University of South Carolina Libraries
s*?mkbh* /ilEOllALMAGEr! f [THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUN- 1 DAY SERMON. Subject: ''The Homesick; Soul." Text: ' / will arise and go to my father* | ?Luke xv., 18. There is nothing like hunger to take the energy out of a man. A hungry man can I 1 11 ??1' ?:aL ? ? ???" KonH nnr font; ! TOH neitaer wuu \mu, uui There lias boen many an army defeated, not j so ranch for lack of ammunition as for lack of bread. It was that fact that took the fire I out of this young man of the text. Storm ! and exposure will wear out any man's life in j time, but hunger makes quick work. The j most awful cry ever heard on earth is the j cry for bread. A traveler tells us that in | Asia Minor there are trees which bear fruit j looking very much like the loug bean of our time. It is called the carab. Once in a while the people reduced to destitution would eat these carabs, but generally the carabs, the beans spoken of here in the text, were thrown only to the swine, and they crunched thetn with great aviditv. But this young man of my text could not even get them without stealing them. So one day amid the swine troughs he begins to soliloquize. He says: "Tnase are no I clothes for a rich man's son to wear; this is I no kind of business for a Jew to be engaged I in?feeding swine; I'll go home, I'll go home; | I will arise and go to my father." X know there are a great many people who try to throw a fascination, a romance, a halo about sin; but notwithstanding all that Lord Byron and George Sand have said in regard to it, it is a mean, low, contemptible business, and putting food and fodder into the troughs of a herd of antiquities that root and wallow in the soul of man is a very poor business for men and (Comen in* J rrvrW tended to De sons ana aau^uters w uuo uv.u Almighty. And when this young man resolved to go home it was a very wise thing for him to do, and the only question is whether we will follow him. Satan promises large wages if we will serve him, but he clothes bis victims with | rags, and he pinches them with hunger, and j when they start out to do better he sets after ' them all tbe bloodhounds of perdition. ! Satan comes to us to-day and be promises all | luxuries, all emoluments if we will only i serve him. Liar, down with thee to the pit! I "The wages of sin is death." Oh, the young man of the text was wise when he uttered | the resolution, "I will arise and go to my : father." In tbe time of Mary the Persecutor, a per- | secutor came to a Christian womau who had | hidden in her bouse for the Lord's sake one of Christ's servants, and the persecutor said, | ' Where is that haretic!'" The Christian j woman said. ' You open that trunk and you will see tbe heretic." The persecutor opened the trunk, and on the ton of the linen of tho trunk he saw a glass. He said, "There is no heretic here." "Ah," she said, "you look in the glass and you will see the heretic." As I take up the mirror of God's word to-day I would that instead of seeing the prodigal | son of the text we might see ourselves?our | want, our wandering, our sin, our lost con- j dition?so that we might bo as wise as this young man was, and say, "I will arise ami go to my father." The resolution of this tes t was formed in disgust at his present circumstances. If this young man had been by his employer set to cultui iug flowers or training vines over an j arbor or keeping account of the pork market or overseeing other laborers he would not have thought of going home. If he had had his pockets full of money, if he hod been able j to say, "I havea tbousau i dollars now of my j -own; what's the use of my going bae'e to my | father's house? do you think I am going back to apologize to the old man? why he would j put me on the limits; he would not have go- ' ing on around the old place such conduct as j I nave engaged in, I won't go home; there ; is no reason why 1 should go home; 1 have | plenty of money, plenty of pleasant sur- j rounding?, why should i go home?' Ah! it was his pauperism, it was his beggary. He i hadtogSbSme. Some man comes and says to me: ''Why ; do you talk alout the ruined stati of the I huma.il soul? Why don't you speak about | the progress of the Nineteenth century, and j talk of something more exhilarating?" It u ! for this reason: A mau never wants the | Gospel until he realizes ho is in a famine- j struck state. Suppose I should come to you j in your home and you are in good, sound, ! robust health, and I should begin to talk j about medicines, and about how much better j this medicine is than that, and some other { medicine, and talk about this physician and ] that physician. After a while you get tired, i and you would say "I don't want to hear j about medicines. Why do you talk to me | of physicians? 1 never have a doctor." But suppose I come into vour house and I j find you severely sick, and 1 know the medicines that will cure, and I lmow the physi- | cian who is skillful enough to meet your I case. You say: "Bring on that medicine; | brine on that physician. I am terribly sick, j and I want help." If I came to you and you J feel ^ou are aJJ right in body,ana all right in j mm J, ana ail ngai in sum you uave uesu uj. nothing; but suppose I have persuaded you that the leprosy of sin is upon you, tho worst of all sickness ;"oh, then you say: "Bring me that balm of the Gospel; bring me that divine medicament; bring me Jesus Christ." But says some one in the audience, ''How ; do you prove tiiat we are in a ruined condi- J tiou by sin?" Well, I can prove it iu two ; ways, and j*ou may have your choice. I | can prove it by the statements of men or J by the statement of God. Which shall it : be? You all say, "Let us have the stat->?- : ment of God." Well. He says in one place, j "The heart is deceitful above all things and ! desoarately wicked." He says in another } place, "What is man that ho should be j clean!'and he which is born of a woman. | that, he should be righteous?" He says ia another place, "There is none that doeth good, no, not one." He says in another place, "As by one man sin entereth into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed xxpon all men, for that all have sinned." "Well," you say, "I am willing to ac knowledge that, but why should I take the partic- | ular rescue that you propose?" This is tho reason, "Except a man be born a*ain he cannot see the kingdom or God. iniaistue j reason, 'There is one name given under j heaven among men whereby thoy may be | saved." Then there ara a thousand voieds ; here ready to say, "Well, 1 am road y to ac- j cept this help ot the Gospel; I would like to j have this divine cure; how shall I go to j work"'" Let me say that a mere whim, an j undefined longing amounts to uotbing. You must have a stout, trem mdous resolu- I tion iike this young man of the text when he said, "I will arise and go to my father." "Oh!'