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. ' : * / "V V - •••gg***'*- •>A * • i I- . «f *•»/ , i , AV -< * ••'• Ui './is. ViM' . '-1 t t . y|n | ̂ ;> "i. Vy-'^frtiW- -. *.jJEaaE^35SSP' * > . ' ' • . IXfiEXIOlIS RUSES. Klrat*«r *nd Quick Wit Aid at Critical ITIoinelit*. Gretry was wont to employ a singu­ lar method of slackening or quickening the pace of a walking companion to suit his own inclination. " To say," .he would argue, " you walk too fast or too slow is impolite; bjit to sing softly an air to the time of the walk of your companion, and then by degrees either to quicken the time or make it slower, is a stratagem as innocent as it is con­ venient."1 The principle of Gretry's ruse was well exemplified in the case of the stingy farmer who gave his hired haymaker buttermilk and whey for breakfast, and going to the field, heard the man singing in a drawling way : * .M ' B-u-t-t-e-r-m-i-l-k and whey, I Faint ail day, faint all day; scythe keeping time to the tone. The next morning the farmer set a good meal of bacon and eggs before the man; and when he went to see how he was getting on with his work, found his arms going swiftly to " Bacon and eggs, take care of your legs?" A debate in t he House of Commons ©B the Peace Preservation act, or some such measure, was enlivened by the re­ lation of tha following story: A West- meath landed proprietor was so at­ tached to'field sports that he turned a deaf ear to his daughter's entreaties, and could not be persuaded to take a house in Dublin where a gentleman abode in whom she was something • more than interested. One fine morn­ ing the Squire was astonished by the coming of a threatening letter, which ; he out in the fire; the next post brought another; and soon a third came, the last illustrated with a spirited sketch «f a coffin. The recipient showed them to the Stipendiary Magistrate, and be­ fore long a number of detectives were *:4wisv in the neighborhood; but they • could neither discover the senders of • the objectionable missives nor stop fresh ones pouring in with every mail. At last the threatened man gave in, and ^ took him.elf and family to Dublin, and * before long found himself turned into a father-ih-law. When the happv pair . mere about to leave, after the wedding­ -breakfast, the bride, throwing her arms round his neck, said: "Gkvhome, father: no one will hurt a hair of your head. T wTote the threatening letters scared you away. I wanted to *feome to Dublin, and as you would not .agree, I thought I would try the Rib­ bon scheme; and it succeeded.1' Had the wily damsel been taketa to *<<*8k for playing her sire such a scurvy - 'tflck, she Would probably haid pleaded that all is fair in love or war. • Love, however, is a poor excuse for decep- ^ tion, while to cheat a foe, especially ""when that foe is an invader, is justifia­ ble enough. During the Franco-Ger- 6 anan War, a couple of hundred Uhlans I ^usrived in a Norman village. One of 1#e peasants hurried to a neighboring hamlet to warn a well-to-do farmer that he might expeot a visit from the unwelcome raiders. The farmer was «qual to the emergency. Calling his -w«le and daughter, all went to work ' %4th a will; Torn quilts, tattered pet- *4ikoi.ts, dilapidated gowns, were thrown -over the backs of the cattle, enveloping „th^m up to their horns; their feet and their heads were bound with straw; and then the sheep and goats were l.Aneated in the same fashion. Bottles •of medicine were scattered about, a large trough was filled with water. Up ^•osnte the Uhlans; but at sight of the strangely attired animals ana the plen- ' tiful supply of medicine bottles, they 1iesitat-ed. At last one of the troopers Mnquired what was the matter. "The S'lague, that's all," said the farmer, [e-had: to, answer no more questions; # Jus visitors turned their horses' heads * «bd galloped off at their best speed, to snake requisition elsewhere. % 4 , .For a less legitimate end did Patrick . Murphy exercise his invention.. Pat Was a candidate for admission into the jfornce force of a certain town, and his appearance before the Mayor was . Ith a cry from the crowd of ^IISSiLi-'be of " He can't write . j " Kls Honor an- that lio was only there to take .! the names of tlwe ;vha wished to apply for the vacant situation, and Murphy tocome again that day ^ fortnight. ...... T ,.!' Saw, Pat," said a well-wisher, " go yjhome, and every night do you get a big jjpiece of , paper and a good stout pen, ttfyid keep writing your name. I'll set "the copy for you.'1. , Pat obeyed instructions; and when