ghtttsmoulh Journal.
C. IV. SIIKU.tlAN, Publisher.
rLATTSMOUTH. i i KEBHASKA.
MY CHILDHOOD'S SUNDAY.
3fy great-great-great-great-grandfather.
Whose heart through mine Is beating,
"Believed good Puritan! 'twas sin
Of ains to stay from meeting.
On each Lord's day they gathered twice,
A patient congregation,
And heard two long discourses through
As food for meditation.
Hut oh. what rest from Saturday,
How brisk a start for Monday
Those grave old Pilgrim fathers had.
"With their old-fashioned Sunday:
"A vanished day." you say: and yet
Fond memory's tears bedew It,
Tor in my old Xew England home,
A child, how well I knew It:
It colored all my early thoughts.
My life was built upon it:
X always said '-my Sunday gown,"
My go-to-meeting bonnet."
Here common, bustling workaday
Were Saturday and Monday;
JJut oh. my very best belonged
To that old-fashioned Sunday.
Once more the great green box-like pew.
Its hlh wall 'round me closes:
1 sit. a nosegay on my breast '
How sweet the damask roses:
I sofiiy wave my painted fan.
And. by my Bide, my mother
Sleets mine with look, half smile, half prayer.
More sweet than any other.
X loved the strolls of Saturday.
The merry romps of Monday;
But oh. I felt the holy charm
Of that old-fashioned Sunday.
They haunt me still, the many Texts
And hymns I then committed.
And never knew in learning them
That I was to be pitied.
Time changes all: yet we would trust
Though change the world grows better;
But oh. to the remembered pajt
How much I feel a debtor:
And oh. how hopeless Saturday.
And wearisome were Monday.
"Without the quiet rest between
Of my old-tushioned Sunday!
Marian Douglas, in N. Y. Independent.
wdOp
EVERAL Mex
icans, in holi
day attire,
were walking'
their horses
throtiph a
great grove of
live-oaks in the San Gabriel valley,
California. They came from a large
ranch down the country, and were go
ing to Los Angeles for the annual
fiesta. Their saddles were of leather,
richly chased, after the Spanish fash
ion. The pommel of one was of silver,
the rim of the saddle oi the same, and
even the bridle was of silver, the bit
"being handsomely inlaid.
The riders wore big. broad-brimmed
Iiats. or sombreros, with silver bands,
richly colored trousers and botas
while each carried a pay blanket, or
serape. which had a hole for the neck,
to be used if occasion required. This,
with a long horsehair reata, or lariat,
tied near the pommel, made up as
picturesque a costume as one could
imagine.
The country was a succession of
parks, with clumps of fine old oaks,
whose long branches and limbs offered
Crateful shade. Occasionally there
were patches of bush and chaparral.
fiving way azain to the open spots
where the yellow fox-tail grass
gleamed like gold, or the wild oat
Tippled in the summer sun. Through
such scenes of pastoral beauty the
light-hearted horsemen were riding,
passing the time with jokes and ban
ter, when suddenly Jose Salvadea,
who was ahead, stopped so abruptly
that his horse fell Lack on his
haunches, and motioned to the others
for quiet- All drew rein, and. follow
ing the direction of his pointed finger,
saw a singular sight.
In a little clearing, where the alfi
laria had been green and rank in win
ter, but was now a chocolate-colored
mass upon the ground, ender four or
five large trets, were fwo gigantic
birds, so tall, so black and ugly with
al, that they might have been carica
tures of birds. One was tearing at a
sheep, while the other, evidently hav
ing dined to its content, stood by, its
enormous wings extended, showing a
spread of nine or ten feet. It was one
of the rarest birds of America the
great California condor caught in the
very act of filohing from the owners of
the soil a bird that has the reputa
tion of devouring a sheep a day when
opportunity offered.
The loss of a sheep, or a dozen,
amounted to little, but it was the sport
of taking the great bird that attracted
the horsemen, and as quietly as possi
ble they untied their reatas, released
and enlarged the coil, and waited for
the word.
They held the rope in the right hand,
o that the noose, about four feet in
length, hung free, and at the word,
given by Juan, they put spurs to their
horses and dashed at the birds.
