the residue of existence seems composed of mere shreds of what it had been. The lucid interval ceases to cheer the vacant air, and torpid indifference inevitably prevails. drunkenness! thou poison of society, what a hydra-headed monster art thou! Like a pestilence thou walkest among the children of men, and ruin follows with fatal precision in the track of thy footsteps. Home, sweet home! to what dost thou convert it? The smile of dear and virtuous woman, the prattle of childhood, the caress of artless infancy, those touching endearments that come over the untainted mind like the first rays of morning, form thy deadliest instruments of vengeance. Thou makest the family hearth gloomy and desolate. The abode of cheerfulness and peace thou turnest into a house of mourning. Insatiable fiend-virtue, happiness, fame, and health are sacrificed upon thy brutal altar! The welfare of all the heart yearns over is given up for thee. Thou burstest asunder the ties of wedlock, paternity, and friendship; and over the image of defaced humanity thou carvest out thine own hideous likeness; and alas! misery, shame beggary, and disease, blasted hopes and a ruined family, compose the ingredients of that mortal cup which thy besotted followers drink to their destruction!

"BETTER TAKE A SHEEP, TOO."

A valued friend and able farmer, about the time the temperance reform was beginning to exert a healthful influence, said to his newly-hired

man:

"Jonathan, I did not think to mention to you when I hired you that I shall try to have my work done this year without rum. How much must I give you to do without?

"Oh,,' said Jonathan, "I don't

care much about it; you may give me what you please."

"Well," said the farmer, "I will give you a sheep in the fall if you do without rum."

"Agreed."

"Father, will you give me a sheep too, if I do without rum?" then asked the elder son.

"Yes, you shall have a sheep if you do without."

The yougest son then said, "Father, will you give me a sheep if I will do without."

"Yes, Chandler, you shall have a sheep also."

Presently Chandler speaks again: "Father, hadn't you better take a sheep, too?"

The farmer shook his head; he hardly thought that he could give up the stimulant, but the appeal came from a source not easily disregarded; and the result was, the demon rum was thenceforth banished from the premises, to the great joy and ultimate happiness of all concerned.

ADULTERATION OF BEER.

Those who will drink beer ought to know, at least, what they are very likely to imbibe in their anxiety for a tonic to brace them up, or for the draught that cheers if it do not strengthen. This is the kind of encouragement to the practice that The Manufacturer and Builder gives:

"The amount of cocculus Indicus now imported every year into England is sufficient for the adulteration of three fifths of all the beer consumed. There is no other known use for the poisonous drug; it is utterly useless, and never employed in medicire, and is equally useless and unemployed in the arts. Nevertheless, while the quantity imported in 1857 amounted to 68 cwt., it amounted in 1868 to 1064 cwt. It may also be

To this

stated that the use of cocculus Indicus to give a fictitious strength to beer is not by any means confined to England. According to a statement of Professor Dragendorff, formerly chemist to the St. Petersburg police, picrotoxine, the active principle of cocculus Indicus as explained above, is largely used for adulterating beer in Russia, and it is a frequent occurrence that brewers are fined on this account and the beer confiscated. Schubert, of Wurzburg, also states that Bavarian beer is often adulterated with cocculus Indicus. we may add, that whenever lagerbeer in this country is found to be intensely bitter, chiefly in the taste left in the mouth afterward, it is open to the suspicion of being adulterated. It should be kept in view, that beer may be mixed with more than half its bulk with water, and if then a comparatively trifling amount of the extract of the cocculus is added, it will give more hop-like bitterness and intoxicating qualities to the beer than it had before the adulteration; the only precaution being not to disturb its foaming property, as the presence of the carbonic acid, the development of which constitutes the foaming, gives it the pleasant, pungent taste -its its absence making all kinds of beer flat at once."

WINE AND SILENCE. We marvel that so many professedly Christian men and women can stand idle spectators of the ruin which is being wrought in human society by the use of intoxicating liquors. The elevavation and improvement of heathen in distant lands they regard as possible, and will aid you in sending missionaries to them with the blessed Gospel. The blind, the deaf, and the dumb they will help you to instruct and benefit; even the insane they are not ready to abondon; but

for the vast multitude who are working their own ruin, afflicting their friends, and burdening and cursing society by their habits of drink, they have no money and will put forth no effort. Why is it thus? The secret we fear, is to be found in the fact that effective efforts to lessen the amount of intemperance demand, on the score of consistency, the practice of abstinence on the part of those making such efforts. Thousands of professing Christians are not ready to adopt the principle and practice of abstinence as a means of acquiring influence and ability to save others from the perils and ruin of drinking habits, and they well know that while they personally indulge in a glass of wine or ale, neither their example or words can be instrumental in saving others, and therefore they are silent on the subject, and do nothing. The earnest protest against existing iniquity, which is often ready to find exit through their vocal organs, is choked down by their glass of wine. How they can reconcile such a course with any just sense of Christian obligation is a mystery we have not been able to solve.

HOW TO BE A "NOBODY."-It is easy to be a nobody, and the Watchman tells how to do it. Go to the drinking saloon to spend your leisure time. You need not drink much now, just a little beer or some other drink. In the meantime, play dominoes, checkers, or someshing else to kill time, so that you will be sure not to read any useful books. If you read anything let it be the dime novel of the day; thus go on keeping your stomach full and your head empty, and yourself playing time-killing games, and in a few years you will be nobody.

A MAN should keep his friendship in constant repair.

THE BOYS WE NEED.

Here's to the boy who's not afraid
To do his share of work;
Who never is by toil dismayed,
And never tries to shirk.

The boy whose heart is brave to meet
All lions in the way;
Who's not discouraged by defeat,
But tries another day.

