North Carolina Newspapers

i - link wmi The Rended Veil. BY NATHAN D. URNER. Authnrjuf "Florence FaheUrnd," "The 31 od em Crusae," "Squirrel-Cap," "Hoeer and Tmdrr," "The Speechless Spy, "Evadne," Etc, Etc i CHAPTER XXY. tiOTE AXD MYSTEET. Tor aninstant of supreme amazement I staggered back from the porch, scarcely able to believe what my eyes had wit nessed, or r ither failed to witness. J "The devil's pot him, sure!" ejaculated Lnnnigan, who had come tip in time to witness the strange vanishing scene, only tha worse by a sore ho id from his tun n ng rough-and-tumble with the yokel. " Ve., " stammered Hank, w hp had just put in an appearance nt th3 nick of the! dis appearance, "the old boy must have reached up for h;m, like a gold lish for a Cy', and ranked h'm under. It was just like the Utile Joker in Thimblerig 'Now you Bee it, and then you don't.' " I "The iLsido of th3 house is full' of just f uch strange traps, secret doors, and pit falls, and the porch must be the same," : said Miss Dixon. "He must have availed hraself of one of triem. The old house ' inut have been used as a sort of Secret Service Bureau during the lie volution." This hid evidently Lee 1 the case, inas-. much as the trap door by which our'enemy had s.ink from sight hid sprung up again ti it place in the flooring of the porch so iiea:iy as scarcely to leave a .distinguishing trace of its ontbne. ) - fY'Lile we were examining the spoti and speculating as to. whether the fugitive might hwo merely sunk to some deep hi -ing p!ace, cr attained some subterranean 1assage by which, an cscaj e could jhav cen effected from both the house and. grounds, we were startled by an ominous ratling of wheels and tramping of hoofs from up the road by which we had r.acheJ the house. "IIo's skinned out by some underground wiy. and is rank ng off with our carriage and horses," suddenly criod Hank, the first to guess the real. state of the case; and away he scampered in pursuit, with Lanai Cn and I at his heels. i : "But a:l too late!" I "When we reached a point in the j road from which we could look up past the hole in the hills in which we had concealed om coach and pair, it was only in time to 6ee them disappearing rapidly in the distance, with De Marchmont on the box, furiously lashing the ho!se3 into a gallop. Onlyj once he turr.cd in his scat to shake his whip mockingly and menacingly at our stupefied ' faces, and then the flying equipage disap pearo I over a riso in the road. j ! There mast be a horso or two in the stable yonder, if you would still pursue him," cried Miss Dixon, who had followed nB to the gn'e, and had quickly divined the new complication. , j "Wc all at once ran to the stable and found two miserable, decrepit-looking farm horses in the stalls, whi'e there were traces of another animal having been led ont but a few moments before, and con duc ed away by a narrow bridle-path; that seemed to wind off through the hills be hind the grounds. "No matter," I cried, addressing myself to both Hank and Lannigan, "mount these two brutes at once and make after the! car i;fne. while I remain with Miss Dixon, f They obeyed me with alacrity, though their wa neither f addle nor bridle to be had, nothing but the rope halters upon the animals' necks to guide them by; but both men were experienced horsemen, and in less time thin I have taken to describe it they had sprang upon the bare backs of their sorry steeds and started in pursuit. "Don't hesitate to shoot this time, ifj you overtake him," I shouted after them. I . "Do yon think they will overtake ihim, sir?" asked Miss D xon, as we stood to gether at the g.mlon gate. Tossib'y," I replied; "badly mounted a thay are, the road is a-rough one, and bettor suited for hoofs than wheels. But the delay w. 11 be only temporary, andyou will pres nt y be restored to vour friends. Thaak heaven for thit." " )' "Yes, thank heaven and you ! " she ex cla;med in a low voice, and turning hei beautiful eyes, brimming with tearful grtfitude. upon me. "How do you account for the disappear ance of that other horse that was evidently in tho stable a short time ago?" I asked, stammeringly, and with an uncommonly qner freii: g. ' "Miht it not have been ridden off by one of the two countrymen who wore knocked down in the fray?" she suggested. Yon cm sea for yourself that they, too, have disappeared." . 1 had not noticed it before, but it was now mad j evident that the big yokels! had tike a advantage of the confusion thai had ensued directly after their stunning over ' throw to tike themselves off without be ing observed. j "You said nothing in your letter about their presence here, or that of this enemy, either," I said, pausing in our saunter back to the house, and pointing to the carcass of the t-Te.it Sibeiian hound that had re ceived H ink's pistol bullet in its heart. "Because I knew nothing of it, having ktpt myse'f almost constantly in the upper put or" the house," she replied. "Then my pet carrier proved worthy of his trust?" I rapidly explained to her everything , that bad taken pi ce during her absence. She was almost overwhelmed with min glid joy. ml amazement upon being in formed of her father's resurrection, as it were, and it was some time before shp could recover from-her emotion. j As she finally did so, however, with, the fine spirit and decision that was natural to her, a sudd'n thought seemed to strike her. ad she exclaimed, "Mrs. Miggles! AVe have fo-gotten all about he:;' what can have become of her?" j fLet us seek the woman at once," I said, sternly. ""She shall consider herself nndei ' ai rest f:oai this mometit." j TAnd justly fo!" exclaimed Miss Dixon, m l g! ant y. II r pretension to me of her having hid but a chance acquaintance with De Marchmont was of the flimsiest ki" d. I hivf n't a doubt but that she con spired with him to bring me here; and, toward the' last, she has been far 1 less kindly to me than he." " -' j Wo .proceeded toce:her into the house, carefully avoiding the trip m tlie porch, and my companion conducted me at once to the room w! re sho srid the treacherous woman had been in the habit of spending the greater part of her time, and where we fully expected to find her, sullen and de fiant But, to our astonishment, sho was, not there. f Still further to our astonishment, she was not to be found anywhere. J We searched the house high and low; we even investigated the trap-machinery and its con nection with the long tunnel by which De Mar -hmont had effected his escape 'all of which bore evidence of having been re cently renewed and repaired at consider able xnenne-. as did also the old. rick err; rurniture or. sucn rooms as wero rurm&cea at all; we discovered in our search numer ous