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PERILS OF THE SEA.
Sermon By Rev. T. DeWitt Tal
mage at BrindisL
The Peril Encountered By Thou Who Go
Down to the Sea In Ship The Chris
tiaa Life a Voyage Itrnet with
Peril The Haven Ahead.
The following sermon was delivered
by Rev. T. DeWitt Talmago at Brindisi,
while on his trip to the Holy Land, and
after a week spent among the historic
localities of Italy. His text was:
And so it came to pass that they escaped
all safe to land. Acts xxvii., II.
Having visited your historical city,
which we desire to see because it was
'the terminus of the most famous road of
the ages, the Roman Appian Way, and
for its mighty fortress overshadowing a
city which even Hannibal's hosts could
not thunder down, wo must to-morrow
morning leave your harbor, and after
touching at Athens and Corinth, voyage
about the Mediterranean to Alexandria,
Egypt. I was reading this morning in
my New Testament of a Mediterranean
voyage in an Alexandrian ship. It was
this very month of November. The ves
sel was lying in a port not very far from
here. On board that vessel wero two
distinguished passengers; one, Josephus,
tho historian, as we have strong reasons
to believe,; the other, a convict, one
Paul by name, who was going to prison
for upsetting things, or, as they termed
it, "turning tho world upside down."
This convict had gained tho confidence
of the captain. Indeed, I think that
Paul knew almost as much about
the sea as did tho captain. Ho
had been shipwrecked three times al
ready; he had dwelt much of his life
amidst capstans, and yardarms, and
cables and storms; and ho knew what
he was talking about. Seeing the equi
noctial storm was coming, and perhaps
noticing something unscaworthy in the
vessel, he advised the captain to stay in
the harbor. But I hear the captain and
the first mate talking together. They
say: "We can not afford to take tho ad
vice of this landsman, and he is a minis
ter. He may bo ablo to preach very
well, but I don't believe lie knows a
niarlincspikc from a lull tackle. All
aboard! Cast off! Shift the helm for
headway! Who fears the Mediterra
nean?" They had gone only a little
way out when a whirlwind, called Euro
elydon, made the torn sail its turban,
shook the mast as you would brandish a
spear, and tossed the hulk into tho
heavens. Overboard with the cargo! It
is all washed with salt water, and worth
less now; and there are no marine in
surance companies. All hands ahoy,
jnd out with the anchors!
Great consternation comes on crew
and passengers. The sea monsters snort
in the foam, and the billows clap their
bands in glee of destruction. In a lull
of the storm I hear a chain clank. It
is the chain of the great apostlo as he
walks the deck or holds fast to the rig
ging amidst tho lurching of the ship
the spray dripping from his long beard
as he cries out to tho crew: "Now I ex
hort you to be of good cheer; for there
shall be no loss of any man's life among
you. but of the ship. For there stood
by me this night the angel of God,
Whose I am, and Whom I serve, saying:
'Fear not, Paul; thou must be brought
liefore Caesar;' and, lo. God hath given
thco all them that sail with the."
Fourteen days have passed, and there
is no abatement of. the storm. It is
midnight. Standing on the lookout,
the man peers into the darkness, and,
by a flash of lightning, knows they
must be coming near to some country,
and fears that in a few moments the
vessel will bo shivered on the rocks.
The ship flies liko chaff in the tornado.
They drop tho sounding line, and by the
light of tho lantern they see it is twenty
fathoms. Speeding along a little
further, they drop the line again, and
bj the light of the lantern they see it is
fifteen fathoms. Two hundred and seventy-six
souls within a few feet of awful
shipwreck.
' Tho managers of the vessel, pretend
ing they want to look over tho side of
the ship and undergird it, get into the
small boat, expecting in it to escape; but
Paul sees through the sham, and he
tells them that if they go off in the boat
it will lie the death of them. The ves
sel strikes! Tho planks spring! Tho
timbers crack! The vessel parts in the
thundering surge! Oh, what wild strug
gling for life! Here they leap from
plank to plank. Here they go under as
if they would never rise; but, catching
hold of a timber, come floating and
panting on it to tho beach. Here,
Strong swimmers spread their arms
through the waves until their chins
plow the sand, and they rise up and
wring out their wet locks on the beach.
