•- • THEOBY." "SvMMES ' J -- - ™ MM ou the Open Polar Kea- lli)« oii'.rsBt* ill* Father** with the . Ki'tvtouian Theory. the Bditor of the LoniniUe Courier-Journal: As I am making an effort to have the ^'Syrames' Theory1' thoroughly tested by the Howgate Exploring Expedition, and so few persons understand what that theory is, I will undertake to state what it is, and show the difference be tween it and the Newtonian theory. According to the Newtonian, it is one vast solitude of eternal ice, clear up to the 90th dec. of north latitude. Ac cording to the Symmes theory (that is, my father's, Capt. John Oleve Symmes), the explorer wilt find that, after he passes the 80th deg., the weather grows milder; when he reaches the 81st deg. lie will find some open water; when the 82d deg, is reached he Will find much open water and great quantities of wild animals, and some waterfowls; when the 83d degree is reached, he will find the open Polar Sea, that is 2,000 miles in diameter, and, if he will go out into that sea when the weather & warm and genial, he will find the country that the Symmes theory says can be found, of lar#eforests of timber, large rivers and rich land, and the home of more wild animals than can be found anywhere else in creation, and water fowls in abundance. Now, sir, I propose to give the ex perience of many explorers in the North, and if they don't prove that there is more truth in the Symmes theory than in the Newtonian, then the world may say, as they said of my fa ther during his life, that his theory is - 44 reared upon the baseless fabric of a vision." I will briefly state the experience of <Capt. Parry, who made five voyages tip there, and after the experience he had I do not think any man can doubt for a moment which theory has the most truth in it. Parry knew nothing of the Symmes theory, nor did any of the explorers I will mention. You will bear in mind that all the •explorers start to go to the North Pole, arid expect to get there on ice. When Capt. Parry made his third voyage he was provided with reindeer and sleds, «o that he could travel speedily over the ice to the Pole. He could not get his deer beyond the 81st deg. for the much open water he encoun tered; but he went on, making his men propel his sleds (which were small boats on sled-runners), and when he <came to open water he used the little boats to ferry from one cake of ice to the next, and the further north he got the more water he found, and the mild er grew the weather. When he got up to the 82d deg. he found the ice only four feet thick, and his only safe ty in a storm was in pulling his Itoats or sleds upon a cake of ice and thus outride the storm, and he began to feel some alarm, but he went on, and when he got up to 821 he found the ice only three feet thick, but he encouraged his men to go on north, as he thought the ice would •certainly get stronger; but when he got up to 82| deg. he could not find a cake of ice that would bear his own weight, and the sun so hot as to melt tiie tar out of the seams of his boats, and small Hies came on board, and all open water north of him, so he had to turn back, and came safely home. /How does that agtee with the Symjnes theory? Capt. Ross, who made two voyages up there, sa^rs: "I stood on the bank >f the opeji sea when it was calm and ear of ice^ and experienced warm winds coming directly from the north, that melted the snow and ice about me jmd far south of me." How is that ifor the Symmes theory? Dr. Kane's men found open water And when up to the 82d deg., " climebd a mountain 500 feet high, 4Uid gazed out on a great waste of wa ters, and not a speck of ice to be seen, and a wind coming directly from tne north, that blew a gale part of the time for three days, and came so warm as to melt snow and ice far south of them. 14 They found water-fowls in abund ance, and their nests so plenty on the mountain-side that they could have gathered a wagon-load of eggs." They <aw extensive grassy plains, and gath ered many kinds of flowers. Capt. Hill went into winter quarters . With his vessel at 80 deg. 38 min., and from thence took a sled-ride directly .north, and did not go but fifty miles before he came to an open seaand en camped on the bank of it and spent two 4ays, and while there wrote his last dis patch to the Secretary of the Navy, in yhich he savs: 441 find this a much warmer country than I expected, and it Sbounds with life--seal, game, geese, neks, musk cattle, wolves, foxes, deer, ar, rabbits, partridges, teeming with «nipe and plover, and all kinds of wad ing birds." Does not all this go to prove that there is more truth in the 4&ymmes theory than the Newtonian? Tet who knows anything about the Symmes theory, that has been lying dormant as it were since the death of its author in 1829? He petitioned Con gress in 1822 and 1823 to fit out an ex ploring expedition for him, and in his petition said: "I Will go as far north as 1 can get with the vessel and then go on shore and go north by land, and will