HIRAM BAKER'S MORALIZING Sometimes, when I read of the men But, then again, I think, suppose Who're on the tip- top notch of fume, That ail our bruins was same as his, While every tongue aud every pen Who'd plow the furrers, plant the rows, Is paytn' tributes to their name, And do the common stints there is? And when I think how close and small If everyone could greatness share My life aud lot is ou this earth, This world would stop,l guess we'd And: I have been fool enough to fall We can't all fancy-work prepare. Into the blues and hate it all, The few have pleasant tasks aud fair, And envy luckier men their berth. The mauy's got to git the grind. Sometimes, when some chap wins the prize, God made us all, and put us hero And writes his name amongst the best, As part of His almighty plan; I think, 'spose I'd his chance to rise, And each one's got his duty clear: His edication and the rest, It's jest to do the best he can. I wonder If I couldn't climb And if my place in life ain't what The ladder jest as quick as he, I'd like to have it, nor as great, Aud then it alm<»st seems a crime Why, If I can, I'll change my lot, That he should feast, while, all the time. And, if I can't, whate'er I've got, There's but the hard, dry crusts for mo. I'll try to keep my furrer straight. —Joe Lincoln. ! MISS FEROBIA'S FAILURE. | ' 5 <6 BY HELEN WHITNEY CLARK. # "You're n stnnnin' in yer own light, | Feroby." Timothy Filbert shook his I head solemnly as he spoke. He was a large man, with small, light-blue eyes ami a chronic stoop in the shoulders, nuggestive of ft too steady application to the plow. "You're a stanuin' in yer own ligh f ," he repeated, impressively. ".Mebbe you're right, Timothy," admitted his sister, meekly. She was not naturally of a meek disposition, b.it there are times when the most i spirited person feels crushed by cir cumstances, and suc'i a moment had come to-Miss Ferobia. Timothy felt somewhat placated by tho unexpected admission. " 'Tain't too late yet," he suggested, I briskly, taking his seat at the break- i fast table, where his sister was already pouring the coffee. "You jest say tlie word, Feroby, an' I'll give Jason Smallweed a hint that you've changed jor mind." His pale-blue eyes glanced inquir- ! ingly at his sister, but Miss Ferobia's momentary meekness seemed to have vanished as unaccountably as it had appeared. "I haven't change 1 my mind," she re'ortel with much asperity. "I 1 won't marry Ja-ou Smallweed, nor nobtuldy else. I'll stay right here an' keep house for yo 1 the balance of my days." i Timothy wriggled uneasily. He had ! his own reasons for not appreciating the generous offer. To fortify himself for the disclosure which must be made he swallowed half his coffee at. a gulp. | "I—l—the truth is, Feroby," lie stammered, with a crimson counten ance, "I felt so sartin I was a-goin' to lose you,l—l asked Nancy Garget,an' she said she'd have me." The cat was o'lt of the bag now, and Timothy mopped his face with his handkerchief aud breathed a sigh of relief. But Miss Ferobia, like a sensible woman, bore tbe shock bravely. "And how suon am I to give up my situation? ' she asked. 'J imothy grew uncomfortable again. "Hey? Oh! —why -you needn't to l.e in a hurry. It won't come off fur a week yet," he hastened to ex plain. "An', o." c mrse, you know I wouldn't hev noihiu' again yer stayiu' , right along,sa ne as ever, only Nancy, she " "You couldn't hire me to stay," | was the reassuring answer, and Tim othy congratulated himself ou having the matter soea ily setlled. "It puz zled me cousider'ble to know why Tim othy was so sot on me changin* my mind," reflected Miss Ferobia, as she washed up the breakfast dishes and polished the knives and forks. "But it's plain as a pike-staff now. I might o' kuowed he was sayin' one word fur me an'two fur hisself." Miss Fe obia was as unlike her 1 brother in appearance as she was in disposit'ou. While he was stoop-shouldered she was straight as an arrow. And though, , as she admittod, she was "getting along" in years, her bright eyes and , fresh completion contradicted the as sertion. At hor brother's request she re mained at her post until the wedding was over and the bride installed in her new home. There was very little congeniality ! between the two women, and Mrs. j Timothy Filbert was disposed to tri- i umph over her sister-in-law. "I s'poso you wasn't a-countin' on your brother marryin'," she remarke 1, disagreeably, as she combed out hor ink-black tresse< before the square framed looking glass in the best room. "He had a right to please himself," rejoined Miss Ferobia, composedly. "But what are yon going to do?" persisted the brido. "As I told Tim othy before I promised