When the roll of the ship is called, two
hundred and seventy-six people answer
to their names. "And so," says my text,
"it came to pass that they escaped all
safe to land."
, I learn from this subject:
Ilrst, that those who get us into
trouble will not stay to help us out.
These shipmen got Paul out of Fair
Havens into the storm; but as soon as
the tempest dropped upon them they
wanted to go off in the small boat, car
ing nothing for what became of Paul
and the passengers. Ah, mo! human
nature is the same in all ages. They
-who get us into trouble never stop to
help us out. They who tempt that
.young man into a life of dissipation will
be the first to laugh at his imbecility
and to drop him out of decent society.
Gamblers always make fun of tho losses
of gabblers. They who tempt you into
the contest with fists, saying: "I will
back you," will be tbo first to run. Look
over all the predicaments of your life,
and count the names of those who have
got you into those predicaments, and
tell me the name of one who ever
"helped you out Thoy were glad
enough to gee you out from Fair
Havens, but when, with damaged rig
ring, you tried to get into harbor, did
they hold for you a plank or throw you a
rope? Not one. Satan has got thou
sands of men into trouble, but he never
got one out. Ho led them into theft,
but be would not hide the goods or bail
4Hti the defendant The spider shows
the fly the way over the gossamer bridge
into the cobweb, but it never shows the
fly the way out of tho cobweb over tho
gossamer bridge. I think that thero
were plenty of fast young men to help
the prodigal spend bis money; but when
be had wasted his money in riotous liv
ing they let him go to the swine past
ures, while they betook themselves to
some other now-comer. They who took
Paul out of Fair Havens will bo of no
help to him when he gets into the
breakers of Mclita.
I remark again, as a lesson learned
from the text, that it is dangerous to re
fuse the advico of competent advisers.
Paul told them not to go out with that
ship. They thought ho knew nothing
about it. They said: "Ho is only a
minister!" They went and the ship
was destroyed. There are a great many
people who now say of ministers: "They
know nothing about the world. They
can not talk to us!" Ah. my friends, it
is not necessary to bavo the Asiatic
cholera before you can give it medical
treatment in others. It is not necessary
to have your own arm .broken before you
can know how to splinter a fracture
And we who stand in the pulpit and in
the office of a Christian preacher, know
that thero are certain styles of belief
and certain kinds of behavior that will
lead to destruction as certainly as Paul
knew that if that ship went out of Fair
Havens it would go to destruction. "Ro
joicc, O young man, in thy youth; and
let thy heart cheer thee in tho days' of
thy youth; but know thou that for all
these things God will bring theo into
judgment." We may not know much,
hut we know that.
Young people rcfuso tho advico of
parents. They say: "Father is over
suspicious, and mother is getting old."
Rut those parents have been on tho sea
of life. Thoy know where tho storms
sleep, and during their voyage have
seen a thousand battered hulks marking
the place where beauty burned, and in
tellect foundered, and morality sank.
They aro old sailors, having answered
many a signal of distress, and endured
great stress of weather, and gono scud
ding under bare poles; and the old folks
know what they aro talking about
Look at that man in his check the
glow of internal fires. His eye flashes
not as once with thought but with low
passion. His brain is a sewer through
which impurity floats, and his heart the
trough in which lust wallows and
drinks. Men shudder as the leper
passes, and parents cry, "wolf! wolf!"
Yet he once said tho Lord's Prayer at
his mother's knee, and against that in
iquitous brow once pressed, a puro moth
er's lip. J Jut he refused her counsel.
He went where euroclydons have their
lair. He foundered on tho sea, while
all hell echoed at the roar of tho wreck:
Lost Pacifies! Lost Pacifies!
Another lesson from tho subject is
that Christians are always safe. There
did not seem to be much chance for Panl
getting out of that shipwreck, did there?
They had not in those days, rockets
with which to throw ropes over founder
ing vessels. Their lifeboats were of but
little worth. And yet notwithstanding
all the danger, my text says that Paul
escaped safe to land. And so it will al
ways be with God's children. They may
be plunged into darkness and trouble,
but by the throne of the eternal God, I
assert it, "they shall all escape safo to
land." Sometimes there comes a storm
of commercial disaster. Tho cables
break. The masts fall. Tho cargoes
aro scattered over the sea. Oh! what
struggling and leaping on kegs and hogs
heads and corn-bins and store-shelves!