! says some man, "how do I know my father wants me? How do I know, it' I go back, I would be received?" "Oh!" says aome man, "you don't know where I have j been; you don't know how far I have waudored: you wouldn't talk that way to me if j you knew all the iniquities I have commit- i ted'" What is that flutter among the augels I of God- It is news, it is ne ws! Christ has j found the lost. Nor angels can their joy conthin. But kimlic with new ire; The sinner !o<t. Is fo'ind, they sing;. And strike the souoiiin^ lyre. W hen Mapoieon tal!;e;io? going into Italy. | they said: "You can't get there. If you knew what the Alps were you wouldn't talk about it or think of it. You can't get your ammunition wagons over the Alps." Then Napoleon rose in his stirrups and waving his hand toward the mountains, hssaid, ' There hall be no Alps." That wonderful pass was laid out which has been the wonderment of | all the years since?the wonderment of all j engineers. And you tell me there are such ' mountains of sin between your soul and God, > there is no mercy. Then I see Christ wav- I ing His hand toward the mountains. I hear j Him say. "I will come over th<* mountains of | thy sin and the hills of thy iniquity." There ; shall he no Pyren3es; there shall be no Alps, i Again, I notice that this resolution of the ' young man of the text was founded in sor- , row at bus misbehavior. It was not mere j physical plight. It was crief that he had so j maltreated bis father. It i3 a sad thin? | after a father has done everything for a chili j to have that child l*e ungrateful. Dow sharper than a serpent's tooth, It is, To hive a thankbss ciuld. That is Shakespeare. "A foolish son is th9 i heaviness of his mother." That is the Bible. [ Well, my friends, have not some of us been ! cruel prodigals? Have we uot maltreated . our Father? And such a Father! So lov- j ing; so kind. If He had beeu a stranger, if , He had forsaken us, if He ha J flagellate 1 us, j if He had ooundod us and turnad us out of j doors on the commons, it would not hnva I been so wonderful?our treatment of Him: j but He Is a Father so loving, so kind, an 1 I yet how many of us for our wand .riugs have ' never apologized. We apologize for wrongs I done to our fellows, but some of us perhaps have committed ten thousand, times- ten thousand wrongs against God and never apologized. I ro.naric still farther that this resolution of the text was founded in a feeling of homesickness. I don't know how long this young man, bow many months, how many years he had been away from his father's- house;, but there is somethiug in the reading of my text that makes ma think he was-homesick. Some of you know what that feeling is, Far away from home sometimes, surrounded by everything bright and pleasant-plenty of friends?you have said, "I would <ive the world to be home to-night." Well, this young man was homesick for his father's house. I have no doubt when he thought of his father's house he said, ''Now, perhaps father may not be living." We read nothing in this story?this parable founded on. everyday lite?read nothing about the-mother. It savs-nothing about going home to her. I think she was dead. I think she had died of a broken heart at his wanderings. A man never gets over having lost his mother. Nothing said about her here. But he is homesick for his father7? bouse. Ho thought be would lust Ilka to go and walk around the old place, tie thought be would just like to go and see If things were as they used to be. Many a man after having been off a long while bas gone home and knocked at the door, and a stranger bas come. It is the old homestead, but a stranger comes to the door. He finds out father is gone and mother is gone, aud brothers and sisters all gone. I think this young man of the textaaid to himsalf, "Perhaps father may be dead." Still he star to to find out. He is homesick. Are there any here to-day homesick for God, homesick for heaven? A sailor, after having been long on the sea, returned to his father's house, and his mother tried to persuade him not to go away again. She said: "Now you had better stay at home. Don't go away; we don't want you to go. You will have it a great deal better here." But it made him angry. The night before he went again to sea he heard nla mother praying in the next room, and that made him more angry. He went far out on the sea, and a storm came up, and he was ordered to very perilous duty, and he ran up the ratlines, and amid the shrouds of the ship he heard the vobe that he had heard in the next room. He tried to whistle it off, he tried to rally his courage, but he could not silence that voice be had heard in the next room,* and there in the storm aud the darkness he said: "0 Lord 1 what a wretch I have been: what a wretch I am. Help me just now, Lord God." And I thought in this assemblage to-day there may be some who may have the memory of a father's petition or a mother's prayer pressing mightily upon the soul, ana that this hour they may make the same resolution I find in my text, saying, "i will arise and go to my father." A lad at Liverpool went out to batha, went out into the sea, went out too far, got beyond his depth and he floated far away. A ship bound for Dub'in came alon;? and took him on board. Sailors are generally very generous fellow?, and one gave him a cap and another gave him a jacket, and another gave him shoes. A gentleman passing along on the bmch at Liverpool found the Lad'a clothes and took them home, and the father j was heartbroken, the mother was heartbroken ! at the loss of their child. They had heard nothing from him day I after day, and they ordered the usual mourn- j ing for the sad event. But the lad took ship from Dublin and arrived in Liverpool the i very day the garments arrived. He knocked j at the door, and the father was overjoyed, and the mother was overjoyed at the return I of their lost son. Oh, my friends, have you j waaea out too neep: nave yuu \ra.i?u uowu into sin? Have you waded from the shore? Vv'iU you come back? When you come back, wili you come in the rags of your sio, or will you come robed in the Saviour's righteousness? I believe the latter. Go home to your God to-day. He is waiting for you. Go home I But I remark concerning this resolution, it was immediately put into execution. Th3 context says, "He arose and came to his j father." The trouble in nine hundred and I ninety-nine times out of a thousand is that j our resolutions amount to nothing because j we make them for S3m9 distant time. If I resolve to become a Christian next year,that amouuts to nothing at all. If I resolve to become a Christian to-morrow, that amounts ; to nothing at all. If I resolve at the service j to-night to become a Christian, that amounts to nothing at all. If I resolve after I go i home to-day to yield my heart to God, that amounts to nothing at all. The only kind of resolution that amounts to anything is the J resolution that is immoaiately put into