Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

? ?? ?? ' ? I _ _______ I'wtfi to Jtgritullorf, Dortirattm?, JteiMstir (fttJ lr fUfratnrr, Politico tttib tf?c Current Hems of tljr Doi). IS? .:"^SgJSB^-rfi111 i'i11kftjPlJiBiB^MMS^iSiaKA^fe^ ,'z=mlu*?^.^ - . -v~rzrr ? ~~ ' "~~ "" "' ^^^SHwiwytfVjrnWg^^^BWneniSnnat | pressTon. Emily ley, pate, indeed, bat not 1 JSfl KKA f If ^ am! tOrkina anm.?t-~- to naU>*<K* Blowly from the wall and window oh as oil th sunset's golden eplecdor l 5: Going down. Ik v * ,*Ts It night?" eh* whispered, waking (for he r ' spirit teemed to hover Lost between the next world's sunrise and th< IRfV., bedtime caros of this). And the old iuau, weak and toariul, trembllm as be bent above l-.or, Answered, "Yea" 'Are the children In ?" sho asked him. Cooiu be tell her? All tho treasures Of their hoasehold lay In sncnoo many years beneath the snow; But her heart was with thorn living, back among hsr toils and pleasures Long ago: And again sho called at drw-fall, in the swoet J, old summer weathor, 'Whero is little Charley, father? Frank and Robert?ba\o thoy coine?" "They ago safe," tho old man faltsrei?"all the 'children are together, tiafo at home." *?? - ?i -? ?* no mnmur.-a gentle soothtnge, but bis Nil iF L j"'*?* 8tro?m anl ?trongor, Itohoked and ulillel him as ha held and v> rin'.hU hunl, ot hoariim^ oouid lite \ -3^ ^??M^-?^JtiorBtand. #** "' Stilt the pivlo llpa stammered questions, lullabies and broken vereoe, Nursory prattlo-ell tho language of a mother's V loving heeds, 'While tho midnight round tho mourner, left to ka sorrow's blttor merolos, Wrapped Its weeds. ' There was st'llucs^ ori tho pillow?and the old man listonod Jonoly? Till tlioy led him from tho ohambor, with the burden on his breast. For the wife of svonty years, bis manhood s early love and only, Lay at rest. "Faro-yon-well," he sobbed, "my Sarah; you ^rlll meet tho babes before mo; Tie a little while, for neither can the parting long alddo. And you'll oome and call mo soon, I know?and lioaven will restiro rue To your side." it was even so. Tho sprln>t(mo, In the stops ^ of u lot t tr ? * I'nq Bem oly iIj oroL- . b'.o;33 ns ore the old _<r-- ??wii v.ubvu uid oyo3, I Ana thoy buried him by Sarah?aud thoy had & their "diamond wedding* In the akle.-i. POORTITTLE EMILY. The History of a Prudent Marriage. BY MISS MULOOK. m AIM VI* V I Pooplo do l>renk their hearts sometimes. Not very often, for a large proportion have roolly no hearts to break; and a few who hare them have also that stern power of endurance, which, if tboy ouly have strength to live through the first shock, will euablG thsm still to livo on?livo nobly, heroically, until they como to experience the mysterious internal foroe of renaparted to every ho una lioTy auu LvaltfWy constituted mind; which turna eyil into good, and transmutes dull misery into that active battling with sorrow which in time produces a deeper peace than oven happiuess. But here and thoro are others, like poor Emily Bowerbauk. gifted with strong Der sistcncy of loving, nnd almost no other strength?no othur persistency in anything; wool, gentle, sonsitivo souls; climbing Elants, who, if they find a prop to cling to, loom bounteously nil their days; but, finding no pi op, or buing rudely torn from it, alio silently to the oartb, where tlicy soon wither awuy, nnd have no use nor bounty in their lives ever after. This may not be noticeable outside; the result may be attributed to many accidental external onuses--worldly misfortune, constitutional feebloneBS, and so on, but tho real cuuso la?their hearts aro broken. Why it should be so?why, above all, Providence honld allow it?should permit the gentle weak ones to succumb to the bad strong ones, and the virtuous to be sacrificed to tho vicious ? tho udBQlfish and nrucbenduring to those who have neither tonderness nor generosity?is a mystery that -^^never will be unraveled. Wo ?on only I | ISiWfcJt with Him who, dying, prayod to | r Hia Fathor,- as Emily bowerbank tried to pray to the Father iu heaven, whenever fho thought of her own father, "Forgive them, they know not what they do*" Nevertheless, her heart was broken, and ohe knew it. She recovered from her fever, and by degrees resumed almost her former placo in her husband's household, though not in general society; she was quits incapable of that, and, besides, during her tedions convalescence, Sir John hath got into a habit of going to his dinnerparties alone. She was, to all appearance, quite well; still she never agnin took a firm hold on life, never was hoard to talk of the futuro, or to make any plans beyond tho month, or the week, and then gradually so gradually that no one perceived it?not even beyond the day.. She was not in a consumption, for the doctor fouud no disease in the lnnga; it was more what the oountry peoplo oall "a waste"?that is, a gradual sinking of all (he powers of the body, and sometimes even or tbe mma; until mental grieig coaso to wound, and ot bodily suffering, except wonriness nnd feebleness, there is absolutely none. Mot a painful death to die, especially when surrounded by nil tho luxuries that wealth or kiodly care oonld bestow?everything, in short, exoept the one thing?tho one amulet ox lire, which had been taken away from her. People do not recognize half dearly l enough the truth that God would not have [ created aruoh a thing as mutual love, ending in marriage, hod he not meant it to be the one thing needful?not abeolately to the salvation of a human soul, though it is that, or tho coutrarr, ofteuer than we suipeot, but to its perfect development, and, above all, to it? happiness. Thoso who Interfere with what ia celled "a love afr fair" are doing what they never can undo; - destroying what is impossible to tebuild; taking away from human beings that which no substitute, be it family affection, wealth, worldly honor, or suooess, osn avail to restore. All are valueless when love ia not there. xa? uoa wy green over nr. nenam b bonesi biff life was over; but he had blighted two other lives ? lives which I might have blossomed into beauty and carrlea their perfeelness down Into coming Cip'.?