And yet, though thoy may have it so
very hard in commercial circles, the
good, trusting in God. all como safo to
land. Wreckers go out on the ocean's
beach and find the hulks of vessels, and
on the streets of our great cities there
is many a wreck. Mainsail slit with
banker's pen. Hulks abcam's end on
insurance counters. Vast credits sink
ing, having suddenly sprung a leak.
Yet all of them who aro God's children
shall at last, through His goodness and
mercy, escape safe to land. Tho Scandi
navian warriors used to drink wine out
of the skulls of the enemies they had
slain. Even so God will help us, out of
the conquered ills and disasters of life,
to drink sweetness and strength for our
souls.
You have, my friends, had illustra
tions in your own life of how God de
livers His people. I havo had illustra
tions in my own life of the samo truth.
I was once in what on your Mediterra
nean you call a curoclydoo, but what on
the Atlantic we call a cyclone, but tho
same storm. The steamer Greece, of
the National Line, swung out into tbo
Mersey at Liverpool, bound for New
York. We bad on board seven hundred,
crew and passengers. We came together
strangers Italians, Irishmen, English
men. Swedes, Norwegians, Americans.
Two flags floated from the roxsts Brit
ish and American ensigns. We had a
new vessel, or one so thoroughly remod
eled that the voyage had around it all
the uncertainties of a trial trip. Tho
great steamer felt its way cautiously
out into the sea. The pilot was dis
charged; and. committing ourselves to
the care of Him who holdeth the winds
in His list we were fairly started on our
voyage of three thousand miles. It was
rough nearly all the way the sea with
strong buffeting disputing our path.
But ono night at eleven o'clock, after
the lights had been put out a cyclone
a wind just made to tear ships to pieces
caught us in its clutches. It came
down so suddenly that we had not time
to take in the sails or to fasten the
batches. You may know that the bot
tom of tbe Atlantic is strews with the
ghastly work of cyclones. Oh! they
are cruel winds. They have hot breath,
as though they came up from the in
fernal furnaces. Their merriment is
the cry of affrighted passengers. Their
play is the foundering of steamers.
And, when a ship goes down, they laugh
until both continents hear them. Thoy
go in circles, or, as I describe them with
my hand rolling on! rolling on!
with finger of terror writing on
the white sheet of the wave
this sentence of doom: "Let all
that come within this circle perish!
Brigantlnes, go down! Clippers, go
down! Steamships, go down!" And the
vessel, hearing the terrible voice,
crouches ia tbe surf, and as the waters
gurgle through the hatches and port
holes, it lowers away, thousands of feot
down, farther and farther, until at last
it strikes the bottom; and all is peace,
for they have landed. Helmsman, dead
at the wheel! Engineer, dead amid the
extinguished furnaces! Captain, dead
in the gangway! Passengers, dead in
the cabin! Buried in the cemetery of
dead steamers, beside the City of Bos
ton, the Lexington, tho President, the
Cambria, waiting for tho archangel's
trumpet to split up the decks, and wrench
open the cabin doors, and unfasten tbe
hatches.
I thought that I had seen storms on
the sea before, but all of them together
might have come under ono wing of that
cyclone. Wo were only eight or nine
hundred miles from homo, and in high
expectation of soon seeing our friends,
for there was no ono on board so poor as
not to have a friend. Rut it seemed as
if wo were to he disappointed. The most
of us expected then and there to die.
There were none who made light of tho
peril, save two. One was an Englishman,
and ho was drunk, and the other was an
American, and ho was a fool! Oh! what
a time it was! A night to make one's
hair turn white. We came out of tho
lierths, and stood in the gangway, and
looked into the steerage, and sat in the
cabin. While seated there we heard
overhead something like minute guns.
It was tho bursting of the sails. We
held on with both hands to keep our
places. Thoso who attempted to cross
the floor came back bruised and gashed.
Cups and glasses wero dashed to frag
ments; pieces of the table getting looso,
swung across the saloon. It seemed as
if the hurricane took that great ship of
thousands of tons and stood it on end,
and said: "Shall I sink it, or let it go
this onco?" And then it came down with
such force that tho billows trampled
over it each mounted of a fury.
