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where shk comes, inch heavy elders overhung, j|Half hid in clover masses, An old fence rambles on, among S\he tangled meadow-grasses, [fcmaJkes a shade (or lady-fern RWhich nestles close beside it; While clematis, at every turn, ? And roses almost hide it. i En shade of ova-hanging sprays * And down a sunny hollow, By hazel-copse, and woodland ways, !' The winding fence I follow; By rose, and thorn, and fragrant dew, In search of something sweeter? Che orchard-gap, where she comes through, j And I go down to meet her! fhe sunlight slants across the fences f > "Where lichens gray it over, And stirs a hundred dreamy scenta E? From fern, and mint, and clover^ But though the air is sweet to-day, ^ I know of something sweeter: That she can only come this way, f And I am sure to meet her! And so, while chipmunks run a match 1 To tell the wrens who's coming, And all across the brier patch There sounds a drowsy humming? The hum of honey-seeking bo23? I seek for something sweeter: A gap, amongst the apple-trees, Where I am going to meet her! ?Charles B. Going, in Scribncr. A NATURAL TRAP. BY FRAXK GILLETTE. , I had been riding several hours through the hot dust of a Southern Arizona plain on the trip from Antelope to the home ranch. I had not seen a living thing except the scurrying lizards, when I noticed ahead a man on horse Daci:, riamg rapicuy towara me. At that point the trail led across a great cactus plain known as Lonesome Valley. It was not a valley at all in the . ? usual sense of the word, but a broad, level sweep of &andy desert stretching between two abrupt raDges of mountains. There was not a tree on it more than ten feet high, but I will venture to say that there were more varieties of cactus, and more of those villainous plants to the square yard, than could be found in any other spot on the globe. Southern Arizona is the garden of the cactus, aud this desert must hare been its own particular hot-bed. I had been in the country scarcely sis months, but I had already acquired a horror of cactus thorns, and guided my horse along the trail with a care which did not admit of great speed. The rider whom I saw approaching me in Lonesome Valley evidently had no I such fear. Ilis animal, which he was j Qrging forward at a rapid lope, swerved ; easily to the right and left,threading the i mazes of the cactus growth with the trained sense of a Mexican pony. As they approached I made out that the rider was a Mexican. At a still closer ! view I saw that he was a rather good v,.,* I lUUiWJU^ JlL'AlLaU, UUb J/VVHJ and that evidently he was on a journey, i He bad with him a canteen, a pair of i worn, grer.sy blankets, and a lightly j packed gunny sack. His horse was a 1 homely, sharp boned animal, built for j speed and endurance, forced marches, | and long stages without water; but at present he was certainly tired. I will Hot say "tired out," for these ponic3 are : never tired out until they are dead. ' . The man checked his rapid pace as we ' nearcd each other, aud I thonght, was i about to pass with the customary buenos ! dias, when he cast a quick glanoc at my horse, and reined in his own. I halted also. "You haf verra fine hoss there, senor," he said, in a tone of the utmost politeness. My horse, which I called Montezuma, was, in fact, a larger and better shaped j animal than is often seen in that coun- \ try. I had picked him out for that reason i on my first visit to Antelope, and at the j time prided myself not a little on my I choice. He was, indeed, a horse of ex-! cellent appearance and action, but he j bad some defects. His very build showed : that he was a Northern or an Eastern j horse, and not native born, and I found that he was by no means equal to the na- \ tive breed in endurance or wiry strength, j He could not travel as far nor go so long i without water, nor was he as sure footed. ^ However, he made an imposing ap- ! pearance, tyid served me very well in my rides, which were chiefly for pleasure. He pricked up his ears, and the polite Mexican said again, "You haf verra fine hoss, senor." "jes, he's a very good hcrse," I replied, not very cordially, but still with courtesy, for it seemed to me polite to be ! courteous to a man wLo was probably the ! only human being within ten miles, i* "He no born in thees countree? I see j tin fcnss iikd Iiecm in Arizona, nevare. But, senor," with a glance at his own I Bhaip-boned, panting beast, "there is one verra eggscellanta Mexican* boss. I ricla hcem now one, two, three day. I rida heem verra bard, and ?eel" e. He touched the animal lightly with i his spurs, lifted the hand with which he | held the reins, and leaned forward. The horse sprang instantly into a furious lope, I as if he had but just been saddled for the ! first time. The Mexican wheeled him j gracefully in a long circlc through the j cactus plants, and drew him in again on j his haunches by my side. u "Ah, senor, he is the one hoss of one ! meellion! He go and go and go, and j nevare stop. He drink only the one time a day, and he eat, ah, so leet'.c! In one 1 year he no eat so mucha as a burro. But j perhaps the senor," and here his face ' wore a most persuasive smile, "will lika I to cggschange? The senor will gif to | to me hees hoss, and I will gif to heem ' my magnilico Chihuahua." . "No; I do not wish to trade horses at! ail, i auu, WJIU 1V.