^fenerations, when his poor, solflsh exist ooo was forgotten In the dust. He had dons it, and it never could be ondons. What had become of John Htenbousc was s question that Mrs. Knowle often shed herself. Only to-herself, however, Constantly, as she visited Lady Bowerbank, and more especially since the sad illness which followed the sudden deall f Mr. Ksocial, bis name had, ainoe tha <1 "c' first night, never onoe been breathed between them. It ?M impossible it eoult be, between any two honorable women Nevertheless, the elder matron thoatfht o )i)m s deal more than wtmld haw ii pww Mr. Knowlo bad contrived to pret rent all offers being made to him or retaining to England. 0 Still, occasionally be was hoard jot, to Mrs. Knowle's great satisfaction, though seeing that Emily made no inquiries, her r information was carefully kept to herself. , Bqt she took a romantic interest most unWormy of suoh a very practical and eensl( ble old matron, in the young mau and his fortunes; for she never oeased to believe, and asserted repeatedly to her husband, that so truo a lover and so honest a man aS John B teahouse conld never have forsaken a woman in this mean way; and, though the real truth df the mattot might" never be discovered, she was as certain as she was of her existence that there had been something wroug somewhere. "And it may oome right yet, who knows? I hope I'm not wicked?and it's ill waiting barefoot for dead men's sho39, but Sir John is over sixty, and he Will have had a very fair enjoyment of life if he lives, to eighty; end poor Emily will not be hiuoh ovor forty-throe even (hen. Eolks do sometimes take Ui? ?? * .^a7wi^a Kii" gol mltTlOU, KUQ end their days happily together, after all. Mr. Knowles shook his gray head. "It won't be the case here, wife, so yoa need not think it." lie gave no more explanation, for he was not a talkative man. but his wife noticed that he often rode ronnd two miles ont of his way to business in order to inquire how Lady Bowerbank was that morning. And Mrs. Knowle, from paying a formal visit once in three months, got slowly into the habit of driving to Bnmmor Lodge at least twice a week and spending the morning with Emily. And by degrees she returned to the old tender fashion, and called her not "Lady llowerbunk," but "Emily." One morning the two ladioB wore sitting together, one working - for Mrs. Knowle's fingers wore never empty of work?and the other reading, or attempting to read, the newsnonor ?? ?-??*-?? -??,?.. -w.w^??j/v4o woia bornuiy illteres ting now in all houses, for it was jast abont the time of the Indian revolt, and, as this generation will long remember, fai and near, there was scarcely a family who had not to monrn their dead. Lady Bowerbank, without giving any reasons fot tt?and indeed none were required, for the * sympathy was too universal?had taken n deep interest in the tidings brought mail after mail, aud, horrible as they often were, they were not forbidden her. for they seemed to rouse her out of herself to feel for afflictions compared to which her own wero nothing. Sho also began to exert herself and her small strength in a way that surprised both hor husband and the dootors, gathering and making contributions in aid of the sufferers, and trying in a fecblo way to organize schemes for their relief, and find out cases of exceeding need, which, by monns of tho largo Indian connections of the houso of Boworbank ?fc Co., was not difllcult to accomplish. '"I should like to do a little good before I go," silo said one day, when Mrs. Kr.owle was urging hor not to exert herself. "I have done so littlo good in my lifo, you know." And so thoy let her do it; and eho spent monoy, aud time, and thongnt, upon tnese melancholy charities, hor husband grudging nothing; ho never did. Ho was a very' good man. Many a letter ho wrote, inhn (lrnVD nnl (n 1 nn('Vi 1 n ififi muliilft Af "fliR day--he that used never to take oven a half-holiday from business?in order to tell liia wifo some pieeeof news, or oak how alio was, or bring her some little delicacy from market or hot-house, if she chanced to bs especially fanciful or feeble that day; for sho was very fanciful, as sickly people often are; but she strove against it In a Catholic way; and Mrs. Knowle noticed ow invariably she tried to look grateful and pleased ut Kir John's little attentions, and to smile steadily as long as he remained in tho room. "I have really got a piece of news for you to-day, my doar," said he, sitting down beside her, "though it is not for you so much as for Mrs. Knowle?at least half for ono and half for the other. You shall bear the ploasure between you. Guess." I'V. 4 l.J: 4_i ?,1 1? ..II nea.nAOO 4.UO IWU IdUlOO IX soil 1U nu (;u*i?VMUoa| bat failed signally, both of them. "Well, then, tirflt, Lady Bowerhoak, it concerns you. That widow with three children?Mrs. Hamilton, yon know, whose husband was shot at Bareilly, and who wrote you such a pretty letter of thanks? she is coming home by next maiL" "With all her children, I hope! Poor thing!" " Von neod not say 'poor thing,' for it is not only with her children?she brings a husband too." "Then he was not shot, after all?" "Yes, he was," said flir John. "But you women are carious creatures. This is ner second husband. She has married the Eentleman who saved her life and tbat of er throe children, and brought her hundreds of miles across country and through indescribable perils. As Hlie has not a halfpenny, and he is pretty well off, perhaps, poor woman, she m ght have aone worse. Yon will think so, Mrs. Knowle, for you know the person?oar old clerk, John Stenbouse." "John Steuhouse! Married!" oxclaimod Mrs. Knowle; as, with an agitation she could hardly conceal, she glanced toward the sofa where Lady Boworbauk lay. But this tidings, which had powerfully uffected the good lady herself, seemed to have passed quite harmlessly over F.tnily. She I scarcely turned or showed any sign of emotion beyond a feeble fluttering of the Angers, whioh were soon stilled and folded npon one another over her heart- -an involuntary attitude of hers, somothing like Cbantrey's figure of Resignation. " Whv on earth should not the vouncr man I be married?" said Sir John, smiling. "My dear lady, you look ?? vexed us if yon wrm?