the day came and the Mayor asked if he could write, boldly replied: "Troth, isn't it myself that jist can." -t* " Take that pen," said the. Mayor, •write--write your name?" Pat took up the pen, exclama- : Jftons arose behind him. " Pat's a-writ- "Tfiag; he's got a quill in his fist!" cried -one amazed rival. "Small good will Jt do him; he can't write wid it," cried ^another. They were dumfounded when |f^lurphv recorded his name in a bold, Jt-ound fiand and the Mayor declared *, " That'll do ;11 but, recovering front their ^jfjurprise, two of them shouted out to- Jgethfer: "Ask him to write somebody jifflse's naipe, yer Honor." -»*«, " W rite my name, Murphy,'1 said the - JMayor. . a Write yer Honor's name!" ex claimed Pat. " Me commit forgery, * and goin1 into the police! I can't do it, *'^er Honor!" The Irishman's conscientious scru- * •» were as opportunely improvised as 4'fhe ear-ache afflicting Brougham, when f, engaged in an important case as junior -counsel. His leader had been speak­ ing for several hours, when he faltered suddenly and began to hesitate. odBrougham rushed to the rescue. Put- atiling on his face an expression of great, guttering, ho begged to address the '•Iscom-t on a matter personal to himself, felt sure their Lordships would' *%»ardon the interruption if they knew "!*the agony he was enduring in his right J|car from the killing draught rushing through the door leading into theCom- " Won Pleas. Might he, in the interest; - of his clients, entreat the interposition >of the Bench? Their Lordships ex- , pressed; their sympathy for the suffer- ,; ings of Mr. Brougham, and ordered - the door leading into the other court to ; be closed; but still the obnoxious • draught came. Windows were exam- • ined and pulled about until the martyr . e^-4d£g^ceeing his leader had re covered himself, pronounced himself satisfied, and free from pain. Strategy is a thing to be admired when it is employed for the circumven­ tion of rogues. While the French were in Mexico, stage-robberies on the Mon­ terey road became very frequent. The French Commander resolved to put a stop to them; and this is how he did it. He dressed up half a dozen Zouaves in ladies' attire, and sent them on in the next stage, their faces hidden by veils, their carbines hidden by their petticoats. The stage was stopped; the ladies, without waiting to be in­ vited, left the vehicle, and tell into line with the rest of the passengerg. Sud­ denly a series of reports came from that line, and some dozen robbers Jay dead; the rest discreetly disappeared. For a long while afterward it was only requisite to display a shawl and bonnet conspicuously to secure a free passage for a stage on that route. Taking things for granted brought illicit distiller to grief, after carrying on his illegal calling for years, under suspicion, indeed, but nevertheless with complete immunity. M'Tavish rented a small farm in Glentartan, but the revenue officers never found ah ap­ paratus upon the premises, nor any of the necessary ingredients about the farm. Every nook: and cranny of the neighboring hills and dells was rigor­ ously searched again and again, with­ out any result save exposing the offi­ cers to the taunts of M'Tavish. Where this wonderfully-concealed " still" might be was the question to which no answer was fprthcoming. Dwellers in the glen, of cburse, had not the faint­ est notion oif its whereabouts. One night an Exciseman with two comrades roused upjthe occupants of a farm­ house and demanded a horse and cart in the Queers name, saying he had seized M'Tavish's illicit still with all its contents, aml^required assistance to carry the whole to headquarters. There was no resisting the demand; horse and cart were soon ready, and a driver, too. Getting into the cart with his assist­ ants, the Exciseman ordered the man to drive as fast as he could, without telling him where he wanted to be taken. Never dreaming but that the officer had previously discovered and seized the still, the man drove on, and pulled up at the concealed spot. Out jumped the Exciseman; the entrance was burst open, and M'Tavish was a prisoner and his bothy emptied of its contents before he could comprehend how the misfortune had befallen him and his long-kept secret had been dis­ covered. Very cleverly too did M'Manus, the Bow Street runner, unearth a hidden burglar whom he suspected of having broken into a gentleman's house a few miles out of London. Going into a public house " used" by the man he wanted (Smith, let us call him) M'Manus got into conversation with the company, and by-and-by observed that he did not see Smith. It came out that that worthy had not been there since the day of the robbery. The runner next inquired at the different coach offices, and found that a man resem­ bling Smith had gone down to Oxford the day after the burglary had been committed. The next Oxford coach took him down to that town. Then getting himself very shabbily dressed, M'Manus went round the outskirts of the town, and when he came to an inn, went in, saying: "I want a pot of beer for Smith;" to be answered that they knew no such person there, and go his ways. At last his perseverance was re­ warded by the reply: " We'll send it." 