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I i p l!u Noted Washington Sunday Subject, Divine’ “WINGS OK SKKAPU1M." i b? h« covered bin fi»e«, »nd with twain be covered his feet, and with twain he did ily.''—Uniah vh, 3. In a hospital pf leprosy Rood Kintt Usziah had die<l, and the whole land was shadowed with solemnity, and theological and pro phetic Isaiah was thinking uhout reliitloas things, as one is apt to do in time of great national bereavement, and forgetting the presence of his yrife and two sons, who ma ic up hj-i family, ln- Ignadreniu not like the dri ams’of ordinary cfmracter, which gen- erallv come from indigestion, but a vision most instructive, and ugder the touch of the hand of the Almighty. The pidity however learned, reverence for in capacity however fluely ina'tvurat 11, I have none. ' But we want more reverence for Ood, more reverence for the sacraments, more reverence lor the Bible, more rever ence for the pure, more reverence for the good. Rev.-rence a characteristic of ail great nature. You hear H tn the roll of the master oratorios. Ymsec it In the Raphaels and Titians an t Ohlrlan laois. You study it In the architecture of the Aholla s and Christopher Wren*. Ho not be flippant about God. D > not joke about death. l>o not make fun about the Bible. Do not de ride the Eternal. The brightest and might iest seranh cannot look unabashed upon Him. Involuntarily the wings eome up. “With twain he c >vered hi* face.” Who is ibis God before whom the arrogant and Intractable re I’no reverence? There was an engineer by ih- name of Rtraslcraies who was in the employ of Alexander the Great, and he offered to hew a mountain in the shape of his master, the eaiperir, the enormous figure to hold in the left hand a city of 10.00 ' inhabitants, wtiile in the right hand It was to hold a basin large enough to collect all the mountain torrents. Alenin- RELIGIOUS READING. angel place, the ancient ternpli- building . MHHHI grand, awful, majestic. Within that temple der applauded him for hi« Ingenuity, but for- a throne higher and grander than that oc- j bade the enterprise because of _lts costliness. cupitft by any czar or sultan or emperor. In lines On that throne, the eternal Christ, surrounding that thr me, the brightest oeles' tiais, not the cherubim, but higher i ban they, tho most exquisite and radiant of the heav enly inhabitants-the seraphim. They are lied bun called burners because they look like Are— lips of Are, eyes of Are, feet of Are. In nd- ditiou to the features and the limbs, which suggest a human being, there are pinion* which suggest the Hthest, the sw ftest, the most buoyant and the most asplnng of alt unintelligent creation—a bird. Each seraph had >lx wings, each two of the wings for a diAorenf purpose. Isaiah’s dream oulvers nml flushes with these pinions, now folded, now spread, now beaten in locomotion. ••With twain he covered his feet, with twain he covered his face, and with twain he did fly.” The probability it that these wings were not all used at once.’ The seraph standing there near the throne, overwhelmed at the insighiftciiuce of the paths his feet had trodden as compared with the paths trodden by the feet of Ood, and with the lameness of his Immnotlon amonnting almost to decrepi tude as compared with the divine velocity, with feathery veil of angelic modesty hides the feet. “With twain he did cover the feet."' Standing there, overpowered l y the over matching splendors of God's glory and un able longer with the eyes to look upon them and wlsbiuc those eyes shaded from the in sufferable glory, tne pinions gather over the countenance. ‘‘With twain he dldcoverthe face.” Then, as God tells this seraph to go to the farthest outpost of immensity on message of light an 1 love and joy and get back before the first anthem, it does not take the seraph a great while to spread himself upon the air with unlmagined celerity, one stroke of the wing equal to 10,000 leagues of air. ‘'With twain be did fly.” The most practical and useful lesson for you and me, when we see the seraph spread ing his wings over the feet, Is the lesson of humility at imperfection. The brighest angels of God are so far lemeatb God that He charges them with folly, the seraph so far beneath God ami we so far lemeath the •emph In service we ought to be plunged In humility, utter and complete. Our feet, how laggard they have been in the divine ser vice! Our feet, how many mlsstcpe they have taken! Our feet, in how many paths •>f worldllness and folly have they walked! I sound |he praises of the human foot. With that we bait or climb or march. It Is the foundation of the physical fabric. It is the base of a God poised column. With it the warrior braces himself for battle. With it the orator plants h mself for eulogium. With it the toiler reaches bis work. With it the outraged stamps his Indignations, its loss an irreparable disaster, its health an inval- uablo equipment. It you want to know its value, ask the man whose foot paralysis hath veiari, or machinery hath crashed, or surgeon's knife hath amputated. The Bible honors It. Especial enro. “Lest than dash thy foot against a stone." “He will not suffer thy foot to be moved.’' ‘‘Thy feet shall not stumble,” Especial charge, “Keep thy foot when thou grftwt to the house of God.” Especial peril, “Their feet shall slide in due lime." Connected with the world's dissolu tion, “He shall set one foot on the sea and ihe oBmroatho earth.” Give me the history of your foot,and I will give you the history of your