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About The alliance. (Lincoln, Nebraska) 1889-1889 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 30, 1889)
THE PHILANTHROPIST. r . Nearly everybody in Naples knew the condescending and benevolent old Duke, San DIodata, and nearly every body loved him. It was getting: dark; the people of. fashion were returning from their promenade on the quay. Beautiful women, bold military officers, elegant "horseback riders all of them greeted the Duke with marked attention. v Every one received the same pleas ant and benevolent smile, with this "difference, however, that in response to a nod from out of the cushions of a carriage, the Duke condescended to bow, while on other occasions he con sidered a familiar nod, a motion of his hand, a wink of his small and spark ling eyes as sufficient. . The Duke was in an unusual hurry. A magnificent dinner was to take place that evening at Irisio's, in which all the dignitaries of the city were to par ticipate. It was almost necessary that the noble philanthropist, the darling of the people of Naples, should be present on that occasion. His valet, a dress coat decorated with three badges and a low-cut silk waistcoat over his arm, awaited him at home. Eccellecfea, it is high time!" ! The Duchess, a stately lady of 'about the age of 50 years, made her appear ance on the threshold. (. "You are late, my dear." I He kissed her hand politely and then naked the valet: "THE SAME WITn ME, MY CHILD." "Any people waiting for me?" (' "Yes, Signore Duca! Shall I send them away?" "By no means!" But the Duchess held him by the arm. "Cher Due! The Princess of Monte -leone's reception is at hand; I can not possibly appear in the same robe for the fourth time." "You can not? Have it changed a trifle, my dear. You have an excellent taste in such things and always look elegant always beautiful." ' "Flatterer!" replied the Duchess, smiling without affectation. "But this time I am at the end of my resources. I must have money!" ; 'The same with me, my child! You can not. find a soldo in my. pockets. 1 gave the lastI had to a beggar in the "Villa Kazion ale." "Then only one way is left for me: I will nave to use a sick neaaacne lor a Bah! This is a small matter! For what purpose do you keep a dress maker?" "There are three robes charged on last year's account " I "That leaves room for a fourth." Saying this he withdrew to the audi ence room.- A half a dozen people crowded around him. "Signore Duca my son!" 'Eccellenza per pieta P "Monsignore have pity!" J- "Adagio adagio, my children!" in terrupted the Duke kindly, taking a Beat ana wiping ms oaia bead, witn a eilk handkerchief. "Every one in due order. Who was here first?" i "I, Signore Duca!" i An old man in a peasant's jacket, his legs wound in goat skins, stepped for ward in .a stooping attitude. 'From the country, my dear old friend P What troubles you?" "Ah, Eccellenza. The King has drafted my son, my only son, into the army to send him into America. When my reppe is gone, i must 3tarve, poor cripple that I am! I and my three orphaned grandchildren." i "That, the King would regret very tnuch!" The corners of the good old Duke's mouth twitched with emotion, hut he tried to preserve his dignity, inquiring narsmy xor tne station, age and name of the applicant and zeal ously lotting them down in his note book. After a little while, he motion ed pleasantly with his hand: "Addio, my old friend! You shall keep your son and you shall have a better opinion of our most gracious King in future." The next in order was a man who liad been employed on a railway and who asserted that he had lost his situ ation without fault on his part The Duke promised to obtain a new situa tion for him. - His word sufficed to satisfy the man. The next to approach was a neatly clad, tall young, fellow with the genu ine face of the lazzarone. "Is that you, Saivatore?" said the Duke, familiarly. "Have you lost your master again?" 'Eccellenza! my political convic tions have induced me to give warning to my former padrone, this Roman, this Garibaldian -" "Is that so? In other words, you have explored your master's pockets again." - - "No! No! Eccellenza!" replied the fellow, with the airs of hurt innocence, hut the cunning sparkle of his eyes be trayed how flattered he felt at the close conjecture of his distinguished protector. - "I would prefer to become the camericre of some patriotic Nea politan gentleman, to ' whom I could make mvself useful during elections without offense to my own convictions. If Eccellenza would graciously -" . What? You rascal! . My recom mendation?" exclaimed the Duke with an expression of moral wrath on his face, but at th same time blinking him kindly. Sisslgnore, Eccellenza." "Well! Well!" Alter a snort aeiitter. ation. the duke tore a leaf from -his note book and wrote the following on it: . ' : "Mr Dear Count: Knowing that you are in need of a circumspect valet, I take the liberty to recommend the bearer of these lines to you as such; he Is an authority among the Cammorrists and a political power among the people of Mercato otherwise ho is a thief of the first quality. "The Duke of San Diodato." The young fellow received the care fully sealed communication with de light and kissed the Duke's hand. Then the Duke turned to a pale young woman who was endeavoring to cover her thin shoulders and the patch es on