DS ET RT ETT Comme em ah “THE WHITE CITY.” 1 I Greece was ; Greece is no more. Temple and town Have crumbled down ; Time is the fire that hath consumed them all. Statue and wall In ruin strew the universal floor. In Greece lives, but Greece no more! Its ashes breed The undying seed Blown westward till, in Rome's Imperial towers, Athens reflowers ; Still westward—lo, a veiled and virgin shore! IL fay not, ‘Greece is no moro,™ Through the clear morn On light winds borne Her white-winged soul sinks on the New World's breast. Ah! happy West— Greece flowers anew, and all her temples soar! Iv. One bright hour, then no more Shall to the skies These columns rise. But though art’s flower shall face, again the seed Onward shall spea3, Quickening the land from lake to ocean's roar. v. Art lives, though Greece may never From the ancient mold As once of old Exhale to heaven the inimitable bloom ; Yet from “he tomb Beauty’ lks forthto light the world ror- ever. —D. W. Gilder, in the Century. 1 The Columbian TIair Buildings at Chicago have thus been named by Mr. H. C. Buaner. THE MAN-EATER. pd WILIGHT had faded onthe hills; thegreat disk of the moon was Bil 4» riding over the ser- ial rated hollows of the FL) two great forests. a The earth, still hot § with the dead day’s ad sun, the sudden drop rd er of the breeze, the = roaring of nocturnal beasts of prey, the beauty of the firma- ment above a land still unsubdued by man after thousands of years of civili- zation, the ruthless fecundity, savage, vast as the ether, invincible as the ocean, took possession of, dominated and amazed the mind of James Mac- Carthy, and filled his heart with a full- ness of poetic grandeur. Behind him followed a humble son of India, Bavad- jee, the runner, slender, with high, shrinking shoulders, formed from a minimum of matter, but with a good head, and intelligent and gentle mouth. Before him went Djouna, the guide provided by the village of Nardonares to pilot him to the lair of the tigress, the man-eater, who had that day carried off a laborer. As they advanced, step by step, the murmurs of the night be- came louder and more terrible, the growling of the animals re-echoed over the plain, the huge bate floated athwart the orange light. ‘w. Bavadjee drew closer to MacCarthy; his fright was balanced by a feeling of pride in serving the thick-set Irishman with the belligerent eyes, with the rough, kind face at once irascible and good-natured : “Are we near?” asked James. , *Yes, Sahib.” " At the entrance to a rocky defile Djouns halted tremblingly. He signed with outstretched hand: ‘It is there.” Before them lay a sinuous surface, one of these secluded corners of the jungle where the full sway of natural forces, the struggle of the instincts of animals and plants create a splendor and a puntrefaction. The moonlight lembroidered the fig trees, the somber trunks, the masses of the foliage. It wove a delicate lace work over the ‘great bindweed, the lichens, the castor oil plants, over a pool that was choked with old bark, with half-withered rushes, with bright green water plants. The sky seemed made of scintillating constellations ; wild creatures of wood and water roamed stealthily through the undergrowth, lay in waiting for their prey, or fled at the approach of denger. In the intervals of silence were heard the sighings of a mysterious rivulet which seemed to be subterra- nean, and the distant plaint of jackals. “It is there?” repeated MacCarthy. «Do you know the exact position?” “One day in winter,” answered Djouns, in a low voice, ‘‘when I went in search after a strayed heifer—1I saw the man-eater at the mouth of her cavern.” Inan almost inaudible voice, and trembling in all his limbs, he added: ‘‘She was devouring the re- mains of a young woman! Since then Chandranshour, he who was carried off this evening, witnessed at the same place a similar scene.” ¢¢Ah 1” ejaculated MacCarthy. ‘Then, can you lead me to the very spot?” «f can,” answered the Hindu, with gentle resignation. They roundsd the dense thicket and cams to a natural pathway cut by the winter torrent. The moon, midway from the zenith, sent penetrating shafts of light through the branches. The three men advanced lightly and cautiously, with eyes fixed on the dark- ness. The fret of their clothes against the plants, the tread of their feet on the ground were indistinguishable from the sound of grezing aniials and the slight rustle of the fig leaves. A goft, bodeful coolness emeonated from the undefined denscness of their surroundings. Peril, like an evil gpirit, roamed s~ound them, transfigur- ing the aspect of every tree they pazsed, inscribing fantastic, gruesome symbols everywhere. of hypnosis, the source of the passive bravery of so many Orientals, of their gentle, obstinate resistance before which the Occidental has at times re- coiled. With distended pupils, with thought lulled to passivity, they walked like somnambulists, whereas