The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, May 28, 1890, Image 2

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A PERFECT DAY. White roses are swaying Ami meekly displaying Their shell-fashioned petals, So fragile and cold. While bluebirds are flying Where alders are sighing, The winds on the wavelets The lilies unfold. O'er meadows the brightest Drift cloudlets the whitest, Down softest and bluest Of summery skies. The apple tree twinkles, And in the air sprinkles Its blossoms that flutter Like white butterflies. The crystal brook gushes, The wild flower blushes, The trailing arbutus Is pink on the slope; The valleys a-tremble, That Eden resemble, Are sunny and fragrant With kisses of hope. Ob, hours serenest. The rosiest, greenest. Gold-vestured and graceful As swans on a stream! Our souls keen reneatinsr. "Oh wherefore so fleetiug, Like faces we only Can see in a dream'r" ?Ii. K. Munkittrick, in Youth's Companion. THE WEDDING GIFT. "A package for you," said the dearest girl in the world, as she ran iorward and j brought me a a long, narrow box. "An- j other wedding gift, I am sure. I won- i der what it is and from whom it can be." ; Angelica clasped her hands, and looked so unutterably happy that my cup 1 of joy was full to the brim. "Who would be more exultant than we two? It was i the first week after our wedding, and we ; had just returned to our cozy nest at 1139 North Three Hundred and Seventy- j third street, in the famous city of Cos-1 mopolis. Another wedding gift! My ardent , fancy rapidly evolved its hidden possibilities, from a dainly fruit-knife to a chaste spoon, from an elaborate candelabrum to an old-fashioned pair of tongs. What could it be ? "It may be a parasol for me," said Angelica, cviug the package affection- j atelv. ' Or an umbrella for me,'' I rejoined, with a quizzical look. "Or a roll of silk, my dear," she hazarded. "Or a bootjack, my love," 1 replied, j seizing my knife and preparing to cut the string. '*It has taken a long time to come.any j way," she added. "A whole week." "You forget, sweetheart, that it came ! by a district messenger boyand with a lonrrVi T nrxnrtaA fltA ttonl'orro TViiA?i 'in. iau^u jl v|/vuv.u kiiv ?? uv.? wu other box and a letter were disclosed to view. 11 We both grasped the letter, and a)- ': lowed the package to glide to the floor. "Angelica!" I exclaimed, in ray most ! positive tones, "I recognize the handwriting. It is?it is Uncle John's!" j( "Oh, how nice! the dear, sweet old ; i man. So gentle, is he-not, John? I always said I would love him for your ] sake." And she gave me one of her j brightest glances. < "Well, my love, he is a gentle creat- j 1 ure, to be sure; but?but he is decidedly j ] eccentric. Any way, I am glad that he : has thought of us, even at this late date, j ] I was always led to believe that I was his \ favorite nephew." j j "Of course he couldn't help loving > ] rmi lipst nf all: T couldn't. rnuld I. Johu?" ' No.indeed,little miax. You couldn't, * you wouldn't and you shouldn't," I responded with fervor, and then read aloud his letter: "Dear Old Boy?lam overjoyed to bear of your marriage, and regret that a villainm ous" attack of gout prevented my attendance j at the ceremouy. I hear that your wife is i all that is gentle and good. Happy fellow! ' I have known you so long aud intimately j : that I heartily rejoice at your good fortune. ( Do come up with her to see me when the first glow of the honeymoon is over. Mean- : while I beg of you to accept the accompanying as the most fitting gift I could think of presenting to you both. It has virtues more j valuable than fine gold, and its powers, preserved and strengthened through the ages, have an efficacy little dreamed of by mortal man. uuaru u, anu it. wiuguam you. i. reas- i ure it as your home's holiest phylactery. It will be an infallible record of your affection; ' a dial of lo 'e, which never needs regulation; j for it ruus by occult attachment ana psychic force. "In the fond hope that you will prize it for . my sake and your owu, Affectionately, "John Crump." j "Goodness!" I cricd, as soon as I re- ! covered breath. "This s a pretty letter! J! But what does the old fellow mean by j: dial and attachment aud psychic force? ; : Is he demented?" "Oh, dearest!" Angelica exclaimed, : 1 edging away from the package, still on 1 the floor. "I am so frightened. Shall I | ' send for mother?" "No," I rejoined, with rather pre- i j juu iiwu u<n suuu iul : your mother." And then I added, in my J: most heroic tones: "There is no occa- J: sion for alarm. The package surely is i ' harmless. It can't be a Florida alligator j or a dynamite cartridge. Come, love, we i shall open it together. One heart, one j fate!'1 I exclaimed, melodramatically; and soon before our astonished gaze was ! ; presented the tiniest little thermometer ! in the world. j: "Athermometer!'' was our first ex- j clamation. "The brute!" was the next, j "Docs he want to insult me?" I cricd , in a ra^e. "Let us send it back?the odious | wretch!" was Angelica's observation, the j heroism of which can be gathered from ! the fact that my uncle was a millionaire, aud 1 was supposed to be his favorite and his heir. A silence deep, profound, immeasur- j able, fell upon js?our hearts aloue were audible. A sudden ine.\p!ieuble mystery | seemed to surround us both. The air be- j came oppressive. What hidden agency , wits at work? \\ hat subtle powers were inspiring us with apprehension? "We could not speak, we could hardly breathe, .so intense was our agitation. I glanced again at the thermometer. My eyes were ' riveted upon some lettering, and we both read simultaneously: "Love's Thermom- J eter, patented by the Society for Psychic , Keseaivh." And straying downward our astonished gaze caught these lines from Browning: " O worid, as God has inada it I All is beau- , ty; And knowing this, is love, and love is duty. "What further may be sought for or de- : dared f "Why, Angelica," I cried, "this is a , strange, I might almost say, a wondrous ! thermometer," eying it more respectful- j * ' ly, and with less wrath toward iny philosophic uncle. "Oh, John, look, look!" she exclaimed, pointing to some words o' i the other side of the plate: ' Between blisi hate Doth oscillate Your 11.oral fate." 4'Oh, darling," and the poor girl was about to sob in her fear. "Shall we not send for mother ?"' "Send for your mother?" I repeated. "Seud for fiddlesticks, said I, with reckless irreverence. "Why, see there! Look?" and along the side of the instrument were the words: "Bliss heat, 120 degrees; affection. 