MOORE’S  RURAI-  WEW-YORKER. 
APRIL  S 
weave  sweet,  smells  Into  a  piece  of  lace  and  If  the 
young  lady  knew ;  or  If  she  knew  how  much  pleas¬ 
anter  It.  was  than  the  onions  that  Mrs.  Me, Mahoney 
cooked  for  dinner  every  day  in  the  week  hut  Sun¬ 
day,  ujsm  t.hc  ili>.t.  ilwr.  But  It  gave  her  quite 
enough  to  do  to  wonder  without  speaking. 
“FlfUM'n!”  repeated  the  young  lady,  standing 
up  very  straight  and  IO(»klng  very  sorry.  “  flow 
long  has  she  hrsrn-llke— that  7” 
“Bornso,”siiId  Deb's  mother.  “She’s  jest  set 
In  I  hat  chair  ever  since  She’s  been  big  enougli  to 
set.  at  all.  Would  you  try  gurn  on  these,  mtss  ?” 
“But  .you  never  told  me  you  had  a  crippled 
chUd !”  The  young  lady  said  this  c|ulckly.  “  Vou 
have  wastnsl  for  me  three  years,  and  you  never 
told  me  you  had  a  crljjpled  (dilld  I" 
“  Vou  never  asked  mo,  miss,”  said  Deb's  mother, 
'riic  young  Imly  made  no  reply.  She  (!ume  and 
sat  down  on  l,he  edge  of  Deb’s  bed,  close  bt'slde 
Deb’s  chair.  She  seemed  lo  have  forgotten  all 
about  her  ciuny  lace.  She  took  Deb’s  band  up  I 
between  lier  two  soft,  brown  gdoves,  and  her  long 
brown  feathers  dropped  tind  touched  Deb’s  cliecJc. 
Debbardli  Itrcatbed,  the  feathers  and  the  gloves, 
and  the  sweet  smells  or  scenud  wood,  and  the 
young  lady’s  wji  ry  eyes  such  v«Ty  sorry  eyes— 
were  so  close  to  the  Idgh  chair. 
“  Fifteen  years!”  repeabsl  tho  yniing  lady,  very 
low,  "  In  that  chulr— that  nobody  ever— poor  little  I 
girl!  But  you  could  ride,”  she  said  suddenly.  . 
“Y  don’t  know  ma’am,”  said  Deh.  “  I  never  saw 
anybody  Hdc  but  the  grociu'  and  the  baker.  I  ain’t 
like  the  grocer  and  the  baker.” 
“Vou  could  be  lilted,  l  mean,”  said' the  young 
lady,  eagerly.  “There  is  ;-tomeljody  who  llfUs  I 
you?”  * 
“  Mother  sebj  me  generally,”  said  Deb.  “Once, 
when  she  was  very  bad  with  a  Itinie  ankle,  Jim 
McMaboney  set  me.  Ho’s  first  floor— ,Jlm  McMa- 
hotiey.”  I 
“1  shall  he  back  here,"  said  the  young  ladj',  I 
still  speaking  very  quickly,  but  speaking  Ui  Deb’s 
mother  now,  “  In  Just  an  hour.  I  shall  come  In  an 
easy  sleigh,  with  warm  rob<-s.  If  you  will  have 
your  daughter  ready  1o  l  ake  a  ride  with  me  I  shall 
be  very  much  obliged  to  you.” 
The  young  lady  ilnlsJiod  her  sentence  as  il  she 
didn't  know  wliat  w  say,  and  so  said  tlie  truest  I  ' 
thing  she  could  think  of,  which  Is  what  wc  are  all 
In  danger  oLdoliig  at  times. 
“Well,  riiT sure!” said  Deh’.s  mother,  “Dubltra, 
tell  the  lady^” 
But  Dabltra  could  not  U'll  the  lady,  for  she  was 
already  out  of  the  door,  and  down  stairs  and  away  1 
Intfj  the  street.  And,  Indeed,  Deb  would  not  have  I 
told  the  lady-h;is  never  told  the  lady— can  never  i 
tell  the  lady. 