Wo felt that every thing depended on
the propeling screw. If that stopped for
an instant we knew tho vessel would
fall oil into the trough of tho sea and
sink, and so we prayed that tho screw,
which three times since leaving Liver
pool had already stopped, might not
stop now. Oh! how anxiously we list
ened for the regular thump of tho ma
chinery upon which our lives seemed to
depend. After awhilo some ono said:
"The screw is stopped!" No; its sound
had only been overpowered by tho up
roar of tho tempest, and we breathed
easier again when we heard the regular
pulsations of tho overtasked machinery
going thump, thump, thump. At three
o'clock in tho morning the water cov
ered the ship from prow to stern,
and tho skylights gave way! The
deluge rushed in, and we felt that
one or two more waves like that must
swamp us forever. As the water rolled
back and forward in tho cabins and
dashed against the wall, it sprang half
way up to the ceiling. Rushing through
tho skylights as it came in with such
terrific roar, there went up from the
cabin a shriek of horror which I pray
God I may never hear again. I have
dreamed the whole scene over again,
but God has mercifully kept mo from
hearing that one cry. Into it seemed to
be compressed the agony of expected
shipwreck. It seemed to say: "I shall
never get home again! My children
shall be orphaned, and my wife shall be
widowed! 1 am launching now into
cternitv! In two minutes I shall meet
my God!"
There were about flvo hundred and
fifty passengers in the steerage, and as
the water rushed in and touched the
furnaces and began violently to hiss,
tho poor creatures in tho steerage im
agined that tho boilers were giving
away. Those passengers writhed in the
water and in the mud. somo praying,
some crying, all terrified. They made a
rush for the deck. An officer stood on
deck and beat them back with blow
after blow. It was necessary. They
could not have stood an instant on the
deck. Oh! how they begged to get out
of the ship! One woman, with a child
in her arms, rushed up and caught hold
of one of the officers and cried: "Do let
me out! 1 will help you! Do let me
out! 1 can not die here!" Somo got
down and prayed to the Virgin Mary,
saying: "O, blessed mother! keep us!
Have mercy on us!" Somo stood with
white lips and fixed gaze, silent in their
terror. Somo wrung their hands and
cried out: "O, God! what shall 1 do?
What shall I do?"
The time came when the crew could
no longer stay on tho deck, and tbe cry
of the officers was: "Below! all bands
below!" Our brave and sympathetic
Captain Andrews whoso praiso I shall
not cease to speak while I live had
been swept by tho hurricano from his
bridge, and had escaped very narrowly
with bis life. Tbe cyclono seemed to
stand on the deck, waving its wing, cry
ing: "This ship is mine! I have capt
ured it! Ha! ha! I will command it!
If God will permit T will sink it here
and now! By a thousand shipwrecks. I
swear the doom of this vessel!" There
was a lull in the storm; but only that it
might gain additional fury. Crash
went the lifeboat on ono side.
Crash! went the lifeboat on
tho other side. The great booms
got loose, and. as witb the heft of a
thunderbolt pounded tbe deck and beat
tho mast tho jib boom, studding sail
boom and square sail boom, with their
strong arms, beating time to the awful
march and music of the hurricane.
Meanwhile the ocean became phosphor
escent Tho whole scene looked like
fire. The water dripping from the fig
ging, there were ropes of fire;and there
were masts of Arc; and there was a
deck of fire. A ship of fire, sailing on
a sea of fire, through a night of fire.
May I never seo any thing like it again!
Evory boiy prayed. A lad of twelve
years of age got down and prayed for hia
mother. "If I should give up," be said,
"I do not know what would become of
mother." There were men who, I think,
had not prayed for thirty years, who
then got down on their knees. When a
man who has neglected God all bis life
feels that he has come to his last time,
it makes a very busy night All of our
sins and shortcomings passed through
our minds. My own life seemed
utterly unsatisfactory. I could only
say: "Here, Lord, take me as I
am. I can not mend matters
now. Lord Jesus, thou didst die for the
chief of sinners. That's me! It seems.
Lord, as if my work is done, and poorly
done, and upon Thy infinite mercy I cast
myself, and in this hour of shipwreck
and darkness commit myself and her j
whom I bold by tho hand to Thee, O j
Lord Jesus! praying that it may be a
short strugglo in the water, and that at
the same instant we may both arrivo in
glory!" Oh! I tell you a man prays
straight to tho mark whon ho has a
cyclono above him, an ocean beneath
him and eternity so closo to him that ho
can feel its breath on his cheek.
