?Yes, I Matilda, tell Mrs. Dappleton Ames that I t ckoii ho rlrm-n rlimctlv. and brin<? some ! tea and buns for?for Miss Blytho bej fore the next traiu goes.'' But when Mrs. Dappleton Ames bad ' finished her call, and Mrs. Blythc camc back, the bird had down. Lvdia, deeply wounded and resentful, had promptly returned to Shady Plains. "That old gipsy must have beeu a ; humbug, after ail," thought the despairi ing girl. "Oh, what shall I say to j Uncle Joshua? Why was mamma so cold j and cruel to' me? Oh, dear, I am very, J very unhappy!" j "Shady Plains!'' shouted tho conj ductor. And as Lydia crcpt sorrowfully out of the train, something bright, like a fallen drop of dew, scintillated on the floor at her feet. She stooped to pick it up. It was a diamond scarf-pin in the shape of a horse-shoe. "Squire Carhart's company must have dropped it," said Lydia to herself. I "Oh. how it sparkles! If it were only mine! For I am sure it must be worth more than a hundred dollars." She glanced furtively at a tall, broadshouldered young fellow who had been seated in the train a few seats beyond her. "He never looked around," thought Lydia. "I'm glad of it, for he must have known that I liaci been crying, uut I must give this back to him." With a light, swift step she hastened to overtake Squire Carhart's city guest. "Please, is this yours?'' she said, holding up the glittering half-circle. "I found it on the car floor close to where you were sitting." He started and raised his hat. "It is Mr. Wotton's neice, isn't it?" said he?"Miss Lydia? Yes, it is mine, and I'm a thousand times obliged to you. 11 must have fastened it in very carelessly. ' And I value it very highly, too; it was a gift from my father." "Is it worth a great deal of money?" asked Lydia, lifting her sea-blue eyes to his face. "About a hundred dollars, I suppose." "I wish it was mine,''said Lydia, with a long sigh, as if she were thinking aloud. "Yours? AVhy, it isn't a lady's ornament." "Oh, not the piu!" Lydia hastened to f?vnldin. "hut the monev?the hundred dollars. Good-by! Here is the carriage waiting from Carhart Court." "Will you let me drive you a9 far as Wotton Farm?" asked the stranger, courteously. And tired Lydia willingly acceded. The upshot was that when she entered her uncle's presence, she gave him a bank bill representing the price of the 'prize colt." "Where did thee get this money, child?" solemnly asked Uncle Joshua. "I?I borrowed it," confessed Lydia. "Don't ask me any more questions, uncle. 1*11 pay it back if I have to pick blackberries at four cents a quart all summer." ' 'I hope thee will give up this hoydeuish businsss of scampering about on horseback, Lydia, after this," severely spoke Aunt Rebecca. "But, aunt, the old fortune-teller told me that ray fortune would one day be made by a " Lydia stopped abruptly as she remembered how the diamond horseshoe had glittered on the floor at her feet that day. Her color rose, her heart beat. Iiucc uiuob i y ujuia, ttumoaished Aunt Rebecca, "that all di, viners and fortune-tellers are snares of ! Satan." "Yes, Aunt Rebecca," murmured the ! girl. But from that day an inscrutable change came over the whole character of her life. The pleasant summer sunshine had faded out of the land. The Saratoga hotels were closed; gay Newport was deserted. And Mrs. Blythe, sitting in the yellow light of her jonquil silk curtains, was smiling over a card which Matilda had just brought in. "Dear Algy!" she murmured. "I knew he would come!" I rrlidfirl intn flio nn/1 rrr?l.1 | vuv gltuvu iUwU WUV UUU ?\Jl\JL drawing-room, all gracious cordiality. "You recreant cavalier!" she smiled, i "I've half a uiind to scold you, and I yet?" | "Do I deserve that title?" Mr. Vane asked. "For you are the first person to whom I have told the great happiuess of my life. Oh, I see you don't understand me! Come out from behind the draperies, Lydia, and help me to explain." And Lydia, blue-eyed and fair-tressed, came. "We are married, mamma," said 1 Lydia, "Algy aud I. And we sail for Europe iu the Comandra, at noon. Won't you kiss me, mamma, and wish me joy?" \f-., Di..tv.n rwi;? a ?UU1. I.MJ i/iiu ato?tu auu i ! too?and wished thorn joy. Cut it was the severest ordeal to which she ever had been put. A mothcr-iu-huv ; j instead of a bride! This was hardly what I she had looked forward to. But even in that trying moment she noticed the glittering pin which fastened Lydia's luce bonnet-strings?a quaint device of tiny diamonds?and remembered what the girl had once said about a fortune-teller and a horse-shoe. "Mamma didn't look quite pleased, Algy,'' said the bride, when they were 1 back iu the carriage, driving to the steamer's wharf. "Do you suppose she is vexed because we didn't take her into our confidence?" "I dare say,'' remarked Mr. Vane, "that no mother hkea to lose her child so suddenly. Least of all, darling, so sweel a treasure as you." And neither of the two suspected what a poisoned dagger was that day rankling in the breast of Mrs. Rosamond Blythe. ?Saturday Night. Lous? Fasts. Carnivorous animals, according to Charles Richet, bear fasting better than I the herbivorous, the latter being accusI tomed to eat almost continuously instead of at uncertain intervals. Dogs can endure abstinence thirty days, on the average, and cold-blooded animals twice that time. A python, however, has been known to live twenty-three months without eating, a rattlesnake twenty-nine months, a tortoise eighteen months, and a frog sixteen months. The endurance depends greatly upon the activity of the nervous system, which is wonderfully reduced during the torpidity of hibernating creatures, but the fatal limit of fasting is