-53 I'Uluiiwikj cuau uv;fore. as I began to feel decidedly uneasy | in the presence of this smiling for- ' eigner. ".No?" he said, in a tone of regret. Then, after a moment, his face lighting : up, he added: "Ah, but the scnor has I nevare tried heem! He does not know Chihuahua. If he try heem only the : once, he see that I tellu heem the truib." He threw himself to the ground and came toward me, smiling. I now saw his plan. He was a desperate man, probably flying to Mexico to cic.ipe the consequences of some crime. My horse had attracted him at first sight. Either he needed it to help him on his jour::ey, cr thongh1. he might sell it for a good Bum across the border. It seemed to me an excellent plan to go at once without losing any more time in useless conversation. I turned quickly in the saddle, murmured a somei what unnecessary ' Good-by," and spurred Montezuma toward home. The horse was fresh, and started away iq good shape; but in an instant the Mexican had sprung into his saddle, and was after me. There was now no doubt as to his intentions. As I looked back I saw that his face had lost its smile, and taken on a cruel, sullen look. Ho dug his spurs into his horse, and the , animal sprang into the same furious gallop that I had seen before. My heart sank as I realized that it was perhaps a race of life and death. The defects of my horse came to my mind with startling distinctness. How gladly would'I have exchanged him for the boniest cow pony in the country! The Mexican's horse was not gaining on us now, for Montezuma was fresh; but could he outruL f-hat relentless pursuer on a five mile stretch? Then what if Montezuma should stumble and throw me to the ground bead foremost? At the thought of this I turned again to the front. I could not afford to watch my pursuer. I must keep a clear lookout ahead. If I could only guide my horse safely around every hole and stone and across every wash, perhaps we could yet pull away from the scoundrel behind me. At this moment something struck me a terrific blow in the back of the head. I thought I had been shot, and turned slowly to look at my mnrderer. The end of a heavy, worn lasso was just slipping off the saddle behind me, and the Mexican, with an exclamation, was reeling it in, evidently making ready to throw again. He had seen that my horse was gaining, and accordingly had recourse to that most effective long-range weapon, the lariat. His first throw had missed me by an inch, and he was cursing himself for his clumsiness. I was not a thrower of the "lass," my self, but I was familiar with its powers. One of the rough sports of cowboys,after work, is to 1 'rope" one another. In a wild race in and out of the corral one of Ihem tries to throw his rope so as to ensircle the man ahead without catching the horse at the same time. If successful he drags him to the ground, more or less roughly. But is only play, rough as it is. It would bo no play to be caught by the crucl rope which the wretch was coiling on his left arm. I watched him as if fascinated. He reached for the loop, opened it wide, turned sidewise iu the saddle and swung it round his head. If it caught me I should be dragged headlong to the ground. If I leaued close to the horse 1- -.4.1- ,1 it would Close over us uuiu, uuu would go down together. Ia cither case certaia injury or death threatened me. In utter despair I pulled up my horse and stopped. The Mexican rode swiftly up, coiling his lasso as he came. The hard look gave way to the same smile that he had worn before, but I thought I detected something grim iu it at this time. Again, with that horrible politeness, he said: "Ah, the scnor is too queek?he no wait to say adios I But tho hoss, he is as I say, he is verra fast. "Will the senor no try my hoss now? Si, si, I think he will hka try Chihuahua now. He's hoss is mucha tired, he lika little rest!" In the same graceful way as before he threw himself to the ground, and instantly caught Montezuma by the bridle. I was entirely unarmed. I had no doubt , that the Mexican was well armed and ; quite ready to kill me if I attacked him. I dismounted slowly, with bad grace. , To ray surprise, the Mexican handed me the bridle of his horse with a bow. "Now, you shall try my Chihuahua! There is no more bettire in thees coun- i tree. Tou will so say, cef you will try , heem only." But I had no heart to mount. I had little doubt that the beast which was now leering at me with a vicious eye would back me off at the first jump. The Mexican waited a moment out of sheer courtesy, then mounted Montezuma and started gracefully off. He did not push him to his utmost at first, but went down the road carefully, as if trying him. Then he turned and came back at a somewhat better pace. I stood like a dummy, holding the bridle of his horse, and watching him. His riding was a magnificent exhibition, but I was not in a condition to admire it. As if satisfied with the powers of Montezuma, he turned again and came down past me at full speed. As he pissed, he shouted a few words in Spanish to his horse. The beast jerked back from me, struck at me with his forefeet, and was after his master in an instant. The Mexican had turned in the saddle j UUU Wiid ?aiLU!Li^ U3 ntbu luiLiujtt am his horse broke away from me, a smile spread over the man's face which was more than a smile of politeness, and . he raised his hat in a sweeping bow of . derision. I stood there as if paralyzed, on Lone- ' some Valley Desert, fifteen miles from 1 home, and watched the villain ride my I horse toward Mexico. But the Mexican cared too much for 1 Aeatrical display. His people are tho most perfect riders in the world, and my , enemy was no exception to the rule. But he made a mistake in assuming that all ' horses are as sure-footed as he was secure : in his seat. This is true of Mexican ponies, the only ones he had ever ridden, but it was not true of Montezuma. As the Mexican spurred him deep, still looking back over his shoulder at me, Montezuma came to a gully or wash. There are thousands of them across every road aud trail in tho Southwest. This one was not more than three feet deep and five feet across. A native horse would have jumped it or leaped into it safely, evc:i it it were six tect deep. Byf. Montezuma, as he came to the wash, made no effort to jump over, but plunged iu with his forefeet set together. As he struck the bottom, which was of j rock loosely covered with sand, his knees doubled under him like straws. The best j rider iu th.