execution. There is a man who had the typhoid fever. He said: "Oh! if I could get over this terrible distress! If this fever should depart, if I could be restored to health, 1 would all the rest of my life seive God." The fever departed. He got well enough to walk around the block. He got well enough to go over to New York aud attend to business. He is well to-day?as well as ho ever was. Where Is the broken vow? There is a man who said long ago, "If I could live to the year 1891, by that time I will have my business matters arranged, and I will have time to attend to roligion, and I will be a good, thorough, consecrated Christian." The year 1891 has come. January, February, March, April, May, June?almost half of the year gone. Where ia your broken vows. "Ob," says some man, "I'll attend to that wh-iu I can get my character fixed up. w nen i can gee over my evu nauus. i i am now given to strong driuk," or, says the man, "lamgiventouncleannes.y'or.saysthe j man, "I am given to dishonesty. When I get | over my present habits, then I'll be a thor- j ough Christian." My brother, you will get | worse and worse, until Christ takes you in hand, "Hot the righteous; sinners, Jesus ' came to oall." Oh! but you say, "I agree with you on all that, but I must put it off a little longer." Do you know there were many who came as near as you are to the kingdom of God and never entered it. 1 was at East Hampton and I went into the cemetery to look around, and in that cemetery there are twelve graves side by side?the graves of sailors. This crew, some years ago, in a ship went into the breakers at Amagansett, about three miles away. My brother, then preaching at East Hampton, had been at the burial. These men of the craw came very near being saved. The people from Amagansett saw the vessel and they shot rockets, and they sent ropes from the shore, and these poor fellows got into the boat, and they pulled mightily lor the shore, but just before they got to the shore the rope snapped and the boat capsized and they were lost, their bodies afterward washed up on the beach. Oh, what a solemn day it was?I have been told it by my brother?when these twelve men lay at the i foot of the pulpit and he read over them the I funeral service! Thfy came very near shore | ?within shouting distance of the shore?yet did not arrive on soli l lan I. There are some ! men who come almost to the shore of God's [ mercy, but not quite, not quite. To be only ' almost saved is not to b9 saved at all. I will tell you of two prodigals, the one j that got back and the other that did not get back. In Virginia there is a very prosperous and beautiful hom^ in many respects. A young man wandered off from that home. He wan lered very far into sin. They heard of him often, but he was always on the wrong track. He would not go home. At i /\# K/\m?vfPnI liAmo nna n 1 frhf. 1 iuo uuvi ui buav ucauvvtm mvuio vmv -.q-. there was a great outcry. The young man of the house ran down and opened the door to see what was the matter. It was midnight. The rest of the family were asleep. There were the wife and the children of this prodigal young man. The fact was he had coine home and driven them out. He said: "Out of this house. Away with these children; 1 will dash their brains out. Out into the storm!" The mother gathered them up and fled. The next morning the brother, the young | man who had staia at home, went out to find this prodigal brother and soa, and he cama where he was, and saw the young man wandering up and down in front of tho place where he had been staying, and the young man who had kept his integrity said to tho older brother: "Here, what does all this mean? What's tho matter with you? Why do you get in this way?" The prodical looked at him and said: "Who am I? Who do you take me to be?" tie saia, " You are my brother." "No, I aui not; I am a brute. Have you seen anything of my wife and children? Are they deal? I drove them out la.it night in the storm. I am a brute. John, do you think there is any help for me? Do you think I will ever <*et over this life of dissipation?" He said, "Brother, there is just one thing that will stop this." The prodigal ran his linger across hi3 throat and said: "That will stop it, and I'll stop it before night. Oh! my brain; I can stand it no longer." That prodigal never got home. But I will tell you of a prodigal that did get home. In England two young men started from their father's house and went down to Ports moufchi Thefuther eoald no* paraae hi* I children; for some reason be coold not leave j home, a ad so he wrote a letter down to Mr. j Griffin, saying: "Mr. Griffin, I wish you I would go. and see my two sons. Tbey hare j arrived in Portsmouth, ?nd they are going ; to take-3hip and going away from home. I i wish you would persuade them back." Mr. Griffin went, and he tried to persuade them j back. He persuaded one to go. He went with, very easy per.-nmsion, beeaose he was very homesick already. The other young man 6aid: "I will not go. I have had enough of homo. Til never go home.'* "Well,"said Mr. Griffln, "then if you won't go home, 1*11 | get you a respectable position on a respect- , able ship." "No you won't," said the prodi- [ gal; "Noyoawont lam going as a com- j noon sailor: that will plague my father most, ] aiul what will do most to tantalize anu worry him will please me best." Years passed on,and Mr. Griffin was seated in his study one day when a message came to him that there was a young man in irons on a ship at the dock?a young man condemned to death?who wished to see this clergyman. Mr. Griffln went down to the dock and went on shipboard. The young man said to him, "You don't know me, do yon." "No," he said; "I don't know you.'' "Why, don't you remember that young man you tried to persuade to go home, and he wouldn't go?" "Oh, yes," said Mr. Griffin. "Are you that man?" "Yee, I am that man," said the other. "I would like to have you pray for me. I have committed mur- I ' ' * T * ?? ! der, and I must die, out k uuu . nui. out of this world until some one prays for me. You are my father's frftnd and I wnnld like to have you pray for me." Mr. Griffin went from judicial aucnority to judicial authority to get the young man's pardon. He slept not night nor day. He went from Influential person to Influential person until some way he got that young man's pardon. He came down on the dock, and as ne arrived on the dock with the pardon the father came. He had heard that his son, under a disguised name, had been committing crime and was going to be put to death. So Mr. Griffin and the father went on the ship's deck, and at the very moment Mr. Griffin offered the pardon to the young man, the old father threw his arms around the son's neck and the son said: "Father, I have done very wrong and I am very sorry, I wish I had never broken your heart. I ain very sorry." "Oh!" said the father, "don't mention it; it don't make any difference now. It is all over. I forgive you, my son," and he kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. To-day I offer you the pardon of the Gospel ?full pardon, free pardon. I do not care what your sin has been. Though you sa / you have committed a crime against God, against your own soul, against your fellowman, against your family, against tCre day - - - ?J' a. ?nh,^ of judgment, agamst wo uv? ~ whatever your crime has been, here Ls pardon, full pardon, and the very mom wit that you take that pardon your heavenly Father throws His arms around about you and says: ,-My son, I forgive you. It ia all right. You areas much in My favor now as if you had never sinned." 