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s a ··-·-·y4..~·~·~ ....- r- ;y ~- ~ VOLUME VIII. LAKE PROVIDENCE, EAST CARROLL PARISH, LA., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1895. -_ THE FOUR VOICES. A By sober Brown Beard, who is said to have ..Y seen Of winters and summers some thirty-and seven It Tripped lightly Gold Tresses, of sweet seven teen, "" The fairest creature on this side of [leaves "How pleasant the evening breezes that stir Ar The rustling leaves, as the woods grow diml" Such aimless words sptke his lips to her; I' But his heart was muttering low to him: maa "Oh, that the summer of life were springl con Oh, to have foundl her long summers ago! sort is it yet too late? Would this sweet young trot thing Give the hope of her youth to-? No, ah, sheo no!" ", ble "Yes, pleasant it *.", when the woods grow all dim, tim To hear the sound of the leaves that st!?i" lite Such trivial word.; aid her lips to him. to But her heart was whispering low to her: lug "Is there ever a man like the man that I see- so t A man like the Bsyard of ages ago? anu He thinks me childish and foolish: sh. met Could he really care for--? No, sh, no:!" cha Quoth his lips: "Good night, you now are S home." b Prayed his heart: "God love her, whose ever she be" th Said her lips: "Good night, you were kind tur to come." rar Sighed her heart: "No. he never, could never het love m?" -Truthb W - ten FROI COO ROCK. cia BY MAY D. ATtCH. He brt It was variously desigflated the r "Turtleback," the "Turtledove," and sometimes merely the "Dove." The old mc salts of the island knew it only as the his Turtleback rock, named for its decided str resemblance to the shining brown shell of of a monster tortoise protruding from the water; but oa account of its charm ing security for a tete-a-tete and for the appreciation it met with from those who were strong enough swimmers to es enjoy its advantages the name which had been given to it for its crustacean th likeness was usually prverted into the ca simple, melodious appellation: "Coo he rock." Indeed, so general had this be term become that even the Venerable at guests of the Shawkemo house, dis- all cnusing the tide which covered it pretty well at the full, would call it so in all of seriousness, possibly confusing it, men- sti tally spelled with a K, with the various ti Indian names with which the island abounded, or believing it had refer in ence, spelled with a C, to the gentle rid lapping of the waves about it. to It was Monday morning. Most of Ij, the men who had come to spend Sun- t1e day on the island had returned to be town, three hours distant by rail; and, Rg although the day was exquisitely clear and beautiful and the bay rejoiced in a wi thousand shifting blues in the sun- th shine, the bathers were few-a half an dozen boys at the school age turning an back-somersaults off the float, some th children paddling around in the wet lit hand with their clothes tucked up be- th hind out of the wet like cock feathers, an and a staid matron or two near shore, in mildly bobbing up and down incased ah in flannel and bathers' hats. of As Marie Trask walked down the K fidat for her morning plunge she au nodded to the boys, looked out over the water, and sat down a moment on so the edge to try its temperature. She b flit a little lonely, a little depressed; she swung her feet-irreproachable in siaze in shape, and in black silk stock- b ings-lazily in the water, and medi- re tated. yt She was a comely object for the wa- nt ter to reflect; a trim, redte, girlish hi figure in a well-fitting black bathing e1 suit, her blonde skin browned by the et outdoor life she was leading, her eyes at clear gray, a small nose which had a , tendency to be Roman, a sweet, happy n mouth that was quick to smile and show the white teeth that had not yet lost their baby unevenness at the edges, and, crowning all, her sunny blonde hair; not so much of it, but it crinkled and rippled over her head in a suuc'h a fashion that no one came near her but wanted tolay a hand on it and r.ooth it down a bit, just to feel how soft and silky it wasv , lhe looked over toward the rock; it wns quite a distance out in the little harbor, and the tide ran rapidly there at the turn. It was about full now, but it would be slack water for some time yet, and she thought she would try it. elhe had been out there often, but never, alone. She was a strung swimmer for a girl, and destitute of fear; but always before to-day there had been someone to go with her. She slipped off the float; the water was perfectly clear and just cooler than the air. With strong, quiet strokes she started for the rock as a goal; half-way out she grew a little tired, floated a few minutes to rest, and then swam on. It seemed much further than usual; but always before she had been diverted on the way with manly converse, or given a friendly hand if she were tired. At last she reached it, pulled herself eagerly up to the highest bulging point of the rock, and gave a sigh of satisfaction- She turned her back to the shore and looked out at the hill-clasped harbor. What a perfect day it wast She was irritated with herself for being blue, but how could she help it when other people made idiots of themselves? What a stupid thing for her not to have looked through the book, any vay, before she had lent it to him; but at least she had discovered ia time what jealous, doubting friend she had alimot