to have him, the house wa'n't big enough fur two fam'lies, an' yon couldn't expect to Btav after I comc." "An' as I told him, I wouldn't stay if he paid me for it," retorted Miss Ferobia, emphatically. "Oh, you're mighty independent," sniffed Nancy, tossing her head. "I suppose you're a calculatin' to take up with Jason Smallweed. You wouldn't ketch me marryin' a widder er," she added, maliciously. "If I couldn't be the tablecloth I wouldn't be the dish rag. But I s'pose he's Hobson'schoice with you." The truth was that she was afraid her sister-in-law might still manage t<> retain a place in the house hold by hook or by crook.and she was determined to provoke an altercation in order to prevent such a sequence. But Miss Ferobia was not to be drawn into a quarrel. "Ho may be Hobson's choice, but he is not mine," she returned, coolly. Nancy, however, was as persistent as a gnat or a gadfly. "I don't donbt but what you'd rather have Felix Byefield," she sug gested, slyly; "but you needn't to count on gittin' him,fur he's a-keepin' comp'ny with the Widder Cheeseman, an' evervbuddy says they're a-goin' to marry after harvest." It was a random shot on Nancy's part, but her black eyes sparkled with malicious triumph as she saw by her sister-in-law's burning cheeks that the poisoned a: row had struck home. Miss Ferobia deigned no reply, how ever, but went coolly about prepara tions for her own departure. She had rented a small cottage and a few acres of ground a mile or two from the old homestead, and Timothy could do no less than get out the spring wagon and drive her to the new home. It was yet early in the springtime, and the wild plum trees were white with bloom. The tnll maples and elms by the roadside swung their light tas sels in the soft breeze, and myriads of buttercups aud purple lined pansies dotted the grass-grown lanes. "I dunno what you wanted of so much ground 'round your house," re ma! ked Timothy, reflectively, as tho wag ju rolled easily along. "Half an acre would have bsen enough,l should say." "No, it wouldn't," maintained his sister, stoutly. "I'm a-goin' into the gardeuin' business, to raise truck fur the markets." Timothy whistled. "You'll ma! e a failure of it, sure as guns," he declared, ruthlessly. But Miss Ferobia was not to be dis couraged. "There's plenty ofinen make a livin* at it, au' why not me?" she asked. "I've got a little money laid by to start ou. An' I've got a stout pair of arms, and never was fick a day in my life; so way should I make a failure of it':" Bit Timothy only shook his head and remarked,, vaguely, that it was "onpracticalle, and she should find out," and decline I to commit himself further. And the conference was cut short by their arrival at the cottage. It was a lonely place, but Miss Fero bia was blessed with strong nerves,aud solitude had no terrors for her. She ha 1 accumulated a few odds and ends of furniture from time to time, the gifts of variom friends and relative*, which went a good way toward furnishing her diminutive dwelling. And when they were arranged to her satisfaction, aud a square of bright lag carpet tacked down in the centre of Ferobia felt as happy a- a king. She was too tired after her day's work to do more than take a cup of tea and retire to But a comfort ablo night's slefcp on the old-fashioned square-posted bedstead restored her energies, and* for the next few days she was as busy as a nailor over her preparations. Lem Dodson was hired to plow the "truck patch," a cow with a young calf was bargained for,and a few fowls of the Plymouth Rock and Dorking species were purchased and were soon cackling vigorously around their new quarters. After a little more help from neigh bor Dodson, and a vigorous use of the hoe on Miss Ferobia's part, the ground was in readiness for planting, and the ambitious market gardener sat up till long past her usual bedtime looking over her stock of seeds and selecting those requisite for immediate use. There might still be late frosts, Rhe reflected, and such tender plants as beans aud cucumbers, summer squashes and nutmeg melons would be better out of the ground than in it for a few days to come. But beets and lettuce, spinach and marrowfat peas aud ruta bagas would stand anything short of a regular freeze, and might be safely planted at once. And, late though she sat up, the first pink flush of early dawn did not And Miss Ferobia napping the next morn ing, nor for many mornings to come. She was up with the birds, and after a hasty breakfast out she sallied, and hoed and raked, weeded and trans» planted, till her back ached and her lingers grew sore and her nose freckled and her cheeks tanned. But garden ing is hard work, at best, and