WITH LOVE'S LEADING. II Love'll only lead ms I'll never ask tho If Love'll only lead mo—will hear the pray way— era I pray, Or if It's wild with Winter or blossom-blown In even the darkest midnight my soul shall with May. dream of day ; If thorns —I shall not heed them—if roses— The thorn shall feel the blossom—the night well-a-day ! the morning's ray ; If Love'll only lead mo I'll never ask the If Love'll only lead mo I'll never ask the way. way. —F. L. Btanton, in Atlanta Constitution. IP At the Last floment. J Jj BY W. PF.TT IUPOE. F There are still people who talk of Wellington and 1815, but it is now generally understood that the real battle of Waterloo takes place every Saturday morning at the station of that name, when the special trains start for South Africa. It is a des perate struggle while it lasts, and the uniformed men have an exceedingly warm time of it, but they have al ways conquered before, and this en courages and gives them enthusiasm. Mr. John Beste—the name v. as on the leather label of his single portman teau—Mr. John Beste, down in good time before the real tussle began, looked on with interest. He was a tall, reserved-looking man, with a short beard and the brown complexion that comes to men who have looked at the South African sun. "No one to see me off," said John Beste. (A short mother was stepping on tiptoe to kiss a burly youth, and the sight gave him thoughts.) "Of course there is no one to see me off," he continued, argumentatively. "Why should there be?" Mr. John Beste placed his portman teau in the corner of a tirst-class com partment and laughed a little bitterly at his grumbled soliloquy. A light touch 011 his arm made him wheel round. The sound of a soft voice made him Hush. "Mr. Beste!" "Miss Langham! Are you here to say good bye to me?" "That was the idea, "said the young woman, brightly. "I suppose there are others. How long before your train goes?" "Only twenty minutes, Miss Lang ham." "Only twenty minutes? I am sorry that you are going so quickly. And you will see Mr. Charterhouse, I suppose?"—she stepped aside to avoid a juggernaut trolley of luggage "as soon as you arrive?" she re sumed. "I can't possibly avoid that. Is Mrs. Langham here?" "My aunt does not know that T have come down. Did you want to see her, Mr. Beste?" "Her presence," he said, gravely, "is not indispensable to my happi ness." "I'm afraid that you are inclined to be a little unjust to her. You don't know her as well as I do, Mr. Beste." "That is so. But Mrs. Langham has made quite a confidant of me (lur ing the time that I have been here, and and well, I think I understand her." "I should like to know what you talked about. It occurred to meat din ner last night that " "Upon my word, Miss Langham, I have half a mind to tell you." "Half a iniud is plenty, Mr. Beste. I have a special reason for wanting to know. My dear aunt has not always the best tact in the world." "That," he said, dryly, "occurred to me." "Was it of me that she was talking, I wonder? Was 1 the object?" "It was of you," he said. "And my aunt said?" "Am t bound to answer these ques tions, my lord?" A baud of Hebrew financial gentle men c.inie along the crowded platform, forming an entourage to some impor tant individual in their ceutre. With the enterprise of their race,they forced the other passengers aside, and Mr. John Beste and Miss Langham were separated in the commotion. "Yon are bound," said the young Portia, returning, "to answer all the questions that are put to you for the next fifteen minutes." "Mrs. Langham," said Mr. John Beste, shifting his rug from one arm to the other and bending a little closer to the bewildering hat and the charm ing face that it selfishly attempted to hide, "Mrs. Lnngliam was extremely anxious that I should convey certain information to Mr. Charterhouse. As manager of Mr. Charterhouse's valu able mine, Mrs. Langham seems to have thought that I should be a vari able—what shall I say?—a valuable fellow-conspirator." "Goon," she said,quickly and v ith great concern. "I wonder whether you can guess what I am going to say?" "I hope lam not gueSsing rightly. It is too terrible!" "Mrs. Langham was good enough to say that for anything I could say to my—my master, Mr. Charterhouse, that would assist the object she had in view I should be well repaid. This was, of course, very generous of your aunt." "Goon, Mr. Beste." The time was flying. Passengers were settling down in their compart ments, and at every window was a bunch of heads. There were tears, too, because some of those on the plat form—parents saying goodby to sons and wives saying adieu to husbands— were sufficiently old-fashioned to