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AN OLD GAHUEN.
tAn odor of full-Mxttf.J llowew Itids m restrain my Btep and lcaa Over an old Kray wall, where txiwcrs The id.rhikiiig musa iu crevice grotii. Spread iiiTi' before my listless gaze An old-world llnglitdi garden lies. .Where path ;i ml arbors twine a maze, Aud l! wi'is woo the buzzing dies. Untrimn-.ed, unkempt. In btvUh growth. All nature kp! tunpanionship; Tho graceful lily in not loatli To tt'Ui-ii tlu briar with her lip. In pea. h tree shade I'm Ho with wild, All unsaspocting of their birth; Ami weed to plant is reconciled lty common love for Mother Harth. The paths and beds would fain conceal listiii tin where tin apple drops, Or Iruai.t m raw berry blossoms fool Their way arrows to alien crops. Whib tr.iif s and liilien intercede, ' All r i v n 1 hoes to harmonize Tis thusnliko (hi rose and wl Contralto pleasure tu our yes. I lov tl.rr, garden, ami like the bo; This bb-sMng front thy bounty hip T'ai- ti o irelvcs wo each may be, lbij fain-r fr -ompani nship." St. I.o'.:is Clobo Ibtnotrat. A FATHER S SKCIiKT. I. EMILY VANK sat In 1 lie lrawlng n"tn window which overlooked ti.:1 m':i and the Cleveland lulls ltit she .nv neither sen nor hills She nml her father, with the- servants, had lo'Ti now some live weeks at Saltburn. In a large liu:se which .Mr. Vane had tented ftr the summer. Henry Vane, 1., owned a good sized mansion l:i Holgravia. where ho had lived lor fh, past eight ears during the Loudon sea sou, and nn estate near Nottingham, timid pieUiresiiue scenery, where he generally resided when not In London, lhich Mimmer. however, he rented Ids liotis. at Saltburn; for not only Ihnily, but himself too, was charmed with the qutef, beautiful Yorkshire watering Idace. I'min all of which It will be at na surmised that Henry Vane, lis.., was a man of wealth. His money had been acquired abroad, und though of his family nothing or little was known In society, he was Well received by some excellent houses; for oven a titled person does not care lightly to offend one whose Income. U f lO.tMxi. 1'tnlly Vane saw neither sea nor hills. Her thoughts were wholly eccttpled hy two let ton In front of Iter, lloth lind com that morning, and both were proposals for her hand. The first of thorn was from the Karl of Scaerofr. win fr moiio time had been paying Miss Van noticeable attentions, and tvho. both as regarded personal quail tie? ami position, wan Indeed no bad match for any L'ngllsh maiden, lie rwn yet young ami fairly wealthy, and for somv months-In fact, since L'ntlly had "come out" - had been a victim to her bnuty and charms. She admitted to herself that Lord Soaeroft's proposal was not one to be lightly Net aside. The other letter was front Mr. Hu bert Wells, Ihnlly had met him about fix months ago, at a country house, Kineo which time he had been her de voted admirer. She frankly confessed to herself that she liked him, that she liked his society, that she knew that lie loved her. Hut Hubert Well? was not rich, and lud no particular posl tlon. He had only about Hoo a year, .which Jiis f'tther, long since dead had .loft uwT; io live upon. KmUy Vane still sat, looking first at Ihls proposal, then at that. She had tfor the pat week or two, expected both, and so unsettled and doubtful w:us she that she had given neither Stil tor any chance of proposing person ally. Hut now it had come both on one morning! The ordeal had to be faced; the decision to be made! Her 3ride, her love for her father, her wish to raise the name of Vane, said "Sea croft ;" yet there w as a small voice un derneath which whispered, Hubert." In her perplexity she picked up the letters, and went to see her father in Ids study. Emily Vane's mother had lled at her birth; her father was Iter closest confidant. As Emily entered tie rose up ami kissed her lovingly, then, smoothing her hair, said, quietly: , "Which of the two is it to be, love?" " The beautiful girl gazed at htm with eyes half dimmed with tears, as she answered, blushingly: "Whichever my papa likes! He al ways chooses for the lcst." "Well, my dear, suppose I should say rrd Sea croft? I have always wished Buch a husband for you titled, yet noble in nature's best way." "Yes, papa." ' "Yet I like this Mr. Wells." ' Emily's heart beat a shade quicker. 