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CHRISTMAS CAROL. Ring, merrj bells, ring, In the light of the Christmas morn; Sing, happy hearts, sing. For your Saviour, the Lord, isboni. Follow the star i To the manger far, And look on your swaddled King, ( Give, worshipers, give, With the wise from the Eastern plains; Let the suffering childreu receive From the hoards of your golden gains. Then shall ye sea The sweet mystery, That the Christ-child lives and reigns. ?ilaria Upham Drake. THE DUNNS' CHRISTMAS. BY DAVID LOWRY. HE Lord will pre V-vide." A goo> - WT n enough text if a ma A \,J ft A gets a good grip o it. A mau wh knows how to appl s?iind d o c t r i n *?might satisfy one' brain wi' it, even i aa emP^ stomach, but it's ai 'M insult on top of ai injury to cxpcct a half-starved man to con tent stomach and brain wi' gruclly scr mons. He never drew bluid from the text joost all a piece o Howry language, without mair soul or religion in't than you'd draw from a pump. If he had put a bit heart in't, but seen' there was neither heart nor brain in it, what good was all the fine words? They say he has a good delivery?the Lord deliver us from such vanity in long words. People who call in the doctors to help them whet their appetites may be satisfied wi' that kind o' prcachin', but people whose wits are taxed as much as their muscle to keep body an'soul together want more substantial food than Mr. Bai ncs brings to tho market. If wc are star red in this worid, that's no reason we should be pinched in the next. But flong comes Mr. Barnes wi' his flowery sermons, his -cambric linen, an' his hair banged, an' tells us that if we are thin Muided here, wc ought to be thankful an' satisfied, becruse wc are prepared to gc where we'll have no bluid at all." A silence fell upon Sandy Rea's audience. Many smiled, and one or two laughed outright at his quaint speech. Ti. . -I'll Z 1.1. ~ J it was a cujiiy mommg; me ucuau iujj rising from the river obscured the sky. Tho lamp in the railway station revealed men in soiled, worn, ill-fitting, patched and ragged clothes. Grimy, seamed, knotted hands clasped dinner pails. Faces lined with care; uushaved, fullbearded faces; serious, sad, resolute and apathetic faces. It was on a morning like this, when a pall huDg over the busy city, and the atmosphere was laden with fog and soot blended into a yellowish murkincss, that Shuttlcburg was shocked by an overshadowing calamity. From the midst of the dense fog flashes of light shot forth at times throughout the morning; toneues of flame ascended from the mill o " stacks; eyes of fires winked in the fog bank, and dull, yellowish glares of light were projected horizontally as the furnace doors were opened. A babel of sound a*ose; the clanging of irou against iron, ) the ringing of mighty anvils pounded by gigantic hammers, the dull, muffled sound of the iron rolls, and the ceaseless clang of iron falling on the cooling plates was borne from the river side up and over the beetling cliffs. On that dull October morning, when the wheels were whirling fast, and the iron-workers, stripped to their waisis were bathed in perspiration, a sound smote the heavy air like the crash of worlds. The iron-workers, momentarily stunned, instantly comprehended the nature of the disaster. Every man and boy who had sense and strength sought safety in flight. In the headlong rush a puddler seized a boy in his flight, and ran with him to the side of the building. A portion of the bursted boiler in its descent cut the roof of the mill as though it were made of paper; the falling timbers caught the man and boy, and before they could be extricated, the man breathed his last. The boy's right arm was lacerated from bis shoulder to his elbow; quivering muscles and bone were laid bare, a horrible sight, more pitiable than the headless trunk of the engineer lying near the boy and the dead puddler. Physicians were there in abundance; there was no lack of surgical skill, or sympathy for the victims of the explosion and the families of the bereaved. The calamity that desolated a score of homes fell heaviest upon the Dunns. Little Jem Dunn, who, when the surgeon begau the work of removing the cinders and splinters from his arm looked steadily into his gaping wounds, then calmly at the surgeon and said: uI)on't tell my mother till it's over," lost his father and eldest brother by the explosion. Another brother the surgeons thought would be crippled for life. The end of a boiler wrecked the walls of the house the Dunns occupied, and the dead and wounded members of the family were removed to Sandy liea's house. Jem's recovery was rapid. The toilers in the mill attributed it to his extraordinary pluck. The gTcat tide of sympathy that flowed out to the victims of the disaster, to the credit of Shuttleburg let it be said, assumed practical shape for a time. The charitably inclined promptly honored the lirst draft made upon them when the ex tent of the calamity was knowu. Bui when all was done that concerted actior could accomplish, the future of the Dunns was unnrovided for. John Dunn, t cheery, handsome fellow with laughing blue eyes, and a spirit that nothing could subdue, entered the mill one day, and al the end of six months reviewed -what seemed a horrible dream as he tried tc sit up unaided in his chair. Among th< wage-workersin the udjoining mill,man] quietly aided Sandy Ilac, who placed on< of his rooms at the disposal of th( Dunns, 'until they were better provide; for." Bui this iitful and unequal conlri bution simply emphasized the ncccssitj of action insuring uniform aud pcrma ncnt provision. How to provide for th< Duunswas a problem that puzzled all in tercsted in the family. The surgeons a the end of a year shook their heads whei they examined John Dunn, and spoki vaguely of the recuperative qualities ol famed waters in the Old World. Evei the wit of bandy Kae, considered one o the shrewdest and best informed men ii the mill,was not equal to the emergency To borrow his own phraseology, hi "pond had run dry, an' there were th fish to look after still." It was at this juncture that the Rt.ver end Barnes, a new-comer, announced 