though Miss Ferobia labored with a will, the grass and weeds would creep in here and there in spite of lier vigilance. The purslane—"pusly" she called it— and horse nettles grew faster than her butter-head lettuce or white spine cu cumbers. Then the weather was not always propitious, and her first planting of sugar cor? and early rose potatoes rotted in the ground. Bat Miss Ferobia, nothing daunted, replanted the vacant rows with later varieties, and indue time the seeds sprouted and gave every promise of a luxuriant crop. But from that time on it was, as the little woman declared, a "tussle" be tween herself and the weeds. While she was llO®ino' b*r nnhhaffaa and kohl robies and weeding her sil ver-skin onions, the cockle bans and wild morning glories were flouri hing among her sweet corn and potatoes. She worked early and late,however, to eradicate the tenacious interlopers, aud fiually succeeded in accomplishing her task. When lo! one unlucky night Farmer Nub', ins' pigs forced their way through a broken panel of the feuce aud played havoc among the growing crops. Small wonder,indeed, if our heroine lost her temper at last and pelted those pigs with clods, or whatever came handiest, and even whacked oue of them acioss the snout with the hoe handle. But with all her efforts it was late in the day when the last one of the maraudeis was disposed of and the fence patched up, after a fashiont (I will say here, in parenthesis,thai I do believe a woman could vote, and eveu make laws, and execute them, too, as well as a man, under some cir cumstances. When I say "under some circumstances," I mean if she were not hampered by prejudiced and un reasonable cjlleagues. But when it comes to patching rail-fences, the least said about womau's capabilities tho better). However, Miss Ferobia's workmau ship, if not exactly astistic, was .suffi ciently ingenious to prevent further inroads iu that direction. But for some reason, from thnt time on the Fates seemed to turn a cold shoulder on her efforts. The rabbits feasted on her early York cabbages and marrowfat peas,the striped bugs worked destruction ou her cucumbers and Cassava melons, the Colorado beetle devastated her potatoes, and the squash bugs ate up her Boston marrows and } atty-pan squashes. Tho foxes, miuks, owls and hawks, to say nothing of opossums aud weasels, thinned the ranks of Iter young Dorkings and Plymouth Rooks; and, to make matters worse, her cow tinned out to bo a "jumper" and brought disgrace on herself and trouble ou her mistress by daily raids on Farmer Nubbins' cornfield. This was the last straw, and, like the mythical camel, Miss Ferobia broke down under it, 'There ain't no use n-tryin', ns I see," she lamented dolefully as she set out lier oue cup and saucer, iu readiness for lier tea. "A lone woman dou't have 110 chance at all. An' here I've spent all my money, an' my garden ain't wuth shucks. And Timothy, he'll say he told me how 'twould be, and that I'd better o' mar ried Jason Smallweed. And I almost b'lieve—l—would No, I wouldn't, either. I won't take up with a crooked stick, if 1 be nearly through the woods " "Evenin'.Miss Feroby," interrupted a cheery voice, and there,- framed iu the doorway, stood Felix Bvetield, n smile brightening his honest, sun brow ne.l face. Miss Ferobia shook hands with her visitor, and drew forth u chair for him, with a secret fluttering at her heart as she remembered her sister-in law's insinuation. But Felix was evidently bent ou making himself agreeable. "An' so you've struck out for your self," he observed, "(littin' along first rute, I opine. You must show me your garden." "I haven't got 110 garden, an' you sha'n't see it," declared Mis* Ferobia, inconsistently. "It's all choked up with weeds—l couldn't keep 'em out. An' what with the bugs, an' the rab bits an' pigs, I aiu't got a cabbage head left skeercely." "Slio' now, you don't say! Why,if that ain't too bad," responded Felix, sympathetically. "An' the varmints has took all my youug chickens, "continued Miss Fero bia. "An' Farmer Nubbins is a-goin' to shoot my cow, an' an' " The thought of all her woes was too much for her, aud she began to sob hysterically. "Don't cry, Miss Feroby; please don't," urged Felix. "He shan't shoot your cow, I promise you." But Miss Ferobia shook her head and dried her eyes ou the corner of her apron. "I'll sell the cow," she declared,so berly. "An' I'll go an' hire out somewhere. I can cook if I can't make a garden." "Nc need to hire out," putin Felix, eagerly. "I— want somebody to cook fur me. Say you'll marry me, Fero by!" But Miss Ferobia iu her surprise stare I at him, then hung her head, blushing like a girl. "It's so—sudden," she whispered. "W'.itvt's the odds?" asked Felix, boldly. "I wanted you long ago, only I couldn't somehow git the courage to abk you. Say yes, won't you,Feroby?" Aud after a little more urging Miss Ferobia did say yes,and felt very well contented with her future prospects,in spite of her weedy garden. "Timothy will say the truck busi ness was a failure after all," she re flected, as she washed tip her supper dishes at night, with a very light heart, "but he can't say it wasn't a successful failure, anyhow."