' ' v % J - BY ROBERT LOUIS 5TEVEN50N.
B | INTERNATIONA : . PRESS ASSOCIATION.
CHAPTER II. ( Coxtinvkii ) ]
The sound of his feet upon the cause ,
way began the business of the day ; for
the villairc was still sound asleep. The
rlu'rch tower looked very airy in the
sunlight : a few birds that turned about
it seemed to swim in an atmosphere of
more than usual rarity ; and the Doc
tor , walking in long transparent
shadows , filled his lungs amply , and
.proclaimed nimself well contented with
the morning.
I On one of the posts before Tentail-
Ion's carriage entry he espied a little
dark figure perched in a meditative
attitude and immediately recognized
Jean-Marie.
"Aha ! " he said , stopping before him
humorously , with a hand on either
knee. "So we rise early in the morn
ing do we ? It appears to me that we
.have all the vices of a philosopher. "
The boy got to his feet and made a
grave salutation.
"And how is our patient ? " asked
fK Desprez.
> M It appeared the patient was about the
R sa me.
f "And why do you rise early in the
r morning ? " he pursued.
L Jean-Mari ? , after a long silence , pro-
I fessed that he hardly knew.
jL "You hardly know ? " repeated Des-
| jr prez. "We hardly know anything , my
a man , until we try to learn. Interro-
I gate your conscience. Come , push me
& this inquiry home. Do you like it ? "
"Yes , " said the boy , slowly ; "yes , I
V like it. "
\ "And why do you like it ? " continued
S the Doctor. " ( We are now pursuing the
| jk Socratic method. ) Why do you like it ? "
K "It is quiet , " answered Jean-Marie ;
§ 'and 1 have nothing to do ; and then I
El feel as if 1 were good. "
W Doctor Desprez took a seat on the
p. post at the opposite side. He was be-
W ginning to take an interest in the talk ,
W for the boy plainly thought before he
f spoke , and tried to answer truly. "It
T appears you have a taste for feeling
\ good , " said the Doctor. "Now , there
f yen puzzle me extremely ; for 1 thought
V , you said you were a thief ; and the two
t are incompatible. "
"V , "Is it very bad to steal ? " asked Jean-
* Marie.
| "Such is the general opinion , little
1 "boy , " replied the Doctor.
' \ "No ; but I mean as I stole , " ex-
_ rj | claimed the other. "For I had no
'jX ? - choice. I think it is surely right to
* have bread ; it must be right to have
* bread , there comes so plain a want of
' it. And then they beat me cruelly if I
$ returned with nothing , " he added. "I
% was not ignorant of right and wrong ;
* 4f ' for before that I had been well taught
by a priest , who was very kind to me. "
K ( The Doctor made a horrible grimace
* at the word "priest. " ) "But it seemed
Bt to me , when one had nothing to eat
Sf and was beaten , it was a different af-
f fair. I would not have stolen for tart-
I lets , I believe ; but any one would steal |
for baker's bread. " I
"And so I suppose , " said the Doctor ,
j with a rising sneer , "you prajed God to
! ? forgive you , and explained the case
to Him at length. "
"Why , sir ? " asked Jean-Marie. "I
< io not see. "
"Your priest would see , however , "
retorted Desprez.
"Would he ? " asked the boy , troubled
| for the first time , "I should have
thought God would have known. " ,
I . "Eh ? " snarled the Doctor.
