THe ALL-HEARING,
The wint is rising, and the trees
Bob their heartfelt sympathies,
While my ery is caughtand tossed
By the tempest—then is Jost.
But the Master, who has wrought
Mu-ic of Hissweetest thouzht,
Hears the least discoriant tone
So my cry is hearl by Oae.
—TNavel Scott Mines, In Harper's Weekly.
MARCGERY'S SITUATION.
HE Emersons were
slaves, bound hard
fast to the tyranny
of custom—the
boundage of keep-
nz up a fashiona-
bleappearance with
inadequate means
to support it.
Upon Mrs. Emer-
son and Harry, the
only son, the yoke
did rot weigh heawily, but it sorely
gailed Mr. Mmcrsou; and Margery, the
only daughter, chafed azainst it with all
the ineffectual impatience of her seven-
tcen years.
«Iafe would be so much easier if we
could only give up pretending!” she
cried ; but her mother and Herry scoffed
at her philosophy. The strivinz and
pretending, the staving off one debt and
getting 1uto another went on apace.
Lying alone in the hammoc< in the
fragrant twilight of a late May day,
Margery was thinking over things mn
general with a noble discontent, when
suddenly from the room beyoud she
heard the voices of her mother and
father. Mrs. Emerson's tones were con-
ciliatory, as they were to be when she
sought some new favor; her husband’s
accents wereshrill and impatient, as if
his last thread of endurance were
strained.
+¢] thought, Henry, you'd like the idea
of Margery taking this trip with the
Pages.”
s+Like it? Yes, immensely, but I
we shall all be called upen to take a trip
to the poorhouse instead. I came to
that conclusion this morning when three
of Master Harry's bills were fcrwarded
me, each of them four times larger than
it ought to be.”
«“Well, but Henry, you can't expect a
young man to get t.rough Harvard with-
out bills.”
The conciliatory tones was dashed
with defiance now, and the sharpness of
the answering voice was increased.
«J don’t expect it. Considering the
sort of young man Harry is, I should be
a fool if I did. And yet I don’t blame
him half so much as I blame myself. I
started him wrong. He'd be twice the
man he is now if he had been making
his living for the last two years, insteacl
of vying with millionaires’ sons, acting
as though my poor httle bucket of re-
sources were an inexhaustible spring.
And though it is different with Margery,
the principle is the same. With all that
her private schools have done for her, I
doubt if she could earn a dollar for her-
self, and who knows how soon she may
need it!”
All this was so wildly unlike her much
enduring, indulgent father that for a
moment the unwilling listener on the
piazza felt inclined to doubt both his
identity and her own; but her disposi-
tion was so like his that she felt an im-
patient pity for the feebleness of her
mother’s 1eply.
¢But Henry! Harry will be sure to
repay you some day, and a girl as bright
and pretty as Margery cannot fail to
marr; well.”
*‘Now, May,” he answered, with added
vehemence, ‘‘that is just where the rot-
tennesss of our system comes in. Harry
will never repay me, for he has not been
brought up to any sense of moral obliga-
tion. If he would put his shoulder to
the wheel, I could manage to get through
somehow. But I have no hopes ot him.
*“Why, to-day my friend Sinclair pro-
posed giving Harry a place as clerk for
the summer, in his summer hotel in
Maine. But none of that sort of thing’
for my son and heir! He is going with
a party to the Adirondacks. ¢‘Margery
—bless the child !—would take a cham-
bermaid’s place, I believe, if she thought
that by doing so she could save me one
pang. Butl doubt if she could do even
that. All her chances, it seems, are
staked on a wealthy marriage—a pretty
poor ambition, it strikes me, for days
like these.”
Then it was that Margery, like some
Jyodern Joan of Arc, heard a voice
which whispered of a conflict beyond
with the hope of a victory. Then it was
that, leaning over the piazza rail, she
said excitedly to hersalf:
“[ will! Y’ll give Harry a chance first,
for he could save papa more than half
this worry, If he reluses to help me,
I'll give him a lesson he will not forget
very soon."
The next evening Harry came home to
vpend Sunday. Margery attacked him
with all her might and main. Keeping
her own project completely in the back-
ground, she appealed to his sense of jus-
tice, his sympathy, his manliness, and
every other virtue it might be possible
for him to possess; but there was not a
shadow of care upon Harry's handsome
face as he said:
*‘Now, Margery, you were always an
agitator, but I think it's a little ucfair to
work on my feelings so near the end of
the year. You'd be eaten up with re-
morse if you got me so unstrung that I
couldn’ pass. And anyway, old girl,
d.cher's all right. This sort of thing
has been going on ever since I remem-
ber. There's always more or less of a
racket, but we get there just the same.”