1 would preach a serfli?n which he hope would allay apprehensions expressed coi cerning the Dunn family. Mr. Barm chosc to interpret the fears and doub expressed as a reflection upon the A mighty. lie resolved to discharge h duty by reminding the friends of tl family that He who noted the fall of sparrow could still be trusted to provici in His inscrutable time and manner f< the helpless family without plumpin them into the poor-house, whitLer the appeared to be gravitating. "They are headed that way noo," sai Sandy Rae to his better half with a snoi of disdain as he left the church, but 1: sighed as he added, "And I'm rnaii afeerd there'll be no tumin' them roon. As his wife remained silent, walking b his side, Sandy gave auother snort cs pressing contcmpt. "Ileckl Yon ma instead o' being a man o' uncommon r< >- ?ources, is mair like Jack Dean. Yo d remember Jack wi' the stiff neck, an' n stiffer baak? When he wanted to sec hi n daughter Jenny, he ca'ad to his scn-ii 0 law Tom Parker, sayin' 'Wi' your help y an' the Lord's we'll mak oot, Tom,' bu e Tom was ever o' the opinion he bore hi s own an' the Lord's share." f A night's rest did not allay Sandy' y disgust, nor soften his temper. He pu n his bad temper into his work, and i 1 found free vent when the day turo cam - on in the mill, Monday, and the nigh - hands gathered in the little railway sta . tion to wait lor the train that carriet them to their homes. Many there lik< i himself had attended the church Saturday evening, and these were greatly edi fied with Sandy's analysis of Mr. Barnes's sermon. "You don't think Barnes's prayers ar< i worth any more than the price of two oi three hundred ball tickets at a dollar t head," saia a paic-iacea yoaag man wnc was noted for his imperturablc good nature. "1 did'na say that Billy. I hope I'll never make light o' any man's prayers? it's the presumption o' the man that points our noses to the wind and tells us to catch it in our caps to fan us wi' next summer that I'm fin'in' fau't wi'. But you've given me an idea. We'll joost Igpg -IX THE I] i tii t niHKittiirii. get up a gran' ball for the benefit o' the Dunu's." When Sandy Rea ate his breakfast that day he repaired to the room the Dunns occupied. Jem, who was fond of books, had brought a bundle of papers and some torn pamphlets to his brother; a gift from the merchant who employed Jem as an errand boy. He was showing his mother the pictures in an illustrated paper. John Dunn had twisted him3elf arounu 10 see anu near j em. xiis utubuuc as he looked at Jem made a very disagreeable impression upon Sandy Rea, who said to himself, "God save us! It's a living death for poor John. This must be mended some way." John Duna had a board on his sound knee?his mother's ironing board. The basket at Mrs. Dunn's side, and the quality of material in her lap told the story. "What's the board for, Jack?" said Sandy, cheerily. John blushed as Sandy stooped and picked up a large piece of cheap brown wrappiug paper. The paper bore a rude drawing. Sandy scrutinized it with a critical eye. "It's altogether beyond me. What's this?the houses?" John's eyes brightened. "Here?look at this. That's of no account." He pointed to the board on his kneo. "Why, that's not half bad. I see?I ! see. This is an end view?an' here is the front?the face of the roll. I see now very plainly. An' what's this?" "That's my idea. You see?here is the furnace. The ball comes out here, is carried thro Jgh here, then on to the rolls, and here it is on the plates." "That's not possible. Why?but we have the squeezers, you must remember ?an' there's the heatin' furnaces. You'll never do it in the world, John." "I'm not so sure of that. I've thought it all out." "But?that's something I'm thinkin' is beyond man's power to accomplish," 1 said Sandy, whereupon John's counteL nance fell. Then Sandy immediately regretted his speech. "Stop?I'm not so sure. I can't joosl 1 point out the shortcoming. It looks main ' proper there on paper, wno Knows t You'll may be win thioo. My! the perI severance o' the boy!" ! "He has been working on that board these three weeks steadily," said the ' widow. ! "Yes?and throe months in my head before I ever touched pencil to paper,' t said John Dunn sadly. i " 'The Lord will provide,'Mr. Barnes ' told up," said Sandy Rae to his wife, i "There's that cripple up stairs wi' no r, more color in hitn than a piece of chalk, I fast to his chair, prying his brains ou! ; wi' inventions. The boy's face was f ; study as he pointed out how he woulc > take the iron from the furnace.and fioisl i it into bars before it cooled. If it fail ' ?why, it'll be the death of him I'm - afeerd." It was .1 question of life and death t< I j the Dunns; their future now depentlet ! upon the success of John Dunn's inveu ' | tion. When he could spare time to visi | the Dunns Sandy Rea would listen ii } silence while John explained his inven J tion. Then Sandy would look at th II drawing on the ironing board, stroke hi 1 i Ko iv/1 nnrl cr?r*ifr?h hift Vvilfl VlPJlf e! alternately. He seemed to be in doub f at times, but one morning he electrifie< 1 the invalid and his nervous mother b; f rising and striking his palms as he ex 1 claimed, "I see it now! Work? It' sure to work, man. Once the iron start s in there, no power can stop it. All w 0 want now is a mill to try it in. You fortune's made, Jack." ?'Heck!" he exclaimed when he ex ' > ? : . - . io plained to his wife the value of John's id idea. "There's been a deal o' talk o' the l- future o' the Dunns, an' while this one, cs an' that one has been plannin' an' nothts in' came of it, here is God's goodnes3 I- shinin' throo a bit o* brown paper on his is mother's ironing board." ic "But," said his wife anxiously, "are a you quite sure his plan is right? There's le many a fine thing on paper, bu*; when it 5r comes to the work?" ig "Work? Huts! All the fools'11 be :y sayin'now, 'Why didn't some one think o' that long ago?" I'll din the ears o' the d owners till they give it a trial." :t And he was as good as his word, le Thanks to Sandy Rea's persistence, a jt mill owner was prevailed upon to con" struct a furnace and machinery