her dress with a large unclean, black shawl. , , "What is your desire, my dear woman?" "Oh, Eccellenza, I am starving, to gether with my two children who are sick with fever!" She prostrated her self at his feet. "My husband has been sick a long time and can not find work " "Very well You send him to me to morrow. We need a porter in our club. If your husband can fill the situation he shall have it." The woman was profuse with her thanks. "Have you anything to eat for this evening, cara mia ?" the Duke asked, tenderly, "How could we, Eccellenza ?" The Duke passed his hand over his eyes hastily. They were moist. He thought of the feast to come. His hands instinctively groped in his pock ets. Then his glance fell upon the last of the applicants. He was his tailor. "Is that you, Jerrucci ? I have no small change about me. Give the poor woman five lire !" He arose and rubbed his hands with satisfaction. After some hesitation, Jerrucci pulled out his purse and gave the woman several pieces of silver. "Signore Duca, Eccellenza here are four ! I have no more " "Good ! good ! honest Jerrucci ! That will do for this evening ; will it not, it "WW ii -V my- nttie .woman "'- lie pauea ner cheek in a fatherly way, "You shall be cared for to-morrow- r" And now he was alone with his tai lor. "Well, Jerrucci ?" "Oh, Excellenza, I am in need of money L 11 you would, be so kind toe little account of last year " The Duke interrupted him impatient- ly: "But, Jerrucci ! Don't occupy my time with such insignificant matters ! Don't you sea that I have not a mo ment to lose!" "Eccellenza, my rent is due to-morrow ! My landlord threatens " "He does ! If the fellow dares to molest you, I will make it disagreeable for him ! You tell him that I, the Duke of Sau Diodato, hold you in high esteem! Dou you understand? And now addio,' Jerrucci ! We will talk about this some other time." VnnPC TXT TTrP i TXT T7 ATII The tailor went vexation and ejre had left his heart entirely. There was even a faint smile of satisfaction on his thin and yellow face. The establishment of Irisio Brothers lies on the shore of Posillipo, on a rock that reaches some 50 yards into the sea. Here a party of distinguished gentlemsn were assembled around a magnificently prepared banquet. The sea murmured gently. The crack of champagne bottles was heard now and then. There were toasts in prose and toast3 in verse, accompanied by the soft notes of the mandolina. ' During tne last course the minstrels withdrew to the long balcony, where the coffee and cigaretts were to be served to the eruests afterward. The company was to rise from the table amidst the sounds of the Italian nation al hymn. Suddenly the Duke of San Diodato left the table and the hall The head waiter with his dress coat and white necktie, who was superin tending the banquet from the distance. like a gentleman, and served nothing with his hands except perhaps . some cigarettes, came to meet him with zeal ous politeness. "I. say, Carlino," whispered the duke; "just hand me a 20-franc piece It is impossible to arouse enthusiasm with these shabby bank notes. Now you shall see how I remembar my poor friends!" When he re-entered . the hall the noise of the moving chairs was begin ning to intermingle with the last notes of the national hymn. The duke raised his full and dignified voice: "One moment, gentlemen!" De Sbaglio, a talented journalist, and one of the duke's partisans, whose large - intellect' and small conscience were admired and feared in all Naples, poked his neighbor, Onorevole Ucheri, his friend and rival, in the side and said jeeringly: . "Our good old Duca is becoming pathetic. I wager that he has some roguery in petto.'1 "My friends!" said the Duke, with emotion, "I saw a poor woman shed tears to-day, the recolleetion of which burns on my conscience while I am within this gleeful circle furrounded 11 by affluence and luxury. The man who can feast while he beholds his fellow. man starve is a heartless crea ture! Could I do otherwise, gentle men than to promise help to this un fortunate woman, whose husband and children are stricken down by sickness? Knowing your humane sentiments, my dear friends, I take the liberty to beg of you that you assist me in this char itable act. Allow me to set you an ex ample!'' He seized a silver platter with a rest of macaroons on it, emptied them on to the table cloth and then dropped his gold piece into it noisily. The head waiter, overcome by admiration of this princely, munificence, saw from a distance how the platter gradually filled with gold pieces. Norte of the distinguished guests would have kis generosity appear inferior to that of others, De Sbaglio excepted. With the jeering look of a Mephistophetes that was peculiar to him, he placed some silver pieces on the platter, and smiled ambiguously. "My Duke" he said, "we people of the press are the gypsies among the aristocrats of the mind; .we have noth ing that we can call our own, and we can get and give what we have." ' The Duke was moved, and shook him by the hand. The journalist made a wry face, and whispers to his neighbor at the left: , "He is uncommonly tender and affec tionate, our good old Duca! He must be in an awfully tight pinch!" "I hasten, gentlemen," exclaimed the Duca, "to make a needy family happy! I will return in half an hour. Waiter! my carriage!" The head waiter respectfully opened the door of the