—Waver ley. Four Queer Watties. A man registered in a Cleveland hotel the other day, giving his place of residence aa Sleepy Eye, Minn. Half an hour later another guest reg istered from Fainted Post, lown. The clerk paid no especial attention to this, but when the next man to regis ter boldly wrote " White Pigeon, Mich.," after his name, both the clerk and the bookkeeper begnn to get in terested. While they were talking about the queer names that had been given to some of our western towns a dignified-looking man stepped up to the office, whirled the register around aud scrawled "Horsehe.«ds, N. Y."— Cleveland Plain Dealer. DR. TALMAGE'S SERMON. SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE Br THE NOTED DIVINE. Subject: Tho Glories of Heaven—Christ's Attractiveness Pointed In Glowing Col ors—From Ivory l*nluces to the Agony of the Crticillxlon. [Copyright, Louts Klorscli. 18M.1 Wabhikoton, D. C.—ln this discourse Dr. Tulmuge sets forth tho glories of the world !o come and tho attractiveness of the Christ, who opens the way; text. Psalms, x1v.,8, "All Tliy garments smell of myrrh ond aloos and cassia out of tho ivory pal aces." Among the grand adornments of tho city of Paris Is the Church of Notre Dame, with great towers and elaborate rose windowH ind sculpturing of tho last judgment, with the trumpeting angels und rising dead; its Vattlements of quatre foil; its sacristy, *lth ribbed ceilings aud statues of saints. 3ut there was nothing iu all that build ng which more vividly appealed to my plain republican tastes than the costly vestments wltich lay in oaken presses —robes that bad been embroidered with gold and been worn by Popes and archbishops on great occasions. There was a robethßt had been worn by Pius VII. at the crowning of tho first Napoleon. There was also a vestment thnt had been worn at the baptism of Napoleon 11. As our guide opened the oaken presses and brought out those vestments of fabulous cost and lifted them up the fragrance of the pungent nra matics in which they bad been preserved tilled the place with a sweetness that was almost oppressive. Nothing that had been done In stone moro vividly impressed me than these things that had been done in cloth and embroidery nnd perfume. But to-dny I open the drawer of this text, and I look upon the kingly robes of Christ, aud as I lift them, flashing with eternal jewels, the whole house is filled with tho aroma of these garments, which "smell of myrrh c.nd aloes aud cassia out of the ivory"pal uces." In my text tho King stops forth. Hl3 robes rustle nnd blaze as Ho advances. HiJ pomp and power and glory overmaster tho spectator. More brilliant Is H« than Queen Vashtl moving amid tho Persian priuces; than Marie Antoinette on the day when Eotiis XVI. put upon lior tho nocklace of 800 diamonds; thau Anno Boloyn the day when Henry VIII. welcomed her to his palace—all beauty and all pomp forgotten while wo stand In the presence of this im perial glory, King of Zlou, Kiug of the earth. King of heaven, King forever! Her garments not worn out, not dust be draggled. but radiant and jowcled aud re dolent. It seoins as If they must have boon pressed 100 years amid tho (lowers of heaven. The wardrobes from which they have been taken must have been sweet with clusters of camphor aud frankln eense' nnd all manner of precious wood. Do you not Inhale the odors? Aye, ave. "They smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of tliC ivory palaces." Your first curiosity t- to know why the robes of Christ are odorous with mvrrli. This was a bright leafed Abyssinian plant. It wus trlfollated. Tho Greeks. Egyptians, Romans and Jews bought acdsold It at a high price. Tho first present that w,n ever given to Christ was a sprig of myrrh thrown on His infantile bed in Bethlehem, nnd the last gift that Christ ever had was myrrh pressed into the cup of His cruci fixion. Tho natives would take a stone and bruise the tree, and then it would lixudc n gum that would saturate all tho Kround beneath. This gum was used for the purposes of merchandise. One piece of it no larger than a chestnut would whelm a whole room with odors. It was put In closets, in chests, Iu drawers, in rooms, and its perfume adhered