*¢And to save him a little of the rack-
ot—to show him that, after all, he
needn't despair of you—you’ll not take
this position with Mr. Sinclair, instead
of going to the Adirondacks?”
Harry only laughed. ¢‘I wasn’t made
for a hotel clerk, Margery. I haven't
diamonds enough; and besides, I prom-
1sed Fitch and Morrison months ago that
I'd go with them. A gentleman never
breaks his word, you know.”
the scorn in her eyes deterred him, and
his laughter subsided under her reply.
«But tte centleman mav break his
father’s heart one of these days, or tempt
kim to try how fast a bullet can take
him out of his troubles.”
Harry gave a long whistle. ¢Mar-
cerv,” he cried, **what is 3 fellow to do
under a tongue like yours?”
But Margery knew sadly well that,
thoush he was neither bad at heart nor
v cious, the *'fellow” in question loved
his own pleasure too well to do the thing
she required of him. Whea he had gone
ste whispered to herself:
++I shall have to do it! It's just as
heroic treatment tor me as for him, but
I don't teel as if I could draw back
now."
A day or two later, having still fur-
ther matured ber plans, she said to her
mother:
“If you don't mind, mamma, I should
like go to Boston this week to visit
Cousin Sally. You know she’s been ask-
inz me ever since I wrote her that I
could not go to school on account of my
eyes. I am sure she will not think it too
much if I go for a few days now, and go
again for Commencement week.”
Now Cousin Sally was a maiden lady,
with just such radical proclivities as
were beginning to make themselves ap-
parent in Miss Margery. Mrs. Emerson
hesitated as to giving her consent. Then
she saw the other side of the question.
In both social and financial respects
Miss Sally Parkhurst could atford to do
as she pleased. Her favor was a thing
to te desired. Margery did need a
change, and last of all, this often un-
wise but always loving mother hated to
refuse her children anything.
“Very well,” she said; ¢*but you must
not stay too long. We'll have your
Class-day dress made next week, and
you know how important it is that you
should be here to try it on.”
«Oh, I know it's very important,”
wily Margery answered, gravely; add-
ing then, “I promise I will not stay long
with Cousin Sally.” .
According to the letter of it, she kep
her word. 8he ouly stayed over a
ccuple of days in the tall old West End
house which had sheltered several gen-
erations of Parkhursts, but into those
days was crowded much ccmfort and
encouragement. From this oid house,
on the afternoon of the third day, a
in hand, set out for Cambridge, and
Miss Sally followed her in spirit with
some anxiety and much sympathy.
Margery’s scheme was to Cousin Sally's
liking but handsome Harry, busy with
his own plans and ambitions, had not
faintest premonition that Nemedis was
approaching him.
/ So far as his gay, easy-loving disposi-
tion would permit, those days were anx-
ious ones even to him. But his spirits
did not suffer thereby, and it was with
an appetite wholly unimpaired that he
walked into his boarding-house in time
for dinner on the evening of the day of
Margery’s pilgrimage to Cambridge.
There were several things on his mind
just then, and a somewhat depressing
letter from his father was in his pocket.
But Fitch was telling a fuany story as
Harry seated himself.
Catching the point in his own quick
way, he laughed as heartily over 1t as
any. Then he himself told an anecdote
apropos of the other, and was listening
to a confldence from his neighbor on the
right.
“Say, E nerson, Miranda has gone
away. We have a new table girl, and
she’s a beauty,”
Then behind him the new girl spoke:
¢4\Vill you have mulligatawy or lamb
broth, sir?”
If he had lost his composure complete-
ly; if he had jumped up and denounced
her, or even if he had fainted betore his
mulligatawny cculd reach him, this new
table girl would hsrdly have been sur-
prised. But he did neither of these
thing.
Starting slightly, he turned around
and looked her in the face; but though
his own ruddy cheek did change color,
there was no recognition in his gaze. In
the coolest possible voice he replied,
“Broth, please!”
Then Morrison across the table called
out mockingly: *‘Our friend KXmerson's
struck all of a heap with so much youth
and beauty.”
Emerson, quite in his usual manner,
auswered, *‘U’mn all of that, I assure
you.”
But all his sanz froid could not pre-
vent him from finding that dinner a bit-
ter one; and his, father’s letter in his
pocket seemed to have gained an added
weight.
An hour or two later he retraced his
steps toward the boarding house, rang
the bell, and brought the landlady her-
self to the door.
“I want to see that new table girl,
Mrs. Coffin,” he said. ¢'She left my
mother only this week, and I have a
message for her.”
‘Oh, it’s all right,” he added, impa-
tiently, as Mrs. Coffin lingered with
some 1nquiry in her eyes; ¢‘you needn’t
be afraia.”