antechamber for him and the Duke handed him a gold piece: "Ecco! Carlino! Grazie! m m ' On the following morning the Duch ess was surprised by the present of a new robe from her husband. The amiable lady thanked him, tenderly kissing him on both cheeks, but she was a great deal too sensible and ex perienced to inquire whence the bless ing had come. An Aristocratic Canine. "You mean dog collars," said a New York Press reporter to the omniscient society man. , "No, sif; I mean a dpg ring. You see, fashionable people who love their pets tired of gold and silver and stud ded collars, so, after much laborious brain searching, they hit upon the idea of a jeweled ring." "Isn't the ring liable to slip off the animal's leg when in action?" "It isn't for the leg. It's for the tail." "Don't you think their jewels will excite the cupidity of dosr-stealers?" "Undoubtedly; but you must remem ber they will only be worn by animals who are well able to take ca re of themselves." "Don't you think that it would be an excellent idea if society people provided their, dogs with eye-glasses and toothpicks?" "I never gave the subject any thought" "And with increasing civilization. culture and refinement oughtn' t society cats to be provided with bi-acolets?" "Really, now, don't ask me such questions. We men look after the dogs. The welfare and adornment of the cats is a matter for the considera tion of the ladies." At first the reporter was inclined to believe that his informant, who sucked most of his knowledge from the head of his walking-stick, was lying with Munchauseu-like aplomb. A stroll up Fifth avenue, however, convinced him that he had not been listening to an innocent fiction. Within a quarter of an hour half a dozen ring-tailed bull dogs were encountered. Each of them waddled along with a proper pride, and each of them was accompanied by one or more of those vapid specimens of incipient manhood known as dudes. Man is Composed of Air. The following is from Justus Liebig, the greatest chemist of the nineteenth century: "Science has demonstrated j that man, the being which performs the greatest wonders, is formed of con densed air, or solidified1 and liquefied rrn c o c tViafr. Vita litroa rn stnnrlancorl qc well as on uncondensed air, and, by means of the same agent, moves the heaviest weights with the velocity of the wind. But the strangest part of the matter is that thousands of those tabernacles formed of condensed air are going on two legs, destroying other forms of condensed , air which they may need for food or clothing, or on account of their power, destroying each other in pitched battles, by means of the same materials of which they ar5 composed. Chemistry sup plies the clearest proof that, so far as concerns this, the ultimate and most minuts composition and structure, which is beyond the reach of our senses, man is, to all appearances,, identical with the ox, or even with the animals., lowest in the scale of creation." Alaska Bcaonrc33. The list of Alaska resources grows larger almost every month. Not only is it said to have an abundance of min erals and an inexhaustible supply of coal, but it is now claimed by a few en thusiasts that it is a great natural wheat country in some parts. Still further, a learned crank now comes forward to prove that the heart of Alaska is a magnificent semi-tropical region, being protected from the cold of the north by a lofty chain of mountains and arti ficially warmed by vast a number of volcanoes and hot springs. He admits that he has never been in Alaska, but the fact, he says, is really a point in favor of his theory, for he is not bur dened with any prejudices on the sub ject.' ' : -.' - : ' - ' The man who is mo3t ready to give advice is the one who received a great deal that he failed to use. : The weather is as uncertain as the age of a girl over thirty. Richmond .Recorder. THE FARM. Airriealtirftl Jotes. 7--v;' Cayenne pepper in moderation fs a valuable ingredient in the soft food for chickens. Toe much of it is irri tating to the internal organs. The winds of this season will make sad havoc with the flocks if they are exposed, and especially should the hens be protected at night. When a man is frightened or angry his digestive organs do not work; this is also true of an animal hence the profit of keeping it in a peaceful and fearless state by kind treatment. In fattening hogs, have a dry floored pen and plenty of clean bed ding. Dispense with that half of the pen generally allowed for rooting in the ground. The dairy interests of the United States, says an exchange, foot up to $3,000,000,000, while the entire banking capital of thecountry is only about $981,000,000. The number of milch cows is 21,000,000, giving an average of 350 gallons each an nually, or 7,350,000,000 gallons in a year. , Cows are liable to severe accidents If compelled to tramp over icy paths to water, or if, ice is allowed to ac cumulate around the watering trough In the yard. There is no room for Question about the economy of tak ing the extreme chill from the drink ing water for stock. Yet there are few farmers who will take the trouble, and the least they can do is to see that the chilly watering places are not rendered inaccessible by ice block ades. . Clorer For Snine. It will be a sign of progressive farm ing when the owner of swine saVes 2kver for his hogs in winter, or goes further and preserves in a silo sweet