'No," said M'Manus, " that won't do; he's in a hurry, and I'm to go with you." Go with the beer he did, found lis man, and the stolen property in his possession.--Chambers' Journal. An Affectionate tionse. Our Dumb Animate tells the pathetic story of a guardian goose, between whom and an old blind horse there was a strong affection. The incident took place on a cotton plantation in Missis­ sippi. One of a favorite pair of Mr. X-'s carriage horses becoming blind, he was sent to this plantation to spend the re­ mainder of his days in ease. A flock of domestic geese made a part of the stock of the place, one erf which con­ ceived a strong attachment to the blind horse. The goose soon became Ms pilot, eon- stantly keeping before him when at pasture, ajid leading him by the sound of her voice. One day while Mr. X. was seated at dinner, he observed the grnm*% in a dis­ tant field, violently describing circles with upraised wings and extended neck. The horse could not be seen, and a gang of negroes was summoned tot he rescue. The negroes found the blind horse lying helplessly on his back a,t the bottom of a gorge, and descended to his assistance. But the goose,, ap­ prehending that their mission was one of mischief, descended also, and as2 sailed them with violence* At the next plowing season, the over­ seer of the estate, finding the spring woijk behindhand, advisedMr. X. to use the blind horse, and his mate, and they were put into the field. The guardian goose, insisting upon leading her blind charge, was so in the way at the end of every furrow that it was necessary to catch her, lest, in turning to reeross, the guide, absorbed in devotion, should be trampled to death. The " nooning" came, and the plow­ man, reported Tiis embarrassment to the overseer, who had the goose put in a pen until the plowing should be fin­ ished. A few days after, when the horses had been led to the stable for their mid­ day meal, the goose, by a desperate effort, escaped from her confinement and rushed to the stable, where the horses had just been tied, but not, it would seem, in the accustomed stalls. She caressed, with bill and neck the fetlocks of the wfcong horse, and was killed by an unlucky Kick. The Difficulties of Being Agreeftble. Actresses have abundant hair, fine teeth, all physical beauty, because they train themselves to beauty, though not originally better endowed than most others. "Actresses' voices are set habit-*' ually, not in complaining, whining/ creaking or vociferating Keys, but m chest-tones clear and calm in quality. Actresses do not grow old, partly in consequence of their constant attention to the toilette, partly in consequence of the fact that they have hope and ambi­ tion, and enough occupation and enough rest, and do not worry over trifles. To remain young is one of the diffi­ culties of being agreeable. Whoever does so is obliged to adopt the Aris­ totelian maxim-of moderation. Placid­ ity of temper is necessary to the clear- pencilled eyebrow and the magnolia complexion. Frowns, weeping, excite­ ment, despair and laughter wrinkle the face. Nature keeps wotnen's forms well rounded to extreme old age, and their faces remain agreeable when they take the trouble to keep them so. The brow, the fair front, need never be fur­ rowed. Of all we meet in the street, very few have tranquil, undistorted faces: the old are screwed out of shape, the young are going to be so. A well- preserved beauty is one who neither puckers her face into wrinkles nor mauls it with her hands: she never buries her knuckles in her cheeks, nor rests cheek on palm or chin on hand, nor folds her fingers around her fore­ head while reading, nor rubs her "argent-lidded eyes." She veils her face from the wind; she does not work with uncovered neck and arms: there­ fore they do not become tawny. She avoids immoderate toil, which makes the hair to fall, the features sharp, the skin clammy and yellow. She avoids immoderate laziness, as causing obesity and a greasy complexion or pallor, las­ situde and loss of vitality. Such are the difficulties of being agreeable.