SIEGE OF LUCKNOW.

REV. DR. TALMAGE RELATES THRILLING DEEDS OF HEROISM.

Accompanied by a Soldier Who Survived That Awful Ordeal, the Eminent Divine Recalls the Terrible Sepoy Rebellion--A Great General and Devout Christian.

BROOKLYN, Nov. 25.--Rev. Dr. Talmage today began his scries of round the world sermons through the press, the first subject selected being Lucknow, India. The text c hosen was Deuteronomy xx, 19, "When thou shalt besiege a city a long time in making war against it to take it, thou shalt not destroy the trees thereof by forcing an

ax against them."

The awfulest thing in war is besiegement, for to the work of deadly weapons it adds hunger and starvation and plague. Besiegement is sometimes neccessary but my text commands mercy even in that. The fruit trees must be spared because they afford food for man. "Thou shalt not destroy the trees there-

of by forcing an ax against them." But in my recent journey round the world, I found at Lucknow, India, the remains of the most merciless besiegement of the ages, and I proceed to tell you that

story for four great reasons--to show you what a horrid thing war is and to make you all advocates for peace, to show you what genuine Christian character is under bombardment, to put a coronation on Christian courage, and to show you how splendidly good people die. As our train glided into the dimly lighted station I asked the guard, "Is this Lucknow?" and he answered, "Lucknow," at the pronunciation of which proper name strong emotions rushed through body, mind and soul.

An Eyewitness. The word is a synonym of suffering, of cruelty, of heroism, of horror such as is suggested by hardly any other word. We have for 35 years been reading of the agonies there endured and the daring deeds there witnessed. It was my great desire to have some one who had witnessed the scenes transacted in Lucknow in 1857 conduct us over the place. We found just the man. He was a young soldier at the time the greatest mutiny of the ages broke out, and he was put with others inside the residency, which was a cluster of buildings markings a fortress in which the representatives of the English government lived and

which was to be the scene of an endurance and a bombardment the story of which poetry and painting and history and secular and sacred eloquence have been trying to depict. Our escort not only had a good memory of what had happened, but had talent enough to rehearse the tragedy.

In the early part of 1857 all over India the natives were ready to break out in rebellion against all foreigners and especially against the civil and military representatives of the English government. A half dozen causes are mentioned for the feeling of discontent and insurrection that was evidenced throughout India. The most of these causes were mere pretexts. Greased cartridges were no doubt an exasperation. The grease ordered by the English government to be used on these cartridges was taken from cows or pigs, and grease to the Hindoos is unclean, and to bite these cartridges at the loading of the guns would be an

offense to the Hindoo's religion. The leaders of the Hindoos said that these

greased cartridges were only part of an attempt by the English government to make the natives give up their religion; hence unbounded indignation was aroused.

Another cause of the mutiny was that another large province of India had been annexed to the British empire, and thousands of officials in the employ of the king of that province were thrown out of position, and they were all ready for trouble making.

Another cause was said to be the bad government exercised by some English officials in India.

The simple fact was that the natives of India were a conquered race, and the English were the conquerors. For 100 years the British scepter had been waved over India, and the Indians wanted to break that scepter. There never had been any love or sympathy between the natives of India and the Europeans. There is none now. Before the time of the great mutiny the English government risked much power in the hands of the natives. Too many of them manned the forts. Too many of them were in governmental employ. And now the time had come for a wide outbreak. The natives had persuaded themselves that they could send the English government flying, and to accomplish it dagger and sword and firearms and mutilation and slaughter must do their worst.