01 there Ls joy 0:1 earth and joy in heaven. Who will take the Father's embrace? There was a gentleman in a rail car who saw in that same car three passengers of very different circumstanoes. The first was a maniac. He was carefully guarded by his attendants. His mind, like a ship dismasted, was beating against a dark, desolate coast, from which no help could com9. The train stopped, and the man wa3 taken out into the asylum to waste away, perhaps, through years of gloom. The second passenger was a culprit. The outraged law had seized on him. As the cars jolted the chains rattled. On his face ware crims, depravity and despair. The train halted and he was taken out to the penitentiary, to which he bad been condemned. There was the third passenger, under far different circumstances. She wa3 a bride. Every hour wis gay as a marriage bell. Life glittered and beckoned. Her companion was taking her to his father's house. The train halted. The old man was * '?~ hoi. fn hap n?tv hnmp and WUC1C7 nciwvuiv uw? w ? v. ? ? his white locks snowed down upon lier as he sealed his word with a father's kiss. Quickly wo fly toward eternity. W? will soon be there. Some leave this life condemned. Oh, may it be with us, that, leaving this fleeting life for the next, we may find our Father ready to greet us to our new home with Him forever. That will be a marriage banquet 1 Father's welcome I Father's bosom: Father's kiss! Heaven! Heaven! A Myaterions Volcano. Florida's mysterious "volcano" ia again the object of research. On the Waucissa River, close by Ihe gulf and about thirty miles from Tallahassee, lies a doaae swamp which is anywhere from -lAMAnn ATfAOff ill. llilCCU UU Ltilll/jr LUI1\53 11LIU53 JU C*WIJ v*4" rection. From the midst of this swamp, during the past half century, from time to time Hhsjarieen a dense black, column of smoke, fboking as though it issued from some hujje factory chimney, rising high above the tree tops aud hanging like a pall in the air. At night a bright light is plainly to be seen, though no flames are visible. This phenomenon appears aud disappears at irregular intervals, but always %in the sameplace, and some tew years ago it was seen during twelve continuous months. Tbis strange appearance has excited the curiosity of thousands, and numerous attempts have been made to unra7el the mystery of Pinhook swamp, but so far the swamp, and consequently its secret, have proved impenetrable. Some fifteen years ago the New York Herald, put up a standing otler of $1000 for its discovery, and Judge Bell, of Mouticello, uudertook the exploration, but after spending weeks of toil and hardship, a3 well as about $1000 in cash, he gave it up. Judge "White, of Quincy, then started out, retolved to solve that mystery, but he too, came back as ignorant as he went, his party finally deserting in disgust and compelling him to return home. Since then expedition after expedition has started out, only to be baffled by the imhunnfmKln a n.>n m i\ nrifli anolroa ^wui/wuwn, oiYmup duc*i%v?, | alligators and those mo3t aunoying of ; lecs dangerous enemies to the human race?sandflies and mosquitoes. Ex- 1 plorers can get all arouud that swamp, , and can sec the "voleano" trom all sides, j but through that wilderness no mortal , man has ever passed. Only a few ; months ago an enterprising coirespon dent of a New York newspaper deter- j mined to settle the question once for all, ' but his quest was brought to a sudden j and untimely end, as, like the hero of i nursery fame, he ''fell down and broke j his crown," in climbing up a pine tree j for a better view of his surroundings. ! Another party followed after him, but ; they too, have returned minu3 the vol- j cauo, notwithstanding the fact that they were supplied with a good engineer as well as compasses. They were obliged to literally hew out cach step they took, j so oensc wa.3 tiie growtn, aaa w.tn tao | hardest work they only succeeded in i making about one and a half milts of ' progress a day.?Atlanta Co.utitvtion. I Writing on the Cars. There are two ways of writing on a 1 train. The first re<juire3 that the paper 1 be laid upon a light board, perhaps eighteen inches square; one end of this . will rest in your lap, and the end farthest ! from you will be ruised a few inc'uc3 by | a cord which pusses around the neck, i The whole affords a sloping desk which i moves with the body and his fairly satis- j factory. The simpler and perhaps tha better plan is to place your tablet upon a feather pillow in your lap, wh&fyou will find that the elasticity of the feathers reduces the motion to a minimum and makes writing easy.?San Francisco . Qhroniclc. RELIGIOUS- READING. T.FT DOWN rODR:2fSTfc Launch out into the deep. The awful depths of a world's despair; Hearts that are breaking and eyes that weep, Sorrow and ruin and death' arc there. And the gea is wide, and the pitiless-tide Hears on its hossom?away. Beauty and youth in relentless ruth To its dark abyss for aue, for aye> But the Master's voice comes overtime sea, * ' Letdown your nets for a drausrht" for Mel He stands in our midstca our wreck-strewn strand. And sweet and royal is Hte cominami. His pleading call Is to each?to all; And wherever the royal call is hearf, There hang the nets of the royal Word. Trust to the nets and not to your skill, Trust to the royal Master's will! Let down your nets each day, each* hour, For the word of a King is a word of power, And the King's own voice cornea over the sea, " Let down youriitte tor a uraugat ior oisj ?[Sunday Magazine. EVV, SPEARj TO THAT YOOLti MAN ! Yea, run! Lose no time, for, 1st. Hia own wicked passion are spealc: ing to bim. Tbey are loud, carnal, eioquent. They Iiave been hear*!, and are likely to'be heardtiftain. Tbey speak, too. in ail varieties ofe circumstances; alone, In tha crowd, by nigjbtj and by da.?. The danger ia, that he will listen* to. and obey them again. Therefore hasten. Ami do ao also, 2. Because Satan is in hot pursuit of that young ma^j, He wants him. He bas work for bim to-do. He taa goa something out of him alreidy, and will geb more if possible.. He is plying him with assorts of seductions. The bias.of the heart towards evil, inclines the youag man to listeu. 13ut he must noi. And perhaps j'our hasty interposition may break tie cuarm. Th&refore ruu and speak. Do also, 3. 