nlmost in terminably to anything that was anywhere iiear It. So when in my text I read that Christ's garments smell of myrrh I imme diately conclude tho exquisite sweetness of Jesus. Would that you all know Ills sweetness! How soon you would turn from all other uttractions! If tho philosopher leaped out of his bath in a frenzy of joy aud clapped bis hands and rushed through tho streets because he bad found the solution of a mathematical problem, how will you feel leaping from the fountain of a Saviour's mercy and pardon, washed clean and made white as snow, when the question has been solved, "How can my soul bo saved?" Naked, frostbitten, storm-lashed soul, lot Jesus tills hour throw around theo tho •'garments thnt smell of myrrh and aloes nnd cassia out of tho Ivory palace." Your second curiosity is to know why the robes of Jesus aro odorous with aloes. There Is somo difference of opinion about where these aloes grow, what is the color of the flower, what is tho particular ap pearance of the herb. Suffice it for you and mo to'know that aloes mean bitterness the world'over, and when Christ comes with garments bearing that particular odor they suggest to me tho bitterness of a Saviour's sufferings. Were there ever such nights as Jesus lived through—nights 011 the mountains, nights on the sea, nights in the desert? Who eyer had such a hard re ception as Jesus bad? A hostelry the first, an unjust trial in oyer and terminer an other, a foul mouthed, yelling mob the last. Was there a space on His back as wide as vour two Angers where He was not whipped? Vfas there a space on His brow an inch square where He was not cut of the briers? When the spike struck at the instep, did It not go el' ar through to the hollow of the foot? Oh, long, deep, bitter pilgrimage! Aloes! Aloes! John leaned his head on Christ, but who did Christ lean on? Five thousand men fed by the Saviour; wbo fed Jesus? The sympathy of a Saviour's heart going out to the leper and the adultress; but who soothed Christ? Ho had a fit p'.aeo neither to be born nor to die. A poor babe! A poor lad! A poor youug man! Not so much as a taper to cheer HU dying hours. Even the candle of tho sun snuffed out. Was it not all aloes? Our sins, sorrows, Vereavements, losses and all the agonies of eaith and hell picked up as In cne cluster nnd squeezed into one cup, nnd that pressed to Hlsllps until the acrid, nauseat ing, bitter draft was swallowed with a dis torted countenance and a shudder from head tc foot and a gurgling strungulalion. Aloes, aloes! Nothing but aloes. All this for Himself? All this to get" the fame iu the world of being a martyr? All this in a spirit of stubbornness, because Ho did not like Crnsur? No, nol All this because He wanted to pluck me and you from hell. Because He wanted to raise me ami you to heaven. Because we were lost and He wanted us found. Because we were blind, and He wanted us to see. Because wo were serfs, and He wanted us mauumitted. Oh, ye in whose cup of llfo the saccharin Uns predominated: ob, ye who have had bright and sparkling beverages, tiow do you feel toward Him who In your stead nnd to purchase your diseuthritllmonr, took the aloes, the unsavory aloes, the bitter aloos? Your third curiosity i9 to know why these gurments of Christ are odorous with cassia. This was a plant which grow in India, and tho adjoining islands. You do not care to hear what kind of a flower it bad or what kind of a stalk. It is enough for me to tell you that it was used medicinally. In thnt land and in that age, where they knew but little nbout pharmacy, cassia was used to arrest many forms of disease. So, when in my text we find Christ coming with garments that smell of ca-ista, It suggests to me the healing and curative power of the Son of God. "O11," you »av, "now you have a eupctfluous ideal w« are not sick. Wbv do wo want cassia? We are athletic. Our respiration Is per fect. Our limbs nre lithe, aud on bright cool days we feel we could bound like a roe." 1 beg to differ, my brother, from you. None of you can be better 111 physical health than I nm, and yet I roust say we are all sick. I have take j the diagnosis of your case and have examined all the best authorities on the subject, and I have to tell yon tbat you are "full o' wounds and bruises ami putrefying sore» which have not been bound up or mollified with ointment." The marasmus of cln 19 on us—the palsy; the dropsy, the leprosy The man that is expiring to-night in the next street—the allopacbiu and ho-ueo pathio doctors have given bin up and his friends now standing around to take bis last words—is no more certainly dying a# to his body than you and I are dying umog< wo have taken the medicine from