other mysteries in the construction of the old house, but the substantial figure of the housekeeper had vanished aB indubi tably as though she had evaporated. j V;: I see how it is, " suddenly exclaimed ij companion, when odr hopeless quest had once more led ns to the upper floor. "It must have been she who disappeared on the missing horse." ' . ( She hastily ran back to the apartment in which we had at first expected to find the housekeeper, and I followed her. "Just as I feared!" she cried, pointiug to an empty spaca in one corner. "A lady's saddle occupied that corner only a short time ago, and now it is cooe. I several times Twibea Mrs. Miggles if it was herr, and what she intended doing with it, with out receiving anything but evasive replies. The answer is now plain eaough. She probably lode "hither in that saddle, and has ridden hence jn it by that mysterious bridle-path leading from the back of the stables." There was little room to doubt that such had' beer, ino case. And I miht as well Cartly relieve the reader's curiosity right ere by saying that, strange as it may seem, never afterward was the mysterious house keeper, Mrs. Miggles, Been or heard of Whether $he possessed secret means by which she was enabled to evade pursuit ind seek a foreign land: whether she com mitted, suicide somewhere, out of right, out of mind, among tho recesses of those lonely and forested hills; or whether she is stiil living in poverty-stricken and anony mous retirement amid the peopled wilder nesses of a great city, or any other hy-. pothesis of her fate, must ba left to the conjecture of the reader. It is only my duty to repeat that, clothed in her mys tery and, perhaps, her crimes, she from that hour, so far as the knowledge of this story's personages extends, passed out into the obscurity of the great Unknown, and was heard of no more. Miss Dixon sat down and gave me a brief account of her captivity. Barring the mental anxiety she had suffered, and the persecuting urgency to which she had been subjected by both De Marchmont and his female confederate to consent to aa imme diate marriage with the former, her impris onment had not been a painful one. "I really think, thongh," said she, in conclusion "that, if I had persisted in my 'crueltv. as he denominated my refusal ('btubbornness' Mrs Migg'cs called it), he might havo resorted to desperate meas ures, as at every one of his fresh visits (he only made me four) I detected a growing impatience in his manner that alarmed me But. thank heaven, you came!" "Oh, Heaven and Love be praised that I did!" I exclaimed, suddenly, seizing one of her hands, and hardly knowing what I did. "My bird! my i poor bird!" exclaimed Lulu, withdrawing her hand and sta ting to her feet in much confusion. "She ii hidden away in my room, and dying, I fear. " ,We had been "sitting by a bright wood fire in the large room deserted by the housekeeper; and as the young girl spoke she fluttered out of the door, very much like a bird herself, calling out, as she dis appeared. "Wait for me, Mr. Piercer; I will come again. " She presently returned, with tho pet car rier she had kept in her possession lying limp and drooping in her tender hands. "Poor Blanche I" she murmured, as she resumed her seat at my side and fondled the perishing bird. "Are you going to die at last, then? And will you never flut'er home again, to soar and coo among your pretty companions? Tell mo, Mr. Piercer," she added, holding it up to me, "if you think it can smv.ve." The tears were streaming frori her lovely eyes. As I could not find it in my heart to tell her that the bird was near its last gasp Eha continued to speak, te ling me preialy, through her sobs and tears, how she bad secretly cared for the wants of both birds to the best of her ability, hiding them un der her bed, and l ourishing tbem with such crumbs as she could carry away unper ceived from her meals in one of tho 'ower rooms; but how this one hid drooped and pined from the first, having at last alto gether refused nourishment after being Separated from its white mate, Arrow, on the r receding day. Even as sho Xvas speaking the bird gave a last flutter and died in hei hands. Ih.n it was that tho tender-hearted girl b olce into uncontrolled weeping; and then it was that I somehow found myself how, I never exactly knew with the fair weeper herself in my arms, and pouring into her ears, with quivering lips, the tale of love aud passion that bad been smoldering in my lonely heart so long, and wanting but the opportunity to kindle into burning life. Then it was that, all alon9 in the de serted house the hollow monument of de parted days and with the dead bird lying in he hands, she hid her face upon my breast and murmured form a sweet sponse to all I hoped and dreamed. re- CHAPTER XXVL THE UNMASKING. It could not have been ; later than ten o'clock in the morning that De Marchmont had made his escape from the old house in the hills, with Dresser and Lannigan in pursu t, and yet it was past two when Lulu and I were roused from our love-trlk by the sound of their return. Our friends came back with the cirriage and horses, and with the steeds upon which they had given chase, but "the fugitive had effected his escape. Hank explained that the cirringe had been overturned in a meadow near the fork of the roads, with the horses grazing near it, they having either boen released or broken the traces directly after the accident. De Marchmont had disappeared, and the supposition was, seeing that the noises had been put to no further service, that he had struck across country for the railroad. Most of the t me had been spent in putting the equipage to gether again, for which a blacksmith had to bo hunted up and his services put into tequisition1; and, as it was, the vehicle showed a rather battered appearance, while the harness had been clurusi y repaired in many places. But it answered our purpose, and, leav ing the old house in the hills to take care of itself, we were presently once more on the road, this time headed homeward, with Lulu and I on the inside. With all its drawbacks, it was r-n agree able enough rida for my fair companion and nrjse'f , as the reader may well imagine. "Do you think that De Marchmont will have escaped to parts unknown by the rail road?" Lulu inquired of me in the course of the journey. "If we shall find Mr. Jocelyn at The Aspens when we reach there, as I hope to, De Marchmont will not be far away," I re plied. Upon passing the northern extremity of High Bridge, I, in obedience to a sort of presentiment, ordered a brief halt at the little public house before, referred to, where I gave certain instructions to Max ton, which he promised, to attend to, and