usually reached in all auinrals when the loss in weight reaches forty per cent. In the case of man, in health, the estimate I seems justified that twenty days of fast I will hrinnr desith. But with soecial ore | o ?7? i ^ parations, as in the cases of Tanner, Succi and Merlatti, fasting seems to have been prolonged to twice this period, or longer, without fatal result. Diseased persons often live much longer without food than healthy ones cou d. A Dutch hysteric woman died in 1826 after nearly four years of fasting; and another woman died in 1828 after a lcthargic fast of six j mouths. Many cases of wonderful fasts, less entitled to belief, arc given by medical writers of two or three centuries ago. Among them is that of a girl of Heidelberg who neither ate nor drank for seven years, that of a girl of Spires -vho lived for three years upon nothing but a few drops of water or wine, and that of a girl of Cologne who fasted four years and fainted at the taste of food. In the last century a woman is said to have lived twenty-six years in a state of partial fasting, relieved at intervals by a few drops of milk or broth; and another woman ate in a year only what an ordinary person would require for two days.?Arkansaw Traveler. The Colossus of Rhodes. The Colossus of Rhodes was so called to distinguish it from other colossal figures, said by some writers to have numbered over 100, which, during the days of its prosperity, were set up in the "Uity 01 tne sun, as xne capital 01 uie Island of Rhodes was poetically called. The Colossus came third in the list of the seven wonders of the world, and was consecrated to the sun, the deity of Rhodes. It wa3 mffde of brass, cast in sections and is said to have been the work of Chares of Lindus, a pupil of the great Lysippus. It was twenty cubits (supposed to have been 150 feet) high, and cost the city about 300 talents, or $350,000 as we reckon money nowadays. Over twelve years' work was spent on this early monster, which with all its grandeur, was destined to a very short career. Fifty years after its completion, in the year 224 B.C., according to Pliny, this gigantic emblematic figure was thrown down by an earthquake. The Colossus stood at the entrance to the harbor, with each of its mighty feet on solid stono- foundations, ships in full sail passing and repassing between the gigantic legs. Deleperre, the historian, says that it was not erected at the entrance to the harbor, as stated by Pliny, but that it stood on an open space near the Pacha's seraglio. Still another writer says it was reconstructed during the reign of the Emperor Vespasian, and that after the Island of Rhodes had been I conquered by Caliph Othman, in tbe I seventh century of our era, it was taken j down and the metal sold to a Jew, who ! transported it to Syria, a caravan of 980 camcls being necessary to carry his purchase.?St. Louis ltepiiblic. An Unlucky Engine. The Pennsylvania Railroad Company will be compelled to abandon Engine No. 1313, now in use on the road. It is regarded by road men as unlucky. There is not an engineer or fireman on the road that has not a superstitious dread of the huge monster that during the past year has figured in more disasters than any other. In the first place, it plunged over the bridge at Latrobe last summer, wrecking the whole train and killing the engineer, fireman and ten others, and seriously injuring about a dozen persons. About a month afterward it collided with a train near Manor, seriously injuring tho fireman and wrecking a number of cars. Again in a few weeks, while ascending the mountains, its boiler burst, and the fireman was blown through the cab window and I i t ?. Ti. : js uauiy Hurt, ii? was rupiureu uuu uuuo more put 011 the road, and all went well until about six wegks ago.jyhenjt a^ain ran into a freigEl at Manor Station, smashing ten or twelve cars and slightly injuring the fireman. Lastly, while running near Sang Hollow, it got into another scrape. This time its oil can exploded aud severely burned both engineer and fireman. It is said that the employes of the road intend to ask the company to discontinue its use.?Philadelphia Press. Scales That Weigh a Hair. The fine gold-weighing scales made in Philadelphia, and intended for the Mint at New Orleans, are marvels of mechanical invention and expert workmanship. The larger of the two pairs ha3 a capacity of 10,000 ounces troy, or about 686 pounds avoirdupois, and when loaded to its full weighing capacity will indicate the variation of the one-thousandth of an ounce. The other and smaller pair i* intended for lighter work. All its bearings are of the finest agate, which have been ground with remarkable precision. This instrument is believed to be the most delicate in the world. It will give the precise weight of a human hair, and is susceptible to the slightest atmospheric chances. His 31 other-in-Law is Welcomed. Among the Piutes it is always the fathcr-iu-lnw that makes the trouble. Every married Piute i3 always glad of a visit from lii9 raother-in-law. He welcomes her with his broadest griu. The arrival of the mothcr-in-law gives him a double team, where before he had only one animal. He hails her appearance I with delight, and. piling a jackass-load of wood upon her willing old back, sends her into town with his wife (similarly packed) to peddle out the fuel and bring back to him asupply of money for his favorite game of poker. The Piute father-in-law is of no use as a wood-packer, nor will ho gather grass seeds or pine nuts.? Virginia. City Enttr~ prise. ' "TV > - . ' . V REV. DR.-TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUN. DAY SERMON. Subject: "Enster Thoughts." Tkxt: 'vtncZ the field of Ephron, which was in Machpelah which was before Mamre, the field and the cave which was therein, and all the trees that were in the field, that were in all the borders round about, were made sure unto Abraham."?Gen. auriii., 17,18. Here is the first cemetery ever laid cut. Machpelah was its name. It was an arborescent beauty, where the wound of death was bandaged with foliage. Abraham, a rich man, not being able to bribe the King of Terrors, proposes here, as far as possible, to cover up up his ravages. He had no doubt previously noticed this region, and now that Sarah his wife had died?that remarkable person who at ninety years of age had born to her the son Isaac, and who now, after she had reached one hundred and twenty-seven years, had expired?Abraham is negotiating for a family plot for her last slumber. Ephron owned this real estate, and after, in mock sympathy for Abraham, refusing to take anything for it, now sticks on a big price?four hundred shekels of silver. This cemetery lot is paid for, and the transfer made, in the presence of witnesses in a public place, for there were no deeds and no halls of record in those early times. Then in a cavern of limestone rock Abraham put Sarah, and, a few years -n.? u: It f_ll 1 fUon Tcqop nnH utter, uiuiseu luuuncu, uuu ? ?, ? Rebekah, and then Jacob and Leah. Embowered, picturesque and memorable Machpalah! That "God's acre'' dedicated by Abraham has been the mother of innumerable mortuary observances. The necropolis of every civilized land has vied with its metropolis". The most beautiful hills of Europe outside the great cities are covered with obelisk and funeral vase and arched gateways and columns and parterres in honor of the inhumat-ed. The Appian Way of Rome was bordered by sepulchral commemorations. For this purpose Pisa has its arcades of marble sculptured into exquisite bas reliefs and the features of dear faces that have vanished. Geuoa has its terraces cut into tombs; and Constantinople covers with cypress the silent habitations; and Parishasits rere-Lachaise, on whose height rests Balzac and David and Marshal Nev and Cuvier and La Place and Mohere, ana a mighty group of warriors and poets and painters ana musicians. In all foreign nations utmost genius on all sides is expended in the work of interment, mummification and incineration. Our owu country consents to be second to none in respect to the lifeless body. Every city and town and neighborhood of any intelligence or virtue has, not many miles away, its sacred inclosure, where affection has engaged sculptor's chisel and florist's spade and artificer in metals. Our own city has shown its religion a? well as its art, in the manner in which it holds the memory of those who have passed forever away, by its Cypress Hills and its Evergreens and its Calvary and Holy Cross and Friends' cemeteries. All the world knows of our Greenwood, with now about two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants sleeping among hills that overlook the sea, and by lakes embosomed in an Eden of flowers, our American Westminster Abbey, an Acropolis of mortuary architecture, a Pantheon of mighty ones ascended, elegies in stone, maas in marine, wuuio generations in peace waiting for other generations to join them. No dormitory of breathless sleepers in all the world has so many mighty dead. Among preachers of the gospel, Bethune and Thomas De Witt, and Bishop Janes and Tyng, and Abeel the missionary, and Beeclier and Buddington and Mc'Clintock and Inskip and Bangs and Chapin and Noah Schenck and Samuel Hanson Cox. Among musicians, the renowned Gottschalk and the holy Thomas Hastings. Among the philanthropists, Peter Cooper and Isaac T. Hopper and Lucretia Mott and Isabella Graham, and Henry Bergh, the apostle of mercy to the brute creation. Among the literati, the Carys, Alice and Phoebe, James K. Paulding and John G. Saxe. Among the journalists, Bennett and Raymond and Greeley. Among scientists, Ormsby Mitchel, warrior as well as astronomer, and lovingly called by his soldiers "Old Stars;'' the Drapers, splendid men, as I well know, one of thom my teacher, the other my classmate. Among inventors, Elias Howe, who, through the sewing machine, did more to alleviate the toils of womanhood than any man that ever lived, and Professor Morse, who gave us magnetic telegraphy; the former doing his work with the needle, the latter with tne thunderbolt. Among physicians and surgeons, Joseph C. Hutchinson, and Marion Sims, and Dr. Valentine Mott, with the following epitaph wh ch he ordered cut in honor of the Christian religion: "My ; m.u. J ? {? -f.il T?n_ implicit laibll UllU. uupc J3 kll d X?v." dcemer, who is the resurrection and the life. Amen and Amen." This is our American Machpelah, as sacred to us as tho Machpelnhm Canaau, of which Jacob uttered that pastoral poem in one verse: "There they buried Abraham, and Sarah his wife; there they buried Isaac, and Rebekah his wife, and there I buried Leah." At this Easter service I ask and answer what may seem a novel quostion, but it will be found, before I get through, a practical and useful and tremendous question. What will Resurrection day do for the cemeteries? First, I remark it will be their supernatural beautification. At certain seasons it is customary in all lands to strew flowers over the mounds of the departed. It may have been suggested by the fact that Christ'9 tomb was in a garden. And when I say garden I do not mean a garden of these latitudes. The Iato frosts of spring and the early frosts of autumn are so near to each other that there are only a few months r>f flnwoK! in tlia field. All the flowers we see to-day