; "I should have thought God would j
\ lisve understood me , " replied the '
\ other. "You do not , I see : but then it
-was God that made me think so , was
P it not ? "
"Little boy , little boy , " said Doctor
Desprez. "I told you already you had
t the vices of philosophy ; if you display
the virtues also , I must go. I am a
j ! student of the blessed laws of health ,
Jj | an observer of plain and temperate nature -
[ ture in her common walks ; and I can-
Ejjf not preserve my equanimity in pres-
| P ence of a monster. Do you under-
ft .stand ? "
L "No , sir , " said the boy.
jjsp "I will make my meaning clear to
ffjf you , " replied the Doctor. "Look here
HI at the sky behind the belfry first ,
llj where it is so light , and then up and
K | up ; turning your chin back , right to
Ik- the top of the dome , where it is al-
451 ready as blue as at noon. Is not that
a beautiful color ? Does it not please
Ma
IF the heart ? We have seen it all our
mk lives , until it has grown in with our
HI familiar thoughts. Now , " changing his
Bj > tone , "suppose that sky to become sud- ' 1
i dtnly of a live and fiery amber , like the ! \
of clear coals , and
color growing scarf -
f let toward the top I do not say it
would be any the less beautiful ; but
would you like it as well ? "
; , "I suppose not , " answered Jean-
h "Neither do I like you. " returned the ! I j
Doctor , roughly. "I hate all odd pen |
ile , arid you are the most curious little i
fc boy in all the world. " I I
\ jean-Marie seemed to ponder for
f a while , and then he raised his head
again and looked over at the Doctor
! with an air of candid inquiry. "But
- . 3 not you a very curious gentler -
r Mi ? " he asked.
v * he Doctor threw away bis stick ,
f rjour.ded on the boy. clasped him to
' Ms bosom , and kissed him on both
cneeks.
"Admirable , admirable imp ! " he
cried. "What a morning , what an hour
for a theorist of forty-two ! No. " he
continued , apostrophizing heaven. "I
' < \ld not know that such boys existed ; I
! " " " "
i i niii i ininiiiiiiin row 'A ' '
! was ignorant they made them so ; I
j I had doubted of my race ; and now ! if
is like , " lie added , picking up his stick ,
"like a lovers' meeting. I have
bruised my favorite staff in that mo
ment of enthusiasm. The injury , how
ever , is not grave. " He caught the
boy looking at him in obvious wonder ,
embarrassment , and alarm. "Hello ! "
said he. "why do you look at me like
that ? Egad , I believe the boy de
spises me. Do you despise me , boy ? "
" 0 , no , " replied Jean-Marie , serious
ly : "only I do not understand. "
"You must excuse me , sir. " returned
the Doctor , with gravity ; "I am still so
ioung. 0 , hang him ! " he added to
himself. And he took his seat again
and observed the boy sardonically.
"He has spoiled the quiet of my morn
ing , " thought he. " 1 shall be nervous
all day , and have a febricule when I
digest. Let me compose myself. " And
so he dismissed his preoccupations by
an effort of the will which he had long
practiced , and let his soul roam abroad
in the contemplation of the morning.
He inhaled the air , tasting it critically
as a connoisseur tastes a vintage , and
prolonging the expiration with hy
gienic gusto. He counted the little
flecks of cloud along the sky. He fol
lowed the movements of the birds
round the church tower making long
sweeps , hanging poised , or turning airy
somersaults in fancy , and beating the
wind with imaginary pinions. And in
this way he regained peace of mind and
animal composure , conscious of his
limbs , conscious of the s " ght of his
eyes , conscious that the air had a cool
taste , like a fruit , at the top of his
throat , and at last , in complete ab
straction , he began to sing. The Doc
tor had but one air "Malbrouck s'en
va-t-en guerre ; " even with that he was
on terms of mere politeness ; and hi ?
musical exploits were always reserved
for moments when he was alone and
entirely happy.
He was recalled to earth rudely by a
pained expression on the boy's face.
"What do you think of my singing ? "
he inquired , stopping in the middle of
a note ; and then , after he had waited
some little while and received no an
swer , "What do you think of my sing
ing ? " he repeated , inperiously.
"I do not like it , " faltered Jean-
Marie.
"Oil. come ! " cried the Doctor. "Pos
sibly you are a performer yourself ? "
"I sing better than that , " replied the
boy.
boy.The
The Doctor eyed him for some
seconds in stupefaction. He was aware
that he was angry , and blushed for
himself in consequence , which made
him angrier. "If this is how you ad
dress your master ! " he said at last ,
with a shrug and a flourish of his
arms.