follow in the wake of the wild ani mals that go north in the fall from Greenland and return back there in the spring fat and leading their young, and where they go'I can follow ana they will show me the way to the new world that I say can be found, that I intend to call Symmzonia." Congress thought his theory "wild and visionary," laid laid his petition on the table; but now they will lit out Capt. Ho.vgate at An expen.se of $j(), »OOU to do the very .same thing that Capt Symmes ^proposed fifty years ago. Howgate is to land his men as near the 81st deg. as he can, and then go by land in search ot the North Pole; Tiijt instead of reaching the Pole he will find his way into Symmes* Hole, or all the experience of explorers will amount to nothing. There are 1,131.000 square miles of this world lying in the North yet undiscovered, and 1 want to accom- Hole," where the climate is warm and genial, and where the big trees and the vegetables and flowers grow that come floating down from the North and lodge on the northern boast of Spitsbergen and Norway. Atl explorers in the ex treme North will tell you that such is the fact- Where do they come from? Certainly there is no country laid down in the Newtonian theory from they could oome. Yours with About Turkish Wives* pany the Howgate Expedition so that : w there will be no turning back when it f-iiis found that the Newtonian theory will not carry the exploring party on ice to r l&wrth Pole, but into "Symmes' mmm "fralt among Turkish social tbplcs Is that of the harem. The Koran allows a Mussulman to have four wives; and many persons have consequently imag ined that polygamy is the rule in Tur key, whereas it is the exception. A Mussulman may only have as many wives as he can keep in comfort; ana it is only the very rich who can afford to keep four. The middle class Turks hate only one wife apiece; the men of the lowest class are often obliged to remain single from not having the means to support a consort in the style which the Moslem law enjoins. Noth ing can be more un-Turkish than the Mormon idea of accumulating a num ber of women to live under one roofi quarrelling in the kitchen and parlor, and acting as household drudges for their husband. The Tuikish wife is not a slave; the chief fault to find with her is that she has too lofty a sense of her own dignity. An advocate of female rights would have some difficulty in persuading her that her lot was pitiable; she has never envied the emancipation of Christian women, whose free ways shock her; while she has noticed that they get much less respect from the men of their faith than that which is invariably vouchsafed to herself. She veils her face with no more regret than a Western lady unveils her shoulders. Turkish women are not shut up. They go out when they please, attended by their odaliks, if rich, or holding their children by the hand; and their magpie voices fill the bazaars, for they are noisy talkers. Wherever they pass, men of all creeds stand aside defer entially. If a husband meets his wife in the street he makes no sign of recog nition. A Turkish house is divided into two parts--the selamlik for the men, the haremlik for the women; and the latter has as many separate suites of apart ments as there are ladies. A Turk who has but One wife m^y require a large haremlik if his mother and sisters live with him, for each of these ladies must have her private set of rooms and servants for her separate use. There must be no crowding and no mixing of domestics in a well-or dered establishment; so that if there be four wives they need never see one another unless they please. The first wife is called the hanun, and takes grecedence over the others all her life, he has a right to the best rooms and to a fixed share of her husband's in come, which he must not reduce to minister to the caprice of the younger spouses. As these points have gener ally been settled through the ulemas or priests before the wedding, a hanun1 s jointure is as safe as that of a French woman who has had a contract drawn up by a notary. During the last twen ty years monogamy has become more and more the rule among Turks of the highest class, and even among those who have two or three wives, the hanun has gradually come to be regarded as having the same rank as the mistress of a Christian house. She visits and entertains the hanuns of oth er gentlemen, but keeps aloof from wives of the second and other degrees. These are not equals in her sight, be ing generally ladies of a lower social status, who have not brought any dow ry to their husband. Time was" when a pasha would take four wives of an equal degree, all being daughters of other pasnas or of the Sultan and all richly portioned, but manners have al tered in this respect--at all events, in the European part of Turkey. It must not be supposed, However, that ha nun cherishes any such jealous hatred of her fellow-wives as is felt by a Christian wife who sees her husoand flirt with strange women. She is con tent with