The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on October 18, 1893 · Page 6
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

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Wednesday, October 18, 1893
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dtfote lht> Mt null into tlie forge paekiiig cas^i nutate* the hammer 6tt the' shelf in th& corner. "It's too bad, Madge,'* he said, turning nnd looking at ine sadly. "This old room lias always seemed like home. How different it looks now.'' I did not speak; 1 could* not for the great, choking sobs that 'orisei in my throat, so for answer I only pressed the baby closer to me and let the tears that woiikl not be controlled drop down on his little, curly head. Harry canio over and took us both In his arms. "Cheer up, little woman," he sntd, brushing away my tears. "It's our last night, and a soldier's wife must be brave. We have everything to hape for and not much to fear. Have I not. cstno unscathed through many a battle? I am troubled now, chiefly, about the .welfare of you nnd Harry Temple, Jr., during ' my absence. W'C must surely decide upon something to-night, Sludge. Where cnn you stay?" I buried my .face In baby's curls and sobbed ;iloud. "It makes no difference lo nif where I nm when you nre Kvra;.-," T said hopelessly. "We can live any plnce."' "But yon can't," llnrry answered, au- thoritalively, "and oven if you could, whore is that place? It's too bad orders en me so unexpectedly." During the few days that elapsed •since Harry's regiment had received its 'inarching orders, we had tried in vain to make some satisfactory arringc- nieuts for little Harry' and tfiyself. I .had proposed keeping house in two or three rooms in a pleasant part of tho neighboring; city, or in the country, but to that Harry had positively said nay on' the ; grounds that I was too young and pretty to live alone-, Once he had mentioned sending me to his parents, ini.t I had expressed such unfeigned horror at the mere thought of coming in •contact with people that had disowned him because of my inferior, position, that that scheme had been dismissed without, further consideration. T had no people of my own lo return to, lience our qmuulry as to where I should go. No that night: when we were brought face to face with the question that, must be decided Immediately, our •deliberations were grave indeed. "I have it," Harry said at last, after we bad rejected a score or more of wild plans. "Tho.ro's my ui.'.rlo, who lives up in Hereford—-" •"But you wouldn't; wend rue there. Harry," [ interrupted hi dismay. •"Why, you've always said he was •crazy." j "Not crazy, dear. Just a litle ec- i •centric, that's all. Don't object," he said as I commenced to shako my head dubiously. ."There's nothing else left to do. Besides," and he waxec). enthusiastic over his revelations, as he termed it, "you've always been seeking a mission. Here it is. Uncle is a recluse: a vei'tible hermit, in fact. Go up there iind reform him. Let him know iiat life is worth living, ai'tor all. Wny. 1 -shall not be surprised to Mud you :i:td , ihe old gentleman .-utertaluing ihe | •country when I return." i '"But perhaps he will not like this : intrusion," I suggested, in tho hope of ; finding some loophole of esc-.ipt 1 . i "Probably not at first," Haivy assent- j •od, indifferently, "but what c.-m he do j about it? He cannot turn you away, j Ho would not dare to do that and after i you have been there a few days ho will | fall in love with his pretty niece and never want to give her up. It is splendid idea, Madge. I can go away now, comforted by tho thought that you will be safe and comparatively happy gnWMHf slSBd «5n8 wllSin 1 Jfttctgect to bd Ills hiftStef, nrirt, io&kiHg tip tit htm fhiploMiigty, I said' fu broken sen' tencea: - "I'm your nephew's wife. Har* ry Templo'9 wife. His t'ogtmt-nt has orders to march. He did not know what «* do with us, so ho sent Us here. Ho old not have time to write you of It. I am sorry, t could not help it. 1 had to come." ^ f , ' The awe-struck, frightened look with which he regarded mo' when I first stepped before him partially', vanished proceeded with my explanation, , I. had finished speaklirg a light appeared at the lower end of the hall, mid an elderly, motherly faced woman tamo town rd us. My uncle did not nn'- ..TT " 1C> i"' <m<nl "*f to K?t he shidf -Here, Jlartln, is n young 4 wdmhn, my nephews wife, who has conic to us". dee what you can do for her." Then seeming to become obvious of our presence, he entered his room and left us to the care of the servants. "Don't mind the master's queer ways, my dear," the woman said, in a voice so nilod with gentleness and pity that the tears that hud been repressed dur- tdtichetf Hj It ft** no" SQlfsfiiMtlfll'Dlud-elotlir w-ell trlatnW»l& brass bMtohsJ-thi* tcfy, garment Ifftr- fy hftd 'froth •Whofi'hb'nliiUcRcitl ftfrfly They told ino the story' when Jf Able to listen. Hfti-ry had been wWtad- ed before he was' reported as -..led and as soon as he could btovel, had ireea invalided hoine. He had' nrrlyed at the hall in the night tline and not wish* ing to disturb us had entered the east room through the Window that 'I had left 'open,, thinking to pass the' night there and ho it -was' who had ..seemed to my distorted hnngiiiatton the spirit of that other man, stepping forli frdtii the canvas whereon the body wn3 liln* • ug our ride from the station to the ha 1 flowed afresh. "It has given him quite, a turn, h -eeinA' you and the baby coming In, this way, and I dc«'t wonder at it. How like her you are." "Like, whom'/" I asked, but she was ascending the stairway with the baby and did not heed the question. I did not care to repeat it, but followed her wearily. "I'm sorry that we've no cncerful, homelike .place for yon tonight," she said, stopping outside a door in the upper hall. "If we had only known of your coming! I will put yon in the room next to mine, now, if you don't mind, and to-morrow will have another prepared for and the baby. AVhat a bonny Is." T ninny invalids aroused Col. Temple. and before we had fully recovered lie. had become a valued companion' and dear friend. Then by and by they inquired- into ''the history of my ; family and instead of being proved to a "cousin or something of that sort,' which •Martha had said would bo "queer," my identity was unmistrtkcably 'established: iis the granddaughter of Col. Temple. Wo live at 'the hall yet 'and, Harry's 1 . prediction as to my mission has been in a. measure verified, for there is not a more agreeable host in the neighborhood than our grandfather. we you lad he was soon comfortably domiciled in the old hall and became accustomed t. the solitude, which I had expected !o be irksome, but which, on the contrary, was more desirable than any other life could have been at that time. Li trio Harry and Martha were my sole companions. I never saw. my host. The day after my arrival he had (-cut a message by Martha to the effect that I was welcome at the hall and for 1113 to make myself as happy as possible Beyond that I had no communication with him. and I sometimes smiled at the thought of Harry's prophecy regarding the gayety in which we were to participate. So the days and weeks, and even months, were passed in caring for my boy. roaming over the ground and writing long letters to Harry, from whom I heard tolerably regularly. But at last his letters ceased and then came weeks KAISER An WILHELM AS OOURR MET. El'ibowvtc Itltclieu Deimirtihent [nisi or a to Ilia Ciiistroitomlc Tunic. The emperor as an authority on the art of gastronomy Is facile princope; at least he thinks he is, and to hoar him talk upon culinary matters one would think him the greatest of living gourmets. But like everything else YVilliam goes In for, he overdoes it, and ho has overdone his cooking to such an extent that it. is a hodgepodge of every school without any of the subtle characteristics of either. For in-, stance, his majesty is inordinately ffliid of truilles and has them introduced into almost, every dish of which he partakes in the most, ludicrous fashion and quite regardless of the accepted canons of culiunry art. It is a womt-U', to his courtiers how tho delicate frame of his majesty can possibly stand tho perpetual assaults made upon it by the quantity of exciting articles of food, such as bisque, etc., in which he indulges. Tho court kitchen is under (he control and superintendonce 'of the court marshal's department; one branch of which is known as,the court kitchen oflice. The master of the kitchen has several chefs under, him and each of these individuals has from four .to ten bft. •TALiV»A$B "HSLF'F'Ub PRECHES Test , IJe'lp from tiio'Sttnctua^*'— A of Unusual fowor Preaohdd to Thousands, • *Ue , Oct. 15.—Thac"hilrft?ter of thi hymns given' 'put by Bev. l>r. Tahnftge in the Brooklyn tabernacle tb's t'oreuoon !;a1led for thp ;utili8iial power of congrega tlbtial sfuglti^, orgftu arid corndt, tind the voices o£ thd thou-ahds of-worshipers rnnde the place resound with tousle. The sub 1ect -was, > :'.'Heipfill •'OhtirchoV the text ;;pingi Psalms '#): \i: "ceud tlieo help from tho sanctuary." . If you should ask, fifty men what tlio church is, they would give you fifty different answers One man vvould say, "It is a convention of hypo- Rrites. 1 ' Another, ''It is an assembly of people who, feel themselves a pi-eat leal hotter then others." : Another, 'It is a p.liiro for gossip, whore wolver- ne dispositions devour raeh other." filled with watllnj,' and Swing that he was determined and .having"nothiug more feasible to r.d- •vunt'e I remonstrated no longer, but re- •6ig.""dly submitted to his decrees. I-.: the early light of a rainy Saturday I bade good-'by to the then dismantled •yu-racks that'had been our home during the several months that the troops 'had been stationed at Windom and with Harry's farewell kiss on my l?ps •and IIM "God bless yon" ringing in my ears I started for Hereford. At 0 •o'clock that night I stood in the wayside, north country station and helpless- ay asked the solitary individual who guarded the place what I should do; a <pjery whose answer was solemn assurance that he did not know. •"It's a mighty funny thing, anyhow, •tills visiting old man Temple. Why, I've been here nigh onto a dozen year, •mi' I can take »iy oath on it that you're the first person that's ever got off'n tout train to go to see 'im. Some says he's stark, staring mad, an' others says he's just a-broodlng an' a-saving, that's all. Anyhow, it'll be mighty lonesome tor a young woman like you, down there to that hall." "Probably," I replied, despairingly, taking tho child in my arms a*id drying •my tear-stained, swollen eyes, "but I •am not there yet. Can you not help me in some way?" "Puuno. There's only one way at most. You slaj r here an' let me go acrost the fields and see If the blacksmith won't -take you over. He's got «. team nu' mebbo he will. It's doubtful, though, for it's full six miles to •Col. Temple's, but it's (lie only chance. Just you wait an' I'll soon find out." The blacksmith consented to take us for a "consideration," and, beaten upon by streams of rain from which the ca-n- vas covering of the oart but poorly sheltered us, we rode through almost tire-deep mud to the hall. With the •exception of a faint light in one of the tower windows the place was wrapped iin darkness when we arrived. The •blacksmith pulled the heavy iron •knocker vigorously again and again, '••904 after what seemed to me an eternity the door vyas opened cautiously tad some one asked impatiently; "Who is It?" "It's a lady." explained my friend of <the anvil. "She's a'jpost drowned, too. 'I'd advise you not to stand thre gaping -any longer,-but take 'er in." "But the master;" the'other began, Eti.wrly, ilirn, T scvDUPrt and ono day I saw the beloved 11:11110 for which I had boon sonrchin^. Thoro it was in the list of the killed, "Hnn-y Temple, captain Thirty-fourth regiment." I was ill for weeks after that. "Wo did not. think yon would live Hirou;;h it," ^Inrlhn told me when I had iveovercd suiliclontly to listen and 1alk a little. "The master has been in an awful worry about yon. I suppose he vroiihl never have anted so toward yr.u. if yon did not. look so much like her." - i ' "It: was the remark she had made on the night of my coining, and again I asked: "LiUo whom'/" "His son's wife," she answered, 'In ! a whisper, as though it were a for- ! bidden subject, and even the walls j might betray her. "He was a wild j yomig man and married against his | father's will, just: like yourself and Master Harry, my dear. Tlioy had ; been married two or three years before n ! we knew it, and then he made it known : so sudden like; brought her and the baby home one night—it was oh ;his. birthday—In a pelting rain, and -the master drove them away In tlio midst of the storm. Oh, it was terrible. It has been twenty-three years since it all happened, but it comes before me now as plain as anything. The poor young couple died soon after and we never heard what became of the baby. Died, too, probably. A few ycm-s ago the master tried to find some trace of it, but failed. My, but: you did look like that young thing the first night you came. 1 should not wonder if he took you for a ghost." "Who was tlio ; r '!rl.V" I asked, partially forgetting my own troubles by becoming interested in the story. "Her name was Willis and she lived at Hillsboro, in the south counties." "Willis?" I exclaimed. "That was rnv name and Hillsboro was my home." Martha looked at me curiously. ions for roasts, entrements, fish and ( entries and pastry. The stoves in the heartache. I imperial kitchen are of iron, and sauce- 10 papers, I pans arc placed on an iron grid, by ne disposit \nother, "It is a place for the eulti- ation of superstition and cant." Anther, ''Itis an arsenal where theo- ogians go to get pik\saml imiskets and shot." Another, "It is an art gallery, where mvn go to admire grand arches, and exquisite fresco, and musical warble, and the Dautesque in gloomy imagery." Another man tr * • 1 r. i« mute otifselve > hftppy, xf e must, make others happy. - My.tliotdgSr tell? us of 'A fnpli ion, who played his lyre ithtll the mountains were inoved' and the walls of Thebes arose? b'at i-eliffJott-hos a ttHghtier story to tell of how Christian may build whole temples of e|ter- nul joy, ftnd lift the round earth into sympathy with the skies'. T tarried many nights in London, and I used to hour the bells, the. suiiall bells, of the city,, strike the ' hntir-6-i aififhi— ottfr, 'two, throe, four,' iind (if ti!.r they werib done Striltingf .tne hour ofnig'ht then the.gTeat'.t-t. Paul's tatheHral .Would come iij to 'mark .the. hours, rn'aldn# all tho others seem utterly insignificant ns \yith niighty tongue in announced the hour of the n.g'ht, every stroke an overmastering' boom. My* friends,"ifc was intended (vthat till tho lesser sounds of ihe world should be drowned out in the mighty longfitoof lional song", boating 1 ayaiust thegMtes of lio.'iven. ..Do yuu know how they hours in heaven? '.! hey iavc iio clocks, as they have 10 urn candle", but of hallelujah a great pendn- across leaven fiorn eternity to eternity. "Where are your people'/" she interro- his °wu liking, gated. means of which their contents are boii- od in an incredibly short, space of time. If you could peep into what is called tho roasling-room you would wee huge stoves let into the walls. The kaiser is very fond of steaks, so there is ii clever device for cooking them and they are sent to table a point. A fan-wheel placed In the big' chimney works im •enormous turnspit, which Is regulated by clockwork. All the pastry is cooked in different ovens and fireplaces, so that tlio pies and tarts, etc., are never tainted by the odors of the meat, game, fish, vegetables and the like. When the appetizing trifles nre cooked they are all put into large glass receptacles —cupboards, they might, bo termed— until the time comes to serve them to tho imperial family. It is not unusual for a telegram to reach tho master of the kitchen bidding him to hurry to any part of tho country where- the' kaiser may bo temporarily staying. Then he has to take the whole of the personnel with him, and the. pots and pans and molds (not forgetting the provisions, liquors, etc., etc.), and a special train of cars dashes off with the ton to la boutique on board. This frequently'happens when the emperor Is at the maneuvers and when Ivo wants to let. his generals and the-.foreign military .attaches see that ho knows how to give a good dinner. Usually tho kalserin draws up the menus, and right well she does It. Her imperial majesty is a very strict economist, like all her countrywomen, and never permits anything like waste to go on if she knows it. When, however, there is a 'big" dinner or lunch or supper on, the empress puts the responsibility on tho master of the kitchen, who devotes as much attention to hla work as Vat el used to, and who takes his bills of fare to the kaiser for that august porsonago's approval. William II. is rather exigent in those matte;*, as in all others, and ho will frequently erase this dish and insert one more to "What Us it, John?;' I heard another saying within. "A lady ca.we here to-night, sir, What " ' aud I had descended from the cart i jJM,i?aliy Jp i»y aruif t I have none. I always lived with my mother's sister. "It is a little queer," she said, thoughtfully. "You do look so much lilce nor. u would be strange if you should prove to bo a cousin or something of that sort, now, wouldn't it? Tho yoiing master was a soldier, too, and a handsomer man I never saw. There is a portrait of him In thu oast room down stains." j That afternoon I stole away from j Martha aud wont down to the seldom j i.-nierwl apartment whore the plciuie i was hung. It represented him as he i appoaivii in uniform after a long ill' ness and I fancied my own Harry would I have, looked just mi nad not his wounds proved fatal. All that night, .whether sleeping or waking, the pictured face down slairs haunted me and became a frightfully real image of that of my husband on tho field of battle. Toward morning I ) yielded to that wild desire to look again at the portrait, and taking the baby up in a heavy woolen shawl, I descended to the east room. Through the shutters which I had opened that afternoon aud neglected to closo, the moonbeam^ came and fell athwart the life-sized painting. As I looked it gocrncd to take a distinct form and—was 1 dreaming o,r, was it possessed of motion 't I stood lu the middle of the room, pressing the child, who had awakened, close to iny heart, that was well-nigh numb with terror. No, it was no dd'uslon. It was coming toward, us. I heard the child, that had no kjHMyiedge of ghosts or goblins, cry out, 'Tapa! Papa'," and then a. blissful uncoiisciousui'bs overcame me. ^ When I'next wwokc Martha'sat by the bedsldu with the child Ja her top. On a chair. jj,ear by was » co^t, a §oj- coat.- I mjt out -my h.an4 afld ONLY WANTED A PIN. A 1) >zen Men "\V«re Appealed to In Vain, but 11 Woman ('nine AloiiK. A young woman stood at the corner of Wabash avenue nnd Madison street and waited a long time for a delayed cable car. During the term of her wailing she noricmt Uvo me-n standing near to her—noticed thorn particularly because of the extraordinary conduct of the younger one. He approached every man that drew near and the ono accosted always answered with a negative shake of the head, whereupon thu young man drew back with a baffled look, only to accost the next passerby. After ten -or twelve men had been approached in this fashion the young woman quite forgot about her car, so interested and curious was she. Then, to her joy, an old friend of hers came by, was subjected to tho same ardent questioning, replied in the same negative fashion and crossed over to the place whore she was standing. Now came her opportunity. "Oh. Mr. Smith, she exclaimed, "I don't want to be curious, but do toll me what that nice-looking young man wanted. He's been asking ever and ever so many people, and not one seems to be able to do the thing he wants!""My dear young lady," said the acquaintance, "that unfortunate man in trying |to.Borrow a pin!" "Uoodnesa!" said a stout old' lady Standing by. "And he lias been such a fool as to keep 011 asking all these Mien for one. Why didn't he a'sk the first woman he nit-tV" and bho waddled pver and presented him with a coupjb of sbm-u-poiuted English plus, plucked from as toproyjaed i^iciMOou in the I wsterlous yeee0$<}9 of her <jMj, would say, '-Ifc is the best place on earth except my own home. If I forget thoe, t), Jerusalem! lot my right hand forget her cunning 1 ." Now, my friends, whatever the church is, my text tells you what it ought to be; a groat, practical, homely omnipotent help, "fc'ond tlioo help from the sanctuary." The pow ought to yield restfulness to the body. M he color of the upholstery ou^ht to yield pica-sura to tho eye. The cntirp service oug'ht to yield strength for tho m.oil and struggle of every da}' life. The Sabbath ought to he harnessed to all the six days of the week, drawing them in the right dirccti n. The chu rch ought to bo a magnet, visibly and mightily affecting all the homes Of :hc worshippers. Every man gets •oti'jhly jostled, gets abused, gets cut, gets insulted, gets slighted, gets cxas- xjrated. l!y the time the Sabbath comes, he V'.asan accumulation of six lays of annoyance, and that is a starveling church'service which has not strength enough to take that accumulated annoyance and hurl it into jerdition. Tho • Luslncss man sits lown iu tho church headachey from he week's engagement*. Perhaps he wishes he had tarried at home on the oungo with the newspapers and the Uppers. That man wants to be cooled i J ft', and graciously diverted. The first vave of the roligi .us service ought to lash uli-ar over the hurri'-ane docks, ind leave him dripping with holy nnd lad aud heavenly emotion ' Send heo help from the s-.inutuary." In tho first place, san tnavy help 'light to come from the music. A toman dying in England persisted iu singing to the lasc moment. The attendants tried 10 persuade her to slop, saying it would exhaust her and make her disease worse. She answered, '•! must sing: 1 am only practising for the heavenly choir." Music on earth is a rehearsal im- music in heaven. If you and 1 ii.ro' going to take part in that great orehe..st<a, it is high tinio that wo were stringing and thrnmmin? our harps. They tell us that Thalbcrg- and (.iottsuhalk never would go into a concert uutil they had first in private rehearsed, although they wore such masters of the instrument. Aud can it be that we expect to take part in the great oratorio of heaven if wo do not rehearse here? Tint I am not speaking of the next world. Sabbath song ought to set all the week to music We want not more harmony, not more artistic expression, but more volume in our church music. Now, J am no worshipper of noise, but I believ-f that if our American churches would with full heartiuessof soul and full emphasis of voice sing the songs of /ion, this part of saor d vvorsliir> would have tenfold more power than it has now. Why not tako this part, of tho sacred service, and lift it to whore it ought to be? AH tho imnoyauces of lifo might bo drowned out of tuat sacred song. Do you toll me that it is not fashionable "to sing yory loudly'. 1 Then, I say, away with the fashion. AVu dam back tho great i.iis&issippi of congrega ional singing, Iind let a few drops of melody trickle through the dam. I say, take away the dam, and let the billows roar on their way to the ocean iu heart of Hod Whether it is fashionable to sing loudly or not, let us s:ng with all possible emphasis. We hear a great deal of the art of singing, of musie as an entertainment, of nnisic as u recreation. It is h gh lime we heard something of musie as a help, a practical help. In order to do this, wo must only have a few hymns. Now tunes and new hymns every Sunday make poor congregational singing. Fifty hymns are enough for fifty years. The' Episcopal rluiruh prays the same prayers every Sabbath, aud year after "year, and century after century. For that reason they have the hearty responses. Let us take a hint from that fact, and let us sing the same songs Sabbath after Sabbath, Only m that way i-an we come to the full force of this exercise. Twenty thousand years wi 1 not wear out r the hymns of WMiam Cowper, and Charles Wesley, aud Isaac Wiitts. Suppose now e icii p r- soa in this audience has brought all the annoyances of the last three hundred and sixty- five ilays. Fill this room to the ceiliag with sacred song, and. you would dvown out all those annoyances of the 8(!5 days, and yoa would drown them out forever. Organ and cornet are only to marshal the .voice. Let the voice fall into line, and in companies, and in brigades, by storm take tho obduracy and tin of the worid. If you cannot sing for yourself, sing for others. Uy trying_ to give others good cheer, you will briog good cheer to your own heart. Wlien Londonderry, Ireland, was besieged mauy yearaiwo, the people inside the city were famishing, una a vessel came up with provisions, brtt the vessel ran on the river bank and stuck last The enemy went down with laughter and derision to board the vessel, when the vessel gave a broadeide fire against ib,e ty the shoak;,was, tuined Let those refuse to sing • \\lio iiover know our God; Hut children ot th« heavenly Should speak their joys abroad. i Again I remark, that*sanctuary help ought to come from the sermon. Of u th'iiumnd people in this or any other audience, how many want sympathetic help'.' Do you guess a hundred'.' Do you gitess five hundred? You have guessed wrong. 1 will toll you just the proportion. Out of a thousand people iu this audience there are just one thousand who need sympathetic help. These young people want-it just as much as the oUi. Tho old people sometimes seem to think they have a monopoly of the rheumatisms and the neuralgias and tho headaches and the physical disorders of the, world: but 1 tell you there are no worse heartaches than are felt by some 'of these youu••• people. Do yon know that much of the work is done by the young? Raphael died at 37; Richelieu at ill; Gustavus Adolphus died at, 3S; Innocent III. tarne to his mightiest influence at H7; Corieii conquered Mexico at 30: Don John won Lepatito at 35; Grotius was attorney-general at 2-1, and 1 have .noticed amid all classes of men that some of the severest battles and tho toughest work comes before thirty, Therefore vve must have our sermons and our exhortation in prayer-meeting all sympathetic with the young. And so with those people further on in life. -What do these, doctors and lawyers and mer- cnauts and mechanics care about the abstractions of religio >'.' \Yhat they w. nt is help to bear the whimsicalities of patients, the browbeating* of l.-gal opponents, the unfairness of customers, who have plenty of fault-finding for crery imperfection of handiwork, but no praise for twenty oxcol- lenres. What does that brain-racked, hiind-blistered nnin care for Swingle's •'Doctrine of Original Sin," or Augustine's ''Anthropology?" You might as well go to a man who has the pleurisy and put on his side a plaster made out of Dr. Purr's "Treatise on Medical Jurisprudence." While- all of a sermon may not bo helpful alike to all, it'it bo a Christian s-rmon preached by 11 Christian man, there will bo help lor every one somewhere. We go into an apothecary store We see others being wailed on; we do not complain because wo do not immediately get the medicine: we know our turn will come af;or awhile. An I so while all parts of a sermon may not bo appropriate to onv case if wo wait pruyeriully bjfore tho sermon is through, wu-shall have the divine prescription. I say to ihose young men who come here Sabbath by Sabbath, and who arc going to preach the gospel, thes* theological students — I .say lo them, we want in our sermons not, more metaphysics, nor more imagination, nor more logic, nor more profundity. What wo want in our sermons and Christian exhortations is more sympathy. When Father Taylor preached in tho Sailors' 1'ethel at J{ s- t,on, the jack tars felt that they had help for their duties among the ratlines and the forecastles. When Ilichard Weaver preached to the operatives in Oldham, England, all tho workingmen felt that t.ioy had more grace for the spindlos. When Dr. t^outh preached "to kings aud princes and princesses, all the mighty men and women who heard him 1'eit prep'iration for their high h tation. Again I reimirk, that sanctuary help ougnt to come ihrough the praye's of all the people. • The door of the eter- from Albany to Suffald by canal-boat or do all Ihe battling of th<s world with bow and ftrroW, as with the old Style of dhuroh to meet the exigencies of this day. Unless th'6 church in our day will adapt itself to the time, it will become extinct. The people reading newspapers and books all the week in alert picturesque and resounding Style, will haVe tto patienc'e'with Sabbath hum-drum. Vi e have n& objections to band& and surplice, and*'•all tho paraphernalia-of iclerioal.lifp: b'ut these things make no impression— make no more imprcss'on op the great mass, s of the peoLle than the ordinary business suit that you wear in Wall streel. A tailor cannot make a minister, Komo of the poorest preacliers wore tho ..best c'olhes; afld many a iHlekTvbr.rtsfntiU'has 'dismounted from tho saddlo.-bags, and in his linen duster preached a sermon that shook earth and heaven with its Christian eloquence. No new gospel, only the old gospel in a way suited to the time. No new church, but a church to- be tho asylum, the inspiration, the practical sympathy,, and the eternal help of the , back J»tu the ptre&m, o,u4 all was well. Qt ye WAO are high and dry on the vpcks of melancholy, give a Broade ^flr'e fi| sffng ^eftjues' ypuf ' nal storehouse is hung on one hinge, a gold hinge, the hinge of prayer, and when the whole audience lay hold of that door, it must come open. There are hero many people spending their first Sabbath after some treat bereavement. What wi 1 your prayi-r do for them? How will it help the lomb in that man's heart? Hera are people who have not bten in church before in ten years; what will your pr yer do for them by r lling over the r soul holy memories? Here are people in crises of awful temptation. They are on the verge of despair,, or wild blundering., or theft, or suicide. What will your prayer do for them this morning in the way of giving them strength to resist? Will you be chiefiy anxious about the fit of the glove that you put to your forehead while yon prayed? Will you b« chiefly critical ot the rhetoric of the pastor's petition? No. No. A thousand people will feel ''that prayer is for me,' and at eyery step of the prayer chains ought to drop off and temples of K n ought TO crush into dust, and jubilees of deliverance ought to brandish their 'trumpets. In most of our churches we have three prayers — the openintr prayer, what is called the "long prayer," and the e osing prayer. There are many people who spend the first prayer in arranging their apparel after entrance, and spend tlio second prayer, the "long prayer," in wishing it were through, and spead the last prayer in. preparing to start for home. The most insignificant part of every religions service is the sermon. Mhe more important parts are the scripture lesson and the prayer. The sermon is on y a man talking to a man. The scripture lesson is God talking to man. Prayer is man talking to Uod. Qh, if we under6to.pA the grandeur and the of this exercise of prayer, iu- of being a. dull o \ereise we would imagine that the room was fu}l of people. But while half of tho doors of the church are to be set open toward this' world, the other half of tho doors must be sot open toward tuo next* Von ana I tarry'here only a brief space. Wo want somebody' to teach us how to get out of this ii'o at the right,'time and in • tho right way. Some fall ont : of life, some go stumbling outi of life, some go groaning^ out of life, some go cursing' out of life. 'We want to go singing, rising, rejoic'ng, triumphing. We want half the doors of the church set in that direction. Wo want half tho prayers that way, ha'f the sermons that way. We \yant to know how to get :ishore from the tumult of this world into the land of everlasting peace. ' We'-" do not want to stand doubting and shivta-ing when we go away from this world; wo want our anticipations aroused to the highest pitch. Wo want to have the exhilaration of a dying child in England, the father telling me the story. When he said lo her, "Is the path narrow?" she answered, "The path is narrow; it is so narrow that I cannot wiilk arm in iirru with Christ, so Jesus goes ahead, and he says, 'Mary, fol- ow.'" Through these church gates sot heavenward how many of your friends and mine have gone? Thu last time they were out of the house they came lo church. The earthly pilgrimage ended at the pillar of public worship, and then they inarched out to a bigger and 'b ighter assemblage. Som7 of them were so old they conld not walk without a cane or two crutches; now they have eternal juvenescence. Or they wore so young they could not walk except as the maternal h;ipd guided them; now they bound with the hilarities celestial. The last time we saw them they were wasted, with malarial or pulmonic disorder; but now they have no fatigue, and no diflicxtrty of respiration in the pure air of heaven. How I wontier when you and I will cross over! Some of yon have had about enough of the thumping and Hail'tigof this life. A draught from the fountains of heaven would do you good. Complete release you could stand very well. Jf you got on the other side, and had permission to come back, yo^i-would not come. Though yiai were invited to come back and join your friends on earth, you. would say, "No, let me tarry here until they come; I shall not risk going back; if a man reaches heaven he had better stay h-re." Oh, I join hands with you this morning in that uplifted splendor. "Whin tlia thoro is won at last, Who will count the billows past? In Kreybourg, Switzerland, there is . the trunk of a tree 400 years old. That tree was planted to commemorate an event. About ten miles from the i-ity the Swiss conquered tho liur- guudians, and a young man wanted to take tho tidings to the city. Ho took a troo branch a nd ran with such speed tho ten miles, that when he reached the city waving- the tree branch he had only the strength to cry, "Vict- ry!" and dropped dead. The tree branch that he carried was planted, and it grew to be a great tree twenty foot in circumference, and the remains of it are there to this day. My he.irer, when you have fought your last battle with sin and death and hell, and they have been routed in the conflict, it will be a joy worthy of celebration. You will fly to the- city and cry "Victory!' 1 and d,rop at the feet of the great king. Then the palm branch of the earthly race will be planted to become the out-branching tree of everlasting rejoicing. When shall these eyes thy heaveu-built walls; And pearly, gates behold, Thy bulwarks with talvation strong, Aud streets of shining gold? . appearances. friends, tha qld FUSILADE OF FUN, Ethel—1 could have loved Harold Vincent but for one thing. Yvonne—-••What was that? Ethel—I was engaged to him. Mrs. Jay—I understand that rich American girl married one of the landed gentry of England, Mr. Jay— He was, when she landed him. Anxious Wife—John has a terrible toothache. What would you advise me to do? Mrs. Longwod—Take the baby and go for a day's visit to yoar mother. "I don't see what reason yoa have for calling Timrains a shylock." "Because he ir, b»ld." "Well?" "If he is bald his locks are shy, aren't they? How stupid you are." "Mary, do you think the work too hard for you here?" Mary—No, ma'am. "Then why are you leaving?" Mary- It's the style of hats you buy, ma'am; I don't look well in none of 'em. Minister—So you don't believe the story about the loaves and fishes, Bobby? Bobby—N-no, sir. Minister —My little boy believes it. Bobby- Yes, your little, boy has been going to.. Sunday school lotiger than I. He's had moi-e practice in those things tbaa I have. Man4y--He»re, Josiah, is a drug Store; now lot us go in an' get them souvenir spoons we've read so much- about. Josiah—Gracious, Maudy, you won't find 'em hero, will yog? Mandy —Josiah, I know what I'm a-doin'. Pidu't >,I see in, a paper tb^t they W a* rk^ A, ,.s •'

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