with Mae- Csrthy, his will, nerves and reason were fighting a sharp battle. In spite of his keen realization of possibilities, his purpose never wavered. He be- | the clearness and precision of his sight; | and he felt all the electric elation of | the brave men face to face with danger, which permits of no regrets. While his mind vaguely dwelt on these things in the non-analytic man- ner of a man of action, he saw Djouna suddenly had stopped and turned ner- vously to him: ‘We are there—that clearing behind that block of stone.” They stopped. James took one of the rifles which he had allowed Bav- adjee to carry in order to assure supple- ness and steadiness to his arm at the supreme moment. Silently, with lightest steps, all three reached the stone and knelt behind it. A fine ground mist hovered before them and sufficed to render them invisible. But, in peering forward, every detail of the clearing could be seen, sparsely cov- ered with low plants, and lit up by a ray of moonlight. Cautiously Mac- Carthy raised himself above the aero- lite, and leaned over it. He was filled with unspeakable hor- Tor. Toward the middle of the space, ten yards away, at the mouth of a den, formed by superposed blocks of stone, he saw outlined the form of the regal beast ; there lay the colossal tigress. Between her huge paws was Chandran- ahonr, the laborer. He was not dead, Le did not seem to be wounded even— at any rate seriously. The keen sight of the Irishman could see his eyes open and shut at long intervals, and his breast palpitated with the rapidity of that of a bird caught in a snare. The tigress watched him in an indolent manner, like a cat with a mouse. And like the cat, now and again she let go her prey, she relapsed into a posture of negligence, of feigned inattention, of sommolent grace. The Irishman, with rifle ready, dared not fire. A revulsion of fury, of pity, | for a moment rendered his hand am- sure. Two awful minutes passed. Then slowly, slowly, Chandranahour moved. He stretched out his hands and raised himself on his elbows. The moonlight irradiated his face distorted by speech- less terror ; the contact with death had stiffened his mouth, and filled his widely distended pupils with stupor. He turned his head toward the tigress. She seemed to be looking vaguely else- where, sleepily indifferent to the pres- ence of her prey. Then Chandranahour began to draw himself along and suc- ceeded in gaining two yards of dis- tance. MacCarthy, seeing the livid face of the doomed man nearing him, took aim with his rifle. Unluckily a movement of Chandranahour rendered all inter- vention impossible at the moment; for his head came into the line of sight. “Curse it all!” murmured James. However, encouraged by the contin- ued indifference of the man-eater, the Hindu began to drag himself along more quickly. A desperate hope lit up his eyes, but only to die the next moment ; he heard the beast move. Suddenly she rose and made a bound. The man, as in a trance, let himself fall to the ground, between the great paws, face to face to the glistening teeth, the terrible eyes. “She is playing,” murmured Djouna, who had gone close to MacCarthy. 4Yes,” returned the other, ‘‘the ac- cursed brute is amusing herself!” His soul seemed plunged in darkness. He saw looming in a lugubrious apotheosis the beast who in our own era still dom- inates ancient India; who is not only the devourer of man, but who dares to amuse herself with him as though he were merely a feeble animal. In the intensity of the moment, he realized that by means of certain subtly displaced forces, by a little more ruse joined to the terrifying swiftness and the alert muscularity of tigers, by the merest power of association, the reign of the feline would have been possible. At that moment there rose in him a desperate thirst for ven- geance, overmastering a desire to con- quer the man-eater without killing her, to torment her and insult her, to make her feel the supremacy of the being that for six years she had made her prey. “Be calm!” He forced his heart to beat more normally, and anger no longer clouded his eyes. Meanwhile the tiger, with a purring sound, and with light, nimble movements, turned Chandranshour over on the ground and reveled in the joy of domination and of power, The poor man, huddled together, seemed like some poor infirm herbivore, thin, slight and defenseless against the queen of the jungle and the forest. She, blasee, 8 supple, ele- gant, awful symol of the struggle for existence, soon recommenced her ter- rible play, recoiled without haste, in a tremor of anticipation, her movements impelled by the contempt of the strong for the weak. When she was two yards distant she remained motionless, and her amber eyes closed slowly. She was the ex- pression of perfect certitude; she already tasted the charm of this living repast that she was resolved to make very soon as she crouched there, the sinister