lifetime. Tell mo up wiiat stops it hath gone, down what declivities and in what roads and in what directions, and I will know more about you than I want to know. None of us could en dure the scrutiny. Our feet not always in paths of God. sometimes in paths of worldli- iiess. Our feet, a divine and glorious ma chinery for usefulness and work, so olten making misstops.so often going in the wrong direction. God knowing every step, the patriarch saying, “Thou settesr a print on the heels of my-leet." Crimes of the hand, crime* of tho tongue, crimes of the eye, crimee of tho ear uot worse than crimes of the foot. Oh. we want the wings of humility to cover the feet! Ought we not to go into seif abnegation before the ail searching, all scrutinizing all trying eye of God? The seraphs do. How much more we? “With twain he covered his feet.’’ AH this talk about tho dignity of human nature Is braggadocio nad sin. Our nature started at the hand of God regal, but it bos been pauperized. There 1* a well in Bel gium which once had very pure water, and it was stoutly masoned with stouc and brick, but that well afterward became the ceutro of the battle of Waterloo. At the opening of Ihe battle the soldiers with thcirsatiers com pelled the ganfuner, William von Ivylsom, to draw water out of the well for them, aud it was very pure Water. But the battle raged, ami 3A0 dead and half dead were flung into tho well for quick and easy burial, so that tho -wall of’ refreshment became the well of denMt. {nd long after people looked down intt* the well aud they saw the bleached skulls, but no water. Ho the human soul was a well of good, but the nrmiesof sin have foughj around It and fought across it and boen'Slrtln. and It has become a well of skele tons.’ l»ead hojies, lead resolutions, dead opprwlunities, dead ambitions. An aban doned well unless Christ ahull reopen and purify and All it as the well of Belgium never was. Unclean, unclean. Another seraphic posture in the ievt. “With twain he covered the face." Thai means reverence God ward. Never so much irreverence abroad in the world ns to-day. You see it in tho defaced statuary, in the cutting out of figures from flue paintings, in the chipping of monuments for a memento, in thwJaui that military guard must stand at the grave of Lincoln and Garfield, and that old shade trees musi be cut down for fire wood. though Afty George P. Merrlr.es bog tho woodmen to spare the tree, and that calls a corpse a cadaver, nml that speaks of death as going over to the majority, and substi tutes for the reverent terms father and mothei “Ihe old man” and “theold woman," and And* nothing impressive in the ruins of Baal bee or jpM.columtia of Karnac, and sees no dtffereujM la th*Sabbath from other days except it nlloyrd more dissipation, and roads the Uti le ia What is called higher criticism, making jt not the word of God. hut a good book with shine fine things in it. Irn.vcnMf'b'WeTcr so much abroad. How many take mti name of God tn vain, how manv trivial things sal 1 about the Abnu-litv! Not vi i tin c to have God in tile World, they roll up u>i idea of seutimentulicy and hu- manUuruui’sm aud impudence aud imbecll- itywhd’ewH it God. • No wings of reverence oveethit fucg, no taking off of shoes on holv ground. You can tell from the Way they talk they could have made a better world than this; And that the God o! the Bible shocks every sense of proprtetry. They talk of the loVflbY God In a way that shows you they be lieve It does not make any difference how bad«*dnw iv here h» wUl come in at the shfmdff gate: -They talk of the love oi God in away Which shows yon they think it is s Gjfll delivery for all the abandoned !iq scoundrelly of the universe. No iinent‘hereafter for any wrong done ere. CGeJ > .. . Reverence b>r sham, reverence for the old wretjt because it is old, reverence for stu- Yet I have to tell vou that our King holds tn om> hand all the cities of the earth, and ail tho oceans, while he has the stars of heaven for hi* tiarn. Earthly power goes from hand to hand from Henry I to Henry II and Henry III, from Charles 1 to Charles II. from Louts t to Louis II an I Lout* III, hut from everlast ing to everlasting is God. Go 1 the Amt, Go t the last. God the only. He has onetelescope, with which he seee everythtutf - bis omnis cience. He has one bridge, with which he crosses everything—hi* omnlpresenc•. He has one hammer, with which he builds everything—his omnipotence. Put two tablespoonfuls of water In the palm of your hand, aud It will overflow, but Isamh Indicates that God puts the Atlantic, and the Paciflc, and the Arctic, and the Antarc tic, and the Mediterranean, and the Black Sea. ami all ihe waters of th* earth In the hollow of His hand. The Angers tho beach on one side.the wrist the beach on the other. “He holdetb tne water tn the hollow of His hand.” A« you take a pinch of salt or powder be tween your thumb and two fln rers.so Isaiah indicates God takes up the earth. He meas ures the dust of the earth, the original tnere In ticatlng that Ood takes ah the dust of all the continems bet w.iea the tbum > and two lingers. You wrap around your hand a blue ribbon Ave times, ten times. You say it is Ave hand breadths or it is ten hand breadths. So Indicates the prophet God winds the blue ribbon of the sky around His haul “He meteth out the heavens with a span." You know that balances are made of a beam suspended in the middle, with two basins at the extremity of equal heft In that way what vast haft has been weighed! But what are all the balances