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, [m. DR. TALMAGE. * THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNi i??v ccpunv jy/lX -Subject: 4tThe Corncrib of Egypt." I _____ ! TkxP: ''Fe shall not see my face, except yourbiVtherbe with you."?Genesis, xliii., 3. This summer, having crossed eighteen of the United States. North, South, East and West, I have to report the mightiest harvests that this country or any other country ever reaped. If the grain gamblers do not somehow vereck these har vests,we are atom to emer upuu me auuest scene of prosoerity tbat America has ever witnessed. But while this is so in our own country, on the other side of the Atlantic there are nations threatened with famine, and the most dismal cry that is ev?r heard will I fear be uttered, the cry for bread. J pray God that the contrast between onr prosperity and their want may not be as sharp as in the lands referred to by my toxt. There was nothing to eat. Plenty of corn in Egypt, but ghastly famine in Canaan. The "cattle moaning in the stall. Men, women and children awfully white with hunger. Not the failing of on? crop for one summer, but the failing of all the crops for seven years. A nation dying for lack of that which is so common on your j table, and so little appreciated; the product of harvest field, and grist-mill, and oven; th? price of sweat, and anxiety, and struggle? Bread! Jacob the father has the last Teport from the flour-bin, and he finds that everything is out; and he says to his sons: "Boys, hook up the wagons aud start for Egyyt, and get us something to eat." The tact was, there was a great corn crib in Egypt. The people of Egypt have been largely taxed in all ages, at the present time paying between seventy and eighty per cent, of their products to the government. No wonder in that time rhev had a large corn crib, and it was full. To that crib they came from the regions round about?those who were ?mm# nnvinc for corn in monev: I when the money was exhausted, paying for the corn in sheep and cattle, and horses and camels; and when they were exhausted,then selling their own bodies and their families into slavery. The morning for starting out on the crusade (or bread had arrived. Jacob gets his family up very early. But before the elder sons start they say something that makes him tremble with emotion from head to foot, and burst into tears. The fact was, that these elder sons had once before been in E^ypt to get corn, and they had been treated somewhat roughly, the lord of the corn-crtf) supplying them with corn, but saying a; the close of the interview; "Now, you need not come back here for any more corn unless you bring something better tban money?even your younger brother Benjamin.*' Ah! Benjamin?that verv name was sties'estiva of all tenderness. The u. other had died at the birth of thr t sod ?a spirit coming and another spirit going ?and the very thought of parting witb. Benjamin must have been a heart-break. The keeper 01 this corn-crib, nevertheless, says to these older sons: "There is no need of yvu? coming here anymore for corn un'ass you bring Benjamin, your father's darling." Now Jacob and his family very much needed bread; but what a struggle it would be to give up this son. The Orientals are very demonstrative in their grief, and I hear the outwailing of the father as tueso older ones keep reiterating in his ears the announcement of the Egyptian lord, 4-Ye shall not see my fsce unless your brother be with you." "Why did you tell them you had a brother?' said the old man. complaining and chiding them. "Why, father," tney said, "he asked us all about our family, and we had no idea he would make any such demand upon us as he has made." "No use of asking me," said the father. "I cannot I will not. civ? up Benjamin." The fact was that the old man had lost children; and when there has been bereavement in a household, and a child takeD, it makes the other children in the household more precious. So the day for departure adjourned, and adjourned, and adjourned. Still the horrors of the famine increased, and louder moaned the cattle, and wider open cracked the earth, and more pallid became the cheeks, until Jacob, in aospair, cried out to his sons, "Take Benjamin and be off." The older Sons tried to cheer up their father They said: "R'e have strong arms and a stout heart, and no harm will come to Benjamin. "We'll see that he gets back again." "Farewell f' said the young man to the father, in a tone of assumed good cheer. '"F-a-r-ew-e-l-lP1 said the old man;'for that-word has more quavers in it when pronounced by the aged than by the young. Well, the bread party?the bread embassy -?drives up in front of the corn-crib of Ecrypt. These corn-cribs are filled with wheat, and barley, and corn in the husk, for these who have traveled in Canaan and Egypt know that there is corn there corresponding with our Indian maize. Huzza! the journey is ended. The lord of the corn-crib, who is also the prime minister, conies down to these arrived travelers, and says: "Dine with me to-day. How is your father? Is this Benjamin, the younger brother whose presence I demanded?' The travelers are introduced into the palace. They are worn and bedusted of the way; and servants come in with a basin of water in one hand and a towel in the other, and kneel down before these newly-arrived travelers, washing off AL- A. - a ~ I mt- U _ _ J vne Qust ol ine way. iue uuwjuers, auu ; poulterers, and caterers of the prime minister prepare the repast. The guests are seated iu small groups, two or three at a table, the food on a tray; all the luxuries from imperial gardens, and orchard*, and acquariuihs, and aviaries are brought there, and are filling chalice and platter. Now is the time for tois prime minister, if he baa a grudge against Benjamin, to show it. Will ne kill him, now that he has him in his hinds? Oh, nol This lord of the corncrib is ssated at his own table, and he looks | over to the table of his guests; and he senda j a portion to each of them, but sends a ; larger portion to Benjamin, or as . the Bible quaintly puts it: "Benja- j minN mess was Ave times as muea as any > of theirs." Be quick and send word back j ' with th? swiftest camel to Canaan to old ! Jacob, that "Benjamin is well. all is well, i he is faring sumptuously ; the Egyptian lord [ did not mean murder Mid death ; but he meant deliverance and life when he an- I noucced to us on that dav : ' Ye sTiall not see t my fact* unless your brother be with you.'" Well, iny friends, this world is faminestruck of sin. It does not yield a single crop of solid satisfaction. It is dying. It is hunger-bitten. The fact that it does not, cannot, feed a man's heart was well illustrated in tha life of the English corn- | ediaii. All Wie world honored him?lid everything for him that the world could 1 do. He was applauded in England and applauded in the Unfted States. He roused up nations into laughter. He had no equal. And, yet although many people supposed him entirely happy, and that 1 this world was completely satiating bis 1 soul, he sits down and writes: "I never ' in