FIRE WORSHIPERS. REV. DR. TALMAGE INVESTIGATES THE PARSEE RELIGION. A Remarkable Canon of Parsee Faith. Catechism That Will Stand the Christian Test--The Towers of Silence--A Parsee Marriage--Zoroaster and Christ.

BROOKLYN, Dec. 23.--Rev. Dr. Talmage, continuing his series of round the world sermons through the press, chose today for his subject "The Fire Worshipers," the text selected being Matthew il, 1, "There came wise men from the east to Jerusalem." These wise men were the Parsees or the so called fire worshipers, and I found their descendants in India last October. Their heathenism is more tolerable than any of the other false religions and has more alleviations, and while in this round the world series I have already shown you the worst forms of heathenism today I show you the least offensive. The prophet of the Parsees was Zoroaster of Persia. He was poet and philosopher and reformer as well as religionist. His disciples thrived at first in Persia, but under Mohammedan persecution they retreated to India, where I met them, and in addition to what I saw of them at their headquarters in Bombay, India, I had two weeks of association with one of the most learned and genial of their people on shipboard from Bombay to Brindisi.

Parsee Religion. The Bible of the Parsees, or fire worshipers, as they are inaccurately called, is the Zend Avesta, a collection of the strangest books that ever came into my hands. There were originally 21 volumes, but Alexander the Great, in a drunken fit, set fire to a palace which contained some of them, and they went into ashes and forgetfulness. But there are more of their sacred volumes left than most people would have patience to read. There are many things in the religion of the Parsees that suggest Christianity, and some of its doctrines are in accord with our own religion. Zoroaster, who lived about 1,400 years before Christ, was a good man, suffered persecution for his faith and was assassinated while worshiping at an altar. He announced the theory, "He is best who is pure of heart," and that there are two great spirits in the world, Ormazd, the good spirit, and Ahriman, the bad spirit, and that all who do right are under the influence of Ormazd, and all who do wrong are under Ahriman; that the Parsee must be born on the ground floor of the house and must be buried from the ground floor; that the dying man must have prayers said over him and a scared juice given him to drink; that the good at their decease go into eternal light

and the bad into eternal darkness; that having passed out of this life, the soul

lingers near the corpse three days in a paradisaic state, enjoying more than all the nations of earth put together could enjoy or in a pandemoniac state,

suffering more than all the nations put together could possibly suffer, but at the end of three days departing for its final destiny, and that there will be a resurrection of the body. They are more careful than any other people about their ablutions, and they wash and wash and wash. They pay great attention to physical health, and it is a rare thing to see a sick Parsee. They do not smoke tobacco, for they consider that a misuse of fire.

At the close of mortal life the soul appears at the bridge Chinvat, where an angel presides and questions the soul about the thoughts and words and deeds of its earthly state. Nothing, however, is more intense in the Parsee faith than the theory that the dead body is impure. A devil is supposed to take possession of the dead body. All who touch it are unclean, and hence the strange style of obsequies. But here I must give three or four questions and answers from one of the Parsee catechisms.

Parsee Catechism.

Question.--Who is the most fortunate man in the world? Answer.--He who is the most innocent. Q.--Who is the most innocent man in the world? A.--He who walks in the path of God and shuns that of the devil. Q.--Which is the path of God and which is that of the devil? A.--Virtue is the path of God and vice that of the devil. Q.--What constitutes virtue and what vice? A.--Good thoughts, good words and good deeds constitute virtue, and evil thoughts, evil words and evil deeds constitute vice. Q.--What constitute good thoughts, good words and good deeds and evil thoughts, evil words and evil deeds? A.--Honesty, charity and truthfulness constitute the former, and dishonesty, want of charity and falsehood constitute the latter.