pos sess emotions. "And what I had to do was this: Mr. Charterhouse is, as you know, a bachelor." "Mr. Charterhouse may be an old maid for all I know or care," she said, hotly. "And I—l was to use my influence with Charterhouse—which is.l admit, 1 considerable—to induce him to come over here to—see Miss Langham." "And buy her, I suppose," she ex claimed, trembling with excitement, but not allowing her voice to raise it self. "To liny me and to sign the agreement at St. George's, Hanover square." "I think," lie said, apologetically, "that your aunt is very anxious that yon should make a good marriage." "These good marriages are all bad ones," declared Eva Langham, hotly. "Mr. Beste, you must help me. I cannot allow my aunt to make me ap pear shameful and ridiculous in peo ple's eyes. You must promise not to say a word to Mr. Charterhouse about me. I don't kuow him, and I don't want to know him." "He saw you once, I think, when you were a girl at school." "I beg of yon, Mr. Beste, to do this for me. I shall marry—when Ido marry—just whom 1 like, and I will not consider any one whom I don't like." "I am glad to hear you say so." "I should not dream of saying any thing else." "I thought, from what your aunt said, that you understood " "Indeed, indeed, Beste," she said, pleadingly, "you must not think so badly of me as all that." "I can't tell you how glad I am," he said, honestly, "to hear it. I shall, at any rate, take away pleasant memories now." "Thank you." "And,"he went on, with something of a hurry in his manner, "I shall thiuk of you a great deal, Miss Lang ham. Now that you have told me this, I shall look back upon this visit to England as one of absolute delight." "And —and you will come back again?" He waited a moment. "I wonder whether I might write to yon?" he asked. "I think," she said, locking tip with a pleased expression, "that there is no law against that." "I was afraid you would consider it an impertinence on my part." "You find that I do not." "There is something else to ex plain," he said, awkwardly. "I have been here, to some extent,in disguise. I think, perhaps, I ha 1 better write and tell you all about it." "There are still live minutes," she said,looking at the tiny gold watch on her wrist. "Why not tell me now?" "I suppose," he said, with some nervousness, "that under no circum stances would you marry Mr. Charter house. " "Under no circumstances," replied Miss Langham, decidedly. "He is very rich," he remarked, "and I«happen to know that he " "I desire," said the young woman, with much spirit. "I desire not to hear Mi - . Charterhouse's name again." "Your mind is quite made up?" "Quite." A porter stood patiently at the door of the compartment, holding it open for the passenger to South Africa. "There's nothing like a young en gaged couple," said the acute porter to himself, "for making traius late, They don't care." "But suppose I were to tell yen " he said, taking her hand and holding it, "that Mr. Charterhouse, who was a poorish man until three years ago, when this mine was found on his prop erty,has been in England lately? Sup pose I were to tell you that he has fallen in love with you " "Even that doe-uiot concern me, Mr. Beste." "And supposing I were to tell yon that, to avoid beiug pestered by finan cial people and to seethe little school girl who has grown so tall and so—so charming, he preferred to call him self, not Mr.Charterhouse, the owner of the West End mine, but Mr. Beste, the manager of " "That," said Miss Langham, her breath coming quickly, "would make all the difference." The porter jerked his head towa' d the compartment, to hint to his clieut that moments were valuable. The client had no need of this intimation, for he knew better than the porter how very precious the moments were. "Do you really mean that?" he asked, quickly. "I never say things I don't mean, Mr.Beste—l mean Mr.Charterliouse." She laughed a little nervously, "I shall always think of you as Mr. Beste." "But will you always think of me? May I come back here in three months' time and ask you formally " "Now, then, sir," said the porter, "you'll go and lose the special, that's what you'll do." "I mustn't do that, my man. Good bye, Eva. I must take my seat,l sup pose." He stepped into the coreipartmeut, and the porter, shutting the door, re ceived a tip that made him whistle with delight. "And you won't give me an answer now, then?" he went on, anxiously. "I wish there was time to persuade you, dear, to say 'Yes.' But I sup pose I must wait until I return, and we'lllllßl talk it over then, and I must try to induce yon " "I think," said Eva Langham,look ing up and drawing lier giay veil care fully