zorn with which to winter and help fatten his hogs. The possibilities of hog rearing with the right kind of 3ilage are beyond reckoning. We must have more hogs on the farm to make more . fertility. The cost of wintering is the present drawback; but with clover, silage, and roots there may be an immense increase with corresponding profit. A good breeding sow is a good investment, with a little more faith in the natur al food for swine. Care of Cattle. If the cattle are turned out of doors to drink or for exercise, do not let them remain out to long, and guard against their having to plunge through snowdrifts or against slip ping upon icy places. A little ex ercise in the open air in pleasant weather is beneficial to all animals, but a half-hour in each afternoon is enough when the thermometer marks below the freezing point in the sun, and is too much in a cold rain or a blustering cold, wind. Perhaps the young stock, if well fed and lively enough to caper and play about the yard, may not be injured by a longer season out of door, but they should be taken in before they begin to hump up their backs and turn their tails toward the wind. Cultiva tor. Bow to Milk a Coir. The most economical way to milk a cow, all things considered, is to milk the two fore teats clean, leaving off with a pretty full stream, and then milk the hind ones down to a short stream, and, returning to the fore ones, milk them to the same con dition, not touching the hind ones again. This wil leave the teats empty, and the bags too. It is a false notion that tugging away at the teats stimulates a cow to give more milk; but, on the contrary, emptying the bag as soon as possible yields more; then the cow can have the extra time to eat, which is a bet ter stimulus than either. A slow milker is never tolerated in the dairy districts, and a "stripper" is an inju ry anywhere. The sooner the cow is milked, and all the organs connected with feeding, digestion and secretion are left in their natural condition, the better it is for the cow. Rural Cana dian. Shiftless Farming. That farming is too often carried forward in a happy-go-lucky way,may account for the large number of shabby buildings, dilapidated fences, and run-down appearances of the farms generally. The owner may be more often found lounging about the village saloon, or dawdling about the streets in an aimless way, than at work on the farm. This is the extreme case. His children are poor ly clad, but often clean, for the poor wife may be struggling to do her best by them, despite the intemperance of the husband. If the husband is struggling to better himself and fam ily, the buildings and fences will be kept in decent repair until the time comes when bettter can be built, and the farmer will be found at home, working earnestly to this end.? He is not unthrifty. Years may qome and go. A good vegetable garden will be cultivated, and trees here and there will be planted to give needed shade and protection. The time as length arrives when, the mortgages having been lifted, a modest house is built, and barns and sheds are ad ded. The stock is thrifty and ac cumulating from year to year, the farm becomes .more and more fertile and somethinglike the picture of the home of Farmer Thrift is pre sented to the view of the passer by. Fortunately, in the West, compar atively few surroundings of the first slass are found. There are however, enough to keep in mind the fact that thrift in agriculture means a careful attention to the work in hand, and that an accurate knowledge from month to month is necessary to oring the balance at the end of the right side of the ledger. Young farmers, commencing to carve out . farm, which picture will be your lim through life? Prairie Farmer. TALMACE AT ATHENS. ErogreM of tin Celebrated Brooklyn Divine on His Ptfgrimage. He Discourses to a Group of Friends and Countrymen in Ancient Athens on "The Glorious Revelation to By'-An Eloquont Sermon. Having reached Athens on his pilgrimage to the Holy Land, Rev. T. DevVitt Tal mage last Sunday preached to a group of friends, basin his discourse on the fol lowing two passages from the Pauline epistles : L Corinthians, ii, 9: "Eye hath not seen, nor 'ear heard," and L Corinthians, xiii. 2: For now we see through a glass, darkly." The sermon was as follows : Boih these sentences were written by the most illustrious merely huraan being the world ever saw, one who walked these streets, and preached from yonder pile of rocks. Mars Hills. Though more classic associations are connected with this city than with any other city under the sun, because here Socrates, and Plato, and Aristotle, and Demosthenes, and Pericles, and Xenophon, and Praxiteles wrote ' or chiseled, or taught or thundered oi sung, yet in my mind all those men and their teachings were ellpsed by Paul and the Gospel ho preached in this city and in your near by city cf Corinth. Yesterday, standing on the old fortress of Corinth, the Acro-Corinthus, out from the ruins at its base arose in my imagination the old city. Just as Paul saw it. I have been told that for splendor the world beholds no such wonder to-day as that ancient Corinth standing on an istnmus washed by two seas, the one sea bringing the commerce of Europe, the other sea bringing the commerce of Asia. From her wharves, in the construction of which whole kingdoms had been absorbed, war galleys with three banks of oars push