j SUPERNATURAL WARNINGS. IN social gatherings some of the guests are often inclined to amuse and entertain the company by recounting aome of the wonderful" 44 signs" sr 44 omens" which the ignorant and su perstitious of the olden times regarded v as sent from above to guide them in the right way or warn them of impend ing danger. Indeed, it is not always those who can be classed with the ig- morantlv superstitious who are in fluenced by these tokens, even if in their hearts they are not aware of an undefined faith in them. Yet one will motice, if in a large company accident ally thrown together these relics of bygone days are discussed without pre '.meditation, scarcely two out of ten .give the same interpretation. One speaks of an ancient superstition handed down from his ancestors as a ** bad sign;1* but another will instantly )h, no! I was always fold that was .-a 4 good sign.'" A few days since we heard three 4ittle girls talking in the ears, One took off her glove, and her companion •«*cl aimed, as she took up her hand: ••Oh, Minnie! Look at the white «p*cks on your nails. They »*"© cov ered with them. What a naughty •girl you must be," said, she, laughing merrily. 41 Why? My mother says these specks are a sign I have bruised the Aaii a little. Is there anything naughty tin that?" 44 My grandmother says," replied the *B»t, 44 when she sees them on my nails -that they never come unless I have 'told a lie; and do vou know 1 think -she really l^elieves 1 have. But 1 know «there isn't a word of truth in it." 41 Well," said the third, 44 i guess *these 4 signs' are all nonsense, l am .jdways tola if a white speck comes on any nails it's 4 a sign of good luck.' But mamma always tolls me to be a good <girl and pay no attention to these silly - signs.' 'f We knew a young lady whose engage- .anent-ring broke on her linger while she lay dangerously ill. Among many 'to this day that is a sure sign of speedy -death. If the young lady's mother had not taught her more sensible lessons, .and at the moment of this occurrence -enforced them by her own cheerful re marks as she picked up the fragments, the little accident, coming when the young girl was ill, might have had seri ous effects. But she is an old lady 4 now, and has taught her children to Sve no heed to the many superstitions at even now are repeated to children without their parents' knowledge by servants, and many others who should .have more sense. We have watched with the sick who •would become almost wild if a doe howled near their window, or an owl wras heard at night near the house. We were once most solemnly urged a nice old lady, to swallow the hrst tooth which one of our children lost, because if we did not the child would never have any new growth of teeth! Was there ever anything more absurd P And yet it is not many years since this advice was given, and by one who, in -every other respect, was wise and sen sible. We have heard this often re- peated by nurse girls from the old •country. One of- oar children having the whooping-cough, a German woman in sisted that the child should be hsld by the feet, face downward, and cough in -each corner of the room, beginning at 'th»» north and ending at the east corner; ana then there would be no danger of jibe child's dying! When a mouse gnaws a dress some misfortune will follow." Of course^ The dress--and that is misfortune ^enough--is injured and must be mended. "Belore moving into a new house bread and ft new broom must be sent .in the first thing, or the owners will be • shlucky!" There is no end to these absurdities, *. and we only notice them to put pa- Trents, mothers particularly, on their guard, so that if such "signs" are told their children they may make haste to counteract any wrong impression which a young child may receive, by showing the absurdity of it. It is much more •common than is generally known for -mothers to repeat such foolish things without giving the antidote, if, indeed, -they have not themselves brought down from their grandmothers' stories some .small superstitions which so far in fluence their own minds that they are not quite ready to prevent them from taking root in their children's. But it is from the nurses to whose care our young children are too often committed that the most permanent mischief -comes. Most of that class have Arm faith in many of these 44 signs," and are not slow in indoctrinating the little ones in their eharge into the same be lief; and for that reason chiefly we call