magnificence of triumphant muscle. The victim had not relin- quished all hope. The instinct to live beat invineibly in him, and dominated the conviction that all effort was futile. After a moment of uncertainty, he raised himself and recommenced his crawling flight exactly as he had done before, that effort of agony, lieved in the strength of his arm, in| Bavadjee and Djouna, at the inevit- terror and feeble energy. MecCarthy, able approach of danger, fell into asort | this time, was in full possession of all | his faculties. He allowed Chandrana- | hour's head to pass the line of vision, {and made his choice between the | prudence of firing straight to the heart | and his eager desire to punish the | brute. The report rang out. In the cloud of smoke James saw Chan- dranahour’s silhounet raise itself rapidly and the howling tigress with a crushed | pav lifted in a moment of surprised | stupor. | “Courage!” shouted the Irishman, as he leaped over the sheltering block. Chandrenahour threw himself forward ; the tigress made a short, rapid bound. She had not time to recommence. A second shot rendered another paw use less. Overcome, powerless, with re doubled howls and gleaming jaws she lay there a mere symbol of force. Chandranahour, sheltered behind his protector, had, in excess of joy, lost the use of his muscles. In a dazed condition he leaned against the stone supported by Djouna. McCarthy seized his second rifle from the hand of Bavadjee and took three steps to ward the tigress. She tried to raise herself, or at least to crawl toward the European; she stretched forward her monstrous head, her devouring jawsin which so much hu- man flesh had been macerated, so much existence annihilated. She fell back powerless, and James contemplated-hex with a cruel, revengeful satisfaction; it seemed to him that she now under stood the power ci man, that hence- forth she would no longer dare fear lessly to seize her prey in the village ; that at least she would kill hestily, ap- prehensively, as one kills a too dan- gerous enemy. «3ahib,” asked Bavadjee, ‘will yon not kill her?” «No; I want to make her a prisoner. Is Chandranshour hurt?” “No, Sahib, only a little weak.” The rescued man came and knelt be- fore the European and with humility kissed his hands, gratitude and un- speakable admiration shone in his great black eyes. “There, there,” said James gently. «Will you be afraid to remain alone with me while Bavadjee and Djouna go to fetch cords, canvas, a stretcher end bearers?” “Ah, Sahib! TI feelin greater safety near you than behind a triple wall of bronze.” “In that case, Bavadjee, you can go. Is your rifle in order. Good. Then 17? The night under the clear sky, grew cool. The firmament absorbed the heat; the plain was deadly cold. Bui in the forest there remained a gentle warmth, a dreamy atmosphere rendered heavy by the carbonic exhalation of the trees. The light fell like a snow of atoms. Pale stars floated in the depths of the zenith, on the imponderable lakes of the Milky Way. MecCarthy sat himself down against the root of a great tree and contemplated the wound: ed tigress. Moments of pity came tc him, gentle shivers suggested by the splendor of the night. But when he turned and saw Chandranshour, still exhausted with his terrible adventure, trembling at every growl of pain, his anger revived, and grew to a solemn hatred. Four hours later the creature was a captive. Her body was bound with in- terlacing cords. A network of bamboc formed a sort of low cage. The men of the village pressed round it. She still seemed formidable to them, with the grandeur of a subterranean deity, of a deity similar to the murderous forces, the sinister powers of sickness and death, of which Indie has made in- numerable gods. They encouraged one another; they were reassured by the presence of the Eurcpesn, and at the moment when the bearers stooped to raise their bur- den an old man approached. ‘There you lie, man-eater, reduced at last to impotence; there you lie, broken and captive! A man has van. quished you! You will now learn the supremacy of our race, you will howl behind the bars of a cage, and little children will mock at your fury. You will go from village to village, from the top of a wagon you will pass the jungle and the forest, whose delights you will never more taste! Your life shall be a profound humiliation because you have profaned the nobility of our brothers, and because you have played with their glories!” The creature cowered, weakened by suffering, and the Hindus thought that, in her ob- secure substance, in her narrow, fero- cious brain, she recognized the supremacy of Man.