3ecauso wicked companions are clainoronaabout him. They want him. He-will make a gay companion'for them. Ha-will comfort and strengthen them iu their evil , ways. His money, bis wit, bis cxcited pas ' sisns will give fresh impulse to tuo roar or j cab -Uoweil merriment. Already ha is half I persuaded. Hasten before tlie die is cast, j ''What shall I say to him?" Say to blin there is a fearful combination against him. His sinful passion?, the irreat enemy of all righteousness, and his wicked coniDanions. are the parties. Their object is bis undoing. Against that combination, and in f.ivor of his '. est KOO<l, are "He chat loved him and | died for himall the hoiy angels; all the | saints: his own conscienc?. In words that burn, impelling, though full of love, warn him. Perhaps it requires but that one appeal to break his delusion, and nave hi in. Therefore run and speak to that young nun.?[New York Observer. R 1531:5Jf!SO THE RUDDER. It was a prayer of George Herbert's that i he might wholly be led to resign the rudder | of his life to the sacred wdl of God, to bo moved "as Thy love shall sway." How j much fretting, how much worry "it would i spare us all if we asked our heavenly Father | that He would cause us to lean utterly, in j perfect fa.it!-!, in cheerful, unquestioning | obedience, upon His will aad wisdom j whether in life's trivial concerns or in those ! shades of darknrss from which >ve recoil in : fear! We can ask Him not hi 119 be von d His . power. Some of us know the feeling, ''In | all but this I could .say. -thy will be done,' " . hut if we wili onlv tell the story at His feet, Couring out our Le:*rts before Him, we shall e able to trust our Father, even to rejoice : in Him. through every change'"uI pathway. Not long ago a Christian visitor called j upon a poor woman who had just be?n told ; bv tli" matron of the hospital of the incu ; ble nature of her complaint. . The poor ssilj ferer tearfully declared she accepted God's will patiently, so far as !.er own pain ami I death were concerned, but she could not j bonr the thought of her motherless children. Nobody could induce her, she said, as conI cerned the children, to feel patient and re signed. It was a painful scone. The visitor j could not remonstrate with her upon her : spirit of impatience a:vl murmuring, but felt 1 as though she must "weep with her, as j she said: ' Yours is untold sorrow, beyond j my understanding even, but God knows all about it, God understands. Will you not tell Ilim iust how vou C'el; toll Him what you have told ine, all your pain, anxiety and j dread of leaving your little ones alone? E . am going now to* tell the leader of our I prayer meeting about yai: tomorrow, from j three to half-past, prayers will arise 011 your behalf. Wi'l you not "at this same time be 011 j your knees before God and tell Hiin all?" I The sufferer promised. X* ? 1 ~?U*nn A<\vnrtof nlflflfl. | uii> f i uiaica llih ? k-uu. v... ? < j ing supplications laid her case before God, i and wuat was the result? Tlia next interj view found that womm a? ealrn a* she bad ! been impatient. She had poured out her I own heart in prayers and others had prayed j for her, and she told tiie visitor: "I am just : leaving everything with God; not only j whether I live or die, but each of my little children. Everything is 3afe with Him. I feel it. I know it." Verily our God U the I same now as In past ages, praycr-heariug, : prayer-answering.?(The Quiver. I GRACIOUS AND C.KITTY. i In 1S8T I attended a great camp-meeting . in Georgia. I was running au experience I meeting one morning when I noticcd a bighearted farmer very restless on my left. I 1 said to him. ''Brother, you want to talk? i I'll stop all others and hear from you now." | lie sprang to hia feet. "Brother JarreH, I ' do want to talk. I want to tell what I never j told a living soul before. Across that altar sits my wife?she knows nothing of the secret purpose I am going to tell. I was ' converted before the war, but lost all my re' liglon in the army. I became worse than I i ever bad been. I came home, but my dear j wife was still as true ?s steel. I hated the i Church?I hated the Bible?I w^s harder than a rock. Years went by and ail the time there was a gulf between my wife and me. | I bated her religion and she seemed to love ! it more, even than she did me. No man I ever hail a better wife. J Now I come to my secret purpose. \ determined I wou'd sweep all lliat Bible nonj sense out of my house. Every time I would | try to settle it for irood I would run right up : against her pure life, and I could not get an I inch further. Again and again I failc-l. At I last I said, if I can just unsettle her I will know it is all a sham. I picked my chance. Children all out, save a baby in her lap. I said, "Wife, we have been verv happv to-.1? ix- ??.i ... i. ?,,.i V....I Reiner. V> u mni umiiv a.iu twi attu au just alike a:id wc were so happy. But it is ?o different now. You believe in that old Bible: I know it U not true. You wciieve in pravinp and serving llod: I know that is a sham. Now Jet us t row tl.it :;ll asi ie; let lis be linppy like we once were." She said not a word while I was talking. When I was <ione she leaned forward?her cvea kindling as she spoke, lil e I had ho often seen tln-m. "liii-band, 1 am very sorry 1 have not been a better wife to you. If God spares me I will do be'ter. I will go with you any where yoa want to zo. I will vork'tliese liogtr* down to stumps for you? but hear me?I will die in my tracks before I wiil yield one inch frora >uv Bible or my God!" Brethren. when sha said thit the lightning struck me?the old time conviction. She had got her grappling hook- into me and jerked me clean over on her side again. I am there today?happy or, my way to lienven. That good wite did it. I went back the next veir '.o the s.une camp-meeting. I tu'ased him. Second day I missed 1dm. The third dav 1 said: -Where is my lirotlu ;' Whiter" "Havu you not hoard? lie ?i:e.i shouting !a*t .January. :in?i l?!e?.siii;i his uiKid wife., who bail save I liiin from ruin liy her heroism."?I .V. .1. Jarrell in Ciuiiiv to Holiness. L<">ok out for rod atoclungs. It u:is boen remarked in Paris that the wear iug liy children of red stockings coincides with pustular eruptions on their legs and I'eet. The Poard of Health I employed a chemical expert to ascer- j tain whether the dyes coloring the stockings contained poisonous matter, and his report says that all < ha many specimens submitted to him derived their rod color from aniline and containing a large proportion of antimonic oxide. As children perspire freely, this matter enters into solution, and ; is thus taken iafco the pores. _ . ist,; SABBMM! S S?0L international lessor for jul*; 1-2: Lesson Text' "Christ's First Ofsci- i pies," John i., 20-421?tJoldea Text: John: 1.,. 20? Commentary. 