adapted y to the purpose. In return, he received an interest in the patent. In due time n the new plant was erected. It seemed 5- ages to the inventor, but experienced u iron workers regarded the completion of a the machinery in the time consumed rei3 markable. In less than three months, i- everything was ready for the trial of the ?, new machinery. t All the iron workers in the mill were s on the tip-toe of expectation when the day appointed for the test approached, s "What if it doesn't work after all, t mother?" Jem said. Mrs. Dunn lifted t a hand warningly and looked at John, 0 who had laid aside his drawing with a t sigh. His manner was strange, nervous, < - and his mother was solicitous. He was 1 1 unable to sleep. ] "I heard what Jem said," John answered sadly, but he did not meet the } look his mother bestowed upon him. "If i it fails, Jem,?well, there's the other ? patents to fall back on. But I guess I'll ; I have to wait a good while before I can i r go to the springs in Germany." I i Fourteen months' confinement had not 3 > taken the spirit out of the brave fellow, t I "If it works at firsb, I'll be surprised, t Jem, not because it ought not to work? J I but, you see, if I ain't there, why there's two or three little things might make a ; great difference. It's pretty tough, sitting here 'caged' "?there was a tinge of n bitterness, the first his mother's quick g , ear had detected in his tone since he was h ; carried in lifeless to her?' 'and my pa- 0 . A ~* ~ s ill 1 life d JOS WORKS. . ii tent going to be tried." He said to himself if he had the means how soon he d would have devised artificial locomotion. ^ He counted on the invention to pay for g Jem's schooling. Jem was very bright, b and a universal favorite. Who knew, n John asked himself, what Jem might not accomplish in a profession? Then, if s there was half the money in it he C thought thore was, it would enable his li mother to try what a change of sccne and variety would do for her. "If the machine docs not do all we ^ onstrate the impossibility of the success J of tbo invention. They quoted authors d glibly; and a few expressed their sur- c prise that the owner of the mill should surrender valuable time to the te3t, besides incurring expense. The mill owner administrated a stinging rebuke to these carpers. "I take pleasure in furnishingsuch aid as lies in my power to all who are endeavoring to improve recognized methods, while I count it a privilege to contribute my time aud means to the development of new methods and new processes." The evening was well advanced when John Dunn heard a step on the pavement he well knew. All that weary : afternoon he had beheld men, women , and children hurrying up and down the ' street. The majority bore bundles and packages; some were loaded down with bundles; children scarcely able to walk? mere "tots" tottered along, chirping like young birds, beside the men and women they clung to. Everybody seemed to be 1 in a hurry, and why not? To-morrow ' ! was Christmas. John Dunn's heart suddenly sunk. ( i Sandy Rae's firm, deliberate step was no ' longer heard. The step paused at the > entrance to the stairway. "lie brings me the news." John's ' i hand was on the window; ho was on 1 i the point of raising it; he wauted to ' I shout down to Sandy, then he checked i himself. It may be failure. It will 5 keep. i Now another step, still more familiar to John's sharpened senses, fell on his ' > car; the light springing step of his I brother Jem. It, too, halted strangely - as it ucared the entrauco to the stairt way. i "Why do they stop there?" the invalid - asked himself, as a lump r030 in his e throat. "It must be bad nows, or Sandy s wouldn't stand there. Jem couldn't keep ' back." Then he begau to ask himself, t "If it fails?" repeating it again and again, 1 and involuntarily, unconsciously, he y supplemented it with Sandy Iica's re* frain, "The Lord will provide," until s query and answer were linked strangely s together, and a tear dropped on John e Dunn's hand. J* Now another step approached?his mother's step. It came very slowly; he ! fancied it waa more deliberate than usual. &? ? j - Yes, it meant failure. Now they wen talking in subdued tones. It was all over then. They were deliberating how to break the news to him. John Dunn leaned forward, covercd his face with his hands, and softly cried. Then he checked his tears and wiped his cheeks resolutely. He would put a brave face on it for his mother's sake. It was hardest upon her after all. A step?the s'ep that was now rarely out of his hearirfg was on of the stairs. He pretended to be looking out of the window when she entered. There were tears on her eyelashes. She looked at him so tenderly as she closed the door softly and approached him swiftly that he felt like crying out. "There! Don't speak mother. I've been repeating it over and over, 'The Lord will provide' some way." Then the door was opened suddenly, and Jem bounced in, followed by Sandy. "I'll bet?whv, look at him, Mr. Rae!" "I'm crying with joy, John," said Mrs. Dunn. "If Mr. Rae hadn't held me back, I'd been first to tell you," said Jem with sparkling eyes. "There are few men as thoughtful as Mr. Rae," said Mrs. Dunn. Sandy waived the compliment aside by saying, "Did your mother tell you the best of it?" "I have told him nothing. Mr. Cole offers ten thousand dollars down for the balf interest, and agrees to provide the plant." "Jem," said John suddenly, "I'll make pou an architect now?that's what you ire born for. What makes you look so lober, Sandy?" "1 was joost thinkin',talkin' about the !uture. It's no so long sincc we were juzzlin' our brains about providin' for re. Wow good luck has come, I'm tatcin' he lesson home to mysel' along wi' jther hings. 'The Lord will provide.' "? 