100 degrees; friendship, 80 degrees; indifference, 60 degrees; colduess, 40 degrees; aversion, 20 degrees; hatred. 0 degrees." "Oh, John," was my wife's appeal, "dou't keep the horrid thing in the house. I am sure it is something dreadful;" and a few tears did gather in her eyes. "Hare no fear, Angelica," I cried, kissing away her tears. "Have no fear. See, the thermometer stands at 120 de- : grees; bliss heat, dearest. Hurrah for psychic force!" And the dear girl actually laughed iu the swift transition of feeling, and joined in the rapturous hurrah. "Hurrah for Uncle John!" we < then both exclaimed together, and An- j gelica kissed the thermometer in her enthusiasm. The warm-hearted girl! Bliss heat, now and forever! How kind, how ( noble of dear uncle, to send us what 1 would be a perpetual photograph, as it ; were, of love's youug dream! Aud that ] evening I prayed?Angelica joining in the aspiration?that uncle's gout would , soon forever disappear, and we resolved ] to invite hiin for a leugtliy visit. Then, | toward midnight, we stole down cauti- ] ously to the dining-room, where we had arranged a lovely niche for the thermome- 1 ter, and with what rapture did we note < how the psychic force still stood at bliss , heat?120 degrees. ] ' So shall it ever be!" was my pious ] exclamation, and Angelica responded with a fervent hand-clasp. ****** I wish to relate faithfully and soberly the history of that wedding gift, and its . inliuecce on our lives aud characters. If I relied on my memory alone I might ~ ? m^noni. in flrt C\ pernaps exuggcrmcj ui a^|/cai -w uw Happily there is another resource, and ( one whose exactness aud fidelity can be j depended upon. It is my diary, wherein j I ara accustomed to chronicle the throb- ^ biugs of my iuner life and the record of each passing day. A few pages will tell the whole eventful story. July 10th?Angelica was a charming vision at breakfast. She is bewitching j in every mood, and how ardently I love her. The muffius were exquisite. Dear, < noble little woman, so tender and so af- j fectionate! How beautiful she bakes! It will be rapture to teach her German, which is my passion. Shall iustrnct her j accordiugto the natural method, and then . read Don Carlos to her. Its ideal senti- ^ ments, its glowing imaginarv, its magniti' o o o * , I cent style, will inspire her with enthusiasm .... The thermometer at bliss heat s is our daily benediction. "We gaze at it l. at all hours, and then at each other. Both j tell the same story. How sweet is existence?surely life is worth living. It is j two weeks since our wedding. June 12th?A very curious occurrence happened this evening at dinner. I was just enjoying the roast lamb, when an 1 organ grinder appeared, and his monkey 3 begau to rub its nose against the window * bars. "Get off!" I cried, "you wretch!" 1 "Ah, John, do let it play. I love mon- c keys." "But, Angelica, that music dis- * turbs my appetite. Begone!" I cried ^ igain to the man. Angelica pressed her * handkerchief to her eyes. My angel ^ weeping! I gazed at the thermometer. r [t marked 100 degrees, and the psychic e force was rapidly falling. "Here!" I a shouted to the mau, "here is a dollar, ind come every evening at this hour." The man griuned, the monkey took off its cap, my angel smiled, and I was saved. Again the thermometer stood at 120 degrees. It was a narrow escape. ? Life, life, thou art a precipice?one false step, one heedless act, and the abyss re- * ceives us. To thiuk that our bliss was ^ almost wrecked by a monkey! j. June 14th?I gave my darling her first lesson in German by the natural method, j It went off beautifully. She has a lovely , A.ussprache; the words roll like velvet g from her lips. To hear her say das < Thermometer is an education in itself. c On coming home to dinner I found Angelica very much flurried. She explained j that the cook was ill, and she herself had to prepare the repast. I congratulated E her a thousand times until her eyes sparkled like uu electric light. I told * ber afterward, in a casual way, that the j, soup would have tasted better with mint instead of mace, and she burst at once J into tears, while to my horror the ther- j mometer oegan rapiuiy iatung uum si*i,y E degrees was reached. "Angelica!" I cried, "I was only jesting." And, f soothed by my endearments, her tears y. vanished, and she actually asked me to give her a second lesson in German; * while the thermometer just as rapidly ^ rose to bliss heat. It was again a nar- i row escape. And when I told her of it 3he murmured: "Dear John, forgive me! Jj I am so impatient!" Was ever mortal so happy? _ s June 15th?Happines is a sportive god. j It is never an abiding possession. So happy yesterday, aud to-night, as I write these lines, how wretched! Aud from such a trifle, too. My darling asked me why I did not come home earlier to din- 1 ner. I laughed at her remark, and gave t a bautering reply. "lam not jesting," 1 she rejoined. "You used to spring up j the stairs, aud now you saunter slowly." r "But, my love. I am tired when I comc I home." "If you really loved me," she s responded, "you would never be fatigued, j But you are tired of me, I suppose," and s .1.. i* 1 :..i_ i t r..u ...?n., .. !M1U uur&l# 1ULU IITU1*. JL it it i I'uuj YtAtu | at her want of sense, and such a cold, s dull paiu, burn of disappointment and 1: despair, seized me that 1 answered harsh- n ly. She looked at the thermometer, and \ my paralyzed tra/.e noted it swiftly fall- t in if, despite my imploring gestures, i Down, down, sank the psychic force un- i: til it reached twenty decrees (aversion), ( and with a shudder she left the room, re- t marking stingiugly: "This is your work, j sir."' My work! My work! And I < adore her, despite my harsh reply. Oh, I life, life, thou art a mystery! And c woman, thou art doubly a mystery. And I Angelica, thou art trebly a my3tery. t There was no German lesson to-day.... r To think that she cherishes aversion? 