enusented to marry. She aremT-bered every word of the letter lshe had foand witing for her that mornlng, It ran: ,'Dsl MA2 Whlea you loaned me Dob S's ee ast sit, I do Se think yeo haet hat left the tailosed verses inthe tek. perhas I should sot have read them Ig he should not, Iric thohtia. last I hare s ae SO they sag that a woman's Ia stt~at is gltk to res at the truth; a men am that tiasc wew be lowvesra the sai ensert Jack.' I kLMew at oue they wue rerom Jeeb UA'erto. sa thas he muse have wIrLiam sI oo sea whks you left the Edgroa eamp te#en weeks se l tre weehksl It s1 - aed m m* thitak he had the lIht tosa a tIhip so you eekh a Ittle while ego san .,, sad you save let me believe you loin -I i yll leav on th g:U thls UorM And the verses--"Dear Eyes," they e were called: B So mni /, ees meet mine each day Farnest and tender, and eyes that amils T 0: dark without hope, and all the while I think of you who have gone away. "1 long so to look In your eyes, dear, . Your eyes that speak to my soul until 7li The cry of earth's loneliness grows still As I draw you so near,-so near." She had never known Jack could make a rhyme till these verses had come to her. Dear, honest Jack! how sorry he would be if he knew all the fo1 ` trouble he had brought about. Not, o y, she could scarcely hold him responsi- on ble for her present discomfort-it was all her own carelessness; and the next vii time she indulged in the exchange of literature site would shake the volume ing to its foundations to exorcise all lurk- sat lung imps that might do her ill. One is so - so apt to tuck things away in a book it and then forget all about them. Yet, or after all, he might have given her a wI chance to explain. th re She was aroused from her reverie St or by the soft rush of waters parted by ar tho even stroke of strong arms. Marie lo ad turned her head shoreward; a man was w rapidly swimming toward her. The ta °L head looked very familiar, but he had br written her he was going on the eight ti ten. A few more strokes and there fa was no doubt of his identity; she at turned her gaze again out to sea. He ti clambered up on the rock beside her. et He was a superb creature, with limbs ra bronze and shining as one of Gerome's or Arabs Lie looked like some radiant w de river god with a dash of water on his pl chestnut hair, his eyes as blue as the tt Id morning sea, and with that beauty in fI his face that comes from conscious cc strength and kindliness and the glory l of youth and vigorous, overflowing life. ti 'm "Good-morning, Marie." fi o She had not yet looked at him, but a or she met his gaze now with a half smile. e "I thought you were going on the a eight ten." ch "I started," he answered, "crossed i an the ferry, went to the station, and s he came back. Why did you come out ai oo hers alone? You should have known als better, the tide is running out now, 1I Xle and the swim back will be a hard pull r is- all the way." l1 y "I am quite capable of taking care a of myself," she answered, somewhat d o' stimly, "and if you are afraid of the S us tide you would better go in at once." L nd Be was aistonished to find her adopts v er ing an injured tone; if anyone had a s e right to be hurt, he surely was the one I to enjoy the privilege of that position. Lt of lie looked at her despairingly; the lit- h in- tle curls, dried b3 the sun and wind, a to beckoned maddingly. He forgot his l gd, grievance for a moment t a "When Venus came ashore on the 1 1 waves," he said, keeping his eyes on R m- the curls, "Zephyrus blew her there, 1 and before he left her he hovered about 11 ng and kissed her until her hair, which I no the sea had wet, was dry and shining I ret like silk; but it always kept the crinkle c the motion of the waves had given it, t rs, and all true daughters of Venus have t re, inherited that ripple of the waves ever c 'ed since. That is the story I always think a of," he finished, seeking now her clear I he gray eyes, "when I see your hair in the c he sun, Marie." rer She laughed gayly. "It seems to me I on some one else is dipping into poetry c ,he besides poor Jack." ed; His brow darkened. "Don't make a in joke of it," he said; "the blood has ek been boiling in my veins ever since I read it. 1 don't blame Jack for loving I you, nor for writing it to you I ought e- not to have read it; but the thought of ish his having his arm about you, as it ing clearly implies, and that you have the cared for him, perhaps care for him yes still, has driven me almost beside my ,d a self. If you have any pity for me tell PPy me the truth, or let me go." mnd "You may go," she spoke coldly; "I yet will not keep you." the "See; we are here." he said, "nuder Sit the free sky, with the pure clear water, all about us, close to honest nature, Lear and life would be so good to me if-is ear there always to be an if?