my life put on a new hat that it did not i rain and ruin it. I never went out in a I shabby coat beca use it was raining and 1 thought all who had the choice would keep 1 in doors, that the sun did not burst forth , in its strength and bring out with it all the , butterflies of fashion whom I knew and j who knew me. I never consented to ac- , cept a part I hated, out of kindness to an- | other, that I did not get hissed bv the j public and cut by the writer. I could not j take a drive for a few minutes with Terry without being overturned and having my elbow-bone broken, though my friend got , off unharmed. I could not make a cove- j nant with Arnold, which I thought was to . make my fortune without making his in- y ftead, than in an incredible space of tim*1? ^ I think thirteen months?I earned for him , twenty thousand pounds, end for myself J one. I am persuaded that if I were t> sat up j as a beggar, everyone In my neigtinoraooa : would leave off eating bread." That was the lament of the world's comedian and 5 joker. All unhappy. The world did every- 1 thinsj for Lord Byron that it coul l do. and 1 yet in his last moment he asks a friend to c come and sit down by him and read, as most ' appropriate to his case the story of "The Bleeding Heart." Torrigiano, the sculptor 1 executed, after months of care and carving, j "Madonna and the Child." The royal family came in and admired it. EverboJy < that looked at it was in ecstasy; but ono 1 day, after all that toil and all that admira- 1 tion, because he did not get as much compensation for his work as he had ex- ' pected, he took a mallet and dashed the 1 exquisite sculpture into atoms. The world j b poor compensation, poor satisfaction, poor solace. Famine, famine in all the earth; not for seven years, but for six thousand. But, blessed be God there is a great corn-crib. ' The Lord built it. It is a large place. Ax angel once measured it, and as far as I car calculate it in our phrase, that corn-crib ii fifteen huudred miles long and fifteen hundred broad and fifteen hundrea high; and it is full, Food for all nations. "Ohl" say the people, ?' - *- ?anrat. fKliJ Q11TV "W0 Will bUU t i an uj uuu VM~ v.r ply for our soul." But stop a moment; foi irom the keeper of that corn-crib there comes bis word, saying: "You shall nol see my face except your brother be with you." In other words, there is no suci thing as getting from heaven pardon and comfort and eternal life unless we bring with us our Divine Brother, the Lore Jesus Christ. Coming without Hun, w< shall fall before we reach the corn-crib,and oar bodies shall be a portion for the jackals of the wilderness; but coming with the Divine Jesus, all the granaries of heaven will swine open before our sou!, and abundance BhallDe given us. Wa shall be invited tc Bit in the palace of the King and at the table; and while the Lord ol heaven is apportioning from His own table to other tables He will not forget uaj and then and there it will be found that our Ben jamin's mess is larger than all the others, lot so it ought to be. " Worthy is the Laml that was slain, to receive blessing,and riches and honor, and glory, and power." I want to make three points. Everj frank and common-sense man will ac knowledge himself to be a sinner. Wnat are you going to do with your sins? Hav< them pardoned, you say. How? Througl the mercy of God. What do you mean by the mercy of God? Is it the letting dowi ofabarfor the admission of all, without - " j : 1 T respect to character? rsa not ueceiveu. j see a soul coming uo to the gate of mercy and knocking at t&e corncnb of heavenlj supply; and a voice from within says; "Are you alone?" The sinner replies "All alone." The voice from within Bays "You shall not see My pardoning face un less your Divine Brother, the Lord Jesus be with you." Oh, that is the point a' which so many are discomfited. There i no mercy from God excepi through JedUi Christ. Coming with Him, we are accepted Coming without Him, we are rejacted Peter put it right in his great sermon be fore t&e high priests, when he thunderec forth: "Neither Is there salvation in an] other. There is no other name given undei heaven among men whereby we may bi saved." Oh, anxious sinner 1 Oh, dyinj sinner I Oh, lost sinner! all you have go to do is to take this Divine Benjamin along with yon. Side by side, coming to thi gate, all the store-houses of heaven wil swing open before your anxious soul. An I right in calling Jesus Benjamin? Oh, yes Rachel lived only lone enoueh to eivi a name to that child, and with a dyini kiss she called hirn Benoni. Afterward Jacob ohanred his name, and he calle< him Benjamir* The meaning of the nam* she gave was "Son of my Pain." Thi meaning of the name the father gave wa; "Son of m|r Right Hand." And was noi Christ the Son of Pain? All the sorrow of Rachel in that hour, when she gave he: child over into the hands of strangers, wa nothing compared with the struggle o God when He gave up His only Son. Thi omnipotent lioa in a oirm inroe i duu wn not Christ appropriately called "Son of th( Right Hand?" Did not Stephen look int< heaven and se9 Him standing at the righi hand of God? And does not not Paul spent of Him as standing at the right band of Goc making intercession for us? O JBenjaminJesusI Son of pang! Son of victory The deepest emotions of our souls ought to be stirred at the sound o that nomenclature. In your prayers plenr His tears, His sufferings, His sorrcfcvo anc His death. If you refuse to do it, all th< corn-cribs and the palaces of heaven will bj bolted and barred against your soul, and t voice from the throne shall stun you witt the announcement: "You shall not see Mj tace, excapt your Brother be with you." My test also suggests the reason why 93 many people do not get any real comfort. You meet ten people; ninevf tham are in need of some kind of condolence. There is something in thsir health, or iirth&ir state, or in their domestic condition that demand* sympathy. And yet the most of the world's sympathy amounts to absolutely noth ing. People go to the wrong crib, o: they go in the wrong way. When ta< plague was in Rome a great many year' ago, there were eighty man who chanteJ themselves to ueaia v.-uu uia uuiams u. Gregory the Great?literally chanted themselves to death, and yet it did not stop the plague. And ail the music of this wori i cannot halt tbe plague of the huma:i heart. I come to some one whose ailment are chronic, and I say: "In heaven you wil never be sick." That does not give yr.; much comfort. What you want is a sootl: ing power for your present distress. Los! children, have you? I come to you and t*! you that in ten years perhaps you w;l meet these loved ones before tho thron* of God. But there is but little condolenc< in that. One day is a year withoul them, and ten years is a small eternity What you want is a sympathy now?presenl help. 1 come to those of you who have lost dear friends, and say: "Try to forget them. Do not keep the departed always in youi mind." How can you forget them when every figure in the carpet, and every book, and every picture, and every room call: out their name? Suppose I come to yoi and say by way of condolence: "God is wise. "unr you say, mat- gives mo m help." Suppose I come to you and say "God, from all eternity, has arranged this trouble." "Ah!" you say: "that does m? no good." Then 1 say: "With the swifl feet of prayer go direct to the corn crib for a heavenly supply." You go. You say: "Lord, help me; Lord, comfort me.' But no help yet. No comfort yet. It is aL dark. What is the matter ? I have found. You ought to go to God and say : 44 Here, 0 Lord, are the wounds of my soul, and 1 bring with me the wounded Jesus. Let His wouncHgoy for my wounds. His bereavements for mv bereavements. His loneliness for my loneliness. His heart-break for my heart-break. O God! for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ?the God, the Man, the Benjamin, the Brother?deliver my agonized soul. 0 Jesus of the weary foot, ease myj fatigue. 