—From the French. in Independent. er eee A Story of Admiral Gherardi. In the navy sailors are often in the same ship for three or four or even more years. During this time their craft is their home, and they speak of it as such, and with an affection as if it were a living thing. By means of the ship the men may be wonderfully in- fluenced. Rear-Admiral Gherardi (then a captain) was in command of a remark- ably fine frigate on the South American station, of which he and his crew were justly proud. The handscme bust on her beautiful figurehead was brightly gilt, and great care was taken of it. The harmony which had generally pre- vailed on board was somehow disturbed. But instead of resorting to corporeal punishment, the captain summoned the men aft, and in a simple, manly speech pointed out the impropriety of their conduct, and concluded thus: ‘“So now, my lads, if this be not put an end to, and hearty goodwill restored, I'L blacken your figure head and put the ship in mourning.” Had a bombshell fallen at their feet the. men could not have been more astonished.. To have their figurehead blackened? No, any- thing rather than that, and in this way order and harmony were restored. New York Press. THE SYMPATHY OF THE SAVIOR ————eee REV.DR. TALMAGE TELLS OF THE —eee g Woman Who Was Healed By the Touch of His Garment. Jesus Is Sensitive to the Faintest Appeal. _— TexT : “ Who touched Me?’—Mark v., 31. A great crowd of excited pecple elbowing each other this way and thai and Christ in the midst of the commotion. They were on the way to see Himrestore to complete health a dying person. Some thought He could effect the cure ; others that He could not. At any rate, it would be an interesting experi- ment. A very sick woman of twelve years’ invalidism is in the crowd. Some say her name was Martha ;others say it was Veronica. I do not know what her name was, but this is certain, she had tried all styles of cure. Every shelf of her humble home had medicines on it. She had employed many of the doctors of that * time, when medical science was more rude and rough and igno- rant than we can imagine in this time when the word physician or surgeon stands for otent and educated skill. Professor Light- oot gives a list of what he supposes may have been the remedies she has applied. I suppose she had been blistered from head to foot and had tried the compress and had used all styles ot astringent herbs, and she had been mauled and hacked and cut and lacerated until life to her was a plague. Be- side that the Bible indicates her doctor’s bills had run up frightfully, and she had paid money for medicines and for surgical attend- ance and for hygienic apparatus until her purse was as exhausted as her body. What, poor woman, are you doing in that jostling crowd? Better go homeand to bed and purse your disorders. No! Wan and wasted and faint, she standsthere, her face distorted with suffering, and ever and anon biting her lip with some acute pain and sobbing until her tears fell from the hoilow eye upon the faded dress, only able to stand because the crowd is so close to her, pushing her this way and that. Stand back! Why do you crowd that poor body? Have you no consid- eration for a dying woman? But just at that time the crowd parts, and this invalid comes almost up to Christ. But she is behind Him, and His human eye does not take her in. She has hegrd so much about His kindness to the sick, and she does feel so wretched ; she ¢hinks if she can only just touch Him once it will do her good. She will not touch Him on thesacred head, for that might be ir- roverent. She will not touch Him on the hand, for that might seem too familiar. She says: “I will, I think, touch Him on His coat, not on the top of it, or on the bot- tom of the main fabric, but on the border, the blue border, the long threads of the fringe of that blue border ; there can be- no harm in that. I don’t think He will hurt me, I have heard so much about Him. Besides that, I can stand this no longer. Twelve years of suffering have worn me out. This is my last hope.” . And she presses through the crowd still farther and reaches for Christ, but can- not quite touch Him. She pushesstill farther through the crowd and kneels and puts her finger to the edge of the blue fringe of the border. She just touches it. Quick as an electric flash there thrilled back into her shattered nerves, and shrunken veins, and exhausted arteries, and panting lungs, and withered muscles, health, beautiful health, rubicund health, God given and complete health. The 12 years’ march of pain and pang and suffering over suspension bridge of nerve and through tunnel of bone instantly halted. Christ recognizes somehow that magnetic and healthful influence through the medium of the blue fringe of His garment had shot out. He turns and looks upon that excited crowd and startles them with the interroga- tory of my text. ‘Who touched Me?” The insolent crowd in substance replied: ‘How do we know? You get in a crowd like this and you must expect to be jostled. You ask us a question you know we cannot answer.” But the roseate and rejuvenated woman came up, and knelt in front of Christ, and told of the touch. and told of the restoration, and Jesus said: “Daughter, thy