And now the better to show you these Parsees I tell you of two things I saw within a short time in Bombay, India. It was an afternoon of contrast. We started for Malabar hill, on which the wealthy classes have their embowered homes and the Parsees their strange temple of the dead. As we rode along the water's edge the sun was descending the sky, and a disciple of Zoroaster, a Parsee, was in lowly posture and with reverential gaze looking into the sky. He would have been said to have been worshiping the sun, as all Parsees are said to worship the fire. But the intelligent Parsee does not worship the fire. He looks upon the sun as the emblem of the warmth and light of the Creator. Looking at a blaze of light, whether on hearth, on mountain height or in the sky, he can more easily bring to mind the glory of God--at least so the Parsees tell me. Indeed they are the pleasantest heathen I have met. They treat their wives as equals, while the Hindoos and Buddhists treat them as cattle, although the cattle and sheep and swine are better off than most of the women of India. This Parsee on the roadside on our way to Malabar hill was the only one of that religion I had ever seen engaged in worship. Who knows but that beyond the light of the sun on which he gazes he may catch a glimpse of the God who is light and "in whom there is no darkness at all?"

The Tower of Silence.

We passed on up through gates into the garden that surrounds the place where the Parsees dispose of their dead. This pardon was given by Jamahidil Jijional and is beautiful with bowers of all hue and foliage of all styles of vein and notch and stature. There is on all sides great opulence of fern and cypress. The garden is 100 feet above the level of the sea. Not far from the entrance is a building where the mourners of the funeral procession go in to pray. A light is here kept burning year in and year out.

We ascend the garden by some eight stone steps. The body of a deceased aged woman was being carried in toward the chief "tower of silence." There are five of these towers. Several of them have not been used for a long while. Four persons, whose business it is to do this, carry the corpse. They are followed by two men with long beards. The tower of silence to which they come cost $150,000 and is 25 feet

high and 276 feet around and without a roof. The four carriers of the dead and the two bearded men come to the door of the tower, enter and leave the dead. There are three rows of places for the dead--the outer row for the men, the middle row for the women, the inside row for the children. The lifeless bodies are left exposed as far down as the waist. As soon as the employees

retire from the tower of silence the vultures, now one, now two, now many, swoop upon the lifeless form. These vultures fill the air with their discordant voices. We saw them in long rows on the top of the whitewashed wall of the tower of silence. In a few minutes they have taken the last particle of flesh from the bones. There had evidently been other opportunities for them that day, and some flew away, as though surfeited. They sometimes carry away with them parts of a body, and it is no unusual thing for the gentlemen in their country seats to have dropped

into their dooryards a bone from the tower of silence. In the center of this tower is a well, into which the bones are thrown after

they are bleached. The hot sun and the rainy season and charcoal do their work

of disintegration and disinfection, and then there are sluices that carry into the

sea what remains of the dead. The

wealthy people of Malabar hill have made strenuous efforts to have these strange towers removed as a nuisance, but they remain and will no doubt for

ages remain.

Food For Vultures. I talked with a learned Parsee about these mortuary customs. He said: "I

suppose you consider them very peculiar, but the fact is we Parsees reverence the elements of nature and cannot consent to defile them. We reverence the fire, and therefore will not ask it to burn our dead. We reverence the water and do not ask it to submerge our dead. We reverence the earth and will not ask it to bury our dead. And so we let the vultures take them away." He confirmed me in the theory that the Parsees act on the principle that the dead are unclean. No one must touch such a body. The carriers of this "tomb of silence" must not put their hands on the form of the departed. They wear gloves lest somehow they should be contaminated. When the bones are to be removed from the sides of the tower and put in the well at the center, they are touched carefully by tongs. Then those people besides have very decided theories about the democracy of the tomb. No such thing as caste among the dead. Philosopher and boor, the affluent and the destitute must go through the same "tower of silence," lie down side by side with other occupants, have their bodies dropped into the same abyss and be carried out through the same canal and float away on the same sea. No splendor of Necropolis. No sculpturing of mausoleum. No pomp of dome or obelisk. Zoroaster's teaching resulted in these "towers of silence." He wrote, "Naked you came into the world, and

naked you must go out."

As I stood at the close of day in this garden on Malabar hill and heard the flap of the vultures' wings coming from their repast, the funeral custom of the Parsee seemed horrible beyond compare, and yet the dissolution of the human body by any mode is awful, and the beaks of these fowl are probably no more repulsive than the worms of the body devouring the sacred human form in cemeteries. Nothing but the resurrection day can undo the awful work of death, whether it now be put out of sight by cutting spade or flying wing.

A Parsee Wedding.