%1 to have him for Tonr second! I mast certainly tell Knowlo of this. What do you say, Lady lloaeibank?" Lady Bowerbauk said quietly: "I think people should always m irry whoever they choose, and that nobody should blame or criticise them for it. Nobody but themselves can know the whole circumstances." "Quite right. You are a sensible woman, Emily," said the old man, looking tenderly at bis yonng wife, who yet eeemod so much nearer the other world than he. "Well, J must go back now, for I am full of business You'll wait here to dinner, Mrs. Kr.owle?" Mrs. Knowls muttered some excuse conoeruiug "Edward." She looked exceedingly nervous and uncomfortable still. ".Well, do as you like. Only stay as lon^ as ybh can?stay aftd grumble at your frienc Btenhousoand his marriage. By-the-by 1 think I shall write to meet them et South amp ton; it would only be civil, aud I llker Slenhous*. What shall I give him- -you L'ond wishes?" "If you please.* "And mine," said Emily, half raising her > self from Ihe sofa. "I knew him onca?wi i cnot at Mrs. Knowle's. He will ramembe me?Emily Kendal." "Very well, my dear." I After Sir John was gone, Mrs. Knowl t took her friend's band in hers and held ii l( but she did not attempt to speak; she liter ally did not know what to say. Lady Bow 1 | erbank's manner, so gentle, so composed bad completely puxz'ed, nay, frightens ' her. She could not believe it natural. Br | U was natural; there Was no affectation c y i r ^ usual, ner eyes open, end fixed with e soft, steady Rare on the white Ipring clouds that sailed* in niountainous mosses across the dark blae sky; great heights and depths of heaven, Into which the soal, when it is loosely held to earth, seems to fiieroe with an intense aud yet calm desire, hat sdothes all pain and mokes everything levol and at rest. "I am glad of this?very glad," she said, after along pause, and without any explanation. **Ue ought to be married, and he will be sure to make a good, kind husband to whomever he chooses for his wife, aud nd doubt he has chosen wisely and well." "I hope ho has," said Mrs. Knowlo, rather tartly. She was but human, and she did not like tho destruction of her little ro* mance. MI am sure of it. The man who oould love one woman so faithfnll? ? ? ? ~??j ABO IIIITH | mvfij me " I K?owlo turned round eagerly. Emily colored, even under the paleness of mortal disease. "Yes, it wm bo. He was never untrue tome. I can't tell you any particulars, and I never found it out mysolftill a little while ago. But he did KiSSSS&ess; "My father's." Mrs. Knowle almost started from her oh air. "What an atrocious -n "Hush! it is too late now. And besides, it might have come to the same thing in tho oud." Feel hero!" and she took Mrs. Knowle's hand and put it to her heart, which was beating violently and irregularly. u Lie docs not know it ?my good husband, I moan. Wai ho not good to mo this morn* ing? Nobody knows it, I think. But I know it," and she smiled. UI am quite certain?safely certain that I am dying." "Don't say that. You must not?you ought not." And Mrs. Knowle triod a little to reason her out of that conviction, which seemed to be the sonrce of all her strength, and the soothing of all her sorrows. "No?no. This world has been a littlo too hard for me," Emil.v said; "but la the Diner i may Degra again, and bo strong. Do you think he has forgiven me?" ^ "Who, my poor child?" "John Stenhonse. You Bee, I might have obeyed my father," and not married him, but then I ought not to havo married at ail. Nobody ought, loving another person all the time. Bat I was so weak?and Never mind. It does not matter much now." i ' "John hns married, you see," said Mrs. Knowle, partly with a lurking sense of indignation at him and partly from a vague feeling that even now it was her duty to impress that fact salutarily upon Sir John Bowerbank's wife. Both tho wrath and the caution passed harmlessly over the 1 gentle spirit, that was already loosing its 1 cables from earthy shores, and feeling soft, pure airs blowing toward it from the land unseen. "Yes. he has married: I can ouite nnder stood how it cams. about; just the_ gprt i oTniariiage He would be aaro to mak6 ?of pity, and tenderness, and duty, and it may turn oat a very bappy one. He will love her very much?when I am quite gone away. I hope she is a good woman." "I hope so," said Mrs. Knowlo rather huskily. "Would you mind trying to find out? I don't mean that I am every likely to have TTgrtO-RuM BUuau'Hidh-'nuh-CUiihwa. . something about her three ohildron, too. Ho will have to work hard to maintain so largo a family." "Very hard." It was strango how the two women aeomed to have changed places. Emily talked, Mrs. Knowle was all but silent. "You are sure you don't mind making these inquiries? Or I would ask my husband. Yes, perhaps, alter all, it will'be better to ask my husband. Ho might befriend them very much, and I am sure he would like to do it." "In the way he once wanted?by getting John Btenbouse into the firm again? Do you mean that? and do you wish it, Emily?" "Nn. Tint vmh it oxnctlv. lint"?and she opened her eyes wide, clenr And pore? pare alike with the innooenoo of Borrow nnd (ho peace of coming death, and fixed them steadily on Mrs. Knowlo'e face?"I should not be afraid of his coming to Liverpool?not now." Mrs. Knowle fairly laid her head on the sofa pillow nnd sobbed. Then Bhe rose up, saying in a cheerful voice: c "Well, my dear, I havo staid talking quite long enough for one day, so crood-by. 111 keep a lookont after tbe Stenhouses. Meantime lie down and get a sleep if yon can, and take care to be qnite brisht by the limo Sir John comes in to dinuer." " Ob, yes, I always try to do that. I like to pleaso him. He is very good to mo," said Emily Bowerbank. [TO B.E CONTINUED.