faith had made thee whole. Go in peace.” So Mark gives us a dramatization of the gospel. Oh, what a doctor Christ is! In every one of our house- holds may He be the family physician. Notice that there is no addition of help to others without subtraction of power from ourselves. The context says that as soon as this woman was healed Jesus felt that virtue or strength had gone out of Him. No ad- dition of help to others without subtraction of strength from ourselves. Did you never get tired for others? Have you never risked your health for others? Have you never reached a sermon, or delivered an ex- ortation, or offered a burning prayer, and “then felt afterward that strength had gone out of you? Then you have never imitated Christ? Are you curious to know how that garment of Christ would have wrought such a cure for this suppliant invalid? I suppose that Christ was surcharged with vitality. You know that diseases may be conveyed from city to city by garments as in case of epi- demic, and so I suppose that garments may be surcharged with health. I suppose that Christ had such physical magnetism that it permeated all His robe down to the last thread on the border of the blue fringe. But in addition to that there was a divine thrill, there was a miraculous potency, there was an omnipotent therapeutics, without which this 12 years’ invalid would not have been in- stantly restored. Now, if omnipotence cannot help others without depletion, how can we ever expect to bless the world without self sacrifice. A man who gives to some Christian object until he feels it, a man who in his occupation or rofession overworks that he may educate bis children, a man who on Sunday night goes home, all his nervous energy wrung out by active service in church, or Sabbath- school, or city evangelization, has imitated Christ, and the strength has gone out of him. A mother who robs herself of sleep in behalf of a sick cradle, a wife who bears up cheer- fully under domestic misfortune that she may encourage her husband in the combat against disaster, a woman who by hard saving and earnest prayer and good counsel wisely given and many years devoted to rearing her family for God and usefulness and heaven, and has nothing to show for it but premature gray hairs and a profusion of deep wrinkles, is like Christ, and strength has gone out of her. That strength or virtue may have gone out through a garment she has made for the home, that strength may have gone out through the sock you knit for the barsfoot destitute, that strength may go out threugh the mantle hung up in some closet after you are dead. So a crippled child sat every morning on her father’s front step so that when the kind Christian teacher passed byto school she might take hold of her dress and let the dress slide through her pale fingers. She said it helped her pain so much and made her so happy all the day. Aye, have we not in all our dwellings garments of the departed, a touch of which thrills us through and through, the life of those who are gone thrilling through the life of those who stay? But mark you, the principle I evolve from this subject. Noadditionof healteh to others unless there be a subtraction of strength from ourselves. He felt that strength had gone out of Him. Nectice also in thi subject a Christs sensi- tive to human touch. We talk about God on a vast scale so much we hardly appreciate His accessibility—God in magnitude rather than God in minutiee, God in the infinite rather than God in the infinitesimal—but here in my text we have a God arrested by a suffering touch. When in the sham trial of Christ they struck Him on the cheek we can realize how that cheek tingled with pain. When under the scourging the rod struck the shoulders and back of Christ, we can re- alize how He must have writhed under the lacerations. But here therc is a sick and perveless finger that just touches the long threads of the blue fringe of His coat, and He looks around and says, ‘Who touched Me?” We talk about sensitive people, but Christ was the impersonation of all Soni iven The slightest st=ale of the smallest flnge=%s human disability makes all the nerves of His head and heart and hand and feet vibrate. It is not a stolid Christ, not a phlegmatic Christ, not a preoceuppied Christ, not a hard Christ, not an iron cased Christ, but an exquisitely sensitive Christ that my text unveils. All the things that touch us touch Him, if by the hand of prayer we make the connecting line between Him and ourselves complete. Mark you, this invalid of the text might have walked through that crowd all day and cried about her suffering, and no relief would have come if she had not touched Him. When in your prayer you lay your hand on Christ you touch all the sympathies of an ardent and glowing and responsive nature. You know that in telegraphy there are two currents of electricity. So when you put out - your hand of prayer to Christ there are two currents—a current of sorrow rolling up from your heart to Christ and a current of com- miseration rolling from the heart of Christ to you. Two currents. Oh, way do you go un- helped? Why do you go wondering about this and wondering about that? Why do you not touch Him? Are you sick? I do not think you are any worse off than this invalid of the text. "Have you had a long struggle? 