Horrors of the Siege. It was evident in Lucknow that the natives were about to rise and put to death all the Europeans they could lay their hands on, and into the residency the Christian population of Lucknow hastened for defense from the tigers in human form which were growling for their victims. The occupants of the residency, or fort, were--military and non combatants, men, women and children in number about 1,692. I suggest in one sentence some of the chief woes to which they were subjected, when I say that these people were in the residency five months without a single change of clothing; some of the time the heat at 120 and 130 degrees; the place black with flies and all a-squirm with vermin; firing of the enemy upon them ceasing neither day nor night; the hospital crowded with the dying; smallpox, scurvy, cholera, adding their work to that of shot and shell; women brought up in all comfort and never having known want crowded and sacrificed in a cellar where nine children were born; less and less food; no water except that which was brought from a well under the enemy's fire, so that the water obtained was at the price of [?]; the stench of the dead horses added to the effluvia of corpses, and all waiting for the moment when the army of 60,000 shrieking Hindoo devils should break in upon the garrison of the residency, now reduced by wounds and sickness and death to 976 men, women and children. "Call me early," I said, "tomorrow morning, and let us be at the residency before the sun becomes too hot." At 7 o'clock in the morning we left our hotel in Lucknow, and I said to our obliging, gentlemanly escort, "Please take us along the road by which Havelock and Outrum came to the [?] of the residency." That was the way we went. There was a solemn stillness as we approached the gate of the residency. Battered and torn is the masonry of the entrance. Signature of shot and punctuation of cannon ball all up and down and everywhere. "Here to the left," said our escort, "are the remains of a building the first floor of which in other days had been used as a banqueting hall, but then was used as a hospital. At this part the amputations took place, and all such patients died. The heat was so great and the food so insufficient that the poor fellows could not recover from the loss of blood. They all died. Amputations were performed without chloroform. All the anaesthetics were exhausted. A fracture that in other circumstances would have come to easy convalescence here proved fatal. Yonder was Dr. Fayrer's house, who was surgeon of the place and is now Queen Victoria's doctor. This upper room was the officers' room, and there Sir Henry Lawrence, our dear commander, was wounded. While he sat there a shell struck the room, and some one suggested that he had better leave the room, but he smiled and said, "Lightning never strikes twice in the same place." Hardly had he said this when another shell tore off his thigh,

and he was carried dying into Dr. Fayrer's house on the other side of the road.

Sir Henry Lawrence had been in poor health for a long time before the mutiny. He had been in the Indian service for years, and he had started for England to recover his health, but getting as far as Bombay the English government requested him to remain at least awhile, for he could not be spared in such dangerous times. He came here to

Lucknow, and foreseeing the siege of this residency had filled many of the rooms with grain, without which the residency would have been obliged to surrender. There were also taken by

him into this residency rice and sugar and charcoal and fodder for the oxen and hay for the horses. But now, at the time when all the people were looking to him for wisdom and courage,

Sir Henry is dying.

Our escort describes the scene, unique, tender, beautiful and overpowering, and while I stood on the very spot where the sighs and groans of the besieged and lacerated and broken hearted met the whiz of bullets, and the demoniac hiss of bursting shell, and the roar of

batteries, my escort gave me the partic-

ulars.

Tried to Do His Duty.

"As soon as Sir Henry was told that her had not many hours to live he asked the chaplain to administer to him the holy communion. He felt particularly anxious for the safety of the woman in the residency, who, at any moment, might be subjected to the savages who howled around the residency, their breaking in only a matter of time unless re-enforcements should come. He would frequently say to those who surrounded his death couch: 'Save the ladies. God help the poor women and children!' He gave directions for the desperate defense of the place. He asked forgiveness of all those whom he might unintentionally have neglected or offended. He left a message for all his friends. He forgot not to give direction for the care of his favorite horse. He charged the officers, saying: 'By no

means surrender. Make no treaty or

compromise with the desperadoes. Die fighting.' He took charge of the asylum he had established for the children of soldiers. He gave directions for his burial, saying: 'No nonsense, no fuss. Let me be buried with the men.' He dictated his own epitaph, which I read above his tomb: 'Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty. May the Lord have mercy on his soul.' He said: 'I would like to have a passage of Scripture added to the words on my

grave, such as, "To the Lord our God belong mercies and forgivenesses, though we have rebelled against him." Isn't it from Daniel?' So as brave a man as England or India ever saw expired. The soldiers lifted the cover from his face and kissed him before they carried him out. The chaplain offered a prayer. Then they removed the great hero amid the rattling hail of the guns and put him down among other soldiers buried at the same time." All of which I state for the benefit of those who would have us believe that the Christian religion is fit only for women in the eighties and children under 7. There was glory enough in that departure to halo Christendom.