G>d'« apothecary. All the leaves of this Btbi* nro onlv so many prescriptions from the Divluo Phygiciau, written, not in Latin, like the prescriptl )iis of earthly physicians' but written in plain English, so that a "man, though a fool, need not err therein.' Thank Qod that the Saviour's garment? smell of cassia! Suppose a man were sick, and there was a phial on his mantelpiece with medicine he knew would cure him, and he refused to take It, what would you say of him? He is a suicide. And what do you say of tbat man who, sick in sin, has the healing medicine of God's grace offered htm ami refuses to take it? If he dies, be is a sui cide. People talk as though God took a man and led him out to darkness and death, as though He brought him up to the i cliffs and then pushed liim off. Oh, no! When a man is lost, It is not because God pushes him off; it is because ho jumps off. In cldeu times a suicide win buried at the crossroads, uud the people were accus tomed to throw stones upon his grave. So it seems to me there may be at this time a man who is destroying his soul, ai)d as though the angels of God were here to bury him at the point where the roads of life and death crass each other, throwing upon the grave the broken law and a great pile of misimproved privileges, so that those going by may look at the fearful mound and learn what a suicide it is when an immortal -«oul, for which Jesus dlod, put Itself out of the way. According to my text, lie comes "out of tho ivory palaces." You kuow, or if you do not know I will tell you now, tint some of thepnlaces of ol len time were adorned with Ivory. Ahab and Solomon hnd their homes furnished with It. The tusks of African and Asiatic elephants were twisted into all manner of shapes, and there were stairs of ivory, and chairs of ivory, and tables of ivory, and floors of Ivory, and pillars of Ivory, and windows of ivory, uud fountains that dropped into basins of ivory, and rooms that had ceilings of ivory. Oh, white and overmastering beau ty! Green tree brauches sweeping the white curbs. Tapestry trailing the snowy floors. Brackets of light flashing on tha lustrous snrroundings. Silvery music rip pling on the beach of tho arches. The more thought of it almost stuns ray brain, nnd you say: "Ob, if I could only have walked over such lioorsl If I could have thrown myself In such a chair! If I could have heard the drip and dash of those fountains!" Vou shall have something bet ter than that If you only let (Jurist intro duce you. From that place He came, and to that place lie proposes to transport you. for His "garments smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of tho ivory palaces." What a place heaven must bel The Tuileries of the French, tho Windsor Castle of the Eng lish, tho Spanish Alhambra, the Russian Kremlin, are mere dungeons compared with It! Not so many castles on either side the ltbine as on both sides of the river of God —the ivcry pulaces! One for the angels, insufferably bright, winged, lire eyed, tem pest charioted; one for tho martyrs, with blood red robes from under tho altar; ono for the King, the steps of Ills palace the crown of the church militant; one for tho singers, who lead tho 144,000; one for you, ransomed from sin; one for me, plucked from tho burning. Oh, the Ivory palaces! To-day It seems to me as If tho windows of those palaces were illumlnod for some great victory, and I look and see, climbing the stairs of Ivory and walking on floors of Ivory, some whom wo knew and loved on earth. Yes, I know them. There are father and mother, not eighty-two years nnd seventy-nine years, as when they left us, but blithe and voung as when on their marriage day. And there are brothers and sisters, merrier than when we used to romp across the meadows together. The cough gone. The cancer onred. Tho erysipelas healed. The heart break over. Oh, how fair they are in tho Ivory palaces! And your dear ilttlo children that wont out from you—Christ did not let one of them drop as He lifted them. lie did not wrench one of them from you. No they went as from ono they loved well to one whom they loved better. If I should take vour little child and press its soft face against my rough cheek, I might keep it a little while, but when you, the mother, came along, it would struggle to go with you. And so you stood holding your dying child when Jesus passed by In the room, nnd the little one sprang out to greet Him. That is all. Your Christian dead did not go down Into the dust and the gravel and the mud. Though it rained all that funeral day, and the water came up to the wheel's hub as yon drove out to the cemetery, it made no difference to them, for they s'tepped from the home here to the home