-- LippincoWs Magazine. Religious. He Got Even. Last evening a tall, raw-boned, hungry-looking man, wearing the garb of a countryman, stepped up to the office of the Grand Hotel and, after 4 rastling" with the register, on which he scrawled " ft. Townscnd, Newport, K y . h e a c c o a t c d O l c v k S c h u y l e r , a n d "if okoncd hod take a bite of supper," throwing down a dollar on the counter. The money was raked in by Schuyler, who said: You'll find the dining-room on the first floor. Jtist go up three flight of steps.". The stranger hesitated. He glanced at the place where the dollar was put; then he looked hard at the clerk, as if waiting for something. " Right up stairs, sir," said the clerk. " But ah--well, don'11 git any changd back?" "Change?" "Yes. That's a dollar bill I give you." " Of course. That's all right. That's the regular charge, for supper." " A dollar Jor supper? Well, here goes!" X And then Mr. Townsend broke for that supper-room with a strange light in his eves and a look of firm determi­ nation in. his face. Sitting down, he wrapped his oowhide boots around the legs of. the table and sailed in. He scooped the grub in with both hands, and kept it up for full half an hour. Those sitting around were soon attract­ ed by the novel sight, and one matter- of-fact guest, thinking the man was eating on a wager, kept tally, and this was what he checked off on a bill of fare: Two cups of doffee, three plates plain brejad, two plates fried mush, one plate corn beef, one plate chicken, one plate cold ham, two plates loin of veal, two plates broiled beef, three plates broiled ham, four plates fresh fish, three plates fried eggs, two plates fried potatoes, one plate baked potatoes. The man who "scored" during this epigastric feat .th^n took the record to Schuyler, who, after enjoying a hearty lausrh at the expense of the hotel, figured on it, with restaurant prices as a basis, and found that his Newport friend had got away with just $4.06 worth.--Cin­ cinnati Enquirer. --PosUnaster Tobey, of Boston, has, within six months, forwarded 4,864 un­ stamped letters to their destination, and has received almost money enough, in return, to meet the expense. AMONG the disagreeable things in this life ia Worrowing an umbrella and | ! finding the owner' sname on the handle I pleasing become "A MAN will please more by never offending than by giving a great deal of delight." In this remark of Dr. Johnson's lies the art of being agree­ able. But nothing is more difficult than to avoid offending. Most people are offended by trifles. For instance, persons generally take umbrage at su­ perior brilliance of conversation. 4 4 The man who talks for fame will never please." Even he who talks to unbur­ den his mind will please only some old and solitary friend. Large experience and great learning, however quietly carried, are very offensive to those who have them not. Cleyer things cannot be said unobtrusively Enough. A per­ son so brilliant as to make others feel that his efforts are above theirs will be detested. Moreover, one of the diffi­ culties of being agreeable is that the apprehension of offending and the small hope of pleasing destroy all cap- tivation of manner. The confident ex­ pectation of pleasing is an infallible means of pleasing. Characters pleased with themselves please others, for they are joyous and natural in mien, and are at liberty from thinking of themselves to pay successful attention to others. Still, the self-conceited and the bragging are never attractive, self being the topic on which all are fluent ana none inter­ esting. They who dwell on self in any way--the self-denvers, the self-improv­ ers--are hateful to the heart of civil­ ized man. The Chinese, who knew everything beforehand, are perfect in self-abnegation of manner. 44 How are your noble and princely son and your DQautiful and angelic daughter?" says Mandarin Number One.- -"Dog of a :on have I none, but my cat of a fonghtcr- Is., we?!;?