Water at a Life's Risk.

"There," said our escort, "Bob the Nailer did the work." "Who was Bob the Nailer?" "Oh, he was the African who sat at that point, and when any one of our men ventured across the road he would drop him by a rifle ball. Bob was a sure marksman. The only way to get across the road for water from the well was to wait until his gun flashed and then instantly cross before he had time to load. The only way we could get rid of him was by digging a mine under the house where he was hidden. When the house was blown up, Bob the Nailer went with it." I said to him, "Had you made up your minds what you and the other sufferers would do in case the fiends actually broke in?" "Oh, yes!" said my escort. "We had it all planned, for the probability was every house for nearly five months that they would break in. You must remember it was 1,600 against 60,000, and for the latter part of the time it was 900 against 60,000, and the residency and the earthworks around it were not put up for such an attack. It was only

from the mercy of God that we were not massacred soon after the besiegement. We were resolved not to allow

ourselves to get into the hands of those desperadoes. You must remember that we and all the women had heard of the butchery at Cawnpur, and we knew what defeat meant. If unable to hold out any longer, we would have blown ourselves up and all gone out of life to-

gether."

"Show me," I said, "the rooms where the women and children staid during those awful months." Then we [?] over and went down into the cellar of the residency. With a shudder of horror indescribable I entered the cellar where the women and children had been crowded until the whole floor was full. I know the exact number, for I counted their names on the roll. As one of the ladies wrote in her diary--speaking of those women she said, "They lay upon the floor fitting into each other like bits in a [?]." Wives had obtained from their husbands the promise that the husbands would shoot them rather than let them fall into the hands of those desperadoes. The women within the residency were kept on the smallest allowance that would maintain life. No opportunity of privacy. The death angel and the birth angel touched wings as they passed. Flies, mosquitoes, vermin in full possession of the place, and those women in momentary expectation that the enraged savages would rush upon them, in a violence of which club and sword and torch and throat cutting would be the milder forms.

Our escort told us again and again of the bravery of these women. They did not despair. They encouraged the soldiery. They waited on the wounded and dying in the hospital. They gave up their stockings for holders of the grapeshot. They solaced each other when their children died. When a husband or father fell, such prayers of sympathy were offered as only women can offer. They endured without complaint. They prepared their own children for burial. They were inspiration for the men who stood at their posts fighting till they dropped.

The Guns of Relief. Our escort told us that again and again news had come that Havelock and Outram were on the way to fetch these besieged ones out of their wretchedness. They had received a letter from Havelock rolled up in a quill and carried in the mouth of a disguised messenger, a letter telling them he was on the way, but the next news was that Havelock had been compelled to retreat. It was constant vacillation between hope and despair. But one day they heard the guns of relief sounding nearer and nearer. Yet all the houses of Lucknow were fortresses filled with armed miscreants, and every step of Havelock and his army was con-tested--firing from housetops, firing from windows, firing from doorways. I asked our friend if he thought that the world famous story of a Scotch lass in her delirium hearing the Scotch bagpipes advancing with the Scotch regiment was a true story. He said he did not know but that is [sic] was true. Without this man's telling me I knew from my own observation that delirium sometimes quickens some of the faculties, and I rather think the Scotch lass in her delirium was the first to hear the bagpipes. I decline to believe that class of people who would like to kill all the poetry of the world and banish all the fine sentiment. They tell us that Whittier's poem about Barbara Freitchie was founded on a delusion, and that Longfellow's poems immortalized things that never occurred. The Scotch lass did hear the slogan. I almost heard it myself as I stood inside the residency while my escort told of the coming on of the Seventy-eighth highland regiment. "Were you present when Havelock came in?" I asked, for I could suppress the question no longer. His answer came: "I was not at the moment present, but with some other young fellows I saw soldiers dancing while two highland pipers played, and I said, 'What is all this excitement?' Then we came up and saw that Havelock was in, and Outram was in, and the regiments were pouring

in."