"I do not speak to him at all , " re
turned the boy. "I do not like him. "
"Then you like me ? " snapped Doctor
Desprez. with unusual eagerness.
"I do not know , " answered Jean-
Marie.
The Doctor . "I
rose. shall wish you
a good-morning , " he said. "You are
too much for me. Perhaps you have
blood in year veins , perhaps celestial
ichor , or , perhaps you circulate noth
ing more gross than respirable air ;
but of one thing I am inexpugnably
assured : that you are no human
being. No , boy" shaking his stick at
him "you a.e not a human being.
Write , write it in your memory 'I
am not a human being I have no pre
tension to be a human being I am a
dive , a dream , an angel , an acrostic ,
an illusion what you please , but not
a human being. ' And so accept my
humble salutations and farewell ! "
And with that the Doctor made off
along the street in some emotion ; and
the. boy stood , mentally gaping , where
he left him.
CHAPTER III.
fjZ ? s&t ADAME DESPREZ
/ / rWfMw'ho answered to
( CnI/aw//\\\ / \ \ \ the Christian name
j ! i of Anastasie. pre-
Jt sented an agreeable
/K * ? ? # -
S5VSx ! ) tvPe of her sex ; ex-
f'S T ceedingly whole-
p [ TvYJ some to look upon ,
& $ \ ' 'Srf a stout brune. with
rf
Ni fi * dr cool.smooth cheeks ,
gP * steady , dark eyes ,
anc : hands that
neither art nor nature could improve.
She was the sort of person over whom
adversity passes like a summer cloud ;
she might , in the worst of conjunc
tures , knit her brows into one vertical
furrow for a moment , but the next it
would be gone. She had much of the
placidity of a contented nun : with lit
tle of her piety , however : for Anas-
tasie was of a very mundane nature ,
fond of oysters and old wine , and
somewhat buld pleasantries , and de
voted to her husband for her own sake
rather than for his. She was imperturbably -
turbably good-natured , but had no idea
of self-sacrifice. To live in that pleas
ant old house , with a green garden be
hind and bright flowers about the win
dow , to eat and drink of the best , to
gossip with a neighbor for a quarter
of an hour , never to wear stays or a
dress except when she went to Fon-
tainebleau shopping , to be kept in a
continual supply of racy novels. ? nd
to be married to Doctor Desprez and
have no ground of jealousy , filled the
cup of her nature to the brim. Those
who had known the Doctor in bachelor
days , when he had aired quite as many
theories , but of a different order , at
tributed his present philosophy to the
study of Anastasie. It was her brute
enjoyment that he rationalized and per
haps vainly imitated.
Madame Desprez was an artist in the
kitchen , and made coffee to a nicety.
She had a knack of tidiness , with which
he had infected the Doctor ; every-
ming was s .n its place ; everything
capable of polish shone gloriously ; and
dust wus a thing banished from her
empire. Aline , their single servant ,
had no other business in the world butte
to scour and burnish. So Dacor Des
prez lived in his house like a fatted calf ,
warmed and cosseted to his heart's
of tent.
The midday meal was excellent.
There was a ripe melon , a fish from the
river in a memorable Bearnaise sauce ,
a fat fowl in a fricassee , and a dish of
asparagus , followed by some fruit. The
Doctor drank half a bottle plus one
glass , the wife half a bottle minus
the same quantity , which was a marital
privilege , of an excellent Cote-Rotie ,
seven years old. Then the coffee was
brought , and a flask of Chartreuse for
madame , for the Doctor despised and
distrusted such decoctions ; and then
Aline left the wedded pair to the pleas-
uies of memory and digestion.
"It is a very fortunate circumstance ,
my cherisheJ one , " observed the Doc
tor "this coffee is adorable a very
fortunate circumstance upon the whole
Anastasie , I beseech you , go without
that poison for to-day ; only one day ,
and you will feel the benefit , I pledge
my reputation. "
"What is this fortunate circumstance ,
my friend ? " inquired Anastasie , not
heeding his protest , which was of daily
recurrence.