up from her lips, "I think that, considering how very badly you hav* behaved, the wisest thing yoa can do is to—is to kiss me." There was just time. "And that means?" he said.delight edly. "It means," she said, "that lam very, very happy." Out you go, special train to South ampton. Go slowly for a space, mind, because there are folks in the train who are reluctant to leave; go slowly, because there are hopes and ambitions among your passengers, and this start of yours is the first step toward their realization of their disappointment; go slowly, because a bearded man,with a look of content, is straining his sight to miss nothing of the picture of hia future wife. "Well," said Eva Langham to her self, shyly, "this has been a busy twenty miuutes."—Woman at Home. QUAINT AND CURIOUS. A ton of pure gold is worth $002,* 789.21. Marriages in India during the year ended June 30 lust, numbered 23,090 aud the divorces 3080. The great nstronomical clock at Strasburg is the most intricate piece of clockwork in the world. Over 4,000,000 frozen rabbits nre annually exported to the London mar ket from Victoria, Australia. A consignment of sixty-five tierces of corned horse meat has been sent from Linton, Ore., to Rotterdam. Queen Victoria rules more people than ever before acknowledged the sovereignty of king, queen or empress. In the Franco-German war every third German soldier had a map of the country through which he was travel ing. The atmosphere is so clear in Zulu land that, it is said, objects can be seen by starlight at a distance of seven miles. A Kansas City hardware firm re ceived nn order from a country town for a case of iron tonic. It was turned over to a drug house. Figures have been collected in a suburb of Berlin showing that 44 pei cent, of all the children work two to three hours at home before school hours. The oldest city in the world is Nippur, the "Older Bel" of Babylon. The foundations were laid 7000 years B. C. The ruins have lately been un earthed. The British Institute of Public Health will be styled in future the Royal Institute of Public Health, and Queen Victoria has accepted the otlice of patron. Chicago, in the past eight years, has spent the huge sum of $32,225,- 730.83 for street paving, and is still one of the worst paved of the large cities of the world. Bonaparte's house at Longwood, St. Helena, is now a barn ; the room he died in is a stable, and where the im perial body lay instate may be found a machino for grinding corn. At Munich there is a hospital which is entirely supported bv the sale of old steel pen nibs, collected from all parts of Germany. They are made into watch springs, knives and razors. la 1877 Falcon lslaud, in the Friendly Group, began as a smoking shoal; ten years later it was a volcanic island about three hundred feet high and over one and one-half miles long. Now it is disappearing. Greenlanders get their growth when about twenty-five years old. The old est persons known are about sixty years of age. Every person has a sack for telling his age, aud each sun rise (once a year) a bone is put into this sack. Three miles from the village of Krisuvik, in the great volcanic district of Iceland, there is a whole mountain composed of eruptive clays and pure white sulphur. A beautiful grotto penetrates the western slope to an un known depth. Many well-dressed London dandies have contracts with West P2ud florists for the supply of button-hole bouquets. As a rule, the charge is about £1 a week, and this includes two button holes daily, one for wear during the day, aud the other for the evenings. The authorities in the government of Samara, Russia, have recently been actively engaged in tho criminal pur suit of kidnapping children whose parents belong to heterodox sects. The police usually make their visits in the middle of the night, take the chil dren out of bed and carry them oil' in the cold night ai •. Only l(all IMuyers on Hoard. During the nightof the terrible hnr ricance in the harbor of Apia, Samoa, Lieutenant Carlin was the executive officer of the Vandalia. In shipping the crew at Mare island he had given preference in the selection of sailors to those who were baseball players, as he was an enthusiast in the game. While in this port on a previous voy age his baseball team of the ship's men had been badly beaten by the Hono lulu team, nud he determined to meet it again with a better set of men. The Vandalia, however, left this port for Samoa. After the vessel struck the reef and the men were clinging to the rigging, and the surf was making a clean sweep over the deck,and many of the men had been washed overboard, Lieutenant Carlin determined to make a desperate attempt to carry a line from one part of the vessel to the main yard. He shouted out in the howling wind; "I waut some volunteers; good sailors." A voice out of the dark tempest re plied: "Lieutenant, there ain't no sailors here, but plenty of baseball players."