ed out and- confounded the navy yards of all the world. Huge-handed ma chinery, such as - modern invention cannot eual, lifted' ship3 from the sea on one sido and transported them on trucks across the isthmus and set them down in the sea on the other side. The revenue officers of tha city went down through the olive groves that lined the beach to collect a tariff from all nations. The mirth of all people snorted in her Isth mian games, and the beauty of all lands sat in her theatres, walked her porticos and threw itself on the altar of her stupendous dissipations. Column and statue and tem ple bewildered the baholder. There were white marble fountains into which, from apertures at the sides, there rushed waters . everywhere known for health giving quali ties. Around these basins, twisted into wreaths of stone, there were all the beau ties of sculpture and architecture, while standing, as if to guard the c03tly display, was a statue of Hercules of burnished Corinthian brass. Vases of terra cotta adorned the cemeteries of the dead vases so costly that Julius Caisar was not satis fied until he had captured them for Rome. Armed officciais, , the corinth arii, paced up and down to see that no statue was defaced, no pedestal over thrown, no bas-relief touched. From the edge of the city the hill held its mag nificent burdens of columns and towers and temples (1,000 slaves waiting atone shrine), and a citadel so thoroughly impregnable that Gibraltar is a heap of sand compared with it. Amid all that strength and magnificence Corinth stool and defied the world. Oh! it was not to rustics who had never seen anything grand tha.t Paul uttered one of my texts. They had heard the best music that had como from the best instruments in all the world ; they had heard songs floating from morning porticos and melting in evening groves; they had passed their whole lives among pictures and sculp ture and architecture and Corinthian brass, s which had been molded and shaped until there was no chariot wheel in which it had not sped, and no tower in which it had not glittered, and no gateway that it had not adorned. Ah, it was a bold thing for Paul to st md there amid all that' and say: "All this is nothing. . These sounds that come from the temple of Nep tune are not music compared with the har monies of which I speak. These wa ters rushing in the basia of Pyrene are not pure. These statues of Bac chus and Mercury are not exquisite. Your citadel of Acro-Corinthus is not strong compared with that which I offer to the poorest slave that puts down his burden at that brazen gate. You Corinthians think this is a splendid city; you think you have heard all sweet sounds and seen all beautiful sights; but I tell you eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man. the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." Indeed, both my texts, the one spoken by Paul and the one written by Paul, show us that we have very imper fect eyesight, and that our day of vision is yet to come : For now we sea through a glass darkly, but then face to face. So Paul takes the responsibility of saying that the Bible is an indistinct mirror, and that its mission shall be finally suspended. I think there may be one fcible in heaven fastened to the throne. Just as now, in a museum, we have a lamp exhumed from Herculaneum or Nineveh, and we look at it with great interest' and say: "How poor a light it must have given, compared: with our modern lamps." So 1 think that this Bible, which was a lamp to our feet in this world, may lie near the throne of God, exciting our interest to all eternity by the contrast between its comparatively feeble light and the illumination of heaven. The Bible, now, is the scaffolding to the rising temple, but when the building is done there will be no use for the scaffolding. Tbe idea I shall develop to-day is, tisat In this .world our knowledge is comparatively dim and unsatisfactory, but nevertheless is introductory to grander and more complete vision. This is eminently true in regard to our view of God. We hear so much about God that we conclude that we understand him. He is represented as having the tenderness of a father, the firmness of a judge, the pomp of a king and the love of a mother. We hear about him, talk about him, write about him. We lisp his name in infancy, and it trembles on th' tongue of the dying octogenarian. We think that we know very much about him. Take the attribute of mercy. Do we un derstand it! The Bible blossoms all over with that word Mercy. It speaks again and again of the tender mercies of God ; of the sure mercies ; of the great mercies ; of the mercy that endureth forever; of . the multitudes of his mercies. And yet I know that the views we have of this great being are most indefinite, one sided and incom plete. When, at death, the gates shall fly open, and we shall look directly upon him, how new and surprising! We see upon canvas a picture of tho morning. We study the cloud in the sky, the dew upon the grass, and the husbandman on the way to the field. Beautiful picture of the morn ing! But we rise at daybreak, and go upon a hill to see for ourselves that which )was represented to us. While we look, the mountains are transfigured. The burnished gates of heaven swing open and shut, to let pass a host of fiery splendors. The clouds are all abloom, and hang pend ant from arbors of alabaster and amethyst. The