1 she of all beings. And I thought it t would be "bliss heat'' forever.... e I have not the heart to continue these c extracts from my diary. Their general ( tenor can be very well gathered; they re- 1 corded such changes in temperature that 1 we were both in despair. JSach mood on 7 our parts was faithfully, too faithfully, recorded. Each transcient impulse was unerringly transcribed. Each trifling word, each wandering frown, influenced the thermometer, and wo Were both so alarmed by its indications that we became'positively unhappy. We wished it always to be bliss heat, and were not prepared for the variations. One evening?it was hardly a month after the wedding?wc were, seated quietly in the parlor, when the bell rang und in walked Uncle Johu. "I never felt so well in my life, children," he exclaimed in his heartiest tones. "Gout all gone"'?and he slapped his leg to prove the fact?"so I thought I would come to the city and see you." And he kissed Angelica and pulled my whiskers. Then he burst into a merry laugh, which was so catching that my wife and I laughed too, the first time in two hours, for at dinner that wretched thermometer had fallen to sixty degrees (indifference), aud we were in despair. "Come, come, kitten," said he to Angelica, caressing her iorehead; "tell me all about it. What is the mystery? Woe rtnt. fpllnw l>ecn vexincr vou? Come, let your old uncle be your father confessor. Now, then, out with it." Angelica's response was to cling to the old gentleman and sink her head upon his shoulder. I am sure the dear girl was weeping. "John, John, you wretch!" he exclaimed. "What have you been doing to her? What makes my child so worried?" And the old fellow began to pet her furionslv. My courage gave way. At the sight :>f her weeping all self-control was gone. [ made a clean eonfession, and blamed the thermometer for the change in our home. "Come, children," said he in his blandest way. "Here, John, you take 3ne knee, and Angelica, my love, rest jn the other. Now I have you both, and [ wish you to answer me truly. Do you love each other?" "Yes, yes!" was our reply. "Then what is the trouble?" "The trouble is just here. We wish it always to be bliss heat, but that thermometer, sir, marks every variation, and t makes us both unhappy." And I took jut my handkerchief and pressed it to ny eyes. "Ah," was his comment; "just as I supposed. Come, now, I am going to ecture you both. You demand a miracle, [t is impossible to maintain bliss heat for all time. Life most havo its transitions ind variations?you might find it pretty nonotonous otherwise. Do not heed the luctuations if love is the central purpose, md that is strong and abiding. But lave patience and mutual consideration, ind be quick to forget and forgive, steer clear of all extremes and superatives. Prefer the temperate zone, and fear by year your happiness will be eared on a foundation that shall never :>e moved. Let your own hearts be ove's thermometer; you will care less or the other one, whose cfficacy?I night as well tell you now?is purely imiginary. It reflected only your own noods, and your imaginations endowed t with subtle powers. But enough. ] must be off before it is too late. Goodright, children. Another kiss, Angelica. TnVm " "*wu vw*"" ****** The thermometer still hangs in its liche, but is has lost for us its charm, ilthough its lesson was salutary. "VVe lave learned the truth and beauty of Jncle John's little sermon. We arc not listurbed at any transient gust, for we ;now our hearts are true to each other. IVo do not pine for bliss heat, and never lave allowed our affection to sink to zero. ?Ve fiud blessedness enough in each day's ecord, and, lookingat the bright side of :very annoyance and sorrow, have secured .bundaut compensation.?Frank Leslie's. Financial Simplicity of the Boers. A certain Mr. F., wishing to pur:hase a farm in Africa, the Boer pro>rietor diligently refused to accept bills, :hecks or notes. lie would have his >rice ($125,000) in sovereigns, or he vould not sell. So the golden bullion vas with much trouble brought to the louse. "Will you not stop to dinner?" sked the farmer, and at its conclusion ilr. F., when bidding adieu, observed: 'Well, I suppose we may at last con ider our transactions quite complete." 'Not quite," said the Boer; "you still iwe me eighty-se^cn cents for the dinier." The next episode was that the armer, worried with the custody of so ouch coin in his house, resolves with aany misgivings to pay the purchase Qoney into the Standard Bank, but the ollowing week he demands to withdraw lis deposit, and the hard cash is again >roduced. He counts it over carefully, ,nd, once more reassured, shoves it back nto the cashier's hands. The Boers do iot, in fact, seem to have the slightest :omprehension of the first principles of inance. Another of this class asked a >ank what would be the terms for his >roposed deposit of ?125,000. "We will five you six per cent.," replied the lerk, not understanding the drift, of the 'You pay me for taking care of my >roperty?" said the Boer. "No, no; I | ,m not such a fool as to believe that, fou are up to some trick!" And h? intantly broke off the negotiation.? Blackwood's Magazine. Outwitting a Shirker. An Anglo-Indian officer, of the Bengal Artillery, relates an anecdote of one of hose soldiers who in military phrase are :nown as malingerers, but whom common teoplc would call shirks. A gunner, tamed Ichabod Crabb, went to sec the lospital authorities on the subject of a trauge affection of the back,-which compiled him to walk somewhat in the hapcof a capital C. "I ain't in no great win," he said, " 'cept when I tries to tand herect, an' then me back seems to >reak clean in two. I couldn't stand up, lot if my life depended on it." As there vas heavy gun-drilling going on at this iine, Dr. Tritton formed his own opin ou of the case, ami determined to let me nan work out his own cure. He ordered 'rabb's breakfast to be placed on a high :iij>boanl in the wall, to reach which the jatient would have to stand erect. At linncr-timc the cook reported Ciabb's jreakfast to be uutouclied. "Put his liuner in the same place," commanded )r. Tritton, and the treatment was coninucd throughout the day. The next norning when the doctor called to see lis patient, he found that his prescripioti had been efficacious. Crabb had :aten his supper and breakfast, and de:lared himself fit for duty. "Cupboard >abb," as he was called, confessed that ic had tried to deceive the "old doctor," jut had found himself beaten.?Argoi a. At. REV. Dfi. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINES SUNDAY SEIOION. Subjcct: " The Ascension of Christ." Text: "Lift up your hearts, 0 ye. nates; and be ye. lifted up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of Glory shall come in."