the largest share of her hus band's respect, without demanding his exclusive devotion: The Turk who has money marries young, and an excuse for polygamy might be found in the fact that his first marriage is always an affaire de cori- venance. His father bespeaks a bride for him among the daughters of his best friend, ana he does not see the young lady until she lifts her veil in the bridal chamber after the wedding. The preliminaries are conducted by the mothers on both sides; and doubtless a son will now and then plead hard to be allowed just one peep at his intended, but a prudent matron will turn a deaf ear to such entreaties. The damsel is more fortunate, for she can see her bridegroom elect through the grated windows of her residence, or, closer still, under cover of her veil in the ba zaars. It might be supposed that, as feminine nature is the same in all lati tudes, a girl who knew herself to be pretty, might devise innocent strata gems for letting her betrothed get a sight of her--for instance, wear a very thin veil, or contrive that, at the hour when the young effendi called on her father, one or two of the wooden bars of her mojucharabies (window grating) should be displaced. But this would be quite contrary to Mussulman notions of delicacy, which are not to be trilled with. Turkish girls are unaffectedly modest. Those of the lower class who are engaged as servants in the houses of Frank residents are much preferred to Greeks or Armenians for their ex cellent behavior, cleanliness and regard for truth. Looking upon marriage as their natural destiny, they are careful of their reputations, and when married make first-rate housewives. No doubt the tourist who compared the Turkey of to-day with that of five-and-twenty years ago would find some departure from the strict womanly reserve which used to be the universal rale. But do not imagine, O contemner of Moslem benightedness, that the lady who veils herself so closely, who drives through the streets in a chariot drawn by white oxen with gilded horns, and who, from the pile of amber satin cushions on which she reclines, seems to gaze with a languid wonder at the queer coats and hate of the Franks---do not imagine that this lady is an igno rant person who spends her days on a divan eating " lumps of delight" and gazing at ner golden anklets. The English and French governess has long ago forced her way into the harem, and the Turkish lady of rank speaks French Imd sometimes dresses a la Francaist. The pianos and cookery books of the West are known to her; she can play a waltz and instruct her cook how to prepare better dishes than pillau.--Pall Mall Gazette. and tying him up. Placing his hand on the animal's horn, Mr. Lardin was about to reach down to seize the ring, when the bull suddenly threw up his head, striking Mr. Lardin just over the left eye with the horn and knocking him down. Turning with all the quickness of a rat-terrier, the infuriated brute sprang; upon the prostrate man and attempted to gore and crush him to death. " It Talk With s liody-Hnateheif* ' * AN Enquirer reporter talked yester day with Charles Keeton, who frankly acknowledges his profession of body- snatching, and justifies himself bv say ing that nis labors are bestowed in the interests of science. „ 44 How long have you been in this business?" asked the reporter. 44 About eleven years, sir," said Kee ton, as he sat up in bed--for he is now confined to his room from hemorrhage of the lungs. " I began with Mr. Cun ningham, 'Old Gunny,' they called him. eleven years ago, and have fol lowed the business every winter since that." "Does it pay pretty well?" " Not now. It used to pay, for we got a good price for subjects, but there isn't much money in it now." " Why don't they pay so much now?" 44 Well, sir, the fact is--I don't want to say nothing against anybody, but it 'pears to me that somebody ain't exact ly doing the fa'r thing by the pr'fession of subject-gathering. I don't 'cuse none of the doctors themselves of go ing out to get stiffs, but there's some thing wrong somewhere. The old demonstrators of anatomy at the col leges wouldn't have stooped to such a thing either, but I think things are changed now. I w'ent to the demon strator of one college--I ain't going to call any names--in March, and asked him how many subjects they were go ing to want for the spring session, and he told me he thought they wouldn't want any more, that they had enough on hand. Well, you see, I knew better than that, and my private 'pinion is that that 'ere demonstrator gets his subjects in some queer sort of way, I don't say that he goes out for 'em him self, but if he doesn't he must have some no 'count men that would as soon rob the grave of a party well connected, and with lots of friends, as any other way. Now, no body-snatcher as has any respect for hisself or his calling '11 do a thing of that sort. There's plenty of material lying round and rotting, just nowv sir, ana no friends to claim it." 44 How long have you been at the business?" "It's about 'levenyears since I first begun it. I begun with Old Cunny. First he paid me three dollars a head; that was while I was learning. Then he gave me eight dollars apiece, and finally I decided to quit him and go by myself, arid so he said he'd give me half, and then we worked together oh shares till he died." 4 4 Do you make it a regular business, then?" 4 41 get my living by it in the winter time." " What do yoii get for subjects?