1 do not think it has been more than 12 years. Is your case hopeless? So was this of which my text is the diagnosis and prognosis. ‘‘Oh,” you say, ‘there are so many things between me and God.” There was a whole mob between this invalid and Christ. She pressed through, and I guess you can press through. Is your trouble a home trouble? Christ shows Himself especially sympathetic with questions of domesticity, as when at the wed- ding in Cana He alleviated a housekeeper’s predicament, as when tears rushed forth at the broken dome of Mary and Martha and Lazarus. Men are sometimes ashamed to weep. There are men who if the tears start will ecnceal them. They think jt is unmanly to ery. They do not seem to understand it is manliness and evidence of a great heart. I am afraid of a man who does not know how to cry. The Christ of the text was not ashamed to cry over human misfortune. Look at that deep lake of tears opened by the two words of the evangelist : ‘‘Jesus ‘wept!’ Be- hold Christ on the only day of His early triumph marching on Jerusalem, the glitter- ing domes obliterated by the blinding rain of tears in His eyes and on His cheeks, for when He beheld the city He wept over it. O man of the many trials, O woman of the Leart- break, why do you not touch Him? ¢Q0h,” says some one, ‘Christ doesn’t care for me. Christ is looking the other way. Christ has the vast affairs of His kingdom to look after. He has the armies of sin to over- throw, and there are so many worse cases of trouble than mine He doesn’t care about me, and His face is turned the other way.” So His back was turned to this invalid of the text. He was on His way to effect a cure which was famous and popular and widere- sounding. But the context says, ‘He turned Him about.” If He was facing to the north, He turned to the south ; if He was facing to the east, He turned to the west. What turned Him about? The Bible says Hs has no shadow of turning ; He rides on His chariot through the eternities. He marches on, crushing scepters as though they were the crackling alders on a brook’s bank, and toss- ing thrones on either side of Him without looking which way the fail. From everlast- ing to everlasting. ‘He turned Him about.” He, whom all the allied armies of hell can- not stop a minute or divert an inch, by the wan, sick, nerveless finger of human suffer- ing turned clear about. Oh, what comfort there is in this subject for people who are called nervous ! Of course it is a misapplied word inthat case, but I use it in the ordinary parlance. After 12 years of suffering, oh, what nervous depression she must have had! You all know that a good deal of medicine taken if it does not cure leaves the system exhausted, and in the Bible in so many words she ‘had suffered many things of many physicians and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse.” She was as nervous as nervous could be. She knew all about insomnia, and about the awful ap- prehension of something going to happen, and irritability about little things that in health would not have perturbed her. I war- rant you it was not a straight stroke she gave to the garment .of Christ, but a trembling fore-arm, and an uncertain motion of the hand, and a quivering finger with which she missed the mark toward which she aimed. She did not touch the garment just where she expected to touch it. ‘When I see this nervous woman coming to the Lord Jesus Christ, I say she is making the way for all nervous people. Nervous people do not get much sympathy. If a man breaks his axm, everybody is sorry, and they talk about it all up and down the street. If a woman has an eys put out by accident, they say : “That's a dreadful thing.” Everybody is asking about her convalescence. But when a person is suffering under the ailment of which I am now speaking they say: ‘Oh, that’s nothing. She's a little nervous, that’s all,” putting a slight upon the most agoniz- ing of suffering. Now, I have a new prescription to give you. T do not ask you to discard human medica- ment. I believe in it. When the slightest thing occurs in the way of sickness in my housshold, we always run for the doctor. I do not want to despise medicine. If you can- not sleep nights, do not despise bromide of potassium. If you have neryous paroxysm, do not despise morphine. If you wants to strengthen up your system, do not despise quinine as a tonic. Use all right and proper medicines. But I want you to bring your insomnia, and bring your irritability, and bring all your weaknesses, and with them touch Christ. Touch Him not only on