"Show us where they came in," I exclaimed, for I knew that they did not enter through the gate of the residency, that being banked up inside to keep the

murderers out. "Here it is," answered

my escort. "Here it is--the embrasure

through which they came."

We walked up to the spot. It is now a broken down pile of bricks a dozen yards from the gate. Long grass now, but then a blood spattered, bullet scar-

red opening in the wall.

As we stood there, although the scene was 37 years ago, I saw them come in --Havelock pale and sick, but triumphant, and Outram, whom all the equestrian statues in Calcutta and Europe

cannot too grandly present.

Deliverance at Last. "What then happened?" I said to my escort. "Oh," he said, "that is impossible to tell. The earth was removed from the gate, and soon all the army of relief entered, and some of us laughed, and some cried, and some prayed, and some danced. Highlanders so dust covered and enough blood and wounds on their faces to make them unrecognizable snatched the babes out of their mothers' arms and kissed them and

passed the babies along for other soldiers to kiss, and the wounded men

crawled out of the hospital to join in the cheering, and it was wild jubilee until, the first excitement passed, the story of how many of the advancing army had been slain on the way began to have tearful effect, and the story of suffering that had been endured inside the fort, and the announcement to children that they were fatherless, and to wives that they were widows, submerged the shouts of joy with wailing of agony. "But were you not embarrassed by the arrival of Havelock and 1,400 men who brought no food with them?" He answered: "Of course we were put on smaller rations immediately in order that they might share with us, but we knew that the coming of this re-enforce-ment would help us to hold the place until further relief should come. Had not this first belief arrived as it did in a day or two at most and perhaps in any hour the besiegers would have broken in, and our end would have come. The sepoys had dug six mines under the residency and would soon have exploded all." After we had obtained a few bullets that had been picked out of the wall and a piece of bombshell we walked around the eloquent ruins, and put our hands into the scars of the shattered masonry and explored the cemetery inside the fort, where hundreds of the dead soldiers await the coming of the Lord of Hosts at the last day, and we could endure no more. My nerves were all a-tremble, and my emotions were wrung out, and I said, "Let us go." I had seen the residency at Lucknow, the day before with a beloved missionary and he told me many interesting facts concerning the besiegement of that place but this morning I had seen it in company with one who in that awful 1857 of the Indian mutiny with his own fire had fought the besiegers, and with his own ear had heard the yell of the miscreants as they tried to storm the walls, and with his own eyes had witnessed the scenes of pang and sacrifice and endurance and bereavement and prowess and rescue which has made all this Lucknow fortress and its surroundings the Mount Calvary of the nineteenth century. Honors For the Hero. On the following day, about four miles from the residency, I visited the grave of Havelock. The scenes of hardship and self sacrifice through which he had passed were too much for mortal endurance, and a few days after Havelock left the residency which he had relieved he lay in a tent a-dying, while his son, whom I saw in London on my way here, was reading to the old hero the consolatory Scriptures. The telegraph wires had told all nations that Havelock was sick until death. He had received the message of congratulation from Queen Victoria over his triumph and had been knighted, and such a reception as England never gave to any man since Wellington came back from Waterloo awaited his return. But he will never again see his native land.

He has led his last army and planned the last battle. Yet he is to gain another victory. He declared it when his last hours he said to General Outram: "I die happy and contented. I have for 10 years so ruled my life that when death came I might face it without fear. To die is gain." Indeed this was no non-sentimentality with him. He once stated that in boyhood with four companions

he was accustomed to seek the "seclusion of one of the dormitories for purposes of devotion, though certain in those days of being branded as Methodists and canting hypocrites." He had in early life been immersed in a Baptist church. He acknowledged God in every

victory and says in one of his dispatches that he owes it "to the power of the Enfield rifle in British hands, to British pluck and to the blessing of Almighty God on a most righteous cause." HE was accustomed to spend two hours ev-

ery morning in prayer and Bible read-

ing, and if the army was to march at 8 o'clock he arose for purposes of religious devotion at 6 o'clock, and if the army was to march at 6 o'clock he arose at 4. Sir Henry Havelock, the son in whose arms the father died, when I came through London invited three of

the heroes of Lucknow to meet me at

his table and told me concerning his

father some most inspiring and Chris-

tian things. He said: "My father knew

not what fear was. He would say to me

in the morning as he came out of his tent, 'Harry, have you read the book?'