- world would not have kept j his seat. The Mcxicau, still glancing j buck at Lis own horse, went off as if hurled from a catapult. Montezuma jumped up, shook himself j aud limped slowly away. I involuntarily rail forward. The Mexican did not rise, and I guess he was dead or stunned. As I drew nearer, however, I could see that he was not dead, but very much alive, lie lay on his back with his right arm stretched out over his head, aud was writhing to and fro, as if in great pain. The man certainly wasiu a seriou9 pre, dicament. When Montezuma stumbled, 1 he had been thrown straight upon a large lish-hook cactus?a low cylindrical variety, completely covered with long rei curriug cverlappiug horny spines, of I needle sharpness and most tenacious j P itrength. They resemble enormous bone ! fish-hooks in everything but the barb. If the Mexican had struck this cactm head foremost, he would have been killed outright. As it was, his right arm had been thrust deep into tho long curving thorns, and they had closed into his arm and hand, holding them in a grip of steel. As he lay there writhing on tho ground, his arm transfixed in a dozen places with these inflexible hooks, I saw my enemy delivered into my power. It only remained to take advantage of the fortunate accident which bad humbled him. I first searched him and took possession of his knife and revolver. Then, very slowly, I freed his arm, cutting away the softer parts of the plant rather than trying the almost impossible task of cutting through the thorns. As the Mexican rose, I retreated to Montezuma's back, and covered the man with the revolver. My precautions were useless. His arm was sprained as well a3 gashed in a dozen places by the cruel hooks. He painfully removed these, and bound his arm in a bandana that he took from his pocket I motioned to him to walk ahead of me, toward the ranch. "We made a slow and sorry procession; the furious Mexican in front, Montezuma limninfr Dainfullv. and myself behind, CJ 4 ? ' the other horse following at some distance. But a sense of triumph sustained me through the long journey. At the ranch we dressed the villain's arm, set a guard over him and sent for the Sheriff. He came, identified him as a daring horse-thief, wanted for several offences in the northern part of the territory, and relieved us of his company. ?Youth's Companion. The Heights of Waves. All 6orts of nonsense has been written about waves "mountains high." The truth is that when a ship is plunging down the back of one wave and is at the same time heeled over till her rail is close to the water, the nest wave looks as if it would sweep completely over the vessel and therefore appears as big as a mountain. Lieutenant Qualtrough says: "We find reports of heights of 100 teet from hollow to crest, but no verified measurement exists of a hei<rht half as preat as this. The highest reliable measurements are from forty-four to forty-eight feet? in itself a very remarkable height. Waves having a greater height thfn thirty feet are not often encountered." The height of wind waves is governed by what is called the "fetch." That means their distance from the place where their formation begins. Thomas Stevenson, author of "Lighthouse Illumination," and father of the well-Icnown writer of our day, Robert Louis Stevenson, gives the following formula as applicable when the fetch is not less than sis sea miles: "The height of the wave in feet is equal to 1.5 multiplied by the square root of the fetch in nautical miles." Let us suppose that in a gale of wind the waves began to form 400 miles from the ship you aro nn Thfi smifire root of 400 is twentv. which multiplied by 1.5 gives thirty feet as the height of the waves around the ship. Now, it is well knowu that in every storm there are occasionally groups of three or four waves considerably larger than the others. Captain Lecky is of tho opinion that these are caused by the increased force of the wind in squalls which are a featuite of every big blow. Now, waves travel at a rate which is the result of their eize. Waves 200 feet long from hollow to hollow travel about nineteen knots per hour; those of 400 feet in length make twenty-seven knots; and those of 1 COO feet rush forward irresistibly at thirty- , two knots. Let us suppose, now, a wave i 400 feet in length and thirty-eight or j forty feet high rushing along at twenty- j seven knots. It overtakes a slower wave making about twenty knots, with a ' height of twenty-five feet and a length of 200. The two seas become one, forming at the moment of their union an enormous wave. Just at that moment they meet one of those steamers called "ocean greyhounds," which, as every one knows, never slacken speed unless it is absolutely necessary for safety. She is butting into the storm at the rate of say eight knots e in hour. She runs plump against a great j ivall of water which seems to rise sud- ( ienly out of the general tumult, rushing \ at her with a height of forty-five feet or more and a speed of over thirty miles per ? hour. There Is a fearful crash forward, ( iccompanied by a deluge, and as the tons ] Df water roll off the forecastle deck, it is < found that damage has been done, and the officers on watch enter in the log the , interesting fact that the steamer has been i struck by a t4tldal wave."?St. Nicholix^. 1 A Gentleman Tells a Fish Story. Perhaps there was some sense in what he was saying. In fact, there must have been,because everybody in the car leaned forward listening. It could easily be seen that the gentleman was an ardent admirer of all athletic sports. He had a biceps that would do honor to a slugger and it would have taken a pretty heavy bamraer to crush his little finger. "Yes," he concluded, "and when 1 hauled up that line, though I had felt six distinct bites, there was but one fish on it, and he had swallowed all six of the hooka. The hooks were valuable and sc my boy cut the fish open to get them. Inside the huge fish I found three other but smaller fishes, each with two hooks in his mouth, and insido cach one ol those three smaller fishes we found a still smaller fish, each one with a hook in hb stomach. I had used worms for bait anc while one of the worms was in the fish it i - --1 ?? ? tt-oq nnnncrV ! UUU J UUUS^ UU?j auu im iv 0-. bait to lust us all the rest of that day."? ; New Yuri: Sun. ^gsp* Speed of Swallows. Swallows were long supposed to be tht fastest birds that fly; but this is by nc means the case. They attain to an im- j mense speed in their rushes, but ari among the most easily fatigued of birds Tla-re is a well-authenticated instance ol a swallow having flown twenty ini!es in thirteen minutes. The spec 1 of a swal low flying straight and swift is aboui ninety-two miles an hour; its ordinary , course is sixty miles. The swift easily at i tains to 200 miles, aud seems quite tire- < less on the "wing.?Oncc-d'Week. Rough on Cholera Morbus. Cholera morbus can bo easily chocked j in nine cases out of ten by the use of th< t following, which any druggist can fill i Tincture capsicum, laudanum, tincture ol j rhubarb, spirits of camphor and essence of peppermint, of each two drams; mix, and take from fifteen to twenty drops every half hour until relieved. This hai been known to euro some of the worsi | cases in a short time. ? Chicago Esrali A - j'%"- v r<c'V '-T ' " "> :: ~ i.