Concluding that even if it were all
wrong she had nothing to fear, the land-
lady went out at once and seat the girl
no.
Margery came with her pretty head
erect, and no fear in her innocent eyes.
But tumult was in her heart, and at first
she could not tind voice to answer his
imperious greeting.
“May I ask the meaning of this mas-
queradiug, Miss Emerson? Whatever it
18, you certainly choose a nice way to
disgrace both yourself and me,” he said,
still more angrily, after a moment's
pause, and then she flashed upon him.
“There never was any disgrace in
honest work! It’s you who are in much
more danger of disgracing us all, and
perhaps you will think so yourself if
|
He lightly tried to kiss her then. but [to her. I'm not clever, I know. but I! New York Advertiser.
your selfishness and extravagance kills
papa. He is just sick with anxiety now,
and you could save him from it if you
only would, I am sure you could live
on half what you do, and you have so
much influence with mamma that she
would save, too, if you would only talk
-evening.
| her happy tears, felt almost as if she
trembling thought hopeful maiden, bag.
could do the housemaid's work, and I |
would, but you will not do anything.
You refused to take that situation, and
you only laughed at me when I talked to
you the last time you were home. And
then I just made up my mind that if you
were too proud te work I'd show you
that I wasn’t!”
All through this torrent of words her
brother walked angrily around, affecting
not to listen. But he stood still now,
looking sternly aad seriously into her
face.
+¢And you will stay here and do this
menial work just for the sake of shaming
me?”
Put in this way she did not like the
sound of 1t, but she held her ground un-
flinchingly.
+*[ not only mean to say it, but I mean
to do it. Ob, you need not look at me
like that! I don't like it—you may be
sure. 1 could have sunk into the ground
this evening when those young men
joked about me. But I've begun, and I
am going to go on. I’m not going to
be a sham or a burden one day longer.”
He walked away from her then, and
leaning against the mantel, remained in
utter silence fully five minutes. To most
of us, however ease-loving or however
bardened, there are moments when it is
given us to see a new heaven and a new
earth; and to Harry Emerson this flash
of inspiration came as he stood studying
the border of shells wherewith Mrs.
Coffin had flanked her fireplace.
Margery watched him with intense
anxiety. Under all her pain and disap-
pointment she had still such faith in him
that it was hot wholly a surprise to her
when, returning to her side, he said,
with all the anger gone from his voices
«We must call Mrs. Coffin in and ex-
plain to her, Margary. Say anything
you like—I don't care—but I'm going
to take yom into Cousin Sally's this
Your mission is accomplished.
I'll take the hotel place or do anything
else that I can to help; and when I fail,
I'll give you leave to go out to service
again as fast as you please.”
Margery, looking up at him through
were marring the splendor of his surren-
der by saying as she did
«‘But, Harry, I must tell you! Cousin
Sally said that if you saw things this
way, she would pay every debt youowe,
and help papa out of the tight place he
is in. She never did help us before, she
said, because we seemed to her so lack-
ing in principle.”
But even when Miss Sally had helped
them to such an extent that they soon
sailed past all the breakers of which I
bave written, Harry's new manliness
proved seaworthy. So effectually, in-
deed, did he learn the lesson which
Margery gave, that his contributions to
the family exchequer saved her from any
need to take a situation.—Youth's
Companion. :
ees Een
The South Alrican Republic.
Hidden within the mountain ridges of
the land locked Transvaal lie such rich
deposits of gold and so fertile a soil that
it may well have excited the desires of
England for its possession, although,
until now, it has succeeded in practically
maintaining freedom from European
domination. We have a few salient
facts regarding the country.
The South African Republic, als»
known ds the Transvaal, touches on the
east Portuguese Africa and Zulu Land;
south, Natal and the Orange Free State;
west and north, Bechuana Land dnd
British South Africa. It would be en-
tirely shut in from the coast but for the
recent annexation of a small part of
Swaziland and Amatonga Land, giving
a narrow access to the ocean at Cosi Bay.
The country’s area is 113,642 square
miles, divided into eighteen districts.
Its white population is 119,128, and
native, 560,064.
The capital is Pretoria, with a popula.
tion of 5000, but Johannesburg, Lyden-
burg and Utrecht are also important
cities. The Trarsvaal was originally
settled by Boers from Cape Colony and
Natal, and its independence was recog-
nized by European powers in 1852. In
1877 it was annexed by England, but
three years later, after a resort to arms,
self government was restored. Great
Britain retains control of foreign affairs.
The executive is vested in a President,
assisted by a Cabinet, and there are two
electetd legislative bodies known as the
First and Second Volksraad. The Dutch
Reformed Church is the principal relig-
ious body, and there are 300 schools.
