moomsQNQ.

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I'm hMtoning from the distant hills Wittswilt and noisy flowing,

Nnr»ed"by a thousand tiny rillu, i?m ever onward going.

The willows cannot stay my ttjnrse, . With all their pliant woomgjif I sing and sfrig till I am hoarse,

My prattling way pursuing.

I kiss the pebbles as I pass, And hear them say tneylove-me,

I make obeisance to the grass That-kindly bends above me.

80 onward-throngh the meads and dells I hasten, never knowing

The secret motive that impels, Or whither I am going.

A. little child comes often here To watch my quaint commotion,

As I go tumbling, swift and clear, Down to the distant ocean;

And as he plays upon my brink, So thoughtless and so merry,

60 foil of noisy Bong, I think Tfie child is like me, very.

Itaragh all the years of youthful play, With ne'er a thought of sorrow,

We, prattling, speed upon our way, Unmindful of the morrow;

Aye, through these sunny meads and dells We gambol, never knowing

ihe solemn motive that impels, . Or whither we are going.

And men come here to say to me: "Like yon, with weird commotion,

Oh little singing brooklet, we Are hastening to an ocean;

Down to a vast and misty deep. With fleeting tears and laughter,

We go, nor ffst until we sleep In that profound Hereafter.

What tides may bear oursouls along, What monsters rise appalling,

What distant shores may hear our song And answer to Our calling.

Anjwho can say ! through meads and dells Wewander, never knowing

The awful motive that impels, Or whither we are going !" —Euqene Field in Spirit of the Times.

ZSText M y H e a r t .

'16?

l*H:"'' '-

It.was a hot afternoon in Jnly, city and country were alike baking and broil­ing beneath the direct rays of a blazing son. But in the small cottage of the Hazledeans, on the Hudson, all was coolness, greenery and shade. "Vases of flowers stood in the open windows, blos­soming vines wreathed over the veran-da's, and the. interior, with its moss-colored carpets, its - white curtains, and light chairs and sofas of bamboo and cane, was a sight most refreshing to eyes that had been wearied all day long with the dust of travel or the blinding glare of city blocks and streets.

At her dressing-table in a front upper room, sat Lizzie Hazledean, the mistress of the pretty cottage and wife of the "rising young lawyer" of Spruce street.

"Young lawyer" he was called by his friends of the same age, and by the newspaper reporters who had occasion to speak of him. Yet he was two and forty years of age, and success had but just begun to grow acquainted with his name. -

And Lizzie—bright, gypsyish, .dark-eyed Lizzie—who had been a beauty and a belle in her young days—in her ,- - , . young days !—alas! she began to ownto -j ^ ^ J i 0 ^ " 1 6 _?la?°'i herself (long after other womeii ira3 said it of her, mind you), that ahewas grow­ing old. The young days-^were left be­hind forever, and Lassie, though she still kept her bright/Cheeks, and spark­ling eyes, and J*gifo step, l i z z i e was forty years of a g r o n this very day we first behold hejv

She sat at>ner glass, half-hiding her face behindj her clasped hands. She had no l o ^ p r a desire to look at that too faithfujM^rpr. Only this afternoon it hadJ^vealecTa most HO welcome truth to h<ST There on each side of her rounded eniples, she had discovered a narrow

' path of, white among the jetty tresses of which,she had so long been proud. -A gray hair here and there had not mat­tered heretofore. She had pulled them out half seriously, half laughingly, when­ever she had happened to see them. Bat now, not "ten," but a hundred—nay, a thousand seemed to "come to their fu­neral." In a year or so, at this rate, the whole, soft glossy mass would have lost its brilliant black—another year, at most, and then she would be craite an' old wo­man, with hair as white as her own grandmother's had been!

Sne—Lizzie Hazledean — an "old ladj ," a gray—no, a white-haired wo­man!

Could it be possible ! Her heart was young as ever ! When she played with little Lizzie on the lawn, at ball, or bat-tledoor, and shuttlecock, it was hard to say which most enjoyed the game, she, or the child of five years. She eoulri walk as far and as fast as in her girlhood. She could oversee her household affairs as well as ever. But the white hair was there before her, ever repeating' its ter­rible lesson—"Growing old, growing old!"

I t was nearly tea-time. She could hear little Lizzie talking on the lawn, to her pet kitten and her doll about the "time for papa to come, and what would papa bring them when be came." Down-stairs in the kitchen, and in the dining-room, below her chamber, she heard the ring and tinkle of glass, and silver, and china, and knew that the ser­vant was doing her best to have every­thing in order before the master arrived.

Yet she "sat still before her mirror, wiping away a tear now and then, and choking back a sob. Of what use were all the arts of the toilet now ? Hot/ long would Walter love her after she was old and gray ? • Suddenly there was a wild cry of de­

light from the lawn, and Bridget began tofl? to and fro in her dominions more swiftly than ever.

Had Walter come ? It was fully half an hour before his usual time.

Lizzie sprang to the window, screened herself from observation behind the our-tain, and peeped out.

Tes, there was her husband tossing his child in the air, looking cool and hand­some in his white linen suit and dark blue tie, while little Lizzie was like a fairy in Tier white muslin dress and rose-colored ribbons, and the band of. roses that'fastened back her long, dark curia.

Bu i who was*' that beside them, emil-ins; a t t h e excited- child, and talking to Walter in such low, sweet tones ?