0 Jesus of the aching head, liea my aching head. 0 Jesus of the Bethany^, sisters, roll away the stone frcm the doo of our grave." That is the kind of praye that brings help; and yet how many of you are getting no help at all for the reason that there is in your soul, perhaps, a secret trouble. You may never have mentioned it to a single human ear, or you may have mentioned it to some one who is now gone away, end that great sorrow is still in yoursoui. Aiier wasnmcion irving was (lead, they found a little box that contained a braid of hair and a miniature, and the name of Matilda Hoffman and a memorandum of her death, and the remark something like this: "The world after that was a blank to me. I went into the country, but found no peace in solitude. I tried to go into society, but I Inund no peacs in society. There has been a horror hanging over me by night and by day, and I am afraid to be alone." How many uuuttered troubles! No human ear has ever heard the sorrow. Oh, troubled soul, I want to tell you that there is one salve that can cure the wounds of the heart, and that is the salve made out of the tears of a sympathetic Jesus. And yet some of you will not take this solace; an-1 you try chloral, and you try raorpmne, and you try strong drink, and you try change of scene, and you try new business associations, end anything and everything rather than take the Divine companionship and sympathy suggested by the words of my text when it says, "You shall notseeMv race again unless your Brother be witfx pou." Oh, that you might understand something of the height, and depth, and length, and breadth, and immensity, and infinity of God's eternal consolations. I go further, and find in my subject a hint is to the way heaven opens to the departing spirit. We are told that heaven has rwelve gates, and some people infer from ;hat fact that all the people will go in without reference to their pa?t life; but vhat is the use of having a gate that i3 not sometimes to be shut? The swinging of a jate implies that our entrance into heaven s conditional. It is not a monetary condi* ion. If we come to the d<*or of an exquisite concert, we are not surprised that we nust pay a tee, for we know tnat fine earthly ausic is expensive; but all the oratorios )f heaven cost nothing. Heaven pays lothine for its music. It is all free. There is nothing to be paid at that door for entrance; but the condition of getting into heaven is our bringiug: our Divine Benjamin along with us. Do you notice how jf ten dying people call upon Jesus? It is the usual prayer offered?the prayer offered more than all the other prayers put toeether ?"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Ono of Dur congregation, when asked in the closing moments of his life, "Do you know us?" said: "Ob, yes, I know vou. God bless you. &ood-bye. Lord Jesus, receive my spiritand he was gone. Oh. yes, in the closing moments of our life we must have a Christ to call upon. If Jacob's i sods had gone toward Egypt, and had gooa l with the very finest equlpagft, and had sot > taken Ben jam :n along with tham, and to I the question they should hare been obliged . to answer: "Sir. we didn't brine him, aa i father could not lot him go; wo didn't want to be bothered with him," a voice from " within would hare said: "Go away from us. You shall not have any of this supply. I You shall not see my face because your i brother is not with you." And if we come i ! up toward the door of heaven at lost, though I we come irom all luxuriance and brilliancy ; of surroundings, aud knock for admittance, L and it is found that Christ is not with > us, the police of heaven will boat us back 1 from the bread-house, eayme: "Depart, i I never knew you." If Jacob's sons, coming toward K-Tpt, had lost everyl thing oa the way; if they had expended ' their last shekel; if they had come up ut' terly exhausted to the corn-cribs of Egypt, f and it had been found fha*. Benjamin was with them, all the storehouses would have swung open before thjm. And so, though 1 by fatal casualty we iacy bo ushered into | the eternal world; though we may be weak and exhausted by protracted sick} ness?if, in that last moment, we can only > just stagger, and faini, and fall into the gate of heaven?it seems that ill the corncribs of heaven will op.n for our need and all the palaces will oprn for our recep5 tion; and the Lord ot th_t place, seated at i His table, and all the angels of God seated 1 at their table, and the martyrs seated al ' their table, and all our glorified kindrec I seated at our table, the King shall pass e P portion from His table to our* and th**i while we think of th-5 fact that it was Jesus who started us on the road, and and Jesus'. ho kept us e. the way, and : Jesus who at last gained admittance for oui : soul, we shall be glad if He has seen of th< : travail of His soul and.been satisfied, end " not be at all jealous it it bs found that oui Divine Benjamin's m?OT 3 five tunes largei ' than all the rest. Hall I anointed of the 3 Lord. Thou art worthy. 3 My friends, you see it i.. either Christ oi I _ - TO J.\ iamiue. n uutrio ?*ao ?/ >? uuu^ucu spread, and to one of t';em only you mighl * go, you might stand anthink for a good while as to which invitation you had better accept; but here it i3 fating or starvation. If it were a choice between oratorios, yoi .night say: "I prefer the 'Creation,'" oi "I prefer the 'Messiah.' " Bat here ii> is a choice between eternal harmony and everlasting discord.. Oh. will you live or die Will you start for the Egyptian corn-crib, or will you perish amid the empty barns oi the Canaanitlsh famine? "Ye sh( 11 no see My face, except your Brother bo with you." ? . v - The Sacred Bo-tree of Ceylon. The sacred Bo-tree of Ceylon is t branch of the original tree under whict Buddha was born. This branch, whict is iow believed to be the oldest historl c^i tree in the world, was brought tc Ceylon by the sister of Mahinda, the 3 great Buddhist teacher. It -lis planted j where it now stands (near the Dagaba in 6 the city of Anuradha-pura),288 years bei fore Christ. This is the tree upon which | Whittier founded his beautiful poem, "l "The Cypress Tree of Ceylon." Ibi j Batuta, the Mussulman