'He cannot give you what the Earl of Sea croft can, and what I have so often pictured you; and yet and yet he is his father's son!" The girl pized, half in fear and as tonishment, for her father was as pale as death, and shook visibly. "What is it, papa?" she said. "Sit down, my love," replied Mr. .Vane. "It has only come, as I felt cer tain Fome day It would. (lod has brought it out In his time. I must tell you now. Don't be afraid, Emily. It Is the secret of my life which I've hid- den for thirty-five years; now you must haro it. I feel I should not be doing right if I let 3011 choose to-day without telling you ot it. When yon have heard my story you must choose for yourself. and be assured your choice, whichever It i?, w ill please me. As for what you will hoar. It will remain your secret and mine; I shall keep it as before, and I must beg tit you to do the same all your life, even from your hu.-.band." II. Emily sat in doubt and Tear, sun lh.it the !iind father who had so Ivo lier we;:! 1 not 'ell anything to distress iier, if ho could help it; and yet an toils 2a to what sue 1 1 awful Beeret rould be. The in'istrr of Olfon sat In a chair with his face away from thelight, watching intently that dear, sweet lace of his daughter, upon which the full sunJight shone. "Thirty-seven years ago a convict ship was willing from England for P.otany Hay, tinder the command of a brave captain and crew. There wer' no fewer than forty convicts on hoard desperate fellows of every descrip tion; thieves, highwaymen, inanslay ers, all kinds of villains. Among them was one whose case had excited much interest at home, since many peo ple believed him Innocent morally, at any rate -of a crime he was said to have committed. Among a gang of poachers one night he. their superior In rank, had had the misfortune to shoot one of the keepers who watched for thriii and attacked them. The shot had killed the keeper, but there was some doubt as to whoso gun It had come from, and, when the convict in question was arrested and charged, the keepers swore that he had li rod the shot, l-'or himself, he knew not wheth er this was so; several of his fellow poachers said ho was innocent, and that the real culprit had escaped. His sen tenoe, however, was that of penal servi tude at Uotany Hay for life--probably the doubt alone wived him from be ing hanged. "Naturally, his spirit was galled; ho became morose, wild, severe iu aspect as In temper, and his reputation on th. convict ship was that of the worst criminal on board. He rebelled at his Jailers, at his foot I, at his coniineinent. and felt ready for any dark deed. The chance so. m came. The vessel was off t!u t'apo of d'ood Hope, .Mime miles away, when he tirst got knowledge of a projected mutiny, iu which the cap iain, crew and Jailers were all to be murdered; and the successful mutinecr ing convicts were then to steer for some unknown point in Africa and laud there. "It was a desperate scheme and with the mutiny ho was thoroughly in uni son, but not w ith the murder. He was not yet as black as that, and tried hard to dissuade his fierce companions from it, but In vain. As they persisted in their plans, ho felt that all he could do was to keep quiet till the time for action came; but the captain and his wife bad boon really kind to him, and ho determined that they should not die. Yet he would not betray his com panions like a coward. "On Sept. S the attack was made. Ho stood near the captain's cabin to pro its t Its unsuspecting inmates. When the mutineers, having seized the watch on deck and killed them, came rushing down, he ordered them back from that cabin; thoy refused to go, and a light ensued. The captain became noised, the alarm was given, ami, after a ties loralo resistance, the rebels weio over pou red and put In Irons. The cap tain begged of the guards to set the convict who had saved his life at lib erty, but they declined, pretending that, in reality, ho was as bad as the rest. So he was closely guarded. "It was touching at lVrth that the captain's opportunity came. Having sovurod the co-opcratltui of his mates, ho entertained the whole of the guards to dinner one evening, ami math) them helplessly drunk. In the meantime one of his party contrived to secure posses sion of the keys, ami in 11 few moments the convict's irons had been unloos ened, and he was free. The captain himself came ami shook hands with him ere he sent him off In the boat which was waiting for him. " 'I know,' said he, 'that what I have done for you is risky and may cost ni" something if my part is discovered ; ut you saved my life, so I will take tills risk to save you from the crushing penal servitude. All I have to say to you is, get away from the coast, after you have landed, as soon as possible, change j-our name ami appearance as much as you can; go into some honest Misinoss, and, though it is not likely, f ever I do hoar of you again