had to be petted and coaxed and put under shelter or tney would not have bloomed at all. They are the children of the .conservatories. But at this season and through the most of the year, the Holy Land is all ablush with floral opulence. You find all the royal family of flowers there, some that you supposed indigenous to the far north, and others indigeuous to the far south?the daisy and hyacinth, crocu3 and anemone, tulip and water lily, geranium and ranuncu lus, mignonette and sweet marjoram. In the college at Beyrout you may see Dr. Post's collection of about eighteen hundred kinds of Holy Land flowers; while among the trees are the oak of frozen climes, and the tamarisk of the tropics, walnut and willow, ivy and hawthorn, ash and elder, pine and sycamore. If such floral and botanical beauties are the wild growths of tho fields think of what a garden must be in Palestine! And in such a garden Jesus Christ slept after, on the soldier's spear. His last drcp of blood had coagulated. And then see how appropriate that all our cemeteries should be floralized and tree shaded. In June, Greenwood is Brooklyn's garden. "Well, then," you say, "how can you make out that tho Resurrection day will beautify the cemeteries? "Will it not "leave them a plowed up ground? On that day there will be an earthquake, and will not this split the polished Al>erdeen granite, as well as the plain slab that can afford but the two words, 'Our Mary, or 'Our Charley!"'" Well, I will tell you how Resurrection day will beautify all the cemeteries. It will be by bringing up the faces that werotousonce,and in our memories are to us now, more beautiful than any calla lily, and the forms that are to us more graceful than any willow by the waters. Can you think of anything more I'aautiful .than the reappearance of those from whom we have been parted? I do not care which way the tree falls in the blast of the judgment hurricane, or if the plowshare that day shall turn under the last rose leaf and the last China aster, if out of the broken sod shall come the bodies of our loved one* not damaged, but irradiated. The idea of the resurrection gets easier tc understand as I hear the phonograph unroll some voice that talked into it or sung into il a year ago, just before our frieud's decease. You turn the wire, and then come forth the very tones, the very accentuation, the very cough, the very song of the person that breathed into it once, but is now departed. If a man can do that, cannot Almighty God, without half trying, return the voice of your departed? And if he can return the voice, why not the lips and the tongue and the throat that fashioned the voice? And if the lips and the tongue and the throat, why not then the brain that suggested the words? And if the brain, why not the nerves, of which the brain is tne headquarters? And if he can return the nerves, why not the muscles, which are less ingenious? And if the muscles, why not the bones, that are less wonderful? And if the voice and the brain and the muscles and the bones, why not the entire body? If man can , do the phonograph, God can do the reaurreo tion. Will it be the same body that in the last day shall be reanimated? Yes, but infinitely improved. Oijr bodies change every seven years, and yet, in one sense, it is the same body. On my wrist and the second finger of my right hand there is a scar. I made that at twelve years of age, when, disgusted at the presence of two warts, I took a red hot iron and burned them off. and burned them out Since then my body has changed at least a half dozen times, but those scars prove it is the same body. And we never lose our identity. If Gon can and does sometimes rebuild a man five, six, ten times, in this world, is it mysterious that He can rebuild him once more, and that in the resurrection? If He can do it ten times, I think He can doit eleveu times. Then look at the seventeenyear locusts. For seventeen years gone, at the end of seventeen years thev aDDear. and by rubbing the hind leg against the wing make that rattle at which all the husbandmen and vine dressers tremble as the insectile host takes up the march of devastation. Resurrection every seventeen years! Another consideration makes the idea of resurrection easier. God made Adam. He was not fashioned after any model. There had never been a human organism, and so there was nothing to copy. At the first attempt God made a perfect man. He made him out of the dust of the earth. If out of ordinary dust of the earth and without a model God could make a perfect man, surely out of the extraordinary dust of the mortal body, and with millions of models, God can make each one of us a perfect being in the resurrection. Surely the last undertaking would not be greater than the first. See the gospel algebra: ordinary dust minus a model equals a perfect man; extraordinary dust and plus a model equals a resurrection body. Mysteries about it? Oh, yes; that is one reason why I believe it. It would not be much of a God who could do things only as for nc T nan linHnrcfnnH- Mvsfcprif?s' Oh. yes; but no more about the resurrection of your body than about its present existence. I will es plain to you the last mystery of the resurrection, and make it as plain to you as that two and two make four, if you will tell me how your mind, which is entirely independent cf your body, can act upon your body so that at your will your eyes op*>n, or your foot walks, or your hand is extended. So I find nothing in the Bible statement concerning the resurrection that staggers me for a moment. All doubts clear from my mind, I say that the cemeteries, however beautiful now, will be more beautiful when the bodies