The latter were taken completely by
surprise. One clumsily attempted
flight and rose a few feet from the
ground, when a rata went whirling'
through the air, dropping over its
neck, a pull bringing it to earth. The
other bird, 6topetied by its stolen
feast, fell an easy victim, two reatas
falling 2r it, one dropping over its
head, th other securing- its wing. As
the ropes fell the men raised a shout.
The horsas, trained in their runs after
stock, braced back, expecting the
hard pnll whiA a bullock gives when
lassoed; but instead came a remark
able scries of struggles. The condor
caught by the head ran a short dis
tance with a curious, hopping motion,
then with a violent effort beat the
ground and ihe air with its powerful
wings, raising itself several feet into
'the air Ta sight of the enormous
2 Wj
bird. Its waving wing's, its uncanny
appearance, so demoralized the horses
that they snorted, bucked and en
deavored to run away. But they
were quickly subdued and the flying
condor was brought down with a jerk
and the two birds were surrounded by
the excited riders.
Then followed a curious exhibition.
The two birds began an extemporized
dance around the circle, nopping like
eagles, first on one foot, then on the
other, uttering a low and vicious hiss.
Around they went, pecking at the
ropes, thrusting forward their bare
and ugly heads, and apparently sub
dued. But it was only for a moment. As
if by concerted plan they hurled them
selves at the horses, one on one side
and one on the other, coming up
against the animals with great force,
striking them with their ponderous
wings and pecking at them with their
powerful bills.
This onslaught again demoralized
one of the horses, so that, rearing to
escape the charge, he fell backward.
Ilis rider slipped off in time, while the
broncho roiled over and over, en
tangled in the reata. The bird, prob
ably equally frightened, sprang over
his body, and. between a fusillade of
kicks from the struggling animal, en
deavored again to lly. But the rope
held it securely, and even a California
condor, with a spread of ten feet of
wing, could not carry off a horse; so
it was forced to come clumsily to the
gro-jnd.
The riders, now recovered from their
confusion, amid much laughter as
this was a rare but famous sport
among native Californians began to
take in their reatas, and soon had the
great birds so that they were entirely
submissive: and as they were unin
jured, it was decided to carry them to
Los Angeles. This was accomplished
by carrying a bird between two horses,
the wings spread apart to their full
extent, and the tips of the pinions tied
to the saddles; while beneath the
birds, to support them so that they
would not suffer, were placed doubled
reatas.
At first the horses seriously objected
to this arrangement, but finally sub
mitted, and the cavalcade took up its
mareti, entering Los Angeles, which
was then an adobe town, and
depositing the condors at the plaza
amid much excitement, the birds be
coming one of the chief attractions of
the fiesta.
The California condor was formerly
quite common, and was regarded as an
enemy to the herder, its great size and
voracious appetite making it a menace
to sheep. Actual experiment showed
that one of these birds would devour a
sheep a day; and to illustrate their
strength, four have been seen drag
ging a young bear, which weighed
over one hundred pounds, for a dis
tance of six hundred feet. When
gorged with food, the birds found it
difficult to fly, and were thus, when
surprised, often taken with the reata-
The California condor is very like its
South American ally in general ap
pearance, not having the peculiar
white collar. It is far from being
ferocious, and is easily tamed or do
mesticated. It presents an appearance
of remarkable strength, and its pow
ers of flight are such that it could
easily carry away a child or a light
animal. Such habits are often laid at
its door, but are not founded on fact,
the bird rarely, if ever, attacking hu
man beings, and being totally unable
THE KOFE3 FELL.
from the nature of its claws to carry
its prey away.
In the air the condor presents a
beautiful appearance, with its enor
mous spread of wing, its perfect
grace and ease of motion. Its pow
er of soaring is one of the most re
markable phenomena in bird-life. 1
appears to move about at will, rarely
using its wings except to recover it
self, and can pass over great distances
in this way. The writer has seen the
condor in the Sierra Madre region of
southern California, where they oc
casionally come down and alight in
the big live oaks of the valley, aud has
observed them so far above these
mountains that they were but specks
of black against the blue sky, and
must have been nearly two miles above
the sea. Even at this extraordinary
heifrht it is said that they can distin
guish their prey. So nnerring is their
vision that it has been supposed that
the bird sought its food by the sense of
smell; but 6ight is in all probability
the secret.