of earihiy manipulation compared with the balance* that Isaiah saw suspended when he saw God putting into the scales the Alps and the Apennines aud Mount Washington ami the Hierro Nevadas? You see the earth had to be ballasted. It would not do to have too much weight in Europe, or too much weight In Asia, or too much weight in Africa or in America, so when God made the mountains he weighed them. The Bible distinctly says so. God knows the weight of the great ranges that cross the continents, the tons, the pounds avoirdupois, the ounces, the grains, the millegr tms—just how much they weighed then and just how mu h they weigh now. “He weighed the mountains In scales and the bills in a balance.” Oh, what a God to run against! Oh, what a God to disobey! Ob, what a God to dishonor! Ob. what a God to defy! The brightest, the mightiest ungel takes no familiarity with G *d. The wings of reverence are lifted, "With twain he covered the face." Another seraphic posturein the text. The seraph must not always stand still. He must move, and it must Ira without clumsiness. There must be celerity and bjauty In the movement. “With twain be did fly." Cor- rsetton, eXhi’aVatlon. Correction at ear slow gait, for we only crawl in the service when we ought to fly at the divine bidding. Exhilaration in the fact that the soul has wings as the seraphs have wings. What is a wing? An instrument of locomotion. They may uot be like ser iphs’ wing, they may not lie like birds’ wing, but the soul has wing*. G<'dsaysso. “He shall mount up on wings us eaglee." We are made in the divine image, and God lias wings. The Bible says so. “Healing In His wines.” “t T nder the shadow of His wings.” “Under'/hose wings hast thou come to trud.” The soul with folded wiug now, wounded wing, broken wing, bleeding wing, caged wing. Aye. I have It now' Caged within bars of bone and under curtain* of flesb, but one day to be fret*. I bear the rustle ot pinions in Heagrave’s poem .which we some times sing: Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings. I hear the rustle of pinions ia Alexander Pope’s stanza, where he says: 1 mount, I fly. O death, where is thy victory? Oh, people of God, let us stop playing the fool and prepare for rapturous flight. When your soul stands on the verge of this life, and there ore vast precipices beneath and sapphtred domes above, which way will you fly? Will you swoop, or will you soar? Will you fly downward, or will you ily upward? Everything on ihe wing this day bidding us aspire. Holy Spirit on the wiug. Angel of the New Covenant on the wing. Time on the wing, Hying away from us. Eternity on the wiug, flying toward us. Wings, wings, wings! Live so near to Christ that when you are dead people standing by vour lifeless body will not soliloquize, saying; “What a dis appointment life was to him! How averse he was to departure! What a pity it whs he had to die! YYhat an awiul calamity!” Bather standing there m iy they see u sign more vivid on your still face than the vestiges of pain, something that will indicate that It was a happy exit, the clearance from oppressive quarantine, the cist-off chrysa lis, the molting of the faded and the useUss, and the ascent from malarial valieys to bright, shining mountain tops, and be led to say, as they stand there contemplating your humility aiid yonrrevuren eiu life and your happiness in death, “With twain lie covered the feet, with twain lie covered his face, with twain he did fly.” Wings, wings, wings! BUYING DOLLAR HORSES. Kentucky Farmer Fatten* Hi* llux* ou Equine Flesh. Every Imaginable kind of horse save a good and serviceable one is taken to George town, Ky.. ou court days to be traded off. Frequent trades are made for twenty-flve cents to boot and many amusing sights are witnessed on “jockey row," as it is called. In connection with this trading in worn-out horses a new industry has sprung up. A man irom Woodtord County was in the trading crowd buying all the horses he could got for $1 per head. He kills them, feeds the flesh to his hogs, sells the hides and bones and finds it profitable. Whenever he buy* a horse for a dollar and be can sell It for two he lets it go, otherwise it ia fed to the bogs. The Emperor’s Sarcasm Whl'e taking hi* dailv constitutional with the Enpress in the i’hiergarteu, Berlin, Emperor William of Germauy passed a laborer,who starv'd at him but did not salute. His Majesty turned, called upon the man to halt, and then, touching his hat in military fashion, said: “My man, if you do not wish to salute your Emperor, at least you might pay proper respect to the Empress." Then, turning on his heel, the Emperor left the man standing in a state ot considerable astonishment. Injured by a Pigeon. Mrs. Cora Strenehard, ot Kremis, Mercer County, was struck in the face by a flying pigeon at Sharon, Penn. The woman's neck was broken, but the physicians encased it in a plaster ot paris mold, anu hopes are enter tained for her recovery. The pigeon was Before we knew that o'er our days of sun shine Could come such shade, Before we knew that in our midst an Hi* home had made, How calm we were In our serene content ment— Our skies how blue— How light we held his living, loving pres ence, Before we knew! But now the sorrow of a vain regretting, ‘•Had we but known,” Throbs sadly through our life of seeming calmness In undertone. Ob, could we hear once more the voice now silent- bo dear, so true— 4s in the old sweet days oi love and glad ness Before we knew! — Marv Bingham Wilson, in Congregationai- UL THE APFBUriCESKir