'Yes.' 'Have you said your prayers?'

'Yes.' 'Have you had your breakfast?'

'Yes.' 'Come, then, and let us mount

and go out to be shot at and die like gentlemen.'" The three other heroes of Lucknow at that table told of General Havelock other things just as stirring. What a speech that was Havelock made to his soldiers as he started for Cawnpur, India: "Over 260 of our race are still alive in Cawnpur. With God's help we will save them from death. I am trying you severely, my men, but I know what you are made of." The enthusiasm of his men was well suggested by the soldier lying asleep, and, Havelock riding along, his horse stumbled over the soldier and woke him, and the soldier recognizing the general cried out cheerily: "Make room for the general! God bless the general!" Havelock's Grave. A plain monument marks Havelock's grave, but the epitaph is as beautiful

and comprehensive as anything I have ever seen, and I copied it then and

there, and it is as follows: "Here rest

the mortal remains of Henry Havelock,

major general in the British army and Knight Commander of the [?], who died at Dilkoesha Lucknow of dysentery produced by the hardships of a campaign in which he achieved immortal fame, on the 24th of November, 1877. He was born on the 5th of April, 1795, at Bishops, Wermouth county, Durham, England. Entered the army in 1815. Came to India 1823 and served there with little interruption till his death. He bore an honorable part in the war of Burma, Afghanistan, the [?] campaign of 1843 and the [?] of [?]. Retained by adverse circumstances in subordinate position, it was the aim of his life to show that the profession of a Christian is consistent with the [?] discharge of the duties of a soldier. He commanded a division in the Persian expedition of 1857. In the terrible convulsion of that year his genius and character were at length fully developed and known to the world. Saved from shipwreck on the Ceylon coast by that providence which designed him

for greater things, he was nominated to

the command of the [?] to relieve the brave garrison at Lucknow. This objet, after almost superhuman exertion, he, by the blessing of God, accomplished. But he was not spared to receive on earth the reward he so dearly

earned. The Divine Master whom he

served saw fit to remove him from the

sphere of his labor in the moment of his greatest triumphs. He departed to his rest in humble but confident expectation

of far greater rewards and honors

which a grateful country was anxious to bestow. In him the skill of a commander, the courage and devotion of a soldier, the learning of a scholar, the grace of a highly bred gentleman and

all the social and domestic virtues of a husband, father and friend were blend-

ed together, and strengthened, [?]- nized and adorned by the spirit of a true Christian, the result of the influence of the Holy Spirit on his heart, and of an humble reliance on the merits of a crucified Saviour. II Timothy iv, 7, 8: "I have fought a good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day, and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing." This monument is erected by his sorrowing widow and family."

England Careless. Is not that magnificent? But I said, while standing at Havelock's grave, Why does not England take his rest to herself, and in Westminster abbey make him a pillow? In all her history of wars there, is no name so patriotic, yet she has expressed nothing on this man's tomb. His widow reared the tombstone. Do you say, "Let him sleep in the region where he did his grandest deeds?" The same reason would have buried Wellington in Belgium and Von Moltke at Versailles, and Grant at Vicksburg and Stonewall Jackson far away from his beloved Lexington, Va. Take him home, O England! The rescuer of the men, women and children at Lucknow! His ear now dulled could not hear the roll of the organ when it sounds through the venerable abbey the national anthem. But it would in the same triumph that brings [?] among these sacred walls the form of Outram, his fellow hero in the [?] of the Indian mutiny. Let parliament make appropriation from the national treasury, and some great war ship under [?] favorite admiral sail across Mediterranean and Arabian seas, and wait at Bombay harbor for the coming of this conqueror of conquerors and then, saluted by the shipping of all free nations, let him pass on and pass up and come under the arches of the abbey and along the aisles where have been carried the mightiest dead of many centuries.