lot It be in such a way that will do you credit. intl repay me for giving you freedom to-night The tears stood in the convict's eyes as lie thanked his benefactor and grasp ed Iiis hand. "Sir, I shall take your adrlce. My it tie bit of good was almost gone by the brutal treatment I have suffered for I don't think I killed that game keeper, but even if I did, it was purely accidental. Y'ou have prove! to me that all the kindness and gratitude are not yet gone out of the world, ami I hope some day to be able to show you how I appreciate It "Within a few minutes more the boat had lar.de! him on the mainland. He wa tche 1 it return to the ship and then departed. III. "It was six years after this that, with money made in sheep farming, Joseph Turnell, the former convict, turned up at llallarat just as the first rush of the gold fever occurred. It was Turnell who lought the great tract of land which was afterward discovered to be almost wholly gold under the surface. and who sold It, after getting some thousands out of It, for a very large sum. But nobody in England or Aus tralia, when Joseph Turnell's name was mentioned, ever thought for a moment that he was the escaicd convict about whom such a stir had been made at home, both on his escape and later, when a dying tramp confessed that it was his gunshot that memorable night which killetl the keeper. "Joseph Turnell was wealthy, and had married a dear girl in Victoria, who had lorne him a daughter ere she died. N'.'ed I go on. Emily? You have guessed it all! He came to England, and took the name of Henry Vane, ow ing to having had some estates left him. as ho told his friends; in reality, to throw any chance obi acquaintance off the scent. There Is no fear now of any dUcovoiy or disagreeable thing hap pening. I felt ncrvcus the first year or two. but now the only two who know- all this are you and I, for even thy good old captain Is dead. 5o, yen se?. . rra Imprisoned unjustly after all, but u has turned out a goial thing for mo In tin end. And, now you have wealth am! beauty, I wauled, for my own ambi tion, to see you a lady by title and posi tion, and the Earl of Seticroft could have n liner countess, nor you a iiioil desirable husband." She sat pale ami agitated, yet smil ing now. for was not her dear fuller frceof t!ia lawful, even If unintentloial. crime which had made her feel so sk-U as lie told her the story? "So you think I must choose Lml Scaerofr:" asked she. "Xay," replied Mr. Vane; "I 1km; scarcely done yet. Hoar the rest aid chtost? for yourself. As you know nov, all I have I owe to that good captalii my freedom, my wealth, my fair fa up. I promised -anti Jod knows 1 hay tried-novor to forgot him ami his wif. Emily, that captain's name was Hübet. Wells, ami this Hubert Wells Is his soi! I found out all easily by my agents. ( have never repaid the father, nev.r an, nor the mother, lther, for wh.t thoy dltl. My own, learest darling ca:, if she choo-es -and 1 half suspect t will be agreeable- sacrilice wlih m Mir ambitious hopes, ami repay the set for his father's Ma!:c!" Ho stopped and looked at her. l'mil Vane's eyes wandered thoughtfully ou in a long gaze over the sunlit sea; thei she turned with a ca'.tn smile am w hispcred: "Yes, learest papa, and she will "Coil bless you both." said ho. '.The captain, though far away, will be as delighted as 1 am'-Thl liits. DRILLED CLEAR THROUGH. Man Pit recti ly un Iron anil I.lveJ to Tell the Talc. They were liscussing last night at a miners' lHartling-house the recent stab bing f Tom Lynch at the Uutte Hotel, ami a number of cases of a similar na ture were brought up in which the in jured men recovered and were as hear ty as ever. "The most remarkable one, though, that I ever heard tf." said lorry llarrl gan, "was that of Tat Mulligan, with whom I worked for many a year. In .hin', 1SS1, Mulligan was working at tin? lrny Hock, when the shaft on that property w as about --." fct leep. Mul ligan was one of the sinking crew, ami Mio lay the bucket which was usol for taking out the waste and wati-r was being hoisted to the surface. Tin? bucket was almost tilled with water ami the shaft men, unknown to the top man, put six dull drills In the buck et to bo sent on top to be sharp'Mietl. The top man dumped (ho water iu 11 trough at the collar f the shaft with out closing the trap loors on top ami one of (he drills rolled out, struck tint trough ami fell oU' down the shaft. It was an inch drill I wo feet long and weighed about six pounds. Mulligan was in a stooping position when tlio drill struck him. It hit 1dm back f tho shoulder blade, passt-d clean