attention to the evil. Many of these superstitions may do oor children no harm, only so far as it is & mistake to allow a young cnild's 'mind to be filled with such trash; but many of the lessons taught by illiterate and imaginative nurses take root and have an injurious influence of which the mother has no idea. The timidity •which many little ones manifest, and •which often is a torment to them • through life, could be traced back to the wild ghost-stories of their nurses, which are usually authenticated b -some 44 omen." 44 We knew," they tel. •tiie children, 4 4 this terrible thing would happen, because we saw or heard cer tain things that betoken just such trou bles or accidents," and this 44 sign" is ' Jlmembered by the child thereafter. Y .Almost every child who is afraid in we dark has been made so, from very ; «arly years, by some " sign" born from •darkness, or fearful story of which that . V sign" was the forerunner. When a •jBiother finds her child is afraid in the •' *dark, she may be sure that something Aas been told the little one that has •areated this fear, or that she herself •••been injudicious in talking to the little folks. The sooner she counter acts this infltfehce and overcomes the fear the better for the child. No one %ut those who have suffered from such Jears can imagine all the horrors that a timid child sees in the dark. Judi cious, gentle, loving parents are the west physicians for such diseases, and i> keep them close by the mother's side, or, if a nurse is absolutely necessary, to keep close watch of her mode of talking to the children, is the best pre ventive.--^. & W. BMckf,** Ciri«- tian Union. The Nice Young Ma _____ > i- Stfltttr old grabbers aftei* ttftfney have everything their own way during the long hours of the garish day, but when Venus twinkles in the evening air their reign is over. They put away their blotted ledgers, their bags of coin, their heaps of securities, and waddle off to their homes to smoke, scheme, sleep and snore. They get out Of the way for the nice young man. 44 He's a nice young man." This constitutes the loftiest encomium a newly-fledged cavalier can hope to win from the Tips of a lady fair. It em bodies volumes, and paves the way to endless possibilities. If the ambitious youth who fired the Ephesian dome had overheard such a remark as he passed down street on his famous incendiary errand, he would undoubtedly have" turned back and lived a long and differ ent, life. Any young man whose am bitions are not inordinate is satisfied, $t the outset of life, to be considered a nice young man. Having attained such eminence there remains nothing more to be dofie till riper years impose heav ier burins upon him. If he has reached this social pinnacle by great labor with necktie and oollar, and by frequent rehearsals before his mirror, he is fortunate. If his greatness has bf in thrust upon him, as it were, with out effort on his part, he is much more fortunate. If he has achieved it from design, and without effort, he is a social genius. Poets are born, not made. This is where they differ from nice young men, for most of the latter are made. They are manufactured to order by tailors, hatters, barbers and others of that ilk. These artisans furnish the skill, while the nice young man furnishes himself and pays for the extraneous materials. There is no spectacle in the world so impressive as that of the nice young man preparing for an evening's exhibi tion of himself in society. The calm confidence with which he arrays him self is undisturbed by a single pang at the slaughter of female hearts that is certain to occur. He knows that the arrows of Cupid will fly in showers wherever he treads, but no tinge of compassion for the unhappy victims of unrequited love disturbs his stony heart. In this re- , spect he is cruel, but to be so is part of his business. He can no more help it, that he is irresistible, than the sun can help shining at noonday,» and as for loving or marrying all the women in the community--the thing is, of course, impossible. What is he to do? Hide his light under a bushelP Immure him self under a Mansard-roof, in the attic of the hotel he lives at? Stay at home and rob society of its brightest orna ment? The proposition is absurd. He will go forth and fulfill his mission. If destiny designed him for a social Jug- fernaut for the crushing of female earls, it is bad for the ladies, but he is really unable to help it. It is unpleas ant to be struck by