3ouseici/e. Our Christmas Cyclopedia. Boar's Head?It was the custom in nerry old England for the butler with ?cat ceremony to bring into the banquet lall at Christmas dinner a boar's bead irnamented with flowers and ribbons. Ls the smoking dish appeared a Latin ong was struck up. Carols?Originally religious songs lating back to the second century. Gradually degenerated until they were irohibited by clergy. Under Saxon ;ings in England they were revived and gayer element introduced. Puritans bolished them and substituted psalms in 642. At present, in England, merry ongs sung on Christmas morning. Christmas?Celebration of Christ's naivity. Appears in history about 190 i. D. The day December 25 probably ot real date. At first the day wa3 ob expect, we'll just have to wait, Jem." a But John Dunn's voice trembled as he t said it. "It's best not to be too sure? c at least at the first go-off, you know, t We have all counted too much on it c maybe." i There was a pathos in his voice that t moved his mother ns she had not been ^ moved since the day he looked up at her when shethougnt him dead. She turned aside asking herself bitterly why her c son should be deprived of the pleasure C of witnessing his own invention. She E would be there, and Jem. The brothers F talked of little else now. t The eventful day came. The new in- 0 vention was carefully scrutinized by the C curious, the progressive, the well-wishers 11 of the inventor, and the secret and avowed sceptics. The last were clearly in the c majority. They were prepared to dem- ^ erved any time in January, February or larch. December 25 probably adopted ecause it is at the winter solstice, when be sun is nearest the earth. Germans ield a festival at this date before they rere Christianized. Christmas-box?A gift made to a ervant or one in lower position than the onor. An Euglish custom and term. Christmas Tree?The Catholic Church, 1 order to convert the heathen Germans, astituted all manner of festivities, ramas and songs. Trees decorated rith various ornaments were an outrowth of this same plan. These trees ,ave always been a characteristic of Gerjan Christmas celebrations. Lord of Misrule?A man appointed to uperintend the boisterous Christmas ;amcs which were permitted in old Engmd at Christmas time. Mistletoe?A parasitical bush to be ound on many trees in southern Engind, and more rarely in other localities nd countries. It has white translucent icrrics, and leaves of a yellowish-green olor. It was regarded as a sacred plant iy the Druids in early England. The ustom of kissing under the mistletoe aptears in both English and German hisory. The precise origin of this custom 3 not known. Santa Claus, St. Nicholas,Kris Kringle -St. Nicholas was a saint of the early hurch, and his birth was celebrated in Jermany about December C with cercaonies much like those afterward emdoyedat Christmas time. Gradually he celebration of St. Nicholas's day and if the nativity became identical. Santa Jlaus and Kris Kringle (Dutch) are almost synonymous with St. Nicholas. Yule-Log?Yule was the name for the elebration of the return of the sun or ire-wheel at the winter solstice. The ule-log which in England used to be Irawn in and put on the hearth Chrismasvc is a relic of fire-worship. Christmas Romance and Facts. Swipcsy?"What did Santer Claus jring yer, Misery?" Misery?"Oh, I got a brand new warm )veicoat and a pair o' dandy pants, and i lot o' candy and s'm'other little things. [ can't jest remember. Whatju git?" Swipcsy?"Oh, I got a sealskin cap an' some warm cloze as goes on under these, in' fourteen dinner tickets, an' lots o' :andy an' things. Now, Misery, straight ?wha'd yer git?" Misery (voice just a little shaky)? lf9av. Swiocsv. I hunted up my stockin' right, and, do ycr know, I never got i bloomin' thing!" Swineay (also shaky as to voice)? !:Nor rnc, neither." Jlistlcfoo Merriment. There are no corns on the mistletoe. A green Christmas makes a lean plumber. Wheii the Christmas tree gets "dressed up" it looks spruce. Some of the children put their Christmas stockings on the limbs of the trees. When the Christmas greens come into the market you may be sure that the holly days have come. It is better that light articles only should be put on the Christmas tree. That's why candles are used for that purpose. Ieoe! taljiage. f. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. abject: "The City ot Damascus." Text : ",4s he journeyed he came near Damascus.Acts ix, 3. In Palestine we spent last night in a mud hovel of one story, with camels and sheep in the basement. Yet never did the most brilliant hotel 011 any continent seem so attractive tome as that structure. If we had been obliged to stay in a tent, as we expected to do that night, we must have perished. A violent storm had opened upon us its volleys of hail and snow and rain and wind as if to let us know what the Bible means when prophet and evangelist and Christ Himself spoke of the fury of the elements. The atmospheric wrath broke upon us about 1 o'clock in the afternoon and we were until night exposed to it. With hands and feet benumbed, and our bodies chilled to the bone, we made our slow way. While high up on the rocks, and the Sale blowing the hardest, a signal of distress alted the party, for down in the ravines one of the horses had fallen and his rider must not be left alone amid that wilderness of scenery and horror of storm. As the night approached the tempest thickened and blackened and strengthened. Some of our attendants going ahead had gained permission for us to halt for the night in the* mud hovel I spoke of. Our first duty on arrival was the resuscitation of the exhausted of our party. My room was without a window, i nnn nn irrm stnvA wifchmifc flnv fon in t.hfl center of the rooui, the smoke selecting my eyes in the absence of a chimney. Through an opening in the floor Arab faces were several times thrust up to see how I was progressing. But the tempest ceased during tho night, and before it was fully day we were feeling for the stirrups of our saddled horses, this being the day whose long march will bring us to that city whose name cannot be pronounced in the hearing of the intelligent or Christian without making the blood tingle and the nerves to thrill, ana putting the best emotions of the soul into agitation?Damascus 1 During the day we passed Csesarea Philippi, the northern terminus of Christ's journeyings. North of that He never went. We lunch at noon, seated ou the fallen columns of one of Herod's palaces. At 4 o'clock in tne