The great bird is yearly becoming
rarer. It is shot whenever seen, be
ing valued at from fifteen to twenty
five dollars for its skin. The herders
have a wholesome fear of it- So now
it is restricted to the high mountains,
and will soon be a story of the past
N. Y. Ledger.
Not That Kind.
"So your husband is sick?" said the
sympathetic grocer to a regular cus
tomer. "Yes, poor man." answered the wife;
"he's pretty badly off."
"What's the matter with him, hey?
Fever?"
"No, it ain't hay fever or grass fever;
it's regular old fever'n ague," snapped
the woman, and the sympathetic grocer
held his peace. Detroit Free Press.
The name of Prairie du Chien,
is French, meaning dog prairie, from
the abundance of prairie do?.
FLOUR AND BREAD.
A Statement Throwing Light on the Cos
of a L-oaf.
A statement made by one who has
served manv years in the army as a
commissary sergeant furnishes some
interesting facts pertinent to the bread
question.
"During my term of service In the
army I have been from Pembina to the
gulf, and wherever I have been I have
found bakers glad to take a barrel of
flour from us and furnish bread as an
equivalent, pound for pound, we re
ceiving 190 pounds of bread for a bar
rel of flour. The increase with water,
yeast and potatoes (and good f.
needs nothing else to make good bread)
is computed at 33 per cent. The
Washington bakers deeline to use po
tatoes, as a rule, as it makes too
much work; but it improves the bread
and keeps it moist. In the army
the company to which I lelouged was
stationed for about a year atLibby
prison, Richmond. Va., and during that
entire period Mr. John Bagnall. a well
known baker of that city, furnished
bread for the company, receiving no
other compensation than the ;Bls per
cent, mentioned; and it is from that
source and on that computation that
the various forts and garrisons of the
United States are enabled to keep up a
post fund with which to meet con
tingencies for which congress makes
no appropriation.
"So far as my experience has gone
and I have had a large one there is
not a city of the size of Washington in
the United States furnished with poor
er bread. Less than five
bushels of wheat will make a barrel of
clear flour, and pay for the milling.
But bakers do not tise oiear flour; they
use what is left of the wheat after the
patent process (starch) lias been ex
tracted from it, because, having more
gluten in it, it absorbs more water, and
gives a larger percentage of bread to
a barrel of flour. Wheat was selling
at Baltimore the other day at MB4
?'.-nts and "4T cents. These figures will
how that flour such as bakers use can
le made, barreled- and laid down
in Washington at S2.73 per barrel, and
which the Washington bakers sell in
the shape -of break for over SI". You
will clearly see the rapacity of these
men, when, as I have shown, other
bakers all over the couutrv have been
j not only willing, but anxious, to fur
j nish bread for the profit of S3.li er
i cent, on the barrel of flour. I forgot
I to mention, too, that in purchasing a
barrel of flour the purchaser has a
barrel worth 25 cents, which brings the
price of bakers flour down to S-."0.
which. I do not doubt, is exactly what
they pay for it. You may also have
observed that the Bakers association
purchases flour for all of the associa
tion, and that it is furnished accord
ing to the needs of the members. By
this means all are forced to use the
same quality of flour, let it be good or
bad. and the next time j'ou get
poor bread, examine some other
baker's product, and the chances are
that the quality will be the same. This
will indicate that the flour is bad."
Washington Star.
ELDERLY WOMEN.
Old Ace, After All. May lie Only a Matter
of Imagination.
An Englishman said, the other day.
that in America the elderly women has
disappeared, and this superficial ob
server ascribed her elimination to the
fashions. Not only, he declared, does
the mother dress like the daughter,
but the grandmother is gowned like
the mother. There is no doubt that the
distinctions which used to exist be
tween the dress of the mother of thirty
and the woman of sixty or more have
largely been abolished. But this is a
result, and not a cause. The fact is
that at no age are American women
any longer set aside ns having out
grown the period of usefulness.
Women of all sorts nowadays have
wider interests than had their grand
mothers or even their mothers. Also,
they understand tiie laws of health, of
hygiene and of rational dressing much
i better. Thus the mind preserved and
constantly reanimated. One is eon
I stantly reawakened, while the body is
j of the potent factors in the disanpear
I ance of the elderly woman has leen
the woman's club. Here she finds her
self in touch "vith the vital interest.-, of
the day and supplements her early
knowledge with the latest current in
formation. Through it she has become
a notable influence in politics, and by
means of it organizes her activities into
various useful and diverting channels.