If  all  the  blue  summer  shies,  and  tho  gold  of  r 
summer  suuUghti  and  the  shine  nf  summer  stars  I 
fell  down  inU)  your  hand-s  at  once  for  you  U)  paint 
th(.‘  si'rap-hook  with,  should  you  know  what  to 
say?  Into  the  poor  little  scrap-book  of  Deb’s  life 
the  colors  Ilf  Imavon  droppijd  and  blinded  heron 
that  bewlldei  iiig,  beautiful,  blessed  ride.  I 
Tu  just  an  hour  i.nc  sleigh  was  Miere,  with  the 
easiest  cusUloua  and  warmest  robes,  a  nd  bells  -  ® 
the  men'lest  bells!— and  the  atralglit  young  lady.  ^ 
And  Jim  McMaboney  was  there,  and  he  carried 
her  down  stairs  to  “set  "her.  And  her  mother  ” 
was  there,  and  wrapiieii  her  all  about  in  an  old 
red  shawl,  roi*  Deb  luul  no  “  things  "  like  ol  her 
little  girls.  Tho  young  lady  remembered  Miai.  ** 
and  Him  brought  the  protDoat  little  white  hood 
Deb  liad  ever  seen,  and  Deb’s  face  looked  like  a 
day-lily  bud  In  the  shining  wool,  but  Deb  could  ” 
not  he  tlnil.  And  Mrs.  Me  Mahoney  wa.s  tlmre, 
paring  onions  at  the  door,  U)wlsh  lior  good  luckl 
and  all  Mm  litt  le  Mc.Mahoue.ya  were  Uiere,  and  all 
the  ehlldren  who  did  not  wonder,  .and  tho  grocer 
lurned  In  at  the  alloy  cornor,  and  itm  baker 
sloiiped  as  Imturned  out,  a  ml  everybody  stood  and 
.smiled  to  SCO  her  start.  The  white  honso  pawed 
MIC  snow,  and  held  up  lus  itead— Deb  had  never 
seen  such  a  horse-  and  the  young  lady  li:ul  gath-  '  * 
ered  Mm  reins  lulo  her  brown  gloves,  uni?  the 
sleigh-bells  ei-led  for  joy— how  they  cried  !— and  "* 
away  they  went,  and  Deb  wa.s  out  of  the  alley  In  '  ” 
a  mlmiie,  and  Mm  people  In  the  alley  burrulicd, 
and  burrabed,  and  burralied,  to  see  Imrgo.  ' 
ThatlmwIlderlUg.beauMtul,  blessed  ride !  How 
warm  Mm  little  white,  liond  was!  How  the  cush- 
Ions  sank  Itenoaih  her,  and  Mm  fur  robes  ojiened 
llko  feathers  to  lUu  touch  of  her  pixir,  thin  bauds ;  ' 
How  the  bells  sang  lo  her,  uud  tho  .snowdrllis  ><"1 
blinked  at  her,  and  tlie  Icicles,  and  the  slated  •H' 
roofs,  and  sky,  and  the  people’s  faces  smiled  a(  ho 
her.  Hu 
“Mliat’s  the  matter?”  asked  the  young  lady;  he 
for  Deb  di'cw  the  great  wolf’s  robe  over  her  face  I 
and  he.ad,  and  sal  so  for  a  minute  still  and  hidden  all 
'I'he  young  lady  thought  she  was  frlgbleued.  an 
“But  I  only  want  to  cry  a  little,”  said  Deb's  fh 
little,  smotlmred  voice.  “  I  mitst  cry  a  little  of 
Ill’s! !”  pa 
!\  hen  she  had  cried  a  llttlo  she  bold  up  her  j 
bead,  and  the  shine  of  her  pretty  white  hood  clli 
grew  faint  beside  the  shine  of  her  eyes  and  her  of  i 
elmeks.  That  bewildering,  beautiful,  blessed  aio 
ride !  -  on 
stroot^i  and  a  crotvd  and  church  spires  were  In  ofi 
U— yes,  and  a  wedding  and  a  tuneral,  too— all  ha' 
t  hings  lluu  Deb  liad  seen  In  her  high  chair  in  Mm  aln 
ilay-llme  witli  her  eyes  shut  site  saw  in  the  sleigh  nrs 
on  Mint  ride  with  hi;r  ej  es  openiMl  wide.  ^10 
She  was  vcr>'  sMll.  The  young  lady  did  not  talk  see 
10  her,  and  she  did  not  t.alk  to  the  young  lady,  nri 
The  horse  held  up  his  head.  He  seemed  to  Dch  h 
to  bo  Hying.  She  thought  that  he  must  be  like  Mia 
Mm  awful  beautiful  white  horse  In  Kevclatlou.  oft 
She  felt  as  If  lie  could  take  her  to  Heaven  just  as  mo 
well  as  not,  If  the  young  lady’s  brown  gloves  I  ma 
should  only  pull  the  rein  tliat  way.  eiit 
They  j'Odo  iiud  rode  — In  and  out  of  ihcumrr.v  ami 
streets,  through  and  through  the  singing  neils,  ndj, 
about  and  about  the  great  churcli  spires— al  son 
1 
over,  and  over,  and  over  Mm  lauglilng  town. 