*? 44 We used to get abodft twenty-five dollars apiece for them, but lately the price somehow has got down to fifteen dollars. The professors buy some sub jects for themselves, and they most al- wavs get them for about fifteen dol lars." 44 How do you usually get the bod" ies?" 44 Well, we generally go out two to gether and go to a burying-ground. We go to the 4poor lots,' the Potter's Field, and when we can find any fresh graves we get the bodies." i 44 You don't get them from the parts where the better class of people are buried?" " No. Lots of times Cunny and I have been out together and we'd find a fresh grave on a large lot, and Cunny would always say,4 Oome 'long, honey, we won't take that.' When we'd come through to a part where the graves were close together, and we knew it was the poor lot-where the people with out any friends are buried, then we'd dig down to the coffin, break it open and put a rope around the neck and pull the body out. I don't do that way now, though, for it is just as easy to throw all the dirt out. Then, after throwing it out, I generally get down and open the coffin and take the body by the waist and lift, it out to my part ner. He takes it and gen' ly runs a knife down the back and rips the clothes off, and lets 'em drop down. Then we slips the head into a sack, press the knees up against the chest, and slip the body m and tie the sack That's all there is of it." " How do you enjoy the work?" "Well, it wasn't*very pleasant at first, of course, but anyone gets used to it. It is for the good of science, and I think it is just as right and honorable as for the man what does the dissec tion. I want to say one thing, though and that is that the colored people have 'cused me of robbing the graves in* their graveyards. I never have done so. 1 have took up a good many bod ies of colored people wot was buried in the 4 poor lot,' but never any other." 44 How many do you suppose you have furnished in your experience as a bodv-snatcher?" "Maybe 500. I got about forty last winter, but it wasn't a very good win ter for it, though."--Cincinnati En quirer. ' Terrible Fight with a Bull* LATE last fall Mr. Lardin, a man of wealth and an admirer of blooded stock, imported from England a splendid two- year old short-horned Durham bull at a cost of $2,650; also two Durham heifers at a cost of $550 each. " El Toro" was considered' not only by its owner, but by all who saw him, as one of the most perfect specimens of his species ever brought to this country. He was tractable and soon became almost a pet with his master, who kept the 2300- pound monster housed but not tied. Three weeks ago, Mr. Lardin, who weighs over 200 pounds, went into the stable for the purpose of putting a rope through an iron ring in the full's cose And Jong the troubled yea##.. Out of our weariness we era Mid burdens and diHtreMjv •For everlasting peace we sitfn And the Divine caress. Oh, better than we ask or think r To us is Thy sweet wi'l; :vttr Life trom thy living Word we dri&X, And every fear is still. » 1.4 V* We yet can bear the cross, whose lull'1 •: r Is lightened by Thy hand, . And follow nn, although the road " 7 - Is through a weary land. It is enough that Christ has trod • '<• Each step and goe« before; i • ' Enough that, safe at last with God, : We shall go out no more. --B. N. Powers, D.D., in If. Y. Obttrver. w leath. Luck- ,Thou knowest all our toil and pam,4 the stable, so uhat the animal was una- ... ... i ble to carry out his purpose by reason of his horns striking the side of the building. The animal then attempted to crush his victim by kneeling upon him, but again the side of the stable prevented. This failure seemed to madden him. still further, and he threw his wfaol*. tremendous weight against the side of the building in a desperate attempt to once more use his horns. Fortunately the boards stood the test, but one of hi»f horns struck Mr. Lardin on the left shoulder and passed over his chest un til reaching the breastbone, where but for the shelter afforded by the wall a death-wound must have been inflicted. Lying as still as he could, while thef, bull was banting with all his might, Mr. Lardin kept feeling cautiously3for the ring in the animafs nose, when a sudden movement brought it within reach, and it was instantly seized by the desperate man. With a quick wrench and a death-grip the bull found himself instantly shorn of strength. With both wrists almost broken, both thumbs nearly dislocated, his body crushed and bleeding and nearly stripped of clothing, Mr. Lardin stag gered to his feet and led the bull out of the stable, across a lot to an eight-rail fence. Here he pulled the brute's nos# up after him as he climbed until he was ready to drop on the other side, when he let go and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.