"That we have no children , my
beautiful , " replied the Dorter. "I
think of it more and more as the years
go on , and with more and more grati
tude toward the Power that dispenses
such afflictions. Your health , my dar
ling , my studious quiet , our little kitch
en delicacies , how they would all hae
suffered , how they would all have been
sacrificed ! And for what ? Children
are the last word of human imperfec
tion. Health flees before the.r face.
They cry , my dear ; they put vexatious
questions ; the § demand to be fed , to
be washed , to be educated , lo have
their noses blown ; and then , when the
time comes , they break our hearts , as
I break this piece of sugar. A pair of
professed egoists , like you and me ,
should avoid offspring , like an infidel
ity. "
"Indeed ! " said she ; and she laughed.
"Now , that is like you to take credit
for the thing yon could not help. "
"My dear , " returned the Doctor ,
solemnly , "we might have adopted. "
"Never ! " cried madame. "Never ,
Doctor , with my consent. If the child
were my own flesh and blosd , I would
not say no. But to take another per
son ' s indiscretion on my shoulders , my
dear friend , I have too much sense. "
"Precisely , " replied the Doctor. "We
both had. And I am all the better
pleased with our wisdom , because be
cause " He looked at her sharply.
"Because what ? " she asked , with s
faint premonition of danger.
"Because I have found the right per
son , " said the Doctor firmly , "and shall
adopt him this afternoon. "
Anastasie looked at him out of a
mist. "You have lost your reason , " she
said ; and there was a clang in her
voice that seemed to threaten trouble.
"Not so , my dear , " he replied ; "I re
tain its complete-exercise. - To the
proof ; instead of attempting to cloak
my inconsistency , I have , by way o
preparing you , thrown it into strong
relief. Ycu will there , I think , recog
nize the philosopher who has the ec-
stacy to call you wife. The fact is , I
have been reckoning all this while
without an accident. I never thought
to find a son of my own. Now , last
night , I found one. Do not unneces
sarily alarm -ourself , my dear ; he is
not a drop of blood to me that I know.
It is his mini , darling , his mind that
calls me fathe" . "
"His mind ! " she repeated , with a
twitter between scorn and hysterics.
"His mind , indeed ! Henri is this an
idiotic pleasantry , or are you mad ? His
mind ! And what of my mind ? "
• to -nvrrvi-E'i i
t
A Good System.
The young postmaster of a village
was hard at work in his office when a
gentle tap was heard upon the door
and in stepped a blushing maiden of 1G ,
with a money order which she wished
cashed. She handed it , with a bash
ful smile , to the official , who , after
closely examining it , gave her the
money it called for. At the same time
he asked her if she had read what was
written on the margin of the order.
"No. I have not , " she replied , "for
I cannot make it out. Will you please
read it for me ? "
The young postmaster read as fol
lows : "I send you 10s. and a dozen
kisses. "
Glancing at the bashful girl he said :
"Now , I have paid you the money and
I suppose you want the kisses ? "
"Yes. " she said , "if he has sent me
any kisses I want them , too. "
It is hardly necessary to say that the
balance of the order was promptly paid
and in a scientific manner.
On reaching home the delighted
maiden remarked to her mother :
"Mother , this postoffice system of
ours is a great thing , developing more
and more every year , and each new
feature seems to be the best. Jimmy
sent me a dozen kisses along with the
money order , and the postmaster gave
me twenty. > t beats the special de
livery system f.ll hollow. " Tid-Bits.
Mrs. Gadabout. What was the news
at the sewing circle today , my dear ? "
Mrs. Onthego : "Mrs. Buddins has a
new cook , and Mrs. Remnant has the
same one she got two days ago. "
Philadelphia North American.