through the body, narrowly nibsim; his heart, and partly emerged fl'Otl betWffii I ho ribs. Mulligan's horror-stricken imu ratios in the shaft rushed to his assist-am-e ami were about to pull the drill out from his back when Mulligan i-alnw ly seized tho lower end of the drill from where It protruded and by a great f fort pulled it through his body and threw It lown at his feet. It was a wonderful exhibition of strrugth and fortitude, but 'V ryboty wh heard d" the accident was -oiitldent J hat he uild not surviv'. lie hv'rl Vtw'-ir life ami lcath for about thro wet ks, ami llnally got apparently as vU as 'vr. !! worked for ten yan iu tho mines of llutleautl Cranite. but tinally met with a horrible death at tht Ana conda mine ui Nov. -I, 1S1H, by fulling with 'iht ithers from the eng' whilo iK'ing hoisted from the mine." Unite Inter-Mountain. How a Murderer Escaped the (Jailor, i A remarkable criminal trial 7as beeu in progress in Carroll Cotiuty, Va.. for nearly six years. A white man named Tilley wascharge! with having murder. ed a woman anil having burned her body under a brush pile. Tho evidence was purely circumstantial, but strong. and Tilley was condemned to be luing- etl. An appeal was taken and the CtMirt of Appeals set the verdict aside. Again, he was tried ami again condemned to be hanged, to lie once more saved by the Court of Appeals. The Legislature of Virginia passed a law last winter removing such erases from the jurisdiction of the Circuit Court, l'.y a compromise at the term of the Circuit Court which has just ad- joumi'd in Carroll County, between the commonwealth's attorney and TUloys counsel. (Ion. Walker, it was agreed that Tilly could be dlscharginl from the Circuit Court, rearrested and in dicted In the County Court, and that he should be tried for manslaughter and condemned to two ami a half years in the penitentiary. During the live years he has been under sentence Tilley has been conflned in jail, much of the time in an Iron -age and chained to the tloor. Baltimore Sun. Clothing. Clothing should never In? brushed In the house. Physicians distinctly assert that the dust of the street may aud does contain the nust langerous germs of contagious Iiseass, and the greatest care should bo exorcise! that this bist Is not seatteivd through the house, to lind its way into the lungs, and possi bly to carry the seeds of disease. (Jar nients should bo either shaken from a window or carried into the yard and beaten and brushed m a line. llinx'f. A creaking hinge can be cased by the use of a black-lead pencil of th' softest kind, the point, if rubbed Into al the crevic's of tho hinge reducing it to quiet smoot linens. A tug is the ouly thing that kas Its tows behind. ' nv -1 lit VIT 1.1 r r M "SIRS, WHAT MUST I DO TO OE SAVED?" Kcv. lr. Tal mage on the Converted Hicriir-A yueatttm of Incomparable Jmptrttincc-Tlie Cry if 110 Agitated hoiit-A Call to t!ic Uiicoiivcrlc 1. Our Weekly Hcrmon. l'nr the t Irsing iliM otirsc d' the year IJev. Hr. Tahnay;e chose a subject whk-!i Uppeals to the ltiifoiivt rted t ver.v where--viz., 'The riiilippian .lailer." The t x t fcclcettd was. "Sirs, what must 1 do to bo cd".'" Acts xvi.. .".m. Ineari-eratetl in a I'hilippiau peniten tiary, a place cold and dark and damp (iinl loathsome and hideini., iinilliiiuined save by the toivh t' tin olheial who cotnes to m'c if they are alive yet, are two ministers of Christ, their feet fast in in Mnunents of torture, tlieir shoulders drip ping from the stroke of leathern thongs, their niocths hot with iullauitnat in of thirst, tlieir heads faint bet a use they may hot lie down. In a comfortable room of that same building and amid pleasant sur ronndirs is a paid ollieer of the Covi-rn-incnt wlo-e business it is ! supirvise tlie prison. It is nijjit. ami all is still iu the corridors of the ihuueoii have as some muiilerer si niggles with a horrid dream, or a rullini nuns oer in his chains, or there is the rough of a dying consumptive amid the dampness, but sud denly crash go the walNI The two cler gymen pass ml fin. Tho jail keeper, iilthotigh familiar with tho darkness and the hor rors lioverinc ji round the tlunireoii, id startled beyond II bounds, ami, flam beau in ha ml. he rushes through amid .ho falling walls, shouting at the top of lis voic, "Sirs, what must 1 do to be laved?" 