} Liquor Dinking; a SIii. Total abstinence in a young man is not only a never failing source of aelf-gratulation, but it saves bim from much sin. Who can doubt it who knows that of the hundreds of thousands of drunkards of this country, not one can look back to any time when his yielding to the habit was more decisive than the time ho took his first glass' Who can doubt it who knows that no sinful habit can control a man unless he has yielded himself to it., that 8Ui h "yielding is hid." and t.)iat the llrstand every successive glass means the welding of a link in the chain that in the end will bind him? By direct and logical conclusion we s*e that even if the first gins: of liquor did a man no harm, it is the beginning of a dangerous course, calculated to coad in many cases to a sinful evil. Is it not th n iu itself sinful! All tho more so when iCit known that modern science shows that even the smallest quantity of alcohol at onve at tacks and weakens tho moral power?those very forces which are most needed to resist the encroachments of the giants of appit.te and habit! To our way or thinking, liquor drinking is a sin per se.?Pioneer. Deer Drinking in Chicago. There are eighteen breweries in Chicago Which makes on on average 1,500,000 barrels of beer annually. About 800,000 barrel* i t </;t oitijui Nearly all the beer made here ia consumed here, so that we drink 1,800,000 barrels each year. As eaob pint bottle makes two glasses, it I remember correctly, there would do sixteen glasses in a gallon, or 466 glasses in a barrel of thirty gallons?a grand total of 892,000,000 glasses. That seems to be a won* derful lot of beer. Suppose there are 1,500,000 people in Chicago and its suburbs?and that is where ail these 1,800,000 barrels are consumed annually?each man, woman and child would f(p% on a fair apportionment, a little more than 595 glasses or nearly two a day. 1 know lo?s of people who don't drink that much beqr in all their lives, so there must be some who drink pretty industriously. ' I am told that good, fat beer drinkers of in| dustry and skill in the business habitually 1 get away with fifty And sixty alas** a day. r A few hundred people of this kind would, of course, do a great deal to lower the geqeral average.?untcayo lie tow. i A Jnditft'i OhaP^?. 1 ". The Uquor traffic wins the machinery, th< F enginery of legislation, mod by it cr?tee ? moral phenomenon of perpetaal motiot . which nature deniea to physics; for it lloaasa and empowers itself to beget in endleei ' rounds the wrongs, eioae and crimes whio) society is organized to pre real And wars - of all for oar country, It encode parties Ilk< I. the eerpenta of Laoeoon, and ornehee in it d folds the spirit of patriotism and Monti Judgv NoaH Davit. i , V *- ? K , ^ oi/ilUULi . , ,;rf ' INTERNATIONAL LRSSON Foil ilARCH 31. Lewon Text: Tho Quarterly RoTlewr. Golden' Text: Acta it. 22?Commentary. The lessons that we hare studied hare exhibited both the authority of Christ and havo set forth the principles 0. His kingdom. They bare shown both what Be U and what Bis disciples must be. l>t the reriew be conducted along these two lines. tbx AuTnoBrrr or cttourr. 1. Bis royal authority. Jesus tamo as a King. As such He wss preceded by a herald, whose duty it was to prepare toe war for Him wul- T-w_ - -r ? ??uo ine Baptist declared him If to be the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make ye ready the way of Mm Lord, be spoke of himself u a herald, and proclaimed to the Jews that their expected King They thought that John the Baptist niaiself was like the Messiah propbe f ^ oimIow^^i h^bnt he He told tliom that whereas ho baptized with water, the coming One would baptize with the Holy Hpirit and with Are. Comparatively ho was but as the bumble messenger who runs before tho groat King. What was moant by this superiority of Christ was shown at His baptism. Then the beavons opened, the (Spirit descended like a dove upon the Saviour, and a voico from out the heavens was heard saying: "This is my beloved Sob, in whom i am well pleased." Then was made manifest the fact that Jesus was the Son of the King of Kings. 13. His authority as a teacher. That was one of the first things which struck the multitude with amazement Ho did not iustruct after the nsual manner. Ho did not teach like the scribes,who cited decisiousand precedents, and plied high their authorities, to bolster their own statements. Jesus did nothing of the kind. Ho spoke as if Ho Himself were the source and the fonntaiaof truth. Ho did not seoV. conflrmaVm svon by Moses, but laid down priuciples beyond those which the ancient lawgiver had ever uttered. Uls "Verily, verily, I say unto you" had tho force of a "Thus saith tho Lord." Ho so taught that even His own townsmen were comt>oUed to ask, "Whence then bath this man all tbece things!" They oould not reconcile the wis* Nazareth- They discredited it becauso they could not account for it The very reason which caused them to reject Him is the ono which now leads many to acknowledge Him as Lord. His extraordinary power as a teacher is manifest in the parables which Ho put forth. 8. His authority over demons. And that, again, was the causo of great wonder. No ono beforo had been able to exorcise the evil spirits which bad taken possession of men. Bo me times, as in the case of the demoniac at Qadara, it was dangerous to have anything to do with such unfortunates, nuc never ono c&mo into the presence of Jesus whom He did not rescue He carno that He might destroy the works of the devil. A word of command, and the evil spirits departed, leaving their victims again in their right minda In witnessfarHls power over tlieui, ueoplo were lod to Ak: "What is this)" and immediately answered their own question by saying: "A new teaching! with authority Re coinmaudeth even ,tho unclean spirits, and they obey llim." Add His ability to help those whose spirits are unclean is shown oven now. 4. His authority p .a healer. In what striking war." madaanaoifestt He and HU disciples, Hb lald His hand upon a leper, who was "full of leprosy," and instantly he was cleansed, a timid woman touched the hem of His garment, and forthwith ?he felt within horse If that she was made whole of her plague. He told a helpleas paralytic