writer and the J traveler of the Fourteenth Century, has I the following to say concerning this re3 markable vegetable relia: "It is held sas cred by every true BudShist; its leaves J fall only at certain intervals; the person r fortunate enough to find and eat one of these leaves is restored at once to youth and vigor." Sir Emerson Tennant, who wrote on i Buddhist relics of Ceylon about the year I860, has this to say of it#; "The Bo-tree of Anuradha-pura is ic . all probability the oldest historical tree " in the world. It was planted in the third ; century befoie Christ, and is now about [ 2200 years old. Ages varying from one to four thousand years have been assigned to the Baobab of Senegal, the - "P.,nnl rrrN^tin A f Tottnnnifl HMrfrtn | XJUL/UiJ ptuo ui xaouiautctf vuu iyia^vui tree of Orotava; the Sequoia of California and the chestnut at the foot of Mount iEtna. But all these estimates are matten of conjecture, and such calculations, : however ingenious, must be purely infer ential, whereas the age of the sacred Botree is a matter of record. Its conservancy has been an object </f solicitude to sue' 1 cessive dynasties, and the story of its ; vicissitudes has been preserved in a series of continuous chronicles, among the most authentic which have been handed down to mankind. Compared with it, the Oak of Ellerlie is but a sapling; the i Conqeror's oak in Windsor Forest barely 1 numbers half its years. The yew trees of Fountain Abbey are 1200 years old; the olive trees in the Garden of Geth1 semane were full grown when the Sara; cens were expelled from Jerusalem; the Cypress of Senna, Lombardy, was a tree } in the time of Julius Ca;sar; yet the Bo tree is older than the oldest of these by a century, and would almost seem to verify the prophecy pronounced when it was ! planted, i. e., that it would "flourish and be green forever."?St. Louia Rermblic. I" \Tliat a Volcano Can llo. A volcano can do terrible work when thoroughly aroused. In 1833 Cotapaxi threw its flrey rockets 3000 feet above the crater, while in 1757 the blazing mass, struggling for an outlet, roared so that its awful voice was heard for a distance of over 600 miles. In 1797 the crater of Tunguragua. one of the great peaks of the Andes, flung out torrents of mud and lava, which dammed up the river and opened new lakes, and made a deposit 600~ feet deep and twenty miles long in a valley that was over 1000 feet wide. The stream from Vesuvius,which, in 1737,passed through Terre del Greco, contained 33,000,000 cubic feet of solid matter. In 1793, when Tcrre del Greco wa3 destroyed for a second time, the mass ot lava amounted to 45,000,000 cubic feet. In 1700 /Etna poured out a flood of melted stone wb?ch covered eighty-four square miles pf surface with boiling lava from ten to forty feet deep. On this occasion the sand and scoria formed a mountain (Mount Rosini) near Nicholosa, a cone two miles in circumference and over 4000 feet high. The 6treara thrown out by /Etna in 1810 was in motion at the average rate of a yard a day for nine months after the eruption. In the eruption of Vesuvius, A. D. 79, the scoria and ashes vomited forth far exceeded the entire bulk of the mountain,while in 1660 J2tna disgorged over twenty times its own mass. Vesuvius has sent its ashes into Syria, Egypt and Turkey. It hurled stones 800 pounds in weight to Pompeii, a distance of six miles, during the eruption of 79, A. D. Cotopaxi has projected a block of stone containing 100 cubic yards a distance of nine miles, and shot out a solid stream to a height of over 6000 feet on more than one occasion. In 1815 a volcanic eruption in Java covered 300 square miles with a6hcs and lava, and out of a population of 15,000 only twenty escaped with their lives. During the terrible earthquake of 1883 not less than twenty large and small Javanese volcanos were in eruption at the same time; fifty square miles of land and two villages entirely disappeared, and a section of mountain chain, sixty-five miles- in -length and twenty in breadth, was wholly engulfed and a lake left in its stead.? J St. Louit Republic. __ ' mn if rv n r\ i IT I> n IMfMAJNUii. INSANITY CT FRANCE. A recent convention of French pbysfdans reported that insaity from alcoholic use is more prevalent in that country than elsewhere. In the last seventeen years insanity has increased thirty per cent., and almost entirely in tin branches of alcoholic insanity and of general paralysis. Very little increase is noticed in mania, melancholia and chronic delirium, and therefore alcohol and overwork are responsible for most of the 1x11 crease. The proportion of women among these increases is about one-fifth. The use of alcoholic liquors by the French . people, taken as a whole, is not much greater than in other countries; but their nervous, highstrung natures cannot stand the effect so well as the stolid Britisher or phlegmatic Germans. Americans in their peculiar nervous temperaments and nervous life, re' semble the French more than either the ' English or the Germans, and their constitutions are more susceptible to the' poison of the alcohol. This has everything to do in ' producing insanity from this cause. i CHIEF OK BRITISH TEMPERANCE WORKERS. Lady Henry Somerset, the President of the ' British Woman's Temperance Association, j is to attend the National TemperL ance Convention in Boston in Nov! ember. Ladv Henry Somerset is I Margaret Bright Lucas's successor in the i office she holds. She is the eldest daughter 1 of Earl Soiners of Eastnor Castle, near ' which is tbe quaint old town of Leidbury, I where John B. Gough spoke for temperance thirty years ago. and wife of Lord Henry Somerset, second son of the Duke of Bsd) ford. Eastnor Castle is beautiful in situal tion, historic in its surroundings and set on ' a pinnacle in the hearts of the London poor, ' for into it and its surrounding cottages are s received every summer scores and hundreds of waifs from the slums of Soho. Recently ' Lady Henry Somerset has become interested i in the work of the Salvation Army, and on : the 7th of August, she laid the foundation 1 stone of the new Salvation Array citadel, situated at Pagegreen, Tottenham, in the presence of a large concourse oi spectators, i The buildlnc, when completed, will be cap able of holding about one thousand persons, i Her ladyship subsequently addressed a large Salvationist meeting in the Forster Hall and ? met with a good reception. ? ? DRUiS^aN doctors. The Legislature of Georgia has passed a bill disqualifying intemperate physicians from practice. A method o? indictment has been frame 1, and upon conviction the accused becomes subject to a haavy fine if he attempts to practice again. Asa protective measure the wisdom of such a law is mani1 fest. Patifnts by families worship "the l doctor" with blind idolatry. They prefer i him drunk to any other sober. It is a patricrchal act that steps in to jrrotect such people Irom their own superstitic n. itistne ' nigh est scientific timperance ground yet ! taken by th<* law. We believe it will be widely copied in othtr States, whenever such a bill is offered. With this