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
"HEALTH OF THE BODY" LAST
SUNDAY'S SUBJECT.
from the T-i.1 : "Till n IJart Strlkv
Tliroiisli Ills I.lwr" Vt < > \ rr ! > - VII-SS
Tli Gokprl or 1'iirlty in i : < ijami !
In Soul.
J
( yVt \ \ rfc- " *
OLOMOir'3 anato
mical and physio
logical discoveries
were so very great
that he was nearly
three thousand
years ahead of the
scientists of his
day. He , more
than one thousand
years before Christ ,
seemed to know
about the circulation of the blood ,
which Harvey discovered sixteen hun
dred and nineteen years after Christ ,
for when Solomon , in Ecclesiastes ,
describing the human body , speaks of
the pitcher at the fountain , he evi
dently means the three canals leading
from the heart that receive the blood
like pitchers. When he speaks in Ec
clesiastes of the silver cord of life , he
evidently means the spinal marrow ,
about which , in our day. Doctors Mayo
and Carpenter and Dalton and Flint
and Brown-Sequard have experiment
ed. And Solomon recorded in the
Bible , thousands of years before sci
entists discovered it , that in his time
the spinal cord relaxed in old age ,
producing the tremors of hand and
head : "Or the silver cord be loosed. "
In the text he reveals the Tact that
he had studied that largest gland of
the human system , the liver , not by the
elrctric light of the modern dissecting
room , but by the dim light of a com
paratively dark age , and yet had seen
its important functions in the God-
built castle of the human body , its se
lecting and secreting power , its curi
ous cells , its elongated branching
tubes , a Divine workmanship in cen
tral and right and left lobe , and the
hepatic artery through which flow the
crimson tides. Oh , this vital organ is
like the eye of God in that it never
sleeps.
Solomon knew of it , and had noticed
either in vivisection or post-mortem
what awful attacks sin and dissipation
make upon it , until the fiat of Al
mighty God bids the body and soul
separate , one it commends to the
grave , and the other it sends to
judgment. A javelin of retribution ,
not glancing off or making a slight
wound , but piercing it from side to
side "till a dart strike through his
liver. " Galen and Hippocrates ascribe
to the liver the most of the world's
moral depression , and the word mel
ancholy means black bile.
I preach to you the Gospel of Health.
In taking a diagnosis of diseases of the
soul you must also take a diagnosis of
diseases of the body. As if to recog
nize this , one whole book of the New
Testament was written by a physician.
Luke was a medical doctor , and he
discourses much of the physical con
ditions , and he tells of the good Sa
maritan's medication of the wounds by
pouring in oil and wine , and recog
nizes hunger as a hindrance to hear
ing the Gospel , so that the five thou
sand were fed ; he also records the
sparse diet of the prodigal away from
home , and th * extinguished eyesight
of the beggar by the wayside , and lets
us know of the hemorrhage of the
wounds of the dying Christ and the
miraculous post-mortem resuscitation.
Any estimate of the spiritual condi
tion that does not include also the
physical condition is incomplete.
When the doorkeeper of congress
fell dead from excessive joy because
Burgoyne had surrendered at Saratoga ,
and Philip the Fifth of Spain dropped
dead at the news of his country's de
feat in battle , and Cardinal Wolsey
faded away as the result of Henry the
Eighth's anathema , it was demonstrat
ed that the body and soul are Siamese
twins , and when you thrill the one
with joy or sorrow you thrill the othi
er. We may as well recognize the tremendous -
mendous fact that there are two
mighty fortresses in the human body.