--Oil City (Pa.) Der rick. Religious. nmt tothepeo- Jnne 23 June 30- jlundnj-Schoo! Lessons# •f SECOND QUARTER. 1818. •-The Decree of Cyrus.. 2 Chron. 36:22 23, -Review of the Lessons for the Quarter. THIRD QUARTER. . July 7--Birth of Christ the Lord.. Luke 2: 8r20. July 14--1The Childhood of Jesus..Luke 2:40-52. July 21--Ministry of John the Bap tist - -- .....Luke 315-23. July 23--Jesus at Nazareth Luke 4 JM0. Aug. 4--The Draught of Fishes..-Luke 5:1-11. Aug. 11--The Centurion's Faith.. .Luke. 7: 1-10. Aug. 18---The Widow of Main-.... .Luke ? :11-17. Ang. 26--The Friend of Sinners....Luke 7:40-50. Sept. 1--Retnrnof the Seventy.. .Lake 10:17-24. Sept. 8--The Good Samaritan. -.. .Luke 10:86-87. 8ept.l5--Importunity in Prayer-. .Luke 11: 6-13. Sept. 22--Covetousness Luke 12; 13 -23. Sept., ^9--Beview of the Lessons for the. Qpwter. Does Death End All! The Old Man and the Boys. AFTER two boys had been brought out and placed in stragetical positions before the desk. His Honor lifted his voice and inquired: Is Mr. Grott in court?" : I pelief I am dot man," remarked a citizen with gray hair and a careworn expression, as he came forward. Well, now, do you know these boys?" " I haf seen doze poys one hoonered times, Mr. Shudge." " Well, what have they been doing?" " Efer since spring comes dis pig poy here has peen throwing stones mit mv front door. Somedinies he hits der door, somedimes der windows, und somedimes me. 1 calls for der bolice, but he makes up faces--shust so! I runs after him mit a glub, und he calls me badt name und whistles like I vhas some dog.. I dinks dat poy shall end his days jpiit der gallose." " And about this other boy?" •'Vhell, he comes aroundt, too. He makes some faces at me oafer der fence, und Then I runs behindt him he sings mit his mouf: " ' 1 wouldn't pe a Dutchman, For foofty cents a day!' It makes me awful madt, Mr. Shudge, und if I git my hands on him he shall be noddings poody queek! I have tried like dunder to make dose badt poys go home und let me alone, und now 1 vhants some law to shtop all dis pefore I am kilt mit a pig stone." *' Boys," began His Honor, " do you realize the seriousness of this case?" They did. " Do you fully realize that a sharp lawyer could make a conspiracy case of this--a plain case of conspiracy against property, garden-truck ana human lifeP" They probably did, as tears came to their eyes and they wiped their noses with great earnestness. What shall be done with them?" asked the Court otthe complainant. " Oh! dear!" sighed one. "Oh! bones!" wailed the other. Mr. Grott looked from one to the other. Their tearful eyes, red noses and repentant looks touched his heart, and he replied: Vhell, if dey shall be sorry, den I shall be sorry, too!" " It is a grave offense," suggested His Honor. Both snuffled in a manner indicating that they wouldn't do so again for two shillings. " Dot i?h so," mused Mr. Grott, "but I dinks I shall forgif dem." "Boys!" sharply remarked His Hon or, "you deserve to be sent up for a month, but the man whom you have abused asks for mercy for you. You can go, but if either of you come here again I'll make you think you' ve stuck a hundred slivers into those flat, bare feet! Do you hear meP" < " Guess we do!" they whispered, in union. "Und do you heara me?" added Mr. Grott. -T* , • . /TTT _ They did. ;/ ' " And." remarked Bijah as he con ducted them to the door, " I have just invented a spanking-machine which am longing to try. A hint to the wi§e is suffish--go home-"--Detroit Free Press. , --Gen. Grant's visit to England has given rise to a lawsuit. The Council of Sunderland entertained .him and charged the ratepayers with the .ex penses of a special train, the ringing of bells and music. The bill was then charged to the borough fund, but the ratepayers objected to this on the ground that the money collected was irected by the statute to be applied to certain purposes, of which tne recep tion of Gen. Grant was not one. The Court before which the case was brought sustained this view of the case, and so the gentlemen who got up the reception must pay the expenses, some $500, out of their own pockets --An exchange says: "By eating Paris green mixed with flour, which had been dumped by the side of a fence, Thomas McConnel recently lost twenty-five val uable sheep." Tt is astonishing that Thomas didn't die. What aileel the sheep? - --At Nelson Furnace, Ky., recently, a girl eleven years old was attacked by a game cock, which struck one of its spurs through the side of her head and' into the brain, inflicting a fatal wonnd. REV. JOSEPH COOK, of Boston, re cently lectured in Chicago on the above subject, and the Tribune gives the fol lowing synopsis of the lecture: Starting out in