1 stand nnv among those who are ask ing the same iiuestioti with more or less earnestness, and I areost you in this eriis of your soul w ith a message from Iieaven. There are those in this audieiiee who might be more skillful iu argument than I inn; there are those here who can dive Into tlcepor depths of science, or have larger knowledge; there are in lliis audi ence those before w hoiu I would willing ly bow as the inferior to the superior, but I yield to no one in this assemblage in a desire to have all the people saved by the power of an omnipotent gospel. Tho I'rccltm if Paul und SiluM. 1 shall proceed to haracletize the ques tion of the agitated jail keeper. And, first, 1 harneterize the iucstion as coiir tcous. He might have rushed in and km M: "Paul and Silas, you vagabonds, lire you tearing dow n this prison ".' Aren't ynu satisfied with disturbing the peaeo of the i-ity by your infamous doctrines'.' And are you now going to destroy public property? Hack with you to your places, ymi vagabonds!" He said no stieh tbitij.:. Tho word of four letters, "sirs," equiva lent. t "lonls," recognized the majesty nud the honor of their mission. Sirs! If a man with a captious spirit tries to find the way to luatn he will miss it. If a man coiifs out ami pronounees all Chris tians as. h.vHM iites, ami the religion of Jesus Christ : a fraud, nml nkt irri tating tpieslioiis about the in t ei ions ami the inserutable, saying, "dune, my wise linn, explain thin and explain that; if his b true, how cau that he true':" no Mich man finds the way to heaven. The (Ueslioii of the text was t!ec lit, courte ous, fci iitleiuiiiil.y, deferential. Hii! Again, 1 characterize this ipiesijon of the agitated Jail keeper by saving that it was a practical tpiestiini. lie did not ask why Cod let sill coue info the World, he did hot ask how Chri-ot could be Cod and inn 11 in the same person, he did not ask tlu doctrine of the decrees explained or want to know whom din married, or what was the -au-e of the earthquake. His present and everlasting welfare was Involved in the tpiestion. :iiid was not that practical? Itut 1 know multitudes of peopl who are bothering themselves about the nonessentials of religion. What would .Mm think of a man who should, while liscussing the quesiion f the light nml hat d the sun, spend his time down In a coal cellar when he might come out nnd si t' the one and feel I In otfier? Yet thor are multitudes of men who. in tlis- russinr the chemist rv of the itosim-I. smc'.ä th'ir time down in the dungeon of their imbcli'-f when Cod all the whib stands tcllim: them to come out into the noonday light nnd warmth of the sun of righteous ness. The piestioii for you. my brother, to discuss is not whethe? Calvin or Ar minias was right, not whether a handful of water in holy baptism or a baptistry is the better, not whether foreeriHiia t ion urn free agency can be harmonized. Tho practical piestion for ynu l liscuss and for me to discuss is, "Whyre will I spend eternity?" A Personal Question. Again, I characterize thU question of the agitated jail keeper, as-one personal to himself. I have no doubt he had manf friends, and he was interesied in their welfare. I have no douht he found that there wt persons in that prison who, if the earthquake had destroyed them, would have found their easv desperate. He is not questioning about them. The whole weight of his quest turns nn the pronoun "I." "What fhutl I doV" Of course, when a man bt-eortu-a a Christian, ho immediately becoiiH-s anxious for the salvation of other peopl a. but until that Ioint is reached the most import ant ques tion is about your own salvation. "What it to bo my destiny?" "What mo my prospects for the future?'' "Where am I going?" "What shall 1 uV?" The trouble is we shulllo the responsibility off upon others. We prophesy :i bail end to that inebriate and terrific ey-osure to that de faulter and awful catastrophe to that profligate. We are fo busy in weighing other poopls we forge 5 ourselves to get in to the scahs. We ivre so busy watching tho poor gardens if other people that we let our own dooryard go to weeds. We nro so bnsv sending off other people into the lifeboat we fink in the wave. We cry "Fiffv!" because our neighbor's house s bnrüüng down and seem to be uninter ested, although our own house is in tliw conflagration. O wandering thougth-t, lisaiiix ar to-dar. Wot out this entire au dience excpt yourself. Your sin, is it I nnr.l.meil? Your death, is it provid 'd for? Your heaven, is it secured? A mightier earthquake than that which demolished the lMiilippian penitentiary will rumble nliout vonr ears. The foundations of the virth will give way. Tho earth by one tremor will Hin;: "H the American -ities Into the dust. Cathedrals ami palaces ft ml prisons which have stol for thou sands of vears will topple like a child's block house. The surges of the s.vi will fuilisierge the land, and the Atlar.t.e ami lvcilie cians above the Alps and the A,lcs ch.n their hands. What then will become of me? What thou will boon-no ' of yon? I th not wonder at the anxiety t1 this man of my text, for lie. win nut only anxious nbov.t the falling of tho pris on, hut the falling of a world. Ih, what a question-what vn import ant question! Is there any question that eompai s with it in importance? What is it now to .Napoleon 111. whether he iri emphed or surrendered at S -dan. whether he die! at 1!,,. Tui'.eries or Cli'iMlhurst. whether ho was emp.