afternoon, coming to a hill top, we saw on the broad plain a city, which the most famous camel driver of all * time, afterward called Mohammed, the prophet and the founder of the most stupendous system of error that has ever cursed the earth, refused to enter because he said God would allow no man to enter but one paradise, and ho would not enter this earthly paradise lest he should be denied entrance to the heavenly. But no city that I ever saw so plays hide and seek with the tr veler. The air is so clear the distant objects seem close by. You come on the top of a hill and Damascus seems only a little way off. But down you go into a vallfiv and vou see nothing for the next half hour but barrenness and rocks regurgitated by the volcanoes of other ages. Up another hill and down again. Up again and down again. But after your patience is almost exhausted you reach the last hill top, and the city of Damascus, the oldest city under the whole heavens and built by Noah's grandsou, grows upon your vision. Every mile of the journey now becomes more solemn and suggestive and tremendous. This is the very road, for it has been the only road for thousands of years, the road from Jerusalem to Damascus, along which a cavalcade of mounted officers went, about 1S54 years ago, in the midst of them a fierce little man who nmde up by magnitude of hatred for Christianity for his diminutive stature, and was the leading spirit, and, though suffering from chronic inflammation of the eyes, from those eyes flashed more indignation against Christ's followers than any one of the horsed procession. This little man, before his name was changed to Paul, was called Saul. Bo many of the mightiest natures of all cges are condensed into smallness of stature. The Frenchman who was sometimes called by his troops "Old One Hundred Thousand," was often, because of his abbreviated personal presence, styled "Little Nap." Lord Nelson, with insignificant stature to start with and one eye put out at Calvi and his right arm takeu olf at Teneriffe, proves himself at Trafalgar the mightiest hero of the English navy. The greatest of American theologians, Archibald Alexander, could stand under the elbow of many of his contemporaries. Look out for little men when they start out for some especial mission of good or evil. The thunderbolt is only a condensation of electricity. Well, that galloping group of horsemen on the road to Damascus were halted quicker than bombshell or cavalry charge ever halted a regiment. The Syrian noon-day, because of the char ity of the atmosphere, is the brightest of all noon-days, and the noonday sun in Syria is positively terrific for i brilliance. But suddenly that noon there flashed from the heavens a light which made that Syrian sun seem tame as a star in comparison. It was the face of the slain and ascended Christ looking from the heavens, and under the dash of that overpowering light all the horses dropped with their ridere. Humaa fn op and horse's mane together in the dust. And then two claps of thunder fol- I lowed uttering the two words, the Second word like the first: "Saul! Saul!" For three days tliat fallen equestrian was totally blind, for excessive light will sometimes extinguish the eyesight. And what cornea and crystalline lens could enj dure a brightness greater than the noonday Syrian sun? I had read it a hundred times, but it never so impressed me before, and probably will never so impress me again, as I took my Bible from the saddle bags and read aloud to our comrades in travel, "As he journed he came near Damascus, and suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven, and he fell to the earth | and heard a voice saying unto him, 'Saul! Saul! Why persecutest thou Me? and he said,'Who art Thou, Lord?5 And the Lord said, 'I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest.'" But we cannot stop longeron this road, for we shall see this unhorsed equestrian later in Damascus, toward which his horse's head is turned, and at which we must ourselves arrive before night. The evening is near at hand, and as we leave snowy Hermon behind us and approach the shadow of the cupolas of two hundred mosques we cut through a circumference of many miles of garden which embower the city. So luxuriant are these gardens, so opulent in colors, so luscious of fruits, so glittering with fountains, so rich with bowers and kiosks that the Mohammedan's heaven was fashioned after what are to be seen here of bloom and fruitage. Here in Damascus at ... ? 1? ? j the right season are cnemes auu muiusn ica and apricots and aloionds and pistachios and pomegranates and pears and apples and plums tuid citrous and all the richness of the round world's pomology. No wonder that Julian called this city "the eye of the East," and that the poets of Syria hare styled it "the luster on tne neck of doves." and historians said, "It is the golden clasp which couples the two sides of the world together." Many travelers express disappointment with Damascus, but the trouble is they have carried in their minds from boyhood the book which dazz'.es so many young people, "The Arabian Nights," and they come into Damascus looking for Aladdin's lamp and Aladdin's ring and the genii which appeared by robbing them. But as I have never read "The Arabian Nights," such stuff not being allowed around our house in my boyhood, and nothing lighter in the way of reading than "Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest" and D'Aubigny's "History of the Reformation," Damascus appeared to me as sacred and secular histories have presented it, and so the city was not a disappointment, but with few exceptions a surprise. Under my window to night in the hotel at Damascus I hear the perpetual ripple and rush of the river Abaua. All. the secret is nit. i Nnw I know whv all this flora and fruit, and why everything is so green, and the plain one green emerald. The river Abana! And not far off the river Pbarpar, which our horses waded through to-day! Thank the river.