Although gold is mined extensively in
the Barberton, Witwatersand and nine-
teen cther gold fields, the chief pursuits
are agriculture, stock raising and ostrich
farming, soil and climate being espe-
cially lavorable. The exports are wool,
cattle, hides, grain, ostrich feathers,
ivory, gold and other minerals. The
imports for 1890 amounted to $27,500,-
000, on which the custom duties were
$1,905,950.
The country’s mineral wealth has at-
tracted thither so many miners from the
United States and Great Britain that in
a few years the naturalized Anglo-Saxon
element in the Transvaal may dominate
the early Dutch settlers. In such a case,
we may look to see the restoration of
English rule and the probable inaugura-
tion of an era of increased prosperity
for the Republic.—Mail and Express.
ress ame SEI eS
Sandwich Island Brides.
The following is said to be the manner
a Sandwich Islander proposes marriage
when he falls a victim to the tender pas-
sion:
The chief told her that if she would
become his wife he would send a hun-
dred sea otters to her friends; that he
would never ask her to carry wood, draw
water, dig for roots or hunt for pro-
visions; that he would make her mistress
over his other wives, and permit her to
git at her ease from morning till night
and wear her own clothes; that ehe
should always have abundance of fat
salmon, anchovies and elk, and be
allowed to smoke as many pipes of to-
bacco as she thought proper, together
with many other flattering inducements.
TALMAGE'S EASTER SERMON
scent
WHEN DEAD AWAKE.
remit
The Bodies Will Arise With All Imper-
fections Washed Away,
—— ent
TEXT: “Now 1s Chr: st risen from the dead
and become the first fruits of them that
slept.”—I Corinthians xv., 20,
On this glorious Easter morning, araid the
music ani the flowers, I give you a Chrise
tian salutation. This morning Russian
meeting Russian on the stre-ts of St. Peters-
borg hails him with the salutation, *‘Christ
isrisen!” and is answersi by his friend in
salutation, *‘He is risen indeed!” Iu soma
parts of England and Ireland, to this very
day, there is the su erstition that on E ister
morning the sun dances in the heavens, and
well may we forgive such a superstition
which illustrates the fact that the natural
word seems to sympathize with the spirit.
Hail, Easter morninz! Flowers! Flow-
ers! All of them a-voice, all of them
a-tongue, all of them full of h to-day.
I bend over one of the lilies at Ihearitsay:
“Consider the lilies of the field, how they
grow; they toil not, neither do they spin,
et Solomon in all nis glory was not arrayed
ike one of these.” I bend over a rose, and
it seems to whisper: *‘I am the rose of Sha-
ron.” And then I stand and listen. From
all sides there comes the chorus of flowers,
saying: . *‘If God so clothed the ‘grass of the
field, which to-day is and to-morrow is cast
into the oven, shall He not much more
clothe you, O ye of little faith?”
Flowers! F.owers! Braid them into the
bride’s hair. Flowers! Fiowers! Strew
them over the graves of the dead, sweet
ophecy of the resurrection. Flowers!
lowers! Twist them into a garland for my
Lord Jesus on Easter morning. “Glory be
to the Father, and to the Son, and to the
Holy Ghost; as it was 1 the beginning, is
now and ever shall be.”
Ob, bow bright and how beautiful the
flowers, and how'much they make think
of Christ and His religion toat brightens our
character, brightens society, brightens the
church, brightens everything! You who go
with gloomy countenance pretending you:
are better than I am becauss of your lugue
briousness, you cannot cheat me. Pretty
case you are for a man that professes to be
more than a conqueror. It is not religion
that makes you gioomy, it is the lack of it,
There is just as much religion in a wedding
asin a burial, just as much religion in a
smile as in a tear.’
These gloomy Christians wa sometimes
see are the people to whom I like to lend
money, for I never see them again, e
women came tothe Savior’s tomb, and they
dropped spices all around the tomb, and
those spices were the sead that began to
grow, and from them came all the flowers of
this Kaster morn. The two angels robed in
white took hold uf the stone at the Savior’s
tomb, and th:y hurled it with such force
down the hill that it crushed in the door of
the word's sepulchre, and she stark and the
dead must come forth, .