29. "Thenexiday John' gecth, Jesus <trxn~ ing unto him." The following vecses- irnlicate that the events of the two days included in this la-won took place after the-baptism of Jesus, the reoord of which, is- fouxkl in Matt, iii., 13-17, Mark J., 941;. Luke- iii., 21. 22. The next day may, refer to. the- first day after His baptism. "Behold tho Lamb of Gcd, which taketh away thfi sins of the- world." The? Father had testified by an audible- voice iram heaven, and by the- doscent of the- Holy Spirit ia tha form of nt,dove4 that this, was His beloved Son, and.now John, points. Him out as tbe one -to whomihe came to> bear witness. The I4amb of God wouidcemind tham of tho daily burnt offeringsand of tha passover lambs which.bad be?n offered day by day and year by year in- all the past history of ths nation.(Num. xxviii.,. 3; Ex. xiL, 3>. "Thisjs.He-of whom. I. said. after ma cocneth a man who- is preferred before me, fo&He wasbefororme." This.be had said when tb.sy sent to ask.him if He- was tlie Christ or Elijah or the prophet (verses 19-&7). When a little later word was brought to John that all men.were following J.esus, he only reiterated his testimony exalting, Jesas, and said that he- was, tilled with Joy (chapter iii., 2029) that it should be so.. John did not preach himself; ho-dld not point people to himself; he could sajr with Paul, "We preach not ourselves,, but Christ. Jesus the Lord, and ourselves your servants for Jesus's sake (II Cor. iv.?5>.. 31. "And I knew Him not.** It seems most strange, that these two, whose births were foretold by Gabriel, and who were so identified in public work, should not have met as boys or men until they met at Jordan. Thi*, however, may not be here implied. It would seea* from Matt, iii., 14, that in some sense Joha knew Him even befora the spirit de" ' TT"? ao thict | seen (lea upon mm. uumuu ?. pel was written to prove that He is the Son of God (xx., 31), it may be that it was as Son of God ho knew tlim not till after the baptism. 32. l'And John bara record, saying, I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon Him." Not a3 a tongue of Are does He come to Jesus, for tbere is no purifying or consuming necessary here a3 there was in the disciples at Pentecost; but as a pure and gentie dove does He come to Him who was holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners. 23. "And I knew Him not; but! He that sent me to baptize with water, tho same said unto me." As witnesses unto Christ we must be much away from the world and go forth in the power of God, and as sent by Him to make ready a people for His Second Coming, now so near at hand. 33. "And I saw and baro record that this is the Son of God." The word "son" in Scripture does not necessarily signify inferiority or difference of nature, and sometimes not that at all, but rather likeness or sameness of nature or quality, tho closest possible resemblance. Tne Sou of God became the Son of Man that sons of men haonmc SOUS of God. If W3 haVO re ceive J Hiai we are now the children of God, but uot until we shall see Him shall we bo fully like Him, and not until we appear with Him shall it be manifest what it is to be a son of God (John i., 12; I John iil., 2^ Rom. viii., 213). 2.x '".A gain the next day after John stdod and two of his disciples.'' John continues his work quietly and faithfully. He doss not stop because Jesu3 has now beeu baptized and entered upon His public work. He received commandment from the Father to preach aud baptiz-.*, and had uot yet received word to stop. When we are wholly subject to God He will clearly show us when to go aud when to stay, when to sp;ak an l when to stop. 3f>. "And looking upou Jesus as He walked." The eyes of the three are directed to Him. John looking upoa Him for himself directs the others to look upon Him. It Is only as we see Him for ourselves that we can point others to Him, and wa can only point them to what wo ourselves ?eo in Him. 37. "Aud the two disciples heard fiim I sDeak. and they followed Jesus." See th9 t)en<=iit ?>f parsonal work; the statement in versa 20 was probably a general declaration to the multitude, but here is a private and personal statement to two individuals, aud the result is that both follow Jesus. Observe ho?v it came about, and do thou likowise. Joan knew Jesus for Himself; he spoke of ^im to these men; he was a witness unto Jesus, and the men became occupied with Jesus and followed Him. John did not tell them what they ought to do, nor did he talk of himself or his owu work, but ho spake of Jesus and pointed Him out, and that was enough. 38. "Then Jesus turned and saw them following, and saith unto them, What seek ye'/" How ouietly and orderly it all comes about, the calling of these first two disciples? What a small and unlikely beginning I Think of these two hesitatiugly aud wonderingly walking after Jesus, aud think of the millions who now run after Him. Despise not tbe day of small things. ;!D. ' 'He soith uuto them, Come and see. They came and saw whero Ho dwelt, and abode with Him that day, for it was about the tenth hour." "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out" (John vi., 37). However unworthly or however feebly they come, if any one will onlv come they will be welcomed. If John reckons time the same as in chapter xix., 14, than the tenth hour would be ten in the forenoon, so they would have a good part of the day with Jesus. 40. "One of the two which heard John speak-, ami followed him, was Andrew, Simon liter's brother." The other, wo suppose, was John himself, inasmuch as he, being the writer of this Gospel, would not be likely to mention his own name; and it is only in the latter part of the Gospel that ha speaks of himself as "That disciple whom Jesus loved" (xiii., &3; xix.,26; xx., 2; xxi., 7, 20.) As to Andrew, although he was one of the first to come to Jesus, and he first to bring another, yet we do not know much about him as an apostle. His name signifies "manly," an-1 ha shows himself an outspoken, fearless, manly man. 11. ' He first findeth his own brother Simon." It may be that h9 thought of God's question to Caiu, "Where is thy brother?" but whether or not, he did well to seek first his own brother. Tho first question for the sinner is, "Whero art though?" and when found and saved the next should be, "Where is thy brother?" (Gin. iii., 9; iv., 9.) "We have foun.l the Messiah, jviiicii is, being interpreted, the Christ." ine worn 4'Messiah'' is only found four times in ou.* English Bible; here and in Chapter iv., 25, in the New Testament, and in Dan., ix., 25, 26, in the Old Testament, but the Hebrew word is often used in the original, and is generally translated "Anointed;" sometimes with reference to Christ directly, aurl sometimes with reference to Israel or some priest or king as types of Christ. 