waters make pathway of inlaid pearl for the light to walk upon; and there is morning among the mountains. Now you go home, and how tame your picture of the morning seems in contrast! Greater than that shall be the contrast between this Scriptural view of God and that which we shall have when standing face to face. This is a picture of the morning; that will be the morning itself. Again: My texts are true of the Sav iour's excellency. By image, and sweet rhythm of expression, and startling antith eses, Christ is set forth his love, his com passion, his work, his life, his death, his resurrection. We are challensed to meas ure it, to compute it, to weigh it. In the hour of our broken enthrallment, we mount up into high experience of his love, and shout until the countenance glows, and the blood bounds, and the whole nature i3 ex- vinrited. r have found him!" And yet it to thSSh a glis darkly. We see not half of that compassionate face. W o feel not half the warmth of that loving heart. Wo wait for death to lot us rush into his out spread arms. Then we shall be face to face. Not shadow then, but substance.' Not hop j then, but the fulfilling of all prefigurement That will be a magnificent unfolding. The rushing out in view of all hidden excellen cy; the coming again of a long absent Jesus to meet us not in rngs and in icnury and death, but amidst a light and pomp and out btirsting joy such as none but a gloriflod intelligence could experience. Oh! to gaze full upon the brow that was lacerated, upon too side that was pierced, upon the feet that were nailed; to stand close up in the presence of him who prayed for us on the mountain, and thought of us by the sea, and agonized for us in the garden, and died for us in horrible crucifixion, to feel of him, to embrace him, to take his hand, to kiss his feet, to run our fingers along the scars of ancient suf fering, to say: "This is my Jesus! He gave himself for me. I shall never leave his presence. I shall forever behold his glory. I shall eternally hear his voice. Lord Jesus, now I see thee ! I behold where the blood started, where the tears coursed, where the face was distorted. I have wait ed for this hour. I shall never turn my back on thee. No more looking through Imperfect glasses. No m-ore studying thee in the darkness. But as long as this throne stands, and this everlasting river iidws, and those garlands bloom, and these arches of victory remain to greet home heaven's con querors, so long I shall see thee, Jesus of my choice, Jesus of my song, Jesus of my triumph forever and forever face to face!" The idea of my texts is just as true when applied to God's providence. Who has not come to some pass in life thoroughly inex plicable? You say: "What does this mean ! What is God going to do with me now! He tells me that all things work together for good. This does not look like it." You continue to study the dispensation, and after awhile guess about what God means. "He means to teach me this. I think he means to teach me that. Perhaps it is to humble my pride. . Perhaps it is to make me feel more dependent Perhaps to teach, me the uncertainty of life.',' But, after all, it is only a guess a looking through the glass, darkly. The Bible assures us there shall be a satisfactory unfolding. "What do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." You will know why God took to himself that only child. Next door there was a household of seven children. Why not take one from that group instead of your only one? Why single out the dwell ing in which there was only one heart beat ing responsive to yours ? Why did God give you a child at all, if he meant to take it away? Why fill the cup of your gladness brimming, if he meant to dash it down! Why allow all the tendrils of your heart to wind around that object, and then, when every fiber of your own life seemed to be interlocked with the child's life, with strong hand to tear you apart, until you fall bleeding and crushed, your dwelling desolate, your hopes blasted, your heart, broken! "Do you supposo that- God will explain that? Yea. He will make it plainer than any mathematical problem as plain as that two and two make four. In the light of. the throne you will see that it was right all right "Just and true aro all thy ways, thou king of saints." Here is a man who cannot get on in the world. lie always seems to buy at tho wrong time and sell at the worst disadvantage. Ho trios this enterprize, and fails; that business, and is disappointed. Tho man next door to him has a lucrative trade, but bo lacks customers. A new prospect opens. His income is increased. But that year his family aro sick; and the profits are expend ed in trying to cure the ailments. He gets a discouraged look. Becomes faithless as to succoss. Begins to expect disasters. Others wait for something to turn up; he waits for it to turn down. Others, with only half as much education ana character, get on twice as well. He sometimes guess es as to what it all means. He says: "Per haps riches would spoil me. Perhaps pov erty is necessary to keep me bumble. Per haps I might, if things were otherwise, bo tempted iuto dissipation." But there is no complete solution of the mystery. He sees through a glass darkly, and must wait for a higher unfolding. V ill there be any ex planation? Yes; God will take that man in the light of the throne and say : "Child im mortal, hear the