I care not how labyrinthine the muuso-
leum or how costly the sarcophagus or how-
ever beautifully parterred the family
grounds, we want them all broken up by the
Lord of the resurrection, ‘I'hey must come
out, Father and mother—they must come
out, Husband andi wife—they must come
out. Brother and siscer—they must come
out. Our darling children—they must come
out. The eyes that we close with such
trembling fingers must opsn again in the
radiance of that morn. ‘l'une arms we folded
in dust must join ours in an embracs of re-
union. The voice that was husaed in our
dwelling must be returned. Oh, how long
some otf you seem to be waiting—waiting
for the resurrection, waiting! And for
these broken hearts to-day I make a soff,
cool bandage out of Easter towers,
My frienas, [ find in the risen Christ a
prophecy of our awn. resurrection, my text
setting forth the ideathat as Christ nas arisen
so Hispeople will rise. He—the first sheaf of
the resurrection harvest. He—‘the first
fruits of them that slept.” Before I get
through this morning 1 will walk through
all the cemeteries of the dead, through all
the country graveyards, where your beloved
ones are buried, and I will pluck off these
flowers, and I will drop a sweet promise of
the gospel— a rose of hope, a lily of joy on
every tomb—the child’s tomb, the husband’s
tomb, the wife's tomb, the father’s grave,
the mother’s grave, and while we celebrate
the resurrection of Christ we will at the
same time celebrate the resurrection of all
the good. **Christ the first fruits of them
saat slept.”
It 1 should come to you this mor ing and
ask you for the names of the great conquer-
ors of the world, you would say Alexander,
Cesar, Philip, Napoleon I. Ah! my friends,
you have forgotten to mention the name of
a greater conqueror than all of these—a
crue, a ghastly conqueror. He who rode on
a black horse across Waterloo azd Atlanta
and Chalons, the bloody hoots crushing the
hearts of nations. Itis the conqueror Death.
Again and again has he dJue this work
with all generations. He isa monarch as
well as a conqueror; his palaca a sepulcher;
his fountains the ialling tears of a world.
Blessed be God, in the light of this Easter
morning I see the prophzcy that his scepter
shall be broken and his palace shall be de-
molished, The hour is coming when all wno
are in their graves shall come forth, Christ
risen, we shall rise. Jesus ‘‘the first fruits
ot them that slept.” Now, around this doc-
trine of the resurrection tnere are a great
many mysteries,
You come to me this morning and say,
‘It the bodies of the dead are to be raised,
how is this and how is that?” And you asc
mea thousand questions 1 am incompetent
To answer, bul there are a great many
things you believe that you are not. able to
explain. You would be a very foolish man
to say, “I won't believe anything I can't
understand.”
1 find my strength in this passage, “All
who are in their graves shall come forth.”
I donot pretend to make the explanation.
You cap goon and say: ‘‘Supposea re-
turned missionary dies in Brooklyn. When
he was in China, his foot was amputated.
He lived years after in England. and there
he had an arm amputated. He is buried
to-day in Greenwood. Inthe resurrection
will the foot come from China, will the arm
come from England, and will the different
parts of the body be reconstructed in the
resurrection? How is that possible?’
You say that ‘the human body changes
every seven years, and by seventy years of
age a man has had ten bodies. In the
resurrection which will come up?’ Ypu say,
‘*A man will die and his body erumble into
dust and that dust be taken up into the life
of the vegetable. An animal may eat the
vegetable; men eat the animal. In the
resurrection that body, distributed in so
many directions, how shall it be gathered
up?’ Have yon any more questions of this
style to ask? Come on and ask them, I do
not pretend to answer them. I fall back
upon the announcement of God's word, **All
who are in their graves shall come forth.”
You have noticed, I suppose, in reading
the story of the resurrection that almost
every account of the Bible gives the idea that
the characteristic of that day will be a great
sound. I do not know that it will ba very
loud, but I know it will be very penetrating,
In the nausoleum, where silence has reigned
a thousand years, that voic> must pene
trate. In the coral cave of the deep that
voice must penetrate.
All along the sea route from New York to
Liverpool at every few miles where a steam-
er went down departed spirits coming back
hovering over the wave. "There is where
the City of Boston perished, Found at last.
There is where the President perished,
Steamer found at last. There is where the
Central America went down, Spirits
hovering—hundreds of spirits hovering,
waiting for the reunion of body and soul.
Out on ths prairie a spiritalights. There is
where a traveler died in the snow. Crash!
goes Westminster Abbey, and the poets and
orators come forth; wonderful ming ling of
good and bad. Crash! go the pyramids of
Ezypt, and the monarcis come forth.
Who can sketch the scene? I suppose that
cne moment before that general rising there
will be an entire silenca saveas you hear the
grinding of a wheel or a clat‘er of the hoofs
of a procession passing int> the cemetery.
Silence in all the cavesof the earth. Silenca
on the side of the mountsin. Silence down
in the valleys ani far out inio the sea.
Silence.
But in a moment, in the twinkling of an
eye, as the archangels trumpet comes peal-
ing, rolling, crashing across mountain and
ocean, the earth will give one terrific shud-
der, and the graves of tha dead will heave
like ths waves of the sea, and Ostend and
Sebastopol and Chalons will stalk forth in
the I air, ani the drowned will coma up
and wring out their wet locks above the bil-
low, and all the land and all the sea become
one moving mass of life—all faces, all age ,
all conditions, gazing in oné direction and
upon one throne—the throne of resurrection,
“All who are in their graves shall come
forth.”