A tall, "elegant woman, slender, up­right!'and graceful, clad in the perfec­tion o f a Parisian walking toilet, with a fluSV cloud of golden hair shadowing her Iow^ white forehead, beneath the bonnetof lace and tul l4

Mr?:_ Hazledean gazed at the unwel­come visitor in astonishment 'and horror, asTshe recognize t her"atrjast.

Mildred'Pbntifex. of alt women in the world! Mildred jPontife^Tthe blonde beauty of I B h M ^ h l f t j . t h ^ H s s ^ heir­ess, who,. a t s l ^ i C Burner "hao! ones fWfPessf.' V r a ® | @ # i , i i l i : m g f t l^ hooa,?3i«ravM^S&'SeiSelI;4igd her; ' h n n d r e d s o t t l Q l ^ ^ s ofcdplis&r «* fifef

""" e r cm '

OhjihSH* _ _ jus taTtout tore^ve^iBsewndsuinmer j j ^ t i w cleaning—the guest chamber with ite ^^='^-^-^^'--^—^->^r—-^- *-carpet taken u p and, ite curtains Jtakeh down, inpreparationforihe woman who was to come on the.|npirow;t6 scrub and purify; the dol l bread and fruit for tea, accprdjing t o j & H g inipo6^aity |pr: fl^diBg ai£ efceptxioldi2eat anipa]ad,^bich there was scarcdyjIfeimeW;; prepare; her own unfimafiM'Kmet, when the kitchen and pantry demanded her presence on the instant, if the credit of her tea-table Was to be saved J her eyes still red from tears, and that hateful, hateful. stripe of gray hair , on either side of her temples, while blonde hair seldom changed its hue-—all these troubles massed themselves in one vast heap in poor Mrs. Hazledean's mind, driving her nearly distracted, as. her husband knocked at her bed-room door.

"We have an unexpected guest to tea, darling," he said in a low tone, for she had not unlocked the door. "On the Wat I met Miss Pontiles—my cousin Mildred, you know, my dear. She is> going to Hyde Park on a visit, and her luggage is there by this time. But I persuaded her to stop a few hours with us and take tea, and afterward you and I will see her to Hyde Park by the nine o'clock train, if you like, love."

Mrs. Hazledean listened to this agree-ablo programme in silence, commanding herself at its end sufficiently to say:

"Very well, Walter. I am not quite dressed.. Yon must entertain your cousin till tea is ready, - and after tea we will consult together about your plan."

"All right, love. Don't be long," re­plied her husband gaily, as he went down stairs.

Mrs. Hazledean gave herself no further time for thought. Dashing'down into the kitchen by the back stairs she con­cocted a salad as speedily as possible, cut thin slices of cold meat, and thicker slices of fruit and sponge cake, sent the girl flying into the darkest recesses of the store-room for choice preserves, and with a last order or two to the bewil­dered girl hurried back to her toilet.

The waving, ourling tresses were speedily brushed and fastened up in a mass at the back of her head—a white muslin dress, dotted with points, and trimmed with pink - ribbons under lace, was quickly assumed; and after bathing her eyes in rose-water till the traces of tears were entirely washed away, the little wife tripped into the cool parlor to welcome her unwelcome guest-

"Afew moments afterward they were seated around the tea-table, and in the duties that devolved upon her there, Lizzie had ample excuse for silence.

But her husband and his guest con­versed constantly, their talk going back to the days of old, of which she knew nothing, to persons and places unknown to her, but familiar to their earlier lives as household words.

She felt shut out from their very ex­istence, and sat in her place, growing paler and paler with every word that was exchanged between the two.

Once or twice she saw her husband looking at her, with an overcast and troubled face.

Then he would turn once more to the beautiful guest, and his eyes and smile would brighten again; his voice would take a livelier and gayer tone. She could not blame Mm; and yet i i out her to tiie very heart.

Tea, over at last, and they adjourned to Me parlor, Unbidden, Mildred sat

She touched the keys with a masterly skill, and let her rich full soprano voice float out upon the evening air, in operatic love songs, can­zonets, ballads and old familiar melodies known only to our eager days of youth.

WalteiMeaned over the piano like one entranced. Mildred would say: "Do you remember this?" "Have you for­gotten that?" and then would come an­other old-time song, to which the lawyer seemed to listen with all his heart and soul.

"Hark! what was that?" said he, at length starting . from the piano to listen.

"The whistle of the last city train, 1 fear," said Mildred, glancing at the toy watch at her girdle. "My train will be here in a very few minutes. What a happy, happy evening this has been, and what a dear little home you have here, Cousin Walter. And a dear little wife, too, if she will allow me to say so in her presence," added the siren, ap­proaching the corner where poor Lizzie had sat alone, believing herself quite neglected and forgotten.

Lizzie rose and received the compli­ment, and made her adieu with rather a ghastly smile.

No, she would not go with them in the train to Hyde Park; if she would excuse her, She had a bad headache— it had been coming on all day—and she would be best in bed.

So the siren parted from Mrs. Hazle­dean with a well expressed regret and a light perfumery kiss, and Walter went with her to the station and thence to Hyde Park, where he was to place her safely in the care of expectant friends.

Nearly an hour passed before he lifted the latch of his garden gate again.

Glancing up at Lizzie's bedroom win­dow he saw that it was dark.

"Poor child! I hope she is sound asleep by this time," he said, as he halted in the porch to light his last cigar.

"No—I am not asleep," said a voice out of the darkness, so close to him that it made him start.