we then continued on our way, crossing the Harlem by Central Bridge, at McComb's Dam this time, and reaching The Aspens a little before dusk. The weather had been steadily growing colder, and the sky looked hard and bleak, whi'e tho ice-coatirg on the rivjr, which had been thawing for -several days, was b ginning to harden again. The noise of our entrance into the r-rounds brought not only Miss Digby and Doc, but nearly all the servants as well, out upon tne piazza, ana tue next moment Luln was in their arms, amid general and confused congratulations. I signaled Hank and Lannigan not to go away, and then hastily drew Doc to one side. Is Jocelyn here?" I asked. "Yes; he got home several hours ago, looking glum and dispirited. ' He has shut himself up in the library, I believe. " "Where is your father up at The Spi der?" "No; I couldn't resist the temptation of bringing him here into the house this morn ing. He has been with Marion and me up in my room nearly all day, and no ono else has been aware of his presence here. " "Good. Now follow my directions, and you will have an opportunity of witnes the final scene in this eventful history, it will do no harm to render it a little dra matic at the elose. " , "I'll do whatever you tell me to, o'd fel low." "Take .vour sister up-stairs, then, at once, and nave tne meeting between er and nei father over as soon as possible. - Then as semble every one concerned in your affairs in the large drawing-room, for a general revelation and wind-up. Will you do this, and let me know when you are ready?" "Of course." and away he went on the heels of those who were just retiring from J me piazza. (TO EX CONTINUED.) After all Trie 'greatest nsiierjri rou ble is when they -vroji'i bite. KEY. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUN DAY SERMON. Subject: "The Tempest." The text was. Mark iv.. 36-39, describing Christ stilling the tempest. ' 1 Tiberias, Galilee, Gennesaret three names for tho same lake. . No other gem ever had so beautiful a setting. It lay in a scene of great luxuriance; the surrounding hills high, ter raced, sloped, groved, so many hanging gar dens of beauty the. waters rumbling down between rocks of gray and red limestone, flashing from the,hills and bounding into the sea. On the shore were castles, armed towers, Roman baths, everything attractive; ail ' styles of vegetation in shorter space than in almost any other space in all the world, from the palm-tree of tho tropics to the trees of ; rigorous climate. It seemed as if the Lord had launched one ; wave of beauty on all the scene, and it hung and swung from rock and hill and oleander. Roman gentlemen in pleasure boats sailing i the lake, and the countrymen in fish-smacks coming down to drop their nets fpass each other with nod and shout and laughter, or swinging idly at their moorings. Oh, what a wonderful, what an enchanting lake! It seems as if we shall have a quiet night. Not a leaf winked in the air; not a ripple j wrinkled the face of Gennesaret; but there I seems to be a little excitefHent up the beach, ' and we hasten to see what it is, and wc find it an embarkation, i From the western shore a flotilla pushing out; not a squadron of deadly armament,- nor a clipper with valuable merchandise, nor piratic vessels ready to destroy everything they could seize; but a flotilla, bearing messengers of life, and light, and peace. Christ is in the front boat. Many of His disciples are following in smaller boats. Jesus, weary with muh speaking to large multi tudes, is put into somnolence by the rocking of the waves. If there was any motion at all the ship wras easily lighted; if the wind passed from starboard to larboard, or from larboard to starboard, the boat would rock, and by the gentleness of the motion putting the Master asleep. And they extemporized a pillow made out of a fisher man's coat. I think no sooner is Christ pros trate, and His head touches the pillow, than He is sound asleep. The breezes of the lake run their fingers through the locks of the worn sleeper, and the boat rises and falls like a sleeping child on the bosom of a sleeping mother. Calm night, starry night, beautiful night. Run up all tho sails, ply all the oars, and let tho large boat and the smaller boats glide over the gentle Gennesaret. But the sailors say there is ging to be a change of weather. And even the passengers can hear the moan ing of tho storm, as it comes on with great stride, and all the terrors of hurricane and darkness. The large boat trembles like a deer at bay among the clangor of the hounds; great patches of foam are flung into the air; the sails of the vessel loosen, and flapped by the wind crack like pistols: the smaller boats, like petrels, poise on the cliff of the waves and then plunge. Overboard go cargo, tackling, and masts, and the drenched disciples, rush into the back part of the boat, and lay hold of Christ, and say unto him: "Master, carast Thou not that we perish?'' That great personage lifts His head from the pillow of the fisherrnanVcoat, walks to the front of tho Aessel, and looks out into the storm. All around Him are the smaller boats, driven in the tempest, and through it comes the cry of drowning men. By the flash of tho lightning I see the calm brow of Christ as the spray dropped from his beard. He has one word for the sky and an other for the waves. Looking upward He cries: "Peace!" Looking downward He says : "Be still." The waves fall flat on their faces, the foam melts, the extinguished stars re-light their torches. The tempest falls dead, and Christ stand with His right foot on the neck of the storm. And while the sailors are bailing out the boats, and while- they are trying to un tangle the cordage, the disciples stand in amazement,, now looking into the calm sea, then into tfie calm sky, then into the calm Saviour's countenance, and they cry out: " What manner of man is this, that even the winds and tLe sea obey Him?" The subject in the first place impresses me with the fact that it is very important to have Christ in the ship; for all those boats would have gone to trie botton of Gennesaret if Christ had r:ot been present. Oh, what a lesson for you and for me to learn ! We must always have Christ in the ship. Whatever voyage we undertake, , into whatever enter prise we stirt, let us always have Christ in the ship. Many of you in these days of revivtd commerce are starting out in new financial enterprises. I bid you good cheer. Do ail you can do. Po it on as high plane as possible. You have no right to be a stoker in the ship if you can be an admiral of tha navy. You have no right to be a colonel of a regiment if you can command a brigade; you have no right to be engin er of a