* -says CT<iaTiTi Num­ ber Two. . . To set up for an invariably agreea­ ble person you must adjust yourself to the peculiarities of others. You must tftlk of books to bookworms; you must be musical with musicians, scientific with savants. Furthermore, you have to make believe all the time that you are enjoying yourself. The belle is a lady who has an air of enjoying her­ self with whomsoever she talks. We like those who seem to delight in our company. You must not overdo it, and thus make yourself suspected of acting; but do not imagine thajt you will please without trying. Those who are care­ less of pleasing are never popular. Those who do not care how they look invariably look ugly. You will' never please without doing all these things and more. What a Pecksniffian business it is to go into! Who wants to refrain from smart, spiteful sayings when he hap­ pens to think of them, to abjure laugh ing at friends and ridiculing enemies, to renounce the tart rebuff, the keen riposte? Amazing that any succeed! and many do. There are some gentle­ men who are entirety agreeable-- " gen­ tlemen all through," like Robert Moore in "Shirley." They have order,neatness, delicacy of movement, reticence, in­ curiosity; their unaffected English has almost the charm of a musical compo­ sition. Thev are generally men whose mothers well nagged them when they were small with perpetual adjurations: 44 Do not bang the door," 44 Stop kick­ ing your fee*," 44 Stop clinking your plate with your fork," and so on. In some inscrutable way, young girls often attain thorough agreeableness Look at lwzy little Jane; she has ac­ quired the highest charm of repose, Look at "Sally, who used to be such an angular and hurried little girl; she is all quips and cranks ana wreathed smiles now. And meek, humble-mind­ ed Martha, in former davs so diffident, blushing and taciturn, has found out the value of a deferential demeanor and the Knack of being a good listener, and can sing a ballad with a pathos and dramatic effect that eclipse the highly- embellished performances of other girls. Ladies who make a profession of irresistibly alluring. WHERE. BAST THOU » > ; lT()*DA.Yf -- - dL-,, Aft. l i e * # 1 ) 1 kmm tolled in fUn,1"15 E'en tluvujfh be watered his »etxl with team; Bright KoMen »talks and the foil-cared grain In Goa's ""'due seasonfor Mm awem*! Dear Christi*® worker, whatefaeaf for you tJtonds wifely bemnd in fbe twilight gnly ? Thy mul drinKa* Messing midst laJlinf d^-w-- Oh, tell us, where hast then gleamd to-day? Has some fallow ground sprang; grees at Doth the stubble-field its grace renew? Where bramble shadows have long o'erowt, iUo? »ke« frS Humility's fragrant g«ta!a lean-- Doth rude fenoe^comcr Where sorrow's sickle, with edjp* so ki Ijeii ••ituiilii. ui yrusisRitJ in r yield treasure! itb edjpj so keea, Huisnig Marfjr, Hot Weather In India. The hot weather throughout India this year has been described on all sides as of exceptional severity. In Calcutta the heat has been extraordi­ nary even for that part of the country, and there have been numerous cases of heat apoplexy reported. In the north­ west Provinces the heat has been al­ most unprecedented. We hear of the thermometer registering as much as 120 deg. in the shade, and of deaths taking place even among the natives in consequence. Regarding the south of India, we find that the heat has been no less remarkable there than it has been in other parts of the country. The other day one of the Madras newspa­ pers reported that the air was so hot that a cheroot could almost be lighted at it. In Bombay we have had our share of hot weather. The monsoon has at last broken, but before it did the horrors of the situation were wonder­ ful. There are two kinds of heat in India, and each has its admirers. There is the moist heat of the sea-bor- dering districts, and the dry heat of up-country. Sojourners in the interior say, when they come down to Bombay, that the heavy moisture in the air is more sickening than even the hot winds of the Deccan. With khus khus tatties you can reduce the temperature indoors up-country, but the moistened atmos­ phere of Bombay will admit of no such palliation. It hangs over you every­ where like a steaming blanket. Go where you will, do what you will, there is no escape from it and its immediate attendants, inordinate perspiration, collapsed energies, liver complaints and prickly heat. The monsoon, which generally breaks about the 9th of June, held off with a persistency which was phenqmenal, and the heat day after day was tre­ mendous. There were at least two nights when sleep was next to impossi ble. The air was perfectly still. Not a leaf fluttered. The faintest zephyr wafted from the sea would have been a godsend, but it came not. The awful not stillness .soemod the prelude- to some super n aiui al asUophe. It con­ veyed a 'inysfeciidus -ciisxj'Oi \v'aiiu»g lor thing worse to come. A grand, crashing, destructive thunder-storm