?Ps. xxiv., 7. In olden times when a great conquerer returned from victorious war, the people in wild transport would take hold of the gates of the city and lift them from their hinges, as much as to say: "This city needs no more gates to defend it since this conqueror has got home. Off from the hinges with the gates!" avid, who was the poet of poets, fortells in his own way the triumphal entrance of Christ into heaven after His victory over sin and death and hell. It was as if the celestial inhabitants had said: "Here He comes! Make way for Him! Push back the bolts of diamond! Take hold" of the doors of pearl and hoist them from their hiuges of gold! Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of Glory shall come in." Among the mountains of Palestine no one is more uplifting than Mount Olivet. It was the peroratfbn of our Lord's ministry. On the roof of a house in Jerusalem I asked, "Which is Olivet}1" and the first glance transfixed me. But how shall I describe J-L - -1?_ _# my emotions, wnen near ms uiuae ui a journey, in which we had for two nights encamped amid the shattered masonry of old Jericho, and tasted of the acrid waters of the Dead Sea, that crystal sarcophagus of the buried cities of the plain, ana waded down into the deep and swift Jordan to baptize a mail, and visited the ruins of the house of Mary aud Martha and Lazarus, we found ourselves in stirrups and on horse, lathered with the long aud difficult way, ascending Mount Olivet? Oh, that solemn and suggestive ridge! It is a limestone hill, a mile in length, and 300 feat high, and ?700 feet above the level of the sea. Over it King David fled with a broken heart. Over it Pompey led his devastating hosts. Here the famous Tenth Legion built their batteries in besiegement. The Garden of Grethsemaue weeps at the foot of it. Along the base of this hill flashed the lanterns and torches of those who came to arrest Jesus. From the trees on this hill the boughs were torn off and thrown into the path of Christ's triumphal procession. Up and down that road Jesus had walked twice a day from Bethany to Jerusalem, and from Jerusalem to Bethany. xneret again ana again, He had taught Hi? disciples. Half way up this mount He uttered His lamentation: "0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem!" From its height Jesus took flight homeward when He had finished His earthly mission. There is nothing more for Him to do. A sacrifice was needed to make peace between the recreant earth and the outraged heaven, and He had offered it. Death neelei to be conquered, and He had put His resurrection foot upon it. The thirty-three years of voluntary exile had ended. The grandest, tendere3fc, mightiest good-by ever heard was now to ba uttered. On Mount Olivet Jesus stands in a group of Galilee fishermen. They had been together in manv scenes of sadness and persecution and had been the more endeared by that brotherhood of suffering. They had expected Him to stay until the day of coronation when He would take the earthly throne and wave a scepter mightier, and rule a dominion wider than any Pharoah, than anv David, than any Cssar. But now all these anticipations collapse. Christ has given His last advice. He has offered His last sympathy. He has spoken His iast word. His hands are spread apart as one is apt to do when ho pronouces a benediction, when suddenly tho strongest and most stupendous law of all worlds is shattered. It is the law which, since the worlds were created, hold them together. It is tho law which holds everything to the earth, or temporarily hurled from earth, returns it; the law which keeps the planets whirling around our sun, and our solar system whirling around other systems, and all the systems whirling around the throne of God? the law of gravitation. That law is suspended, or relaxed, or broken, to let the body of Jesus go. That law had laid hold of Him thirty-three years before, when He descended. It had relaxed its grip of Him but once, and that when it declined to sink Him from the top of the waves on Lake Galilee, on which He walked, to the bottom of tho lake. That law of gravitation must now give way to Him who made the law. It may hold the other stars, but it cannot longer hold th9 Morning Star of the Redemption. It may hold the noonday sun, but it caunot hold the Sun of Righteousness. Tho fingers of that law are about to open to let go the most illustrious Being the world has ever seen, and whom it had worst maltreated. The strongest law of nature which philosophers ever weighed or measured must at last give way. T4- will Kxoalr hhornplr nf Olivph nn'?"l the heel of Christ's foot. Watch it, all ye disciples! Watch it, all the earth! Watch it, all the heavens! Christ about to leave this planet. How? His friends will not consent to have Him go. His enemies catching Him would only attempt by another Calvary to put Him into some other tomb. I will tell you how. The chain of the most tremendous natural law is unlinked. The sacred foot of our Lord and the limestone rock part, and part forever. Leaning back, and with pallid cheek and uplifted eyes, the disciples se9 their Lord rising from the solid oartu. Then, rushing forward, they would grasp His feet to hold Htm fast, but thoy are out of reach and it is too late to detain Him. Higher than the toDs of the lisr trees from which they had plucked the fruit. Higher than the olive trees that shaded the mount. Higher, until He is within sight of the Bethlehem where He was born, and the Jordan where He was baptized, and the Golgotha where He was slain. Higher, until on stairs of fleecy cloud He steps. Higher, until into a sky bluer than the lake that could not sink Him, He disappears into a sea of glory whose billowinc splendors hide Him. The fishermen watch and watch, wondering if the law of nature will not reassert itself and He shall in a few moments come back again, and they shall see Him descending, a....* tfo in ^irrht thftn "-o a?, the scarred side, than the scarred brow, anil they may take again His scarred hand. Bat the moments pass by and the hours, and r ) reappearance. Gone out of sight of earth, but come within sight of heaven. And rising still, not welcomed by one angelic choir likJ those who one Christmas night escorted Him down, but all heaven turns out to great Him home, and the temples have espscial anthe.n, and the palaces especial banquet, and the streets especial throngs; anl all along the line to the foot of the throne, for years vacated but now again to be taken, there are arches lifted, and banners waved, and trumpets sounded, and doxologies chantjd, and coronets cast down. The anijols throned Flis chariot wheels, An'! bore Him ta His throne; Then swept their s;old;n hirpj nad sin? "TIjj glorious work is done.'' It was th9 greatest day in heaven; As Ha | <>es H i tin stjpsof the throne that thirtyThree years bjfore He ab licite I for our al?