“But,” you say, *‘if this doctrine of the
resurrection is true as prefigured by this
Easter morning, Christ, ‘the first fruits of
them that sle Christ rising a promise and
a prophecy of the rising of all people,
can you tell us something avout the resur-
rected body?” Ican. There are mysteries
about that, but I shall teil you three or four
th in d to the resurrec
sak are beyond guessing and beyond mis-
In the first place, [ remark, in rd to
ror résurrecsed body, it will be ie
y. The body we have now is a mer:
skeleton of what it would bave been if sim
hada not marred and defaced it. Take the
most exquisite statue that was ever made by
an artist and chip it here and chip it thers
witha chisel and batter and bruise it here
and there and then stand it out in the storms
of a hundred years, and the beauty would
be gone,
Well, the human body has been chipped
and battered and bruised and damaged with
the storms of thousands of years—the phys.
jcal defects of other generations coming
aown from generation to generation, wo in.
herising the infelicities of past generations,
but in the morning of the resurrection the
body will be adorned and beautified accord-
ing to the original model. And there 1s no
such difference between a gvmnast and an
emaciated wretch in a lazaretto as there will
be a difference between our bodies as they
are now and our resurrected forms. :
There you will see the perfect eye affex
the waters of death have washed out the
stains of tears and study. There you will
see the perfect hand after the knots of toil
have been untied from the knuckles. There
you will see the form erect and elastic after
the burdens have gone off the shoulder—the
very life of God in the body. ’
In this world the most impressive thing,
the most expressive thing, is the human
face, but that face is veiled with the griefs
of a thousand years, but in the resurrection
morn that veil will be taken away from the
face, and the noonday sun is: dull and dim
and stupid compared with the outflamin;
glories of the countenances of the saved.
en those faces of the righteous, those re-
surrected faces, turn toward the gate or
look up toward the throne, it will be like
the dawning of a new morning on the bosom
of RVeTiasunE day! Oa, glorious resur-
rec y!
But I remark also, in regard to that body
which you are to get in the resurrection, it
will be an immortal body. These bodies are
wasting away, Somebody has said as soon
48 we begin to live we begin to die. Unless
we keep putting the fusl into the furnace
the furnace dies out. The blood vessels are
canals taking the breadstuffs to all parts of
the system. © must be reconstructed hour
by hour, day by day. Sickness and death
are all the time trying to get their prey un-
der the tenement, or to push us off the em-
bankment of the grave; but, blessed be God,
in the resurrection we will get a body im-
mortal.
No malaria in the air, no cough, no neu-
ralgic twinge, no rheumatic pang, no flut-
tering of the heart, no shortness of
breath, no ambulance,” no dispensary, no
hospita', no invalid’s coair, no specta cies to
improve the dim vision, but health, im-
mortal health! Oh ye who have aches and
pains indescribable this morning—Oh ye
who are never well—Oh ye who are lacerated
with physical distresses, let ‘me tell you of
the resurrected body, free from all disease.
Immortal! Immortal! '
I will go further and say, in regard to that
body which you are to get in the resurrec-
tion, it will be a powerful body. e walk
now eight or ten miles, and we are fatigued;
we lift a few hundred poun is, and we are ex-
hausted. unarmed, we meet a wild beast,
and we must run or fly or climb ui dodge,
because we are incompetent to meet it; we
toil eight or ten hours vigorously, and then
we are weary, but in the resurrection we are
to have a body that never gets tired. Isit
not a glorious thought?
+ Plenty of occupation in heaven. I suppose
Broadway, New York, in the busiest season
of the year at mnoonday is not so busy as
heaven is all the time. Grand projects of
mercy for other worlds, Victories to be
celebrated. The downfall of despotisms on
earth to be announced. Great songs to be
learned and sung. Great exvedicions on
which Ged shall send forth His children.
Plenty to do, but no fatigue. If you are
seated under the trees of life, it will not be
to rest, but to talk over with some old com-
rade old times—the battles where you fought
shoulder to shoulder. .
Sometimes in this world we fesl we would
like to have such a body as that. There is
so much work to be done for Christ, there
are so many tears to be wi away, thers
are so many burdens to lift, there is so much
to be achieved for Corist, we sometimes wish
that from the first of Jamuary to the last of
December we could toil on without stopping
to sleep, or take any recreation, or to rest,
or even to take iood=-that we could toil
right on without stopping a moment in our
work of commending Christ and heaven to
all the people. But we all get tired.