lightning; but for all that, the . economy of Nature re quires that the lightning shall scintil late, and it Is always liable to strike somebody, and so must the sice young man scintillate in society, no matter what multude of feminine hearts shall be withered and slain by his baleful brilliancy. Some practical reader may be tempt ed to inquire of what possible use to the world is this immaculate young gentleman. The question is in order, but'hardly admits of a direct reply. Of what use are the glossy leaves and lux uriant blossoms of the stately magno lia? Is there any utility in the dahlias and roses of our gardens, or in the manifold splendors of the rainbow? The ass may browse upon the verdure of the hillside, but where is the neces sity of verdure being so refreshingly green in color? The ways of Provi dence are inscrutable, and much that we see around us exoitea curiosity and wonder. We marvel deeply wl^y this or that has been created, but we are unable to fathom the mystery." In the case of the nice young man of society, our perceptions are equally at fault, Unless in time he reforms his aspirations. What finally' becomes of him? may also be asked. Poes he fade away like a beautiiui dream, leaving behind him only delightful memories, some tailor bills and several dosen suits of clothes? Do emaciated spinsters, whom, in his zenith, he deprived of hope ana happi ness, steal to his lonely gr$ve» and be dew it with tears and strew it with flow ers? By no means. This is the cheer ful part of the picture. He wakes up some fine morning with a headache, and gloomily reflects on what & frivo lous personage he has finally become. Perhaps he scowls at the morning pa per, and sees that Brown has been ad mitted to the bar, or that Smith has started in business, or* that Jones, whom he used to know, commanded the troops in the last action with the Indians, or that some other former as sociate has made a bold inauguration of the game of life, and won some more substantial trophy than the transient smiles of a ball-room belle. No mat ter in what particular form the truth finally comes home to his heart, if there is any mettle in him he wakes up some fine day to the fact that he is be ing left a good ways to the rear in the foot-race of life, and that the devil, who is popularly supposed to take the hindmost, cannot be very far behind him. It is a good thing for him if he gets terribly blue, and for a number of days firmly believes that his life is a failure. Then, if there is manly stuff in his com position, he strikes out with intense en ergy to atone for the precious time he has wasted, and "slays the years full well." This is the hope of the nice young man. He reverses the experi ence of the gaudy butterfly. He basks his figurative and gayiy-painted wings in the sunshine of society for a season, or for several seasons, till he complete ly realises his own useiessness and in significance, and then he becomes an heftiest grub, and in business suit or working clothes puts in sturdy blows for lost time, ana eventually makes a man of himself. Let us think of these things when the lady-killer comes, and remember that some day he will have good sense, and that at heart he is not a bad fello w.--San Francisoo Ckronielt. ilfP aver, 1 •arderei for Dlsseettaa. fvtjr • -- On the heels of the body-shi w excitement in this neighN>rnood oomes a ghastly story from Connecticut, add ing a new horror to this repulsive species of crime. Last May, one Frank E. Bassett decoyed a man, JmQwn as 44 Stuttering Jack," into an unoccupied carriage factory, at East Bridgeport, and murdered him. The body was then stripped, placed in a barrel and taken by the murderer to the Yale Medical School, New Haven, whore it was of fered for sale as "a subject." ford refused to purchase the because it was not acoompani certificate of its being proc proper manner. Bassett drove with the barreled body to an unfrequented spot on the river and rolled it over the bank. A quarrel, the other day, between Bas sett and the woman with whom he lived, furnished a hint of the crime, which, being followed up, led to the discovery oi the body last Sunday and the arrest of the murderer. Extraordinary as Bassett's proceed ing was, it is hot without precedent. Half a century ago, Great Britain was intensely excited by the discovery, hot of a single crime of this kind, but of a whole series of murders for the sole ob ject of providing 44 subjects" for dis section.