-ror or exile? lh t -a use he was hid out iu the collin in tlie dress of a liejd marshal did that give him any better i h.sn.e for the future than if he had been laid out in a plain shroud? What difference will it nn make to you or to mo whether in this world we walked or rode, whether We were bowed to or maltreated, whether we were applaud d or hissed at, welcomed in r kicked out? While laying hold of eery moment of the tutnre and burning iu every splendor or every grief ami overarching or under girdimr all time and all cteinily will be the plain, startling, infinite, stupendous piestion of the text, "What must I do lo be saved";" The riiilippian Jailer. Again. 1 t ha raeteri.e this question of the agitated jiil keeper as one crushed out by his misfortunes, pressed out by his misfort lines. The falling of the peniten tiary, his occupation was gore. Itesid.'S that the flight of a prisoner was ordinari ly the death of the jailer, lb' was h- ld responsible. If all had gone well; if the prison walls had not been shaken of th" earthquake; if the prisom rs had all staid quiet in the stocks; if the morning miu liht had ciliuly dropped on the jail.-r's plilow. do you think he would have hurled this n-tbhot tptcstiou lr.m bis soul into tho ear of his apostolie prison -rs? A!i. no! Yon know as well as I do it was th earth quake that noised him up. And it is trouble t).;n diirts a gn at many p. i to asking tho same question. It has boon so w itli a multitude of you. Your appar el is not as bright as it once was. Why have you changed the garb? I o you nt like sollVriiio and crimson sunl purple ;:s Well as oi;oc? Yes, but you s. iv : "While 1 was prospered and happy those colors were accordant with my feelings. Now the.v would he discord to my sold." And so you have plaited up the shadows int i your apparel. The world is a very lif feretit place from what is was once for you! nnce you said, "Oh. if I could only have it quiet a little while!" It is loo tptiet. Some people say that thoy would not bring back their departed friends from heaven even if they had the opportunity, but if you had the opportunity you would bring back your loved ones, and soori their feet would be sounding in t lie hall, and soon their voices would Im heard in the family, and the old limes would come back just as the festal days of Christmas ami Thanksgiving-days gone forever. Mi, it is tlie earthquake that startled you 10 asking this piestion the earthquake of domestic misfortune. Heath is so cruel, so devouring, so relentless, that when it swallows up our loved ones we must have some one to whom wo can carry our torn and bleeding hearts. We need a balsam better than anything that ever exuded from earthly tree to heal tho pang of the soul. It is pleasant to have our friends gather around us and tell us how sorry lliey are ami try t br'ak up the loneli Iitss, but nothing but the huiul of .Ii s is Christ can take tho bruised soul and put it iu his I oso tu, hurdling it with th" lullaby of heaven. brother! sister! The gravestone will n'-r be lifted from your heart until Christ lifts it. Was j Hot tho loss of your 1'ricrnfs. or the perse ciition of your eiiem'us, r the overthrow of your worldly estato-wns it lud an cartnpiako that started joii out to ask this stupt ndoiis question of my let V How to (iel it 11 A o wer. U I remark again. I haracteri'.o this question of the agitated jail keeper as hasty, urgent and immediate. He put it on tli. run. lty the light of his torch as ho go. to look for the apostles behold Ids face, the startled look g.ud sie the earnestness. .No tine can doubt by that look that the man is in earnest. He must have Mtat question answered U.d'ore the earth stops rot king, or perhaps ho will never iave it answered at nil. Is that the way, my brother, my sister, yoa i:re putting tliis question? Is iL oa the run? Is it hasty? Is it urgent? bs it imme diate? If it is not, it will not ho answer ed. That is the only kind of question that is nswered. It is the urgent und :h. immediate question of the gospel