legal encouragement, the common sense of the people will soon make total abstinence the path to proi fessional glory for Esculapius. There will get abroad a conundrum somethinglike this; If abstinence from drink is essential to the 1 steadiness of band necessary to couple cars, ! "down brakes," or tend a telegraph plant; 5 to the clear brain requisite for transmitting messages, or taking fares on a street car, how much can a man drink and have head and hand at tbeir best to set a bone or write j a prescription? Enlightened society will not "give it up." but will give up the tippling doctor.?Union Signal. I THE EFFECT OF DRnfK ON WORKIN'QMEJT. The firm of Samuel C. Tatum & Co., who have a large foundry and machine shops in Cincinnati, 0., and who are very widely known all over that State, say. "A drinking man will turn out ten tc i twenty per cent, less work than a non ] drinker, and in addition it is apt to be defective and require overhauling. This is especially true of heavy beer drinkers. A workingm^n may ta nper with whisky to a very considerable exl?nt and still be capable of a bright idea or soggestion; but not so with beer-drinker?; the} become heavy, sodden, lack ambition and stldom vary the mode of their work. When one workman drinks too much it effects th<3 work of others, on tfea principal that a "little leaven leavens the whole lump." The workmen of a shop are parts of a great machine, and the inability of a part to perform its functions will derange the whole' The amount of this derangement will be in exact proportion to the uumber of parts affected. The employer pays for what ne gets. If drink decreases a man's output ten to twenty per cent, he will receive that much less, or the employer will retire from 1 business, unless he can command sufficient I sober help to make up the shortage of the j drinkers. Arbitration of labor difficulties would be an exceedingly easy matter, and long strikes would be unheard of, if saloons were closed. All the trouble we ever had with our hands could be traced directly to saloon influence." The testimony of many others is exactly inline with the above, 1jhat the habit of j steaay annKing impairs tne quality or worK| mansbip wherever skilled handiwork is inj volved, is too patent to question. Thetrem' J bling hands of a habitual drinker cannot have I that firm, strong, yet light and sure touch : which is a sine qua non for first-class work, i The befuddled brain loses its power of accurate judgment; the unsteady eye does not remain the safe, sure guide it can become by training, when in its normal condition. Not ! only is the quality of the work impaired, but its quantity is decreased. If the working| man is paid by the piec;. or the quantity, this does not directly act unfavorably on the employer's pocket; but it does indirectly, by requiring more men to do a given amount of work within a certain time. If he works by the day be is an expensive luxury, and will be certain of discharge on some pretext. Another point made by Messrs. Tatnm & (Jo., which is so true and so important that it should meet with attention from every labor union or other association of workingmen, is that a a drinking man has a generally bad effect on the whole establishment in which he is employed. As the above letter truly says, "'workmen are but the parts of one great machine, and the inability of any part to discharge its functions accurately and properly deranges the whole."?Sacred nvan. nevicw. temperance news and notes. Fashionable men in Paris and London are now using electricity as a cure for excessive tippling. The French peasant is said to be chancing, for the worse. He is losing both his thrift and sobriety. He has taken to driuk like the inhabitants of tin city slums, and his thirst is for brandy. A successful competitor for the prize in a foot-race made this graceful temperanee speech in accepting it: "Gentlemen, I have won this cup by the use of my legs; I trust that I may never lose the use of my legs by the use of this cup." Cardinal Manning says that the chief bar to the working of the Holy Spirit of God in the souk of men and women is intoxicating drink. Though I have known men and women destroyed for all manner ot reasons, yet I know no cause that effects them with such universality of steady power as this curse of drink. A Congo native, who has been taught to read and write, has just sent a letter, his first to the Archbishop of Canterbury. It reads as follows: "Great and good ettief ot the tribe of Christ, greeting: The humblest of your servants kisses tne hem of your garments and begs you to send to his fellowservants more gospel and less rum. In the bonds of Christ. Ugalia." The Washington Post, commenting upon the effect of the prohibition of the liquor traffic within one mile of the Soldiers' Home, says "Real estate has ta'cen a boom everywhere within the prohibition zone." It adds that "the abolition of the liquor traffic throughout all that section of the city made reai estate investors eager to get hold of property there," anil that "there is no other pare of the city or district where an absolute absence of the'iiquor business is assured." In Jacksonville Fla., there j a woman who claims to have swallowed twenty-five pills a week for the last sixteen years. This looks like an attempt to boom Jacksonville as a health resort. It is said that the Prince of Wales recently complained that his royal mother did not know enough to come in out of the reign. But she knows enough to keep him_out of it. *yIEELI6I0USJEADING. [ RECONCILIATION: Repentant, weak and weary, Christ, thia night I kneel beneath Thy cross. Ot I would 1BIU Be spotleas in Thy sight?as free from stain And guile as angels are in realms of light; Thou knowrst that I struggle to do right; Thou knowest that I yearn to be again Thy loving child; but sick and faint with pain, Sin conquers in the fierce, unequal fight! All this Thou kuowesrt, Christ! and now I pray For courage to be steadfast in the strife; For strength to bear the burdens of my life; For guidance as I walk the narrow way; 0 listen to the prayer of Thy lost chi'd. My Father, that we may be'reconciled! ?[Henry Coyle, in'Boston Journal. DO JfOT EE A SLAVE. "Why wi'l you keep caring for what tbe world say.?? Try, oh try, to "be no longer a slave to it! You can have but little idea of the comfort of freedom from it?it is bliss! All this raring for what people will say is from pride. Hoist your flag and abide by it. In an indefinite short space of time all secrets will be divulged. Therefore, if you are misjudged, why trouble to put yourself right? You have no idea what a great deal of trouble it will save you. Roll your burden on Him, and He will make straight your mistakes. He will set you right with those with whom you have set yourself wrong. Here am I, a" lump of ciay ; Thou art the potter. Mould me as Thou in Thy wisdom wilt. Never mind my cries. Cut my life off?so be it; prolong it?so be it. Just as Thou wilt, but I rely on Thy unchanging ] guidance during the trial. Oh* the comfort that comes from this!?