-?, or rather the God who made the rivers! Deserts to the north, deserts to the south, deserts the east, deserts to the west, but here a paradise. Aud as the 1 ??,l WM/loL-nl | nveis vjtiuuu auu x tsuu unu v...? Euphrates made the other paradise, Abana and Pharpar make this Damascus a paradise. That is what marie Gen. Naiman of this city of Damascus so mad wtien ne was torn ior tne cure of his leprosy to go and wash iu the river Jordan. The river Jordan is much of the year a muddy stream and it is never so clear as this river Abana that I hear rumbling under my window to-night nor as the river Pharpar that we crossed to-day. They are as clear as though they had been sieve: through some especial sieve of the mount ains. General Naauian had great and patri otic pride in these two rivers of his own coun try, and when Elisha the prophet told bin that if he wanted to get rid of his lepros3 he must go and wash In the Jordan, he fell as we who live on the magnificent Hudsor would feel if told that we must go and wasl in the muddy Thames, or as if those who liv< on the transparent Kbine were told tbat tdey must go and wash in the muddy Tiber. So General Naaman cried out with a voice as loud as ever he had used in commanding his troops, uttering those memorable words which every minister of the Gospel sooner or later takes for his text: "Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than the waters of Israel? May I not wash in thera and be clean?' Thank God, we live in a land with plenty of rivers, and that they bless all our Atlantic coast and all our Pacific coast, and reticulate all the continent between the coasts. Only those who have traveled in the deserts of Syria, or Egypt, or have Ji the oriental cities heard the tinkling of the bell of those who sell water can rs&lize what it ia to have this divine beverage in abundance. Water rumbling over the rocks, turning the mill wheel, saturating the roots of the corn, dripping from the buckets, filling the pitchers or the household, roiling tnrou?n tn? fonts or baptistries of holy ordinance, filling the reservoirs of cities, inviting the cattle U come down and slake their thirst and th< birds of heaven to dip their wing, ascending in robe of mist and falling again in benedic tion of shower?water, living water, Goc given water I We are awakened in the morning in Da mascus by the sons of those who havi different styles of food to sell. It is not a street cry as in London or New York, bul a weird and long drawn out solo, com pared with which a buzz saw is musical It makes you inopportunely waken, anc will not let you sleep again. But to thos who understand the exact moauing of thi song it becomes quite tolerable, for thej sing: "God is the nourisher, buy my bread;" Goa is the nourisher, buy my milk;" "Goc is the nourisher, buy my fruit." As yot look out of the window you see the Moham niedans, who are in large majority in th< city, at prayer. And if it were put to vote who should be kin? of all the earth, fiftesr thousand in that city would say Christ, bul one hundred and thirty thousand would saj Mohammed. Looking from the window, you see on the housetops and on the streets Mo hammedatifl at worship. The muezzin, or thi rnHrr?nn wlin nnnnnnPA thft time O viuuvi o v* * v"5*v" -- ?? ? ? ?~ ? ?? worship, appear high up on the differen minarets or tall towers, and walk around th< minaret, inclosed by a railing and cry in ( ?d and mumbling way: "liort is great. 1 bear witness that there is no God but God. I bear witness that Mohammad is the apostle of God. Come to prayers! Come to salvation! God is great. There is no other but God. Prayers are better than sleep." Five times a day ifiust the Mohammedan jn gage in worship. As he begins he turns his face toward the city of Mecca, and unrolls upon the ground a rug which he almost always carries. With his thumbs touching the lobes of his ears, and holding his face between his hands, he cries: "GodIs great." Then folding his hands across his girdle, he looks down and says: "Holiness to Thee,0 God,, and praise be to Thee. Great is Thy name. Great Is Thy greatness, There is no deity but Thee." Then the worshiper sits upon his heels, then he touches his nose to the rug, and then his forehead, these genuflections accompanied with the cry, "Great is God." Then, raising the forefinger of his right hand toward heaven, he says: "I testify there is no deity but God, and I testify that Mohammed is the servant of God, and the messenger of God." The prayers close by the worshiper holding his hands opened upward as if to take the divine blessing, and then hi3 hands are rubbed over his faca as if to convey the blessing to his entire body. There are two or three commendable things about Mohammedanism. One iathat its disciples wa3h before every act of prayer, and that is five times a day, and there is a gospel in cleanliness. Another commendable thing is they don't care who is looking and nothing can stop them in their prayer. Another thing is that by the order of Mohammed, ana an order obeyed for thirteen hundred years, no Mohammeuau touches strong drink. But the polygamy, the many wifehood of Mohommedanism, has made that religion the unutterable and everlasting curse of woman, and when woman sinks the r ce sinks. The proposition recently made in high ecclesiastical places for the reformation of Mohammedanism instead of its obliteration, is like an attempt to improve a plague or educate a leprosy. There is only one thing that will ever reform Mohammedanism, and that is its extirpation from the face of the earth by the power of the Gospel of the Son of God, which makes not only man, but woman, free for this life and free for the life to come. The spirit of the horrible religion which prevades the city of Damascus, along whose streets we walk and out of whose bazars we make purchases, and in whose mosques we study the wood carvings and bedizepients, were demonstrated as late as 1860, wusn in this city it put to death 6000 Christians in forty-eight hours and put to the torch 3000 Christian homes, and those streets we walk to-day were red with the carnage, and the shrieks and groans of the dying and dishon ?