OF rREACHINO. Fullness of knowledge saves a minister from the temptation of resorting to bizarre methods to attract a congregation. No mat ter how clever a man may be, he cannot long idde from himself or from others the fact of his intellectual superficiality and limitation; and I believe that many a preacher who resorts to eccentric and sen sational stratagems does so from the con sciousness of the meagreness and frality of his theological and philosophical resources. No truly great actor becomes a Blomiin walk ing a tight rope to draw a crowd ; no truly great singer blacks his face aud joins the minstrels to secure popularity ; no great art ist renounces academical law to astonish the world by daubing nightmares. Men of a much inferior order condescend to theatric cals -, gifted men have no need. And it is the same with respect to the Christian pul* pit. Henry Ward Beecher did not resort to flags and dulcimers ; Bishop Hiirpson suc ceeded without dressing himself in Oriental costume; Joseph Parker gets on without a magic lantern; B. W. Dale used no stag* property,posture or passion, and Maciaren discovers no anxiety to straddle the latest sensation. But the preacher who is con scious of deficiency in the deeper qualifica tions of his vocation seeks to awaken and maintain public interest by eccentricities and extravagances in the subjects he chooses or ‘in the (manner in which he treats them. Our congre gations desire above all things clear, deep, Scriptural truth, and any ministry ot real teaching power Is sure of perennial popu larly. The interest of the multitude in Christian doctrine is not speculative and arbitrary; it is personal, practical, passion* ate. The people recognize in our doctrine the things by which they live, and he who can stale evangelical truth with lucidity and feeling will find bis ministry influential when the mere rhetorician and sensation alist have passed away.—W. L. Watkinson, D. D. (London), in Methodist Review. Faith is not a state of inaction, security and contented ness ; it is a constant reach ing forth towards a higher and fuller life. The least exercise of it is product!te of wonderful results. God has set such a value upon the least grain ot faith, and given it such a power, that it can overcome moun tainous diflloulties and effect extraordinary transformations. But God means that the seed should become a tree. Plant a seed in a flower-pot that is full of soil, motionless, changeless, inert, that would remain as it is forever, and at once the presence of the seed in the soil creates a vortex ot motion and change. The seed, as it germinates aud grows, draws the particles of the soil into its own composition and structure, imparts to them a higher nature,organizes the sand and make* it living ma.erial, attracts the dew and tho suhshtnu;'und brli'ge all powers of nature to its help that it may grow. And so plant a seed of faith in Christ in a dead human heart, and what a change and commotion it causes ! It raises up the nature into newness of life; it lays ail the powers of heaven and earth under contri bution for its help and susjpnance. But as it grows it accomplishes greater wonders in the tree-stage than in the seed-stage. Tin* produce of the minute grain of mustard seed is 11m greatest of herbs, occupying a large space, and doing a great work. Look what a tree docs in the economy of nature ! How it forms the source of rivers aud streams, how it regulates the seasons, and alters tho climate of the locality ! And more astonishing s i.l is tho effect of faith when it reaches the tr* e-stage and becomes u resting-place for weary creatures % its boughs, and gives refreshment to multitues by its shade and fruiL -Hugh MacMillan, D. D., in the Quiver. Since all things are God’s servants, all things must necessarily be His messengers, and therefore every event and dispensation of life bos its message for us, let the aspect of the “messenger” be what it may. Many of our choicest gifts from our dearest friends come to us by the hands of very rough-look ing messengers and are wrapped up in coarse brown packages. Do we, because of this, “despise and misuse" the messen gers and refuse to receive and open tho pack ages? My neighbor who treats me unkindly, or my friend who wrongs me. or my enemy who rungligns me, have each one as really a message from God for mo as the clergyman who preaches to me, or the Christian friend who gives me a tract. And as I would not “despise or misuse” the one, neither must 1 the other. We Hftle know of the rich blessings we lose because we thus despise and misuse the “servants” who bring them. Perhaps the gift of potience, for which you have prayed long and appar ently in vain, is held in the hand of that very disagreeable inmate of your household, whose presence has seemed to you such an unkind infliction. Or it may be that the victory over the world, for which your soul has fervently hungered, was shut up in that very disappointment or loss against which you have relralied with such bitterness that it has brought your s >ul into grievous dark ness instead.—Hannah Whttall Rrai’h. , m killed. Here i« u lighthouse-keeper on tho coast. The sailor in the darkuess cannot see tire keeper, unless indeed the shadow of the keeper obscures for a moment the light. What the sailor sees is the light, and he thanks, not the keeper, but the power that put the light on that dangerous rock. So the lightkeeper tends his light in the dark, and a very lonely and obscure life it is. No one mounts the rock to praise him. The vessels pass in the night, with never a worJ of cheer. But the life of the keeper gets its dignity, not because he shines, bin because his light guides other lives; and many a weary captain greets that twinkling light across the sea, and seeing its good worb gives thanks to his Father which Is in beaten.