It is characteristic ol the human body
in this condition, We must get tired. is
it not a glorious thought that after a while
we are going to have a body that will never
get weary? Ch, glorious resurrection day,
ladly will I fling aside this poor body of
gin and fling it into the tomb, if at Thy bid-
ding I shall have a body that never wearies.
That was a splendid resurrection hymn that
was sung at my father’s burial:
So Jesus slept. Goda’s dying Son’s
Passed through tne grave and blessed the bed.
Rest here, blest saint, till from His throne
The morning breaks to pierce the shade.
O blessed resurrection. Speak out, sweet
flowers, beautiful flowers, while you teil of
a risen Christ and tell of the righteous who
shal! rise. May God flll you this morning
with anticipation!
1 heard of a father and son who among
others were shipwrecked at sea. The father
and the son climbed into the rigging. The
father held on, but the son after a while lost
his hold in therigging and was dashed down.
The father supposed be had gone hopelessly
under the wave. The next day the father
was brought ashore from the rigging in an
exhausted state and laid in a bed in a fisher-
man’s hut, and after many hours had passed
be came to consciousness and saw lying be-
side him on the same bed his boy.
Oh, my friends, what a glorious thing it
wil! be when we wake up at last to find our
loved ones beside us. Coming up from the
same plot in the graveyard, coming up in
the same morning light —rthe fatner and son
alive forever, all the loved ones alive for-
ever, nevermcre to weep, nevermore to
part, nevermore to die.
May the God of peace that brought again
from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great
shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of
the everlasting covenant, make you perfect
in every good work, to do His will and let
this brilliant scene of the moraing transport
our thoughts to the grander assemblage be-
fore the throne.
This august assemblage is nothing com-
pared with it. The one hundred and forty
and four thousand, and the *‘great multituce
that no man can number,” some of our best
friends among them, we after awhile to
join the multitude. Blessed anticipation!
My son! anticipates the day,
Would stretch her wings and soar away
T'o aid the song, Lhe palm tG bear
And how. the cnet of sinners, there,
“was a perféct and upright man,
SUNDAY SCHOOL
2. ESSON FOR SUNDAY, APRIL 16.
“Job’s Appeal,” Job xxiii., 1-10. Golden
Text: John xiii. Commentary.
1, 2. “Then Job answered and said, Even
to-day is my complaint bitter; my stroke is
heavier than my groaning.” This is the be
ginning of Job's reply to the third address
EEN Each of phaz,
B and Zophar—had spoken twice, and
Job had replied to each in turn. This is the
‘beginning of the third round. In an inter-
esting and instructive little phiet en-
titled **Job and His Friends,” C. HM,
the author thinks that these three stand for
experience, tradition and Jegality—all well
meaning, but unwise in their dealings with
Job. Thedifficulties on each side are summed
up in chapter xxxii.,, 1-3. ey con
demned Job instead of leading him to con.
demn himself, and he justified bimself rather
than God. As tothe beginning of this re-
py of Job, we may often feel t we, too,
ve great cause of complaint, as did Israel
under their discomforts, but it is written,
or en the people complained, it displeased
the Lord” (Num. xi., he ? isp
8. “Ob, that I knew where I might fin
Him; that I mightcome even to Eis seat!"
Eliphaz had said, ‘‘Acquaint now thyseif
with Him and be at paace” (zxii., 21). “Job
replies that his lenging is to doso.
ing to the testimony of God Himself,
earing God
and eschewing evil «i, 8; ii., 8), a. vod
‘‘perfect” meaning in tnis case simple or sin-
cere. Before his friends came, even under
overwhelming afiliction, he was patient and
did not sin nor ge God foolishly (i., 22;
ii., 10), because he felt himself face to faces
with God and that God was dealing with
him, But these men seem to have come be-
tween him and God, and he, in replying to
them and dealing with them, loses sight of
God and gropes in the darkness of his own
wisdom.
4. “I would order my cause before Him
and fill my mouth with arguments.” So it
seemed to Job in his blindness, but it is
evident that he lacks the. broken and con-
trite spirit which only is accaptable to God.
In the story of the two men who went up to
the temple to pray (Luke xviii.,, 10-14) it
‘was the man who would not lift up so much
as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his
breast, saying, *‘God be merciful to me, a
sinner,” who went down to his house justi-
fied rather than the other who thanked God
that he was better than other men.
only when our mouths are stopped as to our
own righteousness that wecan enjoy the free
Justifieation of the gracs of God through His
righteousness (Rom. iii., 19).
5. “I would know the words which He
would answer me and understand what He
would say unto me.” He cannot understand
these friends, and it is very clear they do not
understand him, but he thinks he could un-
derstand God, and he would like to know
what God would say to him. Nodoubt there
are many who think they can sympathiza
with Job in his being so misunderstood.