to arise, end without delay be arose and took up his bed, and went out glorifying God. blind man callod to Him from the wayside, and in turn be was callod before Him, and. when told to go his way went seeing. Markyifc would seem, selected those cases which would^especially exhibit the authority of Christ, fbr the Instances mentioned are not those of common ailments. They indeed arc so extreme that they allow of no suggestion of worso cases which might' have hauled Him, And then He had authority over his own authority. Ho could depute it to othors. It was not something which He alone oould use. He gave powsr to the twelve to go forth and cast out demons, heal the sick, and even raise the dead. 5. His authority to forgive. When Jesus saw the poor paralytic, and noted the need of the soul, so tpuen deeper than that of tho body, be impulsively said: "Son, thy sins are forgiven," Hi*u, power to forgive sins was immediately inwardly questioned, but He demonstrated that He bad tho right by commanding the helpless man to rise up and walk. In this Ha indicated what is the truo value of miracles. They were not merely to remove afflictions, but to show tbrt Ho has the power to forglvo sirs. Miracles are not now wrought because that power is establialied. His authority to for give 18 now being abundantly proven oy tue higher miracles of changed lives. THE PBINCIPLKS OF CHRIST'S KINGDOM. It was not nntll a long list of miracles had been performed, such as havo been enumerated, that Jeans turned to His disciples asking them, first, for the opinions of men concerning Himself, and then for their own. When they had declared tnelr faith in Him as the Christ, the Bon of the living Ho<l, then Ho begau to revoal to tbem that He should die and rise again. An increasing tenderness marks His teaching from this time. Ho tells them not only vrhat lie is tc eulTer, but what thoy must do and be. 1. Cross-bearing. In making known to th? TwsIts that He should be offered up at Jerusalem,the Saviour taught them that His own sacrifice was net the exooptlon in His kiugdom,but that in laying down His life He was but acting according to a principle which ap plied to all who would follow Him. 2. Child-likeness. The spirit of ambition has no place in the kingdom of Christ. 11 defeats itself. Those who would be great in it, in order that they may receive homage from tbeir fellows, fall to the lower places Hot the grasping, masterful man is the ideal which Jesus nolds up for attainment, but the iCwpt've, trtrSf-'l. humble-minded child, These who are childlike will find their bearti turning toward the children, and in theii love for the children they still discover a now love for Christ. 3. Consecration. Tho incident of the com ing of tbo young ruler to Jesus shows hot thorough should bo tlje consecration of thoa who desire to enter into tho kingdom of God The spirit of that which was demanded o him is the some as that which is required oi all. No one can conseorato himself to Qoi and.keap back ids property. To that as wel ns to time, strength, mind, and other poesoe sions must be applied the priuciplo that on is not selfishly to think of himself hut c others. Like the .Saviour Himself,ono shout be her# not to bo ministered unto, but t minister.?t'ilf/rim Teaoiur. * Hole Hospitals nre Pitied. Nuniero&^^U^uipped hospitals a RulOnir inv VfUlf ' modern Cb*W! present eljjSKJ^l, wRTirtOrt But why ai (faz*tt? how many of Mm o?m? treated in tl institution ?r? a?ribulablato intenoperanc renliod- "It would be difficult to catinia the number, but it M unquestionably grei We sometlmea find even children -wt drunkards' liver*, due to the habit of glvli infante gn^to SOOtbe them while MMhin Drink i* will no a *onroe of mnuh trouble, the public hooeae were *hut we should na - to ckie half our wwrde, or rather w?*ko? be able to U^e twice as many patient*!" rh-M nsumiANCE. A Boar Trade. > I deal Lu liquid Are 'tis true. But what would many others do If rum and ale were swept away, W here would the lawyer get his pay! The judge would then be seldom seen, The docket would appear so lean. And you might hear the sheriff wall For pay to keep an empty jail. 80 now, when every side you view, You see my trade is useful, too. Altho' I own the traffic's wrong, It helps the busy world along. ?New York Voice. Tempcranoo Among the Ancients The history of Europe, for a long series of centuries has, indeed, been a history of mental regeneration by science, and physical degeneration by alcohol. The frequent bold rinni.1. " *-- ' I "f" wot race justify a brief renew or the development of the alcohol vice among; the nations of tho Caucasian race. The often repeated assertion that our pagan forefathers contrived to combine a robust physique with habitual excess in the use of .LM^iWJwr'Tri inii1 rrv~~. ,06 uywftwt'WWftffe J1 '4. ^! an of the latter centuries of pagan civilization avenged themselves by a rapid decline in all the essential endowments of that physical vigor that had made Rome und Greece almost invincible bulwarks against the inroads of Eastern barbarism. In the century of Leonidas, when temperance lessons went hand in hand with the athletic training of the Spartan gymnasia, one Spattan warrior was considered a match for two wine-drinking Athenians, and for at least a do/on wine and beer guzzling Asiatics. In Magna Graecia (Sicily and southern Apulia) where Grecian civilization attained its zenith of material prosperity, abeoluto abstinence from intoxicating drinks was onforced by the precepts of Pythagoras, whose philosophy bad acquired almost the authority of an established religion. The athlete Milo who could break a bull's head with a blow of his fist and uso bis arras as props for the pillars of a falling temple, was a disciple of that school, and his native city, Crotona, recognized temperance as a chief condition of election to numerous offices of public trust. Similar laws prevailed in Agrigentum, and in Syracuse, tho champion city of tho southern Caucasians and the last refuge of freedom when tho hordes of Africa attempted the conquest of the Grecian colonies. A thousand