What vionder, then, that she continues
I to be bright, cheery and omnipresent?
! In social gatherings and festivities
women of all ages congenially mingle.
, The up-to-date girl is invited out to
dinner with her elders by many years.
Each appeals to the opposite sex with
a charm of her own. and general socie
ty is greatly the cainer. The placid
old lady by the fireside, in snowy cap
and sober garb, is not to be forgotten:
but who shall say that the cultivated
: and wide-awake woman who has so
largely taken her place is not equally
well suited to the times we live in?
X. Y. Press
Sweetening In Ul Toil.
As her eyes rested upon the patient
figure of her husband her heart smote
her.
"Dearest."
He started timidly, seemingly discon
certed by her unwonted manner.
"Dearest," she repeated, tenderly,
"those biscuits were better than mother
used to make."
He was silent, but. as he finished
washing the dishes and proceeded to
sew a button on her bloomers, a glad
smile irradiated his countenance.
A kirtdly word had lifted his burden.
Detr, t Tribune.
The duke of Orleans intimates that
he will hustle for the crown of France.
The duke is quite a hustler. It will be
remembered that he hustled into
France, and then the French govern
mi nt did some hustling on its own ac
count. He was hustled into Jail, and
then, xfter he had cooled down lie wus
hnstled ont a' franco. The duke knows
--M alxm' hustltng.
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
Justice J. M. Harlan, who is "men
tioned"' for the republican presidential
nomination in 1800, is a physical giant,
being the largest, and, next to Gray,
the tallest man on the supreme bench,
lie is sixty-one years old. bald and in
fine health. He is bluff, hearty, very
popular, and greatly in demand at din
ner parties.
Miss Bacon, a young Englishwom
an, enjoyed a most fascinating and ex
hilarating outing last summer. She
cycled from London to Scotland, re
turning through Wales and the lake
district, a distance, in all, of twelve
nundred miles, alone; was gone two
days less than a month, and the total
cost of her holiday was fifty dollars.
When the timid colonial clergy
men were, afraid to criticise Aaron
Burr's treason, they asked Lorenzo
Dow what he thought of Burr's mean
ness. He raised loth hands like a
great V. and shouted: "Aaron Burr,
mean! Why, I could take the little end
of nothing whittled down to a point,
punch out the pith of a hair, and put
in forty thousand such traitor souls as
Ins, shake "era up, and they'd rattle.
Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont has
been elected president of a new chap
ter of the Daughters of the American
Revolution which has been formed in
Los Angeles, Cal. The fourteen char
ter memliers of the chapter represent
many famous colonial patriots. At the
opening session, tea was brewed in
camp-kettles that are heirlooms in the
Darsey family, and were used by Wash
ington and Lafayette in the revolu
tionary war.
The personal appearance of Jean
Kiehepin. who is descrild as the most
versatile genius in all France since the
death of Victor Hugo, must impress the
stranger" who meets him for the first
time. He is pictured as a tall, burly
man, handsome in a brutal style, with
u low brow, a thick neck, dilated nos
trils and a general air of athletic calm
and intellectual vacuity. A personali
ty of the John L. Sullivan kind such an
this is unusual in a famous author.
Philadelphia Press.
The late F. W. Bird, the distin
guished paper manufacturer of Wal
nole. was a believer in a somewhat un-
! usual cure for sickness of all sorts.
i For nearly forty years it was his prac
tice to remain in bed all one day every
week. He would read and sleep, and
when it was absolutely necessary for
any caller to see him, he had to see him
in led. and only a few were permitted
to do this. When Mr. Bird was forty
years old he was an invalid, yet his
practice kept him alive nearly fifty
years longer.
Shelley's monument at Viareggio
has at last leen unveiled. The Italians
were the principal contributors to the
work, but besides the names of De
Amicis, Bonghi. Cavalotti and Menotti
Garibaldi as constituting the commit
tee in charge, were those of Mr. Glad
stone and Mr. Swinburne. The follow
ing inscription is on the monument:
"To Percy Bysshe Shelley. Heart of
Hearts. Drowned in the sea; cremated
on this spot, where he composed
"Crometheus Unbound.' A posthumous
page wherein every generation will
have a token of its struggles, its tears
nnd its redemption."