"Lizzie, my darling, is this you? Why are you not in bed, my dear ?"

"I could not go ." "Bat your head will be worse for sit­

ting np like this. I am sure you must have suffered agonies all through this evening, my love. When I saw you turn so pale- at the tea table I could have gone and knocked my own head against the wall."

"But why*?" asked Lizzie, surprised at his tone.

"For being such a stupid brute as to bring home company without knowing whether you were ill or well," was the reply. "But yog. see, my darling, I met her unexpeotedly_on the boat, and what, could I do ? To tell the plain truth, my dear, she invited herself here to tea, but of course I couldn't explain that to you at the bedroom door, while she was standing in the hall below. And all through the evening I was looking and longing for the whistle of that city train. I knew you must be suffering tortures yon were, so pale and still, and I enter­tained her, in your place, to the best of my ability; but, by' George! ft. was hard work; Poor Mildred, she used to be_a nice, pretty,;slmple-hearted," jpnio-cent little girl, and I loved her as a.sis­ter in our young'1 days ' "Bit now,"be­tween her Parisian dress and Parisian affectations, her paint and powder, and patches and. false hair, she does" not seem like the same person to me at «U. In fact, little wife, you are the best com­pany I jean have u t this world, and I iometimes think I.dori't care if I nejeer. h a w i ^ o & e r i f l t t X a i e . : ' How i s Me •^^•%f^~M^t^>w^' 3ieaia;ifr"on'&2£

i o ^ 5 j s r ^ j # V ^ ; v - ~ 0 " : '• .•'-'• Hejdrew her nearetandpressed his

;she*ma^%mainj Cyea? ;agQ, ;ahey$l she Jatfffl^that she can cheat eyefySne mtg beJeyingLher young again by | f e , artsotfjerfoliet." J'.'•„., %,

"P^it^riBwder—false B1&|" n # r mured tozm, wonderingiy," ^ P a l K r , are yon«nre? ' * ' jrr?

"Why, whore ate yoa* eyefthat you could not see them?" said he, laughing. "But I.torget that yOti have not'known Mildred front her earliest years, as I hav& To me the change is plain enough. Thank heaven! you will never so-degrade yourself, my dear.".

"Then-ryou don't object to—you don't dislike gray hair, Walter?" asked Lizzie, anxiously. - ^

"What a question. Wail' fill your hair turns white, my love, and yon will see that i t is as dear to me as when it is as black as now."

"But, oh, it is white already," said poor Lizzie, almost hysterically. - "And she was so beautiful and graceful" and accomplished—so perfectly dressed, too —and she sang so beautifully, and'you listened, Walter, and you talked to her, and I was only a poor, pale, silent crea­ture, and, oh, dear, only look at this."

She lifted the dark tresses aside, showed him the gray locks upon her temples, and burst into tears. It was gust one of those utterly absurd, hyster­ical, nonsensical outbreaks that a wo­man, now and then, must give way to or die, and that a man can never check in a better or more kindly way, than Walter Hazledean did, by a silent em­brace and kiss.

Gradually the wife grew .calm. Ly­ing there upon his faithful heart, and listening to his whispered words, she said how unwarranted all her jealous suspicion and suffering had been.

"You will be triser another time, my love," said her husband, as they turned to enter the house together. "But, in case you should ever, through illness, or from • any other reason, distrust me again, let me have a talisman to carry with me that will recall to you all that we have talked about to-night."

Lifting the dark tresses aside, he took a small penknife from his pocket and severed a whitened lock.

"There, Lizzie, love, I'll wear that next my heart forever," he said, raising it to his lips.

He led her in, and the door of their home closed between them and all the folly and suffering of the outer world.

PARENTS AND CHILDREN.

Professor Adler on Parental Duty. and Filial

Experimental W6rfe«|tfce WewTbrfc Sta> \ tlon TTpoi the Sjnasli Vine Borer.

gjJChe squash* v ine borer (Melittia cu-• "**i* as-Jegsdes&nefive^thanusual

.tion^Gardenithe past summer. lfan®bef<a*

®lr appTicaiieiis.JiMfled «*—--—*-•---upon _^

our experimentsta plat of Hubbard and perfect gem squashes, of which the rows contained eight hills each.- Commending July 12, we applied to the stems of the pjantsin one rp>? of HubbaHL8qnasb.ee, water with which Paris green was mixed at the rate of half a teaspoonful to two gallons, sprinkling the mixture upon the stems "tor a distance of two feet from

-ihe=Kba8eMOf--ihe -plants.. Among ihe. plants of a second row we placed com cobs dipped in coal tar, and to a row of the-perfect gem variety we applied a weak kerosene emulsion, in ihe same manner as we applied the Paris green and water. I h e applications of the Paris green and water and the soap emulsion were repeated, after ever hard rain until September 1st. The com cobs were dipped again in the tar at intervals of about three weeks. We made no at­tempt t o remove the borers from the vines until the squashes had been gath­ered. We then carefully dissected every stem in the three rows on which the ap­plications were made, and also in three that received no applications.

On the row of Hubbard squash which received no application we found 23 borers, or cavities which they bad left; on the row that received the Paris green and water we found •eight, and on the one in which the tarred com cobs were placed we found but three. In the row of perfect gem that received the kero­sene emulsion we found two borers (or cavities) while in one row that received no application we found eight, and in a second seven. All three of the applica­tions seemed to act beneficially, espe­cially the tarred com cobs and the Paris green and water. In the case of the latter it is to be remarked that all the borers found were at a greater distance from the'base of the plants than that to which the mixture was applied.