Starting homeward, we soon were in the heart of the city and saw a building all aflash with lights and resounding with merry voices. It was a Parsee wedding in a building erected especially for the marriage ceremony. We came to the door and proposed to go in, but at first were not permitted. They saw we were not Parsees, and that we were not even natives. So, very politely, they halted us on the doorsteps. This temple of nuptials was chiefly chiefly occupied by women, their ears and necks and hands aflame with jewels or imitations of jewels. By pantomime and gesture, as we had no use of their vocabulary, we told them we were strangers and were curious to see by what process Parsees were married. Gradually we worked our way inside the door. The building and the surroundings were illumined by hundreds of candles in glasses and lanterns, in unique and grotesque holdings. Conversation ran high, and laughter bubbled over, and all was gay. Then there was a sound of an advancing band of music, but the instruments for the most part were strange to our ears and eyes. Louder and louder were the outside [?] the wind and stringed instruments [?] until the procession halted at the door of the temple and the bridegroom mounted the steps. Then the music ceased, and all the voices were still. The mother of the bridegroom, with a platter loaded with aromatics and articles of food, confronted her son and began to address him. Then she took from the platter a bottle of perfume and sprinkled his face with the redolence. All the while speaking in a droning tone, she took from the platter a handful of rice, throwing some of it on his head, spilling some of it on his shoulder, pouring some of it on his hands. She took from the platter a cocoanut and waved it about his head. She lifted a garland of flowers and threw it over his neck and a bouquet of flowers and put it in his hand. Her part of the ceremony completed, the band resumed its music, and through another door the bridegroom was conducted into the center of the building. The bride was in the room, but there was nothing to designate her. "Where is the bride?" I said. "Where is the bride?" After awhile she was made evident. The bride and groom were seated on chairs opposite each other. A white curtain was dropped between them so that they could not see each other. Then the attendants put their arms under this curtain, took a long rope of linen and wound it around the neck of the bride and the groom in token that they were to be bound together for life. Then some [?] were wound around the couple, now around this one and now around that. Then the groom threw a handful of rice across the curtain on the head of the bride, and the bride responded by throwing a handful of rice across the curtain on the head of the groom. Thereupon the curtain dropped, and the bride's chair was removed and put beside that of the groom. Then a priest of the Parsee religion arose and faced the couple. Before the priest was placed a platter of rice. He began to address the young man and woman. We could not hear a word, but we understood just as well as if we had heard. Ever and anon he punctuated his ceremony by a handful of rice, which he picked up from the platter and flung now toward the groom and now toward the bride. The ceremony went on interminably. We wanted to hear the conclusion, but were told that the ceremony would go on for a long while, indeed that it would not conclude until 2 o'clock in the morning, and this was only between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening. There would be a recess after awhile in the ceremony, but it would be taken up again in earnest at half past 12. We enjoyed what we had seen, but felt incapacitated for six more hours of wedding ceremony. Silently wishing the couple a happy life in each other's companionship, we pressed our way through the throng of congratulatory Parsees. All of them seemed bright and appreciative of the occasion. The streets outside joyously sympathized with the transactions inside.

Hindoo Customs. We rode on toward our hotel wishing that marriage in all India might be as much honored as in the ceremony we had that evening witnessed at the Parsee wedding. The Hindoo women are not so married. They are simply cursed into the conjugal relation. Many of the girls are married at 7 and 10 years of age, and some of them are grandmothers at 30. They can never go 10 years of age, and some of them are grandmothers at 30. They can never go forth into the sunlight with their faces uncovered. They must stay at home. All styles of maltreatment are theirs. If they become Christians, they become outcasts. A missionary told me in India of a Hindoo woman who became a Christian. She had nine children. Her husband was over 70 years of age. And yet at her Christian baptism he told her to go, and she went out homeless. As long as woman is down India will be down. No nation was ever elevated except through the elevation of woman. Parsee marriage is an improvement on Hindoo marriage, but Christian marriage is an improvement on Parsee mar-

riage.

A fellow traveler in India told me he had been writing to his home in England trying to get a law passed that no white woman could be legally married in India until she had been there six months. Admirable law would that be! If a white woman saw what married life with a Hindoo is, she would never undertake it. Off with the thick and ugly veil from woman's face! Off with the crushing burdens from her shoulder! Nothing but the gospel of Jesus Christ will ever make life in In-

dia what it ought to be.