HUMOROUS.
The hardest work any man can
undertake, is to try to manage him
self. Ham's Horn.
"The men will find a woman's
pocket if she gets to running for of
fice," says the Frankford sage. Phila
delphia Record.
There is a difference in the way
A modern maiden's heart will soften:
To this young man '-come off" she'll say;
While to that one it is -come often."
Buffalo Courier.
"What do you understand by the
term 'platonic afFection'?" "It usually
means that the young man feels that
he can not afford to marry." Indian
aolis Journal.
Husband "Another milliner bill?
Why, I paid one only day before yes
terday!" Wife "Day before yester
day? Goodness, how time flies!"
Flicgende Blatter.
"How is your daughter fretting
I along witn nor piano." splendid.
replied Mr. Pinehpenny, "She bought
it on the installment plan an' hot got
it "most paid fur." Washington Star.
Tom "Why, Bessie. I could kiss
you right under you mother's nose.
Bessie (with dignity) "I should very
much prefer, sir, that you'd kiss me
under my own nose." Scottish Amer
ican. Patron (to laundryman) "John,
how did it happen that the Japanese
killed so many Chinaman in the last
battle?" John "Notee know. May
bee bigee rain makes bad runnee." X.
Y. Weekly.
"Is it true that Ilouser is hustling
for the post office?" "Gupss it is. I
heard his wife tell him if 1 e didn't get
her letter mailed inside of twenty min
utes she'd know the reason why." Buf
falo Courier.
"Have you a time table hero?" asked
the seedy stranger. "Our terms," re
plied the restaurant keeper, "are cash
in advance." "Foiled again," hissed
the seedy stranger between his useless
teeth. Indianapolis Journal.
First Lobster "It's getting lone
some here now, with all the society
bathers gone." Second Lobster ' 'Never
mind; we are liable to meet them after
supper this winter, and then we'll get
the rest of our fine work in." Syracuse
Post,
The Daughter ''Can't you let me
have that one hundred dollars, father'
I once heard yon say that you would
give your last cent to your children "
The Father "Yes, but I haven't pot ta
my last cent yet." Munsej-'s Maga
sine
An Irish judge had a habit of beg
frmg pardon on every occasion. One
day. as he was about to leave the
bvr.ch, the officer of the court reminded
him that he had not paastwl sentence
of death on one of the criminals, us he
had intended. "Dear me!" said hia
LordtVip: "I ,lcg his pardon brinjr
him i v.. "TP. -Bits.
FOR SUNDAY READING.
THANKSGIVING SONG.
Thank the Lord for all the mercies
He has showered upon our land;
Tbank Him that He still has held us
In the hollow of His hand:
Thank Him for th dawn of morning.
For the noontide's golden beams;
Thank Him for the dewy nightfall.
Wooing u to pleasant dreams.
Thank the Lord for all His bounties.
For the fruit upon the tree.
For the flower that blooms in springtime.
For the bird und for the bee:
Thank Him for our homes and firesides.
Dearer far than mines of wealth:
Thank Him with our hearts and voices
For the priceless gift of health.
Thank Him for our creature cossforts.
For the oil and for the wine;
Thank Him for the -feast of fat taints.
For the fig and for the vine:
Thank Him for the bounteous harvest.
For the fields of golden grain.
For the nooks upon the hillsides.
For the late and early rain
Thank the Lord for all the mercies
He has showered upon our wiiy:
Thank Him for the loved ones guttered
Kound our festal board to-day:
And while mem'ry pictures fondly
Some dear face we see no more,
Thank Him for the loved ones waiting
Over on the other shore.
Helen V. Clark, in fiolden Days.
HOW BEST TO BE THANKFUL.
It Is to Kelieve the Won and Wants of
Others a to Christ and for llii Sakr.
The impulse to make some requital
for favors received is instinctive and
universal. If verbal thanks are all we
can give, we feel bound to render
them. If able to reciprocate favors, we
have a sense of obligation to do so. If
a benefactor chooses to designate some
other person or persons to whom re
turn for his kindness to us shall be
made, the obligation extends to them.