years later, when all southern Europe was sunk inalcoiliarl*>Btoeled tho~7nanhood of the Semitic races, the descendants of those Sicilian heroes were vanquished again and again by small detachmonts of Saracen warriors, ? Voice. That saloon. Keep away from that saloou, boys. It is a bad place for you. 8ome things you can see, others you can not. Beer, whisky, cigars, candy and sometimes fruits and nuts are seen. These are seen where the windows are clear, wuu somebody cleans the handle of that big front door. There is another room where papers are provided for reading, and games played for checks, redeemable at the counter in the outer room. This may be all you will see if you go in tbere n few times; but byand-by you will see a grinning, dulleyed creature staring at you from tho mirror on the walL Perhaps ha will make his appearance while you are waiting for more beer, and you will never think It is a reflection of yourself. But tbere is worse in that saloon. There is poverty, disgrace and death sold over that counter, paid for often in money which should buy bread for starving (HUr ?v~, ? - . with music. The evil spirit seems to have spent his greatest cunning in disguising tho horrors of intemperance. Boys will go Into such a saloon who would not thinlc of going into a common drinking eel lar. But thousands who have takon thoir first glass in such a snloon have ended in the lowest groggeries. Boys, do not do as they have done. Don't excliango your good thoughts, your bright hopes for intoxicating drink. Don't shorten half your life and make the other half contemptible. Live as Uorl intended you should live. If you begin to drink, no matter how small tho quantity or how weak the quality, you cannot tell where you will 8top. I read in the paper the other day of a man serving a life-sentence in prison for. the murder of a friend. He began to drink as a boy, so little at first ho never thought of danger. When a young man, 011 one occasion ho drank too much, and hit brain was DO fire; a word angered him, he struck a blow whieli made him a murderer. In paying for liquor f?d paid for li s murder ous disposition. It was one of the thiE?S not seen. """ My dear boys, as you valuo your life and happiness, keep out of that-saloon.?Farm, Field, and Stockman. London's Barmaids. Oce of the worst phases of liquor-selling it London, and other English cities, is the om ployment in connection therewith of youni girls as barmaids. Commenting upon th< Whitechapel gin-palaces, aud oi>en archway wherein liquors are sold, Lady Henry Somer set says; "All these places aro served b; young girls. Your hearts would have sick enni n yuu ivum ii??o iwivru uu uivou _ uu.. faces. I say shame on us as a nation. 1 America the amount of drinking is enoi mous. But there is nil honor to the natio in one respect; their feeling about childre and young girls does not exist in Knglam You never find a native-born American gi serving as a barmaid in the States. On ti the land over which wave the Stars at Stripes you will not find young girls placi i in positions of such temptation and dauge i 1 cannot describe the horrors of that scei in Whitochapel, the streets illuminated 1 i the lights of gin palaces." Several unsu cesiful attempts have been made, from tin L to time, to introduce the barmaid system New York city, but happily they have th i far been frowned down by an indigna publio opinion. ? Temperance Advocate. > Temperance News and Notes. The ladies of the W. C. T. U. in Cre Neb., serve a ten cent lunch every Saturdi | Dr. H. Grattan Guinness of London, in ) address delivered before the Congregatioi min'iters of Chicago recently, said that I ii'ttmdn of Africa even dread building the proposed Congo railroad because of r greater facilities it will provide for tro porting the awful curse of rum into t country. * "The League of the Cross" is a society j e organized in New York. Its members pie ' themselves not to treat or accept n treat f anything to drink. It is believed that t league will be a powerful temperance faci J besides saving its members a good deal II money. The treating custom is respons i- for much of the intemperance in this couni t The I'opular Science Monthly gives 5 following: "M. Maramiol reports that 8000 convicts in Franco examined with spect to their habits of drunkonness or 1 perance, seventy-nine per cent, of vagaboi from fifty to fifty-seven per cent, of ossas and incendiaries, fifty-three per cent. offenders against morals, seventy-one cent of thieves and shartpsrsand sevonty-w ?... of offenders avainst property ^ drunkards. Drunkards ar? nearly as n ? aroua among youths under twenty as an ? adults." ic Tha Ne9> Republic, says: "It takes a iu fifteen cents worth of corn to make flf he dollars worth of whisky, and the fan w, share of the outcome of the whisky bus Ae is too small to warrant any rery extei it. stretchings of bis conscienoe. The distl th only use a little over one per cent of the off grown and what they do uie takes the ] fof other corn for fattening hozs and cs f If the work) can get away with ninetyre bushels of good corn and one bushel of Id we think they will be able to maneg? whole hundred in sound corn without break in the market." RELIGIOUS' READING. A Suggestion. Lot tho wild roso bloom. Though not to thoo ' So delicately perfect as tho white And unwed illy drooping in the light: 1 Though sirs has known tho kisses of the D03 And tells her amorous tale to pas-ers by, In perfumod whispers and with untaught 1 K race, 1 Still lot tho red roso bloom in her own , place; She could not bo tho lily should sho try I Why to tho wondrous nightingale cry, "Hush," Or bid her cease her wild, heart breaking 11 lay I And tuno her voi o to imitate the way; b Tho whippoorwill makes music, or tho _ thrush? All heirs of sorrow to ono theme belong, w And passion is n >t copyrighted. Yet I Each heart writes its own music. Why n not let i The nightingale unchidod sing her song? Ella Wheeler lViicox. ki Worsen Workers in tiro Church. | C perasteiit worTTcrs arc to be iownu~ H _ ? i 1 ' *"* ~ ? |*i 1* J mi among these may t>e cncouragen hy