The boy who always means to do
The very best he can;
Who always keeps the right in view,
And aims to be a man.

Such boys as those will grow to be
The men whose hands will guide
The future of our land; and we

Shall speak their names with pride.
All honor to the boy who is
A man at heart, I say;
Whose legend on his shield is this:
"Right always wins the day."
-Golden Days.

CHRIST'S BLESSING FOR CHILDREN!

"Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not;" said our dear Saviour, as he took little chil

If sorrow and trial come to your young hearts, remember that Christ's blessing rests upon you, and that in his arms you will find joy and peace. If temptation allures you, think of the words of the "Beautiful One," "Suffer little children to come unto me;" let them find an echo in your hearts; go, learn of him; lean your weary, blessing-crowned heads on his loving bosom; ask for his guidance, and he will help you to overcome the tempter, as he did, and bring sweet peace to your souls.

Strive at all times to imitate the examples of Jesus. Be like him, meek and lowly, kind and loving, gentle

and forgiving. Then will his blessing be indeed to you a crown of glory, ever shedding around life's pathway a halo of blessedness and peace.

HALEY MAY.

SOWING LITTLE SEEDS.

Little Bessie bad got a present of a new book, and she eargerly opened it to look at the first picture of a girl standing by the side of a stream, and throwing seeds into the water. "I wonder what this picture is about," said she; "why does that girl throw the seeds into the water?"

"O, I know," said her brother Edward, who had been looking at the book; "She is sowing the seeds of water-lilies."

"But how small the seeds look!" said Bessie, "It seems strange that such large plants should grow out of such little things."

"You are sowing such tiny seed every day, Bessie, and they will come up large strong plants, after a while,"

said her father.

ful flowers, Bessie. But I hope my little girl has been planting the great tree of love to God,' and that she will tend and watch it until its branches reach the skies and meet before His throne."-Irish Evangelist.

STORY OF JENNY WREN.

Did you ever hear the story of Jenny Wren, young folks? I don't mean the Cock Robin story which everybody knows, but the one that tells how little Mistress Wren saved an army. The cackling of geese saved Rome by arousing the sleepy sentinel. How Jenny Wren performed her exploit I will now relate.

A long time ago, this is the way all stories begin, King James the Second of England was driven from his throne and his son-in-law, Prince William of Orange, came over from Holland to reign in his stead. Very naturally, King James was not satisfied with the state of affairs, and, as all the students of history in our country know, set himself to recover his kingdom. So in the spring of 1690 he went to Ireland, where he raised an army. Prince William came over from England to withstand him. Their two armies drew near each other on the banks of the river Boyne. It was the 1st of July, a warm day. The men belonging to one of William's outposts fell asleep. Among them was a little drummer boy who, feeling hungry, ate his rations before taking his nap. Jenny Wren came hopping around in search of crumbs; spying some on the drum-head, she flew up on that. The noise her beak and feet made upon the parchment. startled the drummer boy out of his sleep.

open

The moment his eyes were he saw the enemy creeping cautiously toward the post. At once he sounded the alarm; the sleepers sprang to their feet, the battle began,

Jenny Wren flew away, and never a "Thank you," that I knew of, followed after her.

This is the story of Jenny Wren. Whether the little bird flew clear of, the fight and so escaped unhurt, no one took the trouble to see. We will wish her the best of fates.

GOD'S SPARROWS.

A Christian woman was visiting among the poor in London one cold winter's day. She was trying to open the door of a third story in a wretched looking house, when she heard a little voice inside say, "Pull the string up high." She looked up and saw a string. She pulled it, when it lifted the latch; and the door opened into a room where she found two little halfnaked children all alone. They looked cold and hungry.

"Do you take care of yourselves, little ones?" asked the woman.

"No, ma'am: God takes care of us," replied the elder of the two children. "You have no fire on this cold day. Are you very cold?”

“Oh, when we are very cold, we creep under the quilt, and I put my arms around Tommy, and he puts his arms around me, and then we say, 6 Now I lay me down to sleep, I'll sing my Maker's praise,' and then we get warm," said the little girl.

"And what do you eat, pray?" asked the visitor.

"When granny comes home, she brings us something. Granny says we are God's sparrows, and he has enough for us; and so we say 'Our Father' and 'daily bread' every day. God is our Father."-Faithful Wit

ness.

DON'T GIVE UP, BUT TRY.

A gentleman traveling in the northern part of Ireland heard the voices of children, and stopped to listen.

Finding the sound came from a

small building used as a school-house, he went in, and listened to the words the boys were spelling.

One little fellow stood apart looking very sad.

Why does that boy stand there?" asked the gentleman.

"Oh, he's good for nothing!" replied the teacher. "There's nothing in him. I can make nothing of him. He is the most stupid boy in school."

The gentleman was surprised at this answer. He saw that the teacher was so stern and rough, that the younger and more timid were nearly crushed. After a few words to them, placing his hands on the noble brow of the little fellow who stood apart, he said

"One of these days you may be a fine scholar; don't give up, try, my boy, try."

The boy's soul was aroused. His sleeping mind awoke. A new pur

pose was formed. From that hour he became anxions to excel. And he did become a fine scholar, and the author of a well-known commentary on the Bible; a great and good man, beloved and honored. It was Dr. Adam Clarke.

The secret of his success is worth

knowing: "Don't give up; but try, my boy."

CARRYING THE TURKEY HOME.

Chief Justice Marshall was a great man; but great men are never proud. He was not too proud to wait upon himself at all times. He was in the habit of going to market himself and carrying home his purchases. Often would he be seen going home at sunrise, with poultry in one hand and vegetables in the other.

On one of these occassions, a fashionable young man from the North, who had removed to Richmond, was swearing violently because he could find no one to carry home his tur