To the question of a grateful Wne
ficiary: "'What can I do for your kind
ness to me?" it is common to hear the
answer: "Do a similar favor for others
whenever you can." Sometimes the
children or grandchildren of a bene
factor receive help and protection
from those he has assisted years be
fore. The obligation of gratitude
never ceases until it is paid.
When an earthly friend does us a
favor, we are usually not at a loss to
find some suitable expression of grati
tude for it: but when God crowds our
lives with innumerable mercies, which
are rich every evening and new tvery
morning, we may well pause to inquire
with the Psalmist: "What shall I ren
der unto the Lord for all His benefits
toward me?" What appropriate ac
knowledgment can we make for bless
ings so vital that existence would be
impossible without them, and so many
that they can not be reckoned up in
order: and if we would declare and
speak of them, they are more than can
be numbered? We can not recipro
cate God's favors; can not "come
unto His seat" and pour gifts
at His feet, as did the Magi of
old. We can not do anything to enrich
Him or add to the completeness of His
being. AVhat. then, shall we reader
unto Him for all benefits? We can
thank and praise Him for His good
ness. And this is the right and manly
thing- to do. "It is a good thing to give
thanks unto the Lord," and "to sing
praises unto our God; for it is pleasant,
and praise is comely." Private and
public verbal thanks and songs of
praise to the Giver of all good are ra
tional and appropriate expression of
gratitude for His bounties. So the
psalmist evidently thought when he
said: "I will take the cup of salvation
j and call upon the name of the Lord I
will pay my vows unto the Lord now
in the presence of all His people." And
since the world began there has been
no singer of God's praises equal to
the psalmist. We can find no
better summary of God's goodness in
which to voice our own gratitude than
this: "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and
forget not all His benefits: Who for-
giveth all thine iniquities; Whohealeth
! all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy
life from destruction; Who crowneth
thee with lovingkindnesses; Who sat-
isfieth thy mouth with good things, so
that thy youth is renewed like the
eagle's."
But spoken thanks alone do not sat
isfy the impulses of any truly grateful
heart. We nusf, be thanks givers as
tvell as thanks speakers. And we may
as truly make gifts to God as if we
could carry them to His seat and lay
them at His footstool, for He has
told us repeatedly that gifts to His
needy ones are received as given
directly to Him. To those who
had fed the hungry, clothed the naked,
visited tthe sick and imprisoned. He
said: "Inasmuch as ye have done it
unto the least of these My brethren, ye
hae done it unto Me." He has so
identified Himself with suffering hu
manity that we give to Him by giving
to the needy.
This, then, is the best thanksgiving,
that our ears are ever open to the cry
of human want, and that according to
our ability we relieve that want ; with
out this practical giving of thanks to
God by gifts to those He has desig
nated and commanded us to help, our
verbal thanks are "vain oblations."
Faith without works is not more dead
than praises to God who are deaf to the
cries of distress about them. They are
neither sincere nor acceptable to God.
Besides gifts to those in want, the
best Thanksgiving also includes the
highest gift in our power to make, the
gift of ourselves to God, the consecra
tion of all our powers and means to
llfs service. That is the logic of God's
relation to us as our creator, preserver,
redeemer and daily benefactor. So the
apostle declares: "Ye are not your
own, ye are bought with price: there
fore, glorify God in your bodies and
spirits, which are His;" and: "I be
seech you, therefore, brethren, by the
mercies of God that ye present your
bodies a living sacrifice, holy, accepta
ble unto God which is your reasonable
service." N. W. Christian Advocate.
Th Way to Knowledge.
When tempted to wish that God
would tell us just what we ought to do
and o -gut not to do, we will always
do well to ask ourselves if we have
done all that God has told us to do.
. The path of obadiaaea is the way to
LinowieJe.
GOD'S WONDERFUL PEACE.
It Can Be Obtained Throne, li I.ove for God
and All That lie Has Made.
This is a peace which "passeth all
understanding;" yet it is a matter of
conscious possession unto those who
have it. A man ma know that he has
the peace of God while utterly failing
to comprehend it, and this is not ex
traordinary, for while every man
knows that he has life. Done can give
to himself or to others a satisfactory
explanation of what that life is. We
look over the realm of nature and are
greeted with the fragrance of the
flower, with the overflowing life of the
plant and with the harmony of pur
pose manifested in the animal king
dom: we know th?t these things are,
but can not understand from whence
they come nor whither they go.