burning more fully of Deborah, the Judge; and Anno, in the prophetess; of Mary, in her devoted ser- le vice to Christ; and of Dorcas, in her ministrations to i he needs of the poor. It was the women who wore last at the cross, and ilist Di at the sepulchre. Priscilla could hospitably A entertain Paul, and success ully teach Apol- co los. Both the Old and the New Testaments abound in instances where woman was honored with devino coma i sions which she (lis- Ri charged with marked uccept-ince niul sue- w{ cess. Nor were they without their place in the early church, laboring as deaconesses (Rom. 1*0: I), and as indispensable helpers in m; cairying forward tho great work of Christ oa in tho world.?"Methods of Church Work.' ^ "When the Day is Over. nn It is wise at night to read?but for a few dii minute*?some i>ooks which will composo jQ and soothe the mind; which w 11 bring us face to face with tho truo fa ts ot life, death 8U and eternity; which will make us remember ta! that man doth not live by bread alone; which will give its before wo sleep a few thoughts wort \y of a Chri-tiin man with an immortal 1U* soul in him. And thank t?od, no ono need go kil _fnr to find suclihiK),k.i.. J.do uoJLmenn jnere in tho-o days; I mean any b oks n" wincu no:p to inaKo us better and stc wiser nnu soberer and more chari table persons; any books whic'i will teach us J to despise what is vulvar and mean, fouj and Mi cruel, and to love what is noble and high- . mindo 1, pure and just. In our own English language we may re id by hundreds books w< which will tell of all virtue and of all praise; <"1? the stoiios of good and bravo men and wc women; of gillant and heroic actions; of yc deeds which we ourselves should bo proud of doing; of pers >ns whom wo feel to lie 1 letter, 1 wiser,nobler than we are oursolves.?Canon Kinysleu. :o Training Children. The Sunday School Times enjoins upon parents to make clear ill < distinction that marks, in the child s mind, the Snbb th as j,j. the day of days in the week's history. The ? child mav bo differ r.tly dressed, or dilf r- e ently washed, or dilferonlly handled, on that 3a day, from any other, 8i mo moro disagree- iv ablo detail of its niornin j toilet, or of its day's management, might (n tliat day be omitted, uh a means of marking the day. Tliero tnay be a sweeter song Ming in its some sort granxm to ?ty imwA-? -- , joy with that day in comparison witu the ? days on either side of it. S> > soon as the child SO is old enough to grasp a rattle or to play jf with a toy, th ro ought to bo a difference between fiis Sabba'li rattle or other toy and his weekday delights in the same line. By :e one means or another he should liavo the y Sabbaths to look back upon as liis brightest memory, and to look forward to as his fond esc anticipation, /lliu minis v?uy nu liin mi | traineil to enjoy tho Sabbath, evi n licforo ho .. can know why it is made u joy to hint. A " child is well started in tho lino of wiso train- *< ing when ho is carried al> ng as far as this.? h Ileligious llcrald. 3 Indebted to Christ, i There are men and women here who would , i have been dead twenty years ago but for , Jesus. They havo pone through trial enough to exhaust ten times their physical I strength. Their property went, their health i went, their families wore scattered. God only I knows what they suffered. They aro an 1 ? amazement. tS .themselves that they have 1 been able to stand* ft. 'Tntiy look at their I once happy home surrounded bytrrf ccThlfortT'* ~ Gone! 1 r.ey think of tho time when they used to rise strong in the morning and walk 1 vigorously d iwn tho street an ! had experienced a health they thong't inexhaustible. | > Gone! Everything gone hut Jesus. Ho has 9 pitied them. His oyo has watchod them. 1 3 His omnipotence has defended them. Yes, " Ho has been with them. They have gone r through disaster and He was a pillar of fire J* by ni lit. They havo gone across stormy Galileo, but Christ had His foot on tho neck o tho storm. They felt the waves of troun bio coming up around them gradually, and n they began to climb into tho strong rock of I God's defense, and tlnm they sang as they r\ looked over tho waters: "God is cur refuge U and strength, an ever present help in time id of tr. uble; therefore we will not fear though id tho earth bo removed, though tho mountains r. be carried into tho midst of the sea, though ae tho waters thereof rotr and l?o troubled, jy though the mountainsshake with the swelling ic- thereof.'-?Talmagc. no in 119 Well Ordered Prayer. nt A'as for tin pad errors characterizing multitudes of our prayers to God! Wo ask and receive not, breams wo ask amiss. There is too much of making speeches before Him?especially in our public and social t?, prayers. Aro wo not often moro solicitous iy. m these prayers to please those who hear us an P,-ay. than to receive from the D.vino Hand [ial the things nainol in our prayers? Such th? prayers are but mere coremonies, and are so of regarded bv the multitude; and they may be the pronoun vt\ useless end wors than useles , ,ns- inasmuch as thoy cannot Ins otherwise than hat displeasing in the sight of Go I, while of him who thus professes to pray, tlio solemn ll3j language of St. James is sadly appropriate: "Let not that limn think that he shall re^ ceive anything of the Lord." the What, then, shall wo do? and how shall I tjj,. wo order our \ravers po that they may lie | of accepted? Go io llim in infinite lowliness I ibte and trustfulness. Let the mind and soul risa try. into His blessed presence, and spe k to Him. n," As he is over and always whispering to you, the | , \l?.? bn,.u? , 0f mm Niiiun, ' re_ your requests;" "Call upon Mo;" "Cuiiip to em* Mo;" so ma'iO your re ponaos to those prenj,* clous words, and sny, "Lord, I do ask of sins Thee?I do call?I <lo conic?I do loll Tlioe of all. Bo merciful to mo, and always help me per as I need." Thus "converse" with Him. iven His words to us. p or simiertt, inay l>o convera sidered perpetual words. They arj not inei eium ly once spoken, but always spoken In those loog blissful promLsei which were (li st uttered