the hem of His garments, but touch Him on the shoulder, where He carries our burden, touch Him on the head where He remembers all our sorrows, touch Him eon the heart, the center of all His sympathies. Oh, yes, Paul was right when he said, ‘We have not a high priest who cannot be touched.” The fact is Christ Himself is nervous. All those nights out of doors in malarial districts, where an Englishman or an American dies if he goes at certain seasons. Slee ing out of doors so many nights, as Christ did, and so hungry, and His feet wet with the wash of the sea, and the wilderness tramp, and the persecution, and the outrage must have broken His nervous system ; a fact proved by the statement that He lived so short a time on the cross. That is a lingering death or- dinarily, and many a sufferer on the cross has writhed in pain 24 hours, 48hours. Christ lived only six. Why? He was exhausted be- fore He mounted the blocdy tree. Oh, it is a, wornout Christ, sympathetic with all peo- ple worn out. A Christian woman went to the Tract House in New York and asked for tracts for distribution. The firs: day she was out on her Christian errand she saw a policeman taking an intoxicated woman to the station house. After the woman was discharged from custody, this Christian tract distributer saw her coming away all unkempt and un- lovely. The tract distributer went up, threw her arms around her neck and kissed her. The woman sald, “Oh, my God, why do you kiss me?” ‘“Well,” replied the other, “I think Jesus Christ told me to.” ‘Oh, no,” the woman said, “don’t you kiss me. It breaks my heart. Nobody has kissed me since my mother died.” But that sisterly kiss brought her to Christ, started her on the road to heaven. The world wants sympathy. It is dying for sympathy, large-hearted Christian sympathy. There is omnipotence in the touch. Oh, Iam so glad that when wetouch Christ Christ touches us! The knuckles, and the limbs, and the joints, all faliing apart with that living death called the leprosy, a man is brought to Christ. A hundred doctors could not care him. The wisest surgery would stand appalled before that loathsome pa- tient. What did Christ do? He did not am- putate ; He did not poultice ; He did not scar- ify. He touched him, and he was well. The mother-in-law of the Apostle Peter was in a raging fever—brain fever, typhoid fever, or what, I do not know. Christ was the physi- cian. He offered no febrifuge ; He prescribed no drops ; He did not put her on plain diet. He touched her, and she was perfectly well. Two blind men come stumbling-into a room where Christ is. They are entirely sightless. Christ did not lift the eyelid to see whether it j ons cataract or ophthalmia. He did not put 7 sae men into a dark room for three or four weeks. Aetouched them, and they saw every=- thing. A map came to Christ. Thedrum of his ear had ceased to vibrate, and he had a stuttering tongue. Christ touched the ear, and he heard : touched his tongue, and he articulated. There is a funeral coming out of that gate—a widow following her only boy to the grave. Christ cannot stand it, and He puts His hand on the hearse, and the obse- quies turn into a resurrection day. O my brother, I am so glad when we touch Christ with our sorrows He touches us. When out of your grief and vexation you put your hand on Christ, it awakens all human remi- niscence. Are we tempted? He wastempted. Are we sick? He was sick. Are we perse- cuted? He was persecuted. Are we bereft? He was bereft. St. Yoo of Kermartin one morning went out and saw a beggar asleep on his doorstep. The beggar had been all night in the cold. The next night St. Yoo compelled this beggar to come up in the house and sleep in the saint's bed, while St. Yoo passed the night on the doorstep in the cold. Somebody asked him why that eccentricity. He replied: “It isn’t an eccentricity. I want to know how the poor suffer. I want to know their agonies that I may sympathize with them, and there- fore I slept on this cold step last night.” This is the way Christ knows so much about our sorrows. He slept on the cold doorstep of an! inhospitable world that would not let Him in. He is sympathetic now with all the suffering and all the tired and all the perplexed. Ob, why do you not go and touch Him? You utter your voice in a mountain pass, and there come back 10 echoes, 20 echoes, 30 echoes perhaps—weird echoes. Every voice of prayer, every ascription of praise, every groan of distress has divine response and celestial reverberation, and all the galleries of heaven are fllled with sympathetic echoes and throngs of ministering angels echo, and the temples of the redeemed echo, and the hearts of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost echo and re-echo. I preach a Christ so near you can touch Him—touch Him with your guilt and get pardon—touch Him with your troubls and get comfort—touch Him with your bondage and get manumission. You have seen a man