-if only I Wnd knew the truth and that it is not what I thought-that yon do not care for him." "I am very fond indeed of Jack; and as for the verses, I think they are aere charming, and that any girl should be Low, happy to inspire a man like that" omd Darrell groaned. "You are more frivolous than I believed, and you have ten, not been true to either of us." "I think I will swim in," she said. here She slipped off the rock and struck out for the shore. lie followed her silent ater ly, keeping his eyes upon her, for the er tide was making hard out to sea. ler "Don't try and buck against the uet tide," he called; "let it carry you sa down. Just swim for the shore; you waste your strength that way." He rest, was swimming close beside her now. f "If I needed it," she asked, "would withyou be strong enough to tow me in?" ndlyHe laughed grimly. "Trj me," he she answered. He took both her hands in his, swim rk, ming easily on his back; to this healthy She young giant her added weight was and nothing. They went rushing through the water at what seemed a terrific rbor. ate of speed to the girl whose endur was ance had already been taxed by the er swimming, and the sense of security and strength it gave her was a deli clous relief. t to At last they reached the float; the ;t little boys were tearing up and down Sthe sand doing jumping "stental She tim let go of his hands and he lifted her Sheasily to the float. She was quite pale; tter perhap there had been some nervous that strain in her unusual exhaustion. "Don't you feel well?" he asked, as he stood beside her, taking long, deep ho breaths after his exertion. n e She put out a small, wet hand to them him which he gladly took in his own 1 damp grasp. "I should never have a gotten in alone," She said, eatehbhgher esig breath a little, "'sq I eannote bhorrid Sf to you any mor. That book belged rrtWs to my Coasin Molhie, but se doe not CP w ant to aneasnee her eagagemenat to to sa Jack till the ftsL"--Dearests Map- -tie taereas, of wealh Ia tWig "On w00p..Jtwlord~n wee. P~~ r TALMAGL'S ;SERMON. r i. ing have The Vision and the Death of Ste- and phen, the Mdrtyr. neveL Loo na ull live Beautifrl Ihlltares-LboklIu Into Himri )leavn-The Stonnlog of tihe Ste- the pehs of the Present Day- that "The Lost sheep. voice 1 - come r erv. T. DeWitt Talmage selects the deaf. following discourse on "Five Pictures" all ' for publication this week. It is based saved V on the text: else. Behold I see the heavens opened.-Acts eman t vtii., . ye w f Stephen had been preaching a rosa- tory, e ing sermon, and the people could not the *- stand it. They resolved to do as men and a sometimes would like to doin this day, cast t If they dared, with some plain preach- oh, ,r of righteousness-kill him. The only take a way to silence this man was to knock of t the breath out of him. So they rushed and e Stephen out of the gates of the city, rags Y and with curse, and whoop, and bel- your e low, they brought him to the cliff, as talk: as was the custom when they wanted to pard 6 take away life by stoning. Having that d brought him to the edge of the cliff, I h( It tley pushed him off. After he had same *e fallen they came and looked down, look ie and, seeing that he was not yet dead, my le they began to drop stones upon him, don. r. stone after stone. Amid this horrible pror 's rain of missiles, Stephen clambers up liim 's on his knees and folds his hands, thre it while the blood drips from his tem- none is ples; and then, looking up, he makes one! le two prayers--one for himself and one the in for his murderers. "Lord Jesus, re- Blch 15 ceive my spirit;" that was for himself. lie 7 "Lord, lay not this sin to their charge;" the e. that was for his murderers. Then, arol from pain and loss of blood,he swooned thrc at away and fell asleep. Hi: e. I want to show you to-day five pict- Su se ures. I Stephen gazing into Heaven. Stephen stoo td looking at Christ. Stephen stoned. to g ad Stephen in his dying prayer. Stephen is at asleep. vitl ra First, look at Stephen gazing into city v, Heaven. Before you take a leap you pice 11 want to know where you are going to drol land. Before you climb a ladder you met re want to know to what point the lad- the at der reaches. And it was right that rebl se Stephen, within a few moments of mu] Heaven, should be gazing into it. We of a it- would all do well to be found in the adu a same posture. There is enough in phe so Heaven to keep us gazing. A man of goo ti. large wealth may have statuary in the wil it- hall, and paintings in thesitting room, suf d, and works of art in all parts of toe a m ils house, but he has the chief pictures in She the art gallery, and there hour after dut he hour you walk with catalogue and she on glass and ever-increasing admiration. abt re, Well, Heaven is the gallery where God I ut has gathered the chief treasures of bee ch His realm. The whole universe is His dol ng palace. In the lower room where res tle we stop there are many adornments; bol it, tessellated floor of amethyst, and on sol vo the winding clond-stairs are stretched car or out canvas on which commingle azure, vol nk and purple, and saffron, and gold. But tl1 ar Heaven is the gallery in which the hil he chief glories are gathered. There are dei the br;ghtest robes. There are the to me richest crowns. There are the high- spi ry eat exhilarations. St. John says of it: to "The kings of the earth shall bring sti a their honor and glory into it." And I sas see the procession forming, and in the mc 0I line come all empires, and the stars ag ug spring up into an arch for the hosts to ne; ,ht march under. They keep step to the try of sound of earthquake and the pitch of the it avalanche from the mountains, and no ve the flag they bear is the flame of a mi im consuming world, and all Heaven de turns out with harps and trumpets do ll and myriad-voiced acclamations of wi angelic dominions to welcome them in, yo ., and so the kings of the earth bring th their honor and glory into it. Do you su wonder that good