42. "And he brought him to Jesus." The very thing for him to do, and the only taiug to do, with our friends and our enemies, our joys anl our sorrows, and a>I that concerns us. "Thou art Simon, the son of Jona; thuu shalt be called Cephas w ich is, by interpretation, a stone." Thus said Jesus as He looked upon him, beholding him as he then was, and also as he would be when a truly converted and spirit-filled man. Now, as born of th9 flesh, he is Simon, son of Joua, but when born from above he shall be Peter, or a rock, one of the J'ouudation stones of the Church of Christ, Jesus Himself being chief corner stone and top stone (Eph. ii., 1 20; Rev. xxi., 14; Zech. iv., 7.?Lesson Helper. A weddino took place the other i day in a picture gallery at Paola, Kan. j While the preai her was performing tha i | ceromoiiy the artist turned his camera j upon the happy couple and photoj graphed them just as thoy were registering their uuptial vows. jUsissoni.'ck waa proua or ni3 anapo- ' ly and delicate hands. Mo said that his fingers were 60 sensitive that ha could u ith his eyes shut lay on the exact amount of color that he wanted on a given spot if somebody placed the coinfc of the brush upon it. . i'K.-u. . ..a CURIOUS FA flfc It coBta ?33 to patent a c?pefc*d'estgn. It is said that the slot machine is over 150 years old. The ordinary watch gives 116,144, 000 ticks during the year*. At Eddy, New Mexico, a-3tutum o! salt has been struck which ;is- forty feet thick. The name Nebraska was- fifsb applied to the river. In the Indiha. language it means shallow water. A Reading (Penn.) man- baa- jvat received a letter mailed to him by his soldier brother twenty-seven years agp* An Atchison (Kan.) girl whoiiaaboat to be married has announced, that sho will pay the expenses.- oJE the- wadding tour. duuuuh is worsnipca ia; jt:an?iai various private teraplesr.the; devoteaa being chiefly Japanese, but^ many, oi them are Frenchmen and a few.Eoglishmwj. A boy of ten p.oda,girlof twelve in one of the public - schools- at Portland, Me., are subjecte-of a good, dual of curiosity, as both arp, bald ,a?. billiard balls. At North Adftms,. Mass** the- other day a couple who .were united; in marragoin church befoi& the regular service went at once into,the choir?and assisted in the singing. , The nuniber. of lijreR lost by accident and disease- in. the construction of the Panama Canal is. conjectural. Many writers agree that it is. soxðing like 20,000. A jeweler haa Invented a devise for use i% sleeping cats that promises to become-popular.. It is a ladder composed of tmbes of leather, that provide easy acsesa to. upper berths. Alaska was discovered by "Vitus BehrSngaa la to m 1741, and bccame and remained Russian territory by right of discovery until it passed to the United Statea by purchase in 1867. Oceania or Oceanica comprises all the islands and archipelagos in the Pacific ! Ocean, and is often divided into four great divisions named Malaysia, Micone3ia, Australasia and Polynesia. Mr3. Cornelius Vanderbilt, of New York City, is said to have paid $12,000 for her new team of carriage horses. They were bought in Paris and are deciirange Percherons, half bloods, and are beautifully matched. There is a curiosity near Cordele, Ga., I in the shape of a pine tree. It begins from the ground as two separate and well-developed tree3, and continues so for a distance of fourteen feet, when they join and go upward as one. Henry Wagner, an old German gardener, vras digging in his garden at Du* buquo, Iowa, when he turned up the nis:-incrusted blade of an ancient sword. Near the hilt could be made out a scroll inclosing the date 1580. The sword ia thought to be a relic of the early French explorers who first visited the valley of the Mississippi. The state bed of the last King of Po land was made of Smyrna gold braid, embroidered in turquoises, with verses from'the Koran. Its supports were of silver gilt, beautifully chafed and profusely set with enameled and jeweled medallions. It had been taken from the Turkish camp before Vienna, and tffe 9tandard of Mahomet had stood under it. Plans for the irrigation, both in upper and Jower Egypt, during the periods of Tow w|lcr injhe Nilej include the building of a jj'gh^jbarmgc"" jaoross^the river at the first"*cataract.% Great opposition has been excited against this proposition, as it involves the submersion of the beautiful island of Philoa and it3 magnificent monuments for several months each year. ? Batter iu California. Butter is made in a peculiar way in California, but it is sold in still moro ecccntric fashion. The butter-maker always turns it out in round rolls,"about a half-foot in length, supposed to weigh two pounds^ The. dealer sells it by the roll and charges for two pounds, but the roll always lacks from six to eight cunces of full weight. This thing has been going on for years to the loss of the consumer, and without profit to any one except the middleman. The latter buys butter by the pound and sells it by the ' roll, so he makes a clear profit on the short weight. When a man handles several tons of butter a day this makes a large item, for on each roll he will make | from eight to ten cents, or at least $100 on every ton. The dairyman can't preI rrnnt 4-Vlio 10 11 tKon hlltfftP in CrfM)d ?CUU VUW) (W VMV^ uaitvov wQ two-pound rolls no commission man would haDdle it. What the buttermaker proposes to do is to establish an honest mould for the rolls and then sell their butter themselves in a co-operative market. This will also run out the oleomargarine which is sold by maDy dealers as second-class butter.?tit. Lou ti i Globe-Democrat. Artificial Minerals. Attempts have been made, not without success, to form minerals. ArtiGcial ultra-marine has long been an article of commerce. Tho formation of the dia? mond is said to have been actually effected, but,' in the opinion of the inventor, the process is so difficult and I dangerous that the diamond merchant I need not feel uneasy. The ruby and the j sapphire have been largely reproduced in ; Paris, and, curiously enough, the color| iag matter in both is found to be due to one and the same?chromium?in differ ent states of conbination. Red and blue stonej, or an immediate violet form, which might be likened to the rare and beautiful oriental amethyst, have been obtained in one and the same operation, from the same lot of material. The jewels thus produced have so far all been small; large enough to form the pivots of superior watch works, but not large cuough to rank as rare and co9tly ornamental objects.?San Francisco Examiner. Bread IMatcs. A fashion that is creeping over from our English cousins is that of bread plates. These little plates, about the size of a largo saucer, are made in all designs and sizes, ia Dresdeu, Sevres, and in all the different makes of porceluiu. some very pretty ones, having the opeu border in various patterns. They are on the right hand of the large plate, and are used only for bread. In many of the regular English dinner services these plates are made to fit on the large plate, doing away with the butter plate, and used as well for the : celery, radishes and such other relishes as mar be on the table.?New Yorlc Sun. - - -j-.