the heart and the 4iver ; the heart the
fortress of the graces , the liver the
fortress of the furies. You may have
the head filled with all intellectuali-
ties , and the ear. with all musical appreciation -
preciation , and the mouth with all elo- <
quer.ee , and the hand with all industries -
tries , and the heart with all generosities - ]
ties , and yet "a dart strike through the
liver. " ]
My friend. Rev. Dr. Joseph F. Jones ,
of Philadelphia , a translated spirit '
now , wrote a book entitled , "Man , Moral - 1
al and Physical , " in which he shows 1
how different the same things may ]
appear to different people. He says :
"After the great battle on the Mincio '
in 1S59 , between the French and the '
Sardinians on tea one side and the (
Austrians on the Didier , so disastrous to '
the latter , the defeated army retreated. (
followed by the victors. A description '
of the march of each army is given *
by two correspondents of the London J
Times , one of whom traveled with the '
successful host , the other with the de- 1
feated. The difference in views and i
statements of the same place , scenes <
and events , is remarkable. The forJ
mer are said to be marching through J
a beautiful and luxuriant country during -
ing the day. and at night encamping t
where they are supplied with an abundance - ?
dance of the best provisions , and all t
sorts of rural dainties. There is nothI
ing of war about the proceeding except
its stimulus and excitement. On the
side o. the poor Austrians it is just ]
the reverse. In his letter of the same
date , describing the same places and i
a march over the. same road , the writer - (
er can scarcely find words to set forth i
the suffering , impatience and disgust <
| existing around him. What was pleasant -
, ant to the former was intolerable to
the latter. What made all this differ
ence ? asks the author. 'One condi
tion only : the French are victorious ,
the Austrians have been defeated. ' "
So , my dear brother , the road you
are traveling is the same you have
been traveling a long while , but the
difference in your physical conditions
makes it look different , and therefore
the two leportr. you have given of
yourself are as widely different as the
reports in the London Times from the
two correspondents. Edward Payson ,
sometimes so far up on the Mount that
it seemed as if the centripetal fon-c
of earth could no longer hold him.
sometimes through a physical disorder
was so far down that it seemed as if
the nether world would clutch him.
Poor William Cowper was a most ex
cellent Christian , and will be loved in
the Christian church as long as it
sings his hymns beginning "There is
a fountain filled with blood. " "Oh ,
for a closer walk with God , " "What
various hindrances we meet. " and
"God moves in a mysterious way. "
Yet was he so overcome of melan
choly , or black bile , that it was only
through the mistake of the cab driver
who took him to a wrong place , in
stead of the river bank , that he did
not commit suicide.
Spiritual condition so mightily af
fected by the physical state , what a
great opportunity this gives to the
Christian physician , for he can feel at
the same time both the pulse of the
body and the pulse of the soul , and
he can administer to both at once , and
if medicine is needed he can gh 3 that ,
and if spiritual counsel is needed he
can give that an earthly and a Di
vine prescription at the same time
and call on not only the apothecary of
earth , but the pharmacy of heaven !
Ah , that is the kind of doctor I want
at my bedside , one that cannot only
count out the right number of drops ,
but who can also pray. That is the
kind of doctor I have had in my house
when sickness or death came. I do
not want any of your profligate or athe
istic doctors around my loved ones
when the balances of life are trem
bling. A doctor who has gone through
the medical college , and in dissecting
room has traversed the wonders of the j ,
|
human mechanism , and found no God j i
in any of the labyrinths , is a fool , and j |
cannot doctor me or mine. But , oh , |
the Christian doctors ! What a comfort - ,
fort they have been in many of our i
households ! And they ought to have •
j
a warm place in our prayers as well as
praise on our tongues.
My object at this point is not only to
emoliate the criticisms of those in good ,
I
health against those in poor health ,
but to show Christian people who aie j
atrabilious what is the matter with 1
them. Do not charge against the heart i
the crimes of another portion of your j |
organism. Do not conclude that because - j
cause the path to heaven is not arbored j !
with as fine a foliage , or the banks
beautifully snowed with exquisite
chrysanthemums as once , that therefore - j
fore you are on the wrong road. The i
road will bring you out at th same j i
gate whether you walk with the stride j
of an athlete or come up on crutches , ! j
Thousands of Christians , morbid j
about their experiences , and morbid j I
about their business , and morbid about I
I
the present , and morbid about the fu
ture , need the sermon I am now J !
* * *
preaching.
Some years ago a scientific lecturer
went through the country exhibiting
on great canvas different parts of the (
human body when healthy , and the
same parts when diseased. And what ;
the world wants now is some eloquent
scientist to go through the country
showing to our young people on blazing - '
ing canvas the drunkard's liver , the '
idler's liver , the libertine's liver , the I
gambler's liver. Perhaps the spec
tacle might stop some young man be
fore he comes to the catastrophe , and
the dart strike through his liver.
My hearer , this is the first sermon '
you have heard on the Gospel of
Health , and it may be the last you will ,
ever < hear on that subject , and 1
charge ( you , in the name of God , and ,
Christ i , and usefulness , and eternal des
tiny , take better care of your health.
When some of you die , if your friends
put ] on your tombstone a truthful epi
taph i , it will read : "Here lies the vic
tim of late suppers ; " or it will be : ,
" what lobster salad '
"Behold at midnight -
night i will do for a man ; " or it will be :
"Ten cigars a day closed my earthly
existence ; " or it will be : "Thought I
could ( do at seventy what I did at
twenty , and I am here : " or it will be : I
"Here is the consequence of sitting a •
half day with wet feet ; " or it will be :
"This is where I have stacked my har
vest of wild oats ; " or , instead of words , '
the stone-cutter will chisel for an epi
taph on the tombstone two figures ,
namely , a dart and a liver.
There is a kind of sickness that is
beautiful when it comes from over
work for God , or one's country , or
one ' s own family. I have seen wounds '
that were glorious. I have seen an '
empty sleeve that was more beautiful i
than the most muscular forearm. I ,
have seen a green shade over the eye. ' !
shot out in battle , that was more beautiful - '
tiful than any two eyes that had passed i
without injury. I have seen an old
missionary worn out with the malaria
of African jungles , who looked to me
more radiant than a rubicund gym
nast. I have seen a mother after six :
weeks' watching over a family of children - '
dren down with scarlet fever , with a :
glory around her pale and wan face '
that surpassed the angelic. It all depends - '
pends on how you got your sickness ' !
and in what battle your wounds. • '
If we must get sick and worn out.
let it be in God's
service and in the i
effort to make the world good. Not i
in the service of sin. No ! No ! One •
of the most pathetic scenes that I ever !
witness , and I often see it. is that }
of men or women converted in the fif- '
ties or sixties or M-venties wanting to
be useful , but they so Honed the world
and Satan in the earlier part of their
life that they have no phvslcal energy
left for the s ervire of God. They sac
rificed nerves , muscles. Inns * , bear *
and lhor on the wren altar. Th-- I
fought en the wrong side , and now. |
when their sword i all hack .l up i > 'l |
the.r ammunition all gone. the > enli.st I
j for Emmanuel. When the high-met- I
lied cavalry horse , which that mail f
spurred into many a cavalry charge |
with champing bit and flaming eye and |
neck clothed with thunder , is worn i
out and spavined and ring-boned ami }
spring-halt , he rides up to the great |
Captain of our Salvation on the white j
horse and offers his services. With |
such persons might have been , through |
the good habits or a lifetime , erash- * f
ing their battle-ax through the helmet- f
? d iniquities , they are spending their |
days and nights In discussing the best \
way of curing their indigestion , and |
quieting their jangled nerves , and
rousing their laggard appetite , and tr > -
Ing to extract the dart from their out
raged liver. Better converted late than j
never ! Oh , yes ; for they will get to j
heaven. But they will go afoot when , j
they might have wheeled up the steed j ,
hills of the sky in Elijah's chariot. ji
There is an old hymn that we used to | i
sing in the country meeting lmus ) {
when I was a boy , and I remember u
how the old folks' voices trembled _ '
with emotion while they sang it. I } !
have forgotten all but two lines , out , ]
'
those lines are the peroration of my ,
sermon :
'Twill save us from aousand snare3
To mind religion young.