people often stand, mi like Stephen, looking into Heaven? ne er' We have many friends there. de ire, There is not a man so isolated in life pe -s but there is some one in Heaven with bh t I whom he once shook hands. As a man te or gets older, the number of his celestial or acquaintances very rapidly multiplies. fu We have not had one glimpse of them m and since the night we kissed them good- gi e by. and they went away; but still we Ii stand gazing at Heaven. As when di some of our friends go across the sea, re ore we stand on the dock, or on the steam di ve tug, and watch them, and after awhile a1 the hulk of the vessel disappears, and di aid. there is only a patch of sail on the sky, h out and soon that is gone, and they are all as ent out of sight, and yet we stand looking 1 the in the same direction; so when our p friends go away from us into the fu- o the ture world we keep looking down b you through the Narrows, and gazing and ti you gazing se though we expected that s e they would come out and stand on some cloud, and give us one glimpse of 1l onld their blissful and transfigured faces. ?" While you long to join their com-n he panionship, and the years and the days a go with such tedium that they break i im- your heart, and the vipers obtain, and t Ithysorrow, and bereavement keep gnaw- ii was ing at your vitals, you will stand, like d tugh Stephen, gazing into Hesven. You t rile wonder if they have changed sincea dr- you saw them last You wonder if a the they would recognize your face now, I irty so changed has it been with trouble. I del- You wonder if, amid the myriad de- a lights they have, they care as much a he for youa Pa they used to when they lown gave you a helping hand and put their c She shoulder under your burdens. You a ) her wonder if they look any older; and pale; sometimes in the evening-tide, when i 'ous the house is all quiet, you wonder if you should call them by their irst , as name if they would not answer; sad deep perhaps sometimes you do make the experimeant, and when no one but God a d to and yoursealnf are there you distinotly wn cal their names and listen, and it have gazsla ito Beaven. ghe Pass on now aud aee Stephen look ia iag pa Chrbist My text says he saw ed the iSoa of Ien at the right haad of snot God Just how Christ looked in this at to w.rld, jst bow He looks in Heaven, m w esa not. oay. The palnters of the 44tet~et ares hare tried to imagine the featPre of Christ abd pat them M I Po u e h uit we vt have to wait *les ttR W1* Os? owO eye we s Rlm ia$ with t~ 95 w wivy Him. And yet there is a way of see- There ing Him anti hearing him now. I quies have to tell you that unless you see and ye - and hear Christ cn earth, you will head n never see or hear flim in Heaven. spruce, Look! There lie is! Behold the lug fir; Lamb of God! Can you not see Stephe o i im? Then pray to God to take that to the scales off your eyes. Look What that way-try to look that way. Ills What voice comes down to you this day- way. j comes down to the blindest, to the of our e deafest soul, saying: "Look unto me, ed for I all ye ends of the earth, and be ye I do d saved, for I am God, and there is none body t else." Proclamation of universal you be is emancipation for all slaves. Tell me, tion. ye who know most of the world's his- wrapp - tory, what other king ever asked with e it the abandoned, and the forlorn, fore I n and the wretched, and the out- out wl F, cast to come and sit beside him? for thi - Oh, wonderful invitation! You can when .y take it to-day. and stand at the head swers k of the darkest alley in all this city, thong d and say: "Come! Clothes for your tween V. rags, salve for your sores, a throne for could 1- your eternal reigning." A Christ that there !s talks like that, and acts like that, and Jesus to pardons like that-do you wonder I got ig that Stephen stood looking at Him? could II hope to spend eternity doing the dcr. d same thing. I must see lim; I must to cro n, look upon that face once clouded with Then d, my sin, but how radiant with my par- ing 11 n, don. I want to hear the voice that spirit he pronounced my deliverance. Behold will b 'p Ilim, little children, for if you live to It ma Is, three-score years and ten, you will see able t n- none so fair. Behold Him, ye aged has se es ones; for lie only can shine through be to( ne the dimness of your failing eyesight. praye "e- Behold Ilim, earth. Behold Him, John If. leaven. What a moment, when all of ag the natious of the saved shall gather his he n, around Christ! All faces that way. All ed thrones that way, gazing on Jesus. Hits worth if all the nations knew We Ct- Sure the whole earth would love Him, too. eithe I pass on now, and look at Stephen this l en stoned. The world has always wanted so co d. to get rid of good men. Their very life hensi en is an assault upon wickedness. Out that: with Stephen through the gates of the Oh, ito city. Down with him over the preci- swee on pices. Let every man come up and cleve to drop a stone upon his head. But these treat on men did not so much kill Stephen as deset td- they killed themselves. Every stone dying fat rebounded upon them. While these light of murderers were transfixed by the scorn have Ve of all good men, Stephen lives in the ing a he admiration of all christendom. Ste- largi in phen stoned, but Stephen alive. So all dying of good men must be pelted. "All who years .he will live godly in Christ Jesus must