\mta?e. th"'" rises from all tin hosts of heaven a shout, saintly, cherubic, sjraphic, irchaugelic. "Hallelujah! Amen!'' O garden of olives, thou deir honore l spot, The tamo of thy sjlory sit ill ne'er be forgot. No wonder that for at least fourteen hundred years the churches have, forty days ut'tor Wont As23iisio.i Div: for tin bs sons are most inspiring and'glorious. Ic takes much of the uncertainty out of tin idea of heaven, when from Olivet we sja human nature ascending. The same body that rose from Joseph's tomb ascended from Mount Olivet. Our human nature is iu heaven to- lay. Just as they had se.'ii Christ for forty days, Ho ascended, hea l, face, shoulders, hands, feet aud the entire human organism. Humanity ascendod! Ah, liowelosdy that keeps Christ in sympathy with those who are still in the struggle I " Ascended sears, face scars, hau 1 scars, feet scars, shoulder scars! That will ker> Him in accord with all tho suffering, with all the weary, with all the imposed upon. No more is He a spirit now than a body, no more of heaven than earth. Tlios-; of tho celestial inhabitants who nover saw our world now walk around Him and learn from His physical contour something of what our race will ba when, iu the resurrection, heaven will have uncoil at 31 -bodies as well as uncounted spirits. Oa Asoansion Day Ho lifted Himself through tin atmosphere of Palestine, until, amid the immensities. Ha disappeared. He was the only bsing the world ever saw who could lift Himself; surely if He could lift Himself He can do the lessar deed of lifting us. No star gos3 down but climhs another <<ky. No sail sets hero excapc to risa o:i high. Christ leads us all tha way; through tha V birth hour, for He was bora ia Bethlehem; 1, through boyhood, for He passsd it ia Nazi- a rath; through injustices, for He endured tin t outrage? of Pilate's court room; through i death, for He suffered it oa Calvary; through I the sepulchre, for He lay thraa days within r its darkened walls; through resurrection, t for the solid masonry gave way on the first o Easter morning; through asesnsioa, for fj . Mount Olivet watched Him as He climbe i the skies; through the shining gatas, for He f entered them amid magnificent acclatm. k And here is a gratifying consideration that g you nevar thought of: "We will sea our v Lord just as He looked on earth. As He t rose from the tomb He ascended from Mount L Olivet. We shall sea Him as He looked on a the road to Emmaus, as He appeared in the d upper room in Jerusalem, as He was that j day of valedictory on the ridge from which t He swung into the skies, iiow much we s will want to see Him. o I was reading of a man born blind. He was j married to on9 who took cara of him all those g years of darkness. A surgeoa said to him, j. "I can remove that blindness," and so he c did. His sight given him, a ro33 was handed 3 to the man who never before had seen a rose 0 and he was in admiration of it, and his fam- T ily whom he had never seen before now a,p- j peared to him, and h9 was in tears of rap- 8 ture, when he suddenly cried ont: "I ougat c first to have a3ked to see the one who cured j, me; show me the doctor." When from our , eyes the scales of earth shall fall, aad we have our first vision of heaven, our first cry ou?h1 not to be, "Where are my loved ones?" Our t first cry oughtto be, "Where is Christ, who [ made all this possible? Show me the doctor!" c Glory be to God for ascended humanity! t Could we realize it, and that it is all in sym- 3 pathy for us, we would have as cool a cour? ' age in the conflict of this life as had Charles t the T welfth wheh he was dictating dispatches f to his secretary, and a bombshell fell into c the room, and the secretary droppad his pan { and attempted flight. Charios said to him: t .-i: 1 Wk.t V.00 +V,, "UrO on. wisn your wriuug; nunuuui ; bombshell to do with the letter I am die- 5 tating?" If tlie ascended Christ ba oa our side, nothing should disturb U3. ; 'Our fellow sufferer yet retains i A fellow feeling in oar pains, : And still remembers, in the akie3, "*? His tears, His agonies, and cricj. , lam so glad that Clirist broke tha natural law of gravitation when Ha shook off from His feet tho clutch of .Mount Olivet. People talk as though cold, iron, unsympathetic, natural law controled everything. The reign of law is a majestic thing, but tha God who s made it has a right to break it, and again and again has broken it, an4 again and asain will break it. A law is only God's way of J doing things, and if Hechoosas to do them some other way Ho has a right to do so. A law is not strong enough to shackle the Al- a mighty. Christ broke botanical law when, one Monday morning in March, on the way from Bethany to Jerusalem, by a few words n He turned a full leaved fig tree into a lifeless stick. He broke ichthyological law when, without any natural n inducement, He swung; a great school of fisb into a part of Lake Tiberias, where the fish- , ermen had cast their nets for eight or ten D hours without the capture of a minnowj and by making a fish help pay the tax by yielding from its mouth a Roman stater. Christ broke the law of storni3 by compel- d ing, with a word, the angered sea to hush its frenzy, and the winds to quit tfceir bel- . lowing He broke zoological law when He * made the devils Dosses3 tha swine of Gadara. c Ho broke the law of economics when H< made enough bread for five thousand people ? out of five biscuits that would not ordinarily ? have been enough for ten of the hungry G He broke intellectual law when, by a word He silenced a maniac in placidity. He broke physiological law when, by a touch, * He straightened a woman who for eighteen v years had been bent almost double, anu when He put spring into the foot of inhumatec Lazarus, and when, without medicine, Hi s gave the dying girl back in health to th? o Syro-i'licenician mother, and when He madi the palatial home of the nobleman resound again with the laughter of his restored boy, b aud when, without knife or battery, He se n cataracted eyes to seeing again, and the drun .. of deaf ears to vibrating again, and th> 11 nerves of paralyzed arms to thrilling again and then when in leaving the earth He defiec n all atmospheric law and physiological law = and that law which has in it withes and tl cables and girders enough to hold the uni 51 verse, the law of gravitation. The Christ who proved Himself on so man] occasions, and especially the last, superior to f' law, still lives; and every day, in answer to 3 prayer for the good of the world, He is over l riding the law. Blessed be God that we are not tne subjects of blind fatality, but of a sympathizing divinity. Have you nevei , seen a typhoid fever break, or a storm sud- I denly quiet, or a ship a beam's-end right it- ' self, or a fog lift, or a parched sky break in ti showers, or a perplexity disentangled, or the inconsolable take solace, ot v.