there, rlgnt into the Ivory paluce6. All is well with them. All Is well. It Is not a dond weight that you lift when you carry a Christian out. Jesus makes the bod up soft with velvet promises, and He says:"Put her down hero very gently. Put that head which will never ache again ou this pillow of hallelujahs. Send up worl that the procession is coming. Ring tho bells, lllngl Open your gates, ye ivory palacesl" And so your loved ones are there. They are just as certainly there, having died in Christ, as that you are here. There is only one thing more they want. Indeed, there Is ono thing In heaven thev have not got. They want It. What 13 It? Your company. But, ob, my brother, un less you change your tack you cannot reach that harbor. You might as well take the Southern Pacific Railroad, expecting in that direction to reach Toronto, as togo ou in the way 9ome of you are going, aud yet expect to reach tho ivory palaces. Your lovod ones are looking out of the windows of heaven now, and yet you seem to turn your baek upon them. When I think of that place and think of my entering it, I foel awkward. I foel as sometimes when I have been exposed to the weather, and my shoes have been be mlred, aud my coat is soiled, and my hair Is disheveled, and I stop In front of somo fine residence where I have an errand. I feel not lit togo in as I nm nnd sit among the guests. So some of us feol nbout heaven. We need to bo washed; we need to be rehabilitated before we go Into the ivory places. Eternal God, lot the surges of Thy pardoning mercy roll over us. I want not ouly to wash my hands and my i«et( but, like some skilled diver, standing ou the pier heal, who leaps Into the wavo and comes up at a far d Ist nut point from where ho went in, so I want togo down, and so I waut to come up. O Jesus, wash me.ln the waves of Thy salvation! Aud here I ask you to solve a mystery that has been oppressing mo for thirty vears. I have been asking It of doctors of ilivluity who have been studying theology half a century, and they have given mo 110 satisfactory answer. I have turned over all the books In my library, but got no solution to the question, and to-day I come and ask you for an explanation l)y what logic was Christ induced to exchange the Ivory palaoes of heaven for the cruci fixion agonies of enrth? I shall take the first thousand million years In heaven to study out that problem; mean while und now taking It as the tenderer, mightiest of all facts that Christ did come, that lie came with spikes in His feet, came with thorns in Ills brow, came with spetwrs In His heart, to save you and to savo me. "God so loved the world that He gave Ills only begottou Son, that whosoever Celteveth In Him should not perish, but have overlastlng life." O, Christ, whelm ull our souls with Thy com passion! Mow them down like sumtnei grain with the harvesting sickle of Thy grace! Ride through to-day the conqueror. Thy garu-ents smelling "of myrrh andaloef and cassia out of the ivory palacesl" A TEMPEItANCE COLUMN. THE DRINK EVIL MADE MANIFEST IN MANY WAYS. An Ox on Trial—Distinguished Sol<l!er« Who Have Keen Strong Advocates ol Total Abstinence in the Army—Their ICeasons For This Are Unanswerable. I knew an old farmer who kept a big ox. He ate a groat dual but worked not a stroke; Men put him in pound as tight as a box, And placed on his aeck a big iron yoke; l'liey led him whole Uelds of the best of the corn. Cut he pushed like the devil with the point of bis horn And oft from his pound and his keepers he broke. With a terrible rush the pavement he'd take, Or sweep with his horns the thick crowded street; All barriers and fences to check him he'd break, And hood and run over whomever he'd meet; His nostrils were red with the blood that he shed, His pathway was strewed with the dying and dead, From the thrust of his horns or the tread of his feet. Of this horrible ox the townsmen all spoke. Of his pound and his keepers and vic tims, Torlorn; Some said ho was safe for he wore a big yoke, And others said not because of his horn. The creature, some said, deserved to be killed; Some argued, his pound mon higher ihould build, And instanced the market he made for tho corn. In spite of his yoke and his keepers 'lwa3 found. Since the owner paid license and bought up the corn, That "respectable" men would open the pound, And let out the ox, with the terrible horn; [T some would complain of terror and pain, And point to the victims the monster had slain. They were laughed at as "cranks" and hooted with scorn. A wise man, at last, with this wickedness vexed. A volume, well-worn, irom his side pocket drew; "'Hear, townsmen," he said, "I'll read vou u text. Which tells with the owner and ox