Some audiences and some readers are so slow of thought and so stupid that they need an application made of every subject. But the people who get this sermon have made the application for themselves already. I challenge you to say whether or not I have kept my promise when in the opening of this discourse I said I would show you four things--what an awful affair war is, what genuine Christian character is under bombardment, what is the coronation of Christian courage and how splendidly good people die. And here endeth my first sermon of the round the world series.

AFTER THEIR MONEY'S WORTH. What Those American Travelers Saw In a Parisian Opera House. American travelers abroad come upon many sights and customs that are strange to their American senses. Here is an incident of an opening night at the Chatelet theater, Paris, that will not soon be forgotten by a certain party of there [sic] New Yorkers who witnessed it. The presentation was Berlioz's "Faust," in accordance with popular request. It had been given in the closing spring nights, and in the fall was put on again, with the same artists in the various roles. Certain numbers--notably "Marche Hongroise" and Mephisto's song--had captivated Paris, and an overwhelming crowd was at the doors on the opening night to hear their favorites.

Now, there is a peculiar custom in vogue at the Chatelet for admitting and seating the audience. They enter in squads, and each squad must be seated before another can get in. Of course this is admirable when time is no object, but on this particular night the crowd was too great to be handled in this slow way. And the curtain went up, and the movement of the opera, under the direction of M. Cologne, proceeded when no more than two-thirds of the audience had been seated. In the first balcony sat three New Yorkers--a married couple with a young lady acquaintance. The opera proceeded over the heads of the moving, restless audience for an hour, when an ominous murmuring of voices began to make itself heard above the tones of the orchestra. It muttered, rolled, vibrated, grew and conveyed a feeling of danger from some unknown peril. The young American matron, nervous as American women are, took fright. "It is a fire," she whispered to her husband. "The theater is on fire. YOu must take me out quick, or we shall be crushed as well as burned."

But the husband was obdurate, and as the noise of voices increased in volume and angriness he turned to reassure his wife and her friend. "Be easy. It isn't a fire. This is going to be one of the sights of Paris, and I wouldn't miss it for a lot on Broadway." By this time the menacing attitude of the audience had forced itself upon the attention of M. Cologne. His musicians ceased playing; he looked at them imploringly, glared at the howling audience defiantly, rolled out a command crackling with r's, waved his baton and went on. Then the audience passed from fretful repining to offensive action. With a common impulse it swarmed forward, overran the orchestra, and some 40 men clambered upon the stage itself. They silenced the musicians, shouted, danced back and forth in an apparently uncontrollable rage, shook their fists under the noses of every one in authority and introduced a sudden and unwelcome element of anarchy into the evening's

spectacle.

"What is the matter? Can you make

out what they're saying?" the young

lady asked.

"Why, yes," the escort replied. "They couldn't get into the theater in season to hear the favorite numbers,

and they feel cheated. This is the popular Parisian expression of outraged

feelings."

"But what are they going to do about it?" asked his wife. "Will they tear the house down? Do let us go away at once." "No, they'll hurt no one but M. Cologne, and not him if he does what they are demanding." "Whatever is that?" "As near as I can make out, it is to go back to the beginning and play the entire score again. That means an extra hour, and no wonder he objects." But the objection proved futile. After ten minutes of charges and countercharges, of negative shakes of the head and affirmative shakes of many fists, Mr. Cologne turned back the pages of his score and again raised his baton. The excited audience was calmed in a moment and became seated and attentive. The movement proceeded smoothly, triumphantly, with appreciative applause. Feelings of the most perfect harmony existed. And the Chatelet scored [?]. "Now, in New York," said the American as he took the two ladies to their hotel, "we wouldn't have done it so." "I should think not," said his wife in earnest patriotism. "No," he went on, "there we would have talked about our hard luck between the acts, and the next morning would have fought the thing all over in the newspapers. And we wouldn't have seen the opera either. It seems to me, my dear, that the French character has a feature or two which the American would do well to imitate." "Very well," said madam. "I'm glad I saw the opera twice over in one evening." Her very much obliged to those Frenchman. But, all the same, I'm quite content to be and remain American."--New York Times.