—Pacific Commercial Adver tiser. SERMONS OF THE DAY. RELICIOUS TOPICS DISCUSSED BY PROMINENT AMERICAN MINISTERS. fflnr Te»t«r<lay« and Our To-morrowi" Is the Title of Dr. Hepworth's Sermon In the New York Herald—Dr. Talmage on Trrlni Life's Journey Over Again. [NOTE: The one-thousand-dollar prize for the best sermon In the New York Her ald's ooni petition was won by Rev. Richard G. Woodbridge, pastor of the Central Con gregational Church, Mlddleboro, Mass. "The I'ower of Gentleness" was the title of Mr. Woodbrldge's sermon. Fifteen sermons In all appeured In the Herald's competitive series.] TEXT: "Sufficient unto tho day is tho evil thereof."—Matthew vl., 84. Here is a bit of philosophy too profound to be appreciated without careful and con tinuous study. It also contains a stern In junction not to worry over what cannot be helped, but, on the other hand, to make tho best of your circumstances. You are com manded to let the past go its way into the land of forget fulness, and not to borrow from tho future tho troubles which you fear it may contain, but to live in the present as far as possible. It is o command very dif ficult to oboy, and yet obedience is abso lutely necessary if you would get out of lifo all that God has put into it. The mun who lias a vivid remembrance of his past troubles and who cherishes that memory deliberately throws a gloom ovor his present. If he will confine himself to the duty ol' the moment he will generally find that ho is quite equal to it, but if he collects all the miseries of yesterday and of the day before and adds them to the bur dens of to-day he becomes disheartened, and his discouragement saps his moral strength and produces moral weakness. You have enough to do to face what is im mediately before you, and if you conjure up thegliostsof misdeeds and of trials which have been outlived you do yourself a sorl ous injury and Interfere with your spiritual or business success. In liko manner, if you think you can master to-day's work, but dampen your ardor by wondering how you are going to get through to-morrow, you produce u nervous tension which debilitates and brings about tho very failure that you dread. No man can carry more than one day at a timo. When Jesus asks you not to attempt to do so He gives you wise counsel, and you had better follow tho ad vice. Life Is not so smooth that you can afTord to make it rougher by recalling the bad roads over which you have already passed or anticipating tho bad roads over which you will have to pass before tho end of the journey is reached. You mny be cheerful, and therefore strong, if you "will forget tho things that are behind and let the future take care of itself; but if you propose to add yesterday and to-morrow to to-day you will add what God warns you Hgainst doing, aud will ccrtuinly make a treat mistake. Ii tho sun shines now. be grateful and •ontented. Suppose it (lid rain yesterdav, or suppose wo are to have a blizzard to morrow. You have got beyond the rain on tho one hand, and, on the other, the time has not come to meet tho blizzard. It Is foolish to make yourself miserable now because you were miserable a few days hence. One duty, one lnbor at a time is quite enough. If there is any enjoyment to be had, take it with an eage'r gra«p; for If you sit in the warm sunshine for only live minutes it helps you bear the cold of the next live minutes. It is poor policy to spoil those llrst five minutes by worrying about tho other five minutes. Let mo illustrate. There is nothing in connection with death more wearing than the regret that you did not do more for the one who has gone. This is a universal ex perience with those who have any heart. The fact of separation seems to have a magic in It, for it is suddenly revealed to you that there were many little attentions which you failed to render, ami the remem brance pierces like a knife. No one ever parted with a loved ono without self-blamo of that kind. Rut as a general thing it is all an illusion conjured up by overwrought nerves. In very truth you did whatever the circum stances suggested, you did ns much as hu man natura is capable of doing, but in the presence of death you accuse yourself of things of which you aro quite innocent, ami in doing so you make tho parting harder to bear. It mny bo well for the dear ono that he has gone. He Ims sweet sleep for the first time in many months. He is glad that tho bonds of mortality are broken, that he is at last released, ami in the lower depths of your own heart you are also glad lor his «ake. Rut there comes this thorny thought, that you may have been remiss, aud your soul is wrung by it. You do yourself a wrong. You did what you could. You were loving, tender, gentle and more than kind. You have real burdens enough without adding imaginary ones. Your tenrs must not bo embittered by an accusation which has no basis in fact. Life is too precious and too short to be wasted In regrets of that kind. Tho duties of the future demand your close attention, and you have no right to think of the dead ex cept to recall a sweet relationship and to dream of a reunion. Live your lifo as quietly nnd is peace fully as possible. Live in each day ns It comes. Other duys, whether past orfuture, must not be allowed to press on your heart. This is tho noblest policy you "can adopt, the policy which coires to you as a divine injunction. Let neither regret nor an ticipation intrudo upon you to make you weak. It is evident that tliore is a plan accord ing to which your lifo is arranging itself, and equally evident that if you are repose ful and trustful, doing the duty of the present hour nnd not fretting over the duty of the next hour, you aro in a mental condition which keeps all your powers at their best. It Is the grandest privilege to feel that there is a God, a guardian of human des tiny, and that you are in His hands. If that conviction is ono of your possessions, your pearl of great price, "you can be quiet even in tho midst of tumult nnd cheerful In the midst of sorrow, for your very tears will serve ns a background for tho ruinbow of hope und promise. GEORGE H. HEPWOIITH. DR. TALMACEJ SERMON. "Would You Like to Live Your Life Over Again?" is the Subject. TEXT: "All that a man hath will he give for his life." —Job. ii., 4. "That is untrue. The Lord did not say It, but Satan said it to the Lord when the evil ono wanted Job still more afflicted. The record is: 'So went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord, rind smote Job with sore boils.' And Satan has been the author of all eruptive disease since then, and ho hopes by poisoning the blood to poison the soul. Rut the result of the dia bolical experiment which left Job victor proved the falsity ol tho Satanic remark: 'All that a man hnth will he give for Ills life.' Many a captain who has stood on the bridge of the steamer till his passengers got off and he drowned; mauy au engineer who has kept his bund on tho throttle valve, or his foot on tho brake, until the most of the train was saved, while ho went down to death through the open draw bridge; many a fireman who plunged into u blazing house to get a sleeping child out, the fireman sacrificing his life In the at tempt, and the thousnnd of martyrs who submitted to fiery stake and knife of mas sacre und headman's ax and guillotine rather than surrender principle, proving that in many a case my text wns not true when it says, 'All that" a man hath will he give for his life.' "Rut Satan'B falsehood was built on a truth. Life is very precious, and If we,' would not give up all there are many { things we would surrender rather than surrender U. We see bow preoious life la from the fact we do every thing to prolong It. Hence nil sanitary regulations, all study of hygiene, all fear of draughts, all waterproofs, all doctors, all medicines, all struggle in crisis or accident. An Admlrai of the Rrltish Navy was court-martialed for turning his ship around In time of dan ger, and so damaging the ship. It was proved against him. Rut when his timo came to be heard he said; 'Gentlemen, I did turn the ship around, and admit that it was damaged but do you want to know why I turned It? There was a man over board, and I wanted to save htm, and I did save him, and I consider tite life of one sailor worth all the vessels of ho Rrltish Navy.' No wonder he was vindicated. Life'ls indeed very precious. Yetaj, there are those who deem life so preclou* ,they would like to try it over again. They witfld liko togo buck from seventy to sixty, frojn sixty to llfty, from fifty to forty, from forty to thirty, and from thirty to twenty. 