—Dr. I’eabodv. ron TWO REASONS. two reasons every conscientious young nought to pledge himself to total abstb n-u.ee. First, for his own sake, for ha doesn’t know how soon he may become a tippler. Secondly, for the sake of others whom he may tempt to ruin by his examplsi Ihe reform of inebriates is difficult and rare, riie one time to stop drinking treacherous intuxicouts is to stop before you begin. THE TEUPlRASCE CACSE OAtNTXO. Governor Wolcott. oS Massachusetts, in his message satfli “I think no well-informed iiersoti can doubt that the cause of temper* once gains steadily, although the gain may bn slow. Legislation Is restrictive, supervis ion is more strict than formerly, intoxioa- Hon is less generally condoned as an inci dent of sociability or a pardonable weakness, and ia more clearly seen to be a vice in itself and the prolific parent of crime and wretch edness. It is not probable that our comma* nity will tolents any reversal of this prog* 1 rues." UM WOH FROM HE PM! DANGER SIGNALS. ‘‘My People ars Destroyed for Lack oi Knowledge.” Hossa 4:6. We are all quite familiar with the signal, lights along the railways. The green light signals caution, the red light means danger, and the white light shines out the message: “all right, com* ahead.” The aea also has Us warnings. The light-house upon th« heights send* its bright path across the dark waters. The bell-t uoy sounds out its mourn ful tale over the sunken rocks where noble ships have gone to ruin. Travelers upon the Alps observe somHimes a black crosa mark ing the spot where some daring explorer has last his life. How careful we are to observe these sig ns s which stand out on railway, sea and mountain; yet how careless we are of life’s warning signals. There is many a flaming signal against the rapid rate at which we live. Time, we say, is money, as though money could measure the highest values. Life in the last analysis is resolved into a question of speed, and ws move along under the highest pressure, limbing, if not altogether abolishing the day of rest, and run a mad race with planets. A strong man under forty was accustomed during many months ot the year to leave borne at 6 a. m. and return from business at II p. m. In about three years his body grew •o tired that be retired from business alto gether and is taking a long rest in a quiet place under tbs sod. A manufacturer, watching the strife from which he most timely withdrew, tells of five business men under forty-four, in the circle of his personal acquaintance who within one year died of brain or kidney disease or went to the mad house, all from overwork. Wall street puts its philosophy of life in a sentence, “five years Is a lifetime.” When Frank James, the notorious bandit, surrendered himaelf to the Governor of Missouri, he explained that he was tired of a life of taut nerves, of day-riding and night- riding, of constant listening for foot-falls, rustling leaves, breaking twigs and creaking doors. Tbs life of many a better man is of equal tension; nerves keyed as taut as the strings of Ole Bull's violin; watching against ambusb, surprises and disaster in the deoeit- uiuess of business and the subtlety of com petition. The sleep of such a one is not restful. Even in his dreams he Is on the road and S aining tme galloping through the night like Lazeppa. bound helpless on the back of a flying wild horse, bach a man spending his first night at a mountain house where it was the custom to call the guests, to see the sun rise, was startled from his half-aleep by the porter’s sharp rap, and cried out “What’s the matter*?” "Day’s breakin’ sah.” “You don’t say: what are his assets and liabili ties?” Tne poor man had not yet pulled his weary brain out of Wall street A sadden collapse was explained by the Significant remark that the victim bad work ed at his business steadily twenty-flve hours a day. Wbat other result could be expected? It was just such Instances, all too common, Wbloh caused a prominent physi cian to remark, “Men do not ule in these days, they simply kill themselves.” When the machinery neats its bearings it is time to Stop and give It a chance to cool Moses never had a truer friend than Ho- bab, who pointed out to him the necessity of a wise economy of life’s forces. He read the signals. Our Lord himself was the noblest example of the proper care and tight use of the body. His hours of work and hours of rest were most wisely adjusted. “Come ye yourselves apart, and rest awhile.” So spake he to his disciples, that Iffe might not lose its poise, it# power and efficiency. altogether free freayhaste, “Are elvoliours in the'*'mty.” There is time enough for all life’s duties, for all of life's privileges, if one but finds tne true ad* justment There is a warning signal from another quarter altogether. Modern life ia in danger from the continuous strain of occupation which breaks it as well as from a consuming passion for amusement which dissipates and weakens it. The ohe extreme Is often but a reaction from the other. The line of safety is in true poise of of sou), a just balance between occupation and recreation. But recreation must bo wholesome and restora tive. Amusement of some sort we must have; but there should always be