[?] Race Horses. A late invitation brought our [?] response to an impertinent demand, [?] above a [?]. In this sit two judges, [?] follow the horses, and [?] the better to obtain their [?] and keep track of the [?]. The [?]--New York Ledger.

[?] gave [?] balance [?].

AN UNFORTUNATE COIN. The Sorrowful History of the Souvenir Half Dollars. The order of Secretary Carlisle to use the Columbian souvenir silver coins as cash is the closing chapter in the history of an unsuccessful venture. In spite of the efforts of the promoters of the exposition to sell these half dollars at double their face value, with the general cooperation of the banks, the newspapers and a number of leading stores in Chicago, New York, Boston, Philadelphia and elsewhere, about 3,600,000 remain unsold and in hands of the treasury authorities. At first the Chicago people pleaded with Secretary Carlisle to hold the coins till they could raise a fund to redeem them at their double price in the hopes of saving the value of those already sold, which would be bound to decline as soon as the remaining coins were thrown into the ordinary channels of of trade. This was done, but the attempt was fruitless, and a few days ago the projectors of the scheme notified the secretary that they could not do anything, and that they would not ask him any longer to carry the lead of the unavailable silver. Mr. Carlisle shrewdly decided to do something which would make the coins pay for a part of the trouble and delay they had caused. So he ordered them paid out at par, but in exchange for gold coin. This would have the effect, he believed, of stimulating a few enterprising retail shopkeepers to buy up the lot and advertise that they would use them in making change for their customers. The treasury would by this means add a little gold to its balance, while at the same time the coins would probably be held as souvenirs by the customers, attracted by the advertisements, and thus would be prevented from passing into general circulation. The collapse of the souvenir coin fad recalls the fact that a syndicate was formed during the summer of 1893 for the taking and disposing of 100,000 of the half dollars. Some large jewelry houses were interested in the enterprise, which might have grown to larger proportions if any encouragement had been received. It seems that a leading American jeweler, while on a journey abroad, saw some of the British souvenir coins struck in honor of Queen Victoria's jubilee beautifully decorated with enamel and mounted as watch charms, brooches, etc. He took a number of Columbian half dollars to London with him last year and had them treated in the same way. One device was to cover all the body of the obverse of the coin with translucent enamel, leaving the head of Columbus and the inscription uncovered. In another the reverse side was treated, the caravel being colored on the field against which it was projected. No two designs were alike, and the coins were eagerly snapped up at $5, $8 and even $10 apiece by curiosity seekers. But no sooner waws the formal proposition made to take the 100,000 coins out of the custody of the treasury for the purpose mentioned than the secret service people pounced upon the interested parties and warned them that every coin thus treated and exposed for sale would be seized. No law against the mutilation of coins appeared to stand in the way, but the argument of Chief Drummond, as well as it could be understood, was that some evil minded person might scrape off the enamel from the decorated coins and pass them upon unsuspecting poor persons, who would then find themselves with a coin in their possession bearing on its face the value of 50 cents, but on account of its mutilation commanding in the market only its bullion value, which, with silver at its present deprecation, would be only a quarter of a dollar. The opposition of Chief Drummond, supported by Secretary Carlisle, broke up the plan.--Washington Star.