of our loved ones come up. They will come in improved condition. They will como up jested. The most of them lay down at the last very tired. How often you have heard them say: "I am so tiredP The tact is it is a tired world. If I should go through this audience, and go round the world, I could not find a person in any style of life ignorant of the sensation of fatigue. I do not believe there are fifty persons in this audience who are not tired. Your head is tired, or your back is tired, or your foot is tired, or your brain is tired, or your nerves are tired. Long journeying, or business application, or bereavement, or sickness have put on you heavy weights. So the vast majority of those who went out of this world went out fatigued. About the poorest place to rest in is this world. Its atmosphere, its surroundings, and even its hilarities are exhausting. So God stops our earthly life, and mercifully closes the eyes, and quiets the feet, and folds the hands,and more especially gives quiescence to the lnngs and heart, that nave not had ten minutes' rest from the first respiration and the first beat. If a drummer boy were compelled in the army to beat his drum for twenty-four hours without stopping, his officer would be courtmartialed for cruelty. If the drummer boy 1 11 i - -1 ~-1 ^ni1m fs\y a Snoil 1Q De COUILUUUUUU W ucau uu ui uui ? week without ceasing, day and night, he would die in attempting it.* But under your vestment is a poor heart that began its drum beat for the march of life thirty or forty or sixty or eighty years ago, and it has had no furlough by day or night; and, whether in :onscious or comatose state, it went right on, for if it had stopped seven seconds your life would have closed. And your heart will keep joing until sometime after your spirit has Sown, for the auscultator says that after the last expiration of lung and the last throb of pulse, and after the spirit is released, the heart keeps on beating for a time. What a mercy then it is that the grave is the place where that wondrous machinery of ventricle and artery can halt! Under the healthful chemistry of the soil all the wear and tear of nerve and muscle ind bone will be subtracted and that bath of good, fresh, clean soil will wash off the last ache, and then some of the same style of dust out of which the body of Adam was constructed may be infused into the resurrection body. How can the bodies of the human race, which have had no replenish| ment from the dust since the time or Adam j in paradise, get any recuperation from the store-house from which he was constructed without our going back into the dust? That original, life-giving material having been added to the body as it once was, and all the iefects left behind, what a body will be the I resurrection body! And will not hundreds i of thousands of such appaaring above the I Gowanus heights make Greenwood more beautiful than any June morning after a 3hower? The dust of the earth being the original material for the fashioning of the first human being, we have to go back to the same place to get a perfect body. Factories are apt to be rough places, and those who toil in them have their garments grimy and their hands I smutched. But who cares for that, when they turn out for us beautiful musical instruments or exquisite upholstery! What though the grave is a rough place, it is a resurrection body manufactory, and from it sha!', some the radiant and resplendent forms of our friends on the brightest morning the world saw ever. You put into a factory cotton, and it comes out apparel. You put into a factory lumber and lead, and it comes out pianos and organs. And so into the factory of the grave you put in pneumonias aud cou sumption^ and they come out health. You put in groans, and they come out hallelujahs. For us, on the final day, the most attractive places will not be the parks or the gardens or the palaces, but the cemeteries. TV e are not told in wbat season that day will come. If it should be winter, those win come up will be mors lustrous than the snow that coverei them. If iu the autumn, those who come up will be more gorgeous than the I woods after the frosts have penciled them. If in the spring, the bloom on which they | tread will be dull compared with the rubicund of their cheeks. Oh the perfect resur| rectiou body! Almost every one has soma defective spot in his physical constitution; a dull ear, or a dim eye, or a rheumatic fool, or a neuralgic brow, or a twisted muscle, or a weak side, or an inflamed tonsil, or so:n3 point at which the east wind or a season of overwork assaults him. But the resurrection body shall bo without one weak spot, and all that the doctors and nurses and apothecaries of earth will there- i after have to do will be to rest without inter* ruption alter me oroKou ingnn ui uueu ran mly existence. Not only will that day b3 t!w beatification of well kept cemeteries, but some of the graveyards that have been neglected, and been tho pasture ground for cattle and rooting places for swine, will for tug first time have attractiveness given them. It was a shame that in that place ungrate* ful generations planted no trees, uud twist 4 no garlands, and sculptured no marble for tneir Christian ancestry; but on the day of which I 9peak the resurrected shall make the place of their feet glorious. From under the shadow of the church, where they slumbered among nettles and mullen stalks and thistles, and slabs aslant, they shall rise with a glory that shall flash the windows of the village church, and by tho bell tower that used to call them to worship, and above the old spire beside which their prayers formerly ascended. What triumphal