-" <' v - V' ^ # REV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S ^FN DAY SERMON. "Tbe New Song of Heaven." Text: ,lAnd they san^a new Bong." Rev. 9. Nearly all the cities of Europe and America have conservatories of music and associations whose object it is by voice and instrument to advance the art or sweet sounds. On Thursday night Exeter Hall, of London,used to resound with the music of first-class performers, who gave their services gratuitously to the masses, who came in with free tickets and huzzaed at the entertainment. At Berlin at 11 o'clock daily themilitary band,with sixty or a hundred instruments, discourses at the Royal Opera House for the people. On Easter Sunday in Dresden the boom ot cannon and the ringing of bells bring multitudes to the churches to listen to the organ peals and the exciting sounds of trumpet and drum. When the great fair day of Ldpsic comes the band3 of music from far and near gather in the street and bewilder the ear with incessant playing of flute and horn, violin and bassoon. At Dusseldorf once a year the lovers of music as sera Die, ana ior caroe or roar aaya wait upuu the great singing festivals, and shout at tho close of the choruses, and greet the successful competitors as the prizes are distributed ?cups and vases of silver and gold. All our American cities at times resound with orchestra and oratorio. Those who can sing well or play skillfully upon instruments are greeted with vociferation and garlanded by excited admirers. There are many whoso most ecstatic do light i3 tc be found in melodies, and all the splendor of celestial gates, and all tho lusclousness of twelve manner of fruits, and all the rush of floods from under the throne of God would not make a heaven for them if there were no great and transporting harmonies. Passing along our streets in the hour of worship you hear the voice of sacred melody, although you do not enter the building. And passing along the street of heaven we hear, from the temple of God and the Lamb, the breaking forth of magnificent jubilate. We may not yet enter in among the favored throng, but God will not deny us the pleasure of standing a while on the outside to hear. John listened to it a great while ago, and "they sang a new song." Let none aspire to that blessed place who have no love for this exercise, for although it is many ages since the thrones were set, and the harps were strung, there has been no cessation in the song, excepting onco for about thirty minutes; and, judging from the glorious things now transpiring in God's world, oud the ever accumulating triumphs of tho Messiah, that was the last half hour | that heaven will ever bo silent Mark the fact that this was anew song. sometimes i nave 112 cnurcn oeen noaiea away upon some great choral, in which all our people seemed to mingle their voices, and I have, in the glow of my emotions, said: "Surely this is music good enough for heaven." Indeed, I do not believe that "Luther's Hymn," "Coronation," or "Old Hundred," or "Mount Pisgah" would sound ill if spoken by sainted lips or thrummed from seraphic harps. There are many of our fathers and mothers in glory who would bo slow to shut heaven's gate against t&ese old time harmonies. But this we are told is a new song. Some of our greatest anthems and chorals aro compositions from other tunea?the sweetest parts of them gathered up into the harmony; and I have sometimes thought that this "new song" may bo partly made up of sweet strains of earthly music mingled in eternal choral. But it will, after all, be a new song. This I do know, that in sweetnes and power it will bo something that tho ear never heard. All tho skill of the oldest harpers of heaven will be flung into it. All the love of God's heart will ring from it. In its cadences the floods will clap their hands, and it will drop with the sunlight of everlasting day and breathe with odors from the blossoms of the tree of life. "A new song"?just made for heaven. AfftntT Itt Qrmcrc oro tvriffpti Htr rwrrt posers just for the purpose of making a tune, and the land is flooded with note books in which really valuable tunes are the exception. But once in a while a man is wrought up by some great spectacle, or moved by some terrible agony, or transported by some exquisite gladness, and he sits down to write a tune or a hymn in which every note or every word is a spark dropped from tho forgo of his own burning emotions. So Mendelssohn wrote,and so Beethoven,and so Charles Wesley. Cowper, depressed with misfortunes until almost insana,resolved on 6uicide, and asked the cab driver to take him to a certain place where he expected to destroy his own life. The cab driver lost his way, and Cowper be^an to think of h's sin, and went bach to his home, and sat down and wrote: Gol rnoTea In a mysteriona way His wonders to perioral; Ee plants Ills footsteps in the set And rides upon the storm. Ye fearful saints, fresh courigc take; The clouds yoa so mach dread Are biz with mercy and shall break In bfesalrgs on your head. Mozart composed his own requiem and laid to his daughter Emily, "Play that." ind while Emily was playing tho requiem Mozart's soul went up on tho wave of his iwn music into glory. Emily looked around md her father was dead. This new song of heaven was not comxwed, because heaven had nothing else to la but Christ, in memory of cross and :rown, of manger and throne, of earth and heaven, and wrought upon by the raptures the great eternity, poured this from His heart, made it for tho armies of heaven to 3hout in celebration of victory, for worshipers to chant in their temple services, for the innumerable home circles or heaven to I sing in the house of many mansions. If a new tune be started la church there is only here and there a person who can sing it It is some time before the congregation earns a new tune. But not so with the new song of heaven. The children who tvent up today from the waters of the J Ganges are now singing it. That Christian nan or woman who a few minutes aj;o | leparted from this very street has joineJ it. All know it?those by tho gates, those >n the river bank, those in the temple. Not 'oeling their way through it, or baiting or ?oingback, as if they never before had sung it, but with a full, round voice they throw their soul into this new song. If some Sab , bath day a few notes of that anthem should travel down the air we could not sing it. No | 3rgan could roll its thunder. No harp coultl :atch it trill. No lip could announce j its sweetness. Transfixed, lost, enchanted, | dumb, we could not hear it?the faintest note . 