* The facts were sufficiently horrible, but current rumor exaggerated them, until a large part of the popula tion were almost paralyzed with terror. It was generally believed that bands of assassins were organized for the pur pose of providing 44 subjects" by mur der. These were supposed to lie in Wait at nightfall for a stray passer, who Was suddenly pounced upon, a cloth covered with pitch clapped over his mouth and nostrils, and^ when he was in this way suffocated the body was strippod, placed in a bag and sold to the doctors, who pai'd the money and asked no questions. Hundreds of per sons were believed to have been dis posed of in this way. The newspapers published the sensational rumors as iacts, and the 44 pitch-plaster" has passed into history in connection with these murders, and appears in most books of reference where mention of the matter is made, though no such ex pedient was actually employed. The official reports of the trial of William Burke, in 1828, and of John Bishop, in 1831, and the full confession of these men furnished the facts of the crimes which caused the excitement. Wiiliam Burke, an Irishman in Ed inburgh, one evening called upon an acquaintance named William Hare. The latter was in trouble on account of a lodger, an old man, dying on his hands. Burke suggested that as there was a great demand for bodies for dis section the body could be sold and the money divided, together with what ef fects the lodger had left. There was no difficulty in disposing of the M stiff" to one Dr. Knox, Who paid £8 for it. The ease with which this business was transacted set Burke to thinking. The market price for 44 subjects" was £8. The regular way of procuring them was grave robbing, which was an unpleas ant and risky proceeding. As no bodies could be obtained unless by il legal methods, with the exception of persons dying by the hangman, sur geons were not anxious to know how the 44 subjects" came to them, and hence asked no questions. Burke thought that if poor and friendless persons were put out of the way no body would be the wiser or worse off, and he would be a few pounds richer with but little risk. Hare was taken into partnership, and the two went to work. Their method of procedure was the same in all cases. A poor, friend less, hungry person--sometimes an old man or toy, but generally a woman-- was found in the streets, seduced to the house of Burke or Hare, under prom ise of food and shelter, and stupefied with drink. When thus helpless, one of the murderers would lie upon the body of the victim whilst the other held the mouth and nostrils closed. In this way the victim died of suffocation and there was no outward sign of vio lence. The business was carried on successfully for about a year, and fif teen bodies were disposed of to Dr. Knox for about £8 apiece, whon/a blunder brought the whole ghastly story to light. An old woman namea Mary Docherty went into a grocery to beg. Burke was in the shop and asked her name and where she was from. On learning she was a stranger to Edin burgh, he said she was a relative of his mother'8, took her home, gave her a meal, and in company with Hare and some women had a carouse for the pur pose of getting the intended victim drunk. She proved a tough customer, and all hands got drunk together, the carouse ending in a row which dis turbed the neighbors. Next day an in quisitive person saw a dead body par tially concealed under a bed. The re sult was the arrest of Burke on infor mation furnished by Hare. He was tried, convicted and made a full con fession of fifteen murders, all commit ted in the same way. Burke was hung in 1829, after giving a new verb to the English language, 44 to burke," being to stifle or suppress, as Burke stilled his victims. Three yean after the "Burking" sensation, excitement was renewed by the arrest in London of a man named John Bishop, for the murder of an Italian boy and the disposition of his body to the doctors. Bishop,1* after conviction, confessed to three murders fer the purpose of furnishing ^ sub jects." His method of procedure was similar to that of Burke, except in the manner of causing death. Two of his victims were boys and one a young woman. Each was found friendless and hungry in the streets, taken home, stupefied with liquor, drugged with laudanum, and whilst in this condition tied to a rope and let down into a well to drown. When dead, the body was taken up, hung by the heels to let the water and liquor run out of the stom ach, packed in a box or barrel