[Gen. Gordon. HOW THE nOLY SriItIT GUIDES C9. Sometimes by direct, special communications. They may or may not be in answer to specific prayers. They may be novel in form, or they merely may take the shape of endorsements of purposes already partly formed. They are likely to be maiie when emergencies occur for "which previous experience never has prepared ue, as when the early disciples were first brought before magistrates or governors to be questioned concerning the faith; or when duty involves some action or course of conduct unlikely to be recognized as obligatory without a particular revelation to that effect, a3 when Philip was bidden to accost the Ethiopian eunuch; or when we suddenly find ourselves obliged to make important decisions without sufficient time for reflection, when we cannot feel certain that it is safe to act according to the principles which we know to be trustworthy guides. It is easy to be misled in regard to such special communications, and to suppose that we receive them, when we are mistaken about the (act. Yet that they are made to us sometimes, is beyond reasonable denial. Ordinarily, however, the Holy Spirit's guidance assumes another form. Usually it i is assistance in me eniigmennipni ana exercise of our own judgments in regard to wbat our duty is. If this seem only a commonplace sort of aid, it should be'remembered that our careers are made up, for the most part, of what we term commonplace occurrences and actions, and that we are expected to illustrate our loyalty to God in regard to them as readily and as fully as in the cases of our more unusual experiences. This kind of spiritual guidance generally is all which we neciJL Special and unique aid wgujd be superfluous. It even might disturb ami coIT( fuse us. The former sort of aid is safer for , us. It involves less danger of being mis. ' understood. It is he who supposes himself I to hold exceptional relations with the Holy , Spirit who is in chief danger of becoming , ' dogmatic and even fanatical. Belief in one's possession of a spccial revelation often has been the cause of bitter bigotry and has caused many a positive crime. Wc are to believe in, accept, follow, and I be thankful for the spccial guidance which j the Holy Spirit now and then unnuestionI ably vouchsafes. We are to depend chiefly, 1 however, upon His aid in instruction and 1 direction of our own powers of Judgment. I Using either and both aright, as given us, i we shall tw led to the results which He de1 sires for us.?[Free Church Monthly. WOOD IT. "The young people of today,'' said the old squire, "can have no idea of'the difficulties and dangers of travel fifty years ago. I remember a journey that I made in 1835 from ! Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania, to New Or leans. My chance of success in an important undertaking depended upon my reaching ; New Orlians before a certain day. "It was then late in November. The cold I was becoming intense. Tbe Ohio river was full of large blocks of floating ice. aud there seemed to be imminent danger that the l channel would close over before we could | reach the Mississippi. If it should do so, there was no chance of my reaching New Orleans by land. Tracts of unbroken wilderness intervened, and the storms were frequent and . heavy. I M 'Can we make it, captain V 1 asked, as I stood beside the master of the Messenger . on the deck, watching the wheel labori- I ! ously ploughing its way through the masses I or ice. " 'I don't know, sir,' he said. 'The chan! nel is nearly closed. If we can cut our way through to warmer water today,we are safe, j but the ice is making fast. Every minute counts.' ' I was trembling with excitement. My future largely depended on the progress of this lumbering old boat. She seemed to me | to creep, to crawl, finally, she 9tood still. ' ''The wheel was deliberately reversed. The boat quivered, ran to shore, "stopped. ! "I leaped to the edge of the deck. The pilot stood idle, the captain and clerk joked leisurely together. ! '"What has happened?' I shouted. 'Why do you stop? I am ruined if you do not go on.' ' ;We are wooding up,' calmly said the I wheelmau. 'Taking on fuel.' j '-The black deck hands below were throw! ing the wood to the boat from a heap on shore, accompanying their motions with a j slow, melancholy chant. ' I grew wild with impaticnce. I counted ! each lost minute as a step toward disaster. "The boat .started again in half an hour, : but twice that night it stepped to 'wood up' j cnch time, as I thought, losing ground hopel lessly. Hut when morning came she steamed i triumphantly out of the caking ice into free i water and had p issed on our way two boats | lying caught among the icy hummocks. " 'They had no: fuel enough to keep their engines going,' said the captain. 'They I wouldn't stop at the la^t station?thought they could make it. In a run like this, you have irot to make haste slowly if you want to win.' "I oflen think of the captain'* saying, when I ?ee ambitious young people starting on their run for life. They're too anxious, too eager. They are not willing to atop to take on fuel. ' "When I see a lad growing thin and yellow over bis books, making haute to win'his honors nt college or his degree in a profession I feel like saving to liim, 'Lav l>y! Play ball?walk?sleep! You're burning "up the fuel in your body; take on more. ( "Or when I see n'middle-aged man driving < night and day at one idea?business or book- j writing, or even preaching?I think, 'You're , using up all your fuel. Stop. Go out among , other men. "Take in fresh ideas, fresh emo- j tions?make haste slowly.' I "More than all. when I see men who pro- j fess to he Christians, living with no other in- j struction for their daily life than that of a \ weekly sermon. I want to say to them, 'You j must take in fuel- Read your Hi hie. l>o ( not omit prayer. You cannot make spirit- j ual progress simply with good intentions. Wood up, or the motive power will die out, and the better life stop midway in its heavenward journey?frozen iu the ice!'"'? , ^Youth's Companion.^ j A sudden* wave of Intemperance , amoDg the school boys ot Philadelphia , has resulted in a startling discovery, j It is said to be due to the statement in , the temperance text-books that a small ( quantity of liquor maketi a man Lively < and gay. When the boys read this they began to experiment a little. The temperance people have decided to i have thnir books revised. t _ ... " 8 Ashantee'3 king is allowed ff;833 I wives. Three must be the ualuoky ] number in Aahanteei _ ; \ / SABBATH SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOB ? SEPTEMBER 20. ] Lesson Text: "Christ, the Good Dnepnera," jonn x., 1-lU? ( Golden Text: Ps. xxiti., j 1?Commentary. j I 1. "Verily, verily, I say onto you." These great and most emphatic words occur so of- j ten (aome twenty-five times in this gospel) j that the careless reader is apt to slight them instead of attaching to them the importance < which they deserve. "Verily" is "Amen," \ and carries us back to Isa. lxv., 16, whore we read of *'the God of Truth" or "the. God Amen" (R. V., margin). "I say unto you" < is equal to the "Thus saith the Lord" ot the , prophets, found over 500 times in Jeremiah and Ezekiel. "He that entereth not by the door into I the sheepfold, but ciimbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber." There were shepherds of Israel in the days of the kings and in the time of Christ also who I were not of God's appointing, and who cared more for themselves than for the sheep. They did not strengthen the diseased, nor heai the sick, nor hring back tie driven I away, nor seek the lost, but were cruel and oppressive rulers of the1 people (Ezek. xxxiv., 4). Such were the Pharisees of the preceding chapter, who devoured widow's houses, and for a pretense made long prayers 1-u.uiu. xxiu., i-i). i ney even maue me nou.se of God a den of thieves by their merchandise (Math, xxi., 18). 