3f the new song. Yet while I speak heaven's j cathedral quakes under it, and seas of glory bear it from beach to beach, and ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands sing it?"the new song." _ j Further, it is a commemorative son^. We ire distinctly told that it makes a reference j to past deliverances. Oh, how much have they to sing about They sing o? the- darkless through which on earth they passed, mcl It is a night song. That one wa&ildlled it Yorktown, and with him it is a battle song. That ono was imprisone 1 for Christ's " Vii'm if- Jo rt TM?'i AM ffArt/* Thnf. autw, UUU n ibll una IV 10 a p 4 uu ^vu6, . was a Christian sailor boy that bad his back broken on tho ship's halyards, and with him ! it is a sailor's song. That one burned at j 3mitbfk>Id, and with him it is a fire son: Ob! how thoy will sing of floods waded, of I 3res endured, of persecutions suffered, of j i^racc extended! Song of haii.?Song of sword! j Bong of hot lead I Song of axot As when , the organ pipss peal out some great har- ! raony, there comes occasionally the sound of i tho tromulants, weeping through tho cadences, adding exquisiteness to the performances so amid tho stupendous acclaim of the heavenly worshipers shall come tremu* j Ions remembrances of past endurance, add- j ing a sweetness and glory to tho triuinuhal ;iram. ao tno giormed mother will sing ot che cradle that death robbed, and tho en;hroned spirit from tho almhouso will sing )f a lifetime of want. God may wipo away ill the tears, but not tho memory of tho jrief that started thom! Further, it will bo an accompanied song. Some hav^ a great prejudice against musical instruments; and even among those wholiko them there is an idea that they are unauthorized. I lovo tho cymbals, for Israel clapped :hem in triumph at the Red Sea. I lovo tho aarp, for David struck it in praising the Liord. I love tho trumpot, for we are told that it shall awake the dead. I love all stringed instruments and organs, for God demands that weshaUpraise Him on string^ Instruments and organs. There la in gnvch musio much to suggest tho higher vj^ip, tor I read that \vteu Ho ha4 tyo book the four-and-twenty elders fell down before the Lamb,having every one of them "harps,* and "I heard the voice of the harpers harping with their harps," and "I saw them thai had gotten the victory from the beast standing on the sea of glass, having the harps o 1 God." Yes, the song is to be accompanied. You say that all thu is figurative. Then I say prove it. I do not know how much of it is literal and how much of it is figurative. Who can say but that from some of the precious woods of earth and heaven there may not be made instruments of celestial accord? In that worship David may take the harp, and Habakkuk the shigionoth; and when the great multitudes shail, following their own inclinations, take up instruments sweeter than Mozart ever fingered, or Schumann ever dreamed of, or Beethoven ever wrote for, let all heaven make ready for the burst of stupendous minstrelsy and the roll of the eternal orchestral Further, it will bo an anticipative song. Why, my friends, heaven has hardly begun ye* If you had taken the opening piece of music to-day for tbo whole service you would not have made so great a mistake 08 to suppose that heaven is fully inaugurated. Festal choruses on earth laet only a short nrViilA Thrt fnmnm mnoiVnl oonvrv?ftt:irtn flfc Dusseldorf ended with the forth day. Our holidays last only eight or ten days; bat heaven, although singing for so many years, has only just begun "the new song." If tho glorified inhabitants recount past deliverances they will also enkindle at glories to somo. If at 9 o'clock, when the church opened, you bad taken the few peoplo who were scattered through it as the main audience, you would not have made so great a mistake as if you supposed that the present population of heaven are to be its chief citizenship. Although millions are already there, the inhabitants are only a handful compared with tho future populations. All China is yet to be saved. All India is yet to be saved. All Borneo is yet to be saved. All Switzerland is yet to be saved. All Italy is yet to be saved. All Spain is vet to be saved. All Russia is yet to be saved. All Prance is yet to be saved. All England is yet to be saved. All America is yet to bo saved. All the world is yet to be saved. After that there may be other worlds to conquer. I do not know but that every star that glitters in our nights is an inhabited world, and that from all those spheres a mighty host are to march into our heaven. There will be no gate to keep them out. TTe do not want to keep them out We wiil not want to keep them out. God will not want to keep them out. I have sometimes thought that all the millions of earth that go into glory are but a CTery small colony compared with the influx I rum tho whole universe. God could build n heaven large enough not only for the universe but for 10,000 universes. I do not know just how it will be, but this I know?that heaven is to be constantly augmented, and that the song of glory is rising higher nn 1 higher find the procession is coin? multi pliod. If heaven sang when Abel went up? the first soul that ever left for glory?how must it sing now when souls go up in flocks from all Christendom, hour by hour and moment by moment? Oar happy gatherings on earth are chilled by the thought that soon we must separate. Thanksgiving and Christmas days come, and the rail trains flying thither aro crowded, triad reunions take place. We have a time 3f great enjoyment. But soon it is "Goodby" in the hall, uGood-by" at the door, 1 "Good-by" on the street, "Good-by" at tho rail train, lkGood by" at the steamboat wharf. We meet in church. It is good to be hero. But soon tho doxology will be sung, tho benediction pronounced, and tho audience will be gone. But