take hold of an electric chain. A man can with one hand take one end of the chain, and with the other hand he may take hold of the other end of the chain. Then 100 persons taking hold of that chain will altogether feel the electric power. You have seen that ex- eriment. Well, Christ with one wounded hand takes hold of one end of the electric chain of love, and with the other wounded hand takes hold of the other end of the electric chain of love, and all earthly and angelic beings may lay hold of that chain, and around and around in sublime and everlast- ing circuit runs the thrill of terrestrial and celestial and brotherly and saintly and cherubic and seraphic and archangelic and divine sympathy. So that if this morning Christ should sweep His hand over this audience and say, “Who touched Me?” there would be hundreds and thousands of voices responding: “I! I! I™ eee eet ER ere eet The Magnetic Water of Pueblo. A feature of remarkable interest at Pueblo, Colorado, is that of the peculiar magnetic mineral water found there. This has coverted the whole town to a belief in its wonderful efficacy and attracted a great deal of interest throughout the State. Every body seems to be drinking it, and bathing in it for a week or two with the water at a temperature of about 105 degrees Fahrenheit is considered a panacea for the most obstinate cases of inflammatory rheumatism and derange- ment of the kidneys and liver, also dyspepsia and various other troubles, including nervous complaints. This water seems to be generally distributed beneath the city of Puebloat a depth of from 1200 to 1700 feet, and has been reached by seven or eight wells seat- tered over an area of several miles, which were all sunk in search for petroleum and coal, and in no case has a well which has been sunk to a proper depth failed to reach the water, which is found in a lumination of white sand- stone. So strong is the force upon the water below that it equals a pressure at the surface of the wells equal to that of from fifty to sixty pounds to the inch, and rises when confined by an upright pipe to a height of 120 feet, and the flow from ome of the wells, which is four or five inches in diameter, and which is the only one which has been properly cased, is esti- mated at 3000 barrels per diem. The water is considered most agree- able for drinking, and contains an ap- preciable proportion of irom, lithia and sodas. The particular feature, however, is its strong magnetic char- acter, as it impregnates knife-blades and steel substances held beneath its flow for a few rainutes so strongly that they become magnets by which tacks, needles and other small iron and steel objects are readily lifted. This im- perting of magnetism by water is, I believe, disputed and scouted by scientists whose theories are quite clear, but the fact nevertheless exists, and incontestably, that the water does, with celerity, highly magnetize steel substances held beneath its flow. It may not perhaps do this by the ac- cepted axiums of science, but that it has a way of doing it. is highly satis- factory to the boys as well as the adults of Pueblo. This magnetic quality is accounted the prime factor in rheu- matic cases, and it would be difficult to find in the whole of Pueblo any one who knows anything about the water who is not a convert to its supposed almost miraculous qualities. In fact a continuous pilgrimage from the minesand different parts of the State to the water for drinking and bathing is going on, and it is generally be- lieved that no case exists so obstinate that it will not be relieved by bathing and drinking freely of the water,.— Boston Transcript. eee Ba eee The Best Dishes for Dyspeptics. Violent cases of dyspepsia are offen cured by refraining from liquids en- tirely. Never drink at meals, and if thirsty between times sip a little hot water slowly. Little by little, as the person grows better, he or she can take coffee, even tea, at their meals. Where chronic dyspepsia exists, gen- erally the person must be guided by what is found by experience to agree. Simplicity in cooking and a plain diet is necessary. Pastry, fried articles, meats cooked a second time, and nearly all sweets are to be avoided. The following are some of the foods easy of digestion. Mutton, sweetbreads, chicken, partridges, beef tea, mutton broth, milk, fish, oysters, stale bread, rice, | tapioca, asparagus, French beans, | baked apples, oranges, strawberries | and peaches.—=z. Mouis Star-Sayingse' Eflectnall or when t manently en the kic without i; pel heads Figs. There ¢ bonece flv “Tam cal virtt threat able eruj The canc dentially parilia, a symuvtom used fou Saved Iam now like a Sarsapar and strer over Stre ( Hood's sist digest Dr. | Ac Sufferel LIF Mr. Mq zen of V around. “For y ney and tratior was all physic found Swamp- and to-( a man greate doubt 0 SY Ro Woes KIDNEY L br. Ki ARE
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers