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.