there are no separations, no good-bys in heaven. At the door of the house of many mansions no good-bys. At the psarly gate no good-bys. The song will be more pleasant because we arealwaystosing it. Mightier song as our }ther friends come in. Mightier son7 as jt.tier garlands are set on the brow of Jesus. Mightier song ns Christ's glories unfold. I stayed a week at Niagara Falls, hoping thoroughly to understand it and appreciate it Bat on the last day it seemed newer and more incomprehensible than on the first day. Grazing on the infinite rush of celestial splendors, where the oceans of delight meet and pour themselves into the great heart of God, bow soon will wo exhaust the song? Never! If ever! The old preachers, in. describing the sorrows of the lost, used to lift up their hands and shout "The wrath to come!" "The wrath to cornel" To-day I lift up my hands, and looking toward the great future cry, 'The joy to come!" "The bliss to come!" Oil, to wander on the banks of the bright river, and yot to feel that a little farther down we shall And still brighter floods entering into it! Oh, to stanJ a thousand years, listening to the enchanting music of heaven, and then to find out that the harpers are only tuning their harps. Finally, I remark that it will; be a unanimous song. There will, no doubt, be some to lead, but all will bo expected to join. It will bo grand congregational singing. All tho sweet voices of the redeemed I Grand music it will be when that new song arises. Luther sings it Charles Wesley sings it. Lowell Mason sings it. Our voices now may bo harsh and our ears uncultivated, but our throats cleared at last and our capacities enlarged, you and I will not be ashamed to utter our voices as loudly as any of them. Those nations that have always been distinguished tor their capacity in song, will lift up their voices in that melody. Those who have bad much opportunity tohear tho Germans sing will know what idea I mean to giva when I say that thejreat German nation will pour their deep, Cull voices into the new song. Everybody knows the natural gift of the African for singing. No singing on this continent nice cnat 01 mo coiorea cnurcnes in tne South. Everybody going to Richmond or to Charleston wants to hear the-Africans sing. But when not only Ethiopia, but all that continent of darkness, lifts up-lts hands, and all Africa pours her great volume of voice into the new song?that will be music for you. Addod to this aro all the sixteen thousand millions of children that are estimated to have gono into glory,.and tho host Df young and old that hereafter shall people the earth and inhabit the stars. Oh I tho new song 1 Gather it all up! Multiply it with every sweetnessl Four into it sverv harmony I Crown it with every gladness! Belt it with every splendor!: Fire it with 6very glory I. Toss it to tho greatest hoightof majesty I: Roll it to tho grandest :ycle of eternity 1?and then yom have but the faintest conception of what John experienced, when, amidst the magnificence of ipoc&lyptlc vision,.he heard it?the new song!" God grant that at last we mar all sing lL But if we do not sing the praise of Christ upon earth wa will: never sing ifeln heaven. Be sure that your hearts are now. attuned .'or thfr heavenly worship. There is-a cathoiral in Europe with an organ at each end. Drgan answers organ, and the music wives* :?ac!:ward and. forward with indescribable ;ffect.. Wel)? my friends, the time will comewhen earth and heaven will be but different sorts of one great accord. It will be joy here md joy there ! Jesus here and Jesns there T rrumpe* to trumpet! Organ to.organ! Hot ?lujah to. hallelujah! "Until the day break ind the shadows fleo away,, turn,, my be? oved, and fce thou lite a roe cc a young hart lpon the mountains of Betherl" Six Potatoes to. a Load. I was amused a few days since iu iratehing a company of laborers at work digging potatoes iu a, field in a valley of the Rimac, writes a traveler from Peru. A team of oxen plowed up the hills with a light plow, leaving the tubers exposed ! on the ground. Six Indian workmen J picked up the potatoes aud curried them to a pile in oue corner of the field, while j the overseer, a Spaniard, stood in ma- j jestic and dignified idleness, watching i the work. The- men who were picking j up the potatoes had neither pail, hag or j box in which o carry them. Two of j them put the potatoes in their hats and j the others carried them iu their hands, 1 each oue going from every part of the j field to the- pile in oue corner, carrying | five or six potatoes each trip. Here were i eight mea jf\nd a team of oxen engaged ir, j doing T/or'k which in America would bo done by one man and a boy.?Ifcio X'iH' | Journal. Richard Cakmiciiael, of "Queen Anne County, Maryland, has kept a diary for thirty years, and Hfchows that I it has invariably rained tho 20th ol i July during that tirn^ _ # | ... . . .. - - " - '' '' >'';I: RELIGIOUSJEADING. IJf THE NAME OF THE LORD. Who is this that cometh in the Lord's dear name? Wan and drooping on his road, very faint and lame, Pale brow overshadowed, eyes all quenched and dimIs it Pain who cometh? Did the Lord send him? Who is this that cometh in the Lord's dear name? Meeting never praises, only tears and blame, Mourninsf veil to hide him, eyes which tears o'erbrim? [3 this Grief who cometh? Did the Lord send him? Who is this that cometh in the Lord's dear uame? In his strange and searching gaze burns a pallid flame, . Mournful flowers crown his head, terrible and o-rim ? Ts it Death who cometb? Did the Lord send him? Sever messenger shall come if he be not sent; We will welcome one and all, since the Lord so meant; Welcome Pain or Grief or Death, saying with glad acclaim, :,(Blessed be all who come to us in the Lord's dear name!" ?[Susan Coolidge. A TRVTH WELL PCT. The Christian Witness well says: "It will be found in the end, that neither '-Christian Endeavor Societies," "Epworth Leagues,'' 'Younx Men's Christian Associations." nor any otlie- organization, will do the needed ivork. Holiness in the pulpit, holiness in the pew, holiness in the class meeting, holiaess in the love feast, holiness in the editorial chair, aud hnlinese in the theological schools, is the only thing which can ever preserve the church l'rom apostacy. or bring her back from her wanderings. There is a sad lack of holiness in all the places nam?d, hence the drifting from piety and soul saving in the church. Let us begin at the foundation." Cirr.IST CAMK TO MAKE MEX HOLY. About one thing there can be no doubt; Chri>t came to this world to make men holy. Whether we take His own wori's or those of His disciples, this alone was the object of His mission among men. Indeed, the one ruing ou wmcn .111 agree is, mat tnrist put a new and larger meaning into the words Righteousness" and holiness.'' We find it ia every phase of His teaching. No other conception of salvation than a pure heart nnd righteous living is to be fouud in the Sew Tcstinient writings. The contention of Christ with the religionists of Ilis time was that they bad lost the idea of spiritual religion out of their hearts and therefore out of their worship. Scribes and Pharisees alike kuew as they listened of His teachii g that they were not to His school; that be must be silenced or His idea of religion would p-evail.?[Central Christian Advocate. OUR TRUE DESIRES?OUR TRUE PRAYERS. In speaking of prayer as heart-work, n.nd the heart only praying for what it desires, oven in seeking full salvation, Dr. Fletcher has the following: ' To pray for what is not really desiied must be classed among some other enigmas as prevalent among professors of religiou. But there is a cause,?an unwillingness", as Fenelon somewhere remarks, to embrace the whole will of God, In crosses, external and internal humiliation, renouncement of our own wills, the death of self, and the establishment of God's throne upon the ruins of se!f-!ove. "Not to desire these is not to pray; to desire them seriously, soocrly, constantly, and with reference to "all the details of life, this is true prayer; uot to desire them, and yet to suppose*we pray, is an illusion like that of the wretched* who iVream themselves happy. How necessary, ? my soul, to be plain and honest with" these imaginary desires-after perfection!: These are the causes ?the voluntary causes?which prevent the true prayer of the heart anil which render so many prayers fruitless. Lord, help me to be sound and honest with my hearers upon these points ? ay, and with myself also. A.men." Blessed Jesus, draw out eur desires after Thee! Create in us hun:ering and thirsting after righteousness! Make plain to our understanding the way of purity! Revea! unto us the beauty and desirablen'ess-of holiness! Cut us loose from the world! Hemove or help us overcome hindrances! Teach us the simplicity and directness of tbe way of salvation! Wash us in Thy precious b!o"od, and make us "whiter than snow!" Preserve us. spirit, soul, aud body, blameless unto Thy coming!. Amen.?[Evangelical Messenger. MULTIPLICATION' OF CHCECH MACHINERY. Multiplication of church machinery indicates loss o? power. The history of the Church furnishes abundant and melancholy proof of this statement. The times of Whitefleld aud the Wesleys witnessed elaborate ecclesiastical machinery in full play, but the power was gone. The "work they began by , the bli>.?sinv of God demonstrates the ability of a spir t-rtlled church to cope with all legitimate social and moral qnestions-in her own capacity, without those multifarious, wheel-within-wheel organizations-which abounded before their time, and whioh are growing, apace again in every land. A hundred organizations-exist within the- . Church to do what God intended the Church herse f to undertake. Listen to the announcements-from the pulpit of: a. modern churcb. Ifiyour brain is not leit in a help-less, hopeless muddle of mother's- societies, temperanco societies young men's- societies; purity meetingo. children,'*- societies, red cross and white cross societies and busy-bees,. withaspriiiKlingofcburehsocials and pray-sp-meetings, it argues that you. need spend no money on Loi?ette's- memory systems Tn the ehurch that lives up to the-privi eves and fu tils the duties laid down in. "the fifth chapter of First Thcssalonians- fromi theeleventh verso of the close of the Epistle,, two-thirds-of this modern church machinery would ba not only needless, but an impertinence?a hindrance. The latistform of church machinery,.and! the worst, is that which organizes- to' "get up"'a revival. We rea l in an exchange-that? this-was-really done, and that recently.. The revival so: iety sprang into :? full-ttedged existenrev with "president; secretary, treasurer and, doubtless, standing committer a, to boot, flow vain is all this human bolstering. up.of a.ehureb from which worldlines?-and: vanity ami ungodliness have grieved: aivay the Spirit of <rod! All such haveneed; to. ask for the old paths oft Pentecostal powon,-, and stand in the old ways of confidence- in flim whose un-hortened arm can bring salvation with all its attendant blessings- of temperance. purity anu brotherly, love.?fcludia Witness. Repentance is. sorrow concerted: iiato action, into a movement to ai new ami* better life.? [31. K. Vincent. Put the gambler's or rum-feUarf's rope about the nec'^s of ignorant men. nad how much freedot |.of action ramainv' Tlie command is, '*Vv?te as 1 may say,, or ? will ruin ' you." " 1 No one s'jould trust himse'fc too much, i even though lie ha? attained to great union ( with God, yiid he be Jar remold from all creatures. JUr there is no. place so remote, no solitude so retired tiat the April may not enter.?[*jt. Teresa. No pa -ior ever foctiul a c?t^regati?n ex-, actiy t>> his wi?he>. >iai>uM any con-. ' greJaticn exjua :? perfect p.'iS'orl* The pastoral r Nation would l?c luotv stable anil ]*roducti' i of more srood if Ivth the parties to it wjj!d reun'Jv.i.'er the- imperfections si buu.r.'iii'.y. The present rope never ieav?o lais own rooms until they have been swept and dusted, which is done as .soon as he rises. He then clones all the doors and w indows and takes tlio keys away with him. This has caused the rumor that he is concealing 9ome treasure, but the real truth of the matter is that he wishes to prevent the recurrence of i the troubles which arose in the time of Pio Xono, when a regular trade was i kept up in scraps of paper attd Other objeots found iu hia roonw<.. I SABBATH SCHOOL ": INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOR ' SEPTEMBER 28. ?? A Third Quarterly Review ? Golden Text: 1 Cor. naviaw EXERCISES. Superintendent: Whom did Jesns heal is the