But what an afternoon of contrast in Bombay we experienced! From the temple of silence to the temple of hilarity. From the vultures to the doves. From mourning to laughter. From gathering shadows to gleaming lights. From obsequies to wedding. But how much of all our lives is made up of such opposites! I have carried in the same pocket and read from them in the same hour the liturgy of the dead and the ceremony of espousals. And so the tear meets the smile, and the dove meets the vulture. Thus I have set before you the best of all the religions of the heathen world, and I have done so in order that you might come to higher appreciation of the glorious religion which has put its benediction over us and over Christendom.

A Comparison.

Compare the absurdities and mummeries of heathen marriage with the plain "I will" of Christian marriage, the hands joined in pledge "till death do you part." Compare the doctrine that the dead may not be touched with as sacred and loving a kiss is ever given, the last kiss of lips that never again will speak to us. Compare the narrow bridge Chinvat over which the departing Parsee soul must tremblingly cross to the wide open gate of heaven through which the departing Christian soul may triumphantly enter. Compare the 21 books of the Zend Avesta of the Parsee which even the scholars of the earth despair of understanding with our Bible, so much of it as is necessary for our salvation in language so plain that "a wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err therein." Compare the "tower of silence," with its vultures, at Bombay with the Greenwood of Brooklyn, with its sculptured angels of resurrection. And bow yourselves in thanksgiving and prayer as you realize that if at the battles of Marathon and Salamis Persia had triumphed over Greece instead of Greece triumphing over Persia, Parseeism, which was the national religion of Persia, might have covered the earth, and you and I instead of sitting in the noonday light of our glorious Christianity might have been groping in the depressing shadows of Parseeism, a religion as inferior to that which is our inspiration in life and our hope in death as Zoroaster of Persia was inferior to our radiant and superhuman Christ, to whom be honor and glory and dominion and victory and song, world without end. Amen.

THE GRIZZLIES OF IDAHO. A Tacit Agreement With Men In the Early Days Not to Molest Each Other.

"Speaking of grizzly bears," said Judge Henry I. Warren of Albuquerque, "we didn't look on these animals as particularly dangerous in Idaho when I was the United States district attorney of that territory. If a man attacked one at close quarters, he sometimes got killed, but at a little distance not much more attention was paid to bears than if they had been so many hogs or cattle. Between human beings and the bears there seemed to be at that time a tacit agreement to let one another alone.

"One of my hardest horseback trips led me through a wild region where I often saw bears. At one point the trail crossed an open valley dotted with scattering big trees and clumps of underbrush, and on the farther side wound up a steep mountainside through thick oak and pine woods. Coming d own into that valley one day I saw, a little way off on my right, five bears--two very large ones and three smaller ones--constituting possibly a family party. They were running about here and there nosing the ground, turning over stones and knocking to pieces rotten logs, hunting for mice and grubs. They apparently paid no attention to me as I rode past, 150 yards away. My horse looked a little wild and fidgeted some at the sight of them, but I kept him in the trail without difficulty.

"At another time a bear gave me considerable of a scare. I had crossed this same valley and was just beginning to ascend the wooden heights beyond it. I had dismounted and was leading my horse up the steep hillside when a bear broke out of the bushes a little behind me and came for me furiously, showing her teeth and growling. I stood still, expecting to be torn to pieces the next

moment, from the determined way in which she came--it was a she bear--but she stopped just short of seizing me and turned to dash in the same way at my horse, and at that I dropped the bridle and made up the trail as fast as

I could go. My horse, instead of turning

back to run for life in the clear open

ground of the valley, when she charged at him, made a detour up the hill and came back on the trail behind me. The bear, looking mighty ugly with her frothing mouth and bristling hair, kept up her demonstrations, directing them principally at my horse. You know how a horse, when thoroughly frightened, will seek the company and protection of humanity, and so, do all I could to drive him away, my beast all the time kept right behind me, with his nose at my shoulder, trembling with fear, but refusing to leave me, as the bear kept making dashes at us out of the bushes, sometimes from one side and sometimes from the other. "I didn't know then what I have learned from the habits of the animals since--that the bear was running a bluff on us and did not mean so much to harm us as to scare us away. She undoubtedly had cubs concealed close by in the bushes and resorted to a common trick of the female bear to drive away intruders. Probably if I had stood my ground she would have tackled me, and in that case it would have been all up with me. She followed us 100 yards or so, and then seeming satisfied that she had got us fairly on the run fell back into the bushes and watched us out of sight."--New York Sun.

