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."