1 "Tho faofliS, that no intelligent and right feeling man Is satisfied with his past life. "However successful your life may have been, you are not satisfied with it. What is success? Ask that question of a hundred different men, nnd they will give a hun dred different answers. One man will say, 'Success is a million dollars;' another will say, 'Success Is world-wide publicity;' an other will say, 'Success is gaining that which you started for.' Rut as It is a free country, I givo my own definition, and say, 'Success Is fulfilling the particular mission upon which you weresent, whether to write a constitution, or invent a new style of wheelbarrow, or take care of a sick child.' Do what God calls you to do, and you are a success, whether you leave a million dollars at death or are burled at public expense, whether it takes fifteen pages of an encyclopedia to tell tho won derful things you have done, or your name is never printed but once, aud that in tho death column. Rut whatever your success has been, you aro not satisfied with your life. "Rut some of you would have togo back farther than to twenty-one years of age to make a fair sturt, for there are many who manage to get all wrong before that period. Yoa, in order to get a fair start, some would have togo back to the father and mother and get them corrected; yea, to tho grand father and grandmother, ana have their life corrected, for some of you are suffering from bad hereditary influences which started a hundred years ago. Well, if your grandfather lived his lifo over again, nnd your father lived his lifo over again, and you lived your lifo over again, what a clut torod-up place this world would be—a place filled with miserable attempts at repairs. I begin to think that it is better for each generation to hnve only one chance, and then for them to pass oil and give another generation n chance. Resides that, if wo were permitted to live lifo over again, it would be a stale, and stupid experience. The zest and spur and onthusiasm of life come from tho fact that wo huvo never been along this road before, nnd every thing is new, and we are alert for what may appear at the next turn of the road. Sup pose you, a mun of middle-life or old ngo, were, with your present feelings and large attainments, put back into tho thirties, or the twenties, or into tho tens, what a nui sance you would bo to others, and what an unhappiness to yourself! Your contempor aries would not want you, and you would not waut them. Things that in your pre vious journey of life stirred your healthful ambition, or gave you pleasurable surprise, or led you into happy interrogation, would only call forth from you a disgusted 'Oh, pshaw!' You would be blase at thirty, and a misanthrope at forty, and unendurable at llfty. The most insane and stupid thing imaginable would bo u second journey of life. "Out yonder is a man very old at forty years of age, at a time when lie ought to be buoyant as the morning. Ho got bad habits on him very early, and those habits have become worse. He is a man on fire, on fire with alcoholism, on fire with all evil habits, out with the world nnd the world out with him. Down, and falling deeper. His swollen hands in his threadbare pockets, anil his eyes fixed on the ground, he passes through the streets, and the quick step of an innocent child or the strong step of a young man or the roll of a prosperous car riage maddens him, and he curses society and he curses God, Fallen sick, with no resources, he Is carried to the almshouse. A loathsome spectacle, ho lies all day long waiting for dissolution, or in the night rises on his cot and fights apparitions of | what lio might have been and what he will be. Ho started life with as good a pros pect ns any man on the American continent, andthero he is, a bloated carcass, waiting for tho shovels of public charity to put him five feet under. He has only reaped what he sowed. Harvest of wild oats! 'l'herois a way thatseemetii right to a mun, but the end thereof is dentil.' "To others life Is a masquerade ball, and as at such entertainments gentlemen aud ladies put on the garb of Kings and Queens or mountebanks or clowns nnd at tho close put off the disguise, so a great mauv pass their whole life inn mask, taking off the mask at death. While tho masquerade ball of life goes on, they trip merrily over the floor, gemmed hand is stretched to gemmed hand, gleaming brow bends to gleaming brow. On with tho dance! Flush and rus tle and laughter of immeasurable merry making. Rut after awhile tho languor of death comes on the limbs nnd blurs the eyesight. Lights lower. Floor hollow with sepulchrul echo. Music saddened in to a wail. Lights lower. Now the mask ers aro only seen in the dim light. Now the fragrance of tho ilowers is like the sicken ing odor that comes from garlands that have lain long In the vaults of cemeteries. Lights lower. Mists gather In the room. Glasses shake as though quaked by sudden thunder. Sigh caught in tho curtain. Scarf drops from tho shoulder of beauty a shroud. Lights lower. Over the slippery boards in dance of death glide