his brisk way, he asked if there was no Abraham Lin coln, no Henry Clay, noEwing,noCor- win, no others of great names. Their bodies had been buried beneath the sod, but had they no souls? Socrates told hi3 followers not to sorrow for his death, since it was only his body that was to be buried. A Communist's grave in Berlin the other day bore over its portals the inscription, " No hereafter; no meeting; no immortality!" Such was the materialistic view shared by a certain school in England of whom Frederick Harrison was one. Immor tality, while not positively denied by that school, was never affirmed. Hux ley and Tyndall would call the doctrine of immortality a pleasant dream, a mere hope. But the free-thinkers them selves disagreed on this subject of im mortality, some denying it altogether, and others asserting, as did Socrates of- old, that the relation of the soul to the body was that of the harper to the harp. According to the materialists, the brain would be crushed under the hoofs of "the horse called Death, and the soul would cease to exist because it could no longer be secreted. If the materialists were right, Dante, in his expectation of meeting Beatrice in the hereafter, and Burns, writing to "Mary in Heaven," were wrong, and the human instinct appeared to mislead us. Shakespeare had written of "the undiscovered coun try from whose bourne no traveler re turns," and thus explained what " puz zles the will and thus makes cowards of us all." Without considering the physiologi cal view of the question just at present, he argued from the principle of cor relation, that there was an after-death existence. Where there was a migrat ing instinct there was a south to match if . Did God keep his word with birds and fishes, and not with men? There Was a country behind the veil, or there was not. If not, there was simply an after-state of nothing but vacuity in it. On the doctrine of correlation Emerson rested in his last essay; and Bryant agreed with him. Neither of these men was a theologian. Canon Farrar believed in an opportunity after death for repentanoe, but did he propose to rest his chances of: future bliss on that opportunity? But Mr. Cook did not propose to neg lect the physiological view of the ques tion. He accordingly stepped to one side of the lecture-desk, and, pointing to a highly-colored series of figures, in ducted his audience into the mysteries of protoplasms, bioplasms, etc. It was noticeable, he said, that life-matter had power to divide itself. Where did it come from. The power of animal and vegetable reproduction, he believed, came from this power of life to divide itself and take up nutriment. The child was related to the parent as the wilknv spray to the drooping tree. Matter was of three kinds--nutrient or germinatory, organic and formed. In the formation of tendons was there nothing but mechanism--a haphazard, fortuitous putting together? What wove us? The composition and action of the tendon and the muscle precluded the possibility that it was mere mech anism. By all the known methods of dissection, there was no difference between the two; but from their workings it was seen that here were two difl'erent shuttles. Was it life or mechanism that wove usP Was it life or mechanism that carried the nerve spirally, and with perfect precision, around the muscle P Here were certain facts, and thus were we woven. Was it life or mechanism; ^wnich? As to the facts, there was now no dispute. The weaving and unweav ing of warp and woof in the venous system--total co-ordination,as he might term it--was the thing before which materialism broke down. It had an answer to other things, but on this it was silent. It was important to dis tinguish between mind and matter-- the one possessing extension and the other consciousness. Modern material ists no longer said that the same thing could have opposite qualities--exten sion, inertia, color and the absence of them--at one and the same time. They nbw asserted that there were two states, die physical and the spiritual. These opposite qualities, they how said, fol lowed each other rapidly in. and out. Prof, Bain, of Scotland, upheld this, and explained, on this principle, that you could open and shut the door at the same time, if you only did it fast [Laughter.] The chasm be- less and living forms of mat ter was one that chemistry could not«x- plain. and it was into that chasm that materialism dropped, as it were, into its grave. Strauss, the infidel, in 1872 admitted that if this chafem could Sot be bridged by mechanical means, a^ miracle would at once have occurred in the world at the beginning of life. Huxley thought he had discovered the bridge in a substance at the bottom of the sea, but it now turned out to be nothing more than sulphate of lime, [Laugnter and applause.] Huxley had given up his theory of the sea-ooze, and so had the other prominent ma terialists. To bring materialization to its greatest difficulty, let one ask it how to bridge that chasm. Until it cotold