would not have been disgraced by a prelude of such stillness. But the thunder-storm which would have been welcome, never burst, and the dense heat continued. First, the wearied victim turned upon his couch, restless­ ly trying to woo sleep to come to him; then he burst into a profuse perspira­ tion, and after vainly turning over and over, he had to get up and walk about or throw himself exhausted into a cane chair in the veranda or the open air, and wait patiently for daybreak. The hour before the sun rose §r'as hotter than any other part of the weary twenty- four hours. The sun might have brought a breeze with him, but he rose red and angry through hot gray mists, the monarch of stillness and insuffer­ able heat. *It was not until early in the forenoon that a breeze sprung lip, and the eagerness with which it was wel­ comed was the most eloquent testi- Oh, reaper, hast thongleaned thereto-day? Where Satan's briers tin fingers wound Have not your labors been all too brief? Remember, where sharpest thorns are found, StandB richest blossom for Master's sheaf I Yet there's precious grain in ev'ry tie-Id - No scythe sweeps wholly, though swung for aye, For thousands of sweets the harvests y?eld-- Say, Christian, where hast thou gleaned to­ day? 5'eo Job returned from the close-mown iiafe More richly laden than joyftd Ruth; For him, where othors thought crop would fail. Flashed gems of wisdom and pearls of troth! When in stubble-field of affliction tried, like grand old Daniel, we'll often pray The Angel of Mercy will walk beside, ,, And bind our sheaves at life's closing day! --Christian at Worfc. International Sunday-School Lessons. THIRD QUARTEB. Sept. 1--Return of the Seventy.. .Lake 10:17-21. Sept. 8--The Good Samaritan Luke 10:30-37. Sept.IB--Importunity in Prayer.. .Luke 11: 5-13. Sept. 22--Covetousness..... ....... Luke 12:15-39, Sect. 29--Review of the Lessons for the Quarter. mony to the severity of the airless peri­ od of infernal torture which had just been passed through. It was splendid weather for apoplexy, and gasping thin men who had stout, short-necked, full- blooded friends, and knew that they would be gasping too, entertained many a gloomy speculation upon the proba­ ble effects of such dreadful weather. Under such circumstances as these it can readily be imagined how welcome the monsoon has been in Bombay this year. It simply came up with a short­ lived gale about midnigh| one night last week, and, after spluttering about mildly for several days, giving no good regular downpour, it burst forth on Fridav afternoon with a hurricane,(and rained for twelve hours at a stretch. On Saturday it was distinguished by one or two violent gusts that did a con­ siderable amount of damage. Windows were torn off, buggies were all but blown over, and the waves in the har­ bor were tossed to an extraordinary height.--Bombay {India) Gazette. --Abby Hassadah Smith, the well- known lady who died, the other day, in Glastonbury, Conn., had sisters named, respectively, LauJrilla Alleroylia, Cyrih- thia Sacretia, Julia Evalina and Hancy Zephina! And ail these beautiful bap tismal arches buttressed on Smith! « GIVE ME BACK MY YOUTH." WHEN the worn-out slanderer and voluptuary, Dr. Woolcott, lay on his death-bed, one of his friends asked if he could do anything to gratify him. Yes," said the dying man, eagerly, " give me back my youth." A lost youth! Who can estimate the value of youth's freshness, its strength, its opportunities for laying up treasures that shall be a resource of pleasure and satisfaction when the winter days of life come? I remember seeing written on the fly­ leaf of a copy of Village Hymns, many years ago, these words: "Lost--be­ tween the hours of sunrise and sunset a golden hour, set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, as it is gone forever." If the writer of that sentence put such a value upon this loss of one hour, what would be his thought of the loss of days, weeks, months and years that make up the youth of one's life. < Many a man and woman sit to-day looking out of the western windows of life, watching the setting sun and long­ ing for the return of the morning of their days, that they may live them over again and better improve them. "Live as long as you may," said Sou they, "the first twenty years are the longest half of your life, and the most pregnant in consequence." It is the seed-time of life, and what is sown then will be reaped when the harvest time comes. We hear young men talking about " sowing their wild oats," as if that were a sort of necessity