and sold to the doctors. One body was yet pliant and scarcely cold when delivered at the surgery. Both Burke and Bish op denied knowledge1 of any other murders than those committed by themselves, and of any other phrties operating in the same way. .The result of the excitement caused by these revolting disclosures was the passage of a law in 1852, providing that bodies of friendless persons dying in the hospitals, workhouses and other places, should be turned over to the use of properly-licensed anatomists, and that quarterly returns should be made of the bodies so used, and whence obtained. Since that time no com* plaints of body-snatching have been made public, a sufficient supply being obtained in a legal manner, Cleveland H e r a l d . • > - « , , , THE LIOBTNim-ROp »3-. Three weeks he had his vigil kept, Tasted no food or even slept. t J v;- v. Yet ail the while the bad boy® brept A melancholy fanner hot, With his old gun crammed full of f Was sitting by his melon lot. OiJ1 i ] Among bus melons, where they ate + Enough to kill ten men, but fate - Deorsee that small beys etujffe d di-lat* Ibis maddened farmer, nigh insane, < * Tku* watched and pmyedTbut all in mis, , Hie boys preyed too--and none were tUtn. Just at this awfnl time there trod Up to the farmervwith a nod, ^ Ail agent for a lightning rod. ;• " good morning, sir!" he sweetly Wak*- <. »4 jfr lightningrod you'd bettertaSeTT • ««y are the best; just let me make~*tM I *k Q, spare yonr rods," the farmer'said, JyndAimed thegnn straight at hiaheiuL H"" Bhofc the agent--notqmte dead. wt*! ae bnll^te flattened at his feet; t. „ .u picked one up, and smiling sweeti Tfecseirted it; he ne'er *«s beat. " Now, farmer!" said he. oh, so sleek, '*'/• Mr ' bay a rod; then you may wreak , Tour vengeance on the other cheek!" ' ~ou cuyDtrn*. / f ,. I '! " •' * » • L i, , Br. Peteraiann's Death. / THE sad circumstances surrounding the death of him who is widely admit ted to have been the foremost geogra pher of his age, Dr. August Heinrich Petermann, come tardily to light. His sudden death, announced to have oc curred on the 27th ult., was stated to have been the result of an apoplectic stroke. Science mourned its loss in heartfelt terms, and tributes to his in dustry, his learning and the happy in fluence they have had upon geographi cal science were paid by every press in Europe. A correspondent of tne New York Herald, upon the first whisper that Dr. Petermann's death was not at tributable to apoplexy, set abowt an in vestigation of the facts. His story con firms the rumor that Dr. Petermann, driven to distraction by bodily suffer ing and . mental anguish, committed suicide. He telegraphs to the Herald as follows: 44 Dr. Petermann had for some time suffered from repeated attacks of bron chitis. He coughed almost continuous ly and complained of constant pain. His nervous irritation increased, and added to the physical suffering was a mental excitement of a domestic na ture which rendered him almost fran tic at times. He complained of a head ache so acute that the least touch upon the forehead produced violent pain. He was but fifty-six years old, ai»d it was hoped that nis strong coos titration would pull him through. On the morning of the 25th ult., after a rest less night, Dr. Petermann, who had been tenderly watched over by his wife and daughters, exhibited an agitation, which they alarmingly noted, but never for a moment attributed it to it* true cause. He begged them to retire from the room. 44 Here it may be proper to observe that the lady who, with his own grown up daughters had watched by his bed side, was his second wife, whom he married four months ago, and whom all describe as an exceedingly amiable lady, doing everything possible to pro mote his comfort. He had lived un happily with his first wife, an English lady, who is spoken of as a real bend. A divorce was decreed between the ill- mated pair in 1877, and since then it is stated that the first wife has bent her endeavors to destroy his peace of life- After his second marriage everything appeared to be going prosperously with him, when his first wife, it is al leged, by anonymous threats, recom menced her persecutions, and worried the great scholar to distraction. In his own family, too, he had troubles enough and to spare. His father and his brother had died by their own hands, and their fate apparently haunted him. With this knowledge of his life it may be guessed upon what a load of mental and bodily torture his wife and daughters closed the door as they went forth at his urgent request. 