bridge thai, chasm by merely chemical and physical forees, the theory <*Le«o- lution cQuld not be proved. But materialism now admitted that matter could not move itself. How, then, could it account for the weaving of these tissues, or say it was mechan ism and not life? Something moved, something did build, against the phys ical chemical law, as a boat against the tide, propelled by the oars in the hands of a living organization. There was, therefore, individuality in the plan be hind the oak, the lion, the palm, the eagle, the man--a something, a fore- cast, life. Here Mr. Cook gave Her bert Spencer's lucid definition of life, adding that it had been admired, and that, doubtless, the audience understood it. With that definition he contrasted the one given by Aristotle--that life is the cause of form in organism. His own definition, in view of what had b^en discovered in 2,000 years, was an expansion, it might be said, of* Aris totle's. Life, as he defined it, was the force which directs the movement* t of germinal matter. Something caused tne form of the parts of an embryo. The cause must go before the forma tion, and life must go before the organ ization, and was independent of it, j,ust as the cause preceded the effect. In short, life was the cause of organiza tion. If death was defined as disorgan ization, the question was, " Does disor ganization end all?" and how could one know that disorganization ended all, when it Was known that organiza tion did not begin all. Why not dare to say, then, that disorganization did not end all? There were two kinds of mechanism --the automatic, or lower, and the In fluential, or higher. Behind the key board we must imagine a higher catise, initiating the movements of the keys, 'and that cause was not matter. Ivory was not music. What lay behind? Tyndall had said he didn't care, and had thus shown his unwillingness to investigate truth. Christianity, on the other hand, asked for full investiga tion. Every change must have an ad equate cause. The kev-board must have a musician behind it, for paatter could not move itself. Draper, . the great physiologist, had said hie kn^w, simply from physiology, that there was an external agent, and that, as the de struction of the optical nerves did . not destroy the light, so the destruction of the brain did not prove tfie destruction of the exterior agent acting upon it which we called the soul. The argu ment for the immortality of man was not weakened by all that might be said about the immortality of instinct. Dis solve man and you would come upon the. iinest part, which could neither be touched nor seen. He did not know but that it was fine enough to go into Heaven. There was a something in man which did not change--his sense of personality, of identity--and the conclusion was forced that he was woven on the plan of a man--on the plan of a peculiar individuality--and that this peculiar individuality, this same individnality, remained after'the earthly organization was dissolved. [Applause.] ' . !<».'> An Outstretched HuMi ' "I STRETCH forth my hands unto thee," are words of the Psalmist, whose illustration may be found in the follow ing pathetic story told by John B. Gcugh: Two street Arabs we-e at the same time in a London hospital. One had been run over and was fatally hurt. The other, just recovering from fe^er, was allowed to lie down by the side of the little crushed boy. He .crept up to him and said: , r "Bobby, did you never hear about Jesus?" "No, I never heard of Hin£** ' " Bobby, I went to Mission School once, and they told us that Jesus would take you to Heaven when you die, and you'd never have ^hunger any more, and no more pain if jou axed Him." "I couldn't ask such a great big gentleman as He is to do anything for me. He wouldn't stop to speak .to a boy like me." t "But he'll do all that if you ax Him." • ,"J - ,s " How can I ax Him if I don't know where He lives? and how could I get there when both my legs is broken?" " Bobby, they told me at Mission School as how Jesus passes by. Teacher says He goes around. How do you know but what He might come to this hospital this very night? You'd know Him if you was to see Him." " But I can't keep my eyes open, Til legs feel so awful bad. Doctor says my die." "Bobby, hold up your hand, and He'll know what you want when He passes by." They got the hand up. It droptoed. Tried again. It slowly fell back. Tnree times he got up the little hand, only to let it fall. Bursting into tears, he said, "I give it up." " Bobby, lend me yer hand; put yer elbow on my pillar. I can do without it." ' So one hand was propped up. And when they came in the,morning the boy lay dead, his hand stil| held up for Jesus.--Youth's Companies*. --xu6 liOuuuii jdt&unmmW RWTUUAS that at the Royal Academy dinner every guest was in his platjfe before the Bishop of London said £raco, with one conspicuous exception. This was Mr. Henry M. Stanlej7, who "sauntered coolly in" when, the dinner > two- t h i r d s o v e r . . i . " . . .