procession never did for a street, what an oratorio never did for an academy, what an orator never did for a brilliant auditory, what olielisk never did for a King, resurrection mom will do for all the cemeteries. This Easter tells us that in Christ's resur- j rection our resurrection, if we are His. and the resurrection of all the pious dead is a.? sured, for He was "the first fruits of them that slept."' Kenan nays He did not rise, but five hundred and eighty witnesses, sixty of nkricfc nnomio'! on v Hrt i!i?! risiv for I they saw Him after Ho had risen. If lie did not rise, how did sixty armed soldiers lot Him get away? Surely sixty living soldiers ought to be able to keep one dead man! Blessed be God I He did get away. After His resurrection Mary Magdalene saw Him. Cleopas saw Him. Ten disciples in an upper room at Jerusalem saw Him. On a mountain the eleven saw Him. Five hundred at once saw Him. Professor Ernest Renan, | who did not see Him, will excuse us for tak- . ing the testimony of the Ave hundred and . eighty who did see Him. Yes, yes; He got away. And that makes me sure that our tl<?- | parted loved ones and we ourselves shall get j away, "Freed Himself from tha shackles of | * IliHnk , / clod, Re la not going to leave us and oure in the lurch. Thgre will bo no door knob on the inside of SBmy sepmcnre, tttt ws camros come out, of ourselves; but there is a door knob on the outside, and that Jesus shall lay hold of, and opening, will say: "Good morning! You have slept long enough! Arise! Arise!" And then what flutter of wings, and what flashing of rekindled eyes, and what gladsome rushing across the family lot, with cries of "Father, is that you?" "Mother, is that you?" "My darling, is that you?" "How you all have changed I The cough gone, the croup gone, the consumption gone, the paralysis gone, the weariness gone. Come, let us ascend together! The older ones first, the younger one3 next! Quick, now, get into line! '1 he skyward procession has already started! Steer now by that embankment of cloud for the nearest gate!" And as we ascend, on one side the earth gets smaller until it is no larger than a mountain, and smaller until it is no larger than a palace, and smaller until it is no larger than a ship, and smaller until it is no larger than a wheel, and smaller until it is no larger than a speck. Farewell, dissolving earth! But on the other side, as we rise, heaven at first appaars no larger than your hand. And nearer it looks like a chariot, and nearer it looks like a throne, and nearer it looks like a star, and nearer It looks like a sun, and nearer it looks like a universe. Hail, scepters that shall always wave! Hail, anthems that shall always roll! Hail, companionships never again to be broken, and friendships never again to part! That is what Resurrection day will do for all the cemeteries and graveyards, from the M?/;hr>?lfth that was nnened bv Father Abra ham in Hebron to the Machpelah yesterday consecrated. And that makes Lady Huntington's immortal rhythai most apposite: When Thou, my righteous Judge, shalt como To take Thy ransomed people home, Shall I among them stand? Shall suoh a worthless worm as I, Who sometimes am afraid to die. Be found at Thy right hand? Among Thr saints let ma be found, Whene'er th' archangel's trump shall soundf To see Thy smiling face: Tben loudest of the throng I'll sing, While heaven's resounding arches ring With shouts of sovereign grace. TEMPERANCE. A SOJfO OF FREEDOM. All things hare a voice in this beautiful world; In music the earth through its orbit is hurled; The sunshine, the dew, and the daisy are heard Singing praises to God, with the bee and the bird; And the anthem that floats o'er the infinite sea Is the chorus of earth: "We are free; we are freeT' But what sayeth man, with his God-given powers, Whose sceotre of thought buildeth cities and toners? What says the master of science and art? Is freedom the song that pulsates at his heart? Alas! he hath learned not the lay of the wave: In sorrow he sighs, "I'm a flave! I'm a slave!" A slave to the wine-cup, to passions that hold His spirit in bondage to silver and gold; A slave to the fashions, that live but a day, To honors aud titles that vanish away, Still paltry the glory, the wealth, that he craves; Ah! well may we sigh, "We are slaves! we are slaves!" We are slaves! but a voice o'er humanity's sea Is waiting to join in the hymn of the free: 'Tis rising aud swelling in volume and might, Proclaiming the triumph of freedom and right! Ere long we shall sing, with the bird aud bee, In anthems of joy, "We are free! we are free!" ?Belle Bush, in the Voice. A SA310AN PROCLAMATION. Ttin Vinor nt Ssmnn ia n nrnhiliilionisfc. as witness the following proclamation: "Nc spirituous, vinous or Fermented liquors or intoxicating drinks whatever shall be sold, given or offered to or bought or bartered by any native Samoan or Pacific Islander rest dent in Samoa to lie taken as a beverage. Any one who shall be fouud guilty of th? violation of this provision shall be punished by a fine not exceeding $100, or by imprison ment not exceeding six months, or by botl fine and imprisonment, aud the liquor not yet consumed shall be confiscated." MONET SPENT FOR INTOXICA.NT9. The actual amount of malt liquors conmimed in 1888 was 767,587,056 gallons. This includes not quite 3,000,000 gallons of imported beer and ale. The manufacturer's ' price to the retailer is above rather than below twenty cents per gallon. At twenty ] eeuts the cost to the dealer would be $153,517,411. The retailers get an average of sixty cents per gallon, which makes tho cost to the consumers $400,522,233, which the American people