- - : > Beautiful Tennessee fitarls. . . ;*jj L. Smith, of this cityf J? the great peart hunter of Tennessee:,- F&r a nutn* '-0 ber of years past he has devoted most of his time during the summer months to ;\p* this pursuit, and has taken ipearls to tha. . value of thousands of dollar1) frocii tha ; <': streams of Middle Tennessee* He L? today the best-posted maa invpearl lore in - > the South. He know3- just where to look for the pearl-bearing* mussel, and ,I no matter how mum the-secretive bivalve may appear, he slips his thin blade between his shells, pries open his mouth Kj and rnakes him spit out-/ the glistening treasure that he carries-concealed upon -^5 his person. Mr. Smith returned-* the other day from Raft Shoals, on Stone River, a few miles from its confluence with the Gum- '? berland, where he made a moet success- , !j| iui two aays nam, Tuncn ? estimates -gx will return^iim something like $300. Hef brought back with him besides numer-j M ous small pearls, dva very fine ones. Oae| was a beauty weighing ten grains; on$ weighed eight grains,. two six grains and one three grains. One of the six-grainr and the three grain /pearls are purple, at present the most fashionabkfe^^ and costly variety. The- others ar^. -.33$ white. As a pearl hunter Mr. South is indoffrf - v tigable, and leaves. again this morning! ^ going this time - to Big Harpeth. Ha says he ha*. found many pearls larg^ enough to make him rich had they beeti jjra the proper- shape. The largest pearl* are generally freaks and are of irregularform, so that they are worthless, becaus^ y-r when th?. surface is rough or not sym-? metrical it cannot bo- polished, as ii . ruins lie pearl to, put the tool of tha jewelet upon it. Mr. Smith says hi expects, yet to find the symmetrical bio pearl that will make- him at once botlj. rich and famous. ^Ncuhville American. ! T - IfrinHtjul iftiir NiiiatnAn Tmw. Touched bj the frost of seventy yearai V; Id Jacob Staup, of Uniontown, Penn. "<$8 finds himself at last out from under thi v ^ shadow of a crime which has hauntec him for aineteen years. He wa9 oalj the other day acquitted, after standing i trial for the third time, on a charge ol [ murder. Twice he had been convicted, and the singular fcaturo of the case u that tho first of these trials occurred nine- -Jj| teen and the second eighteen years ago, r; After the second trial he escaped from i?||| jail, and up to last March, when he wai ''*2 finally apprehended, he remained a fugi- TV;|wa tive from justice. An old neighbor of Staup in Fayetta County wa3 the victim of the murderj j^ There had been a feud between the fami-i lies, and this fact helped to convictiStaup. Since the twice condemned nianf 7 ? escaped, eighteen years ago, however, hig'-^gi son has died, and a deathbed confcasio?y';^3 of the latter, in which he admitted hiotf self to have been the murderer, was ona riSa i of the features of the third trial, whicl* 2 has led to the old man's acquittal. j* % 1 The case is one probably without paral-* ' lei. Had Staup had been taken to th? scaffold on his first condemnation ana /&, the 3on's lips remained sealed bg wpqUI ffijg have died an innocent man and the la^ would Lave committed unwitting murder. That fortunate escape from bohind the bars and the successful maintenancc of liberty through long years, J?? has enabled the old. man at last to stand.. " free and untrammeled. iPerliapSPyS^ even probably, his years on eartL will not | be many more, but at least they will not ;?| go out under the sorrow and digrace ofc.-/?Je a terrible accusation and condemnation., ?New York World. ' r ^fi Obscure Poisonous AgentJ. ' Three recent cases of poisoning bf some mysterious agent have called pub-? 1 lie attention tu a subtle and most viru-';-. v|$ lenyprm of poison but recently discov- j ered byttie medicai profession. <lPfco- ' -$ maine" is the name given to the poiaon*;ous'agent, which, is even at'present but' - ^ little Known. Ptomaines, according accepted theory, are alkaloids generated" ; during decay, and closely resemble the Tegetable alkaloids, but owe their origii* '.$? to the putrefaction of animal matter, While s'ome ptomaines are very poison-; ous, others are admirable antidotes to known poisons. They are usually produced in substances which, after brief exposure, have been sbut away irom ens air, a3 in all kinds of canned goods, or,. 'gj more properly, tinned foods; iu sausages* yM the skins of which keep the air out; ub . v* the vicera, and in buried corpses. Ther? is no subject in toxicology, or the sci- ?"*j ence of poisons and poisoning, which i* >4; just now of so much interest to professional men. It has been scarcely tea years since the attention of toxicologic ^ was attracted to ptomaines. Yet the researches of Selmi, who discovered and named ptomaines, throw a curious light ^ upon the obscurest pages of the history i of poisoning, those which relate to the mysterious and fascinating exploits of th? Italian poisoners of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It is now believed, indeed, that the ptomaines figured pjtontlv in their noxious nreDarations, be cause iu Italy, according to tradition, the famous aud ceadly acquetta di Perugia was a secrct compound, prepared bj rubbing white arscnic into the flesh of a pig and collecting the liquid which dropped .from the flesh.?Picayune. Europe's Greatest Restaurant. "The Chaumicre," Moscow, Rusria* is the most luxurious and elegantly appointed restaurant in Europe. The larg? dining-hall is a huge winter garden, with feathery and blooming mimosa as a background for the exquisitely served tablc9. In the middle of this unique restauranti garden is a great marble fountain where| in trout and other dclicitely flavored / mpmhnra nt the firmv tribe swim in doeo. clear water. Whcu a guest orders a fish for his dinner, he is forthwith conducted by the head-butler to this novel aquarium and is requested to select the fish most likely to tempt his fancy. A long-handled silk net is then given" to him, and he can? if he pleases, catch his iish with sportsm:ui-like zest and dexterity, a icat which materially adds to his eujoyment and general appreciation of the dinner he is about to cat. Russians, who are very fond of flowers, do uot relish a repast when the table is not one mass of fragrant blossoms, and nowhere else ia Europe does one see such gorgeous table j decorations as in St. Petersburg or MosI cow. Thousands of rub!;*? are oftcu spent j for rare onhiJsto aiiora the board of j some wealthy boyarJ, and at the dinner i given some time ago by Prince Narishj kine to the diplomatic corps at St. Petersburg, the flowers ia the diuingI aall cost over $18.00l>.?Argonaut. A 83,000,000 hotel about to be built j in New York City will have 600 liviog. rconi3 and 2t:5 bathrooms. -i