2. '-But he that entereth in by the door is theshepherd of the sheep." Jesus was sent of God, as He affirms over thirty times in this gospel. He neither did His own will nor sought His own glory (chapter vi., 38: viii., 50). He pleased not Himself (Romans xv., 3). He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant (Phil. ii.t 7?R. V.). He healed the sick, brought back the driven away, sought the lost,'and in every sense proved Himself the true shepherd of the sheep. 3. "To him the porter openeth, and tha sheep hear his voice; and he calleth his own sheep by name and leadeth them out."' The porter is the Lord the Spirit, the third person of the Blessed Trinity, who opens the heart to the Lord Jesus and His message as He opened the heart of Lydia (Acts xvi., 14); and who also opens doors for the followers of Jesus,(Acts xvi.,27; Cor. xvi.,9; II Cor. ii., 12). His own sheep who hear His voice are those that are truly His. not having merely a name to live, but having life indeedt having sincerely received Himself as their life. 4. "And when He puteth forth His own sheep He goeth before them, and the sheep follow Him, for they know His voice." He does not drive them out. He does not aek His sheep to go where He has not gone Himself, nor to ao what He Himself has not done. The Pharisees, on the contrary, say and do not;* they bind heavy burdens and lay them on men's shoulders, but they themselves will not mo,ve them with one of their Angers (Math, xxiii., 3, 4). 5. "And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him- for they know not the voice of strangers." The stranger is the thief and robber of verse 1. the shepherds that feed themselves of Ezek. xxxiv., 2, or the idol shepherds of Zach. xL, 17. They are those who say they are apostles, but are not, for they are liars (Rev. u., 2). ft. "This parable spake Jesus unto them; but thev understood not what things they were which Ho spake unto them." Even the jlisciples understood not many of His sayings"(John xii., lo; Luke xvii., 34; Mark ix., 32), so that He had to say to them. "Are ye ilSO yet without understanding? Do ye not unaersianar- imatu. iv., id, ifj. ? 7. "Ihen.s^id Jesus unto .jhem, again, Verily, verily, f say unto'you, fam the door of the sheep/' He is the door by which the sheep enter the fold, for no one can come to the Father but by Him, and there is none other name given under heaven, among men whereby we must De saved (John xiv., 6; Acts iv., 12). He is a!so the door of access to the sheep, for without Him we who believe in Him can do nothing (John xv., 5). 8. "All that ever came before Me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not hear them." He could not possibly refer to such as Moses and the prophets who were before Him in the sense of antecedent to Him. fpr they were sept bv ^im^od were His faithful witnesses, out ffle word ' -before sometimes signifies "instead of' or "in preference to," as wbj)p,_Gad said, "Thou SKalt have no other gods before Me1' (Ex. xx. 3). "I am the door; by Me if any nyy^ejt ter in he aWl be saved, and shall go in ana out, and find pasture." He is not only the entrance to Life and to the Kingdom, but He is an entrance wide open, inviting and entreating all to enter in. 10. "The thief cometh not,but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy; I am come that tVinrr mifrVif hflVA Iff* nnH thttt. tlhftV michfc have it more abundantly." The thief or stranger or false prophet is well described in Ezek. xxxiv., ana elsewhere in the prophets. His aim is always selfish; he speaks to please the king and the people, that he may have their favor and receive their wealth, or he oppresses that he may enrich himself. Jesus, on the contrary, seeks nothing for Himself, but gives Himself to all who come to Him. 11. "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth His life for the sheep." He is also called the Great Shepherd and the Chief Shepherd (Heb. xiii., *20; I Pet. ii., 25). Instead of killing and destroying for His own benefit, like the thief, He suffers Himself to be killed for the benefit of others. 12. "But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth tne wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and fieeth, and the wolf catcheth them and scattereth the sheep." Hireling and wolf are all one with the thief and robber?that is, they are all on the side of the enemy, and apainst the sheep and the Goop Shepherd. "He that is not with Me is against Me, and he that gathereth not with Me scatterefch abroad'' (Math, xii., 39). 18. "The hireling fieeth, because he id an hireling, and careth not for the sheep." He r%aw?Acs rtnlwfni" V?io KiVq oo if a mi'ni'ofijr Qhniil/1 think more of his salary than of the souls committed to his care. "14. I am th9 Good Shepherd, and know M7 sheep and am known of Mine." This is the essential theme of the whole discourse. Tha under shepherds may recaive into the church many who are not His, and may fail to gather in many who are His. "Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are His" ill Tim. ii., 19). In reference to receiving those that are not His we would do well to remember His own words: "Every plant which My Heavenly Father hath not pianted shall be rootei up" (Math, xv., 13). 15. "As the Father knoweth Me, even so know I the Father. And 1 lay down My life for the sheep." At another time He said, "No man knoweth the Son but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him" (Math, xi., '27j. He dwells much upon the oneness of the Father and Himsell, and also upon the oneness of believers with the Father and Himself. If we but ({rasped this great truth more fully we would be more ready to lay down our lives fortbe brethren, as we are taught in I John iii., 16. 16. 