** lmwTFowi rafnrm nf. <?nll nf orAvari Q I have seen it; multitudes have seen 3 it. You have, if you have been willing ^ to se9 it. Deride not"the faith cure. Because impostors attempt it is nothing against good men whom God hath honored with marvel- A ous restorations. Pronounce nothing impossible to prayer and trust. Because you and I cannot effect it is no reason why others 3i may not. By the same ai gument I could n prove that Raphael never painted a Madonna, and that Mendelssohn never wrote an oratorio, and that Phidias never chiseled a statue. Because we cannot accomplish it ourselves, we are not to conclude that others may not. There are in immensity great ranges of mists which have proved, a under closer telescopic scrutiny, to be I the store house of worlds, and I do j not know but from that passage in . James, which to some of us is yet misty and 1 dim, there may roll out a new heaven and a c new earth: "The prayer of faith shall save ? the sick." The faith curists may, in this v war against disease, be only skirmishing before a general engagement, in which all the = maladies of earth shall be routed. Surely ( allopathy and homoeopathy and hydropathy \ and eclecticism need re-enforcement from somewhere. Why not from the faith and praver of the consecrated? The mightiest school of medicine may yet bs the school of t Christ. I do not know but that diseases now bv all schools pronounced incurable ? may give way untler Gospel bombard- 1 ment. I do not know but that the day c may come when faith and prayer shall rais9 a the dead. Strauss and Wools ton and Spin- ( oza and Hume and Schleiermacher rejected the miracles of the far past. I do not pro- s pose to be like them ana reject the miracles I of the far future. This I know?the Christ g of Ascension Day is mightier than any nat- * ural laws, for on the day of which I spialc He trampled down the strongest of them all. Law is mighty, but He who made it is g mightier. Drive out fatalism from your j theologv, and give grace the throne. Standing to-day on the Ascension peak of a Mount Olivet I am also gladdened at the t: closing gesture, tho last gesture Christ ever |j made. "He lifted up His hands and blesssed i them." says the inspired account of our ' Lord s departure. I am so glad He lifted 0 up His hands. Gestures are often more sig- ii nificant than words, attitudes than argu- (| ments. Christ had made a gesture of con- ] tempt when with His finger He wrote on the ground; gesture of repulsion wheu He said: b "U?t thee behind me, satan;" gesture of condemnation when He said: "Woe unto you, i. Pharisees and hypocrites. But His "last gesture. His Olivetic gesture, is a gesture of 0 benediction. He lifted up His hands and c Blessed them. Hts arms are extends 1, and j the palms of His hands turn id downward, , and so He dropped benediction upj:i Olivet, f benediction upon Palestine, benediction upon i( all the earth. Ii Tlip oriifil wiirli? fcnnk Him in nf flip start on a cradle of straw, and at last thrust ' Him out with the point of the spear; hut 51 benediction! Ascending until, beneath. He ii saw on ono side t!io Betb\-hem where they u put Him among the cattle, aud Calvary on the other side, where they put Him among the thieves. As far as the excited and in- <1 tensified vision of the group 011 Olivet could \\ seo Him, and after Hp was so far up they could no longer hear His words, they saw ' the gesture of the outspread hands, thi benediction. And that is His attitude to-day, f( Hi* benediction upon the world's climates, an-1 they are changing, and will keep on changing until the atmosphere shall be a a commingling of October an I June. Bene- I diction upon the deserts till they whiten wich lily, and blush with rose, and yello.v with .1 cowslip, and emerald with grass. Bene lie- ' tion upon governments till they beeoaie *5 more just and humane. Benediction upm nations till they kneel in prayer. Bene tic- " tion upon the whole earth until evi*r>* mount- sf aiu is an Olive of consecration, and every 0 lake a Galilee on whose mosaic of crystal, and opal, aud sapphire divine splendors shall walk. c< Ob, take the benediction of His pardon, sin- o ners young aud sinners old, sinners moderate and sinners abandoned. Take the benediction of His comfort, all ye broken hearted under bereavement and privation and inyria 1 woes. n Take His beuediction, all ye sick beds, whether under acute spasm3 of D&in or is I ong protracted invalidism. For orphanage, ,nd childlessness, and widowhood a benedicion. For cradles and trundle beds and rockrig chairs of octogenarians, a benediction, i'or life and for death, for time and for eterlity, for earth and for heaven, a beaedioion. Sublimest gesture ever made, the last ;estureof our ascending Lord. "And H? ifted up His hands and blessed them." Is our attitude the same? Is it the clenched 1st or the open palm? Is it wrath or is it indness? Is it diabolism or Christism? God ;ive us the grace of the op3n palm, open upward to get the benediction, open downward o pronounce a benediction. A lady was pa?sug alon<* a streat and suddenly ran against , ragged boy, and she said; "I beg your parIon, my boy, I did not mean to run against rou; I am very sorry." And the bov took off he piece of a cap he had upon his nead and aid: "You have my parding, ladv, and you oay run agin me and knock me clear down; won't care." And turning to a comrade he aid: "That nearly took ma off my feet. No>ody ever asked myparding before." Kindiess! Kindness! Fill the warld with it. ?here has always been too much of disregard >f others. Illustrated in 1639, in England, rhen 95,000 acres of marshes were drained or health and for crop raising, and the portsmen destroyed the drainage works ber use they wanted to keep the marshes for tunting ground, where they could shot* vild ducks. The same selfishness in all ages. Oh, for rindness that would make our life a sym)hony suggestive of one of the ancient banluets where everything was set to music; he plats3 brought in and removed to the ound of music, the