44 They did not remain absent long--• scarcely fifteen minutes--but on their return they met a sight which petrified them with terror. The husband and father was hanging limp and lifeless from the. window. Assistance was hastily summoned; the body was cut down; restoratives were tried, but in vain. The unfortunate scholar had sought in madness the solution of a problem greater than any he had ever wrought over with unclouded brains. He was dead, and crumpled in one of his hands with the olutcn of death was a paper, it was a letter addressed to his youngest daughter, and contained his will. It bore the date of Septem ber 6, showing that he had harbored the fatal intention for nineteen days. 44 An easily-understood motive led to a strong effort on the part of the family and friends to keep the cause of the death secret, but enough leaked out to lead to the unveiling of the en tire distressing tragedy. Thus it was that Dr. Petermann, in the ripeness of his scholarship, at the age of fifty-six, fell, owing to reaction from excessive work and conjugal torment he was un able to withstand, an easy prey to the hereditary self-destroying mania; the man whose vast mind had grasped and solved the most difficult geographical questions in both hemispheres suc cumbed to private infelicities that the world took no account of." --Twelve., yeufcw ago a poor man in Oakland, CaL, across the bay from San Franciseo, pre-empted a long stretch of mud-flats on the bay shore, erecting a shanty there and living in it. He has just been, awarded $95,000 gold coin for its twelve years' guardian ship and his 44 squatter rights?' --Ex-Gov. English, of New Haven, was visited by a tramp, the other day, who begged for an old pair erf shoes, and after receiving them returned in ah hour or two and asked for twenty oonta to pay for getting them mended, : ;(• J | Religious. 44 THOU MY PORTION LORDS* v AMTr Oi urn xm •fii' i Bmi»pxirdf every JJwry bliss life, can affo,_, Sayjmy soul, amid griefs flood; ' Thou my portion art, 0, Lord^1, ? Rise above these clinging fean, Barker than the storm-clond a brow, Though injustice keen may hold . V -f , * To thy lip her cup of gall. l** Ijook Heaven, and there behelA}'Hi) ,, &od, thy portion. thtronoK ?t all, f ' " A When like autumn leaves descend - / Hope's sweet visions lost and maned. Soul, they piteous arms extend Say, my portion act Hbon. Lord.. /' • Though the past hi swift review n•«/**<' firings to mind the ffctal dart .,4 -. Traitors in thy bosom threw-- ? " • Say,.uy portion. Lord, The* artoit mV Turn from earth's delusive smile, ' .Though it seems so wondrous sweet, . Ere thou, grieving, find its guile-*, Thou, my portion, still repeat, i LUte some bird, by painful dreaaM,. »• Staitled from a twilight rest, 's * Spreads his pinions, till the beaxH| . - lt Kiss their plumage from the _ So my scrnl, with nerveleaa wiau, Mourn no more a feeble will, Tiaged with brigtan< , Thou art. Lord, my portion 1 mpm* Radiant with celestial glow, , Future triumphs wait frtr thee^*»**Si* • 1. . Dim the colors earth can know Wh£n thy Purthm thntt shalt ee» • if. & Pareons, i* LauisviU* Ctmritr- Jovrnal. •f. rir* loftday-Schaaft Ltamw i'-.; 'V.i .11*; r I --- ; ' ....... it FOUHTH QUARTER. Nov. 3-.'Thp T*n ijepen Lnke 1?: S3 NOT. 10--Whom the Cord Receives .Luke 18r 1HK Nov, IT ZaochcuSj the Publican.. Luke 19: lr-10 Nov.St4--Judaism Overthrown....Luke2L: 8~m Dep. I-The Lord « Sapper Luke 2fc:I0-2Q SS ::£fe & K Dee. M--The Savior's Last Words. Luke mt 44HS8? Deo.29--Review. Temperanoe or mssiowww «on- "She Hath Done Wh*t She Could*" MEN and women, standing in their place, doing their work, trusting in God's love and help, grow deeper, soar higher, spread more widely as the years pass. They do not, perhaps, pass for saints, for they do no extraor dinary things. They do not retire into convents to pass days inprayer. But everyone comes to honor and love them more and more; men come to lean on. their strength, take counsel of their ex perience; they spread light and peace around them, day by day, and so cause the Kingdom of God to come more and more, simply by doing what they can. Whenever we do what we can, we im mediately can do more. Like those who are ascending a mountain, each step,, so insignificant in itself, carries them on and ut>s till new scenes open before them. They have only to keep walk ing on, taking one step at a time, and< presently