explanation! You re member the failing of that great enterprise. This is the explanation." And you will answer: "It is all right!" I see, every day, profound mysteries of Providence. There is. no question we ask of tenor than Why? There are hundreds of graves that need to be explained. Hospi tals for the blind and lame, asylums for the idiotic and insane, almshouses for the destitute and a world of pain and misfor tune that demand more than human solu tion. Ah ! God will clear it all up.' In the light that pours from the throne no dark mystery can live. Things now utterly inscrutable will be illumined as plainly as though the answer were written on the jasper wall or sounded in tho temple anthem. Bartimeus will thank God that he was blind; and Lazarus that he was cov ered with sores; and Joseph that he was cast into the pit: and Daniel that he denned with lions; ana Paul that he was humpbacked; and David hat he was driven from Jerusalem; and the sewing woman that she could get only a few pence for making a garment; and that invalid that for twenty years he could not lift his head from the pillow; and that widow that she had such hard work to earn bread for her children. You know that in a song different voices carry different parts. The sweet and overwhelming part of the hallelujah of heaven will not be carried by those who rode in high places, and gave sumptuous entertainments; but pauper children will sing it, beggars will sing it, redeemed hod carriers will sing it, those who were once the offscouring of tbe earth will sing it. The hallelujah will be all tho grander for earth's weeping eyes, and aching heads, and exhausted hands, and scourged backs, and martyred agonies. Again : The thought of my text is true when applied to the enjoyment of the righteous in heaven. I think we have but little Idea of the number of the righteous in heaven. Infidels say: "Your heaven will be a very small placo compared with the world of the lost; lor, according to your teaching, tho majority of men will bo destroyed." I deny the charge. I suppose that the multitude of the finally lost, as compared with the multitude of the finally saved, will be a handfuL I suppose that the few sick people in the hospitals of our great cities, as compared with the hun dreds of thousands of will people, would not be smaller than the number of those who shall be cast out in suffering, compared with those who shall have upon them the health of heaven. For wo aro to remember that we aro living in only the bo ginning of the Christian dispensation, and that this whole world is to be populated and redeemed, and that ages of light and lovo are to How on. If this be so, the multitudes of the saved will be in vast majority. Take all the congregations that have assembled for worship throughout Christendom. Put them together, and they would make but a small audience compared with the thous and and tens of thousands, and ten thous and times ten thousand, and the hun dred and forty and four thousand that shall stand around the throne. Those flashed up to heaven in martyr fires; those tossed for many years upon the invalid couch; those fought in the armies of liberty, and rose as they fell; those tum bled from high scaffoldings, or slipped from the mast, or were washed off into the sea. They came up from Corinth, from Laodicea, from the Rod sea bank and Gennesarot's wave, from Egyptian brickyards and Gide on's threshing floor. Those thousands of years ago slept the last sleep, and these are this moment having their eyes closed, and their limbs stretched out for the sepulcher, A general expecting and an attack from tho enemy stands on a hill and looks through a field glass and sees in the great distance multitudes approaching, but has iio idea of their num bers. Ho says : 'I can not toll anything about them. I merely know that there aro a great number." And so John, without attempting to count, says: "A great multitude that no maa can number." Wo are told that hoavcu i a place of happiness; but what do wo know about happiness? Happiness ia lhi world is only a half fioJgoi thlnsr; a flowery path with a serpent hbsin across it; a broken pitcher, from which the water has dropped before wo could drink it; a thrill of exhilaration, followed by disastrous reactions. To help us under stand the joy of heaven, the Bible takes u to a river. We stand ou tho grassy back. We see the waters flow on with ceaseles wave. But tho filth of tbe cities is cmptie4 into it, and the banks aro torn, and un healthy exhalations spring up from it, ana we fail io get an idea of tho llivcr of Lif in heaven. We get very imperfect ideas of tho re unions of heaven. We think of iomo festal day on earth, when fatherand mothor wero yet living, and the children came honu. A good time, that! But it had this drawback all were not there. That brother went off to sea, and never wai heard from. That sister did we not lay her away in the froshness of her young life, never more ia this world to look upon her I Ah! tfeera was a skeleton at the feait; and tears mingled with our laughter on that Christ mas day. Not so with heaven's reunions. Ii will be an uninterrupted gladuess. Many a Christian parent will fook around and find all his children there. "Ah I" ho says, "can it be possible that we aro all here life's perils over! the-Jordan passed and. not one wanting! Why, even the prodigal is hero. I almost gave him