motions of the carvers ceeping time with the music, the conversation ifting and propping with th9 rising and alHnop ftf fha mnai^ insfaa -1 rtf t.ha Qiisicf of an earthly orchestra, it would >e the music of a heavenly charm, our words he music of kind thoughts, our steps tha nusic of helpful deals, our smile the music if encouraging looks, our youth and old aga ihe first and last bars of music conducts! by he pierced hand that was opened in love and pread downward in bamdictioa on Olivatic wights on Ascension Day. By a new way none ever trod ... Const mounted to the throng of God. CURIOUS FACTS. The potato-bug has twenty-five paraites. The gem. symbolic of the month of Jay is the emerald. The earth, according to geologists, is 00,000,000 years eld. A lady in Clarke County, Ga., has levef tasted water in her life. The area of London is 120 square ailcs. It has about 7500 miles of streets. There is no Company J in the Army, iecause the written J is too much like I. Asparagus was originally a wild seaoast plant, and is a native of Great Britain. The postage on a single rate letter to he Cape of Good Hope, South Africa, is ifteen cents. A cubic foot of fresh water weighs 4.0 pounus; a cuoic iuut ui sea wuicx 4.25 pounds. The English battleship Benbow and he Italiau warship Italia are the largest i'ar vessels afloat. Presidio del Norte, a Mexican town of ome 7000 inhabitants, is said to be withut anjr resident physician. Small diamonds fixed in the front and ack sights of rifles are said to enable the larksman to take good aim even in a bad ight. The loftiest inhabited spot on the lobe is the Porthouse of Ancomara on lie Andes in Peru, 1G, 000 feet above the ca level. Jerome "Wood, of Long Lake, N. Y., ound the name of Annie Hodgson, of heffield, England, in an umbrella, wrote 3 her and later married her. A blanket fish is one of the Florida uriosities seen in the gulf between Key Vest aud Tampa. It looks like an uninned cowhide floating in the water. "Greaser'-' in the United States is a ame applied,in contempt to natives of panish America, especially to natives of Iexico, from their greasy appearance. Ten years ago the plains near Deming, Lrizona, were feeding antelope. One reek recently 6000 head of cattle were hipped from Doming to eastern cities by ail. A Mayor's Singular Election. It so happened once upon a time that , dispute arose among the burghers of .limerick, Ireland, as to who should be layor, writes Mary Banim in the Provdeuce Journal. One party urged the 1'iima nf thnii- fnvnritp- nfchers fought ? 1 O lard for their own selection; feuds ran ligh and neither side was inclined to ;ive in; there was no Mayor, no appar:ut possibility of cither side being content vith whoever should be chosen from mong the burghers. There seemed no chance of any elecion being made, until at last it was pro>osed that some one indifferently alike o all parties should be chosen. The itizens determined to elect by chance, nd agreed that upon the following day he principal members of the corporation hould assemble at the foot of Thomond 5ridge and take as their Mayor the rst man who should cross into the town rom Clare. It was market morning when the burners look their stand on the bridge and hey were not many minutes there before poor peasant from Cratloe Hill came rudging along with a bundle of heather rooms 011 his back?an old trade iu Ireind is that of cutting heather of broom n the mountains and moors, making it ato brooms, the stems bound into banles, the soft tufts of purple blossom and ark green foliage bunching out into a rush or ;'broom." The old broom maker of Cratloe was nown at "Shaun-na-Scoobe," or John f the Brooms. Brooms and all, he was nrried oil by the Aldermen to the City fall, dressed in robes of office and in? \r..^nr r\( r imnrirk. jSto chrou UU 1LU, UO illdj Vi v* - - - :1c has been kept as to how he bote imsclf iu olliec, but niauy a time, long go, has a Mimstcr nurse told me the :orv of how,Shaun-na-Scoobe not return1 g with the price of the brooms, his ii'c set out to look for her old man and mud him at last in the City Hull, rcsscd in a scarlet robe, all trimmed itli fur, a gold collar around his neck iul the wand of olliee in his hand. "Shaun, do you know the woman bejrc you?" she asked in Irish. "Xo, woman, I do not know you," ho nswcrcd; "how could I kuow you when do not kuow myself?" And the Vanitee (wife or woman of ie house) went home, ami at the end of 10 year, it being market day again, haun shouldered his bundle of brooms, awked them around until they were all >ld, then carried home the money to his Id wife on C'ratloe hillside, and his year f office as Mayor of Limerick town ,was junted by the honest couple as only one f the strange dreams of their life. A single factory in Durham, N. C., lanufacturcd 832,000,000 cigarettes last ear. RELIGIOUSJEADINa Be not anxious for the morrow! fl lie who portions joy anil sorrow Knoweth what for thee Is best; And whate'er its skies may bring Thee of joy or sorrowing, Comes at his behest. Anxious thought can never yield thee Grace to bear nor faith to shield thee; Should the morrow trials bring; But, if thou in patience wait, He will help thee in thy strait, Give thee song to sing. Flia is love that lasts foreve-, Faithfulness that faileth never! From thy mind forebodings cast; And. to know what he will be, * Should a morrow rise on thee, Bead it from the past. When at last thy home thou nearest, And the gloom of death thou fearest; May be then tomorrow's light, Given thee for faithful tiust, Shall upon thy memory burst, Pluming thee for flight. When hath ceased nil sin and sorrow, "Where thy life hath no tomorrow, Sun, nor threatening cloud nor moon; To the love thy past that planned, Mid the harps of heaven's band, Thine .shall find a tune. EVERY CHRISTIAN'S DUTY. * . It is the office of every disciple to be a witness for Christ, calling the world around Jou wherever you touch it to come and see '* im as illustrated in yourself?in your fidei.... i ?. 