n ibougut- ful purpose at the core ot it; it should always be touched with a sense of our resj onsibili'ty to ourselves, to society and to God. Real nobleness centers not in self-indul gence but in self-control. Whatever breaks down that spirit of self-control will bring evil in its train. It is not necessary to laud in the music hails and saloons to become tbo slaves of pleasure and enslaving self-in dulgence A craving for sensmtl excitement can kill the nobler impulse and quench the aspirations for better things. A little girl once • listened to a sermon on the Apostle’s expression, “I keep my body under.” When questioned about the sermon she gave a revised version of the text which hits the center of the Apostle's thought, which was this; “The Bible says we must keep our souls on top.” True enough it Is the message of the Book, of prophet and apostle, the imperative of religion, "Keep the soul on top.” Let business, social re laxations, the wealth, glory and fulness ol our modern life uplift the nobler manhood and not submerge it. Be wise in the knowl edge of true self-preservation. NArarALi Luooocx. TEMTEBAWCE NEWS AND NOTE*. Whisky that will cook an egg will cook a stomach. Fill man with whisky, and be cad give the pig [joints. When women in high life give wiqe parties the devil examtnos his coal bins. One swallow does not make a spring, but several swallows make a fail. The poor drunkard, seeing double, thinks himself rich when he counts his money, but he soon discovers his poverty. Man is said by one of oiir exchanges to ro- seinbie a fish in this that, like u fish, ha would never get into very serious trouble if he kept his mouth shut. The old question, “which Is the mightier, the pen or the sword?” is last becoming ob solete. The fact is neither seems to be "in It” with the whisky bottle, remarkqthe Index. There is steadily cumulative testimony, by many scientific experts, that beer, which the brewers boast oi as a wholesome “temper ance” beverage, is lu reality more prolific in physical injury than the stronger liquors. Thousands of dollars are spent annually, as is well known, for Intoxicating driri..; tho people who drink, in the majority of cases, spend so much for liquid damnation that they have nothing left for other articles, scarcely the necessities of life. A lot of drunkenness in England is hidden through the prevailing custom of carrying urink into homes at night, and the tremen dous amount of drinking in the clubs is also hidden by the fact that these dubs tire open in the oarly morning when most people ot sober habits ore in bed. If a man were to buy a hat.n pair of t rousers or a coat, and were to discover that he paid five times Us value, he would get very mad indeed, but the same man would come out of a saloon, and thongh ht> recalLs that he has paid five times the value of what he has drank, he will remain as patient as Job. The Queen Regent of Spain, who will coon have a motor carriage, will be the first European sovereign to use one It will be known a* an “electric victo ria." TEMPERANCE. A no Mis life mav there not twelve IMPORTANT TO DRINKERS. A man who drinks whisky may feci awhile fnsky. And paint the town brilliantly rod; But soon in the gutter with misery utter Ho will curse aud wish himself dead. A man who drinxs brandy may feel like a dandy, As long as the smell’s on his breath; But soon in tho tremens, snakes, bogies and demons Will chase him aui scare him to death. A man who drinks wine may feci very One, Aud play funny antics and shout; But for it he’ll pay with headaches next day, And die when he’s young, from the gout. A man who drinks gin with pleasure will grin, And nave what he calls a good time; Till with a red nose and dirty old clotnes He, homeless, will beg for a dime r A man who drinksbeer feels good fora year And thinks it don’t hurt him a bit; Till, bloated and red, he goee to his bed. Or falls on the street in a fit. But he who drinks water, as every ono oughter, Enjoys to the utmost his life; He’s happy and healthy, respected and wealthy, And loved by his children and wife. —H. C. Dodge, in the Chicago Sun. BISTORT OF FOUR ItniNKs In an exchange we find the following iestl* mony of a thoughtful policeman, who was inclined to look below the misery and crime which came in his way to Uni their cause. He says I was once standing in front of Tuft’s saloon, when the barkeeper set down a blua bottle on the counter and said. “There are I nst four drinks in that.” It occurred to me ’d like to trace up them four drinks—where they wont and what they did. Well, a woman got the first glass. She wasn’t an old woman, nor used to whisky; about thirty years old, and been pretty once, and accustomed to having a gay time, I sup- K ». She was on her way home from her d day’s work, tired anil cold, and the whisky wa" a temptation. Jt would take the place ot tho dunce and theatre and fun. She turned down the bystreet and stopped nt the door of a snug little house. I knew her husband. Craffs, the carpenter, a cheerful, hard-working fellow. He opened the door and her baby ran out to meet ner. She struck it down to tho ground with an oath. Her husband looked at her and fell back, as though he, too, had been struck. Then be picket! up the child and carried it into tho pretty, warm room. I saw the moth'-r lying stretched across the hearth as though she was dead. The second drinic out of tho bottle, the bar keeper told me, was given to old Utacy. He is nearly seventy and soaked with liquor; blood, stomach and brain poisoned witn it. There's not a healthy atem of flesh left in bis body, not a good feeling in his heart, nor manly thought in his head. This drink only helped, with all the river that he has drunk, to kill him surely inch bv inch. Buy this time X had go; back to the saloon, and in a few momeuts I saw a young man named Waters stop for the next. Ho had been drinking already, I ct lied to him. I used to know Waters, a young clerk with a good salary, had a nice little home, and pietty wife aud babies. He’s quarrelsome in drink, and u glass or two upset* him. "Waters,” 1 said, “don’t drink that; you have had enough.’’ But he laughed, took bis drink, und went down the street. A few minutes later I heard a row and followed oici. He had picked a quarrel with ono of hts friends and shot him dead. Waters was sentenced to ten years; his homo was broken d: his wife takes in washing to keep her Idren from starving. There was one drink left inthebottle. An our later a young lad caipo in, a bright- ced boy, the son of Dr. Bunker; He’s about sixteen now. I’ve watched him grow up since he was a baby in his protty lace dresses. I know what he (s to his mother.; They have but this ono child. I think they never hear of a good or great man that they do not fancy Jim will be Hko him. He tossed off tho drink and went down the' street,, with a red fkce aud leering, stupid eyes. Ho is on the sum " road ns Winters and old Stacy. They aro a little ahead ot. him. I only traced up those four drinks; but I know '.her.' is not a drop of-liquor whicu goes out of Tuft's saloon which does not help to carry discomfort, ill-temper, misery, dis ease. poverty and disgrace into some wretched, unfortunate home. CLEAR TUIKOS FOB LITTLE READERS. It is very clear that if I never drink in toxicating liquors I shall never become a drunkard. It is very clear that if I never 'use Intoxi cating drink I shall never be guilty of help ing to make others drunkards. It is very clear that if I never go into drinking companies, I shall escape many of the temptations and snares that are laid for tho young. • is verr clear that if I drink intoxicating ’ ’ow^iearu f“ UKsAt <,p '‘ to reduce this 1 : t lever attempts U ist see these £ The Knife Reaches Every BARTOW SAGE AGREES WITH REEB IN DEFENSE OF POE. 11 DISCUSSION OF POEMS AND POETS. at Th«s deughti/s of the Prince of Walea could •wlm belorc they could read. be At ■j mi lar ami How many would be in comfortable circum stances but for this money spent in drink! Far better Indeed did they bant the sums. The saloon-keeper is the hardest taskmaster. The moment jieople take the pledge they learn the value of money, and afterward learn to work for themselves and not the sa loon-keeper. ' WDpuBMl«a aqj,—'ttiBiad* if|odottotn aqt jdopv oi jseivi eg) S| viseng 'S)|tu; snouaNip •at pas vea|M jo sjeutjefp oqj oojj fttjj.\t:«q ‘tqoqtKqv |ti|jisnpu| jo Bepn n«, £(odnn •otd u pocvojexe truq aonjs puu jazjiAig ’uoivrajvp tqqi ut u»nv) vaaq OAvqsdeis pepia -op sajvpj nv-edoma Jaqjo nt 'e|vs pu» 'non -v.iptiaoj 'cunvnqnuvm jo A|odouom onus' jo tnaisds oqi A'ig3nojoqi oiBajisoAUj oj jsvai ;u eaeodoxd mou aouvjj 'luapisojj oqi Jo Do]j -onus oqi poAfMOJ ApvaJ|U esq sjqx vujsttw jo adnj» papip oqi tuoj; op mu auiM jo ous oqi ottt« (oujs.u oi pus g|oqoa|v snopieja •[ep osaqi jo apts aqi qqtqojd oj notnuepis -uco japan mwq svq too ford s amii amoe ao j •uoutueiinpv aoj posn aati qotijAv soonuis -qns aaqio pus ‘sooisjod ‘pooM moij jogoa -pi jo spajja shad aqi .vq.4uBiCKaJs9 rm: ’sons rJOAaq aqoqosqs jo a>mqu oqi dq posnso eozu •AwQoeepu qtm oomuj jo«jeiuj» pas aetnoq -qnd damn peuaiq3|jj oasq suspjisiisis pas 'spHDBjo tnn[Asv-aavnii‘stf«|o[sdqa jo syodeq 'tnatqoad oovJi-aonbq oqi qp* Saqtttuiv B[‘ivoey pus otaojibCq sapevaj joj 'eooiuji -rorhxj 'johooit a ax Merchant—What position do yon de sire in oar eetabUsbmept, sir? Collegq (iradoate—Oh, something like confiden tial adviser or general manager.’ Mer chant-Good! You may have both Jot*. I will make you aa office boy.—Judge. . j>r. Clilvers, According to Best Authority, Did Not Inspire “The Haven’’—Letter From Mr. J. P. Grave*. If my good friend Wallace Reod bad not come forward as Poe's defender, I should have refrained from further mention of Dr. Thomas Holley drivers. It seemed to me that enough had been written by outside t gties to provoke a clearer expose from his kindred or more inti mate-friends. There Ls still a shadow over his relations to Edgar A. Poe. That they were personal friends is proven, but as to who preceded in that peculiar style of lyric poetry is not proven. I have an interesting letter from a cultur ed old gentleman of College Park, Mr. James P. Graves, father of John Temple Graves, who says that while a college boy on his re turn home to Washington, Wilkes county, he visited Dr. Chivers and had a conversa tion with him. He says: “This conversation awakened in me the liveliest interest. He spoke of an essay or criticism he had just written for tho Houth- ern Literary Messenger, of Richmond, insti tuting a comparison of the literary merits of the poets, Byron and Shelley. The impres sion made on me was that it was a mastei- ful production. Ho spoke of his ‘Lost Pielades’and other poems; said he had just received a letter from Poe, and I think he read it to me, and he mentioned correspon dence with other distinguished men of the north. “The picture given of him in the Consti tution Is most accurate. His complexion was dark especially so under the eyes. “The idea that Dr. Chivers inspired‘The Haven’ or any way aided In Its production