spend annually for malt liquor, principally beer. The most careful estimate puts the cost of wiue to the con* sumer at $72,670,136, and of distilled spirits $379,226,860. This gives us a grand total of $912,449,129, nearly one billion dollars speut annually for liquor by the people of the United States. How few p3ople realize the enormous expense the use of liquor entails on the people. Aside from the tax imptised I Kit flio hdnaral rinrommont fchrt ln^nl t_AY nn I the trade is not five per cent, of the cost. The I cost to Otoo is about $60,000,000 per annum; the local tax is $2,250,000, which is but a trifle over four'per cent.?Sandusky (Ohio) Register. HEN'RY GEO ROB ON LIQUOR. Writing in the Arena, of Boston, Henry George says, truly enough, that "the rum power is a colossal villainy, and a fearfully dangerous factor in the politics of the country. It controls two great parties, runs their primaries, largely constitutes their conventions and furnishes large sums of money from its enormous business and great profits as a corruption fund." He is also correct in saying that the license system is what gives the traffic its power in politics. But wo cannot agroe with his statement that "there is only oneway of eliminating it from politics, and that is by doing away with all restrictions from the Federal tax to the municipal licenset and permitting free trade in rum." There is another way, and the only effectual way, and that is to prohibit the traftic altogether. Wo are opposed to license because the traffic is a crime whicU it is a crime to license; and because license entrenches and perpetuates the traffic, aud is the chief barrier to Prohibition. Nor do we agree with Mr. George's opinion that the removal of all restrictions would result in the destruction of the business by making liquor so cheap that there would be no profit in it. Liquor dealers are friendly to the license system, not merely because it increases their profits, but because they know that it is the otiiy thing that reconciles the majority of voters to the existence of the traffic.? | Union Signal. TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. The retail liquor traffic is now prohibited ii seventy-nine municipalities of the '.Yo vince of Manitoba. The Chicago Globes ays about 1*25,000 persons nre dependent upon the Chicago saloon business for their necessaries of life. Senator Dawes recently presented ove1 240 petitions from Massachusetts against th^ liquor traffic with tne native races of Africa. A native movement has begun in Bombay, ono of tho rules of which is that no man must drink spirits except under meJical advice. Statistics tell us that during the last twenty-five years, the sale of beer in the United States has increased from two million bar rols to twenty-four million. At tho recent magnificent reception given to Irving M. Scott, President of the L nion Iron Works in San Francisco, by his employes and friends, temperance refreshments were servod by A\". C. T. U. at tho special request of this largo body of workingmen. Mrs. Alice M. Howell, of Tuscola, 111., lias commenced a suit in the Circuit Court against Conrad Shilling.a well-known citizen, claiming $10,000 damages because of his having supplied her husband with liquor, thereby depriving herself and family of support. I The Mayor of Oxford. England, after hearing that in one district containing only 300 houses altogether, there were, within n radius of a hundred yards, ton licensed bw shops, besides four beer-houses, concluuoi that no "sufficient reason" had been given for refusing the renewal of all those licenses, g-.v.-//. iliaiGIOUSJEADim 8CFFICTE5TT CKTO THE DAT. Because in a day of my days to comd There waiteth a grief to be, Shall my heart grow faint, and my iipa b dumb, In this day that is bright for me? . Because of a subtle sense of pain, Like a pulse-beat threaded through The bliss of my thought, shall I dare refrain Prom delight in the pore sod true? In the harvest-fields shall I cease to glean Since the bloom of the spring has fled? Shall I veil mine eye? to the noon-d?f sheen, Since the dew of the morn hath sped? Say, phantom ill with the warmng hand. Nay, ghosts of the weary past; Serene as in armor of faitn I stand Ye may not hold me faet. Your shadow* across my sun may fall, But as bright the sun shall shine;. For I walk in a light ye cannot pall, 1 he light of the King divine. | ?* And whatever He sends from day to day, I am sure that His name is Love; A#d He never will let me lose my way HH To my rest in His home above. ?Jfargoret E. Uantf/ster. rfsH| OPENING THK HEART. * H T lrnaw a littln hnv TrhrvQO hflfirfc trfla R " touched by a sermon on the words, ''Behold, I stand at the door and knock." My mother said to him when she noticed that he was anxious: "Robert, what would you say to any one who knocked at the door of your heart, if you wished him to come in?" He answered: "I'd say, 'Come in.'" She then said to him: "Then say to the " Lord Jesus, 'Come in.' " The next mori.ing there was a brightness and joy about Robert's face that made his father ask: "Robert, what makes you Iook so glad and joyful today?" He replied, joyfully: "I awoke in the night, and I felt that Jesus was si ill knock- J ing at the door of my heart for admittance . into it. I said to Him, 'Lord Jesus, come in!' I think He has come into my heart I feel happier this morning than I ever waa^JH in all my life. How ungrateful and wicked*" in me to keep Him waiting outside so longP' -Selected. ' prepare ye the way of tub lord. It is not necessary to be wonderful in order to be useful. "John did no miracle," his mission was to "cry in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord." He