to be got through With. There never was a more mistaken idea. These same "wild oats" yield a plentiful harvest, that, in after life, the sower gathers to his sor­ row. "There is no fault or folly of my life," says Mr. Ruskin, "that does not rise up against me and take away my joy." What begins In cobwebs ends in chains, as regards what some people mildly term "youthful indiscretions." Many a young man who begins with the lesser dissipations, and thinks he can stop at any time, iinds himself in a few years a galley-slave, clanking his chains about him, manacled to such a degree that he has no power or control oyer himself. One of the most effective causes in the speedy ruin of young men is bad company. "Keep gooa company," says George Herbert, "and you shall be of the number." At first the low jest, the oatlii the contempt of religion, make the hearer blush and tremble, lat huw before lie himself is using' the.ffnme laiigaage without a shudder? No one can be in company with the low and mean without becoming de­ graded by it. Choose those persons, young man, for your companions, who will elevate you, and keep you in a pure healthy atmosphere. It is surprising how much good goodness propagates. The best property a young man can have, and that which will pay him the honest interest, is character. "Char­ acter," says Smiles, " is the greatest of all possessions. It is an estate in the general good-will and respect of men; and they who invest in it--though they may not become rich ;in this world's good, will find their reward in esteem and reputation, fairly and honorably won." Robert Burns' father's advice was well chosen: He bade me act a manly part, though I had not a farthing. For without an honest, manly heart no man was worth regarding." ^ A young man of character always finds a position where he can earn his bread and butter. Young men of char­ acter are in great demand in all the callings of lire. When the shadows of evening gather about this great city, how many young men are seen wending their way to the gilded saloons, which are the destroy­ ers of youth, and many, who have lost the best part of their "lives theve, are crying out from the lowest depths of degradation, "Give mebackmy youth." Yes, and no, are little words; but they are the giants of life." Our weal or woe depends upon which one we use at every turn we take. Maeiy of these young men would not have moth­ er know where they were for the world --they are ashamed of their associa­ tions themselves, but the fascination of sin is strong; they tnink they can break off at any time from these allur­ ing snares. But how they deceive themselves! Lost--lost! lost! how soon this word becomes branded upon their foreheads. Young men are the pride of the mother's heart, the strength of the father's declining years--the bono and sinew of our Nation. We eannot afford to lose them in the gilded sa­ loons of sin. A very touching incident came to my notice not leng ago. I met with an old friend whom I had not seen for years. On inquiring for a little curly- headed, bright-eyed boy, who used be at her side in the days gone by, ihe burst into tears, and, with an expres­ sion I shall never forget, she said, ** Oh, I have lost my boy--I have lost my boy !" Was he dead? Oh, no; bet­ ter far if he had died when a little child and gone to Heaven from his mother's »w»s a pure, innocent, childish saiul. He had lived to break that mother's heart, rob; her . of all happiness and peace of old age. Her hair had be­ come white, her step unsteady and her spirit had Joet its former elasticity and brightness. That boy left the thresh­ old of Me mother's home to take a clerkship- in a distant city. He left with a free heart, his mother's loving •"kiss" upon Ms Rp, her word of cotmsei in his heart, and her gift--the Bible--- for his guide aloog the path- of life, in his pocket. Brut, step by step, dwr wandered »way from all those, good in­ fluences uatti he became, in a few years, the lowest of the low. Friends^ pleaded with- him, Ms mothers letters came often fril of I&re and good coun­ sel, but he heeded them not. Evil companions were h» associates- and counselors. fo>day he is a wanderer, hiding from justice arwl lost to all wh<> once loved himt,. and who tried tie-lead him back to the paths:t>f right and du­ ty. I have sein that mother,, when the twilight came; go* alone t©' her room, ana I knew she went to pray for that lost boy. Pterhaps her praters will be answered, and he will yet; be- broughlHbackj but his youth wilt never return again. It is- lost