up. How lonar he despised my counsels t but graco hat triumphed. All here! all hero! Tell tho mighty joy through tho city. Let the bell ring, and tho angel mention It in their song. Wave it from the top of the walla. All here 1" .No more breaking of hoartstrlngs, tut face to face. The orphans that wore left poor, and in a merciless world, kicked and cuffed of many hardships, shall join thc;r parents over whose graves they so long wept, and gaze into their glorified counte nances forever, faco to face. Wo may como up from different pirts of the world, ono from the land aud another from the depth of the sea; from lives affluent and prosper ous, or from scenes of raggod distress: but we shall all meet in rapture and jubilee, face to face. Many of our friends have entered upon that joy. A few days ago they sat with u studying those Gospel themes; but they only saw dimly now revelation hath come. Your time will also come. God will not leave you floundering in the darkness. You stand wonderstruck and amazed. You feel as if all the loveliness of life were dashed out You stand gazing into the open cham of the grave. Wait a little. In the pres ence of your departed and of him who carries them in his bosom, you .shall soon stand face to face. Oh! that our last 'hour may kindle up with this promised joy I May wo boablo to say, like tho Christian notion? ago, departing: "Though a pilgrim walk ing through the valley, the mountain top aro gleaming from peak to peak!" or, liko my dear friend and brother, Alfrod Cook man, who took his flight to tho throne of God, saying in his last moment that which has already gone into Christian classic: "I am sweeping through the puarly gate, washed in tho blood of tho lamb!" A Drunkard's Hie hen. Whisky has various eitects upon'it3 drinkers, but it usually briujjs to tho surface their most prominent trait. When it proceeds to ffet In Its work it make3 some men sorrowful, oilier boisterous, eorno quarroisomo and others happy. There is a certain newspaper man hi Chicago, according to the Herald, upon whom hard liquo. has a very pleasinjr elTect, so far aa ho is concerned himself. For instance, he will awake in the morning vr ith a. head constructed of the effect of the night before, and vainly search through empty pocket for cocktail money. Then he will jro ' forth upon the highway, foeling like tho pauper which ho is for tho moment A friend will come along and uslc him to have a drink. He accepts the invitation, and this first drink represents an iinmagi nary two-dollar bill in h la pocket. The' second driuk raises this to $10, ami when ho downs his fifth driuk he is drawing an immaglnary salary of t0 per week. Along about 4 p. m. if his luck in meeting convivial friend stands by him, ho begins to consider the advisibility of purchuslng the pa per on which he works, and at 0 p. m. he goes out to hire a good local BtaJT. liefore he retires ho is, in his mind, the proprietor of a great metropolitan, daily, and is intending to givo away gold watches as premiums with hi "great dollar weekly." When ho awakes the next morning he isngnin a reporter out of a job, but before night he owns tho paper again. Whisky with him means fortune and prosperi ty. - St ran i Life In Alaska. 'The furniture in tho native hut i very sparse, says a traveler writing from the Yukon river In Alaska a few birch-bark baskets, some spoons of ivory, wooden dishes, arrows, spears, maybe a gun, straw mats, and furs. Every thiug smells worso than a soap factory. The people are literally covered with vermin. They aro miser ably poor. They pet very littlo for the game and fish they have to sell. Doth' are so plentiful that wo havo tired of ducks, goose, and salmon. A I am writing there are somo magnifi cent mountains in sight. They remind me of the first range of tho Rockies in Colorado. In the woods there aro lotj wild roses, and tho hillsides aro a green as any lawn in spring. It i difficult to beliove that this is an arctic land wheu you observo tho luxuriant forests, the groeu grass, tho flowers, and mark how warm tho days are. But dig down ten inches anywhere and you will find tho ground frozen hard. At JMulato they havo dug twenty-livo feet to get water, and tho ground wa frozen all tho way down. In spite of this tho weather is so warm that every man is going around in his shirt sleeves. Mosquitoes aro plentiful aud ferocious." One rit for Tiro. Books of the sixteenth century speak of the employment of trenchers at tho table. They introduced, says Mr. Hazlitt, "the fashion of placing a lady and gentleman alternately at meals, the couple thus seated eating from one trencher." Walpolo relates that So lato as tho middle of tho last centurv the old duke and duchess of IlamilUm occupiod tho dais at tho head of ibo room, and preserved tho traditional manner by sharing tho samo plate" As long ago as tho tenth century, and the habit continued long after, two meals a day was tho rulo with all classes. As tho times became bettar, and more luxurious ways wero possi ble, the supper was added, and oven in some cases a sub-supper. They Are Kicking. A Canadian marriago, under exist Ing laws, is a partnership for life; but the Canadians are tired of the formal ities which stand in tho way, and are moving to secure a divorco court and the conveniences which surround it. They aver that separation without di vorce tends to lowor tho standard oi morality.