was not in that day entertained by any on* so far us I knew. “Dr. driver's style of talking was very ornate, and he appeared familiar with the arts and sciences and to be a very erudite scholar. I used to wonder why he was not more recognized by the learned of. both sexes, but supposed it was because he was something of a recluse, and preferred to revel in his own dreamy and poetical thoughts. There was no show of wealth about him, nor did he seem to care for any. Long after that he removed to Decatur, where he died and was buried. Mrs. Chi- veis was a cultured and most estimable lady. For further information, I refer you to Dr. F. T. Willis, of Richmond, Va., who was a half brother to the late Samuel Bar nett, of Washington, Ga., and also to Judge William Reece and Rev. F. T. Simpson, of Washington.” So it seems that if Dr. Chivers did not himself bring charges of plagarism against Poe, but remained his friend and oorres- S ondent, the bill should be “nol prossed.” lore especially is this so since Mr. Graves, himself then a young man of classical cul ture and a contemporary, never heard of such a charge, and Poe’s biographer In Appleton makes mention of a life of Poe yet to be published that was written by Dc Chivers. When I last wrote on this subject it was my impression that Dr. Chivers was Mr. Poe’s senoir not only in years, but In poeti cal work, and as they were bosom friends in New York, that Poe drew hLs inspiration from the doctor; but more mature reflection satisfies me that Wallace Reed is right. My wife says he is. She has but little patience with people who seek to rob the dead, or who destroy the idols of her youth. , Ever since she used to recite “WHH*m Tell,” the hero of the lakes, as her Friday evening speech at school she has Wen mad with the man who first discovered that , there was no such hero, or if there was ho never shot an apple from off Iris boy’s head. Poe was certainly a gifted genius, for his prose is as marvelous as his poetry. Both are artistic, ingenious, dreamy and of the borders of fairy land. But they live in the admiration more than in the heart. For poems that charm our human nature and linger in the soul of memory 1 would rather frad Goldsmith, Gray, Cbwpen, Coleridge, Burns aud Tom Hood than any others. Byron’s are grand and stately in their beauty, but do not melt down wit hip us and make us better, kinder and more loving. The most beautiful lyric poem ever writ ten is, I think, Coleridge's “Genevieve.” When I was a young man I read it with supreme delight and it has not yet lost its charm. My sympathy for love and lovers is , still alive and glowing and my soul is thrill ed with ecstacy when I read how lie won his “bright and iieauteous bride.” That poem and Goldsmith’s “Hermit” I committed to memory more than half a century ago and I dearly love to recall them. . - ., .. For solemn, serious meditation on the vanity 'of earthly things there is no poem equal to Gray’s “Elegy.” ■, For home and heart Burns leads all in 1 tenderness. . ,. , - .For exquisite pathos that appeals to our arity and our pity there is nothing in the i iglish language so affecting as Hood’s opg of the Shirt.” 'n this side of the water’ w’d’ bdve some poets whose works have stood and will tinue to stand the test of time. Marco czaris is suldimity Itself. Jn thought and ution as a single poem It stands alone i unrKaled. I would raiber have join ed it than to have been Wellington at iterloo. mehow I have no taste for poetry that a to strain for language or that has to ut the dictionary for unusual or uncom- m words, such as aiden, gloaming, sheen, Nor for poetry that has to strain for r mes. It reminds me of the freshman's it effort: ’ • “Daddy built a well sweep, The wind blew it down—sheep.” .The rhyme should bo as natural as the ‘utimeut. All of our best hymns have been handed uuwn to us from famous English authors. With l>ut a few exceptions there have been none written within the century. Did these old authore exhaust the field or has the spirit of sacred poetry departed? ' WTifr " writes a hymn now? But even some pf these old popular English hymns are quite faulty 4 or unfortunate in expression. When 1 was ahoy I used to hear “Come thou fount of every blessing” sung very often in our church and I got th,e idea into my head that angels’ tongues wero made of fire, for the hymn saVs, “Hting by flaming tongues < above ” I did not like that nor do I Hkp Jt yet. That kind of mtpjjc is a little too hot' for mortals to appreciate and adds nothing to the attractiveness of heaven. ”• • I reckon I am hypercritical almut such things, but I can’t help It. When the smiles in verse are unnatural they distwsu me* As muck as I admire Longfellow I have never been reconciled to the lineft: “As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.” There is nothing like the falling of dark* nees In that to me. It is a strain of thought: might as well have said, “From a buMarfi in his flight,” and that would have been horrid. The coming -of darkness is a big thing and shrouds the earth from horizon to horizon, but the falling of a stray feather from a bird is a very little thing—too little for a comparison. Rut I reckon It is mean to find fault with a poqfcwho wrote so many > beautiful poems. I was only ruminating Sometimes h change of Expression brings us , dqfrn Rttddffriy from the sublime to the ridic ulous. Webster’s last words “dfere whin* "Boys, I’m not dead yet,” ami all,the solem nity disappeared—Bill Arf, in Atlanta Cm* stltutiou. 1 “ A • • K”- AMIW