The night was long. At last we saw
the dawn looking through the port holes.
As in the olden time, in the fourth watch
of the night, Jesus came walking on tho
sea, from wave cliff to wave cliff: and
when Ho nuts His foot unon a billon,-.
though it may bo tossed un with mirht
it goes down. Ho cried: "Hush!" They
knew His voice. Tho waves knew His
foot. Thcv died awav. And in tho
shining track of His feet I read theso
letters on scrolls of foam and fire:
earth shall bo filled with
"Tho
the
tera
knowledge or God as tho waters
cover the sea." Tho ocean calmed. The
path of the steamer became moro and
more mild, until, on tho last morning
out the sun threw round about us a
glory such a3 I never witnessed before.
God made a pavement of mosaic, reach
ing from horizon to horizon, for all tho
splendors of earth and Heaven to walk
upon a pavement bright enough for the
foot of a seraph bright enough for tho
wheels of tho archangel's chariot. As a
parent embraces a child and kisses away
its grief, so over that sea, that had been
writhing in agony in the tempest, tho
morning threw its arms of beauty and of
benediction, and tho lips of earth and
Heaven met
As I came on deck it was very early,
and we wero nearing the shore I saw a'
Tew sails against the sky. They seemed
liko the spirits of tho night walking the
billows. I leaned over tho taffrail of
the vessel, and said: "Thy way, O God,
is in tho sea, and Thy path in tho great
waters." It jrrew lighter. Tho elouda
hung in purple clusters along the sky; , snectmg it critically, thinking meanwhile
and, as if thoso purple clusters were that tho girls' hats were all to bo rather ex
pressed into red wino and poured out pensive this seasou, and that it was time to
upon the sea, every wave turned intc ' retrench somewhere. What great differ
crimson. Yonder, tiro cleft stood op- ence t,id il mako about aa old lauy's bonnet
posito to firo cleft; and here, a cloud, way, so that it was comfortable-she
ronUml tinl th l!,f c.i i!i- I went out bo little.
a palace, with flames burning from the
, ,i., .;?. n,"i.?";::: ;::.:::
windows. The whole scene lighted un
until it seemed as if tho anirels of God
were ascending and descending upon j
stairs or hre, and tho wavo crests,
changed into Jasper, and crystal, and
crystal, and amethyst, as they were
flung toward the beach, made mo think
of the crowns of Heaven cast before tho
throne of tho great Jehovah. I leaned
over the tailrail again, and said, with
moro emotion than before: "Thy way,
O God, is in tho sea, and thy path in the
great waters!"
So, I thought, will bo the going off of
the storm and night of the Christian's
life. The darkness will fold its tents
and away! The golden feet of tho ris
ing morn will como skipping upon tho
mountains, and all the wrathful billows
of the world's woe break into the splen
dor of eternal joy. And so wo como
into the harbor. Tho cyclono behind
us. Our friends beforo us. God. who
is always good, all around us. And if
the roll of tho crew and tho
passengers had been called, seven hun
dred souls would havo answered to
their names. "And so it came to pass
that we all escaped safe to land." And
may God grant that when all our Sab
baths on earth aro ended, wo may find
that through tho rich mercy of our
Lord Jesus Christ, wo all have weath
ered the gale!
Into the harbor of Heaven now we glide.
Home at la.t!
Softly we drift on the bright silver tide.
Home at lust!
Glory to God ! All our dangers are oVr;
We stand secure on the glorified shore.
Glory to God! we will shout evermore.
Home at last!
Home at last!
a
MANNERS AT TABLE
A Grace That Mnt Ito Acquired in Early
Childhood.
The time for acquiring good table man
ners is during childhood, and at home.
Years at boarding-school, hours spent
over books of social etiquette, may ef
face vulgar habits, but can never givo
the ease and grace acquired in child
hood at a well-ordered table. A child
who is almost a baby can be taught to
handle his knife and fork, or spoon, if ho
is too young for those more advanced
implements, with a daintiness that will
offend no one Whcro thero are chil
dren it is not a good plan to have a wido
difference between your every-day and
company china, silver and napery.