'And other shaep I have which are not >f this fold; them also I must bring,and they shall hear My voice; and there shall be one ,'old and one shepherd." He is speaking to lews, but His heart goes out to the Gentiles pet to be gathered to form the great compaly out of all kindreds and peoples and :ongues and nations (Rev. v., 9,10.) He see3 ;he Glory of His Kingdom, when not only all [srael shall have one king over the twelve iribes, united never to be divided any more, 3ut there shall be on a Kinz over all the earth, ind the whole earth shall worship Him.? Lesson Helper. A Boston wife boasts that, aftei rears of marriage, her husband kisses tier five times a day; whereupon a Chi* jago paper retorts that thero is a lad? jut there who has been married more than ten years, and another woman's husband kisses her twenty times * 1 day. There is 110 use trying to beat j Chicago. It seems at this distance a little se- ! , rere for English justice to doom a man j , o five years' imprisonment for merely J itoaling a bundle of canes, but it must 1 )e taken into consideration that no real j Englishman is oomplete without his j 1 falking-stick. .... . ' 1 ' ' ; !.sS -ana Doctors say that the left leg Is ma-'1 illc stronger than the rioht. Scientific men insist upon it tin#- ; Niagara Falls are receding every year. I ^ It was so intensely hot at San MigoalJ Dal., the other day that some chemicals , in the principal drug store explodlSBgH fiom the high temperature and set fire' .. :o the building. A. Philadelphia firm is making graft - J success in tinning articles made of cast /i ron. The articles so treated are far nore durable than galvanized or japanned tvare, and are equally cheap. An elevated electric railway between - /' Chicago and Milwaukee, a distance of y ;ighty-tive miles, on \yhich trains are to sake the run in "an hour at most/' is in enterprise recently incorporated. Red stockings are generally colored 5 from matters of aniline, which contain., large quantities of antimoniao products. ' When perspiring, this matter becomes \ ^ soluble, enters the pores of the skin, and produces a violent rash. The Mexican Government has btea '.'.J experimenting with a new machine foe a manufacturing ramie. The machine }'& made one and a quarter tons per day and , >: the expense of cleaning the fiber was only 4 7-10 cents per pound. ^5 The Smithsonian Institution at Wash- $2 ington has received from China a pair of ;;$ stockings manufactured from human ^ hair. They are worn by fishermen over M cotton stockings (being too rough for ;'.;h the naked skin), and under straw shoes, as a protection against moisture. | The recent improvements in miner#*, (amps and the ventilation of mines ia' 7 England, coupled with extra watchfulness on the part of the Superintendent*{-/ and others, reduced the number of th<M? killed from explosions of fire damp la 4 the first six months of this year to eighteen, against 276 in the same period ot 't[ 1890- . ;$ It is stated that the Wbor of Saloniea ^ is threatened with the fate which befell that of Smyrna. The alluvial depoaita '-;$3 of the Vardar have advanced as far as Cape Kara-Burun, and the entrance through the sand banks is nowreijj~3S difficult. The prospective value of thi ' i port to Austria-Hnngary is douDtful, on- 'i less extensive dredging operations am carried out. "W. F. Stanley, the well known optician, has devised a "phonometer," or ; . chronograph, for enabling a person tfym measure distances by observing the tuaa^ between the report and flash of agun.-^ It can also be used for estimating the .; * distance of lightning by turning thtt'/y tlasti witn tne ciap or inunaer anu anoning a quarter of a mile (333 metres, oc, -j* over XUOO feetj for every second of interval, ^ * According to despatches received Cape Town, South Africa, Mr. TheodoWt^ Bent, who is exploring - the ruina azia^ historical remains in Mashonaland, ha* discovered some images and pottery at ^ the Zimbabye ruins which are suppoM&vf to be of Phoenician workmanship. Thin news has excited great interest, and fist-- ? ther particulars are eagerly awaited w. i'j< the hope that the relics will enable w- ' chseologists to decide when and by whom ' .; theZimbabye structures were built^^v The St. Paul road is building engines at the Merrill Park shops in Mil-; waukee, Wis.twhich promise a revolution: . in locomotive building. The neft gines consume their owh smoke andhavr no smokestack. They are fitted up wltfc ? an electricalJjeadljgbt, which isjriacqtt^ j on a stand immediately In front of tha' . boiler, thus giving the engineer an na obstructed view of the line ahead. dri ve-wheels are larger than on the ortfc-^ nary locomotive and intended for greater speed. The new engines are particular)* designed to furnish power for lighting PwJ passenger trains with electricity and for ffl furnishing steam heat. Habits of Wild Ducks. At the period of incubation duclcfr^ make their nests whenever the desire taf^ deposit the first egg comes upon them. ' ; If they have neglected to provide a suit- ' > able retreat, it is too late to mend mat> , V ters. Sioce then I have passed and re- ! % passed the spot, and have seen the egg& r handled frequently, but for all thai Madame Duck does not desert her rockj 3 home. Jock suggests that I go to hit ' camp, three miles distant, for dinner..' 7' On the way we cross an immense marshy *s flat, and in the middle of this is a beau* tiful spring, some eight yards in diame* : ter. the water is fairly blue, icycold^ i' and no bottom can be seen at theceatrer but about the edge, where the water it ?from one to ten feet deep, are massive % rocks that arc fantastically draped with aquatic mosses and algaa so that it seems > lite looking down into fairyland. Tha waters of this spring run for a quarter of; fj a mile and then sink to reappear a mite away, bursting into the creek from ere*- gj ices in the volcanic rock. The swamp- ' is a great breeding place for teal, and ' ' il. iL.!_ tnres or lour clucks wim meir youug broods are swimming in the minature %? lake. As we burst upon the sceae one duck flies off, but the rest stay to conceal their young. How do they do it? Bring' $5 them in to shallow water,where they can rest upon the bottom and stick their % bills up through the nioas. Then the. < old ones swim out into deep water and :.t resort to the same tactics. We drive v the ducklings from their place of concealment and they swim out to their parents with half of their bodies exposed- J Though the moss is just as inviting they ; will not hide where they cannot feel bottom and their mothers bring then, back to shore. Young ducks can dive, but have not the power of remaining beneath the water for any length of time until they can make a strong flight. The power of remaining beneath the water* acquired by practice and is not innate.? For tit and Stream.' Tables. A year or two ago the people who owned a round dining-table envied those who possessed a square one, and now the matter is reversed and still the madams with the oblong table is out of fashion. I heard a lady say of her square table, j which, of course, is a long one when a few table boards are put in it: l,Thisia hopelessly suggestive of a .boarding house, this long table; sol have had a great cover made for it, which is seven. feet round and at which I can seat eight- ' eon people." And so it goes. We who have oblong tables are worried becausc they are not round, and tho3e that are -i square are in iasuion one year and out of fashion another, and things have to be kept going, so that trade may booa and that those who are afraid of the dictate* of fashion may be kept miserable.-rtfc- f iin Journal. ,,.Jj