they find themselves rising above the region of forests, begin to get glimpses of blue lakes lying below them, of sister peaks rising above them, of the great snow-covered fields which soar upward, pure and cold,, into the glittering air; they see the distant ocean, spotted with white sails,, the forest rolling its sea of verdure far away up to the pale horizon. So, as we keep doing what we can, steadily,, constantly, life opens before us> Heaven ypens above us, the world' comes around us, rich, varied, beautit- ful, and we find ourselves on great eminences of thought and love, hardly knowing how we came there, for we have been only doing what we could all th? time--no more, no less.--Jeums Freeman Cldrtii vM * dulge a "hope*1? 'TblfT W were any proof of one's preaspt good physical condition, "and or his i&xfDip- tion from disease, that a longFt}m<|&o he experienced a short period of bousur fag health! , .. It is sad to contemplate this lairge company of nominally Christian'yw pl©» who vet have relMwatl fatoffhe ways of self-seeking, ana wbdM spirit- U»1 vitality has all departed. They are no longer "living epistles" in the Fau- line sense, and only a reference to the 0htu:cn records would give satisfactory adflver been seriously con- seems to be the lack of any profound sense bf personal responsibility, tne want .faq^tn^s, wl living, omnipresent God. There is fail ure, too, to make a clean-cut distinc tion tetfttgi t^f jworldiy and the Chris tian character. There seems to be no wal apprehension of religion as a pm®- tical, everyday matter, designed to ef fect the whole life, in all its phases ahcl in all its details. As a natural result, self-sacrifice, and but little of the deep er life which Is hid With Christ in God. Such people need to-be converted over %ain, • Thispasiive, iegaUve 'SortCM religion, which prompts to nothing good even if it lead to nothing positive ly bad, is simply no religion at all. They need to be impressed with the truth that religion means something; . -HmUUs real.--Omareaationalist. ̂ FACTO AMI FlfflJRHK SuccEss is bora of industry. ., , v - J» Ireland this year there were 5,20?,- acres cultivated, a decrease of 62,- D%>acres as compared,with £877, .The ehiei decroase was in oats, potatoes and M*x. v Tbe following is an official statement of the coinage executed at the United States Mint during September, 1878: Double-eadee................ 218,600 QtiMter-earfes. .. 21,000 Standard dollar*....,.v......4,764,000 Religion Hot Here Passivity* < IT is not uncommon to find the unconverted those whose concepr tion of the Christian life is that of a certain passive condition* with little apparent thought of involving any par ticular responsibility. They may have a vague idea that to become a Christian, would require some modification of daily living, but this is by no means the prominent thought. Righteousness is really a secondary thing. Should thay "experience religion, that would be the end of the matter, as far as the present is concerned, and to " enjoy'r it their main idea for the future. Thusy In their view, religion ends where,, in. reality, it only begins, and the jpy which is but the natural result of a faithful and conscientious discharge ©f religious obligation, becomes its para mount aim. For conversion it but the beginning, the initial act, of a life of true rigli£ eoasness; and holiness, not happiness*, with service to others* constitutes- the- true end of Christian living. Conver sion is but the turning about from the old life to the new; the journey is yet te be accomplished. The battle re mains to be fought, aadthe victory over selfishness ana sin to be won. Bad habits are now to be overcome,, n.n/1 a better disposition, in every respect, to be cultivated. Self-denials will be re quired and struggles are inevitable* why« a constant appropriation) of di vine grace will be needed to ward off temptation, and to shape the develop^ ncent of character according to the per fect model given us in Christ. Nor does Christian obligation cento® on self, and this noblest sen-dcvelopxaent mere ly. No man liveth to himself, alone* or even chiefly. Service is to be- rendeiwd to others, and the Kingdom of Christ is to be built up through the instru mentality of Christian endeavor. And when the spirit of God is cherished in the heart, tnere will be a constant im pulsion from within to aagage iit&his work. I But this mistaken notion that relig ion is merely a passive- thing is by no means confined to