Small Fortune Under Her Mattress.

Mary Connolly, 60 years old, was found

dead recently in the small rear room in

which she lived for the last three years on the first floor of 80 Hayter street, a

lofty tenement house known as the "Kerry Flats."

Under the mattress of the bed were found three bankbooks showing deposits in the Brecker Street Bank of Savings, the Immigrant Industrial and the Bowery Savings banks which amounted to $3,258.70. There was also found a purse containing $102.17. Cornelius Sullivan, who keeps a saloon in the basement, was told by his wife that one of the windows of Mary's room

had been open all the preceding day, and the lonely occupant had not been heard stirring around. Sullivan called in Policeman Brophy.

Brophy entered the rear room through the window. As his feet reached the floor he stumbled over the old woman's body. She had evidently been dead for several hours. The corpse was in a cramped position between the wall and a small table, with her chin pressed rigidly down on the breast. It is supposed that she became ill and was opening the window to obtain air when she fell back either unconscious or dead from heart disease.

She was rather eccentric and persisted in living alone. She was never married. For several years she was employed as a scrubwoman in Chambers Street hospital, but recently she had lived upon what money she had saved. Her nearest relatives are two first cousins--one living in Jersey City and the other in Port Jervis, N. Y.--New York Herald.

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McCash and Gladstone. The late President McCash used to tell the following story about the days when he was one of the active champions of the free church movement in Scotland: "Often I would be forbidden to set foot in a town, such was the hostility. In one place, after trying in vain to get a hall or a vacant lot on which to preach, I sat on my horse by the roadside and delivered my sermon to the crowd, calling on all good Christians to come out and be separate from the op-

pressive state church, and asking those who might be so moved to remain. A decent man and his wife stopped and said: 'We desire to go with you, but we are in service, and our master threatens to turn us off if we have anything to do with the movement.' 'And who is your master?' 'Sir John Gladstone, who lives yonder.' 'I shall call up and see him tonight.' I went, and while walking through the grounds I met a noble looking young man reading a book and deeply absorbed in thought. Asking his name, I was told that it was Sir John's son, William Gladstone, a rising young man and a graduate of Oxford. I saw his father and carried my point with him, and his two servants were the nucleus of a flourishing congregation which was gathered in that place."

The Paths We Make. A footpath is the most human thing in inanimate nature. Even as the print of his thumb reveals the old offender to the detectives, so the path tells you the sort of feet that wore it. Like the human nature that created it, it starts out to go straight when strength and deter-

mination shape its course, and it goes crooked when weakness lays it out. Until you begin to study them you can have no notion of the differences of character that exist among foothpaths.

One line of trodden earth seems to you the same as another. But look! Is the path you are walking on fairly straight from point to point, yet deflected to avoid short rises and falls, and is it worn to grade--that is, does it plow a deep way through little [?] and hillocks, something as a street is cut down to grade? If you see this path before you, you may be sure it is made by the heavy shuffle of workingmen's feet. A path that wavers from side to side, especially if the turns be from one bush to another, and that is only a light trail, making an even line of wear over the inequalities of the ground--that is a path that children make. The path made by the business man--the man who is anxious to get to his work at one end of the day and anxious to get to his home at the other--is generally a good piece of engineering. This type of man makes more paths in this country than he does in any other. He carries his intelligence and his energy into every act of life, and even in the half unconscious business of making his own private trail he generally manages to find the line of least resistance in getting from one point to another.--From "The Story of a Path" by H. C. Bunner in Scribner's Magazine.

Stole an Orchard.

A novel theft has been reported to the sheriff by a farmer who lives near French Camp, on the turnpike. This farmer came to town Saturday and left his farm in charge of his young son for

the day. The boy saw some men dig-

ging up fruit trees in the young orchard his father had started and went out to them to inquire what they were at.