- J 1 U~11 ored men and women maae sais pmue a uou on earth. This went on until a Mohammedan, better than his religion, Abd-el-Kador by name, a great soldier, who in one war had with 2590 troops beaten 60,000 of the enemy, now protested against this massacre and gathered the Christians of Damascus iuto castles and private houses and filled his own home with the affrighted sufferers. After a while the mob came to his door and dsmanded the "Christian dogs" whom h9 was sheltering. And Abd-ol-KaJer mounted a horse and drew his sword, and with a few of his oil soldiers around him charged on the mob and cried; "Wretches! Is this the way you honor the prophet? May his curses be upon you Shame on you! Shame! You will yefc live to repent. You think you may do as you please with the Christians, but the day ol retribution will come. The Franks will yel turn your mosques into churches. Not 8 Christian will I give up. They are raj ' . others. Stand back or I will give my met the order to fire." Then by the might of one great soul undei God the wave of assassination rolled back Huzza for Abd-el-Kader! Although now w( Americans and foreigners pass through th< streets of Damascus unhindered, there is ir many parts of the city the subdued hissing ol a hatred for Christianity that if it darec would put to death every man, woman anc child in Damascus who does not declare al legiance to Mohammed. But, I am glad tc say that a wide, hard, splendid turnpik< road has Tuthin a few years been con structed from Beyrout, on the shore of thi Mediterranean, to this city of Damascus, ant if ever a<?ain the wholesale assassination i attempted French troops and English troop; would, with jingling bits and lightnini hoofs, dash up the hills and down this Da mascus plain and leave the Mohammedai murderers dead on the floor of their mosque and seraglios. It is too late in the history o the world for governments to allow sucl things as the modern massacre at Damascus For such murderous attacks on Cbristiai missionaries and Christian disciples the Gos pel is not so appropriate as bullets or saber sharp and heavy enough to cut through witl one stroke from crown of head to saddle. But I must say that this city of Damascus as I see it now is not as absorbing as the Damascus of olden times. I turn my back upon the bazars, with rugs fascinating the merchants from Bagdad, and the Indian textile fabric of incomparable make, and the manufactured saddles and bridles gay enough for princes of the orient to ride and pull, and oaths where ablution becomes inspiration, and the homes of those bargain makers of to-day, marbled and divaned and fountained and upholstered and mosaiced and arabesmitvl nnd pnlonaded until nothing can b< added, and the splendid remains of the great mosque of John, originally built with gate* so heavy that it required five men to tun: them, aud columns of porphyry and kneeling places framed in diamond and seventy four stained glass windows and six hundrec lamns of pure gold, a single prayer offera in this mosque >?id to be worth thirty tuou sand prayers offered in any other place, turn my back on all these and see Damascu as it was when this narrow street, which thi Bible calls Straight, was a great wide street, a New York Broadway or a Parisian Champ: Elysees, a great thoroughfare crossing th( city from gate to gate, along which trampec and rolled the poinp of all nations. There goes Abraham, the father of all the faithful. He has in this city be.'n purchas ing a celebrated slave. There goes Ben Ha> dad of Bible times, leading thirty-two conquered monarchs. There goes David, King, warrior and sacred poet. There goes Tamerlane, the conqueror. There goe3 Haroun a! Raschid, once the commander cf au army oi ninety-Ova thousand Persians and Arabs 1 - - f. ''vi ???mmm? 1 There comes a warrior on hi* way to the bar* 5 - racks, carrying that kind of sword which - the world has forgotten how to make, s - Damascus blade, which the interlacing* of i color changing at every new turn of the t light, many colors coming and going and in- .. . 5 terjoimng, the blade so keen it could cut in P y i twain an object without making the low^ri^^'> i par t of the object tremble, with an elasticity / . "J> ' that could not be broken, though yon brought the point of the sword clear back to the hilt, and having a watered appearance which made the blade seem as though just dipped in a clear fountain, a triumph of cutlery which a thousand modern foundrymea and chemists have attempted in vain to Imitate. On the side of this street damask* named after this city, figures of animals and finiifa anriianHcAanoa hora hftfncr flref. into sUk^dAmasks. And specimens of Samaskeenine by which in this city steel and Iron were nrst graved, and then tne grove* . J, i filled with wire of gold?damaskeening. Bat | stand back or be ran over, for here are attha gates of the city laden Caravans from Aleppo 1 m one direction, and from Jerusalem in ani other direction, and caravans of all nations paying toll to the supremacy. Great is Da) mascus! > But what most stirs my soul is neithef > chariot nor caravan nor bazar nor palace, > but a blind man passing along the street; : small of stature and insignificant in personal > appearance. Oh, yes: we have seen him beJ fore. He was one of that cavalcade coming > from Jerusalem to Damascus to kill Chri? tians, and we saw him and his horse tumbll 1 up there on the road some distance oat of tb? city, and he got up blind. Yes, it is Saol of Tarsus, nowgoing along this street called 3 Straight. He is led by his friends, for hi i caunot see his hand before his face, unto tto t bouse of Judas; not Judap the bad.but Jutfta the-good. In another part of this city one Ananias, not Ananias the liar, but j Ananias the Christian, is told bj i the Lord to go to this boost . . 3 of Judas on Straight street and put his hands r on the blind eves of Saul that his sight might return. "Oh," said Ananias, "I dare not go; I that Sanl is a terrible fellow. He idlli '?