They  rode  to  tb«  river  and  the  young  lady  stopped 
the  w'hlto  horse,  so  that  Deb  could  look  acros.s 
and  up  uud  down  tho  slilnlng  stream  and  the 
shining  bftnk.s. 
“There  Is  so  much  of  It,”  said  Deh,  very  softly, 
thinking  of  the  crack  of  it  that,  she  had  seen  be¬ 
tween  two  houses  for  Afteen  years.  For  the 
cr.aek  seemed  to  bo  very  much  like  tlfteen  .veal's 
in  a  high-c!hulr,  and  the  long,  broad-shouldered, 
silver  river  seemed  lo  her  very  much  like  this 
world  about  whleh  she  bad  wondered. 
'i'Uey  i-ode  hi  t im  mills,  and  Deb  tjcmbied  to 
look  up  at  Mielr  Irownlng  wslls  and  to  meet  llielr 
liundi'eil  e.vca ;  but  some  of  the  girls  who  wore  the 
litUf)  pink  bows,  ami  who  knew  her,  came  nod¬ 
ding  bj  look  down  out  of  them,  and  slie  left  ofl 
tremhllng  bi  laugh  ;  then.  In  amluuto,  she  trem- 
bled  again,  tor,  all  .atoiiiM?.  without  any  warning, 
Miegreat  Amlriiscoggln  bell  pealed  Mm  tlnm  just 
over  lier  bead  and  swallowed  her  up  in  sound. 
She  turned  pale  with  dellgliiod  b-rror,  and  then 
she  lUislmd  with  tiTrilled  dellglil. 
Did  It  pray,  or  cry,  or  laugh?  Deb  did  not 
know.  It  seemed 'to  lmjM.bat  If  tho  w  hite  horw; 
would  carry  her  into  the  great  heart  of  that  Imll 
she  need  never  .sit  In  a  hIgh-chaIr  at  a  window 
.again,  hut  ride  and  ride  with  the  young  lady,  it 
si-i'iiii-d  to  her  like  forever  and  forever. 
'Ihe.v  turned  away  from  Amlroseoggln  without 
speaklug,  and  rode  and  roile.  Jtayllght  dimmed 
and  du.sk  dropped,  and  see!  all  the  town  l.s  ublazo 
wliJi  lights.  Deb  could  not  spe.ak — there  were  so 
many  Bghui. 
And  still  she  could  not  speak  when  they  rede 
lnb>  Brick  Alley,  and  Jim  McMaboney  ami  her 
nioMier,  ami  Urn  clilldren  who  did  not  wonder, 
came  out  to  meet  her  and  take  Imr  Imck  lo  her 
chair. 
Klm  wms  too  happy  lo  hjioak.  .sho  neisl  never 
wonder  any  mon!.  «iie  coiUd  remember. 
Hut  Mio  young  lady  did  not  want  her  to  speak. 
SJm  b)uched  her  whllo  horse,  and  wa.s  gone  in  a 
minute;  ami  when  Andro.seoggin  bell  rung  Umm 
IjriMi  to  sleep  that  night— tortile  young  lady  for¬ 
got  to  ask  foi-  her  Ciuny,  and  she  was  loo  tired  to 
go  to  the  party— 1  am  sure  I  cannot  tell  w  hich  was 
the  happier,  she  or  Deb. — EllzaheUi  sttturl 
FLOWERS  IN  LIBERIA. 
BARNUM  AS  A  YOUNG  LOVER. 
■  That  was  a  big  book  P.  T.  Barniim  wrote  about 
himself.  It  l.s  very  complete,  too,  but  there  is  one 
little  Incident  which  he  cither  foi-got  lo  mention, 
or  which  got  pled  when  tho  forms  went  lo  pre®.s. 