The men said they had bought all the trees from the owner and were digging them up to take them away. The boy thought of course it was as the man said, and that his father had really sold the trees, so he made no protest. When the father came home, he was greatly astonished to find that his orchard had disappeared during his absence at Stockton.

The young son told him what had happened, and steps were taken at once to find some trace of the trees if possible, but without success. None of the nurserymen here has bought any trees answering the description, and it cannot be learned that any of that sort have been shipped from Stockton. About 300 trees in all were stolen.--Stockton (Cal.) Dispatch.

Anxious to Hit It Again.

Many years ago, when the Democratic party had been badly beaten on certain issues in New York, there was a conference of leaders, one of whom was the late Samuel J. Tilden.

A proposition was offered by one of the conferees that the party continue on the same lines of policy, trusting to the better education of public opinion the next time.

When Mr. Tilden's views were requested, he said:

"On a Certain Occasion an Indiscreet

Man placed himself beneath a descend-

ing Pile driver. Of course he was Crushed to a Jelly, but a Spark of Life Remained. The Doctors, by Dint of Bandages, Splinters, Plaster of Paris Molds, and Other Appliances of the Healing Art, Restored his Body to a Semblance of Human Shape. The Patient then lay for Several Days in a Stupor. Finally one Morning he opened his Eyes, looked languidly around and said in a Feeble Voice to the Attendant: 'Where is It? Let Me Hit It Again!'"--Washing-

ton Post.

ODDS AND ENDS.

An English bishop is properly addressed as my lord. The word captain, so often used in the Bible, simply means officer. The shah of Persia pretends to date his title back for a thousand years. The most ancient title is that of king. It or its equivalent is found in every known language. In formal letters to a duke it is etiquette to begin, "My lord duke, may it please your grace." The holy Roman empire has but three genuine landgraves, those of Thuringia, Lower and Higher Alsace. Ten million packs of playing cards are used in the United States every year, and that is one to every seven people--men, women and children. In the days of the European Diocletian a house painter's wages were [?] cents a day, while a schoolmaster received only 60 cents a month for each pupil. A curator was a Roman official in charge of various departments of the public service. The title nearly corresponds to our word superintendent.

The fashionable end of Fifth avenue, in New York, is disfigured by a free lunch saloon. It is the only place of the king in a stretch of four or five miles. The Greek emperors of Constantinople called themselves "holy," and one of the official titles by which they insisted on being addressed was "your holiness." The sticky, sweet, high smelling fluid secreted by the honey ant of Mexico is used as food and also for medicinal purposes, especially for diseases of the eye and ear. The title of Illustrious was never formally bestowed as a title of honor until the time of Constantine and was then given to such princes as had distinguished themselves at war. The only genuine sheik is the governor of Medina. His office is said to date from the time of the prophet. It is now generally applied as an honorary title to the head man of an Arab village. All hearses are provided with lamps. There are probably very few city people who ever saw a hearse with lighted lamps. That would not be so remarkable a sight, however, in the country, where hearses go long distances.

Market rights in Brussels and throughout Belgium are vested by prescription in communal councils, which have power to establish markets on public or private property and can increase or diminish them according to their appreciation of the wants of the community.

CAN'T BUILD A FOURTH CHURCH. Dr. Talmage Severs His Relations With the Tabernacle Congregation.

The Rev. T. De Witt Talmage officially severed his relations with the Brooklyn Tabernacle at the last meeting of the Brooklyn presbytery in the Mount Olivet Presbyterian church at Evergreen avenue and Troutman street. The meeting was called to order by the Rev. Dr. John Fox of the Second Presbyterian church. The following letter from Dr. Talmage was read:

To the [?] Presbytery:

DEAR PRESBYTERY: After much prayer and [?] I apply for the dissolution of the pastoral relations existing between the Brooklyn Tabernacle and myself. I have only one reason for asking this. As you all know, we have during my pastorate built three large churches. They have been destroyed. If I remain pastor, we must undertake the super- [?] and a fourth church. I do not feel it my duty to lead in such an undertaking. The [?] providential indications are that my work in the Brooklyn Tabernacle is concluded. [?], however, to this presbytery that I do not intend to go into idleness, but into other service quite as arduous as that in which I have been engaged. Expecting that my request will be granted, I take this oppor-

tunity to express my love for all the brethren in this presbytery with whom I have so long and so pleasantly been associated, and to pray for them and [?] they represent at the [?] blessings that God can bestow. Yours in the gospel, T. DE WITT TALMAGE. Brooklyn, [?].