to the ancient saints, Ho ii ever and always bout caking?sp'akin < to thee. Lot. your respmista#>n 68 he equally cons'ant. Be always conversing ner's with Him. Tell Him everything. "Four men out your heart before Him." Tell him all wive your accreta?your keenest, deepest trials? Here matters which you withhold from your de ircorn eat oavthly friend. Talk with Him of cveryitaca thing that inlerosts you, and f< rgct not that ittle. He is more dieply interested than you in nine those mattei s 1)1 >es He caro for the sj>arslop, row? Does He number.the ha rs of your > the head? Doee He lovo you with an inconc iv' any able love? Then fear not to walk and talk with Him evermore!?Zioria Herald. Walter and William Whits, of Marlboro, Mass., aged eight and sixteen yeat-s, applied a match to a box of powder which they bad saturated with kerosene. The explosion that followed killed both boys. Thomas r. Evans and John Walsh, miners, while engaged in throwing down coal ab lyde Park, Ponn., detached a large slab Thich slipped aDd fell upon them. Evans ras crushed to death. Walsh suffered fatal njuries. After deliberating three hours the jury rought in a verdict acquitting Thomas B. lerr, of Now York city, of complicity in the ribing of the Boodlo Aldermen of 1884 in rder to procure a franchise for the Broaday Surface Railway. whi i.e walking on the tracks near Mauch hunk, Penn., Miss Mable Tuttle, a school acher, was struck by a passenger train and illed. J. P. Underwood, a prominent planter of v> Igffrfedrlit jj i a club, but Underwood finally succeeded i cutting his throat fatally. Underwood* ft shoulder was shot off. Willis Green, Anderson Mitchell and iniel Jones (all colored), were hanged at rkadelpliia, Ark., for the murder of a lored minister named HortonThe house of William Flowers, at Hollow ' ock, Tenn., was burned, and Flowers, hi3 [fo and two children perished in the flames. James S. Clark son received his commisission and immediately took the prescribed th and entered upon his duties as First distant Postmaster-General. Orders have been given to the commandts of navy yards by Secretary Tracy to schargo all susponded employes. It was rmerly the custom to keep the names of c'u suspended employes on the rolls, to bo ken up when wort was resumed. By an explosion of lire damp in a colliery ar Nimes, France, fifteen persons wero led and six injured. 'd Germany nns deefi siAppou uy~snow ?* * >rms. Extensive floods were reported in Galicio. any towns were inundated. The Gladstonian candidate, Mr. Beaufoy, >n a decisive victory at the Kennington ction to the English Parliament; his vote ;s 40K), against 3 foil for Mr. Hope, the nservative. The Friendly Rons of St. Patrick celoatod the birth of their patron at Delmoni's, New York city, and ex-President Cleveud spoke to the toast of "The United ates." A storm accompaniod bv extraordinarily ;h tides, did great damago along the New rsey and I-ong Island coasts. Tbo Life iving Servico station house at Far Rockray was destroyed and trains on tlio Now r?oy Southern Haihvay abandoned. AU e .watering placer. sufTcrol more of loss image. a coniossoa aoianreer iu tin wiiwuuvn i0. IIo had boon 0110 of tho most trusted Hcials ol the bank for over twenty yetus. Governor Taft, of Rhode Island, lias re lived n letter of resignation of his otllco of nited States Senator from Hon. Jonathan haco. lie resigns on accouut of ill health. General Tracy*, tho new Sccrotary of 10 Navy, was tendorod a banquet by his I'.low-townsmen, at tho Hamilton Club, in irooklyn, N. Y. Tiik Oklahoma boomers wore driven out f tho Territory by United States troops. Tiik bark Pettonglll, of Portland, Mo., was vrccked at tho Virginia Capos and fourto?n ives wero lost Deputy United States Maksiial W. A. VIoody, of Port Smith, Ark., has beonmurlered iu Indian Territory by two men lamed Bonnor nnd Hill, whom ho was attempting to arrest He is tho sixteenth Government flli'tCPP - months. Professor Adonija S. Welch, ex-United States Senator for Florida, died a fow days sgo at Pasadena, Cal.aged sixty-eight y'oars. 11F i V V rninc n n/1 favriHa ofA?e?n Kawa Z*% dieted great damage in Southern California. Three lives were lost at Ventura. Changing Frank Mkkk, general manager of the Denver. Texas and Fort Worth Railway Company, has boon tendered the position of Geuoral Superintendent of tta j Railway Mail Service. A battle between tlio followers of Son* oussi and the Mahdists has talc en place at Sinnu, Africa, and tho former wero victorious. Both sides suITored heavy losses. Among the killed were two Mabdist chiefs. Admiral Kroutz has been appointed French Minister of Marine to fill the vacancy caused by tho death of Admiral Juares. The dead body of Miss Helen Buttrock, an American student of music at the Berlin Academy, was taken from the Rivor^Sproa., .. t_Tbo dead girl, who undoubtedly committal ? suicide, came from Milford, N. H. QUADRUPLE MURDER. A Nevada Man Kills His Father-inlaw's Family and Himself At Italian Canyon, Nov., Samuol Kundle killed his father-in-law, George Hooking, anl his brother-in-law, aged fifteen, by shooting them with a shotgun, the charge of shot entering the neck and severing the jugular vein of the former and tearing away the face of the latter. A boy named John King, hearing the shot, came toward the house. He was m?t by Rundlc, holding the gun. The latter asked the boy to shoot him. The boy refused. Bundle then took the boy's horse end rode three miles to the lower ranch, entered the kitchon of tho house, and with a pistol shot Mrs. Hosking in the head and then shot himself. The shooting was the result of a family (liiarrol over a division of property. The LaJIu. m ova Kn.viiwVif. fn A ?lefin etnil an I our uuuira mvw uiwu|,ny w inquest held. SIX LIVES LOST. Wreck or An American Brig Off the Virginia Const. The American brig Agnes Barton, from Nassau to Baltimore, with a oago of pboe. phate rock, has been wrecked on the Virginia coast, one-half mile north of the Dam Neck Life Saving Station, and about fcflr milaasouth of Virginia Beach. Her CapUHh and live of the crew were loat. . . . ?, .-r . ? a