There is too apt to be a wide difference
also between every-day and company
manners Leteach child have hiscover
as nicely laid witb plate, knife and fork,
spoon, napkin and glass as his elders,
and remember that ho will bo sure to
noto your own uso of theso articles.
Teach him to say "Thank you," and
"please." and if ho is allowed toleavo
the table before the meal is ended let
him learn to say "Excuse me." Wo
wero very much amused at a baby of
four summers who recently dined at our
table The meal, interspersed with in
teresting conversation, was tedious to
his infant appetite and intellect and
finally tho little man spoke up with:
"May I lie excused, please? I have en
joyed my dinner very much." Someone
at the table not his father remarked
that that boy bade fair to bo "the finest
gentleman in America." American Ag
riculturist. Tho greatest wheel of its kind in the
world, a very wonder in mechanism,
stands in the main shop of the Dicksoa
Manufacturing Company, in Scranton.
It was built for the Calumet and Ilecla
Mining Company, of Lake Superior, ,
Mich., for the purpose of lifting and dis
charging the "tailings," a waste from
the copper mines, into the lake, and its
diaioteris54 feet while its weight in
acute operation will be 200 tons. It is
called a 50-foot sand-wheel, but its ex
treme dimensions are 54 feet in diame
ter. Some idea of its enormous capacity
can be lormed from the fact that it will
receive aad elevate sumcient sand every
twenty-four hours to covet an acre of
(round a foot deep.
GRANDMA'S BONNET.
Aunt Maria's Thoughtless and Bit
terly-Regretted Words,
T WAS years ago one
March, when a few
days of sprinciikc
air swelled tho buds
on tho maples, sent
small green shoots
from the daffodils,
and set us girls plan
ning about spring
bats.
Cousin Louiso and
I wero to go in the
city to-morrow on a
slioDninir expedition.
so my sister and I
ran across the street to Aunt Maria's to
consult with our cousins, tho "other girls,
' , We atvays drifted into KranJf.?m;
. l wa tbe largest, plcasantest roomio the
'i ruifict nn frvtmi mra otick Kn iin'Ub aauu
rheorv itb lnvr.1 in bn with her. She Bat by
tVU7. UUU KUiUUlM w -" -l-t
j .i,at morning, occasionally putting in her
quiet word, while wo went deep into luo
subject of straws and bonnets and leghorns,
high crowns, rolling brims, tips, plumes,
ribbons, etc. It was all settled at last, t hat
Louise, being fair, should get a palo blue,
shirred-Uko bonnet and Cousin Clan a
white crape ono with pick roses; Sister
Ruth's bounet was to be lilic herself, quiet
and sweet a fiue straw with a bit of deli
cate lace aud heliotropes; while m:ne, all
agreed, should be a hat. with rolling brim,
' faced with black velvet aud glowing with
, scarlet poppies. There was no need of so
much clatter and consultation, however, for
each, after receiving advice, resolved to
provide herself with the identical head-gear
she had in mind for tho lost month.
After we had somewhat subsided, grand
ma got up and went to her bureau drawer.
"I guess 111 havo my bonnet tended to
while you're about it," sho said, as she care
fully lifted it out. "I've worn it just as it
i going on live years now. Isn't it getting
a little sort o' rustvi"
"Grandma ought to havo a new bonnet,
mother," said Louise. "Ono of thoso fine
black Neapolitans, trimmed with black lace,
would bo lovely for her."
Aunt Maria "took her mother's straw bon
net and turned it about on her baud, m-
-'Oh, I don't think I need anew one."
grandma said, meekly. "That would be cx
i travagant; but 1 thought a new border
might be put in, and may be a new pair of
strings."
"I don't seo any thing tho matter with
tho border," said Aunt Maria, in a decided
tone. "Tho strings can be sponged ami
ironed, and they will look as well as ever."
So saying, sho handed it back to grand
ma, and turned to give Louiso further com
missions for tho city.
Ruth told me afterward that sho felt like
saying: "Givo it to me, grandma. I win
have It all freshened up for you, and 1'it
pay for it myself."
But none of us ever thought of going con
trary to Aunt Maria's docrces. Sho was
the commander-in-chief of both households.