1_ ny to every iruaij in \uur pancucc uuuci ?uj b ignominy and insult, in your sweet serenity g of spirit in the midst of all anxiety and fear, I in your very face which shines as with the I morning star, shedding its lustre on it be cause you look for the realms that art above. You are to show forth Christ for thchumble and the poor, for the needy and the suffer in", for the sinful whom you will call back I to liim, for the beloved disciples with whom :/m you enter into sweet fellowship because of B common affiliation with him. Von are to I be living epistles, known and read of men, and written on every page of your life in the living letters of light from on high, as lefc* ters from Christ. That Is the duty, that is the responsibility, that is the glorious office of every man or 9 woman and every youth who confesses him self or herselt a disciple of the Master. What I words have we which he said to his disciples, "As the Father hath sent me into the world, so send I you. Ah, my dear friends it is not / the minister alone, it is not the officer of the I church alone, it is every individual disciple embraced withiu the church who is thus to I set forth Christ and call the world to see him, . I and who needs for the accomplishment of that august and lovely office the indwelling g .power of the Holy lihost.--[ur. n.o. dsoitb. STRAIGHT PATHS. I The best railroads are made at great expense for right of way, tunneling, grading and cutting, and the best material is used for cross-ties, trestles, etc., and laid with heavy steel rails. "When completed, large engines pull heavily loaded trains over them al great speed with safety. Cheap roads are built with poor material, and go curving around hills and other obstacles, up bill ana down over shaky. bridges and dangerous -i trestle work, and when it is done it is quite dangerous to run trains at all fast, and good engines can't go up the steep grades with what ought to be an ordinary load. So it is in religion. There is a cheap, twisty kind that doesn't cut down the mountain of unbelief, but curves around every disagreeable duty, and is destined not only to be a failure hire, but to wreck those .who have it for ali eternity. It curves around the hill of repentance, runs over the valley of humiliation on a trestle work, scarcely comes in sight of restitution; the ties arc worldly interests, the rails selfrighteousness; "the engine a phantom ot Christ, run by good resolutions and selfrighteousness. It stops at all the towns of worldly pleasure, and never has time for works of charity, except to be seen of men, and has Its head-,v quarters in worldly conformity and sensual pleasure. It is a cheap route, and popular with poor deceived souls, some of whjo[ think they arc serving God, and will re4v~ the kingdom by and by. CAJCJ.V FAKltAR ON* FOHKIGX MISSION'S. H Canon Farrar has been delivering a course of missionarv lectures 011 Saturday after* noons. In the one delivered January 17, in Westminister Abbey ho said: At the be ginning of this century a certain notaoiuiy of Massachusetts made the remark that "thi religion of Christ is such that the more you send it abroad the more vou have it at home." There were those who repeated the old stale objection that we weie preaching to Esquimaux when there were idolators in England. Were we to do nothing for Europe until all was perfect in England, nothing in England unt'l all was perlect in Westminster, liotiiing for Westminster until all was perfect in our own homes, nothing in our own homes until nil was perfect in our own hearts? In tlie wake of American missions abroad c;:.me American ^mancipation of the slaves at home. Who turned tne ice which had formed over the hearts of Churchmen in the hist century into a flame? Why, John Wesley and George Whitlicld. Both were fervent in the cause of foreign missions, and both went out as missionaries. Did that spirit spring from a fantastic enthusiasm for the heathen abroad, and siily indifference to the beathen at home? The call to go to the heatheu was greater. The heath?n had not heard, as men at home had heard, if they would, of the Gospel of Christ. lie concluded by saying, with one of those old Celtic missionaries, St. Asaph, I iu.i v? I Kinder fhp nrotrress of LIJOL UL- nuw un*v?wa t 0 God's Word envied the happlnes of man- H kind. 9 JOUnXKY OF LIFE. fl No one, remarks the Independent, passes through the journey of this life, though lfc be but of modentu length, without losing Kindred and friends by death, whom he ten- H derly loved when living, and contiuues to love long after they are gone. If one H to an advanced age, he usually has a^^^H greater number of such friends in the ne^^lB world than he bus in this. Death swee^H^H them away, aud -ometimes he is left almoenl^| alone iu respect to the cherished companion-' H ships of his earthly life. To these loved ones M deail lie can render no service, and, so far as Bfl we know, from lin-in receive none. He may think of tlictn, bill he can do nothing for them. Tliey arc entirely beyond the reach H| of his action. He ran speak no kind word to them, aud give them no good advice. He HQ can make no sacrifices to promote t heir joys. The lesson to l?e learned from this fact is Hj that we should act toward* our kindred and H| friends while they are living, as we, if sur- IB fill tc/l h-wl U'llAn I VHIg IIU'III, ?III K nil 1. v. 4t..v? ...... .. MV? tliey are sleeping in Die grave. I.et the busband ami the wi.*'e so treat cadi other, while thev iioM this rolalion, that the death of EH neither will give the other any occasion for |H regret on account of misconduct. Let par cuts and children, brothers and sisters, friends intimately associated, and, indceed, HB all men. observe the same rule, and this certainly would be a much happier world.' The [J rule would lessen the number of family BM juarivl>, and make life more serene and IB more like heaven. Fewer hard speeches would pass between men. (ientleness and kindness would be the law H m human ae ion. We once heard a man who had just lo<t a nm?t excellent wife, say, '*1 |H aru now >inierely sorrv for every unkind wi rd I ever spoke to that woman. I wish I Hfl could tell her >o, and in -ome way receive from her the expression of her forgive" '?? i u-onld L'ive twentv thousand dollars H it' I ''otilil thereby Mot out :<11 swh words." Wo have no doubt tliat just tltis sort of fee 1in has |itfni*lr:iti'il many a bosom. The way AH to i voiil it is t'? .??> net towards others that iIkti-w il! bi* no oroasioii for it when tlicy Hfl an1 ih:i'l am! iroM'. Thf. irony of fate is seen iu tlio sad fate of Captain Couch. the Oklahoma boomer. After devoting liis time and energies for several years to organizing ^Bj raids into that forbidden region, and thus doing much to force its opening'A^B settlement, he was so beaten in tbl^^B race for land -when the day of jubilee came that he was compelled t? jump jH another man's claim, and was shot in ttre leg and died a few day* afUrward. VB A woman's strange gait may not afc,^h ways be caused by her gaiter.