>& i Christians and he will kill me." "Go," said the Lord, and Ananias went. There sits in 3 blindness that tremendous persecutor. Hi I was a great nature crushed. He had started tny *ha D*ma<u?n<J for thfl 0IM DUTDOfffiOf - t assassinating Christ's followers, bat tin00 3 r that fall from his horse he has entirety ,~L 1 changed. Ananias steps up to the sightlasi man, pats his right thumb on one eye and 9 the left thumb on the other eye, and in an E outburst of sympathy and loye and fait! t says: "Brother Saul I Brother Saul! th< j Lord, eyen Jesus that appeared unto thee is i the way as thou earnest, has sent '~ me that thou mayst receive thy sight and' \ ba filled with the Holy Ghost.^ Instantly ' * something like scales fell from the blind man's eyes, and he arose from that seat tb? ', mightiest eyangel of all the a^es, a Sir Willi : iam Hamilton for metaphysical analysis, a >John Milton for sublimity of thought, 8 Whiteflald for popular eloauenoe, a Joba:$?x Howard for widespread philanthropy, but more than all of them put together inspired, thunderbolted, multipotent, apostolic. Did Judas, the kind host of this blind man, 01 a / A.U* <M*?1aa /livvn #PA1M iiU&llltU, MIO VXOlVUi, OITO OMUW utvy - ---r-r the sightless eves? I think not. But Paul v knew they had fallen, and that is all that happens to any of us when we are converted. ; \ The blinding scales drop frotn our eyes we see things differently. A Christian woman missionary among t most degraded tribe, whose religion wa? never to wash or improve personal a wear ance, was trying to persuade one of tho? heathen women not only of need of chang? o of heart but change of habits, which would ' result in change of appearance but the eiforf failed until the missionary bad placed in he! own hallway a looking glass, and when th? barbaric woman passing through the hall saw herself in the mirror for the first time, she exclaimed, "Can it be possible 1 look liki that?" and appalled at her own appearanoi she renounced her old religion ana asked td be instructed in the Christian religion. And so we feel that we are all right is our sinful and unchanged condition UDtil the scales fall from our eyes, and in the looking glass a4 God's word we see ourselves as we really are, until divine grace transforms us. There are many people in this house to-day as blind as Paul was before Ananias touched - >V his eyes. And there are many here from i whose eyes the scales have already fallen. You see all subjects and all things different-^-^ ly?God and Christ and eternity, and youq^Hf own immortal spirit. Sometimes the scales^^H do not all fall at once. When I was a boy/ at Mount Pleasant, one Sunday afternoon I - ?t- 11DI- Pnvmua nf a reacung jjoaina^e a xvi?o ^ ,M Religion in the Soul," that afternoon soma -I of the-scales fell fro.n my eyes and I saw a 1 little. After I had b3en in the ministry about I a year, one Sunday afternoon in the village I parsonage reading the Bible story of the Syro I rhenician's faith, other scales fell from 1 1 my eyes and I saw batter. Two Sunday I evenings ago, while preparing for the even- I ing service in New York, I pickal up a book that I did not re-namber to have seea I before, and after I hai read a page about I reconsecration to Goi I think tne remain- I ing scales fell from my eyes. Shall not I our visit to Damascus to-day result, like I Paul's visit, in vision to the blind and In- g creased vision for those who saw somewhat 9 before? 1 I was reading of a painter's child wbo be- I came blind in infancy. But after the child I was nearly grown a surgeon removed the I blindness. When told that this could be done, I the child's thought, har mother being dead, I > was she would be able to see her father, who - I 1 had watched over her with fjreat tenderness. I When night came she was in raptures, and fl ran her hands over her father's face, and v-V shut her eyes as if to assure herself that this I was really the fathar whom she had only E known by touch, and now looking upon I him, noble tn?n as he was in appearance as I wall os in reality, she cried out: "Just to I think that I had this father so many years I I and never knew him!" As great and greater I is the soul's joyful surprise when the scales ft fall from the eyes and the long sp'ritnal 9 I darkness is ended, and we look up into oar I * Father's face always radiant and loving, but - I ' now for the first revealed, and our blindness I ^ forever gone, we cry, "Abba Father.0' I - To each one of this vast mnltitnde of i auditors I say as Ananias aiu uu omu - v<. _ r Tarsas when his sympathetic fingers touched i the closed eyelids: "Brother Saul 1 Brother I Saul! The Lord even Jesus that appeared H unto th*e in the way that thou earnest, hath I seat me that thou mightest receive thy sight H 3 and b? filled with the Holy Ghost!" Hrl # While the Germans were laying l sege to Paris about twenty years ago, M. Thiers came out of the city to con| suit with Bismarck about the proposed . capitulation. Of course it was the * Frenchman's duty to present a cheerful s front and to try to oonvey the impres3 eion that the people of Paris were not ' in the desperate condition imagined by j the besiegers. On the other hand, s Bismarck was pretty well satisfied thai j the Parisians were being Btarved out, I. but of course he intimated no such J thing in the presence of M. Thiers. I After the conference Bismarok ? ? a i I invited M. Thiers to dinner, aim I the Frenchman only too gladly accepted the invitation. Then it was thai the wily German noticed that Thiers ate voraciously of the breads and vege1 tables, rejected the canned and pickled foods, and partook with seeming avidL ity of the fresh meat. This quite confirmed Bismarck's suspicions ? Paris I was starving. After M. Thiers went ' back to the city there was found in the I apartments assigned to him at Biss marck's headquarters part of a Paris 1 newspaper, and from items in it it was learned the conditon of things in Paris 1 was even more desperate than had | been supposed by the Geynoans. r I s I A 3Iaint: tnrl finding ft inconvenient J w . - to carry cliewing gum with her, estab- jfl i lished stations in various parts of tho | town, where she sticks her quids. One is in a dry-goods store, one in the oharch ? choir, one in her own dining-room, one fl at a school, and soon. In fourteen States of thia country K woman may vote for tdunioipal officers gj and at school elections, and in some oi fl them hold office in .Bohool disfcriots. ... I