Grandma took her bonnet in sdence, aud
put it back in tho drawer. Sho was no:
growing childish, but I was sure that a tear
trembled on her eyelid as she bent her
AUNT MARIA TOOK IIER MOTHER'S STKAW
BOXNET.
white head an unnecessary timo over he
drawer. She felt hurt I know sho did
Sho was not a vain old lady, but her tastes
were nice, and sho knew as well as any of
us younger ones that her bonnet had lost
its freshness.
Grandma took her knitting work present
ly, and seated herself by tho south window
in her arm-chair. As I watched her, I fell
to wondering if her thoughts were going
hack just now over tho years to ihe
time when Aunt Maria was a baby. They
were pooi, then, and I bad heard grandma
toll bow sho did her own work, and made
shirts for several families to make the ends
meet Was grandma recalling bow she
had sat up nights and sewed to earn money
enough to buy a cunning little whito hood
made of satin and swan's down for her
baby girl! Or did she rcicnibcr bow
many weary stitches it took to earn that
line, broad-brimmed straw hat trimmed
with white ribbon, that her thirteen-year-old
daughter might be "like other girls?"
Perhaps her mind dwelt on a story she bad
often told me; how, when Aunt Maria was
nineteen, there came an invitation for her
to go to Boston and spend a month.
"Maria felt bad," grandma's story ran,
"because she thought her hat wasn't fit to
wear. I had a bonnet made of a splendid
piece of velvet that my brother sent to me
from Paris. I didn't say a word to any
body. I just slipped upstairs and ripped
that bonnet up, then I got your grandfather
to take me to town. I had some money I
had been saving up a good while to buy me
a new bombazine dress, but I thought a
cheaper one would do just as well; so I just
took some of that money and went to the
best milliner in town. I bought a long, black
feather I knew Maria liked 'em aad I told
her to make mo a hat fit to be seen in Bos
ton. I never let on to any body what I'd
done. But you ought to V seen Maria
when that bat came home II sho wasn't
happy 1 It was a beauty I Tbo long, black
feather curled around her golden hair, and
just touched ber shoulder. Ia front there
was a littie white tuft 'with some tall birds
o'ptradlse feathers waving in it ThemiUi-
ner said it needed that so I got it beside.
You've no idea how handsome she looked,
and I enjoyed that hat forty time better
than when I had it for mine."
Was grandma thinking: "And yet Maria
begrudges me a little new ribbon for my
bonnet as well off as she Is, tool" If any
such thought disturbed her, they dli not
appear on her placid face as she paaantly
knitted on.
It was only a fortnight from that day. and
we gathered again in graadaa'a room
There was no merry talk. There we that
strange hash which bet qm prtseace
aflsaaMwr
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brings, broken only by low, saa strains or
music, and words of consolation spoken in
subdued tones.
Grandma slept peacefully. There lin
gered on her dear face the light of the ten
der smile she had given usat parting. Fair
flowers wero all about her, and I noticed, a
1 bent above her for tho last time, how puro
und fresh tho white ribbon was which tied
her cap. and then with a pang remembered
her old bonnet strings. Dear grandma,
she had gone where garments are without
spot or wrinkle. IIow she would enjoy the
white raiment, the purity, the unchanging
freshness of the Ilea venly land!
Wo all loved grandma dearlv; for a time
itscemedasif we could not go on without
her. Ono day towards evening a longing
seized me to look onco more into grandma's
toom; sol went across the street, stole
around to tho side door, which opened di
rectly into her room. It was ajar, and I
stepped softly in. Grandma's arm-chair
empty stood by the window. I leaned over
it, trying to picture her as I I;d seen her
so often sitting at dusk humming her favor
ite hymn :
Sua of my soul, Thon Saviour dear.
But tho sound of sobbing reached my
ear, and, looking up, I saw in the shadows
at the further end of tho rocm Auut liana,
standing by tho bureau. Graudma. boa
net was in her hand. Sho turned it about
and looked at it as if she would torture her
self with tho certainty that it was indeed
shabby, then sho kissed it again and bowed
her head low over it m an agony of bitter
weeping. And I had thought Aunt Maria
self-constrained and cold! She had not
heard mo come in, so I went noiselessly
away.