jealousies, envies, revenges, lust, despair and death. Stonch of lamp-wicks almost extinguished. Torn garlands will not half cover tho ul cerated feet. Choking damps. Chilliuess. Feet still. Hands closed. Voices hushed. Eyes shut. Lights out. "Young man, as you cannot live life over again, however you may long to do so, bo sure to have your ono life right. There is In this assembly, I wot not, for we are made up of all sections of this land and from niuny lands, somo young man who has gone away from homo uud, perhaps under some little spite or evil persuasion of another, ana his parents knownotwhero ho is. My son, go home! Do not goto seal Don't go to-night wliero you may be tempted to go. Go home! Your futhcr will be glad to see you; and your mother— I need not tell you how she feels, now I would like to make your parents a present of their wayward boy, repentant and in ills right mind. I would like to write them a letter, and you to carry tho letter, saying: 'Ry the blessing of God on my ser mon I introduce to you one whom you have nover seen before, for he has become a now creature In Christ Jesus.' My boy, go homo nnd put your tired head on the bosom that nursed you so tenderly lu your chjildhood years. VA young Scotchman was in battle taken cniitive by a baud of Indians, nn I he let rued their language and adople! their ha jits. Years passed on, but the old Indian eh eftuin never forgot that he had in his po: session a youug mun who did not belong to Jim. Well, one day this tribe of Indians out ne in sight of the Scotch regiments from whom this young «n»n had been captured, an 1 the old Indian chieftain said: 'I lost mj son in battle, and I know how n father feels at the loss of a son. Do you think yoi ir father Is yet alive?' The youug man sni d: 'I am the only sou of my father, aud i Ii ope ho is still alive.' Tlieu said tin; In dii n chieftain: 'Recause of the loss of my son this world Is a iesert. You go free. Return taf your countrymen. Revisit your father, tJnat he may rejoice when he sees the suu rise In tho morning and the trees blossom /in the spring.' So I say to you, young man, captive of waywardness and sin. Y'our mother is waiting for you. Your sisters are waiting for you. God is waiting for you. Uo hornet Go Uomet" A TEMPERANCE COLUMN. THE DRINK EVIL MADE MANIFEST IN MANY WAYS. Che Camel's Nose—lnteresting Statistics on the I>rlnk Habits of the Various Nation* —Most Drink Consumed is Mail* In the Country Where It Is Absorbed, [The Arabs have this proverb to warn against letting bad habits begin: "Bewar« of the camel's nose."] Once in a shop a workman wrought With languid hand and listless thought, When, through the open window space, Behold, a camel thrust his face! "My nose is cold," he meekly cried; "O, let me warm it by thy side!" Since no denial word was said, •Jn oarne the nose, in came the head; Assure as sermon followed text The Jong and shaggy neck came next; And ti«en as falls the threatening storm, In leaped the whole ungainly form. Aghast, the Vrwner gazed around. And on the rudfc invader frowned, Convinced, as still he pressed. There was no room n. or such a guest; Yet, more astonished, l>' ln sa >'< "If thou art troubled, go thy 1 For In this place I choose to stay." O, youthful hearts, to gladness born, Treut not this Arab lore with soorn! To evil habit's earliest wile Lend neither ear nor glance nor smile! Choke the dark fountain ere it flows, Nor e'en admit the camel's nose. Some Statistics on Nations' Drinking. The country owes thanks to Sir Courte nny Boyle. Most blue-hooks nre dry, ami few of us care to master their contents. Sir Courteney Boyle hns succeeded, however, in producing one thut almost might be de scribed as fascinating—the drink statistics of the civilized world, or, to give it its official and rather long-windod title, "The Production and Consumption of Alcoholic Boverages" (wine, beer, spirits). A study of tho paper leads to one con clusion, namely—that not only will people drink as long as they can afford to pay for it, but that they will drink. Franco pro duces ten times as much wine as Germany; it also exports ten times as much; and yet more German wine is imported into the United States than French wine. The answer is obvious: There are In the States many successful German settlers, and they, having the money, will have the hock of tho Fatherland, no matter what they pay for it. Thus also in prosperous Belgium people put scarcely any limit on them selves in the matter of drink, and whether it bo beer or spirits Belgium stands at tho lieud in the mutter of consumption per head, while even as regards wine, although it is not a wine-producing country, the