Of the three methods used the tarred cobs were the cheapest and most con­venient. It is not to be supposed, "how­ever, that the odor of. the coal tar de­stroys the. insect; it probably only repels the moth, causing her to choose other subjects for her infection. We may as­sume, however, that the Paris green kills the young maggot as it attempts to eat its way into the stem.

Sudden Darkness in a City.

Prof. Felix Adler, in the course of a lec­ture said that the gift of children tended to moral elevation. The man who de­sired to see his children grow up better than himself would not fail to improve his own life and character, so as to set them a good example.' If a parent sought to curb the angry passions of a child, that parent would most carefully guard against any ebulition of temper, such as would set an evil example. If it was sought" to have the children avoid slander, no encouragement at the table or in the parlor would be given to those who meet only to rend their neighbor's character. Avoided would be the feasts of those moral cannibals who feed- upon the reputations of others.

The moral*nature and individuality of children, Pre feasor Adler continued, should be carefully studied and respected. They are, it is true, bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, but we are only the channels through which the river of life is transmitted to them. Some par­ents make a point of trying to mould their children into reproductions of themselves. Bat every child has a right to its own individuality. For instance, if a boy shows a talent for art it is a grave question whether it be wise for the boy's father to say: "Oh, I don't want my boy to be a painter; I mean him to be a lawyer." Or, again, a youth shows an intense passion for study," but a friend of the father has an opening in his counting house, and so the instincts of genius are sacrificed to the dollar. Thus the individuality of that-life is de­stroyed and the particalar message with which it was intrusted to deliver to the world is lost.

In conclusion the speaker dwelt upon the reverence and love due from chil­dren to their parents. As an instance of filial devotion- he cited the case of flie young fireman who lost his life at the fire in College Place, New York. As he fell from the ladder to the icebound pavement.below he was heard to exclaim, "Oh, my poor mother !" His one thought in that dreadful moment was for his mother. How many men there were whose heads were gray and the tenderest recollection in whdse career was the remembrance of the father who had guided and trained their steps in their earlier years, and the mother whose tender care had never been equalled by any one else oh earth.

Our Disappearing Forests.

The reckless improvidence with which the forests of ,this country are being de­stroyed is likely to bring its own punish­ment with it. P r o ! Sargent's report upon the present condition of cur for­ests has been published as a part of the tenth census. From this it appears the loss from forest fires alone amounts to upward of $20,000,000 annually; the railways destroy upward of 30,000,000 fine young trees every year for ties; the frame houses, which form so characteris­tic a feature of an American landscape, use up the lumber from millions of acres annually. As yet no process of repara­tion has begun. We cut dOwn, but we do not replant. The consequence J s seen in the greater frequency of droughts and fleods along our large rivers, the impaired fertility of the denuded soil and the increased oost of fuel and build­ing material. The report shows that it is quite time to turn over a new leaf. We should husband carefully what for­est we have left. It is the part of wis­dom for every owner of a-timber tract to cut understandingly and with reference to the future. A good twenty-acre tim­ber lot <?an be,made to-last for centu­ries, all the time furnishing its annual cutting of fuel for the owner.—Chicago News. 2_ '

A DOQ in Wanaqua N» J-, who for. some time has been noticed to take his breakfast'in his mouth and run away with i t uneaten, was followed, when it was discovered that he took his meal to

"a decrlp^t.'itoS.eniacfeted^oId-^dpg in a covert mtbifield^wh.o eagerly-devoured the food' thus ̂ p'royided for him.

OPESEDTr-̂ A Fair Jfcven, Xlonn., man recently found 4hat^janiejwAstry. ing to force" his blind mare across.' the Qainii-piae drawbridge at night,' she^hatt;d&-eoveredthafe the draw w a ^ p e n and pre­ferred theTa^fiing she received to "going.

Jsj&eadfeto^ngeg*;••*-,j. *s^.i- •-" -

~J$ax grain oVop^in ffiis eonhftytjh©

OONSTEBNATIOH OF PEOPLE WHO THOUGHT THE END OF THE WOBM> AT HAND.

; Many citizens of Louisville, Ky., who are superstitious, and indeed a number who are not, thought the world was about to come to an end Monday morn­ing. Bam had been falling steadily up to a quarter to nine o'clock, when it sud­denly ceased, and then there came a rat-t tling fusillade of thunder; streaks of vivid l ightning-feted feomlnedoods; the light o f day began to fade out, and-in one minute after the first clap of thunder an almost Egyptian darkness had settled upon the city. Houces a few feet away looked like mountains in a fog," and trees became spectres.

The duration of the darkness was about four minutes. During that time chickens went to roost all over the city. Many of the scenes and incidents about town were amusing. At the corner of Fourth avenue and Green street a_ Oath-olio priest fell ujSbn his knees in a street car and crossed himself^ and in a negro quarter known as "Brauntown" some of the inhabitants instituted a session of prayers. Many citizens thought the sudden darkness was the forerunner of a cyclone, and took to their cellars for safety. A.fashibnable young lady who was at the breakfast table imagined that she had become suddenly blind and was thrown into hysterics..

Scientists claim that the darkness was caused by a heavy black cloud which stretohed from the eastern and southern horizon to about ten degrees from the western and northern horizon, so black and dense as to shut off the direct rays of the sun and obstruct all reflected light. Thunder and lightning, with wind and, rain, followed the break in the clouds. -

New York Without Defences.

The memorial of the New York Pro­duce Exchange presented in the United States Senate says that the city of New York and the adjacent cities of Brooklyn and Jersey City "represent an.interest in house ownership and real estate amounting to over $3,000,000,000; that all this really' is entirely unprotected from an attack by hostile fleets which could bombard the city., and the neigh­boring populated districts without even entering the Narrows." There are now, the memorial says, no works or guns to protect the harbor in case of an outbreak of war. nor could the necessary defences be constructed in less than two years' time. "It is known abroad as well as at home," the memorialists say, "that the shores of this country are entirely un­protected, audit would be only an act of reasonable' precaution that New York, the chief city of the Nation, should be defended by such permanent forts, float­ing batteries, gunboats and torpedo ser­vice as will give us a guarantee against sudden invasion until the country shall have time to build an adequate fleet for defensive purposes. Your memorialists submit that even in the event of threat­ened complications with foreign powers, such as might arise out of the foreign treaties now under consideration of your honorable body, that the freedom from panic which such a policy of defensive fortifications would secure' would more than compensate for the required outtay. In view of the above facts your memori­alists earnestly pray your honorable body that you will: take such steps and vote such appropriations as shall be req­uisite to place the chief city of the Na­tion in wealth, population and impor­tance in a condition of safety, whatever foreign complications may arise."

A Trial.

- Patent Medicine Vender—Did you ever try my infallible preventive for coughs and colds ?

Stranger-r-No, sir, I never tried it my­self, but a friend of mine did.

P. M. V.—Yes ? and how did it work ? Stranger—Beautifully. H e took two

bottles of it just before the cold weather set in, and he.didnH have a cold or a 4)ongh the whole waiter.

P . M jr.—That?* the,way it" always works. . There's nothing like it—nothing like-ltj^snr.' .'-_> • \ „-

Stranger—sAlways works, that way, eh ? 1 m sorry to hear that.. -My^frfend, -yon know, died five minutes after finish­ing - the second botfle.—:Boston jfrgn-script. - -._ , " _ . - ' . - . '

. GOOD actions^ crowh themselves wffli "^ «ys-r :-^h&aes>r^esjweii,\BjBedB

ittofc^Siher^fiBuse,. r 1, -

SOilER THOUGHTS FOR KEEXECTION AND CONSIDERATION ON THE DAY OF REST. • _&." •

Dr. Talmaxe WantsIS»er»olHBn Eloqnenr'e Restrained by t*wt|-Seecher on a HlclS. erHle ,Ete . ?-&§ ^- "••"$* . **"

-, • ;• ' ' '*•*. A ? f ? 4 ?

''" "'-..—^~70 ?*; "*% ^'Thesfin d u a y g ^ ^ A A ^ I . l e s s , " was" the tearseleeted*T)y D>. Talmage at the Brooklyn Tabernacle Sunday morning for a sermon in which he proposed to answer this question. "Is there no law against such blasphemy as was uttered at a Brooklyn theatre Sunday night?" asked Mr. Talmage, al­luding to the lecture in the Academy of Music by Sfr. Bobert-IngersollL * - \"

The infidelity of the^ ie .nn ,y fmg t e M remarked, was considered a great"joke, and there were pebple in these.days who gathered' together to hear Christ 'assailed with quip, and joke. A leotnrer in a Brooklyn theatre, if correctly reported, had said, among other things : "When we compare our God with man He is not much of a God: When Christ was here He was forgiving and half human; but now H e is dead, he sent them to eternal fire. It is wonderful what a dif­ference office makes with some people." The Lord Jesus Christ, who came to carry our sorrows, to bear our griefs, maligned in the presence of the citizens of Brooklyn! Is there any such thing as blasphemy ? If there be, is there no law against it? These are tremendous questions which I ask of the legal fra-. ternity, the judges of our courts, and through them the Legislature of the State of New York.. There is such a thing as blasphemy. Let the law against blasphemy be erased from the statute book or let it be executed. But, says some one : "Don't j o u believe in free' speech ?" "Yes, free riding ' of horses, but not to run over people; free knives, but not knives for assassination, and free speech, but not the speech of falsehood or blasphemy. It would have been the grandest drama that Brooklyn had ever seen if on Sunday my friend Patrick Campbell, the Chief of the Po­lice, who believes in God—in'Jesus Christ—had walked on the platform, fol­lowed by a platoon of police officers, and had put his hand on the shoulder of the blasphemous.lecturer and said to him : "In the name of the common law, in the name of the State of New York, and in the name of the city of Brooklyn, this infamy must stop—must stop here and must stop now." -

I propose to take this infidelity and atheism out of the realm of joke and put it, seriously, before you. 1 want to show you what the end of this infidel's road will lead you to, and what this world would be if infidelity and atheism were to triumph over it.

It would be the complete and utter degradation of womanhood. Wherever thej Christian religion is dominant wo­man's condition has improved. While women may suffer injustice inJEngland and the United States, she has^ more of her rights in Christendom than else­where. Neverthele' 1, I read in the newspapers that at iaiis infidel's lecture there were women present to witness this wholesale bombardment of Chris­tianity. I make no remark; let the si­lence of ^our own soul make its own .ob­servation. ,

Next, if Christianity is to be over­thrown you. have a disintegration of. society. Take away the idea of retribu­tion and the majority of the infidels would soon turn the world into a-hell. The idea of a punishment in an after life makes men afraid to sin. Bat for this idea Brooklyn, New York, Boston, Charleston and Chicago would become Sodoms. The march of infidelity would destroy our Sunday schools, for Christ is taught there; would destroy our phil­anthropic institutions, for they aire founded on Christianity; would close all the picture galleries of the Continent of Europe, for the larger portion of- them portray incidents and subjects taken from the Bible; our grand oratorios, our sculpture and the headstones on the graves of childhood that said, "Asleep in Jesus."

I am asked if Christianity will become obsolete ? Yes, just as the clouds of smoke from the chimneys will shut oul the noonday sun. Great Britain will turn all Europe to God, and the United Stales will turn all America to God, and both of them together will bring the whole earth in subjection to him. "The mouth of the Lord has said it. Halle­lujah ! Amen!" . . _

ME. BEEOHEB ON A HIGHER -LIFE.

"Men of an ordinary morality are irrigated by mechanical appliances, as it were," said-Mr. Beecher at Plymouth Church, "while Christian men are re­freshed by the rain dropping down from lieaven. They live in an atmosphere and with an inspiration of feeling that does not belong to those that are not Christians.

"The full Christian lives in a higher realm than other men. He lives where the best part of his life is unseen. It is the realm of imagination, of affection, of divine inspiration, a realm where the inshining of God's nature raises a thou­sand beautiful images which cannot be told of.

"Men say in regard to these higher fanciful experiences, as they call them, that they are dreams. I am sorry for the man to whom they have never come..

"Men are so bonnd up in the practi­cality of the lower life that- they don't believe in the higher life. It is poetic, they say—as if poetry itself was not the higher form of truth, or might be.

"Every deep soul has within itself a threshold over which no foot may tread, and the most sacred feelings are those that are never exhibited, not even to the choicest and dearest. Are there no such cavernous crystalline haunts within yon ?"

PBACTIOAIi CHRISTIANITY. Charity has very properly from the

<ery beginning been regarded as the principal adornment of Christianity. Certain it is that in these agnostic times none of its outcomes put it EO much in harmony with the character of its Di­vine Founder. In our great cities this feature of Christian social life is, as is natural enough, most strongly marked. The total income for the London chari­ties for 1884, was about £4,800,000. Of this sum about £2,000,000 were con­tributed to church and"chapel building funds, missionary, tract, Bible and book societies. Commenting upon this amount,, the London Times speaks of it as being more than, twice the revenue of the Swiss Confederation, greater than that of Sweden and-Denmark, and nearly as

= much as Portugal, Belgium and the Netherlands. "

chaarefr^mv^dslanlr,,. _ ^ _ . ^ . ^ w . ineiHsnSttog-'"wprS:"and womenwith nursing chUdren are hot mduded^amjnr

rdered toke'ep thefast. AOTUBAIN

Church of origin irom the

ini i ofpopnlal

denoieshave been held very check, but in the more rural districts, and especaafly in "flie northern "counties, the Church has looked with ;a seyereeye on what to many are innocent amuse­ments. Dancing, i t would seem, has become more common of late years in the North, and the Presbytery of Aber-deen. ,bv 23 votes~tQ J.2.-aDrjroved,theiei. port of its "Committee^n Religion Morals," condemning "dancing and simi­lar evils." .

NO MONEY IN BASE BALL.

!THB LENTEN FAST.

The annual'drenlar giving rules for the observance, of Lent in the Boman Catholic- diocese of New York has been received byiHthe priests -of the various .parishes from Cardinal McCloskey, and. given by them to their congregations. Bnt one full "meal and a light evening repast are'aUowea daily, except on Sun-daysf^BiiafeS8ffilnst>^AsB^-li?eaiieE-

Isxu-avaennt Salaries for Players Said to Consume Most of the Receipts.

"There is no money in, base ball now­adays," said J. E. AUen^ one of the di­rectors of the Providence Club, at the recent base ball meeting in New York city. "The time .was when a man who put his money into a club was quite sure of coming out more "or less ahead, "but that is past When the National League had control of all the best play­ers, in the country a few years ago, and had no opposition salaries were low, and a player who received $1,500 for his sea­son's work did well In 1881', when the American Association was -organized in opposition to the League, the players' salaries at.once began to go up, as each side tried to outbid the other. When the two organizations formed what is known as the^National- agreement, the clubs retained their players at the same salaries: . • "Several other associations were then organized in different parts of the coun­try and were admitted under the pro­tection of the National agreement This served to make good ball players, espe­cially pitchers, scarce, and forced salaries up still higher, until at the present time a first-class pitcher will not look at a manager for less than $3,590 for a sea­son. Badbourne, of last year's Provi­dence Club, received the largest amount of money that has ever been paid to a' ball player. His wonderful pitching, which won the championship for the

-club, cost about §5,000, as he did the work of two pitchers and received the pay of two.

"Some of the salaries whioh base ball players will get next season are: O Rourke, Gerhart, Deasley, Eiring and Ward of the New York Club, $3,000 each. Mullane was to have played with the Cincinnati Club for $4,000. Dun-lap has a contract with the new League Club of St. Louis for $3,400. These are only a few of the higher prices paid, while the number of men-who get from $2,000 to $3,000 is large. At these prices a club with a team costing only from $15,090 to $20,000 is lucky; bnt it has not much chance of winning the championship. To this expense must be added the ground rent, the salaries of gate keepers, and the traveling ex­penses, which will be about as much more.

"As a high-priced club, the New York Club leads, while the Metropoli­tans are nearly as expensive. The in­come of these two clubs last year was nearly $130,000, yet the Metropolitans lost money, and the New York Club was only a little ahead. The first year the Metropolitans wero in the field their salary list was light, as were their trav­eling expenses, and at the end of the sea­son they were over $50,000 ahead,"

Randolph's Stormy Death.

The last days of John Baridolph,' of Boanoke, are full of pathos. He thought he was dying for years before he did so, and when he was asked how he was he would reply: "Dying! dying! dying!" He was tyrannical and dictatorial to the last, and he fought with his doctor on his death-bed over the pronunciation of certain words. His death occurred in a Philadelphia hotel. A few minutes be­fore he died the doctor wanted to leave him, but Randolph objected and his slave took the,^ey,^pcked^h^,door and put the key in his pocket. With his last words Randolph, declared that he wanted his slaves freed, and he kept ihe doctor there as a witness .of his dying declaration. A sceptic through life, h e appreciated his condition when on his death-bed,, and among his last words was "remorse." He was lying perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed, when he sud­denly roused up and screamed out in an agitated voice: "Remorse! remorse! remorse 1" He then cried out': . ' 'Let me see the word ! Get a dictionary ! Let me see the word !" There was no dic­tionary at hand, and he was told so. He exclaimed :' "Write it, then ! Let me see the word !" The doctor picked. up one of his cards labelled "Randolph, of Roanoke." "Shall t write it on this ?"

. "Yes; nothing more proper," was Ran­dolph's reply. The word remorse was written on it in pencil and handed to hint He looked, at it a moment with great intensity. ''Write it on the back," he exclaimed. It was done and handed him again. He looked- at it with his blazing eyes. " Remorse i" he said, "you can have no idea of i t whatever; it has brought me to my present situation —but I have looked to Jesus Christ and I hope to obtain pardon." He then asked the doctor to draw a line under the word and told him to keep, the card.

.A short time after this his keen eye began to dull, his powerful mind gave way, and within two hours he died.

Suicide Caused by Remorse.

A well-known and well to do resid ent of Port Byron eloped on January 25 last with the wife of his friend of that place. The man was fifty-eight years old. The woman is very handsome, and 25 years old. Shetookwithherhersia?months-old baby. On Saturday last the wo­man's husband was notified by the police of Canastato that the runaway couple were at the Watson House, in that place, and the inquiry was made of S im if he wanted them arrested* He replied, "No. They wili have^the wpst .of the bargain." ^The . sa f i e - dayjjhe" Port Bvron" citizen Kissed" the woman and her baby and vMt ont." ^Hefwtfked a mile or so ontf of "thVvffiagejj|fta enter­ing the barnftta^armer, hangedsfiimsell with a hajtej s b a p , When^|3ttnd he was dead.. *, ; . ' - . , , ' ;1 \

How1 THE*1' liavB.4%pealkiS^ about Texas^towns'a^Jocfl^Jiat^r-^|> Tyler lives on Supreme Court, Galveston on deep ?.water»r36ort ^rtftt^an^^White Elephant and aeyilmentiWaei.on hopes, of a l e d j r a l Jjmial^fegan^BtQnia on-^ e x i e a ^ ; ^ a n a ? % e i ^ m n a ^ e « o f One Hano^ed/aBd'Aust^on-the

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'X^0- - I f H AlTDrWISDO*. , ', r ^ p p S 3

^mm mart often, exercise, ot-tu^M'' *^e.%h|M6orl»Eiofc ^ ••' •. /S^ff^M " l i p B B B k a t e j a U t a t lull, * ! """""'

"%P—thitfs a& ^ ' * - f l f t | i iS would only stop" a HtBPwEf

ano^iet^lget off and rest, it w o n i a p ; lg_woTOdn'ta? -*-•

^ ^ • a s prevent a good de»l-«*/ ^^™_^ T „jeness which rough a n d j B P l ^ perious usage often produoes 10 genes* 11 ous minds. ~~~* "*j

I T is the prerogatiye of Gxnd alone jk%~ truly comprehend all things... To,hTm> there is nothing past or future. "JEwry^- ;

thing is present. ^ ^ ^J BTJKDBTTE says there is nothing. dis-~,

mailer than a rainy day in January, nn->_ less, perhaps, it may be'a hnmoipnsleo* L

his,djnner he does not feell ike takinjg such violent exercise. ~*~ i-;*

I T is supposed that the lions inta,~ir whose den Daniel was thrown were * o » . diety Hohs; for society lions, y o n knbwjf* never take notice of anybody.

I F the human intellect hath once taken a liking-to any doctrine * * *"it draws everything into harmony" jnXa that doctrine, and to its support. • "*• • •. T H E common man is the. 'riotjyor o l ^ events.'. Whatever happens i* too numb for him, he is drawn this way" •md'tiajjC" , way, and his whole life is a "hurry. *'' -S-"^

A MAH in Georgia tells of a tenrpountfi trout •which stopped a mill wheel. Either^ the whee_l must have been smaller than' ^ the trout or the lie bigger than the miU.£

"Yotr are such a strange girl, that/— really I^don't know what to make"'*)!, you." "Well, then I'll tell yon, Charlie," she replied—"make a wife-of me."

A GEBMAN scientist has counted the hairs on his wife's head, arid quotes Her at 128,000 to the inch. We don't seer bow he could tell which was switch.—-Life. - ':••

RESEARCHES into the spring of natural bodies and their motions should awaken us to admiration at the wondrous wis-"., dom Of our Creator in all the works'of nature. ' ' " '. *

"DOOTOB," said a gentleman^to life*. clergymaB, "how can I best tram*Jrd3r boy in the way he should go f ' "Bjr going that way yourself," was the nnex->'; pected reply. .

A N engraver's mistake lately caused* the bride's parents to say on the cards:. "Mr., and Mrs. respectfully re-, quest your presents at the marriage of their daughter," etc. . T H E prioe of a window view for the

inauguration is said to be from $20 to $50, with the prospect; of stUl further advance. This will cause a window pain in many pockets. J-

"EVEBX cloud- has a silver lining." Even the cloud of dust which tempor­arily closes your eyes may prevent you from feeling ill on account of catching sight of a much used creditor.

T H E very air we 'breathe becomes a" nuisance when it is worked over anc? jammed throngh a brass instrument by' a young man who is fitting himself to become a member of a brass band.

PATHEB, it is a great gift of the gods to be born with a hatred and contempt of all injustice and meanness.- Yours is ' a higher lot, never to have have lied and truckled, than to have shared honors" won by dishonor.

A N impecunious "Jprtune-hunter "had been accepted" by an heiress. At the wedding, when that portion of the cere- * mony.was reached where the brid6groomi says, "With all my worldly goods I thea* endow," a spiteful relative of the bride> exclaimed: "There goes his valise 1"

LITTIIB AMY, chided for mischief, pro--tested that Susan (the servant) .had per­suaded her. Said papa : "Tell me ex­actly what.Susan said." "She said: 'You push that stand, miss, if you dare.'" "Them's my very words," in­terjected Susan. "And," pursued the little culprit, "Ldared, so I pushed."

"I AM going to keep a diary; won't you kindly tell me how to begin i t ?"—* Lily. Well, to tell you the honest nude truth, Lil, we don't know much about this matter, but we have seen several young ladies' diaries, and they all begin: "Got up at eight o'clock;' played piano one hour; went into the kitchen, and". watched mother, cleaning the stovej went down to Mabel's; Mabel i s horrid; took a nap after dinner; am tired out; Claude called in the evening; I am so happy, oh, dear 1"

"Do THEY, miss me at home, do they miss me ?" roared the vocalist, in a fal­setto bass tremolo. Before he could" proceed further, a fellow ia the gallery remarked: "Yes, I think they do. As" I came by, the old man was snoring in his chair, the dog was fast asleep before the fire, and the old woman was telling the cat that it was the first quiet -mo­ment she'd seen for a week. Yes, sir, they miss you by a large majority/* The vocalist didn't finish his song, but-rushed .out into the silent night, his bo­som heaving with emotion. Half an-hour later, that quiet, happy home wa6 transformed into a maelstrom of misery. ' The vocalist was no longer missed a£ - . :. home. ,-'

A ViiiiiAGE MOVED.—By the recent., . Spanish earthquakes, a village in Gren-" .i,?, ada has been moved bodily some six^rjjjjf, feet in a northward direction, a d e e | g S | l r

-semi-circular crevasse appearing ion ifei.^|7 former site. The course of t h e ' l i f t l S ^ " river near which the village stood h a s ^ been blocked up, and a lake is being* formed. Many of the sulphur- springs; i . with which the region abounds son-"' ,"- ' denly 'ceased flowing, but reappeared a .'i,-day or two after in a state of unusual ~\J\\ heat, indicative, no doubt, of the charac- "'• ter of the force at work below.

=N|

H i

1

A Lucky Sneeze.

That there is a proper time and place*!-' to sneeze, and when it can "be profitably i••'•tr done, is evidenced by the conduct of j a ^ -young ensign, poor and friendless' in ;^;. the english army. He was once attend-J*"'" ing a grand ball, and stpjOd near i-itfi:~:{;;l duchess. She inadvertently uttered "Snj"" enormous sneeze—in fact, a snort^eSl?- '•':''. culated to bring upon her tberid¥eule^|r ^ the assembled guests. The y o u n g ^ ^ f ' sigu took in the situation, re-eehoe'd'gljn^*'? refrain, and, grasping his nose aa'r5$jxjj%k

throttle the sneeze, rushed' fronv'l^**; room, leaving the gueste to snpposfjtjiatp he was the jgftender. _,Tfe, n e ^ p l ^ i g V received a captain's commission from thS'' duchess's husband, with a l i n i f r o m thei madamethat "it was an ill sneeze that; did nobody any good." 3 t t 7

SETTHSD. WITH H B L — A seeret a j g ^ ^ i j 3f the Bevenue Stamp D e p a r t m e i ^ ^ * 1

the cifyof Mexico, attempting tomigm0l a spy At Jalisco, bought a paekf45j§» '" cigarettes without a stamp from aj.poo tradesinan. Upon attempting toc^o |^

^cate / f i i e man's goods the a g e n f ^ p i ~sieized by the citizens, doused afefUMt yubiie-fountain, afterward tesx^fjtom "feajheredi. and -paraded throniTjQtT Sfeiets^aceompaiiied by a brass bf

'J W ^ B e s economy none can b e ^ r i i | '—with Economy few need be poor,. * "