forever. " Not many lives, but only one have we, One, only one; How sacred should that? one life ever ber That narrow span! Day after day filled up with blessed toil- Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil," --Mrs. 8. T. Perryr in, Chicago ard. The Yalue of Yonr Religion -to too- I BEARD the other day of a congrega­ tion that could not support a minister. They had one, but he was mainly kept by the Union--the County Union. An attempt was made to increase his sala­ ry, and a gentleman went round with a paper for that purpose. Having ob­ served a poor-looking man who attend­ ed the place a couple of Sundays, he- thought to himself, " Well, he is one. and a very little will help. 1 will call on him, and ask him for something to­ ward the minister'8 support." Ho went to him, and he said: " You know our minister has been mainly supported by the County Association. We ought to be doing a little more; what will yow gire?" " Well," said he, " our minis­ ter must be supported," and' then he took his pencil and wrote £10 opposite his name. The _ gentleman collecting,, said, "That is a very handsome contribution for you. I think you must mean 10s.1* "Ten shillings!" said the man;, "do you think that the spiritual benefit and comfort that a man gets from such a minister as oiirs through a year is only worth 10s? I reckon it to-be worth a great deal more than £10, and I only ope that it will be accepted as a com­ position for what I owe, for really I eannot afford to give more." Well, the good man who was collectings said to himself: " If this man can afford to> give £10, I can afford to give £26;" but he had never given more than 10s> himself. At Ihe public meeting that was held he mentioned this circum­ stance, and the principle seemed to> be­ taken up as a really good one, so that they never had need to apply to the Secretary of the Association any more for help.» Nor should - people do so. When a man pulls out his sixpence and gives that whdb he is laying by thou­ sands of pounds, I can only consider that he forms a pretty accurate meas­ urement Of the value of his religion. I have heard of a man who fell into the river; another man pulled him out and saved his life, and he put his hands in his pocket and gave him. a fourpenny piece. " No, thank you sir," said the man, " I do not wish to take it. I see you have a very clear idea of the value of your own life." It is fair to judge of .the value" a n.an upon Moc./B , ir/IVGovtal'IT?tetO?ts by tho propt>vt|<>-ixLf»f-• his oit. •l'5gM,-$o-:gLivSF% thereto.; HowrSQiiie.. people-, will get to Heaven at all who talk so much about Christianity, and find so much fault with other people, and yet. when they die, leave hundreds of thousands of pounds, I cannot understand. I do mean it when I sing, " Now for the love I bear His same. What was my gain I coantmy and when I go on to sing, " I love my God with zeal so great, That I could give Him all," . I do mean it. And I should be ashamed of myself if I did not mean it; but I do not understand how they can be sincere in the use of such language, who, nev­ ertheless, contribute but a trifle, and seem to think they have done a great deal when they have given that.-- Spurgeoti. _____________ FALL-SEEDING TO TIMOTHY.--The marked success which has attended the seeding of timothy ia the fall is mak­ ing that the favorite season for sowing meadovite. Some, however, make a mistake bv not making the ground as rich as possible. We should prefer to manure heavily, plant to early pota­ toes and dig them early in September. Then, by plowing the ground well, and sowing and rolling at once, we should, in favorable seasons, have a meadow that would vield a ton and a half of hay the first season. Where manure is not attainable, oat-stubble may be turned under with good results. Should the gsass grow too large before freez­ ing, Vi may be slightly pastured; but too laucli will do it injury.--Cor. Chi­ cago* Tribune. COFFEE.--A writer in the Country says he enjoyed 44 the gentle stimulant" in almost every coffee-growing country; and never met with it in such ^complete, perfection as in the mountains of Sa« Domingo, made by the natives. Thoy take the fresh berries and parch them for a few minutes, then crush them in a mortar, and for each person put a tablespoonful of the fragrant fragments into a eonical-shaped bag; th* exact number of coffee cup-fulls of boiling water is measured out and poured twice through the bag. This completes the process^, and the result is--nectar. --All a mosquito wants is one bite-- just one.