when in. suffer persecution." It is no eulogy of up h ,te a man to say that everybody likes him. into in Show me any one who is doing all his Pa ter duty to state or church, and I will one end show you scores of men who utterly asdlc on. abhor him. peeu od If all the men speak well of you it is of S of because you are either a laggard or a you Ells dolt. If a steamer makes rapid prog- sleet ere ress through the waves, the -water will falli its; boil and foam all around it. Brave stree on soldiers of Jesus Christ will hear the plac fed carbines click. When I see a man with text ire, voice, and money, and influence all on dese But the right side, and some caricature so c4 the him, and some sneer at him, and some Step are denounce him. and men who pretend His the to be actuated by right motives eon- the gh- spire to cripple him, to cast him out, he Sit: to destroy him, I say: "Stephen feet ing stoned." of si Id 1 When I see a man in some great will the moral or religious reform battling do .ars against grogshops, exposing wicked- live Sto ness in high places, by active means the the trying to purify the church and better bori i of the world's estate, and I find that the over and newspapers anathematize him, and the f a men, even good men, oppose him and the ven denounce him, because, though he The ets does good, he does not do it in their wel of way, I say: "Stephen stoned." But hur Sin, you notice, my friends, that while plei uing they assaulted Stephen they did not wai you succeed really in killing him. You Tin snd, may assault a good man, but you can The ren? not kill him. On the day of his the death, Stephen spoke before a few to life people in the Sanhedrim; this Sab- hin rith bath morning he addresses all Chris- die, man tendom. Paul the apostle stood I atal on Mars' hill addressing a hand- his lies. ful of philosophers who knew not so abi hem much about science as a modern school rat ood- girl. To-day he talks to all the mil- dyi Swe lions of Christendom about the won- P ,hen ders of justification and the glories of his sea, resurrection. John Wesley was howled Iel eam down by the mob to whom he preached, twi rhile and they threw bricks at him, and they ope and denounced him, and they spat upon No sky, him, and yet to-day, in all lands, he is Hn *e all admitted to be the great father of I king Methodism. Booth's bullet vacated the to our presidential chair; but from that spot by a fu- of coagulated blood on the floor in the be town box of Ford's theater there sprang up thi and the new life Of a nation. Stephen wi that stoned, but Stephen alive. mc d on Will the soul have to travel through wi se of long deserts before it reaches the good wl :es. land? If we should lose our pathway. Ye om- will there be a castle at whose gate we m days may ask the way to the city? Oh. this ne areak mysterious spirit within us! It has th ,and two wings, but it is in a cage now. It an naw- is locked fast to keep it; but let the Cl like door of the carge open the least and go You that soul is off. Eagle's wing could ha since not catch it. The lightnings are not o er if swift enough to come up with it. a now, When the soul leavesthe body it takes d foie. ffty worlds at a bound. And have I no ga d de- anixiety about it? Have you no anxiety ,i much about it? me they Pass on now, and see Stephen in his c their dying prayer. His first thought was You not how the stones hurt his head, nor de and what would become of his body. Iia in when Afrst thought was about his spirit. r if "Lord Jesus receive my spirit." The first murderer standing on the trap door, sad the black cap being drawn over his e the had before the executlon, may grim It Godsee about the future, but you and I lotly have no shame in confesing aome t sit anxiety about where we are golng to come out. You are not all body. lok- There is within you a soul I see it ] a saw gleam from your eyes to-day, a0dI ad of I see it iradlating your eoanto- u a this nne. Somasetimes I am abashed di sven, beforea audience, not becanse I enme II of the nader your phystal eypight, bat be- 8 sagin. case I ralize the trasth that I stand them before so aw immortal spirits. The Swit probalty Is that your e"dy will at eat. t. .st tb m . lek o m n s t th e h ) wa su.metwre thiessn'pt, $bteste There is no doubt but that your obso- PE quies will be decent and respectful, e and you will be able to pillow your II head under the maple, or the Norway spruce, or the cypress, or the blossom- rco ' e ing fir; but this spirit about which " e Stephen prayed, what direction will tom e that take? What guide will escort it? plor Ik What gate will open to receive ititratio is What cloud will be cleft for its path Arts - way. After it has got beyond the light lowsl e of our sun, will there be torches light- -k e, ed for it the rest of the way? a hb e I do not care what you do with my ago ie body when my soul is gone, or whether ning il you believe in cremation or inhuma- The e, tion. I shall sleep just as well in a his I s- wrapping of sackcloth as insatin lined third d with eagle's down. But my soul-be- abou a, fore I close this discourse I will And erati t- out where it will land. Thank God head ?7 for the intimation of my text. thba - in when we die Jesus takes us. That am odisi td swers all questions for me. What Vert y, though there were massive bars be- tend ar tween helre and the city of light. Jesus at ti or could remove them. What though year at there weregreat Saharas of darkness, mini Id Jesus could illume them. What though to I er I got weary on the way. Christ sire n? could lift me on His omnipotent shoal- send is der. What though there were chasms st to cross, Ilis hand could transport me. Tar th Then let Stephen's prayer be my dy- who ir- lig litany: "Lord, Jesus, receive my is in at spirit." It may be in that hour we gray Id will be too feeble to say a long prayer. Frai to It may be in that hour we will not be rare ee able to say the "Lord's Prayer," for it offe ed has seven petitions. Perhaps we may side h be too feeble even to say the infant BuEat it. prayer our mothers taught us, which glas m, John Quincy Adams, seventy yearn of all of age, said every night when he put ten er his head upon his pillow: sub ill Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. We may be too feeble to employ :im either of the these familiar forms; but caps en this prayer of Stephen is so short, is tut ed so concise, is so earnest, is so compre ife hensive, we surely will be able to say ant that: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." is 1 he Oh, if that prayer is answered, how ord ci- sweet it will be to diet This world is naj nd clever enough to us. Perhaps it has - tse treated us a great deal better than we is as deserved to be treated; but if on the Ste one dying pillow their shall break the and ese light of that better world, we shall lin 'rn have no more regret than about leav- wit Lhe ing a small, dark, damp house for one wil te- large, beautiful, and capacious. That strt all dying minister in Philadelphia, some wil rho years ago, beautifully depicted it wea nst when, in the last moment, he threw spi of up his hands and cried out: "I move twL im. into the lightl" net his Pass on, now, and I will show you - vill one more picture, and that is Stephen pal rly asleep. With a pathos of simplicity yet peculiar to the Scriptures, the textsays -0o t is of Stephen: "Hle fell asleep." "Oh." ly r a you say, "what a place that was to Is 'ox- sleep!" A hard rock under him, stones Sp vill falling down upon him, the blood it ave streaming, the mob howling. What a In the place it was to sleepl" And yet my bu ;ith text takes that symbol of slumber to pn on describe his departure, so sweet was it, p are so contented was it, so peaceful was it. all me Stephen had lived a very laboriouslife. at end His chief work had been to care for of :on- the poor. How many loaves of bread gl at, he had distributed, how many bare hen feet he had sandaled, how many cots of sickness and distress be had blessed reat with ministries of kindness and lore, I ling do not know; yet from the way he he ked- lived, and the way be preached, and m; sans the way he died. I know he was a la- st ttcr borious Christian. But that is all the over now. He has pressed the cup to fr and the last fainting lip, lie has taken th and the last insult from his enemies. or t he The last stone to whose crushing Ti heir weight he is susceptible has been But hurled. Stephen is dead. The disci- w phile ples come! They take him up! They SI not wash away the blood from the wounds. g You Ttey straighten out the bruised limbs. Ican They brush back the tangled hair from his the brow, and then they pass around few to look upon the calm countenance of Sab- him who had lived for the poor and b hris- died for the truth. Stephen asleep! el tood I saw such an one. He fought all and- his days against poverty and against at so abuse. They traduced his name. They hool rattled at the door-knob while he was it mil- dying with duns for debts he could not won- pay; yet the peace of God brooded over es of his pillow, and while the world faded, wled Hleaven dawned, and the deepening :hed, twilight of earth's night was only the they opening twilight of Heaven's morn. P upon Not a sigh. Not a tear. Not a struggle. heis . Hnh! Stephen asleep. d r of I have not the faculty as many have d the to tell the weather. I can never tell spot by the setting sun whether there will Sthe be a dronght or not. I can not tell by ' ig up the blowing of the Whid whether it phen will be fair weather or foul on the t morrow. But I can prophesy, and t C ough will prophesy what weather it will be good when you, the Christian, come to die. a way. You may have It very rough now. It - te we may be this week one annoyance, the a this next another annoyance. It may be - t has this year one bereavement the next v. It another bereavement But at the last 1 t the Christ will come in and darkness will L andgo out. And though there may be no] could hand close to your eyes, and no breast i e not on which to rest your dying head, *h it and no candle to lift the night, the takes odors of God's hanging garden will re a Ino gale your soul, and at your bedside lety will halt the chariot of the king. No more rents to pay, no more agony be- , n his cause flour has gone up, no morae strg It was gle with "the world, the fleer and the 1, nor devil;" but peace-long, deep. everlaste Slus g peace. Stephen asleep! spirit. Asleep in Jeus, blesamed slep, The From whoeb aoe can ever wake te sgep; door, A calm sad undisturbed repene, r his Uainured by tl last o ~ les. grim- Aseep int Jesus, far from she and I Trh yindre ad their sraraves m be; some But therelts stll a bmi p From uhic noe ever wabe to wee i body. You hav seen enogh for eoe day. see it No one ean suesesrtar esalae moret , sad than brve pletures~ in a da. TBmQtoe 'ato- we stop, having seen tbrts elustr a ahed divine RBaphsels-Btepbea gaunt itnte [c'm Heaven; Stepthen lookLtg at Christ; mt be- Stephen stoned; s ntea i hapaer stand Stephen asleep -l as -The ma who Is treet.eGd fwt oftha haves ...t.h test '.gsle salat I rorts il* will law Ch PERSONAL AND LTElRAWY. - Free people, remember this dmen.l: We may acquire liberty, but it is aevet recovered if it is once lost.