in habitants consumo as much as do the Ger mans, whoso country is wine-producing. One point that is brought out very clear ly in these tables is the fact that the drink trade is almost every w hero a home indus try, i.e., that by far tho greater portion of the drink consumed is made in tho country consuming it. We in England import so much wine and brandy from the continent that vro are perhaps not altogether in a position to realize tho fact, and yet even in £ England by far tho greater part of thu> drink consumed is home-made. This is proved by the relative proportions of the customs receipts from imported and the excise receipts from homo-mudo liquors. Tho customs receipts umount to A' 5,500,000, and the excise receipts to X' 27,090.000, or in the proportion of seventeen per cent, to eighty-three percent, in favor home made. Perhaps very few hoyv great an extent Franco is the gi * winrj produeing, nnd also the great <v-<n suming country of tho world. 1 tate meut that the quantity of wlno annually drunk In the Uulted Kingdom, Germany and the United States, which, taken to gether, have a population of 150,009,000 souls, barely exceeds a tenth part of what is consumed in France, with its 38,000,000 of inhabitants enables J,us to more fully realize the fact. Many, moreover, will be surprised to find that the consumption per head of beer in this country exceeds that of Germany, for while tho German drinks twenty-five gallons per annum, the English man drinks thirty gallons. In both coun tries the consumption of beer Is distinctly on the increase. The following is an interesting fact taken at hazard: Soventy-seven gallons Jof beer are consumed in this country fcr every gal lon of wine that is drunk; could any clearer proof be wanting that it is the masses who drink, not tho classes? Scarcely thesevcuth part of a bottle of champagne per head is drunk per annum by the inhabitants of this country; In the United States scarcely the twentieth part.—Pall Mall Gazette. The Influence of Good Example. Every one of us, no matter how obscure, has an lnlluence 'for good or bad in this life. None of us lives for self alone; so strangely aro our lives Interwoven with those around us, nnd so interdependent aro wo upon one another that even the weakest of us has a part to sustain, and a duty to do in the world. For this reason wo should be most particular as to our words and actions; for, all unknown to us, some one else may bo modeling his life atter.ours, ac cepting as his standard of right and wrong tho opinions we express, and the way in which wo act. In the matter of drinking, particularly, does each of us become either a guldlng light or a stumbling-block to our neighbor. Because tho evil of drink is so widespread, our attitude in relation to it is of especial Importance to those around us. And \£ho fact that we are, or aro not, addicted' to drink, though at Urst sight it appears to concern nobody except ourselves, may bo the means of breaking down or building up some one's character i-.i that particular point. And the strengthening of our fel low men's character in regard to liquor should be oneo? the gravest concerns of us all, whether as citizens of the State whoso Integrity is endangered by the drunkenness of its people, or as members of the CUurjh whose progress, humanly speaking, Is bum pered by the bad example shown In this re spect by her children. Young men and women are growlne up, and the people with whom thoy associate, as well us those whom they know even In directly. have an influence in forming their characters. It is our duty to so live tha* we scandalize none of those, it behoovej each and every one of us to take apositloo on the drink question, which shall condu<" to the glory of Good, the good of T Church, und the salvation of goals.—S' Heart Review. Suited Hiui Iletter. Two men had a sharp discuss was an abstainer; the other wus no. the latter: "Depend upon it, there Is iug like beer. Why, when I get lion, night, and have drunk a quart or tw. feel as if I could knock a house dowi. "Ah," replied tho other, quietly, "but sin I have been a teetotaler, I have put houses up, and that suits mo better." Imitation Tokay Wine. A secret formula for tho mnniifu Hungarian Tokay wine was race r üblic in a lawsuit In New Yo the ingredients were alcohol, fa honev, tokuy essence, lemon, ai acid, gelatine and water. Tt mention of tho juice of the grai A Shot at the Decsn A gentleman, having called clan, said: "Now, sir, I wish fling; my desirelsthat you at root of my disease!" "It si replied the doctor; and liftl smashed the wlno decanter, the table.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers