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As Thou Wilt. [The following linos were written by the devoted missionary, Mrs. Rouse, wife of the Rev. G. II. It >nso, L.L.Li., of the English Baptist inis ion, Calcutta, fluting an illne-s in the November of 187S. The writer died m England u few months ago.] Where Thou wilt, Lord Jesus, With my loved ones round, vr in xoiiciy silliness, Not one friendly sound; Stil! beside me Thou wilt stand, Eve!" hold my trembling hand. IIow Tiion wilt, Lord Jesus, Lingering sickness known, 3r with sudden swiftn rs Called bolore Tiiy throne: ?recd from fear and cleansed from guilt, Send what messenger Tiiou wilt. "When 'Dion wilt, Lonl Jesus, Mid life's busy cure. Or my day's work ended, Serving but by prayer: When the c hosen hour is come, T /x?/l iA nf linmn. liltVU Jilt; J ijUiU, IV IVCtr UV MV?IV> ; RELIGIOUS READING. Itelicion in l'ariiest. A precious saint wrote in the secret pages of her diary: "My religion took, on one happy day, the character of a genuine passion. I know it to be such, for I had loved intensely. And from that hour I had Christ for a daily companion and bosom friend. But I have never been able since that hour to do enough for Christ. The day is too short; my poor hands are too feeble. I long sometimes for an alabaster box of precious ointment, and some Lazarus to anoint fcr his beggar's burial, that so 1 may serve j mv T.nril." "Was not this a I true r. ligion ? It had a great world | of sweeping emotion in it. It seems to shake the simple sentences as with the breath of the Holy Ghost. And yet it had hands to work, furnished with hard tasks, which the glad heart made delightful by her love. Such a devotion will not be apt to spend itself in words. It is too genuinely hearty to be content to talk about itself ; its healthy impulse is to do Christ's work. And do we fancy that loveless hearts can render Iliin a full measure of service? We might learn from all other forms of fealty and devotion that it is the full, loyal, restless heart that inspires the best and the u-nrkv Tfannv are thev who '"'D""" " 1 l </ | love much the Master whose work is always waiting for loving hands.? JS. S. Times. Japanese Christianity. Several incidents have recently come to ray knowledge which illustrate in a most interesting manner the fidelity of the Japanese when they have adopted the Christian religion. The first of them is connected with a man who is now preaching the religion of the Bible in Osaka. lie was educated ; in the United States, and or. his return ; to Japan he was offered a position under the government worth about fifteen hundred dollars per annum, and which he declined because it would interfere with his determination to preach the gospel to his countrymen. For several years after entering upon those labors his annual income only ,1 4-? f ?t?/\ #1 nl 1 o ra o n rl ttLLlUUUieU LU SCH'll-mu UUIKU^, nuu is1 to-day only about $300. On one occasion, after his wife had complained to him of their hard lot and expressed a wish for a little money, he took a watch that he happened to have?his greatest treasure?and having sold it, gave the proceeds to his "Wife with the remark that she now had more money than was ever possessed by the Saviour of the world, who had never had a home, and was always beset by cruel enemies, while they not only enjoyed a home, but had all "the rice they needed. The health of this man was so very delicate that he had to take a prolonged rest after every religious service, and was in constant danger of dying from fatigue and want. Another incident that I would mention is connected with a poor blind woman: Her support was derived from the employment of shampooing, and her income was barely suflicient to feed her mother, two children and heiself from day to day, and when her pittance did not happen to come in, the following day was one of fasting and of special prayer; and she was wont to mention the fact as something remarkable, that she had never found it necessary to go without food on the Sabbath, thereby, proving the goodness of the Almighty towards those who try to be his faithful children. A church which some of these poor 1. -it 1 - -1 1 4.T J..1 people aueuueu w<is uuuer uiu speuiui patronage of a rich Japanese lady who stipulated that all the women who made their appearance there Should come dressed in cotton clothes, so that the poor might not be mortified by being seated with the rich in their gay attire?the result of this mandate having been to convene large and greatly interested assemblies. And thus it is that the derided heathen exemplify their devotion to the Christian religion! And still another striking incident was to this eti'ect: A manly boy, 1 I A. I .1 t A 1 1... 1.1 wnose nearii nau uesu iimcueu uv uie spirit of Christianity, resolved to attend a Sunday-school against the wishes of his father, who was a prolligate unbeliever. On the evening of every day that he attended the school he was regularly whipped by his fath( r with a piece of rope. After this had been going on for several weeks the boy appeared before his father one Sunday morning, and handing him the instrument of torture made this request: "Father, as you are determined to whip me every time I go to Sunday-school, and I am defnrminn/1 t r\ ett\ T WiMll/l !ial* r "ill f A lUiUVU V. \J A I?VV4*V?. UUIV J V> M UK/ punish me now before I disobey your orders, so that I may not have to think of the coming punishment wl en studying the Bib'e in Sunday-school." The result of that boy's pluck was to bring his father and all the family 'Within the fold of a happy Christian life.?Charles Lanman in N, Y. Observer. _______________ ' .4 BABY'S FEET. A baby's feat, like soishells piak, Might te.npt, should hearon see meet, -An angel's lips to kiss, vce think; A baby's feet. Like rosehued seaflowers toward the heat, They stretch, and spread, and wink Their ten soft buds that part and meet; A baby's feet. No flower bells that expand and shrink, Gleam half soheaveuly sweet As shine on life's untrodden brink; A baby's feet. ?Our Herald. 4 STUDY II ERDIRp 1 Jennie June Expresses Her Opinion ] About Modern "Fashion" and Gives Some Ideas of Art \ as Applied to Dress. < i The Cashmere, Greek, Ancient Greek ] and Graduate Costumes as Ap- j piled to the Art of Dress- i in? To Day. [Special Xew York Letter.] J The faults in dress and the absence of that ' freedom ar.d diversity necessary to the do- I 1 velopment and cultivation of tast9 seem to \ J arise principally from the acceptance by j ( women of incompetent authorities and the j' failure to apply to dress the sense and intelli- ! | gonce usually brought to boar on other sub- | jects, It has become a sort of axiom that de- j ] viation from "fashion"?whatever that may j 1 happen at the moment to be?must bo ugly i 1 and unbecoming, and beautiful dress, like j \ healthful food, wholesome perhaps, but not j < in the least agreeablo. It does not seem to j j strike the devout worshiper of ''novelties" ; 1 and "latost iileas" that increased change can- J 1 not always bo in the right direction, or that { the ".style,"' which merely represents the trick ! j r\P f-Urx niAHiatif non linvn nn or VI kUC IlilSI I IWI J ( | V?Mi llu I W tw (WVVWMtJ V. tru* relation to personal elegance and gooi taste. Both the merits and defects of our mode of dressing are more conspicuous in this , country than in others, because the follow* ars of fashion are mora numerous, more money is spent upon dress, and the distribution of prevailing ideas more general. It is not means or resources that are lacking, simply knowledge of principles, and this is an acquisition which takes time and implies an education in art. Ignorance of truth in regard to dress is as blissful as in respect to other thiiigs. While a woman is declared to be " exquisitely" dressed who woars a heterogeneous assortment of colors and " unrelated " forms, that woman will be satisfied with herself and her methods. Forms heretofore had nothing to do with fashion. The increase and decrease of artificial humps and excrescences?tho shortening and lengthening o? skirts, sleeves and bodices?the drawing in or inflation, havo a'l been conducted on purely arbitrary principles without any reforonce to truth in art or nature. Tho imbecility of it all, looked at from an abstract point of view, is more than funny, it is pitiable. Why a woman sensible on a;l other points should ask anxiously if she must wear a ''bustle," or do any other one of tho dozen things that fashion ordains to-day that It did not ordain yesterday, would be incredible if it were not common. Tho falsa standard set up leads every one astray. If a gown is in the reigning mode it is " stylish," if it is of oostly material it is " beautiful " or " elegant," aud the wearer is "magnificently" dressed, not common But there is hope for fcho future. American women are bsginning I to study form, and when they have once discovered the 39 -ret of true beauty and grace they will be quick to apply it. Heretofore, like arithmetic learned at school, thoy did j not think of applying art to everyday life, | but even lesnofis are taking practical shapes j and the latest studio idoa, that of the "cos- i tume class," will perhaps suggest the line I upon which improvement must be^in?that of nature, not caricature. PI ?4 , I CASHMERE COSTCMES. 1 Here is a study of a walking costume ia cashmere which is very simple, yet very charming, almost perfect in its grace of out- ! line and freedom from all conventional re- ; straints, such as pads, tie-backs, steel bars ' and other encumbrances. It is a copy of !1 one of Liberty's water-color designs, and is 1 made in two shades of Umritza cashmere, or any other soft, self-colored, (ill wool mate- ; < rial. Brown and ecru, two shades of gray, j 1 currant red and dark green or garnet and ; 1 fawn go well together. The red in either ' case, the brown and the darker of the grays being used for the skirt, which should be laid , ' In fine knife plaits. The overdress is smock- 1 lhaped, but rather narrow, the fullness, what < ther? is of it, which is only just enough tor , J ase over the enlarged portion of the body, j ' being gathered into the honev-combed shir- ? ring at the throat.and mora sflfhtly pulled in 1 at the waist, under the soft muu, which holds ( It without any gathwiut string and admits < j ?:.i? ...i.1 \Jk UCIIlg %1>WU w IIU? IBlb S1UU, WIIOIO it opens and fall? in ? uri? of draped folds, i Tho only shaping 1? under tha arms. The ' armholee are left nearly straight, so that the 1 arms move with e.tse and freedom and give < abundant space to the sleeves, which are a i modification of the old ''lez-of-mutton" and 1 may be tracked here and there to an inn^r 1 lining or to tap&s attached to the inside of the ' lv>wer part of the arm and to the top of the I shoulder. The shaping of the lower part of ' the sleeve can b^ seen by the position of the 1 left arm, which is turned so that the hand 1 touches the bodice. The hat matches exactly 5 the upper part of the dress, the bunch of ' feathers the tint o? the skirts. 5 rTTV &^*v\ T"" I N, ! I f GREEK COSTUMES. x This costume is the adaptation made from a the pure Greek dress by Mrs. Emily Pffeifer. t the author of the ''Lady of the Rock," "Fly- i ing Leaves," etc., and a well-known figure in London literary and artistic society. This 1 peculiar and very graceful style of costume 1 she has adapted to all her needs, and some j years ago illustrated in a series of articlos itx c % London periodical. Last year Mrs. Pffeifer with her husband, also an author and a musician of ability, though an amateur, visited this country, and many will recall the tall, graceful figure in its lovely drapery of white *nd gold or pale yellow with embroidery of Pomp? ian red, or the quieter olives wrought in leaf tints, which characterized her everj'iay attire. There was nothing so absolutely different in this dress as to attract attention; it was only conspicuous from its soft flowing lines anil the absence of the usual humps and high contrasts. The underdress of this costume is an absolutely plain, straight morning gown, which may have an upright tucked bodice (the tucks very fine) if the wearer is thin, but is otherwise shapod under the arm and gathered into Lhe belt, or it may be cut all in one and a belt arranged simply to mark the lino oE the waist. The drapery needs no cutting, it may tie airangea irom u snawi or a square or any i soft, double-width material, nun's veiling, heese clotli, fine woo!, silk or lace. The ?mbroidery is easily and quickly done in outline stitch in one or two colors or two shades of the same color, but it is better to use :>nly one color, unless two colors or ; two shades can l:o no judiciously used as to j produce a good result, and this can be at- j tained by knowlodgo and experience only, < not by direction through a medium so liable j to misconstruction as words. It should be : understood from the begin nine that all i colors u>od in art costumes are sort and pos- j >08s depth rather than surface color, sothat j they adapt themselves readily one to another, i The original of the Groek dre;s was made in russore silk, in its well-known delicate ecru ! Dr stone-colored tint: and the embroidery in ! [lame color, which hns a lambent quality, . not in the least like tho brick red, which is i >fttMi called by its r.ame. The corners of the j Irapery are united together on the shoulders with clasps of inwrought stone,or metal, and the mailings are of tho silk, feathered upon tho edge, or of embroidered laco. Mi i / /A?i\ ' !\ ANCIENT GREEK COSTUME. The design from the ancient Groek, it will bo seen, is a modification and combination of the other two, with feature3 *>f its own that are different from either. The foundation dross is very much the same as in Mrs. Pffeifer's Groek gown, oxcept that being made in print,and for ordinary u>o the sleeves are cut to the wrist. The overdress is hollowed a little at tho neck, front and back, but otherwise gathored in at the waist (only with more fullnoss) exactly like the "Cashmere Costume" excepting that the drapery is lifted somewhat to the right of the op?ning and beld by the clasp at the belt The body part is a'so cut in more to tho arm, ' be sleeves being less full and requiring less space. The material of the overdrew is what is known in London a* Arabian cotton. It has a naturally crinkled or crepy surface, irregularly ridged and falling in very close and graceful folds. It was used by Miss Anderson for her Galatea dress, designed by a London artist, and proved more amenable to artistio requirements than the China crepe nt 510 per yar.1 which she had previously employed. The skirt of the underdrew may be gathered or pleated, (understand pleated not plaited,) for ulait was formerly only used in the sense of braiding or weaving together, and is not properly applied to straight folds; but gathering is "more suitable for figured prints, such as that of which this skirt is made, as it do9s not conceal any part of the pattern and is more easily laundried. These costume1? are all what would bo called aesthetic, yet they aro beautiful, graceful, Bimple, convenient, and easily adapted to different use3. They are also, especially the cashmere costume, so nearly like the modes of tr?-dav that, in suitable materials and with proper treatment, they could be worn as they are, ?nd have been, without exciting unusual attention. But one of the reasons why this i.-an be dono is because conventional fashion, while sneering, reviling and ridiculing tho n-sthetic idea, has stolen its thunder and incorporated it, in fragments and without unity, into its changing and capricious repertoire of the modes. It lias done this in self-defen9e and because it was demanded. Ideas aro scarce in a conventional atmosphere, and the ?sthetic8 had an idea to begin with?several Df them?and they addressed themselves to tho taste and common sense of thinking, Intelligent women. The extravagances of unthinking and senseless followers who enitiavor to gain notoriety by exaggeration undoubtedly disgusted them, out underlying ill this they could not but discover an adaptability to lovely forms and simple materials, which was better than mere cost, so long the test of tasto an! elegance, and a sincerity ivhich is an essential element of morality in Iress as well as in the qualities of mind and Snort. TJiiia whnt.nv/ir mnv hfl^nirl nf it. it. will be found eventually that the so-called esthetic element is the truest and most important contribution made to tho ethics of ires* in this generation, and the ono that will jxereise the most decisive influence upon the future. The eagerness with which a new idea is seized if it comes from an authorative source s seeu in the efl'ort to utilize this sensation created by the appearance of tho Princess of Wales in* the dre*-> of the graduates upon whom a degree is conferred at tho college ef tjusJc in Dublin. Upon the.occasion of the mit of her royal highness an honorary decree was ronferred upon her nnd she was "onnaily invested in the cap nnd gown, whieh irovecl very becoming, for though no longer rery young and never strikingly beautiful, she posses*?* an interesting and expressive fa.-e, which retains its charms and even gains something with increasing age from the exer:iie of a lovely disposition. PRINCESS 07 WALES IN GRADUATE DRESS. The gown fmd cap are practically t'no satno is those worn at Oxford, and tho formal investment of tho Princess of Wales,her willingjes3 to wear tho costume as the sign of her fellowship with the body, settled forever the nooted question of propriety, so far as vomen graduates are concerned, and made /ho cap and gown a badge of student graduates without reference to sex. The gown as usually worn is black. In ;his instanco it was of red satin damask, , ined with satin and faced with velvet. fVbove the straight high collar are three folds >f soft crepo de chine and the pin is a dia mond lyre with fine, twisted gold strings.' The cap is commonly called tha "mortar- JI board,'' and has been the subject of cam- JJ poons innumerable, but is suddenly discovered to be veiy striking and picturesque, and English milliners are employing it or a modification of it extensively for misses and lit- ^ tie girls. Tbe '"gown" is in effect the "surplice" of the Church of England. Its feature is the high-set, rather full flowing sleeve?the top of which almost joins the col-. jar ana tne seam or wnicn is on tne oucsme, i where it is made slightly full as well as wide and flowing instead of under the arms. The rest of it is simply a long, straight sacque shaped under tlie arm3, on the shoulders, and with a gathering or Watteau pleat in the back, which flows out from the figure, and it is not fastened down. A word here may not be out of place in regard to tbe adoption of "the English word "gown," instead of "dress," as commonly used in this country. Like much other adopted phraseology, it is both well-used and mis-used. It is a great mistake to suppose that it is used by all of those who do use it "simply because it is English don't you know?" It has the positive merit of correctness and good usage to justify it. When a "dress'1 is made all in ona piece from neck to feet it is a "gown:" formerly, when cut at tho waist, it was a "frock." It d .1 c iL? i 2 ib w i oaiui^ uifa!> 11 UIII us uii^uiai ui^uuiiig, s which was generic and inclusive, to limit it |s to the upper garment which completes a ^ woman's dress. The modern dress vocabulary || contains French words which have become || naturalized. Why not "English," which is \ ^ our mother tongue? We use costume and ^ toilet without a sneer and without referring to where they came from. Why not gown, which is needed to designate the long garment for which we have no name except the ' incorrect and inexpressive one of dressf It wouid be a real advantage to the public, and save much confusion as well as eternal iteration and explanations, if the proper word could bo applied to the thing?in woman's dress?as in garments worn by men ?for example. We took the word toilette ? (twi-let) from the French, and now we call it . indiscriminately, toilette, or toilet. This last word is not properly employed, it is forced 1 freni its correct usage when it Is made to of mean only a part of itself. A Frenchwoman will speak of making her toilet for ohi the evening, but she uses the word in kro its generic sense, her toilette, forming part of t her toilet; and so well is this understood out- JEO side of fashions and fashion writing that the ?i ^ article of furniture in a lady's dressing room *ol which contains the toilet accessories and ap- soa purt-enances is known as the " toilet" table- ">* or " toilet" bureau. It is getting to be pret- &n< ty well understood now that *' costume aa( means all the outside parts of a walking out- *re nc composeu oc a commnauon 01 materials; "? while a "suit'' means the saino composed of one material. Suit and costume are mora or aP loss "complete1'as they are made to include all jacket, bonnet, muff or their equivalents. ful Children aro much more naturally, as well rat as moro beautifully, dressed now than of lato wi' yean>, or any time since they were made tho dei copies in miniature of the follies of their el- out ders. This change we owe partly to the by wider distribution of knowledge of physio- nia logical law, pjrtly to the advance all along brf the line of practical ethics, ami partly to the am modern art and aesthetic element as applied to the dross of children as well as women. A hai costume in two shades, or two colors, of tal Bu "*Ul kfrn ^ $ JL girl's costume. ?c< tb( cashmere for a girl is copied from one of eai Liberty's designs, nnd is adapted to n girl of eff from fourteen to sixteen?that difficult age j mj to deal with, when girls approach the woman su] without having parted from the child. The am design consists of a square-cut, sleeveless gr< tunic, shaped in to the waist and drawn tec up to the left side in natural folds ovei4 Ch the skirt of the frock, which may ba crt plain, tucked, or trimmed with rows of coi velvet. The shirring at the throat and upon coi the sleeves is done in honeycomb pattern, Jei with Kensington wool, in Kensington stitch, coi 01* the ordinary shirring may be overlaid tht with herring bone stitch in wool, in a diirer- Ca ent shade, or a contrasting color. In this Ki case the design may be rendered more com- sp< pleto by trimming the Bkirt with five rows of die velvet, spaced between, and put on with da' herring bone stitch in wool upon the upper fai and lower edges. For younger girls, say of sui ton ana twelve years, an adaptation nas iig been made of the carters1 "smock frock," a clo shapeless garment, made full, with full ma sleeves, gathered in ut the top and at the lia: neck, and honeycombed with strong linen th( thread in a by no means inartistic fashion, th< by the poor women of the agricultural dis- th< tricts. Soft, dainty materials,pretty shadings an and contrasts of color and a more decorating pn effect in the honeycombing at the throat and his upon the top of the sleeves, transform this tin once despised garment into a picturesque frock, the soft folds of a fine wool or silken is; saah adding the efl'ect of drapery to the j straight, simple folds of the skirt. At ten and see twelve a girl has no shape, and the awkward- Or ness of a waist which measures more inches so than the width around the shoulders is made pI? painfully conspicuous by a fitted frock or 0m elaborate costumes; the gathered "smock sav frock," on the contrary, gives her ea-e and sea displays the grace of free, untrammeled kef movement, while it is readily adapted to he* a s increasing growth. tesl A conventionalized costume adapted froi* cai the Russian for a girl of twelve is effective Atl but requires a rather slender and naturally "g| graceful figure. It is made of silk and velvet, ser gold and wine color, red and black, or a an(; peaceful shade of blue with dark green. The tha underdress is of the bright shade in silk, the 0f t bands of the same, covered wi:h diamonds, tha in narrow black, dark green or blue colored sjst velvet. The tunic is of plain velvet 111 the orj dark shade. ~ wh< Those sketches may suggest to young girls see) the use of a study of form, ns it reiates to the son practical work of providing covering for it, (_jor and not only thj economy but the opportu- jj60 nity for tlio exercise and development of ar- yea tistic taste in bojoming their own dressniak- ri,v ers. One of the most valuable ideas to be jus derived from the s-udy of art and from the ior dress of the aesthetic sHioo! is the folly and (ex impropriety of superfluous ornament?of sey trimming that lias no purpose an i no relation , . to the article it is intended to adorn. This ' one idea well impressed upon the minds of our young women would moralize their dress lfl and exercise a beneficial influence upon our ?. entire social and domestic lire. ^ / ' / s t' wii rid When the Cat i3 A-jay. ^ j Mamma: "Clara, you have not beetl a ^ good girl to-day. Now,instead of help- tha ing to throw stones at that poor old rag- W1* peddler, you should have told your ^ playmates that it was wrong. You should ftrc try and do somebody a kindness every is day. You know the rhyme": to "Count that day lost whoso low doscouding sun t,hfi Sees at thy hand no worthy action done." ? Clara: "Yes, mamma, but to-day was pie cloudy, and there wasn't any sun."?Tid of < Pits. trii tin: wit Education commences at the mother's all knee, and every word spoken within the ins hearing of a child tends toward the formation of character. 81 I TAIJAGE'S SEMI HE PLEIADES AND ORION. REV. T. DeWITT TALMAGE, D. D. rext: "Seek bim that maketh the sevon rs and Orioa."-?-Amos v., 8. A. country farmer wro! e this text, Amos To! on. He plowed the earth and eshod the grain l>y a new threshing mane just invented, as formerly the cattle d out the grain. He gathered the fruit of isyramore tree and scarified it with an n comb just before it was getting ripe, as vas necessary and customary in that way take from it the bittprnesHo was the k of a poor shepherd and stuttered, but bee this stammering rustic the Philistines 1 Syrians, nnd Phoenicians, and Moabites, 1 Ammonites and Edoraites and Israelites mbled. Moses was a law-giver, Daniel <? a prince, Isaiah a courtier and David a ig, but Amos, the author of my text, was teasant, an<i. as might be supposed, nearly his parallelisms are pastoral, his prophecy 1 of the odor of new-mown hay, and the ,tle of locusts and the rumble of carts th sheaves, and the roar of wild beasts rouring the llock, while the shepperd came ; in their defence. He watched the herds day and by night, inhabited a booth ide'out of bushes so that through those inches ho could see the stars all night long i was more faxiiliar wilh them than we io have tight roofs to our houses and rdly ever seo the stars except among the 1 brick chimneys of the great town. ,t at seasons of the year when ? herds were in especial danger would stay out in the open field through the darkness, his ouly shelter the [ tain of the night htavens, with its stellar * o rxF l.niar LUl'UiUUi iua aim au?uvu taunio \jl xi.urji ht What a life of solitude all alone wil h i herds! Poor Amos! And at twelve lock at night hark to the wolves bark and 3 lions roar and tho bears growl and the Is te-whit-te-whoo and the serpents hiss, as unwittingly steps too near while moving rough tho thickets. So Amos, like other rdsmen, eot the habit of studying the map the heavens because it was so much of tlia oe spread out before him. lie noticed ne stars advancing and others receding. > associated their dawn and setting with tain seasons of the year. He had a poetic ture, and he read night by night and >nth by month and year by year tho poem the constellations divinely rhythmic. But o rosettes of stars especially attracted his iention while seated on tho ground or lying his back under the open scroll of the mid;ht heavens?tho Pleiades or Seven Stars d Orion. The former group this rustic aphet associated with the spring as it rises out tho first of May. The latter he assoi'ed with the winter as it comes to the rid:an in January. The Pleiades or Seven ars connoctod with all sweotness and joy, ion the herald of tho tempest. The aunts were tho more apt to study the phvsinomy and juxtaposition of the heavenly ilio > because they thought they had a specinfluence upon tho earth, and perhaps iy wero right. If the moon every few hours ts and lets down tho tides of tho Atlantic nnrl Mirv nlanf??!/> ofr\f In^f. in JtftJJL UIIU VUU V> IVWI/1 ('%> JH/l 111? VI. iU.JW v AAA j sun by all scientific admission a fleeted th? rth, why not the stars have proportionate oct/ And there are some things which iko mo think that it may not havo been all aerstition which connected the movements i appearance of tho heavenly bodiis with jat moral events on earth. Did not a me>r run on evangelistic errand on tho first ristmas night and designate the rough idle of our Lord? Did not tho stars in their irses fight ngainst Sisera? Was it merely ncidontal that before the destruction of rusalem the moon was eclipsod for twolve isecutive nights? Did it merely happen so it a new star appeared in constellation ssiopeia and then disappeared just Lefore ng Charles IX., of France, who was remsiblo for St. Bartholomew's ma^s.icre, id? Was it without significance that in the y tho Roman Emperor Justinian war and nine were preceded by tho dimness of the 1, which for nearly a year gave 110 moro lit than the moon, although there were 110 uds to obscure it? Astrology, after all, | iy have been something more than a brilnt heathenism. No wonder that Amos of ) text, having heard these two anthems of 3 stars, put down the stout, rough staff ot 3 herdsman and took into his brown band d cut and knotted fingers the pen of a ophet and advised the recreant people of 1 time to return to God, saving: "Seek him it maketh tho Seven Stars and Orion." rhis command which Amos gave 785 B. C. r? 10UK A T? jusi ue upprujji IULO IUI ui icw rx. u. in the first place, Amos saw, as we must , that the God who made the Pleiades and ion must be the God of order. It was not much a star here and a star there that im>ssod the inspired herdsmen, but seven in i group and four in the other group. He v that night after night, and 6easori after son, and decade after decade, they had )t step of light, each one in its own place, iisterhood never clashing and never conling precedence. From the time Hesiod led the Pleiades the "seven daughters of as," and Virgil wrote in his ^Eneid of :ormy Orion" until now, they have obtred the order established for their coming I going; order written not in manuscript t may be pigeon-holed, but with the hand ;he Almighty on the dome of the sky so t all nations may read it. Order. Ferent order! Sublime order. Omnipotent er. What a sedative to you and me to urn communities and nations sometimes n going pell-mell and the world ruled by le demon of Imp-hazard, and in all direcis maladministration! The God who ps seven worlds in right circuit for 0,000 .Vs can certainly ke?p all the affairs of in iduals nnd nations and continents in a<ltinent Wo had not better fret much, the peasant's implied argument of the t was right. If God can take care of the en worlds of the Pleiades, and tho four ef worlds of Orion, he can probably take 0 of tho one world we inhabit. So I feel y much as my father felt one day when were going to the country mill to get a st ground, and I, a boy of seven years, , in the back port or the wagon, 1 our yoke of oxen ran away with us and >ng a labyrinthine road through tho woods, that I thought every moinont we would bd shed to pieces, and I mado a terrible out of fright ami my father turned to me, ill a face perfectly calm, and said, "DeWitt, at arc you crying about? I guess we can e as fast as the oxen can run." And, my trers, wljy should we be affrighted anu lose * equilibrium in the swift movement of rldly event?, e-pecially when we are as 6(i that it is not a yoke of unbroken steers ,t is drawing us on, but fc'aat order and ?e government are in tho yo'co? In your upation, your mission, your sphere,do the tt y<,u can and thontrust God.and if things i all mixed and disquieting and your brain hot and your heart sick got some one go out with you into the starlight and nt out to you tlw Pleiades, or, better than it, get into some observatory and through i telescopo see further than Amos with tho ced eye could, namely, 200 stars in tho iades,and that in what is called tho Sword Drion there is a nebula computed to ho two lion, I wo hundrod thousand billions of les larger than the sun. Oh, bo at peace h the God who made all that and controls that, the wheel of the constellations turnin the wheel of galaxies for thousands of irs without tho breaking of a cog or the ping of a band or the snap of an axla. | For your placidity and comfort through the Lord Jesus Christ I charge your "Seek bira that raaketh the Soven Stars and Orion." , Again Amos saw as we must see-that the \ God who made these two groups of the text was the God of light. Amos eaw that God was not satisfied with making one star ortwo or three stars, but ho makes sevenrand bavished that group of worlds makes another group?group after group. To the Pleiades he adds Orion. It seems that God likes light so we'.l that ho keeps making it. Ohly ono being in the universe knows the statistics of solar, lunar, stellar, meteoric creations, and that is the Creator himself. AnJ they hare all been lovingly christened, eacli one-a name as distinct as tbe namrs of your chiidrea. "He telleth the number of the stars, h? calleth them all by their names." The seven Pleiades had names given to them, and they are Alcyone, Morope, Celoenoo, Electra, Sterope, Taygate and Maia. But think of the billions and trillions of daughters of starry light that Grod calls by name as they sweepby him with beaming brow and lustrous robe: 80 fond is God of light, natural light;, moral light, spiritual light. Again and again islight harnessed for symbolization?Christ, the bright and morning star; evangelization, the daybreak; the redemption of nations, sun of righteousness rising with healing in his wings. Oh, men and women, with so many sorrows and sins and perplexities, if you want light of comfort, light of pardon, light of goodness, in earnest prayer through Christ seek him that maketli the Seven Sbars- and Orion. Again, Amos saw, as we must seo, that the God who made those two archipelagos of stars must be an unchanging God. There had been no change in the stellar appearancein this herdsman's lifetime, and his father, a shepherd, reported to him that there had been no change in his lifetime. And these two clusters nang over the celestial arbor now just as they were the first night that they shone on Edenic bowers, the same as whea the Egyptians built the pyramids, from the top of which to watch them, the same as when the Chaldeans calculated the eclipses, the same as when. Elihu, according to the Book of Job, went out to study the aurora borealis, the same under Ptolmaic system and Copernican system, the same from Calisthonos to Pythagoras, and from Pytha TT_ o 14 5 IU Iicrsc?ici?. UUl KZIJ U V/UUU^(7iV90 VfVU must have fashioned tho Pleiades and Orion. Ob, what an anodyne amid the ups and downs of lifo aud the flux and reflux of the tides of prosperity to know that we have a changeless Ood*. the same yesterday, to-day and forever. Xerxes garlanded and knighted the steersman of his boat in the morning and hangoi him ia the evening of the same day. Fifty thousand people stood around the columns of the national capitol shouting themselves hoarse at the presidential inaugural, and in four months so great were the antipathies, that a ruffian's pistol in a Washington depot expressed the sentiment of a great multitude. The world sits in its chario* and drives tandem and the horse ahead is huzza and the horse behind is anathema. Lord Cobham, in King James's 1 tirn?, was applauded and had $35,000 a year, but wa3 afterward execrated and lived on scraps stolen from the royal kitcheri. Alexander the Great after death remained unburied for thirty days because no one would do him the honor of shoveling him under. Tno Duke of Wellington refused to have his iron fence mended because it had been broken by an infuriated populace in some hour of political excitmeut and he left it in I - 1L*.! 1 ? ruins mac men uuguu icaiu nuau a uvam thin* is human favor. But "tha morcy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting to them that fear him and his righteousness unto the children's children of such as keep his covenant and to those who remember his commandments to do them." This moment ".seek him that maketh tho Seven Stars and Orion." Again Amo3 saw as we must see that the God who made these two brackets of the oriental night sky must bs a God of love and kindly warning. The Pleiades rising in May 8a id to all the hordsimn and shepherds and husbandmen: "Come out and enjoy the mild weather and cultivate your gardens and fields." Orion coming in winter warned them t j propare for tempest. All navigation was regulated by these two constellations. The one said to shipmaster anl crew: "Hoist sail for the sea and gather merchandise from other lands." But Orion was the storm signal and said: "Reef sail, make things snug or put into harbor, for tho hurricanes are getting their-wings out" As the Pleiades w?r? the sweet evangels of the spring, Orion was tha warning prophet of the winter; oh, now I get the best view of God I ever had. There are two kindj of sermons I nevor want to preach?the one that presents God so kind, so indulgent, so lenient, sd imbecile that men may do what they will against him and fracture His every law and put the pry of their imporbinence and rebellion under his throne, and while they are spitting in his face and stabbing at his heart he takes them np in his arms and kisses their infuriated brovv and cheik, saying, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven." The other kind of sermon I never want to preach is the one that represents God as all fire and torturo and thundercloud and with red-hot pitchfork tossing the human race into paroxysm of infinite agony. The ferruon that I want to preach and the sermon I am now preaching believes in a God of love and kindly warning, the God of spring and winter, the God of the Pleiades and Orion. You must remember that tha winter is just as important as the spring. Let one winter pa?s without frost to kill vegetation, and ice to bind the rivers, and snow to enrich our fields, and then you will have to enlarge your hospitals and cemeteries. "A green Christmas makes a fat graveyard" was tha old proverb. Storms to purify the air. Thermometer at ten degrees above zero to tone up the system. December and January just as important as May and June.. I tell you wg ne^d the storms of life as much as we do the sunshine. There are more men ruined by prosperity than by adversity. If we had had our own way in life, before this we would have been impersonations of selfishness, and worldliness, and disgusting sin, and puffed up until we would havo been like Julius Caesar, who was made by sycophants to oelievo that he was divine, and the freckles on his face were as the stars of the Armament. One of the swiftest transatlantic voyages made last summer by the Etruria was be cause she had a stormy wind abaft, chasing her from New York to Liverpool. But to those going in opposite directions the storm was a buffeting and a hindrance. It is a bad thing to have a storm ahead pushing us back, but if wo are God's children and aiming toward heaven the storms of life will only chase us the sooner into the harbor. Oh, I am so glad to believe that the monsoons and typhoons and mistrals and siroccos of land and sea are not unchained maniacs let loose upon the earth, but under divine supervision. I am so glad that the God of the Seven Stars is also the God of Orion. It was out of Dante's suffering came tho sublime Divina Comoedia. and out of John Milton's blindness camo Paradise. Lost, and out of a miserable infidel attack came the Bridgewater Treatise in favor of Christianity, and out of David's exile caine the songs of consolation, and out of the sufferings of Christ came the possibility of the world's redemption, and out of your bereavements, your persecutions, your "poverties, your misfortunes may yot come an eternal heaven. Ob, what a mercy it is that in the text and all up and down tho Bible God induces us to look out toward other worlds. Bible astronomy in Genesis, in Joshua, in Job, in the Psalms, in the prophets, major and minor, in St. John'a npocalyps? practically saying: "Worlds! Worlds! Worlds! Get ready for tnem." We nave a nice Jlttie world neretha? we stick to as though losing that we lose all. We are afraid of falling off this little raft of a world. We are afraid that some meteoric iconoclast will some night smash it and we want everything to revolve around it and are disappointed whon we find that it revolves around the sun instead of the sun revolving around it. Oh, what a fuss wo make about il.*_ 'UJi. il-o ftTicfAnr*a nnlv A blllS ilLlutJ Ull Ul Ct >?ui iuj ivo UAiokuiivv vu*j ?* | short time between two spasms, the paroxysm by which it was hurled from chaos lino order and the paroxysm of its demolition. And I am glad that so many texts call us to look off to other worlds, many of them larger and eostlior on] niore resplendent there!" says Job, i;at MazsrCthand Arcturus aiid his sons!" "Look there!" says St. John, "at the moon under Christ's feet!" "Look there!" says Joshua, "at the suu standing still above Gibeon!" "Look there!" says Moss?, "at the sparkling firmament!" "Look there!" says Amos, the herdsman, "at the Seven Stars and Orion!" Don't let us be so sad about those who shove off from this world un ier (.'bristly pilotage. Don't let us be so agitated nna nmn rrrvi n or r> fP fllis Mttlfl UUUUU VU1 UM14 hV4"5 VIA. barge or sloop or canal-boat of a world to pet on soma Great Eastern of the heavens. Don't lot us persist in wanting to stay in this barn, this shed, this out-house of a world when all the King's palaces,already occupied by man.}'of our best frieuds.are swinging wido open thoir gates to let us in. Whan I read "In my Father's house are many mansions," I do not know but that each world is a room and as many rooms as there are worlds, stellar stairs, stellar galleries, stellar hallways, stellar windows, stellar domes. How our departed friends must pity us shut op in these cramped apartments, tired If W9 walk fifteen miles, when they some morning by one stroke of wing can make circuit of the whole solar system, and be back in time for matins. Perhaps yonder twinkling constellation is the residence of tbe martyrs. Perhaps that group of eleven luminaries is the celestial home of the eleven apostles. Perhaps that steep of lighft ?tbe dwelling-place of angels cherubic, seraphic, archangelic. A mansion with as many rooms as worlds, and an tneir windows muminatea ror iesmviiy. Ob, bow this widens and lifts and stimulates our expectation. How little it makes the present, and how stupendous it makes the fuJure. How it consoles us about our pious dead, that instead of being boxed up and under the ground, they have the range of aa many rooms as there are worlds, and welcome everywhere, for it is tbe father's house m which there are many mansions, Ob, Lord God of the Seven Stars and Orion, how can I endure the transport, the ecstasy of sucb a vision. 1 must obey my text and seek him. J will seek bim. I seek him now, for I call to aOnd that it is not the material universe that is most valuable, but the spiritual, and that each of us has a soul worth more than all the worlds which the inspired herdsmen saw away from his booth on the hills of Tekoa. I had stndied it before,but the cathedral at Cologne, Germany, dover impressed me as it did this summer. It is admittedly the grandest Gothic structure in the world, its foundation laid in 1248, ouly two or three years ago completed. ' More than 600 years in building. AH Europe taxed ror its construction, its cnapeJ of tbe mat?i with precious stone* enough to purchase a kingdom. Its chapel of St. Agnes with masterpieces of painting. Its spire springing 511 feet into the heavens. Its stained glass the chorus of all rich colors. Statues encircling the pillars and encircling all. Statues above statues, until sculpture can do no more, but faints and falls back against carved stalls and down on pavements \ over which the kings and queens of the earth have walked to confessional; nave and aisles and transept and portals combining the splendors of centuries; interlaced, interfoliated, inter-columned grandeur. As I stood vvt| outside looking at the double range of flying buttresses and the forest of pinnacles, higher and higher until I almost reeled from dizziness, I exclaimed: ''Great doxology in stonel Frozen prayer of many nations I" But while ~ s standing their I saw a poor man enter and put down his pack and kneel beside his burden on the hard floor of that cathedral. And tears of dtep emotion came into my eyes as I said to myself:4 'There is a soul worth more than all the material surroundings. That man will live after the last pinnacle has fallen and not one stone of all that cathedraied glory shall remain uncrumbled. He is now a Lazarus in rags and poverty and weariness, but immortal, and a son of the Lord God Almighty, and the prayer he now , -7;$ offers, though amid many superstitions, I bej lieve God will hear, and among the Apostles whose sculptured forms stand in the surround- '''* ing niches, he will at last be lifted and into the presence of that Christ whose sufferings are represented by tho crucifix before whicn he bows, and be raised in due time out of all his poverties into the glorious home built for him and built for us by "Him who maketh the Soven Stare and Orion." _____ TEMPERANCE iOHOl Charybdls. > Charybdis, whirling, roaring, drew Unluckv shins and all their crew Beneath the waves; and, battered, threw Them up, to fall and writhe anew. Methinks Cbarybdis, reddened from Its bloody victims, now has come To seize our country, dazed and dumb, . And drown it in tbe whirl of Rum! ^ ?National Temperance Advocate. ' Keep Away From Temptation. The only safe course for a young man who would retain his virtue and hi8 correct principals, is to keep away from temptation. Ho*v many have fallen who merely ventured to look at vice in her gaudy colors! Here temptation was too strcng to resist. They partook of the fatal glass?snatched the gilded treasure, or gave themselves up to uncleanness. None ar? secure who run in the way of sin?who see how near they can venture on the hold of vice without entangling their feet in the net of the adversary. Have you ever heard the story of the gentleman who advertised for a coachman? If not. we will rcDeat it. Three applicants were admitted to the room. He pointed out to them a precipice, remarking: "How near the edge of this can you drive me without any danger of an upset?'' v|3| The first applicant replied: "Within a hair's breadth." "How near can you drive me?" asked the gentlemen of the second applicant. "Within a hair's breadth," he replied. As the third was about leaving the room-, supposing he had no chance of. competing with the other two, the gentleman stopped him. $ "Let U3 hear what you have to say," said be. "Why, sir, I can not compete with either of these; if I were to drive you, I would keep as far-off as I possibly could." "You are the man for me," said the gentleman, and he engaged him immediately. In regard to vice, he is only safe who keeps away from temptation. Those who venture near are often upset and destroyed. We can all point to individuals who are lost to virtue, who, when they took the first wrong step, resolved never to take another. It was the voice of a pretended friend, it may be, that urged them on, only for once, but it proved their destruction. Ye who are now safe, whose hearts are not contaminated, listen to the voice of wisdom and go not near the strong allurements of vice. Keep away from the gambling table, the grog ?? J mirlnJrfLf norfiT TtTaon o TTTO Tf SUUp UUU IUC UilUUl^Ub j/uibji U.VVJI ca < uj as far as possible, and a life of integrity and virtue will assuredly be yours. Sad Fate of a Brilliant Man.' A brother of Mr. William Stead, the editor of the Pall Mall Gazette, lies in a nameless grave in the town of Clayton, Ala. "It -was in 1372," says the Atlanta Constitution, "that Stead made his appearance in Clayton. lie was a tramp, but gave evidence of having seen better days. Penniless and friendless, he gladly accepted odd jobs, and soon wont to work as a landscape gardener. To Professor Johnson, then a teacher in Clay~ ** n :n Ai_ _ _j_ _ e t!. 1! ton, Steaci connaca me story oi ma iuw. It was the old story of drink and the train of evil which followed it. Run; had robbed him of family, fortune, and friends, and made him a vagabond upon the face of the earth. Again the demon seized him, and this time death j put an end to his struggle and tempta| tions. Professor Johnson wrote to the I t An/inn nditnv informing him of ??ll/Ub JiUnuuu vv??wj 0 his brother's sad fate, and in due time a reply came acknowlekgiug the relationship, and giving the history cf a brilliant but uncontrollable man. The prosperous editor begged the professor to communicate anything of a pleasant nature he might know about the outcast, but not to write any unpleasant tid| ings."