synagogue? School: A woman who for fourteen years had been bound together by a spirit of infirmity. Superintendent: Who found fault with. Jesus? School: The ruler of the synagogue answered with indignation, because that Jesus had healed on the Sabbath day. Superintendent: "What did those who were first oidden to the great supper do? School: They all with one consent began to make excuses. Superintendent: What did the master of the house then command? School: He said to his servant, Go out < quickly into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt and the blind. Superintended: What further command did he give? School: Go out into the highway and hedges and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. Superintendent: What condition of disci* pleship did Jesus give? School: Whosoever tie be of you that forsaketh not all that ho hath, he cannot be My disciple. Superintendent: Who came to hear Jesus? School: Then drew near unto Him all the publicans and sinners for to bear Him. Superintendent: What did the scribes and " Pharisees do? School: They murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. Superintendent: What did Jesus say to them? ; ^ School: I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over r.inety and nine just persons, which need no repentance. Superintendent: What did the younger of two sons ask of his father? School: Father, give me tho portion of goods that falleth to me. v; Superintendent: What did he do when he received them? School: He gathered all together, and took his iournev into a far countrv. and there wasted his substance in riotous living. Superintendent: What did he resolve to do when he came to himself? School: I will arise and go to rav father. Superintendent: How did his father receive the returning prodigal? School: Ho had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kiss id him. Superintendent: What did the rich man in hell ask Abraham to do? School: Send Lazarus to my father's house: for I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come iuto this place of torment. Superintendent: What did Abraham re- ply? ischool. If tliey hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will thev ba persuaded, though one rose from the aead. Superintendent: Who met Jesus as He was entering a certain village? School: Ten men tliat were lepers, and they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. Superintendent: What did Jesus say to them? School: Go show yourselves unto the nriests. And it came to oass, that, as thoy went, they were cleanseX Superintendent: "What was the prayer of the pharisee? School: God, I thank Theo that I am not as other men, or even as this publican. Superintendent: What was the prayer of the publican? . School: God be mercifnl to me a sinner. Superintendent: "What did Jesus say to the rich young ruler? School: Vet lackest thoaone thing: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalthava treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me. Superintendent: What evidence of true re- . pentance did Zacchseus give? School: He said Unto the Lord, Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if 1 have taken anything from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold Superintendent: What did His Lord say to the servant who had gained ten pounds? School: Well, thou good servant; because thou hast been faithful in a very little, have thou authority over tea cities.?Westminster Question Book.. Congressmen Joke- With a Girtde. There are not many Irishmen in this Congress. Three' of the best known sons of Erin are Lawier, McAdoo and Quinn.. This trto walked to the aapitol at "Washington, together the other morning, and at the-door of the rotunda were met by a new guide who wanted to show them the sights of the- building. The three consented, and. were taken to' statuary hall to- hear the- echoes. "Now you stand right hero,.'1 said the goide, placing the- trio' on the well-known stones.. "I will move, back fifty-five feet and. whisper to' you^-and you will hear my voice as-if I wena by your sid?. AU this was donej andthB guide whispered, then spoke-,. and. finally shouted, hi^ not a word didi either- ?f the trio> hear. Thinking that possihiy he had made a mistake and put hifrvictims on the'wrong stones,, he moved thorn over against the wall and said. to> tinm: "This- is the millom- Vnn R+.ftnd here Yf ? _ and I will go across- the room and whisper against the-walL You will* hear me as if I were at youn- ear." Again the guide whispered,, h*t met with, no response.. Then: ha- gradually liaised his voice toa-shout* bet the trio* of Con- M gressmem kept their ears against die wall and made-no; sign. Rejoining: his customers,, the guixia explained; that for some reason^ probably on account of the humidity ofl th& atmosphere^, the echoes were not working well to-diyy and invited his-guests to take a Ifcok at the House-oL Representatives.. Arriving at the mainj entrance the Coagressmen started] to. walk in, when the-guide seized their arms and told themjld^y couldn't go inithere?Shat was orfyt-fiar members. "0, yes* but we can," saidi Mr. Lawler, and flipping- the astonislxect guide $1 the , 1 ?? i-!- xnifWw n\^rnnn . JOKlQg Uiaaypcm cv-pt 11,11m. v??v~y v., HtrcdiL. a. p.ice2tt expecu:ipa nas garnered nr.tati interesting ;m formation relative to th# numerous t^oi. inhabiting the Cliin Mouutains ill Asia. Froy an silifi-al report it sppears that some of tie- tribes are alr^t as barbarous and ignorant as the 3&vage3 of Cental Africa They weajr scarcely any ilothes, and the historic figleaf accurately reprebuts the frtH dress of soi;^ of tho villagers. TiLeiv dwellings, have eq furniture; tiey have no laws, no religion. and no. government, ?a.cept an incomplete viliagi system,. Medical . science *nd surgery -are absolutely unknown. Tlxcif habits are repulsive. Certain tribes are confirmed drunkards, consuming great quantities ol beee brewed by ihemselves. 'They, however, display remarkable mechanical ingenuity, constructing wonderful ^ bridges on the. cantilever principle. In some tribes the sole arms are small knives and bows and arrows. They tire skillful archers, killing tigers and bears at oighty yard.?i. The women of all the tribes have their faces hideouslv tattooed to prevent thei.j \>$in? ewrcied off by fcUe Burrcans, . . . . -A