what to do." He read, and the people with merciless stones Crushed in the ox-monster, his horns and his bones, Then righteously slew the ox-owner, too. —Joel Swartz, In Natioual Advocate. Soldiers and Drink. Sir Garnet Wolseley, in a letter to Mr. .Tollti Bailey, President Granthan Temper ance Society ,on At>ril 21, 1881, wrote: "The cause of temperance is the cause of social advancement. Temperance means less crime, and more thrift, and more com fort and prosperity for the people. Near ly all the crime In our army can be traced to intoxication, and 1 have always found that when with any army or body ortroop3 lu the Held there was no issue of spirits, and where their use was prohibited, the health as well the conduct was all that could be wished for." On another occasion, in 1981, he wrote: j "About ninety per cent, of the crime in I our army is owing to drunkenness, and i when our men are removed from the lemp ■ tation of intoxicating liquor crime is prac ; tieally unknown among us." i After he had become Lord Wolseley he j wrote, in 1894: "There are yet some great ] battles to be fought, some great enemies | to be encountered by the United Kingdom. Uut the most pressing enemy is drink. It kills more than all our newest weapons of warfare, and not only destroys the body, but the mind and soul also." On another occasion he said: "The su perstitions about grog are only maintained by those who mistake the craving* of habit for those of nature. The experiences of our armies nil over the world show that the health, character and efficiency of our men are improved by substituting other i beveruges for strong drink." In support of the last quotation given might be u«ed what he said in regard to his experience, which was as follows: "During the operations I conducted In South Africa, in 1879, my :>wu personal escort was composed almost exclusively of teetotallers. They bad very hard work to do, but grumbling wa< never heard from tbem, and a better behaved | set of men I was never assisted with, a , fact I attribute to their being almost all 1 total abstainers." j Sir Evelyn Wood, in 1882, said: "Through ! out the Crimea those were the best and i most healthy soldiers and sailors who did j not touch intoxicating drink." Hi also ! served three years In India, Including the last Hfteon months of the mutiny, and he j :ould positively state that those who drank i nothing were the best men. He went to the Gold Coast, and, during the 150 days they were iu one place ho put In 146 days' service, only to 11 nd himself beaten by a man who was a teetotaller. During the last three days he had rounded the Cape j 3f Good Hope four times, and he found that the stokers who had to work in the | heated stoke holes of the large ocean I 9teamors never drank anything but barley wuter in the tropics, i Sir Henry Havelock says that "at the fall ; jf Ghuznee, in the Afghan war, the self-de ulal, mercy and generosity of the sold'ers I irose from tho fact that they had no spirit rations," and he added: "Since then it ha 9 been proved that troop 9 can make forced marches of forty miles and storm a fortress In forty-flve minutes, without the aid of :um, behaving after success with a for ocarance and humanity unparalleled ID History." Stonewall Jackson declared "He was more afaid of brandy than outlets in the | irav." Colonel Dawes, of the Bengal Artillery, | fays: "My experience is that nearly all the j :rlmo affecting our European troops In • India has originated in the use of spiritu )us liquors." Increased Female Drunkenness. Sir Wilfred Lawson told the meetiug of ;he Women's Total Abstinence Union that je had come from a good stand-up light in :he House of Commons on the Drink Ques :ion. The question was, whether the Soot :ish people should choose whether they would have drink shops set up among their Douses or not. Appalling statistics were givon to the meeting, largly composed of ladles, cf female intemperance. It waa • bown that there were lu 1878 about 500f I women who bad been convicted ten times ind upwards: but in 189S there w'ere nearly 13,000. The Crusade in Brief, Rev. Theodore Cuvler. D. D., signed the •otal abstinence pledge when ten years ild. i The temperance people of Birmingham, Ala., have by agitation compelled the sa oons to close on Sundays. A movement I) exclude liquor dealers Tom church membership has been started n Louisville, Ky., by Rev. T. T. Eaton. D. 1 >., pastor of one of the wealthiest churches n that city. It is stated thnt the banks in Kansas jftvc larger deposits iu proportion to lopulatlon that any other State in the I Jnlon except Maine. Kanstii end Mains ure prohibition State*
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers