% fV S . >^v • ^ ^1 ̂"4 ^ x*^r-*,-,r' T- f '-~\tv :*"A%]'*\'-%^'£M^ *-:- '•v.:.--',:5 • X . v • * >i *' t , "*JW ';' " . '* V ?; ( . ; : ' . . t^L •*» ' * * '7 77 * - • ?r *«,«•? - - .-.- .. ^ •.•^«* * :,-M J^efyiry pi*iu3etlep |v $ • - * * t o few: - i I. VIS IcHENJtY. [E, fidltor A Filiiktr. ILLINOIS TEE PEONY. •A Smj, shines that Babbath morn brne. ro breeze utili whispers low; 1 T^gj^^b. rymm A little girl, in hroad-bnmmed li| In the old meeting-honse I eat; lie south wind through the doorway blew, niton*. V-.Hi^y is^ni fc. ,3 of wealth was It sM^^a^wweaSX jls S^e^ovai1rf^?radise. * So wide its silken petals spread,' * '- v- ' . My gjttaeh Dioeeoms, great and sMall, • * Seemed poor. pale, common things to me, By that resplendent peony! • «t-i In what serene content I spent That ofttimes wearv hoar. Us little head in capture bent 1 Afeove that matcflJess fewer! • Tu« prayer and hvran were both Ubetid; > I k*t the sermon, every word; Bui, oh, what charms, unseen befdto, For me, that gray, old deacon wove! The beat of men 1 thought must be The giver of that peony. , flies with swallowa' wings sXf *- ^ 1 count ttie years, and know That Sabbath was not yesterday,; But thirty year* ago; The very meeting-honse m gone, Wega"L ~ J ' ' * The pi Hiajp We gathered, in trmt suniiner morn: reacher s voice is hushed, una aisles o'er the depcon s i , The ' But, lyeafa and fragrant, * till lor T.- Unfading, blooms thai peony-- > $. Mi, i n - 1 «!«;. i Oh, blest, for aye the gilt is blest ... Bestowed upon a chud! Itbaa a worth bejond it« own, ! A eharm to all thing else unknown! How perfect is the joy it gives! How long in memory it lives! Ami childhood's spell yet makes for me A fldwer of flowers, the peony! --Marian Douglas, in Sunday Afternoon. , IWIR ADVENTURES OF AJ( ORGAN- h.J s, ; ^binder. WHILE living in California, I became acquainted with the characters of this sketch. The passages in their lives which are bound together by acts of sympathy and kindheartedness, I lay before my readers; othdr passages not so whote&ome are lost in the great whirlpool of time, which, though it ffwrallows up many good hopes, kindly draws down into oblivion much of wretchedness, profligacy and crime. Jack, vtfhen I knew him, was a sort of agmehtof life himself, having had both of his hinds shot away at the Bat tle of Thibackanville, La., in our late war; and having been taken Up by cir cumstances which we will not now par- &Qula43£t after he left the City Hospital ~ $ Orleans, he had drifted along o*e wave ami another, until he land- in S&n Francisao, CaL, homeless, nniless, hungry and forlorn. He wandered on, up one street and down another, and on, and on, sad and mis erable and despondent, getting never a word nor even a kind look, until he be came utterly hopeless. The pension to which he was justly entitled by reason of his wounds received in the United I States1 service, was not awarded him _n$j? account of some informality in his ^ enlistment as a soldier (he was only a boy then), so that Be was left without • any support whatever. One day, in the midst of his loneli ness, the thought came to him, "Til kill myself." But howP He had neither rdpe, not fire-arms nor knife; if he had, he could pawn them for ' bread; if fie had money he would buy food rather than poison. There was £ the water! The thought flashed through t his tired brain, making him dizzy for 4 the moment; but he turned and walked J wearily toward the wharf, reasoning or weakly that God could not blame him Seatly; he had tried this life and und it a failure; his parents were dead, and he had long since forfeited all claims to friendship and kinship. : Other people h&d homes, and friends to r • caire for them; everybody else had I fbanas, too, and here he had these make- *') believe wooden onps, that some charit- ' hble persons in New Orleans had pur- :»•: • chased lor him. He sat down on alpile . i lumber, and wondered confusedly >v , ; why folks were not ipade like some of ^ '»the lower orders of animal life; so that -*iSrhen lariy of their limbs were torn H < .'away by violence, others grew in their f, viplaces. In the years immediately following the close of the war, he had found no H '•' liwJk of sympathy; now it was an old story; a crippled soldier was no rarity. " How do we know you lost your hands he had been s^ked only the day before, when he had timorously ; i begged for something to eat: "Why Am t you go to some (government iii- Mitution, where you will be cared for?" He knew there were such places where a grateful country cared for her help- lesf sons whp had sacrificed all but life «l^ hl|r fl£ar| there Was oiie'in Maine wlerp he was born,\but*how was he to jth$re? and when there, how would fe-^S.^the influence of some Member of Congress from that State, to try to induce the Government to recognize his claim ? " This world is * played out' for me," he still spliloquized; hfe would try an- and, starting to walk along to a X v^Lfcjfc s#iilcli. seeiiied to be deserted, a sweet .voice singing attracted him. He • -listlessly around. It was-a |it- f 'tie fey with a tambourine, with which •he k<.ut time while he sang: P. J[ f | 'p)d with earthly ills entwineth Hope and comfort from abolte; Everywhere His jnercy shineth, God is wisdom^ Ggd is love." Jack listened and sighed drearily. •"Even this child has a way of earning his bread," he said aloud. "God has given him a voice to sing. He has given me nothing!" fv . "What do you say V* asked the child; did you sp^akto me?" Jack shook his head sadlv. " Give me a bit," said the little fel low, holding out his tambourine. "1 have no bit, child; I have nothing, nothing;^ Jack answered piteousiy. The little boy sang again, "Hope and comfort, hope and comfort from above," with a voice like a bird; and lie trilled ail impromptu refrain ̂" hope, hope, Kope,,r which sounded like a chirp. " Hope for what?' bay which glowed in the still, noonday sun like molten silver. "Could you carry Pedro's organ J" said the ; boy. suddenly taking in the situation at a glance. " Pedro broke his leg, yesterday; the wheels run over it; he can't walk. Pve sure, and sung, all day, and shooken my tam bourine; but folks don't mind me much, and I don't get much moneys. Do you think you can carry the organ on your back? I can turn jt, but it's too" heavv for me to carry." ' " "Yes," replied Jack, jumping up; " I am strong enough, as far jag my bodrgoes, to carry anything." f * 4 4 C o m e , t h e n * " c r i e d h i s l i t t l e f r i e n d , piping the refrain again,, and dancing on ahead. Jack ionoweu mechanical ly, Wondering now if1 he had indeed taken the fatal le&p from the wharf, and this small personage trudg ing on before 'him^ wafcjan imp or an angel leading hiin on to some unknown region, or whether " was still oii the earth. The place to which he was led was odd enough. It was a small room in a di lapidated building, at the end of a mis erable alley leading from one of the back streets of the town. On a repul sive looking pile of rags and straw, lay the victim of yesterday's accident. " See! Pedro; here's some one to car ry the organ; he's a nice man, I know, and he hasn't got any hands of his own; and he feels very bad; but he's strong. 1 can turn, and we'll make lots of moneys." <* ' ' - 44 Buen did, amigo mio.rn said the nr man, looking up into Jack's face, ras Spanish for " Good day, my friend!" " ' * " He is an Americano,'1" explained the boy, " he doesn't know Spanish." But Pedro could speak English pret ty well; and soon the few prelimina ries were Settled; Jack in the mean time somewhat appeasing his hunger by sharing the scanty dinner little Chispa brought from an old table- drawer. Then calling to mind his hos pital experience, Jack directed Chispa now to apply a wet bandage to Pedro's injured ankle, for the limb was not broken after all. Presently he was in the streets seeking for the parish priest, who, an old woman in the adjoining tenement had told hin^ knew something of surgery. After Jack had left the dingy alley and was walking along in quest of the priest, the consciousness that he had something to do made him feel like a new creature. He knew that God had not yet quite forsaken him, and he re solved that he wpuld no longer neglect his prayers he had been taught in the far-away New England home, but would thank Him that very night be fore he slept for saving., him from the horrible sin he had BO lately befell con templating, and for opening to him a way to gaia an honest living. The kind-hearted old priest accompanied him back to Pedro's quarters, and, after examining the inflamed ankle, ad justing the bandage and leaving some soft linen bandages and washes to be applied as he had directed, took his leave. On the morrow, leaving Pedro as com fortable as it was possible to make him, Chispa and Jack went forth on their first day's venture. Afteralittle practice Jack found that playing the organ came within the capability of his poor wrists, and as he ground away, and Chispa sang and danced and shook his tam bourine, it would have been hard to tell which of the two was the happier. They had very good success, and when they came back at night tired and hungry, the three regaled themselves with what was to them a royal sup per. The dirty room to which Chispa and Jack came at night with their dai ly earnings, was Paradise to the lat ter. The dwelling of which it was a part was almost a ruin; degraded and vicious people who were either too be sotted or lazy to work in the town, or in the mines, occupied other parts of it, and other dwellings adjacent oi like character; but it was a home to him. Yet these people, Pedro's neighbors tod acquaintances, treated him with great tenderness. They observed Jack at first with much curiosity, and with som^ distrust; but before mftny days he had won their ccnfidcnce by his kindness to Pedro, and the deftness he showed in housekeeping in such nar row and unhandy quarters; for with his memory of the ways of a New England farmhouse, Jack did his best to trans form the rickety old room into the sem blance of a home, and was not unsuc cessful. Had the early lives of these neighbors of Pedro's been different, had they not been brought up in poverty and un thrifty habits, their condition would have been more favorable. As it "was. they appreciated Jack's efforts, ano each as he could brought something to contribute toward his domestic econ omy. Thus a table, chairs, and at last a comfortable lounge for the invalid found their way into the dwelling. The priest continued his calls; and although Pedro's ankle was nearly healed, a rheumatic fever had slowly crept into his system, so that the poor old man was quite helpless. Jack was thp only one of the three who could read, ana ndW old books and newspapers' were jpioked up; apd at night pulled out of r'aggea pockels, w hen he would read aloud to Chispa and Pedro and a few of the neighbor^ thus helping them rapidly to learu our language. If the literature was not always of the best, it was better than none; and often there would be a bit of story or poetry that would excite a sym- gatnetic thrill in the hearts of these'un-ultivated children of Nature. Jack thought a great deal about Chispa, and when they were out by themselves he sometimes questioned him about his past life. ' s "Where did you learu that?" !he asked one day, as Chispa sang his favor ite-- • * j "God i* wisdom, God iikva" v < 44Oh, I don't know," said the child; 441 have known it always, I guess. I somehow remember a lady holding me in her lap in a room where there where flowers, and a bird in a cage, and beau tiful pictures, and such a big, nice fire, and a splendid great dog painted in the carpet before it; and oh! it is just like a dream, only it is not a dream. I was rpe for what?" asked Jack; ---,l4.tfajere s nothing to do, nothing to live j not asleep, and she used to sing lots of V „tQward stones to, me.'.',. 44 What else do you remember. Chis pa?** ' "Oh, I remember the water and a ship; and a great many folks; sftid a man with an organ who said I was his boy, but I wasn't his boy: and he went away and gave me to Pedro." After a few days Jack resolved to broach the subject to Pedro himself. The poor old Spaniard was very reti cent at, first, but Jack was so kind to him that at last he told in his broken English how it was that Chispa came under his carye and keeping. A man, a brother street musician of Pedro's, a rascally sort of fellow, had died two years before; and, having no relatives, gave Chispa and the organ to him. He said that as he was stroll ing about the country in one of the Eastern States, he heard the little boy sing, and stole him away, leaving some of his clothes on a river bank near which the boy's parents lived, and where he sometimes played, so that they should be made to believe that the boy had been drowned. He brought him to California in a sailing vessel, and had but just begun to reap the harvest of *4bits" that the sweot sing ing <>f this cunning little fellow brought him in, when Bartolome, for that was the stroller's same, was fatally stabbed by an infuriated Chinaman in a street fight. He lived long enough to send for Pedro, to whom he gave his organ and the custody Of the Httle bby, as he h$d said. Pedro had too little knowledge of our language at that time to fnake any in quiries about the child's parentage, had he wished to do so; and I am in clined to think that he did not, for Bartolome's possession in shape of little Chispa, with his. rare beauty and wonderful voice drawing crowas of listeners, had been the envy of the whole brotherhood of organ-grinders. After making Jack promise that no harm should befall him in any event, Pedro took from a small leather bag that was tied around his body a little casket, to which was attached a slender gold chain, and gave it to Jack. On the locket was engraved. " Bertie Terhune, Newark, N. J. ' Jack could write after a fashion with his false hand, and he now iat down and wrote out the facts as intelligently and explicitly as was possible in the form of a letter, and dfsected it, " To the Parents of Bertie Terhune, Newark, N. J." This was before there was a telegraph between California and the Eastern States, or the great Pacific railroad had been* built; so Jack knew he would have to wait a long time for an answer fo come by the next steamer. He and Pedro had agreed that little Chispa should be told nothing of this locket, or the letter that haa been sent, until at least a satisfactory reply had been received. The days passed, while Jack with his organ, and Chispa with his tambourine, continued tramping about the streets playing and singing as usual, until the time when a return steamer was daily expected, which Jack hoped would bring the desired in- •telligenee from the East. The day came at last when the good steamship 44 Panama" having arrived, Jack was to go to the Postonice for a letter. He and Chispa would play and sing on the way thither; so as Jack was fritiding away and Chispa was shaking is tambourine and so wonderfully sing ing and trilling an old Spanish ballad near the entrance of one of the great hotels, they were suddenly confronted by a gentleman and lady who had just aiighted from the hotel coach, which had brought them and other passengers from the newly-arrived steamer. Mr and Mrs Terhune almost instantly recog nized Bertie; and he very soon recalled the voice and face of his mother in the midst of her tearful caresses. The looket was produced and identified, and the equally overjoyed father rapturous ly embraced his long lost little boy. So Chispa's career as a street minstrel was e n d e d . , The theory that Bertie had been ab ducted had never been entertained by the stricken parents, even in the face of the fafct that the body Ifcould not be found. It seemed that the little fellow being passionately fond of the water, would run away when opportunity offered to the river bank; ana it was on one of these occasions, when playing in a -boat belonging to his father, a little skiff tied to the bank, that he attracted the notice of feartolome, the organ- grinder, as he was passing along the street between Mr. Terhune's ground and the river. The finding of the little hat and blue embroidered sack on the grass bank was evidence enough that little Bertie was drowned. The letter that Jack wrote had been immediately forwarded to Mr. Terhune On its arrival at the Newark Postoflice, and the glad parents resolved to go to California in person on the ne?ct steamer, instead of writing, for they knew a letter could not get to San Francisco any sooner than they. The little community of Chispa's friends were greatly grieved over the los§ of their pet; and Jack, although he had been instrumental in restoring him to his father and mother, was almost inconsolable when it came to the part ing. Mr. and Mrs, Terhune both in sisted that Jack should return with them, for Mr. T. had determined that he would provide handsomely for his future, and Bertie lent his tears to their entreaties; but Jack could not be induced to go. But on the day before the departure of the steamer, Mr. T. having repeatedly urged Jack to let him know in what manner he Could re- Vard him, he ventured to divulge a pel scheme of his that had been revolving in his mind during the week the family had been waiting for the steamer to 8tart. Jack told Mr. Terhune that he would thankfully receive a mod erate sum of money with which might be purchased a small ranch near the City of Oakland, across the bay, on which should be built a com fortable dwelling for a home for Pedro and other poor aud feeble people who had befriended Jack in his time of need. This request of the.generous-hearted man was most gladly granted; and in a few hours the land was bought, and money, more than Jack had dreamed of, deposited in bank for buildings and improvements. The work was speedily begun, and energetically and judicious ly carried on. And now, overlooking the beautiful bay of San Francisco, may be seen the residence of Capt. John Mansfield--the 44Capt." having been given him by the title-loving people of the Pacific coast. Hie history is known to but very few of the many people who partake of his hospitality, and who are greatly inter ested in him because he lost both his hands in the War of the Rebellion. They call him a very benevolent, eccentric person, and tell with admiration how his doors are open to the unfortunate of every class and race. His Yankee common sense and shrewdness enable him to detect imposture, and the deserving al ways receive assistance at his hands. Those who are able to work cultivate vegetables, grapes and dther fruits, and flowers, while the sick and cripples are tenderly cared for in the 44 hospital" department. The grounds and ranch, or farm, as. we in New En gland would call it, form as beautiful a place as can be found within fifty miles of the 44 Golden Gate." Pedro still lives, a feeble, lame old maa; and as he is wheeled on sunny days about the grounds of the Mansfield residence by an attendant, he almost fancies himself lord of one of those beautiful vine-growing estates neM* his native Malaga m Spam. Bertie has grown to be a fine, tall boy. He has been once to California since his first trip with Bartolome by water; and _ expects to visit his old friends again with a classmate next vacation. He will never forget Jack, but loves him next to his father and mother; while Jack looks back to that fearful time when he was on the brink of despair, and wishes he could impress upon all despondent souls the truth of Bertie's song: " God with earthly life entwineth ^Hope and comfort from above; Everywhere His mercy shineth; God is wisdom, God is love." --Annie A. Preston, in Sunday After noon. .Terrible Ride or an Aeronaut. M. LAVELLE, the young aeronaut who gave a balloon ascension at Falls Field, a few days ago, was advertised to perform the same feat in Victor yes terday, but it so happened that the peo ple were given an opportunity of wit nessing a sight not down in the bills and one that not manv of them would care to see repeated. M. Lavall** msfkes his ascensions by aid of a hot-air bal loon to which is attached a trapeze, and on this slender bar the intrepid aeronaut hangs by his legs, one arm, or neck, and performs other feats not particularly pleasant for nervous peo ple to gaze upon. At Victor, his balloon was inflated within about a rod of the old brick ho tel, and when the air had become suffi ciently heated, he stepped forward dressed in his tights, ana grasping the trapeze bar in his hand, gave the signal for the man to cut the monster loose. The order was obeyed, but, thanks to someone's blunder, one of the gm ropes held fast, which caused the bal loon to careen terribly before the cord snapped, and then as it shot up ward with resistless force, it swung the unfortunate man toward the brick wall. He saw his danger, but was powerless to avert, it, and in a second he struck agi|o8t< the Wall with a sickening thud. Tne people could see that he was bad* ly hurt, but he retained his grip upon the bar and was drawn up the side of the building, tearing off the wooden cornice and then sailed out into the clear air. The people were horror- stricken, and many turned away their beads in expectation of the awful fall, but happily the man's nerve did not forsake him in the terrible emergency. Slowly and painfully he pulled himself up until he was able t6 throw one leg over the bar, and with his shoulder partly resting against one of the ropes, he waited until the balloon should have spent its foiqe and commence tp de scend. At one time he was seen to sway, as if attacked by a sudden faint- ness, and then it was thought that he must surely fall, but he recovered him* self in a moment and secured a firmer position. The balloon continued to speed up ward, iand tin is sshort time it had reached a high altitude, while the body of the man could barely be distin guished. Men, women , and children* ran through the fields, following the balloon in its course, and, at last, to their inexpressible relief, the air-ship commenced to look larger, and a cheer announced that the air was cooling and that it was coming toward the earth. In about half an hour it came within the reach of a score of outstretched hands and was secured while the in jured man was tenderly cared for. He was taken to a house, and a physician was summoned, who pronounced the hurts of a most serious nature. The left thigh was badly crushed, a bone in the left arm was broken and it was feared that internal injuries had been sustained.' Some idea may be obtained of the force with which he struck the wall when it is known that a new pair of shoes which he wore were split open: by the violence of the blow. At the latest report last night he was in a dangerous condition, but it wes impos sible to ascertain the extent of his in ternal injuries.--Rochester (Ar. ¥.) Dem ocrat. ' _ --Everything is adulterated in these times. Even the mil k of human kind ness is apt to have a certain amount of chalk ih it. Our politics are so watered that you will generally find a man on the side which represents his own per sonal interests; and our religion is so diluted that one begins to feel that all the cream was skimmed off by our faP thers, and that what is left has turned sour. Still, whenever Diogenes finds his honest man and puts his light out the world is glad to make his acquaint ance.--N. 1. Herald. . gjfyfi- Jteligloiup TRUST:' a'H'j W' I aximoTse« to walk in these dark wmy4 > _ My eyas are blind with dnst; i * I cannot read Thy purposes, dear Lord, liut I can hmmbly trust. hlCTMd.odtajrw.. Yet penetrating all, through teas Iaee j Yet penetrating all, through teas 11 The star of Betnlehem. What tnatter, then, though I see not nay Iht; r's flight will guide --When Mr. Greeley once upon a time was lecturing in Indiana, in the palmy days of State banks, the com mittee of one town paid him--inva riably--in notes of the local institution. He looked at them, and then said: 44 Could not you give me? instead of this stuff, a well-executed counterfeit on some Eastern bank?" --The Western man who predicts destruction of crops by grasshoppers is late this year. The goal is Still in sigh' Hewlwdoth watch the sparrow My li teringsteps Aright. Tho treacling oft on thorns, with bleeding feet, In burning deserts lost. Tho«. Lord, hast passed thronerh every ill before, There s comfort at the Cross. " M " -- r ^ v t i T h e a d a s t r e s t o r e a g a i n , And me to walk &st make, ' Within thejMtfc of patient righteoittierie, K en for Thine own name's sak*. Yea! thongo 1 walk through death's dark kMely Tale, Yet shall I fear none ill: For Thou art with me, and Thy MwmtraJ • And staff me oomloztstilL" Oome, then, the storms of earth, if only ThOa Wilt hold my trembling haad; I only wk abiding fail n, dear Lwd, Not Ttiee to understand. Goodness and mercy all my humble life Sbail surely xbtiow me. And in God's house forevermore, my borne ' And dwelling place shall be. t ! , . , -- C i n c i n n a t i J H M 0 * . 1 "ftnnday-School Lessons* SWXWD QUARTER, 1878. ; Juhe 2--The Handwriting OB the Wall Dante* NHL June &--Daniel in the Lion's Den Daniel 6:14-23. June 16--Messiah's Kingdom.. Daniel 7:0-14, Jane 23--The Decree of Ovrns. 2 Chron. 2k Jane 30--Review of the Le«s<>ns for the Quarter. How io Pray Aright. ALL Nations have a word that means prayet: Prayer of some sort forms a part of worship everywhere. But is it of the right kind? Is it prayer? To many it might be said: "Ye ask and receive not, because ye ask amiss." The postures which we use will not make us to be heard, or cause us to fail to be heard. David lay on the ground and prayed all night for his child, but it died. Hezekiah lay in his bed with his face toward the wall, and prayed, and God added fifteen years to his life. The Pharisees stood at the corners of the street and prayed, and were not heard. The publican " stood afar off" from the rest, in the temple, and prayed, and was heard. We ought to assume a posture of reverence. Kneeling is a very proper posture. But the posture may be right and the prayer worthless. So we may use the words of Soript- ure, or we may use our own words, and we shall be heard, or not heard, accord ing as our hearts are right or wrong. Our words may be very poor, and yet God may hear us. Our words may be very fine, and yet we may get no bless- ing. Neither is God confined to any time or place. We ought to be as much alone as we can, when we offer our se cret prayers. But it is right to unite with others in social and public prayers in our houses and in the house of God, on the Lord's day and ott all days Whether God will hear a prayer does not depend on its being long or short. Repetitions are not forbidden, but "Vain repetitions" are. The publi can's prayer was short and was heard The Pharisee's was long, and good for nothing. Still prayers may be too long. " Let thy words be few." But we ask amiss, when we do not really wish for the things we ask for. This is mocking God. Yet I fear many do it. Augustine says, that at one time he prayed to be preserved from a par ticular sin, "but not yet." See to it that you truly desire what you ask for. We also ask amiss, when we do not look and long for an answer to our prayers. When wo send a letter to a friend, we look for an anower, until one comes. So if we are in good earnest when we pray, we will at Fast cry out: " O Lord, liow long?" If we would get What we ask, we must be careful to do to others as we ask God to do to us. If you would ob- tpin mercy from God, be careful to show mercy to all around you. If you asfy Go;d to make you happy, try to make every one around jrou happy. If you wish God it> pardon you, yon must not hate those who have done you harm. " If ye forgive Tiafc mca their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father for give you youf trespasses. We ask antiss, when we are not will ing to do what God- requires. A man may pray for a good harvest, yet if he sows no seed, the rich harvest will not come. We may ask to be made holy, but if we will not do what God tells us and try to avoid sin, we will not be made holy. We must in our hearts hate all sin, if we would have our prayers heard- - " II1 regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not near me." We ask amiss, when we think hard of God for not giving us at once all we ask for. We must be patient, and wait His time. 4f I waited patiently for the Lord, and He Inclined unto me and heard my cry." We ask amiss, when we do not ask in faith. " He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him." Without faith it is impossible to please Him. We must see to it that we have faith in God, and that we be lief in Jesus. We must ask. all in the name of Christ. He is worthy. He says, " If ye ask anything in My name, I will do it' >And our hearts must be in our pravers. If we ask aright, we shall get what we ask. For Christ has said, "Ask, fend it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."--English Magazine, The Law of Love* THE Christian law is the law of love. Whoever puts the rules of art above the law of love is a Pagan. He who habitually seeks to gratify his own tastes, rather than to do good to all men as he has opportunity, is not a Christian but a Pagan. The church that, in all its appointments and pro visions for worship, and in the develop ment of its social lifev practically seeks aesthetic gratification more than the helpful service dt the poor and the ig norant who dwell within the site of its spirfe or the sound of its bell, is not a true church of Christ. No matter how orthodox may be the doctrines taught fqom its pulpit; no matter how liberal may be the gifts of itaawMMBP ft* ttit* iions in Africa; no mfriteiFMMp1' •jpurr- ous may be the converts that flock to ite altar; if the practical relation of the church to the people in its aeifkbor- hood who most need the GospeOs ooe oi isolation rather than of ifMkthy: if the prevalent sentiment of t&eeiuircfc leads its members to ignore their poor neighbors, and to associate oah with persons of culture--pleasing then selves in their social life instead of bearinr the infirmities of the weak--then the religion of this church is Paganism, and it has no right to th* Christian name. We do not say that most off the churches of Christ in this couatsry are essentially Pagan. The contrary is true. Most of them, we believe, re member who Christ was, and what the law of His kingdom is. But a great many of them are wholly given over to this false religion; and.there are strong elements in many others that tend the same way. And the dangers that threaten our churches fmm thî «Qar- ter are much more serious than those which grow out of new interpretations of doctrine. For a man who seta aside and contemns the fundamental law of Christ's religion; for a church that pro fesses to own Him and yet ignores, practically, the very people with wftom He has so solemnly identified hinAself in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew,. some solicitude may well be felt. There has been a good deal of discussion* of late, about what kind of punishment It is that those are threatened with, who, in the parable just referred to, are found on the left hand. Would it not be worth while to give a little attention to the question wnat kind of people * those are against whom this punish ment is threatened?--Sunday Afiermon for June. "•****'•• • Melody In Ike Heart.-iMii - THERE is no music-box so freighted with melodious harmonies as is the heart of the Christian full of the prom ises and of the spirit of the Gospel. The Man of Sorrows has filled the wovld with songs of gladness and triumph. His love nas harmonized once discord ant passions, and caused jarring con flicts within the soul to yield to all the sweet enchantments of faith, hope and charity. It is not allowed a believer to be always on the mount of ecstacy, nor all the while in the shadowed valley. The disciple cannot be exempt from tribulation or distresses. He must have his Gethsemane and his-Calvary. For him there is some bitter cup, pierc ing spear. Yet, notwithstanding,, he shall joy even in tribulation. His soul shall have its templed glory, its celes tial peace and its anthems of rapture. His exalted and exalting faith will en able him to catoh the notes of the celes tial choir, and to hear the strains of the harpers before the throne. Nothing can put so much music into a man as the consciousness of being at one with Christ. Selfishness, of whatever sort, begets moroseness, and fault-finding, ana distrust. But whoso is reoonoiled in his heart, mind and will, to the authority of the All-Loving, will be able to testify: "My life Hows on in endless song, above earth's lamentation, I catoh the sweet, though ftr-ott hymn, that haiia a new creation: Above the tumult and the strife I hgartbe musio ringing, 1 --Church Union * A Horrible Position and a Narrfir . Emape. ' , THERE came very near being a fatal accident at the West Side Water- Works, at the corner of Ashland ave nue and Twenty-Second street, yester day afternoon, the happy escape from which Charles Reynolds*, a diver, par ticularly rejoices over, and his friends are indirectly satisfied^ Three-or four nights ago, tne managers of the works desired to put a new suction pipe into the well-, and,to accomplish this object the well had to be pumped dry; but the gate, for some reason, could not be shut down. The services of a diver were procured todesecud into- tlie shaft" and remove the obstruction, and at four o'clock yesterday afternoon Mr. Reynolds equipped himself in hie sub marine togs and went down into the shaft. Both engines were working at the time, and in getting too near the inlet or channel the diver found him self unable to resists the current of water caused by tho suction of the pumps, and* he was drawn into the channel. With great presence of mind, however, he pressed his hands against the abutments and braced himself against the rush of waters with might and main. His situation was most precarious, as at best he could hold out but a few moments, and he had no means of signaling his distress to those above. The latter, not hearing or seeing anything of the diver, fancied that some accident had befallen hip, and,, as the small amount of air with which he was supplied could last but a short time., caused the engines to be stopped, when the back water floated him out into a sa£& place in an almost exhausted condition. Still, the coura^ geous fellow, nothing daunted, fished about and brought up with him several pieces of cement, which it was pre sumed obstructed the working of the gate. Had the pumps continued to work for two or three minutes longer, Mr. Reynolds must have relaxed his hold, and in that event he would have been drawn from the shaft through the tun nel and into the well under tne pumps. It is hardly to be supposed that he would then have made a passage through the immense valves bodily, but he would have been dashed against the pumps with terrible force, and it would have been but a question of time when he would have been distributed through the pipes and feeders to cus tomers all over the West Division.-- Chicago Tribune. A BEAUTIFUL WHITEWASH.--To five gallons of wlii lew ash made of w«il- burned white lime add a quarter of a pound of whiting, half a pound of loaf sugar, one quart and a half of rice floor, made into a thin and well-cooked paste, and half a pound of white glue dissolved in water. Apply warm. Prevknwfjr scrape off all old scaly whitewash^ This is like oalsomine, and gives a brilliant and lasting eJfcct. : AT • Xi r'W# •Hi