How can the peace of God be ob
tained? Through iove love for all;
first, the love for God. and then for all
things that He ha: made. Before we
can truly love a thing, we must havo
sympathy with it a feeling together
a consciousness that the motive of our
own existence and of that of the ob
ject loved have been merged into one.
We can not love Christ, if we are at
variance with Him, and failing to love
Him, the peace of God can not fall to
our share.
A true love for Christ is a surrender
of self to Him. His motives must be
ours. His life the pattern, which we
most closely follow.
How absurd would seem the proposi
tion, that an individual would won
tonly injure or destroy any object, on
which his affections were set. Nature
is full of manifestations of this princi
ple. There is that eternal and ever
abounding exemplification, the love of
the mother for her offspring. While
that love lasts, the mother's life is
swallowed up in the child's. As the
child grows older and reciprocates his
life becomes what the mother has
made it. In all relations where love
exists, no discord can mar the harmony
so long as the love' itself continues.
But even as the love of God is far
greater than can possibly be the love
of any human being, so much greater
is the peace which He gives to those
who truly love Him. The symbol of
this love is service, and the reward
that peace which passeth all under
standing. Young Men's Era.
STUDYING THE BIBLE.
Why Time Should Be Taken to Make Fa
miliar Its Page.
As we drift along the swift, relent
less current of time toward the end of
life; as days and weeks and months
and years follow each other in breath
less haste, and we reflect now and then
for a moment that, at any rate for us,
much of this earthly career has passed
irrevocably; what are the interests,
thoughts, aye, the books, which really
command our attention? What do wa
read and leave unread? What time
do we give to the Bible? No other
book, let us be sure of it, can equally
avail to prepare us for that which lies
before us; for the unknown anxieties
and sorrows which are sooner or later
the portion of most men or women; for
the gradual approach of death; for the
period, be it long or short, of waiting
and preparation for the throne and face
of the eternal Judge. Looking back
from that world, how shall we desire
to have made the most of our best guide
U it! How shall we grudge the hours
we have wasted on any be they
thoughts, or books, or teachers which
only belong to the things of time!
Canon Liddon.
CONDITION OF FREEDOM.
I Is Not In Sin Bnt in Obedienre to Christ
That True Freedom Is Oained.
The highest, truest and only real
freedom known to man, or possible for
him, is that inner disposition which
leads invariably to obedience to Christ.
He who sins serves, and he serves a bad
cause and indicates an inner debase
ment and a bondage. Freedom in
variably implies purity. Water loaded
with mud. however it may rush in
channels open for it, is not free water.
The soul of man, however it may fol
low its own impulses, is not free whil
it willeth to serve the devil. This very
taint of corruption is an addition to it,
a something not belonging there, a
mixture of originally foreign elements.
Only when that which has come into
the soul by the influence of tempta
tion is removed, can man be free. "If
therefore the Son shall make you free
ye shall be free indeed." Christian In
quirer. Watching for Defect.
The machinist in a large factory has
a keen eye for weak points. A flaw in
the shafting here or a broken lace in a
belt there may stop the whole factory.
He loses no time in strengthening the
weak place. Now it does not take long
for a thoughtful man or woman to dis
cover the weak point in his or her char
acter if a proper watchfulness is ob
served. Bear off the pressure till it can
be made strong and reliable. Interior.
WISDOM BY THE AUTOCRAT.
Lsspirinc Thonghts From the
Pen of
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
The Amen of nature is always a
flower.
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the
handle that fits them all.
Knowledge and timber shouldn't be
much used till they are seasoned.
Men. like peaches, grow sweet a lit
tle while before they begin to decay.
How many people live on the reputa
tion of the reputation they might have
made.
There are times when every active
mind feels itself above any and all hu
man books. ,
I find the great thing in this world is
not so much where we stand as in what
direction we are moving.
The great minds are those with a
wide span which couple truths related
to but far removed from each other.
A thought is often original, though
you have uttered it a hundred times.
It has come to you over a new route by
an express train of associations.
Talking is like playing on the harp;
there is as much in laying the hand on
the strings to stop their vibrations as
in twanging them to bring out tnsi
I music