thrist answcis. A great many are unking this question, but they tlrawl it out, and there is indifference in their manner as if thoy do not mean it. Make it an urgent ques tion, and then you will have it auctvvcrod before an hour passes. Vho:i a man with ali the arnestness of his soul cries out for Cod, ho tinds him, and linds him right a ray. Oh, i re there not in this-hnu.v to-day those who are postponing until the List hour ol living tho attending to the things of tho soul?" I give it as my opinion that nincty-.v.no out of the hundred deathbed repent i. trees amount to nothing. Of all the soorrs of persons mentioned as tlying in the Itible. of how many do yon r"ad that they successfully repented in ho last lu'tir? ::o? .No. OföO? No. Of 4o? Xo. Of Of IM? Xo. Of lO? Xo. of : Xo. Of lonly 1, bandy 1, as if to demonstrate the fact that there is a bare possibility of repenting, in the last hour. Hut that is improbable, awfully improvable, terrifically improbable. One hundrfsl to tno against tin1 man. If. my brother, my sister, you have ever seen a ma; try to repnt in tlie last hour, you have-se'H something very saI. I do not know anything on earth so said as to see a ma; try to nqient on a tlearhied. There is mit from the moment that life begins to Ltreathe in infancy to tlu last ga.-q such an unfavorable, coinphrtly unfavor able, hour for repentance uts tho doo.th hour, the last hour. Thejo are tho doe tor: standing with the medicines. There is tlie lawyer standing with the half written will. There is the family ia oii sternattnii as to what ii. to beeom-.' of tSwm. All tliT bells o eternity ringing the soul tuit .f the bo.lv. All the past rising before us ami all tho future. Oh, that man is :tn infinite fool who procras tinates to the deathbed his repentance! Twelve Open tlatcn. My text Ines not answer tlie question. It only asks it. with tlep and importu nate -arnostness asks it, ami, according to th' rules of sermonizing, you would say, "Adjourn that to some other hue." Itut I dare not. What are the rules t.f sermonizing to me when I am after souls? What other timi' could 1 have, when per haps this is the only time? This uiiglit be my hist time for praching. This might be your last time for hearing. After my friend in Fhiladelphia died his childrt-u gave his church Itible to me. and I read it; looked over it with much interest. I saw in the margin written in load pencil. ".Mr. Ta Imago said this morn ing that tho most useless thing in all Cod's universe is that any sinner should perish." 1 did 11 t remember saying it. but it is true, ami I r-ay it now, wheiiw 1 said it then or not. The most usel .-s thing in all Cod's universe is that any sinner should perish. Twelve gates w ido open. Have you uot l.car J hew Christ bore our sorrows a..! how sympathetic ho is wiili all our woes? Have yoa not hear l how that with all tho irnnws of the le-art and all the agonies of Jvll upon him he tried: "Father, forgive them. They know mt what limy do?" llj I. is feet blistered of the uiouulaiu way, by hi back whipped ti :ii il the skia an; off, by his death comb of fmr spikes, two for the hinds and two for the feet, by his sepulcher. iu wli'n h for the first tiun for thirty-three years tin cruel world let him alone, and by the heavens from which ho now bends iu compassion, offering par Ion and peace and life eternal to all jtut souls, I beg of you put tlowii your a.; at his feet. I saw one hanging on a tree 1 11 agony jind blood, Who tixc'l his languid eyes on uu As near ids cross 1 tood. Oh. never till my latest breath Will I forget that look. It soone-d to charge nie with his death, Though not a word he spoke. Condemned to lc:itli. In the troubled times of Soot hud Sil .lohn Cochrane was condemned to death by the king. The death warrant was u tin; way. Sir .John Cochrane wis bid ding farewell to his daughter Orh'.d at the prison door, lie said: "Farewell, my thirling child. I must tlie." Iii tia 11 die.' liter said. "Xo. father, you shall not "Itut." ho said, "the king is against me. and tho law is after me, and the death warrant is on its way. and I must tlie. 1' not deeeixo yourself, my dear t hild." Tho daughter said. "Father. yi hall not die," as she left tho prison gate. At night, on the m.n.rs of Scotland, a dis- gtuVtd wayfarer st i waiting for tht horseman carrying tho mnilh.igs contain ing the death warrant. The disguised wayfarer, as the horse t amo by, chitchd the bridle nud shouted to t he rider - to 1 ha man who carried the mailbags, "IM-, mount!" He felt for his arms and was about to shoot, but the wayfarer jorkel him from Ids saddle, and