boat on the North River, or near tho coast, if you can take the ocean steamer from Sew York to Liverpool. All you can do with utmost tension of body, mind, and soul, you are I ound to do; but oh ! have Christ in every enterprise, Christ in every voyage, Christ ia every ship.' There are men here who asked God to help them at the btart of great enterprises. He has been with thm in the past; no trouble can overthrow them; the storms might como down from the top of Moutt Hermon, and lash Gennesaret into foam and into ajony, but it could not hurt them. v . But hers is another man who starts out in worldly enterprise, en I he depends upon the uncertainties of this life. He has no God to help him. ftor a while the storm comes an:l tosses off the masts of the ship; he puts out ma nieuoac ana tne 10n2--bo.it, t, h sheriff and the auctioneer trv to heln him nflF- they can't help him off; he must go down; no Christ in the ship. Here are young men just starting out in life. Your life will be made up of sunshine and shadow. There may be 1l it arctic blasts, or tropical tornadoes; I know not what is b3fore you, bub I know if you have Christ with you all shall be well. You may seem to get along without the religion of Christ while, everything goes smoothly, but after a while, when sorrow hovers over the soul, when the waves of trial dash clear over the hurricane deck, and the decks are crowded with piratical disasters; oh, what would you do then without Christ in the ship? Young man, take God for your portion, God for your guide, God for your help; then all is well; all is well for time; all shall be well forever. Blessed is that man who puts in the Lord his trust. He shall never be confounded. But my subject also impresses me with the fact that when people start to follow Christ they must not expect smooth sailing. Ihese disciples got into the small boats,and I have no doubt they said: "What a beauti ful day this is 1 What a smooth sea! What a bright ssky this 'is! How delightful is sailing this boat! and as for the waves under the keel of the boat, why they only make the motion of our little boat the more delightful." But when the winds swept down, and the sea was tossed into wrath, then they found that following Christ was not smooth sailing. So you have found it; so I have found it. Did you ever notice the end of the life of the apostles of Jesus Christ? You would say if ever men ought to have had & smooth life, a smooth depart ure, then those men, the disciples of Jesus Christ, ought to have had such a departure and such a life. St. James lost his head. St. Philip was hung on a pillar. St. Matthew had his life dashed out with a halbert. St. Mark was dragged to death through the streets. St. James the Less was beaten to death with a fuller's club. St. Thomas was struck through with a spear. They did not find following Christ smooth sailing. Oh, how they were all tossed in the tempest! John Huss in the fire, Hugh McKail in the hour of martyr dom, the Albigenses, the Waldenses, the Scotch Covenanters did they find it smooth sailing? But why go to history when I ean come into this audience to-day and find a score of illustrations of the truth of this subject- That young man in the store trying to serve God, while his employer scoffs at Christianity, the young men in the same store, antagonistic to the Cnristian religion2 teasing him, torment ing himabot't his religion, trying' to get him mad. They a'icceed in getting him mad, say ing: "You're a pretty Christian," Does this young man liml it smooth sailing when he tries to follow Christ? Here is a Christian girl. Her father "despises the Christian relig.on; her mother despihs the Christian religion; her brothers and siv ters scoff at the Christian religion: she canha"dly find a quiet place in which to say her pr. ayers. Did she find it smooth sailing when she tried to follow Jesus Christ? Oh, no! all wV would live the life of the Christian religion must suffer persecu tion; if you do not find ii in one way, you will get it in another way. The question was asked: v "Who. are those nearest the throne P and th.et answer came back: 'Thess are they who come up out of great tribulation; great flailing, as the original has it; great flailing, great pounding "and had their robes washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb." Oh, do not be disheartened 1 Oh, child of God! take courage! You are in glorious companionship. God will see you through all these trials, and He will deliver you. " . j V !i Wv ciihw-t. nlirt iinnrasses me with the fact j that good people sometimes get very muii ingnteuea . ; , In the tone of the voice of these disciples as they rushed into the back part of the boat, I find they are frightened almost to death. They say: "Master, carest thou not that we perish!" They had no reason to bo frightened, for Christ was in the boat. I suppose if we had been there we would have been just as affrightened. Perhaps mor. ' 1 In all ages very good people get very much affrightened. It is often so in our day, and men say: Why v look at the bad lectures; look at the Spiritualistic societies; look at the various errors going over the Church of God; we are going to founder; the Church is going to perish; she is going down." Oh, how many good people are affrightened by the iniquity Si our day, and think the Church of ; Jesus Christ is going to be overthrown, and just as much affrightened as were the disciples of my text. Don't worry, don't fret, as though in iquity were going to triumph over righteous ness. 1 - A lion goes into a cavern to sleep. He lies down, with his shaggy mane covering the paws. Meanwhile the spiders spin a web across the mouth of the cavern, and i say : ".We have captured him.".. Gossamer thread after gossamer thread is spun until the whole front of the cavern is covered with the spi ders' web, and the spiders say : "The lion is aone; the lion is fast." After awhile theiion has got through sleeping; he rouses himself , he shakes his mane, he walks out into the sun light; he does not even know the spiders' web is spun, and with his voice he shakes the mountain. ! So men come spinning their sophistries and skepticism about Jesus Christ; Ho seems to be sleeping. They say: "We have captured the Lord; He will never come forth again upon the nation ; Christ is captured forever. His religion will never make any conquest among men." But after a while the Lion of the Tribe of Judah will rouse Himself and come forth to shake mightily the nations. What is the spider's web to the aroused: lion? Give truth and error a fair grapple, and truth will come off victor. ' But there are a great many good people who get affrightened in other respects; they are affrightened in our day about revivals. They say: "Oh! this is a strong religious igale; we are afraid the Church of God is going to bo upset, and there are going to be a great many people brought into the church that' are going to be of no use to it;" and they are affrightened whenever they see a revival taking hold of the churches. As though a ship captain with five thou-, sand bushels of wheat for a cargo should say, someday, coming upon deckr "Throw over board ail cargo;" and the sailors should say: "Wiry, captain, what do you mean? Throw over all the cargo? "Oh," says the captain, "we have a peck of chaff tliat has got into this five thousand bushels of wheat, and the only way to get rid of the chaff is to throw all the wheat overboard," Now, that; is a great deal wiser than the talk of a great many Christians who want to throw over board all the thousands and tens of thousands of souls who are the subjects of revivals. Throw all overboard because they are brought into th1? kingdom of God through great re vivals, becauso there is a peck of chaff, a pint of chaff! I say, let them stay until the Last Day; the Lord will divide the chaff from the wheat. Do not be afraid of a great revival. Oh, that these gales from heaven might sweep through all our churches! Oh, for such days as Richard Baxter saw in Kidder- minster and Robert McCheynesawin Dundee! Oh, for such days as Jonathan Edwards saw in Northampton! I have often heard my father tell of the fact that in the early part of this century a revival broke out at Somer ville, N. J. , and some people were very much agitated about it. They said: "Oh, you are going to bring too mmy p3ople into the church at once:" and they sent down to New Brunswick to get Jolm Livingston to stop the revival. . Well, there was no better soul in all the world than John Livingston. He went and looked M the revival; they wanted hiiin to stop it. He stood in the palpit on the Sab bath, and looked over, the solemn auditory, and he said: "This, brethren, is in reality the work of God ; beware ho w you try to stop it. " And he was an old man, leaning heavily on his staff a very old man. And he lifted that staff, and took hold of the end of that staff, and began to let it fall very slowly through, between the finger and the thumb, and he said: "Oh, thou impenitent, thou art falling now falling away from life, falling away from peace and heaven, -falling as certainly as that cane is falling through myhand fall ing certainly, though perhaps falling stow- lv." And the cane kept on falling through! John Livingston's hand. The religious emo in the audience was overpowering, and men saw a type of their doom, as the cane kept falling and falling, until the kno'o of the cane struck Mr. Livingston's hand, and he clasped it stoutly and said: "But the grae of God can stop you, as I stopped that cane;11! and then there was gladness all through thef house at the fact of pardon and peacej and salvation. "Well," said the people after! thef service, "I guess you had better send Livings to;i hom9; he is making the revival worse.' Oh, for the gales from heaven, and Christ on( board th? ship! The danger of the Church of God is not in revivals. Again my subject impresses me with the fact that Jesus was God and man in the same being. Here He is in the back part of the boat. Oh, how tired He looks; what sad dreams he must havo! Look at his counte nance; He must be thinking of the cross to come. Look at Him, He is a man bone of our bon?, flesh of our flesh. Tired, He falls asleep; He is a man. But then I find Christ at the prow of the boat; I hear him says "Peace, be still;" and I see the storm kneel ing at His feet, aud the tempests folding their wings in His presence ; He is a God. 1 If I have sorrow and trouble, and want sympathy, I go and kneel down, at the back part of the boat, and say: "O, Christ! weary one of Gennesaret, sympathize with all my sorrows, man of Nazareth, man of the cross. V A man, a man. But if I want to conquer my spiritual foes, if I want to get the victory over sin, death and hell, I come to the front of the boat and I kneel down, and I savi "O, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou who dost hush the tempest, hush all my grief, hush all my t3inptation, hush all my sin. " A man, a man; a God, a God. i I learn once more from this subject that Christ can hush a tempest. i It did seem as if everything must go to ruin. The disciples had given up the idea of managing the ship; the crew were entirely demoralized; yet Christ rises, and He puts His foot on the storm, and it crouches at His feet. Oh, yes! Christf can hush the tempest. You have had trouble. Perhaps it was the little child taken away from you the sweet est child of the household, the one who asked the most curious questions, and stood around you with the greatest fondness, and the spade cut down through your bleeding heart. Per haps it was an only son, and your heart has ever since been like the desolated ' castle j the owls of the night hooting among the falling arches and the crumbling stairways. ; Perhaps it was an aged mother. You always went to her with your troubles. She was in your home to welcome your children into life, and when they died she was there to pity you; that old hand will do you no more kindness; that white lock of hair you; put away in the locket didn't look as it usually did when she brushed it away from : her wrinkled brow in the home circle or in; the country church. Or your property gone, you said: "I have so much bank stock, I have so many Government securities, I have so many houses, I have so many farms'N all gone, all gona . i 1 Why, sir, alTthe storms that ever trampled their thunders,"all the shipwrecks have; not been worse than this to you. Yet ;you have not been completely overthrown. ..Why ! Christ hushed the tempest. Your little' one was taken away. Christ says: 'T have that little one in my keeping. I can cafe for him as well as you can, better than you can, O bereaved mother!" Hushing the tempest. When your property went away God said; "There are treasures "in heaven, in banks that never break." Jesus hushing the tempest. ; There is one storm into which we will all have to run. The moment when we let go of this life, and try to take hold of the' next, we will want ail the grace possible. Yonier I see a Christian soul rocking on the surges of death; all the powers of darkness seem to let out against the soul the swirling wave, the thunder of the sky, tho shriek of the wind; all seem to unite together; but that soul is not troubled; Tihere is no sighing, there are no tears; plenty of tears in the room at the dei parture, but he weeps no tears; calm, satis fied, peaceful ; all is welL By the flash of the storm you see the harbor just ahead, and you are making for that harbor. All shall be well, Jesus hushing the tempest. Into the harbor of heaven now we elide; ' -We're home at last, home at l ist.- - ' ; Softly wa drift on its bright, silv'ry tide, ! We're borne at last. Glory to God! all our dangers are o er. We stand secure on the glorified shore; Glory to God! we will Bhout evermore. We're home at last." - TEMPERANCE. Iiife In the Glad Saloon. Talk not of woe in the shining cup, Prate not of hapless men, Here's brandy red fill your glasses up. Then drink and fill again. Quaff the nectar sweet, Where choice spirits meet, Beneath the blazing dome, Where polished mirrors gleam like the sun's meridian beam, We'll drink to the hearts at home. Drink till the dawn and sleep till the noon, r Hail! the sleepless night and the gay saloon. Hark! to the merry click and clink Of the glasses' crystal rim, Where full tothe glossy brink They flash to the goblet's brim With vintage divine, , With golden wine, - And every drop is red, Red with the blood of manly hearts. Victims from offices, shops, and marts Who rest with the countless dead, -Oh! the palace of wine is a sacred boon And the glory of life is a glad saloon. Come ! drink of the vintage sweet Of the grape the corn and rye, In the bar-room gay we meet And the sun of mirth beams high, Where flashes bright The electric light, Though the giddy brain may reel, Reel! with the flow of heated gin The fumes of rum and the dregs of sin, Where crime sets its loathsome seal Dimming the sunlight and clouding the moon ; Yet there's nothing so bright as a glided sa loon, j Who cares for the preacher's ire? Or the famished widow's wail? For the drunken, tottering sire, Or the shivering orphan pale? Who cares for the tear On the drunkard's bier? Or the wife or mother's sighs? Or grave in the potter's field, afon , Unmarked with a cross, or mou:.d, cr stone, Where the poor inebriate lies? March on to the same eternal tune, A pauper's grave and a bright saloon. Charles J. Beatlie, in Inter-Ocean. A Temperance Talk to Young Men. I should have been in my grave twenty or thirty years ago if I had not quit drinking intoxicating liquors, as 1 aid, m xoi. a contracted the habit : had built up a blind, unnatural appetite for strong drinks, and liked the taste of every kind of liquor though I suspect I liked the effects still better. I be gan to grow careless and " slothful in busi ness," and put off till next week what I ought to have done to-day. Fortunately I discov ered that the habit was destroying my health and my worldly prospects, and by a most de termined will-power I conquered the powerful appetite which I had acquired for intoxicants and broke it forever. I knew that habit was second "nature, and that the unnatural appetite for strong drinks was stronger than nature itself, for every j glass of liquor drank increased the desire lor another glass, and so on ad libitum, and there fore to have conquered such a fearful habit was the saving of my life, and all that was worth living, for. I When I found mvself secure from falling back into the whirlpool of intoxicants, I felt as a shipwrecked person must feel when his life is barely saved cy the lifeboat, when many of his fellow passengers were still strusshne: in the waves. Being saved himself, he is excitedly anxious to save I others, . 1 felt so overjoyea at being snaccnea from a habit which was surely dragging me down to misery and death, that I found my greatest pleasure consisted in circulating the temperance pledge, giving temperance lectures free of charge all over the country, and using every effort in my power to enlighten public sentiment in re- fard to the fearful delusion of strong drink, particularly urged young men and young women, as I now do, to start right in life to avoid the greatest evil in the land, because it is the parent of nearly every other evil known, and is sure t& utterly destroy nine tenths of those who form the drinking habit. I begged them not to touch a single drop, becausa like opium, morphine and other narcotics the drinking or liquor1 calls for more, more, and more to produce the same effect that a little produced at first, and thus an artificial and unnatural appetite was created that proved irresistible in a great majority of cases. I. showed the youth of this country that their health, happi ness, and success in life, as well as of their posterity, depended upon whether they started life's journey on whisky, beer, and other brain-muddlers, or on cold water, nature's beverage, ; which gives the clear brain, the firm' hand, the strong resolution, .and the noble ambition to succeed in life financially and morally. I am glad to know that I have started thousanis of young per sons on the right track, and that their exam ple will save hundreds of thousands of their posterity and fellow beings. It is one of the greatest pleasures of the evening of , my lif e that I can look back and see the multitude of young married man, who were ruining thamselves and families by this social, delu sive, and absolutely fatal habit of dram drinking, whom I bave been able to convince that they were on -the wrong track, and to induce them to switch off and take the tem perance track for life. ; Many a wife and son and daughter have clasped me by the hand, and, with streaming eyes, have thanked me for having saved them from misery and degradation, and saving their father and husband. . Young married men in Bridgeport who were my tenants, I have induced to abandon the use of liquor and tobacco on condition that I would build and sell them a house on credit, to bo paid for by instalments. Numbers of such men with growing families have in a few years owned the houses they lived in, clear from debt, they having saved the money by cutting off their rum and tobacco expenses, and earned more money by their renewed energy, strength and ambition. There is not one redeeming quality in the liquor drinking habit. It does no possible good, and it inflicts all manner of-evilon its victim, his family and friends. It is the most de grading, poverty breeding, and utterly destructive infatuation that ever paralyzed the hopes, comforts and characters of the people of this otherwise blessed America. Intoxioation Among French Chil dren. In the Gentlemen's Magazine, a contribu tor, Sylvanus Urban, Writes: "I shall, I doubt not, startle not a few of my readers when I state that during a recent visit to France I have frequ3ntly seen i'rench children intoxicated. Strange as such an as 83rtibn may seem, I deliberatily make it and stand by it. Again and again at tables d' hot I have seen chulren scarcely more that babies suffering distinctly from alcohoL It is, as travelers in France know, the custom in all districts south of the Loire to supply wine gratis at two meals, breakfast and dinner, at wnich the residents in a hotel eat in com patA. Repeatedly, then, in the hotels in French watering-places I have watched chil dren of five years old and upward supplied by , their mothers with - wine enough to visibly Bush and excite them. At Sables d'Olonne on 3 little fellow, whose age could not be more thani-six, drank at each of two con secutive meal three tumblerfuls of wine slightlv diluted, with water. The result was on each occasion that he commenced to kiss his mother, proceeded to kiss the person on the other side of him, continued by sprawling over the table, and ended by putting his head in his mother's lap and falling asleep. It never seems to enter into the mind of a Frenchwoman that water may be drunk at a meal. When long journeys by rail are taken, there is alwavs in ttin riant; HaeVa in arl,is.K the French mother carries provisions a bottle nf nnna ni wtna an1 nrA.. u : 1 4.1 S of her children who have passed the stage of absolute infancy are allowed to drink.. I can indeed say with truth that in the cours3 of a pretty long series of observations of the French, chiefly made, I admit, in public ve hicles and hotels, I have rarely, if ever, seen a glass of cold water, unqualified with any admixture, quaffed by a native. It is now the fashion, tmMrst water even when blended with wiSST" which purpose th3 va rious springs of the Eiu St. Galmier are largely employed." To the list of Martyrs tn the cause of Tem perance is added the name of a prominent citizen of Indiana. Brutally beaten by the brother of a hotel keeper for his denomina tion of the cursed traffic, another victim is laid low by these servants of hell. Th mighty truths go on, however, and although the shedding of blood is to be the sacrifice thera are plenty of volunteers to do service m this, the noblest cause that of protecting their w a"; brothers from the gi ip of Satan. Wesi Urova Wenn.) Indevzndcnt. LIFE AMONG THE : SI0U2, SOME INDIAN Bi BY A WHITE TEACHER- . ; 5 " ' - . ' " T.'t v 1 . . ' ' " . ( Personal Adornment-The Worn-Treatment of. pMMren . Indian Hardihood, i in a Dioux inaian wnu"(-- - . describes some of the aboriginal traits jn the Chicago Current. He says. . . . The women wear usually two rings m V i. small brass ring elV. "dantsTThe women' wter.bras9 or silver, wfi S&Sru to tt wearer most ornamental, ineiiriiaxx long, scarcely reaching below the shoulders, and is worn in two plaits one behind each ear. .With the men the hair often reaches to the waist, and w Plaitef in two tails at the ears and a third di rectly at the back or 'topknot" of the head. The parting of the hair begins in front, in the middle, runs straight back to the "topknot," around which it forms a perfect circle, and continues down to Jhe back of the neck. To the "topknot pigtail is usually tied a string of long white and small brass beads. The two earplaits are frequently bound up with beavers' fur or red or yellow flannel, and worn in front on the breast. When dressed in their most approved style the raven locks lie smooth. to a hair and glisten with oiljc while the parting is painted with a , narrow streak of Ver million. , In their custom of painting the face, the desire for ornamentation seems to be their principal motive, though there are occasions when it has special significance. The most curious specimen of this decoration I have yet seen, was a man who had drawn ' a narrow streak of vermillion from the top of the ears across the temples and eyelids, just above the eyelashes, meeting on the nose and ending in an upstroke between the eyebrows. In clothing, the men are fast adopting civilized garb, when obtainable, in cold weather, but on the slightest return of warmth, breechclout and leggings are again donned. The women wear gown9 of calico, which are sewn-on them in the making but can be removed when made. They are hardly more than btfes with holes for head and arms and flowing sleeves, with a cord or belt around the waist. Tight-fitting leggings of flannel reaching the knee complete the, costumes of the women, never forgetting the shawl. j The Indians have long been grieved to be particularly ciucl in their treat ment of their children. This is so universally the exception that I cannot forbear calling attention to it. It must first be remembered that an Indian's marriage is purely a matter of business. Yet the father is so much in love with his children that it is the first thing noted by a stranger seeing them together. The confidence and attadimeht of the Indian father and son could be advantageously imitated j hy many civilized families. I No -traditional custom of the Indian is so fast disappearing as that of allowing the women to do all the work. Even yet were a women to ride and her lord to walk on a journey, her j companions would scoff and rail at her as one who had cast degradation on so noble a creature as an Indian warrior. As a rule, however, the matter is now compromised by both riding. One peculiar feature of the Indian constitution is its' ability to endure either extreme heat or cold. I have seen men in deep mourning costume entirely of white walk a mile or more dressed only in a cotton shirt, breech clout and leg gings, and a sheet as a blanket in the most intense cold. Or the same man, perhaps, will sit all evening within three feet of a hot stove with overcoat and blanket close about him as when out of doors. In the mdst intense heat or cold they leave camp for the agency 'on horse back or in wagons, with little or no hope of reaching a warm fire or a sheltered spot until their trip of a hundred miles is finished. Yet neither : wind nor weather ever prevents a journey. In many of their houses curious speci mens of workmanship, principally needle work, can be seen. Deer and antelope skins are the principal articles decorated. Beads, tin, painted and brilliantly dyed, and curiously made tassels are the usual ornaments. Their bcadwork, though not as curious as that done by civilized women, is curious in that it is sewn on in strands, fastened at the ends only. The amount of counting necessary to ob tain the regular forms and distances of their work seems immense. With paint they excel only in straight lines or com plete circles, yet they turn out many an artistically decorated robe or deer skin. Much of the beadwork on the moccasins is artistic not only because of the regu larity with which the figures are placed,, but because of the general harmony of the colors employed and the striking contrasts. Their work with thread and needle on cloth is of the crudest sort, and for lack of instruction they , turn out many a rudely-sewn gown or pair of leggings. A Northern California Forest Here the trees, of gigantic proportions, grew in such close .contiguity that it seemed a battle for life through lack of space; and the trail I followed narrowed until horse and rider had barely room to pass between the treesi The outspread ing branches, interlocked in inextricable entanglement, formed a solid canopy of foliage, excluding sunshine and light so impenetrable that it was useless for me to gaze up toward the heavens, or even to guess the time of day from the position of the sun, or from any glimmer of its rays. Not carrying a "watch, and accustomed to tell the time by the length of the shadows, I, became anxious from my inabilsty even to guess at the time of day, and feared from the darkness of my surroundings that . the sun must be descending far toward the horizon. But after a couple of hours of painful anxiety, I at length emerged from the dark, dense and depressing forest, to find myself once more under the blue canopy of a California sky, and thesun with ate resting-place in the j west. Overland Killed By a Picture. There is a famous modern picture a Moscow of John the Terrible, after he has murdered his son in a fit of rage, and suddenly discovers the crime he has com mitted. : The expression in his eyes is that of a madman, with a curious gleam of horror and consciousness strikinghim after his son has sunk at his feet with the b ood streaming from his wounded tem P le "densely realistic, and report asserts that on one occafsion a lady was !LTnVffectd the "gfc of it- that she fell down dead on the spot. Accord, ing to this tale, the picture was subse quently removed to an inner room and ladies not admitted in the absence of a medical attendant. We inspected the picture ia its laner room and without this incumbrance of the'doctor.-y. teenta Century. - - RELIGIOUS REAM Home of the BlcSse(, .vuvyiviuui Lowers Man hath never troj Those unfading flower? " Itouhd the throna of God WhomaybotoRainrn After weary lii- j Whoatleng h attain Clad in robes of wLi'oj lie who gladly b-rirT All o- earthly grouj He who 1 ketho inn-tyr) Buys I WILL he con",,. He whoso one obmtion ' Is a 1 fe ofjovo ; ;, CJnging to'tbo nation . Of the blejt above Wo Fcr, Wo no,,, Robert Owen once visited rll-k Trn a 'hpllPlTA" T ?. . - waifcjn they came to tne gentleman f grave;, Owen, addrc'sino- h;m aw: lift'. 'There is. one advantage I ! Christians I am not af mid to . r a .l ' i. ? r .. , . i aiOEl nnsuaus are aira u to (V 1 some of my business was s.i should be perfectly willing t "die af" moment. m cu, b;uu njs comna"' ' I1.au en-tf rnn Vlfl.VA nn t . 4 have you any hope in death ?v solemn pause ho replied, '40r i replied the gentleman, pointing' to with that brute ; he has fed tin kt satisfied, and stands- in tho whisking 62 the flies, and his noif hope nor fear." Old Testament A: dotes. ' Tine Funeral TroceMlu of jat0 This must hnvo been a very g. funeral procession and that for hunired miles such as the world seldom 6ccn. There were not only -. family of Israel ancT not only theo cers of the court, "the servant! Pharaoh" but rtthc eld ers of For.. ' t.'i- or the grandees cf the empire. were also chariots and horsemen, u. with the attendants takeu with thei so many high person , the camp win great, as the text itself states. ' terras would seem to suggest that ; party was strong in a military poit: view. There is a", tradition among Jews that Joseph contemplated the f sibility of an attack from the famE: Esau, which also claimed the Cut, Macbpelah, and that it actually esc; a battle between the two parties, which Joseph was victor ious. Ere: the presentjage, ko rich a caravan c not pass through those countries i.j out an armed escort, su'! cicntly ttr to protect it against tho predatory: tacks of the desert Arabs. The ob of the sacred historian is,' how simply to indicate the grandeur r; magnificence of Jacob's olseqti which, indeed, seem- to b withoj parallel in history. Kitto's UihlcILt trations. A Christian worked fwlrTrV; Chicago Young Men's Christi ciation, concerning. the breadth Wdm-J 'There are two thousand tele: operators in the country; most of i are young men; seventy -five thou: printers, the majority of whom arej . i ii . .. men ; ana in me course ot mv man:: in various directions I have found scarcely n e per cent or tne youn had any church connection The great majority of crimes whit: rpnim in the city are committed . by the jc men; of tho thirty-eight tho ism1 sons arrested last year, a great n ae was made up of young men. The arc ane of the convict of thVJolict?: Prison is twenty-five years. Some of these young nicrr have 1 trained by godless parent : some of have beeu trained . in a gollcss w parents professing godliness JIi" tnem have never fcen intxh c!1 religion which the Apostle "User.'ifl pure and undented. Semcof ?;() have been disgusted with asw'r article, with the religion of thc who:n the same Apostle James ilee have not the faith of ( hnst. the lor; glory, for if there cm mo into t'e a;- bly a rich man with a gold ii goodly apparel, they say to h'v thou here in a cood pla c,'' wh lc Voor man Is said. "Maiid tfcrc. under my footstool." Mnnv o. thrvc vonn-r iilCH faith in religion which docs net t the lives and business, nnl priva.ee actcr of the men who profess it. they are drifting off into tkqAk'm unbeMef. The work of tho Church iVnd up arc 1 us. Every day persons arc nccdii? ttrrctionj guidance find salvation. especially fot the salvati n of tee. should uncca ing effort lie P'1' 1 How shall wc meet the youn? this day in the presence f f the lm all the earth, if wc allow them on in lar ncss to vo dition, c.r i .1:1 aft B- lailli. Ill UU'I UlliyillH' have turned their feet into the SJ Cold nravcrs are like nrrowJ '' head's, sttords without edges, birJs,1 out winirs: thev nierce not, theyC" they fly not up to heaven. Th -sc f-1 that. Vt n A ns Vin.iironll' II PC B .... v ajwvw 1 iiv uvivu.; 1 , .1 r 1 r 4t. rnn: h 31 ": as heaven; but fervent prai -prevalent with Cod. $vW0 A Significant Fact. A It is a fact of great signiricanei. " illustrative of tho oractiral vaiue o tory legislation in diminishing " ' a 1 ,f ? th nrf.h.-nmiii-' annual the Secretary of State of Jo ; "'t S the past vear fifty-five count!-' ! without a single occupant for .hat ine wnoie yean it pp ..riai:",.! were but 1,645 convictions for fences in the enure ww, f ,...11 r, rrimin.tln nav "hlCh . . . . nm Mi ing or legalizing tbeir infH'"": is to be confirratulatei. 01 era. The receipts tram h"t ending September at), J'.' i an increase of more rh.ni V.Morf. previous year. Thi.s w " hi"K. ,t W h,Z mi ". ' - mi