did j Lis work in a common way and was successful. Had miracles been necessary, God would have enabled Jobn to perform them, but he did not. If you and I were to be extraordinary persons, God would have given us extraordinary endowments, but He gave us common endowments, hence we should be willing to be common people. This is the kiua of people that do most good. Wonder-workers are not in demand today. The Master's cause wants workers, not wonders, nor cherubs, nor prodigies, but common-sense men and women who will go about their business silently proclaiming, 1 "Prepare ye the way of the Lord." Alas, that so many cut large figures in religious circles who have no emphatic testimony for Christ as a present Saviour of sinners. Is he a blessing to the world who by word or walk belies the character and power of Jesus Christ??Evangelical Messenger. HOLY LIFK. The beauty of a holy life constitutes the most eloquent persuasive to religion which one human being can address to another. We have many ways of doing good to our fellow-creatures, but none so good, so efficacious as leading a virtuous, upright and well-ordered life. There is an energy of moral suasion in a good man's life, passing the highest efforts of the orator's genius. The seen but silent beau'v of holiness speaks more eloquently of God and duty tnan the tongues of men and angels. Let parents remember this. The best inheritance a parent can bequeath to a child is a virtuous example; a legacy of hallowed remembrances. The beauty of holiness beaming through the life of a loved relative or friend is more effect h?T to strengthen such as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are 1 bowed down, than precept, command, entreaty, or warning. Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the greater part of its moral power, not to the precept or parables of Christ, but to his own character. The beauty of that holiness which is enshrined in the four brief biographies of the man of Nazareth, has done more, and will do more to regenerate the world and bring it to an everlasting righteousness, than all other agencies put together. It has done more to spread nis religion in me worm mau an that has ever been preached or written on the evidences of Christianity.?Dr. Chalmert. A CAGED DEER. There may be a lesson in the following narrative, given by a lady a few days ago, of value to some of our reaaers: "I was at one of New York's summer resorts last year on its closing day for the season. The workmen were engaged In caging quite a number of animals that had furnished interest and amusement to the children and grown people who had frequented the grounds during the summer. Among these animals was a most graceful and beautiful little creature?a deer?that had been captured in its native woods of Virginia. The wooden box into which it was to be put was placed near the door of its cage, and the door partly opened. Ope of tlii workmen clipped a" rop$ ePj.yM &? neck ofthe dee? and geutK' pliilea on the rope to draw the ahimal into its bosf. The deer, feeling the rope around its heck, ran frantically about its cage, dashed itself against the bars, *' " J S ? ? - -J f A mrew liscu uown 111 mau aucmw^ i,v **% h itself of the rope, and endangered life and I limb in trying to free itself from its captors. 9 After a time it got into such a position that with little effort it was drawn and forced I into the box unharmed. The poor little ifl thing did not know that its captors were its very best friends. Left in its cage it would BB hare perished miserably of cold during tha_^^B coming fall and winter. In its padded it was lifted gently into a cart and borne to the dock where a steamer waited to transport it with its companions in captivity to a ? warm structure, where it would be" care- I fully taken care of during the winter, and in the summer it would again be brought back to its ca<*e at the summer resort. H "As I watched the agonized captive strug- I gling to free itsel f from its rope, and re- H sisting all attempts to remove it from the B cage, I thought when the rope of circam- H stance?of Providence is thrown around my neck,and I am irresistibly drawn and fore d 9 into narrower and unwelcome places, I will B not beat my head against the bars that close I me round; I will not strangle myself with H the rope about my neck; I will not resist H the compelling forces that would make me go where I do not choose to. I will cheer- ^ fully, obediently bow to the Divine will, H trusting that He who loved me and gave I Himself for me does even what seems hard and cruel and intolerable for my good. Were I to stay where I chose to stay I H might perish miserably. Following His H guidance I shall be borne gently to that H {>lace He has prepared for me. I will not H ear the narrow box in which I must some time lie still and cold, for over the waters of H death He will bear my soul to paradise." n A Christian may eujov a calm and inward H peace, while he sustains the storms of out- H ward trouble. If he enjovs the former he may expect the latter; if he surfer the latter H he may expect the former. 'I here is no H spring without its fall; no summer without fl its winter.?SAer. H at Uruenn, Austria, ourgiars nave B circumvented the use of iron shutters H for store windows by cutting a hole in H the glass through tlie little rounu noie h left iu tlio shutter for ventilation, and H then fishing for tho valuables inside H with a hook and line. Perhaps the most powerful electrio light in tho world is iu u3e in the Houstholm lighthouse on the coast of Jutland. It ia of 2,000,000 candle jB power, and is visible at a distance of.