lie fell liat. The wayfarer picked up the mailhags, put them on his shoulder and vanished iu tint darkness, ami fourteen days were thu gained for the prisoner's life, tlurin which the father confessor was pleading for the pardon of Sir .lohn Cochrane. The secoml time the death warrant is on its way. The disguised wayfarer come along and asks for a little broad : ml a little wiii starts mi across the moors, ami they sny: "Poor man. to have o ; out on uch a stormy night. It is dark, and you will lose yourself on the moors." "Oh. no," he says. "I will not!" Hn trudged on ami stopped amid the bramble and waitol for the horseman to con 10 carrying the mailbags containing tho death warr.int of Sir John Cochrane. The mail rirrier spurred on his stood, for ho was fourful because of what iia I occurred tn th former journey, spurred on his steed. hen suddenly through tint storm ami through the darkness thorn was a Hash id firearms, and the hors. became umuanagt able, :iid as the m id carrier discharged his pistol in respousn the horse Hung Ii tin. and the disguised wayfarer put Iii- foot o flu breast of t ho overt hrown rider nml said, "Surren der now!" The mail 'arrier surrendered his arms, ami the disguised wayfarer put iioii his shoulders tin' pviilhags, leaped upon the horse ami sped away into thi darkness, gaining fourteen trioie lajs .r ihe 1 r prisoner. Sir .lohn Cochrane, and before the foiirb-eii ,as had pirel pardon had come from the Ling. TN tloor of th prison swung o'fi, ami Sir .lohn Cochrane was free. One day whet hi was standing amid his frh-mls, t'iey fougrntulating him, tho disguise way fa ivr appeared at the gate, and he siii "Admit him right away." Pardon from tlie Thron', Tho disguised wayfarer eaa;e in and said: "Here are two letters. Itea.l them, sir, and cast thetu into the lire" Sir loha Cochrane read them. They worn his two death warrants, ami he threw tlicta into the lire. Then said Sir .io!ui t 'oehraiie: To whom am I im'.eli'c.i? Who is this poor wayfarer that saved my life? Who is it?" And the wayfarer pulled aside and pulled otT tht jrkin and cloak ami tho hat, ami, lo, it waj Crixel, the daughter of Sir.lohn Cochmne. "Cra cioiis heaven," ho cried, "my child, my savior, my own Criel!" Itut a morn thrilling story. The death warrant ha I otne birth from tho King of le aven and earth. The death warrant rend. -Tho soul that siuiieth, it shall die." Tim death warrant coming on the black borst of eternal night. We must die. We must tlie. I'ut breasting the storm ami put ting out through the darkness was a dis guised wayfarer who gripped by the bri dle tho oncoming doom ami thing it ick and put his wounded ami bleeding foot 01 the overthrown rider. Mean wliilo pardon Uasbetl from the thron, and, Co free! Open the gate! Strike off l!m chain! Co free! And to-day your lih--r-r.tod soul stands in the presence tif tlu dis guised wayfarer, and as ho pulls oif ihn disguise of his earthly humiliation, and the lisguiso of his thorns, and tho dis guise of the seamiest robe, ywj find U bone of your bono, flesh f your '.!osh, your Itrothor. your Christ, yonr pardon, your eternal life. Lot all on rt h and hoav n break forth in vociferation. Victory through our Lord JVsus Christ! A guilty, weak. and. helpless worm, t n thy kind arm L fall, lie thou my strength and rihbtnisnosj, My Jesus ami my all. Th; YaliM' of theTurqtioia. Tho most inqiortant precious stono of the Cuitcd Statics, commercially speaking, is turqtiois. In IS. Ml thero was miiusl of it In this ouintry $10), (100 worth; in 1S", SIT.". Hi worth; in ISP.". $U.",MHi. wüiirtlv. Immense b'ios its of it, some of which were wrkvl anciently by tW Indians, have been found in Arizona ami Xew Mexico. Keceiitly a new mine was discovered In Texas, to the jtrtli tif FI Paso. Where as the aborigines, long before the tirst coming of th white man, ttok out the turquois by ihe crudest methods, build ing fires against the rocks to crack them, the leposits to-lay are atta kol ou scientific principles and are made to yield st.es otpial to the finest Per sian, dcius up to CO carats w eight and valuoil at Jsl.tHM) each have Wvn cut from t bein. A gtvat advantage whie they have over most ImporUtl turquoU is that they do not change color. Ow ing to the stringency of the times, how ever, tho output of turqmds in this -oun-try in 1S1H was worth only S.".tHH. Tho lntistiuittvs of tho world are be lh'vod to number about 1Ö0 species. They attain their greatest si.o in thn tropics, but nowhere ar thoy m.oro numerous r bloodthirsty than ia ihe far Xorth, as in Alaska, duriu; tho brief summer ÖC those regions.