Aunt Maria meant to be a good daughter
She had always abundantly supplied her
mother with necessities and comforts, but
she would have given all sho possessed that
night standing there in that desolate room
to be able to recall tho thoughtless words,
which for the sake of a few paltry dollars
denied tho dear old mother almost the last
request ever made.
"Let love antedate tho vrorkof death."
and now bring tbe sweet spices of a fresh
ribbon, a flower, a tender word, a loving
thankfulness, which will brighten hearts
that arc weary. Cougregationulist-
MAKING PKESENTS.
O old a custom us the
giving of gifts ought
ia our day to be
brought to a high
state of perfection.
Yet wo aro still
crude givers. Some
excellent people give
to churches or char
ities with insulting
words, declaring that
the Gospel U free,
and it was not in
tendid sinners
should pay car-fare
to Heaven.
Thero is a boun
teon"gushof givins
twculiar to Ameri
cans whii-h rises like a tide and sweeps cit
'esand villages at every public calamity.
Wo givo to tho unfortunate with both
hands; givo him our coats, our shoes, our
food. If he is burnt out, m-ilcodcdout,
or plague-driven out of his home, ho be
comes that instant grandly our own flesh
aud spirit. Wo suffer in him until we can
relievo his snffering. T.o human raepiloe.
rise to high points. We are never defi55f
here.
It is the little, every-day, common giving
in which wo arc still deficient.
But iu the person who never gives at all
there dwells a meaner nature than in the
poorest giver. v
He is tho man who regards a lax hold of
any kind of property a weakness. He looics
with contempt and astonishment on a per
son who gives.
"And she was always making presents,"
I heard a woman once say in summing up a
young teacher's demerits.
The thoroughness of a man's or woman's
civilization may actually ho gauged by his
tact and sense in giving presents. You
know the fellow who comes m and knock.i
you dowr with his gift. Ho pats himself.
lie has been going t. do something hand
some for you for a long time, tnd he has
done it. Oh, tha.'s all right. You needn't
Fay any thing. Ho knows he has laid you
out flat under an obligation which is to last
your lifetime. Ju-.t hold still and let lu'ra
stand on the top of it and crow. That is
your role. You know also th; dear friend
who buys you somccostly, ugly thing which
you have looked on with aversion, but
which you must accept with smiles while
your heart sinks in your pocket-book. lie
must not rob himself rn your account.
Yerdy, your money, which would have
bought you just what you desired, must gt
for a tokeu, when occasion arises, to tins
discerning friend. IIow niuch we do waste
in our miserable guess-work!
Well, also, do you know the wretch v.-hc
brings you a mongrel dog or broken-legged
bird and "makes a present" of it.
"Tho poor creature was suffering and I
thought I'd bring it to you."
This donor is complimentary to your hi
manity.
We all bavo a weakness for presents,
which is amiable and human. They testi
fy to our popularity. The man who is "sur
prised by his fellow-citizens and a cane o
upholstered chair or any object which they
please to call a testimonial, and who is
touched to tears as he draws his prepared
speech from bis pocket, is really a more
(I have seen just one such) who make
it a rule never to accept any present.
Very seldom are wedding presents re
garded as gifts. They come under the head
of taxes. Yet thero are occasions when
costly presents are graceful. The "simple-Iittle-cift"
theory may be run into the
ground. It signifies more or less stinginess.
"To-morrow is Grace's birthday," says a
sister who owes the life and health of her
own family to Grace's long and faithful
service Grace, who took care of the babies
and nursed them through more illnesses
than the hairs on their little heads would
number. "I want to give her a present and
I don't know what to give bar." (Who ever
does know what to give another except the
most highly-trained human beings?) "I
want to give her some simple little thing.
She would like that just as well as she
would a costly present."
Give her a timothy straw," suggests the
sarcastic hearer of this economical desire.
"You are over head and cars under obliga
tions to Grace, but- she is usedToyour sav
ingmoney on her. Some simple little thing
like a broken tea-cup or a bottle of mucilagu
would be appropriate. The symbol js what
you are after. 'Stick to us, Grace, or,
-We are all broke up if you leave. There
is nothing like the simple little plan when
you are giving to people whom yorat
never repay anyhow." -
Yet it ia better to give with mean grasp
of aa opportunity, with bad grace and
worse perception, than never to give at all.
.CUaTWEM. UATHEBOOD.
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