It  occurred  when  Mm  great  show’iuan  was  a  young 
man  and  a  resident  of  this  section,  lie  w.as  p.a.v- 
ing  ImpcluouH  atumllon  io  a  lady  living  in  New- 
bm.  Being  a  son  of  isjor  hut  honest  parents,  he 
was  obliged  Uj  \valk  m  cr  bj  Urn  village  which  con¬ 
tained  his  adored,  on  Mm  yuuday  nights  he  sTsited 
her.  M'hen  there  he  labored  under  uiioiber  and 
more  awkward  disadvantage.  'I’Ue  young  lad,v’s 
father  conceived  a  singular  and  most,  violent  dis¬ 
like  of  the  amiable  embryotle  shown lan.  This  ne- 
ceasll, ail'd  extreme,  eaiitlon  on  Mm  part  of  Mie 
lover,  and  be  was  equal  to  l.bc  (‘intTgency,  06  a 
matter  of  eoiirse.  Mis  Ingress  lo  the  house  was 
by  a  window  on  the  second  door,  which  he  reached 
by  springing  from  t  he  cover  of  a  cJstorn  curb,  and 
cabdilng  bold  of  the  window  ledge.  His  ingress 
was  enrcclcd  by  hanging  full  length  from  Mio  ledge 
and  then  dropjjlng  lo  the  clsleni  cover,  a  fall  of 
about  six  Indies. 
Ml)  Sunday  be  took  with  him  on  Mm  visit  a 
young  man  who  now  carries  his  silver  hairs  be¬ 
hind  a  Danbury  gnw  ery  eouuior.  They  reached 
Mm  place,  the  young  lady  saw  the  signal,  opened 
the  w  indow  ami  Mm.  famous  Barnum  sprung  up 
into  bliss.  The  y  oung  man  was  Ui  amuse  himself 
about  the  village  uutll  Mm  Mine  of  dep.aruire.  He 
uinus<.!d  himself.  It  don't  seem  possible  that  any¬ 
one  eould  be  so  brutal,  but  that  young  man  acMi- 
ually  removed  the  cover  of  the  cistern.  'I’hrn  he 
sat  down  by  the  femm  and  atecurrants,  and  calmly 
waited  for  the  result.  I’.  ’1’.  Dnlslmd  Ids  sparking, 
and  backed  out  of  the  w  indow  the  toll  leiiKlh  his 
hands  would  permit. 
“(Jood-by,'’lm  gasped  In  a  yvhlsiicr,  as  he  pre¬ 
pared  to  drop. 
“Mood-by,  I’lilMuy,”  she  whispered  back.  'I'hon 
lie  let  go,  and  Instaully  shot  from  sight  Into  the 
y  awning  nbys,s  of  darkness  ami  rain  water,  and  It 
he  had  been  of  solid  iron,  Imatod  bj  a  white  glow, 
be  f!0Uld  not  have  created  more  Of  a  coiurnotlon  in 
striking  the  yvater.  It  ts  not  necessary  to  repeat 
what  .Mr.  Barnum  said,  both  wJien  craw'llng  out 
of  the  cistern  and  during  the  eight  miles’ walk 
home,  but  shortly  after  ho  became  a  rnlvcrsallst. 
— Danhunj  Afir.s. 
iibliiitlj  'llrabhit). 
THE  WAY  WE  GROW  OLD. 
A  BnoKE.N  toy.  a  tank  that  held  away 
A  j'eaming  cbild-hoart  from  an  hour  of  play ; 
A  (.briatmaa  f  liat  no  Clirlfttinaa  idols  brought ; 
A  tangled  lestioii,  full  of  tauKlcd  thought; 
A  homcaick  boy ;  a  senior  gowned  and  wise ; 
A  Kliuippe  of  life,  when  lo !  the  curtains  rise 
Fold  over  fold, 
And  hnuKS  the  picture,  like  a  l*oundIpes  sea— 
The  world,  all  action  and  reality  - 
Ho  wp  (rrow  old. 
A  wedding,  and  a  lender  -wilp'p  eaty-ss ; 
A  prattling  Imlsj  Uip  jiarents'  life  to  bless; 
A  home  of  Joys  and  esrea  in  equal  part ; 
A  dreary  watching  with  a  Imavy  heart; 
And  DouUi'a  drnnd  angel  Itnocklnif  al  the  gate, 
And  Hope,  and  Courage  bidding  .Sorrow  wait 
Dr  lone  her  hold ; 
A  new-niaiip  grave,  and  then  a  brave  return 
To  where  the  iiros  of  life  Iriuniiihantburn— 
So  wc  grow  old. 
A  fortune  and  a  gcn’roim  nmed  of  fame, 
Mr  direful  ruin  ami  a  lumlsheil  name. 
A  HlipplDg  off  of  week  :tud  montli  and  year, 
Faster  ami  faster  a»  the  elosp  draws  near; 
A  grief  to-day,  and  with  to-uiorrow's  light, 
A  pleasure  that  transforms  the  sullen  night 
From  lead  to  gold ; 
A  chilling  winter  of  unchanging  stoi-in ; 
A  spring  roploto  with  dawns  and  sunsets  warm _ 
tio  We  grow  old. 
Old  to  oiirselveK,  but  children  yet  to  be 
In  tho  strange  cities  of  eternity. 
[iV.  F.  Evmino  Pont. 
- - — 
NR.  MOODY  ON  LOVE. 
H  .AIost  Of  the  African  tlowers  differ  from  IJmso  of 
y  tempcrab-^cllmauxs  In  three  striking  charaeterls- 
t!  tics,  viz.,  brilliancy’  ef  color,  luxununey  of  growt  h, 
r  and  Iti  emitting  their  odor  after  sunseU 
'I’he  la.Ht  iiccultarlty  has  been  admirably  dc- 
t  .sciibixl  liy  Moon.’,  In  siieaklngof  that  lovely  native 
s  of  India-  Mie  rragrant  jasmUic : 
!  "  'I'he  nowors  that  waku  wlillc  others  sleep, 
j  'i’he  timid  jasailiio  buds,  Hint  keep 
•  ’I’heir  frugnmee  to  iliemaolves  all  day, 
,  lint  whoa  the  sunlight  drives  away 
l.el  their  delicious  .Mirrot  out.’’ 
.  A  rare  and  very  beautiful  spcclixs  or  the  Jiusmliie 
grows  in  our  Ai'riciui  forests.  Tho  hushes  somiv 
times  rl.se  b)  Mm  hlglii  of  ton  fed.,  and  arc  densely 
j  covered  with  large  pinnate,  oval  leaves.  The 
,  starry  while  flowers,  with  bright  pitik  sterns, 
(clustAired  on  what  iKitanlsts  U*rm  a.  i-ynie,)  raise 
their  delicate  heads  In  striking  contrast  w  itli  the 
heavy  ma.ssos  of  glos-sy,  dark  green  leaves.  Their 
fragrance  Is  delightful.  If  wc  happen  to  awaken 
at  night  in  a  room  where  a  sprig  of  Mils  odorous 
llower  has  dropped,  we  are  almost  Inclined  Ui  hu- 
agliio  that,  lnsi,e:id^tr  the  dreadful  muluri.-t  wc 
HH'lvc  so  mucJi  to  keei)  out, 
“  The  nwoot  south  wind 
That  hreathos  upouii  bank  of  violets, 
Bb'allng  and  giving  odyr,” 
has,  by  somo  miraculous  means,  penetraled  our 
closely-shut  African  chuinbeiu '  Most  aptly  did 
the  ancients  call  this  sweet  llowcr  tho  “MdoS-ous 
Violet.” 
ISO  much  has  been  written  about  Mm  majestic 
lilies  of  the  tropics  that  it  is  only  necosH.ary  to  say 
th:it  many’ liner  varieties  llourisli  on  our  coast. 
I’erhaps  the  most  remarkableof  those  Is  the  while 
cliamleller  Illy,  so  called  , Ii\mi  having  sL\  narroAV 
petals,  four  ineliea  long,  pendent  from  beneath, 
and  six  stamens,  iin  Inch  sliorlor,  growing  out  of 
tho  margin  of  a  delicate,  fuauel-.sUupcd  coixtlla. 
The  Ae;iela.  Mimosa,  said  to  bo  u  native  of  tho 
XJle,  ts  a  beautiful  but  fragile  looking  tree,  from 
lirtoen  bt  twenty  foot,  high,  with  small  yellow 
flowers  pecjutig  out  from  among  Its  braiiolms  of 
Ilue,  sensitive  leaves,  and  giving  I'oi'th  a  most  de¬ 
licious  fragrance. 
In  passing  ihniugh  the  fore.sts  we  are  eoniinu- 
ally  struck  by  the  number  and  varlely  of  luxuri¬ 
ant  vines,  so  Cioscly  luujrwoven  with  the  bl  anches 
01  tall  trees  :is  bi  form  a  eoniplele  eaimiiy.  Most 
of  them  arc  covered  iMUi  small  wJilUt  llowei-s,  iip- 
parenlly  almost  too  delicate  to  touch. 
Many  of  Mm  ilowcr-bearlng  shrubs  of  temperate 
I  climes  when  iransplantod  ucrc  attain  U)  Mio  bight 
of  trees.  .Some  yinirs  since  a  memher  of  our  mis¬ 
sion  hroifglit  ueroH.s  the  Allautie  a  small  cutting 
or  the  Mleandei',  from  whicli  has  sprung  a  number 
Of  stately  trees,  .-ininc  la  the  garden  at  Havana 
have  already  growm  full  twenty  leet  high,  and  are 
almost  coitsuiiitiy  covered  with  double  pink  now-  I 
el's,  wlilch,  for  richness  and  beauty,  surpass  ariy- 
tlUngwebaVe  over  seen.  A  lovely  sight  ills  to 
see  these  magnllloent  trees  circled  by  birds  of 
brllllaut  plumage. 
Knougb  has  been  said  to  convince  our  readei’s 
that,  tlciwei-s,  siy  approjirl.ttely  sty  led  “  Mm  smiles  i 
of  Ood.”  have  not  ijoen  withheld  from  this  land  of  ; 
moral  diirlcnes.s.  Wc  earnestly pr.sy  that  the  day  i  ; 
may  come  when  t.ht«c  beautirul  giris  of  our  lleav-  I  j 
eiily  Futliur  may  ho  appreciated  by  a  redeemed  I  i 
and  enllghloned  people,  and  that  Atrtca,  .v/anVa-  '  i 
(lUv,  as  yvell  as  naturally,  may  “  rejoice  and  bios-  y 
som  as  the  rose.”—  ff'e.sf  African  Jieconl.  '  • 
HOW  MERIT  WAS  REWARDED. 
1VA.SSIM  Pasha,  when  Minister  of  War  for  Egypt, 
was  vcr.v  jiarl  lcular  us  to  the  jiersonal  uppea ranee 
of  Ills  ollieers,  and  Issued  strlngeut  orders  that 
they  should  never  appear  uushaved  lu  |)UbIIc. 
One  day  bo  met  in  Mm  street  a  lleutonant  who 
bad  “bearded”  the  Paslia  and  disregarded  his 
order. 
“  To  what,  regiment  do  you  belong  ?”  demanded 
the  Indignant  mlnlsicr. 
“To  the  —  Iteglment  at  Ab:a.s.soub,”  replied 
the  frlghl  oncd  lieutenant. 
“Met  inb)  my  carriage  at  once,  so  that  I  may 
earry  you  to  Mm  encampment  and  have  you  pub¬ 
licly  punished,”  was  the  stern  command  which 
followed. 
The  young  man  obeyed,  and  tbo  tw.aln  i-odo 
along  gloomily  enough  for  some  lime,  when  the 
Pasha  siojiped  hts  eurrbige  and  entered  a  shoi» 
for  a  few  momeiiis  lo  make  soino  trilling  pur- 
ehase.  Seizing  the  opporuirni  j ,  the  e.nlprltsprang 
from  the  velilele,  daru-d  Into  a  barber’s  stall,  and, 
minus  his  beard,  i-egauied  bis  post  before  Mie  i  i- 
turn  of  Ills  Jailer.  For  the  remainder  of  the 
route  the  onieer  burled  his  fueo  lu  his  bauds  and 
seemed  tho  picture  of  apprchenslnn.  .Mjassueh 
was  at  leiiglli  reached,  :ina  all  the  onieei-s  were 
assembled  lo  wltnes.s  the  degradation  of  Mielr 
comrade,  who  all  Mm  while  kept  well  Ju  the  rear 
of  the  minister. 
.“t'ome  forward,  you  son  of  a  dog!”  cried  the 
Irate  Pasha,  when  there,  stepped  before  him  an 
ollleer  with  a  fiiee  as  devoid  of  hair  as  a  baby’s 
Had  a  look  of  supremo  Innocence. 
His  excellency  gave  a  long  iwk  of  blank  asion- 
Isbinent,  and  Umn,  with  an  iippreclallve  smile 
breaking  over  bis  war-worn  features,  turned  to 
the  assombled  officers  and  said : 
“  Here,  genMeinen,  your  old  minister  Is  a  fool, 
and  your  young  lieutenant  Is  a  captain !” 
—  -♦♦-*-  - 
A  SINGULAR  SERMON. 
Fouii  gentlemen  and  an  old  mlulsiz’r  were  as¬ 
sailed  on  Mm  lilgbway  by  three  I'Obbers  who  He- 
ruanded  and  took  possession  of  Mielr  funds.  The 
old  minister  pleaded  very  hard  lo  he  allowed  a 
lltllv  money  .as  he  wa.s  on  his  way  to  pay  a  bill  in 
l.oudon.  Tim  lilglnviiymen  being  generous  fellow  s 
gave  bliii  all  bis  money  bock  ngiilii  on  eondlllon 
of  bis  preaching  tUem  a  sermon.  Accordingly 
they  retired  a  little  dlstnnec  from  Mm  highway, 
•and  tJie  minister  addressed  them  as  follows: 
Mentleiaen,  you  are  the  most  like  Mm  old  upos- 
I  Ics  of  luiy  men  Jn  the  world,  for  iliey  wore  w  ivn- 
(le.rers  upon  the  eiirih,  and  so  are  you ;  they  had 
heltUor  lands  nor  tenements  that  they  could  call 
their  own,  neither,  l  prcsiune,  li.ivc  you;  they 
were  despised  oi  all  but  those  of  their  own  pro¬ 
fession,  and  so,  1  believe,  are  you  ;  they  were  uu- 
allerably  fixed  lu  ibo  principles  they  profe.ssed. 
and  1  dare  swear  so  are  yon  ;  they  were  often  hur¬ 
ried  lulo  jaiLs  and  prisons,  all  of  which  suffering, 
I  presume  have  been  undergone  by  you;  tbelrpri> 
resskm  brought  iheuiall  lo  untimely  deaths,  and 
If  you  coutiuue  lu  your  course,  such  will  bo  your 
end.  But  In  this  point  you  differ  mightily ;  lor  the 
aposlles  a.seeiided  irom  a  tree  liibi  heaven,  where, 
1  am  alixiliU  .vou  will  never  come;  but  as  their 
deaths  were  eoiipeiisaleU  with  eternal  glory; 
yours  will  be  rewarded  avIMi  eternal  shame  and 
misery  unless  you  im-iid  your  mannei's. 
1  Fkom  a  sermon  on  “  Love,”  recently  delivered 
e  by  Mr.  Moodv  at  the  Hippodrome  In  I  Ids  city,  avo 
{  take  the  following : 
,  1  have  oHcii  thought  I  wouldn’t  have  but  one 
■X  text;  If  I  thought  I  cotdd  make  tliOAVorld  oidy 
t,  believe  that  Mod  Is  love,  1  would  only  lake  Mi.-it 
I,  text  and  go  up  and  dOAvn  the  earth  trying  Ui  ooun- 
{  teract  Avhal  Satan  has  la-en  telling  them— that 
.  Mod  Is  not.  love.  He  has  made  tho  Avorld  Itellevo 
It  cffeetually.  it  would  not  take  iweuty-four 
hours  W  tuitki:  the  Avorld  come  Ui  Moil  if  you  eoiUd 
only  make  them  bolleve  Mod  Is  love,  if  you  cun 
really  make  .a  man  beUeve  you  love  him,  yini  have 
^  won  lilm;  and  If  I  could  only  make  people  really 
,  believe  that  Mod  loA’es  theng  aaIuiI.  a  rush  avc 
would  see  for  the  Kingdom  of  Mod!  Ob,  bow 
they  Avould  rush  lul  But  man  lias  got  a  false. 
I  Idea  about  Mod,  and  he  will  not  belleA’e  thut  He  is 
^  a  Mod  of  love.  It  Is  because  he  don’t  know  Him. 
Now,  In  Paul's  farcAvell  leller  lo  the  CorliiMilaiis 
In  the  l.t  chapter,  ad  forinl hhiuH,  he  siiy.s,  “  Final¬ 
ly,  brethren,  fan-well,  jje  perfect,  Jle  of  gorsl 
comfort.  Bo  of  one  mind.  Live  in  peaee,  and  the 
Mod  or  love”— im calls  Him  the  Ood  of  love— “and 
peai’c  Shull  be  Avlth  you.”  Then  .lobn,  Avbo  was 
better  aequaJuu-d  Avlth  Christ,  telling  us  about 
the  love  UfKl  bins  lor  this  perishing  world,  Avrlles 
in  Mils  epistle  In  rlie  evening  of  bis  life  these 
words:  “  Beloved,  let  us  lovoono  unotber,  tor  love 
is  of  Mod,  and  every  one  lliai  lo\eilj  l.s  born  of  Mod 
and  kuoAvctJi  Mixl,  and  be  tliul  Jovetb  not  knowctli 
not  Mod.  for  Mod  Is  love.”  We  built,  achurob  In 
Chicago  a  lew  years  ago.  and  wc  were  so  anxious 
l«  make  people  believe  Mod  ts  love  that  Ave thought 
if  we  could  not  preach  It  Into  their  hn-irts  we  would 
burn  It  In,  and  .so  right  over  the  pulpit  we  had  the 
Avoids  put  lu  gas  jeus,  “tiod  is  love,”  and  everj- 
night  we  had  it  there,  A  man  going  along  there 
one  night  glanced  In  through  the  door  and  .saw 
tho  text.  He  Avas  a  poor  priMllgui,  and  he  passed 
on,  and  as  he  Avulked  luvay  ho  said  to  liimself 
“Wodlslovc?  No.  Mod  Is  not  love.  Mod  does 
not  love  me.  He  does  not  lovo  me,  for  l  am  a 
poor,  mlserablfl  sinner.  If  Mod  was  love.  Ho  would 
love  me.  Mod  is  not  love.”  Vet  there  the  text 
was,  hurtling  down  into  hla  soul.  And  lie  Avent 
on  a  lllUe  Avays  further,  and  turned  around  and 
came  buck  and  went  liitzi  the  meeting.  He  didn’t 
hear  what  the  sermon  amis,  but  the  text  got  into 
Ids  heart,  and  that  Is  Avhat  we  want.  Jt  Is  of  very 
little  account  Avhat  men  say,  If  Mod’s  word  only 
gew  Into  the  Heart.  And  be  stayed  after  the 
meeting,  and  1  found  him  there  Aveepiug  like  a 
ehlld;  but  us  I  tmf(.ilded  the  Bcrlpture  and  told 
him  how  Mod  bad  loved  him  from  his  earliest 
chlldboral  all  along,  the  light  of  the  Mospcl  broke 
into  bis  mind,  and  he  went  away  rejoicing.  This 
would  bo  the  best  meeting  to-day  we  nave  had 
.vet.  If  we  could  only  make  this  audience  belleA-e 
that  God  Is  love. 
— ■  »»♦ - - 
PHYSICAL  BENEFIT  OF  SUNDAY. 
Bcnuay  Is  God’s  special  present  to  the  working 
man,  and  one  of  his  chief  objects  is  to  prolong  Ids 
life,  and  preserve  enieleiii  bis  working  tone. 
In  Mm  vital  system  It  works  like  a  eompensatloti 
jiond;  It  ropleiitebes  the  spirit,  the.  elaslleliy  and 
vigor,  Avhleh  the  lust  sl.x  days  have  drained  UAvay 
and  supplies  the  fOice  wldeii  mio  till  Mie  six  day.! 
siieceedlng;  andln  Ibeeconono’  of  extsience  It  aii- 
hwenithe  same  puipose  us  In  Ibemmomy  of  in¬ 
come  is  .answered  by  a  savings  hank.  The  frugal 
tinaii  who  puts  away  a  pound  to-day,  and  smother 
pound  Jiexi  mont.b,  and  who  In  a  quiet  way  Is  put¬ 
ting  by  his  staled  pound  from  time  to  lime,  w-ben 
he  grows  old  and  frail  goto  not  only  l  be  same 
pounds  back  again,  but  a  good  many  pounds  be¬ 
sides.  And  1  he  eonsclentlous  man,  who  husbands 
tine  day  of  Ids  o-xlsteuee  everj'  Aveek— avIio,  Instead 
of  ullowbig  .Siuiiliiy  to  be  train  plod  and  torn  lu  the 
hurry  and  sj-rumble  i>i  hfe,  treasures  It  iip_the 
ly  Sunday. 