the unconverted. Too many professing Christians are cherishing a delusion equally fatal. Half unoonsciously» it may be, they are drifting along with the current of word- liness, |ust as they were before they took upon themselves the name of Christ. There is & feeling, not clearly defined, perhaps, that because they are now in the church, and upon the whole about as "good" as the average, they are safe, and bound for glory with the whole company. It must be all right with them, of oourse; for did not they once " experience religion," and in- W,797,000 143,500 108.500 62,500 2.784.U00 Product. $4,849,800 4,661,700 4.928,400 4,161.400 3,285,300 2,550,200 S:«o Total Coinage 3,129,650 $8,34(ft{00 THB bullion yield ofcall the Alines of the Pacific Slope reporting for the first eight months of the- present year was as follows: • >.?:f r- Mttu*. January-....... 28 February. \4.. 'k.% ViA .80 M a y . ! . ' ! ! . ' ! ! ' 4 0 June „....36 July. •». • • r* .. .js August... -- Total j,.... L'... ?..,. $29,237,100 Of the product here stated, over 40 per cent, was in gold, and the re mainder in silver,, deducting $782,000, the value of the lead' extracted. FRUMVGDLTWMfi is making ripid progress in. the United States. Acddrd- mg to recent official statements, the land appropriated to this branch of in dustry is- 4,500,090 acres. Upon this there flourish 11)2,000.000 apple trees, 28,000,000 pear trees, 112,270,000 peach trees and 14fl.,260t0©@ grapevines. The total value of the fruit crop throughout the United States is set down at §188,- 216,700, an amount equal to half the value of the average wheat crop of the country. Toward that large sum ap ples are held to contribute $50,400,000, pears $14* 130*000,. peaches $46,135,000, grapes $2,118*00% strawberries $5,000,- 000, and other fruit $10,432,000. The grain movement this fall is far in excess- o£ whali it was a year ago. At Buffalo, the total receipts by lake for the month of September of grain of all kinds* including that received in the form of Hour, foot up 14,787,060 bushels, against 348,095 bushels for September, 1882. For the season to date, the grand aggregate is 59,738,882 bushels, against 39,641,307 bushels to the same time last year. Exports by canal' show a corresponding increase, and aggregate for the season 42,188,- 606- bushels, against 32,466,970 bushels last year; Railway receipts share in the general gain, footing up 2,490,500 bushels for September, against 1,446,- 800 bushels for the same month last year. For the first nine months of railway receipts are 22,884,400 against 10v34$v440 bushels for the same months of 1877. Of grain received at Buffalo by lake, 3,901,557 bushels went eastward by rail during September, 187T. For the year to date, railroad exports of grain received by lake aggregate 14,923,362 bushels against but 6s 124,389 bushels for the same time last year.--Troy {N. Y.) Times. Tfeifi o@trieh4eather business in creases* but the s«pply is getting sadly short. Twenty pairs of ostriches were recently sold in South Africa for breed ing purposes, and fetched an average of nearly $1,000 per pair. As much as $1,425. was paid lor one pair, while the lowest price paid was $650. It was only a few years ago that ostriches eoutd he procured in South Africa for eatchinff, and for exhibition purposes in London they sold at a mere trifle. £ven the Zoological Society in London* remarkable for its collection of foreign birds, does not possess a single speci men of tiie African ostrich. At a r»> cent sale of feathers a choice parcel realised $340 per pound, or about $4 for each separate feather. In 1860 the exports from the Cape of Good Hope were about 2,297 pounds, valued at $96,300. Ten years later the quantity had increased twelvefold and the vaiuo fivefold. In 1873, 31,581 pounds were exported, at a value of $798,395, and last year the exports had reached in value the sum of $1,967,030. --While a colored man was engaged in.cleaning out the rubbish which had accumulated in the building formerly occupied by the defunct Dime Savings Bank of Sacramento, Cal., the other day, he came across what h© supposed were forty parcels of $20 rolls of sil ver. The officers of the bank heard of the diseovexy, and, rushing down to the premises, were chagrined to find that the rolls consisted of lead pipe of the diameter of half a dollar, and done up in brown paper wrappers, which they had exposed day after day in the bank windows, thns gulling the publiQ by .. display of supposed ooin.