Well, there is great comfort in looking untd
Him who knows us thoroughly from be-
ginning and can never tind out anything
new about us. He never can or i mis-
understand us. “0, Lord, Thou hast
tearched me and known me” (Ps. cxxxix., 1).
6. “Will He plead against me with His
t power? No, but He would ot strength
n me.” A very little thing willoften bring
the soul into such a place that everything
will look distorted, as whon one sees things
in a fog or with blurred vision. ey!
need constant anointing with heav: eye
salve (Rev. iii.,-18) thdt we may see clearly.
The Holy Spirit can do this, and inasmuch
as we have Him ina sense that Job had Him
not we are more guilty than Job it we allow
onr vision to become so dim, God pleads
not against the sinner, but against sin,
which He hates. He who sought Adam and
Eve and redeemed them and restored them
to a measure of fellowship with promise of
tuture glory is ever the same and is pleading
with the sinner to come to Him, however
sinful he may be, and with the erring to re-
turn to Him, however far off he may bave
wandered. See Isa. i., 18; lv. 6, 7: Jer. iii.,
12-14; Hoe. xiv. 1, 2. :
7, “There the righteous might dispute
with Him: so should I be delivered from my
judge.” Perhaps we cannot tell just what
wasin the mind of Job when he uttered
these words, but this we do know—that
thers is only one righteous person
whose righteousness can stand before God,
and He also has n ordained the
Judge of quick and dead (Il Cor. v., 21; Acts
xvii, 81). However siniui we may be, if
only we come with true penitence to Him
who came into the world to save sinners, He
will mot only not cast us out (John vi., 37),
but He will becom» our righteousness, wis-
dom, sanctifiation and rademption, and we
shall have great cause to glory in Him (I
Cor. i., 80, 81). The Judge being our friend,
our Redeemer, our Substitute, who died in
our stead, what boldness we may have in
the day of Juagment (I John iv., 17).
8. “Behold, I go forward, but He is not
there, and backward, but I cannot perceive
Him.” He reminds us of the bride in the
Song of Songs who, because she had been
self occupied and had not promptly heeded
the voice of her belovea, is compelled to
seek Him very earnestly before she found
Him again. She says, “I sought Him, but I
could not find Him; I called Him, but He
ve me no answer” (Song v., 6. Mauy a
Christian is walking in darkness, out of fel-
lowship with God, use of something or
person which has been allowed to come
nearer to them than -the Lord Himself. He
is not far off, nor hard te find, when we
seek Him with the whole heart (Rom. x., 8,
9; Jer. xxix., 13), and if we would walk con-
tinualiy with Him, ssteeming His fellowship
more than all else, we would pever walk in
kness.
9, ‘On theleft hand, where He doth work
but I cannot behold Him. He hideth Eim-
geif on the right hand that 1 cannot see
Him.” The remarks on the last verse ara
also licable here; and yet there is another
side of the truth. We may walk with Him
in peaceand quietness and yet not know why
He doeth this or that. He may say to us as
to Peter, *“Woat I do thou knowest not now,
but thou shalt know Hereafter.” Aud it will
always be true until “the morning” Saat we
know only in part, but then shall we know
even as also we are known (I Cer. xii1, 9,
12). , x
10. “But He knowth the way that I take.”
Here is our comforr, ‘‘He knoweth.” Jere-
miah’s comfort was, *“Thou, O Lord, knowest
me” (Jer. xii., 3). ‘The Lord Jesus taught us
to find comfort mn these words, ‘Your Heav-
enly Father knoweth” (Math. vi., 32). There-
fore we sing:
£0 [goon not knowing, I would not if I
i .
ight;
Id rie walk in the dark with God than
walk alone in the light,
“When He hath tried me, I shall come
forth as gold.” Therefore he could also say,
*“Though He slay me, yet will I trust 1a
Him" (Job xiii., 13, 15,) or with Isaiah, ‘Be
hold, God is my salvation” (Delivere¥; *I
will trust and not beafraid” (xii., 2).—Lessoa
Helper.
— en
Christians Persecuted In Armenia.
The condition of affairs in Armenia is be-
becoming more serious daily. Constant ar
rests of Armenians ara reported in private
letters. Itis estimated that between 1,800
and 2,000 Christians are ynow in Turkish
dungeons. The recent announcement that
the Sultan had proclaimed a general pardon
of Armenian prisoners was mere humbug.
ieee ie mms
—Jony DoLLARD, a member of “the Nor-
folk, Va., Council and a wealthy wnerchant,
was shot in the throat by a burglar who was
attempting to enter the rear door of his
store. He died within ten minutes.