Ilun't I'at I'll I- , , Vim Are ilmicry. '
There is a good old maxim whuh 'J
runs as follows : "In time or peace pre
pare for war , " and this is as trm in
connection with the question of diet in
health as in other things. Too m.tny
people assume that because they enjoy
lairly good health , no improvement
need be effected in their di"t , but that
this position is eminently untenable
none who carefully consider the subject - )
ject will deny. Those whose praitiee
brings them into contact with the
wealthier classes have frequently .in
opportunity of estimating the bad "f-
ects of improper diet. As regards : he i
poor , they are unable lo procure meat
on account of their poverty , and. as a
result , their diet is composed largely of
carbohydrates. In the case or genei.il
sickness , or even without unfavorable
climatic conditions , botli classes h . ( m
to be unable to resist attacks oi dis
ease. It is for the most part the ap
parently healthy people who aieo
quickly stricken down by disease , while
the chronic invalid may pass through
unscathed , and yet no one seem to un-
derstand that conditions were present
which predisposed the healthy man < t
woman to disease , and that these pr -
existing conditions were largely due
to want of attention to diet. It would
be well for those who feel so sure that
they are in perfect health to consult a
doctor for instructions how to avoul
disease. One very common mistake is
to eat when not hungry , simply ue-
cause it is "meal time. " and ad not
one whit less stupid than that of re-
plenishing one's fire because one bears
one ' s neighbors coal-scuttle rattling. '
regardless of the fact that there is
plenty of coal already on. and that any
addition thereto would be mischievous.
One < jiiisif Tn-ak IJIIN.
Senator Forney , of the Kansas state
senate , has a young daughter who tells
why her father introduced so many
freak bills in the senate. "Whenever
he ran up against anything he didn't
like , ' she says , "he would come home
and write a bill again it. There is una
of his railroad bills , for instance \ \ - e
drove to town to church one nighr. ind
there was a freight train on the cross
ing , and it kept us there for twenry
minutes. It annoyed pa dreadfully and
he went home and wrote that bill to
prohibit trains from obstruetinz < ro-s-
ingc more than five minutes. Thf n one
night somebody stole all our rhi' kens.
The next day pa wrote his chicken bill.
But you will notice that the bill lUi i-n't
protect ducks. Pa don't like dirks.
And he said if anybody wanted toreal
them it was all right the duck.vai
punishment enough. Whenever pa sjt
down to write a bill we always ! : nw
that something had happened to him. "
Oricin of the Vt'oril TjjrilT.
Every day when we open me news
papers and read the political cii.fus -
sions in its columns , we are sur.to
come < across something about the tanir ,
says "Harper ' s Round Table. " Ev'ry
one knows the meaning of the v.onl
tariff ; but it is not generally known ,
where it originated. It is of Moorsii
origin , and descended to us Irom * he
time when the Moors oceupir-a a gjo.l.y
part of Spain. In those days tney i > , jjt
a : fort to guard the strait of Gibraltar ,
and they called it Tanfa. It was - .v
custom of these people to levy rir.-s
according to a fixed bcale. which • . < • , -
adopted and changed from time to ? : rne.
even ! as much as we do our own 'antr
laws , on thp merchandise cf all • . - . , -
sels passing in and out of tee MeiV' - -
ranean. . They claimed the right &v vi--
tue of strength , and for yeard net. - . ' : a
rich income.
.Jtm-uile llor ctlmv Iarri < - < I.
Ervm Shaw and Gertie Fisher. ? a' ] .
sentenced to one year m the pent-n-
tiary for joint horse theft , were we > l ! -.i
in the jail parlors at Wilmington , Ohio.
Gertie ' s mother , of Dayton , gave iier * < l
consent. Gertie is a beautiful little gri : i
and her husband a handsome beardE3 ! *
boy. I
Very Strange. I
Mrs. Gray Isn't it lovely ! How |
much did you pay for it ? Mrs. Gr en !
Two and a half a yard. Mrs. Gray
What an odd price ! You are sure it
wasn't ? 2.4S or 52.51 ? Boston T Jta- f
script.