-lRomma -Rev. William C. Winslow, of DB i ton. vice-president of the Egypt e ai ploration fund. bas received the deco ration of the Society of Senle a Pnd Arts of Great Britain for honorary te-i a lowship. Os. -F. A. Brockhaus entered business reat a hundred years ago and ninety years ago became a book publisher, begia- ees ning with the Conversations-Lexieon. hai The firm has consisted of members of his family alone ever since, and the in wl third generation of klrockhaus is It about to retire leaving the fourth gen- tio t eration. Albert and Rudolf, at the daW t head of the house,now in Leipzsig. true S--Rev. Dr. L L. Townsend, tbel'eth- ever Sodist divine and pastor of the Moant Ever Vernon Place church in Baltimore bh a do tendered his resignation to take effect them B at the end of the present conference duty 1 year. Mr. Townsend will leave the eomf ministry entirely and devote his time Inov 1 to literary work, as has been his de- pow, sire for some time past. Mr. Town- bretl send went to Baltimore from Boston. lie. --The coming man in Turkey is wile Turchan Pasha. the foreign minister, simp who has had a remarkable career and teasg P is in high favor with sultan and the fails ° grand vizier. Hle was educated in life I SFrance, and his wife is one of Turkey's certe Srare "new women." At her hnsband's itt t official receptions she stands by his spec] F side unveiled, dressed in the latest fnl i t European styles and wearing eye- regu a glasses. dad -Geronimo has been in confinement wor ten years, and his warlike spirit, if not prny subdued, is very carefully concealed. over During his captivity he has eosmoed tow i'imself with dealing out justice, in the mea it capacity of police magistrate, to his who tribe. Meantime his captor, Gen. Miles, ele has been talked of for chief magistrate fore Gen. Miles is fifty-six years old, and it of a is thirty years since he broke the rec- gre ord in military honors by becoming a mid; is major-general at twenty-sin. as s -B. W. Yeats, the young Irish poet, not ,e is mentioned as reminding one of yoG Se Stevenson. ile wears a scarlet sash te and a sombrero in the streets of Dab- he 11 lin and has "'a tall, willowy frame, 04 v- with the tint in blis cheeks of the tio te wild olive." And if you stop in the the st street this mixture of the olive and the o*1 se willow with a question as to the ouc it weather-behold! he will "dreamily t w spin you a fable out of the Celtic Od re twilight or reel oft a sad-toned son- p net' r, -William Watson's new and com En paratively long poem, which has not she ty yet reached us, but notices of which ys -opear in the English papers, is high- A I," ly praised by the Spectator. The poem bee to is entitled "Hymn to the Ses." The a a tes Spectator says: "'There is not a line in od it which is not a great line. * * * ha' a In this noble poem, mistermedahymn, the ny but all the more wonderful, for the f to purely imaginative character of its til It, splendor, we ate greatly mistaken If it. all competent critics will not recognisze dr fe. at last that we have among us another lot for of the really greatest masters of En- Al gad glish song." ots HUMOROUS. m Led - pr , I --Charley-"What makes the old eat he howl so?" Walter-"I guess you'd we bud make a noise if you was full of fddle Ia- strings inside."-N. Y. Herald. At all -"Mamma, where do eggs come Ti Sto from?" "Chickens, my dear." "Well, rea that's funny. Papa asys that chick. ph les ens come from eggs. "-Harper's Round we ing Table lo een -"What is young Fiddleberry scI- worth?" "Well, before he inherited lit ecy $1,000,000 from a great uncle he was Ids getting f8 a week."--Cincinnati Ea Lba quirer. *om -Alphonse - "You never hear of wnd women ashiers running off with their nof employers' money." Henri-"Not often; so snd but when it does happen they take the to all employer too. "-llustrated Bits. l -Teacher-'"Tommy Figg, you may parse the sentence 'He stood six feet two in his stockings'" Tommy-"Bnt a it ain't finished. Sthouldn't'two in his ot stockings' be in pareathees?"--Idl r anapolts Journal. -Great Showing. - "When I first took hold of this place," said the new B n proprietor of the grocery store on the g corner, "it was doing absolutely noth ling, and now the business has doubled."-Chicago Tribnne. tell -"Well, what do you wAnt, sonny'" ill asked the grocer. "I 'most forget by what mamma sent me for," replied the erit perplexed little boy on the outside of the the counter, "but I think it's a can of W ad j condemned milk."-Chicago Tribune. 1 be --Proof Posltive-Percy-"D''o't two die. negatives make an affirmative?" Papa It -"Yes, Percy." Percy-"T-'hen I'm fl the awful smart" Papa-"Why?" Perecy be -"Beeause the teacher says I'm a next 'know-nothing.'" - Harper's Round C last Table. I will -Joke on Her-"What are you a no laughing at?" asked the hold-up, as hesst he rifled the man's clothest "Ha ha! ! ead,I was thinking what a surprise my ,the wife will get when 1he goes through .1 re- my clothes to-night," aid the mused aide victim.-Detrcoit Fre Pres. No -Hard Times, Iaded,-"Manma, I Sbe- think it's awful tfnny about Jimmis 1m- Watts." "What is?" "You know he I the can beat any of us boys swimming." 'lat "Yes?" "Well, he dan't brag abt t it at home, 'sese his dady'd lick 'i s for goin'."-Chieago beord. " -w~aiter (to party from the contry, fast seted)-"Eere's the bil offE , Ii, sir." Gentlemas (froa the ral dise tries)-"Now, look here If yoe thLk PIm goig to pay sayu bill of Mai tM) I've had somsethin' to oak yu'Ib' 10 in' yourse Fetach o yar vtilse ry. Ar.' ---Tit, it --At the rt5 Re fads MlQ s- e r "Got any mail for ase' "Nes.** t5 r into *Noost" "Thata I ltters this h~·~\; twbIll f:Ith hItke U 4~ iM.ees'.W si Va4S4WW " The aids fl i( W Ther sen as .e.e the miery , me pIop pulhed their easor. de+l: pie gamble away bther Mhee Pia fruitless sand wiked w elrte t re asa who handles theb. geiu One woman imagias- tlt sh Sgreet ability is art -ovd aeh e her family to makse .mee m Sees for her beasu, when shie have earned the moesy hwa kr be Sart. eduestion n esme pr pr l : in which she s wrealy It may e thet after yee[ * tion she becomes ely* I4ia e dabster. If she hens the he. d:: true genius she will -.0Cq . t every obstacle sad Mia.ly 0 it Everyone la the world he ai. lb~ ' a duty God-givesn wiseh siar b*'aS !t them and which Istheir bSM6U*)'i*" a duty of the wife to keep le comfortable home, of the *aNsbd4 e provide liberally and to the best * power for his family, of the sai it s - brother to Sir their parts 1l tbha L life. Any scheme, however $ttgt is which come. in the way ,;o.f i r, simplest yet paramorAt duiss , i Id tewptation of Saten. Aiy ,V' le fails in his irst duty samd destibb n life to greet iaventions whisk bsts .r 's certain return, however attrs4ti* 's flattering in theanelvss * fftP'* is species of gambling not lose at fl in its fnal results tlh a tbat 61 U e- regular geabler. There - hb*u' dreds of suessful liavet e ,: s. 1 ' at world who never laid salie b' ot practical, everyday work to dca d. over unoertainties, bat who m ad to work out their tavetleo5atets ' e ments. There are bndr.ds of ut it who have earned their b8ied 1S a, clerk's desk sad-In various wa ib e. fore they Aially achieved the 1 1l it of authorship John M eChell hthis c. great actor, read Shakespeate by the . a midnight oil daring tbh time that he was workiag In the eoel al,. N -PI Snot speed his time i2ke ot youthL losing about the er sh was prepared in a largy'degrebiw b. he came to the oity. bt haddsi of we. e. otal men end women might be Wen he tioned who have earned thelrl*Ilht by he the moat uncongenial labor, wkil at he leisure moments they weae working he out careers in more cosgenal oesapIs iy tions; and .tis is the only bhoneatS W tic of doing If one is not possessYed itbe n-. purse of Fortunats.-lN. Y. TriHeasn THE ANGELIOC CHILD.. lot she lferms the ieslie e rase e$1e15 ich PsaieSS EeWmt Rh- A handsome young woman with a em beautiful little girl of fear years ,pt ia rhe a crowded Market street ear. •in "You've got on mamma's dress * haven't you, Aunt Alie? remerked an, the child. the Aunt Allee flushed and ealet aiell its tion to a balloon man on the corner. n It "Yes. the last timemiasmmawot that isre dress dowutown she bought mas ba' her loon. Will you by me one, Amt En- Allct?" 'Yes, if you'oall be good." '"Oh, I'l bqe good. Dpo you like mstm ma's haet Ibt meklee you look awfUlly pretty, Aunt Allos." cat '"There, be a good girl O S at sa'd woman out there With a little girt " idle There was a period of silesnce Aunt Alice breathed a sig.h f reistl ome Then the child Inquired: Tel, "Did mamma say you couid werher ick. pin, Aunt Alice? Sbe wouldn't l5o i und wear it, 'ause she was afraid I would lose it." erry "Yes, of corme. Do be qMiet dt. ,ited ie." was "WiU you buy me a balloos thea?" ' En- "Yes." *'And I can carry it?" r of "Yes ,heir "All right, then take maemma's pars. i soL I don't want to matry It any the longer, 'cause I conidn't earry it and the balloon, too. lasen't you gotay best dress of your own, Aunt Alies? of Aunt Alice yanked the little outt out t of the car by tae ari and the hebases isare that she got so bsloon.-Atlata di- Constitution. whr some srnae l'L a. irst Friend -Bow's business now,ld bhe? new Bad as evert athe Manutacturer-N-o; doing hetter oth- than we were. has 'Glad to hear that. Yea told , some weeks ago, that yogar mial were uy"' running at a Ioes." arget "No less now;: not a eeat" Sthe 'Prices gone upS?" de of "No. Mlen are on a strikLe."-N. T. W of Weekly. t two The eepmew Meme Papa Spalnsh Oficer - OA thqre lta the I'm front, men! M]ake way sad let your Perey oflers lead yoa- 'm a BLbordinte-Bat.C·etSl, why this cud headlong shrgerte- There's no insur gents in front at m o "Forward. for the glory of Splet p, as They are behind tas'-Clevelsna11la1 , bra! er. e my Aftem the asel. rough 'I have only one requamet to make. BaI*C sir," said the saptl*e SplsIeh oem mender, after surrnderig hifmeres s I to the Cuban insmurgemts "Iie "What is it?" ow he "L edt me med a eblegram to Iadrkid sing." snnouneoigtht I hrveo woea te about and decisive vietory." - PUtabr s 'im chr'ouiole-Tdlrea ' asntry -Veugusa-"Whiso tis r I fare, looking man who is alwaysi l al dis- tb trate eat degate hInglse thtnk she drWausW. "'es t.ei ire till knows all abtow ~ LI I esol* trouble tbe the • - " 'L. vby4ul ', "b the e litwo afl II Mely.e~ La enss I P