The Deepest Mine In France. The deepest coal mine in France (by some authorities said to be the deepest in the world) is at Audre du Poirier. The mine is worked with two shafts--one 2,952 feet deep and the other 3,083. The latter shaft is now being deepened and will reach the 4,000 foot level by July, 1895. The yearly product of this mine is 100,000 tons of coal. The remarkable feature of the mine is the comparatively low temperature, seldom rising above 75 degrees F.--Paris Journal. The Ex-Governors Retained. Cambridge and Waltham will go to the legislature to settle the matter of damages on account of the former's taking of land for a new water basin. The Cambridge water board and the Waltham street committee have held numerous conferences, but the matter of a settlement is as far off as ever. Cambridge has retained ex-Governors Long, Robinson and Russell and Sherman Hoar to look after her interests in the con-test.--Boston Transcript.

San Francisco Sorosis. Sorosis, a woman's club of San Francisco, is only a little over a year old, but it now takes its place as one of the leading women's organizations of that city. Members can only be admitted annually, and at the recent election of officers and business meeting there was so long a list of names to be considered that many had to be rejected because of the numerical limit of the club. Unless

this shall be increased a hopeless waiting list has been created.

The first [?] in the United States was [?] in Virginia in 1663.

JOHN BROWER, Painter and Glazier. DEALER IN Lewis Bros. Pure White Lead, Linseed Oil and Colors. First Quality Hard Oil and Varnishes. Roberts' Fire and Water Proof Paints. Pure Metallic Paints for Tin and Shingle Roofs (and no other should be used where rain water is caught for family use). All brands of Ready Mixed Paints. Window Glass of all kinds and patterns. Reference given. STORE ON ASBURY AVE OCEAN CITY N. J.

W. L. DOUGLAS $3 SHOE IS THE BEST. NO SQUEAKING. $5 CORDOVAN, FRENCH & ENAMELLED CALF. $4. $3.50 FINE CALF & KANGAROO. $3.50 POLICE, 3 SOLES. $2.50 $2. WORKINGMENS EXTRA FINE. $2. $1.25 BOYS' SCHOOL SHOES. LADIES $3. $2.50 $2. $1.75 BEST DONGOLA. SEND FOR CATALOGUE. W. L. DOUGLAS, BROCKTON, MASS. You can save money by purchasing W. L. Douglas Shoes, Because, we are the largest manufacturers of advertised shoes in the world, and guarantee the value by stamping the name and price on the bottom, which protects you against high prices and the middleman's profits. Our shoes equal custom work in style, easy fitting and wearing qualities. We have them sold everywhere at lower prices for the value given than any other make. Make no substitute. If your dealer cannot supply you, we can. Sold by

C. A. CAMPBELL.

GILBERT & LAKE, House and Sign Painters.

RESIDENCE:

450 West Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Jobbing promptly attended to. Estimates cheerfully given. Guarantee to do first-class work and use the best material. Orders left at Wm. Lake's office, corner Sixth and Asbury avenue, will receive prompt attention. C. THOMAS, NO. 108 MARKET STREET, PHILADELPHIA. HEADQUARTERS OF SOUTH JERSEY FOR FINE FAMILY GROCERIES. ALWAYS THE FRESHEST AND BEST TO BE FOUND IN THE MARKET.

Full Flavored Teas, Choice Brands of Coffee, Sugars of all Grades, Canned Fruits, Pickles, Spices, Raisins, Dried Beef, Butter and Lard. Hams of Best Quality, Weighed when Purchased by Customers. No Loss in Weight Charged to Purchasers. Stop in and make selections from the best, largest and freshest stock in Philadelphia. Orders by mail promptly attended to and goods delivered free of charge at any railroad or steamboat in the city. LOW PRICES. Satisfaction Gauranteed. [sic]

OCEAN CITY

A Moral Seaside Resort. Not Excelled as a Health Restorer.

Finest facilities for FISHING, Sailing, gunning, etc.

The Liquor Traffic and its kindred evils are forever prohibited by deed. Every lover of Temperance and Morals should combine to help us.

Water Supply, Railroad, Steamboats And all other Modern Conveniences. Thousands of lots for sale at various prices, located in all parts of the city. For information apply to E. B. LAKE, Secretary, Ocean City Asso'n, SIXTH ST. & ASBURY AVE.