Dr. Talmage was present and made a brief address. He said that some time ago the congregation, after much persuasion, accepted his decision to leave them, but on Sunday they had held another meeting and determined as a compliment to him to disagree with his intention to resign and hold him to his pastorate.

After very little opposition Dr. Talmage's request was granted. The Rev. J. F. Crown presented the following resolution:

Resolved, That the presbytery, while yielding to Dr. Talmage's earnest petition for the dissolution of the relationship existing between the Brooklyn Tabernacle and himself, express the deep regret at the necessity of such action and wish Dr. Talmage abundant success in any fight in which in the providence of God he may be called to labor. The presbytery also expresses the [?] sympathy with the members of the Tabernacle church in the loss of their honored and loving pastor and cordially [?] them to go forward in all the work of the church.

Unfair Discrimination. Hobbie--I notice that in some places the authorities have prohibited [?] parties, on account of the [?] they make. Lobbie--That's queer. The authorities never interfere with [?] parties.--New York Weekly.

Wind Vortices. That intelligent traveler in South Africa, Mr. Burchell, says that in the dry season, when the thermometer frequently stood at 96 degrees in the shade, he often witnessed small whirlwinds which drew up pillars of dust, and these passed rapidly along, carrying up every light substance to the height of 100 to 400 feet. Professor Smyth, while at Tenerife, noticed this curious effect: A small whirlwind passed close to their tent and seized upon the end of a roll of [?] cloth that was hanging out of a chest, unrolled it, although it was 40 yards long, and carried it up into the sky so high that it looked like a piece of ribbon. There it sailed away slowly round in a circle, accompanied by some hats, caps and other smaller matters, after which, descending leisurely, it fell about 400 yards away.--Notes and Queries.

English Railroads.

The staff of the English railroads is mostly made up of men who entered the

service as lads, say, 14 years old, and

necessarily in very subordinate posi-tions--about the stations as porters and

telegraph boys, in the offices as messen-

gers and subordinate clerks, or in the shops doing such humble work as a boy can do.

These boys come largely from the

farms. In fact, one old station master told me that the plowboys are the best

material that he has. He himself having been a plowboy, and his general superintendent having been another, perhaps he is a little prejudiced, but he said these boys are less inclined to drink and to be saucy than city bred boys. They are healthier and more docile and have sounder brains.--Scribner's Magazine.

A Venerable Man. It may not be generally known that one of the oldest living Englishmen is a

native of Salford and has been resident there from his birth. His name is William Hampson, and he lives in Duke street, near the Gravel Lane Wesleyan schools. He is believed to be 114 years old, and he distinctly remembers, as a

a boy, seeing John Wesley and hearing him preach at the Salford Cross in Greensgate. After preaching Wesley walked on to examine the then partly risen edifice of Gravel Lane chapel. This was in 1720, and Hampson recalls the circumstances in every detail.--Manchester Monthly.

A Thirteen Superstition. "The superstition as to 18 being an unlucky number crops out sometimes in unexpected ways," said a shopper.

"The other day, when in a big city goods store, I saw a woman pay 14 cents for an article, the price of which was 13 cents, because of it. The shop girl stared and with a disdainful smile gave the extra penny to the cashboy."--New York Sun.

The Gladstone Library. The iron library building erected by Mr. Gladstone at Hawarden, which now contains 24,000 volumes, is to be devoted to the use of students. A library is to be provided where board and lodgnig can be obtained for 25 shillings per week. Many of the books are annotated by Mr. Gladstone.

In Belgium almost the entire population is Roman Catholic, and there are over 1,000 convents, with nearly 25,000 inmates. Protestantism is tolerated and even salaried by the state, but cannot count more than 15,000 adherents.

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. $1.75 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. Take no substitute. If your dealer cannot supply you we can. Sold by C. A. CAMPBELL.

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.

The Viking ship exhibited at the World's fair has been secured by an association in Chicago and will be kept in

that city.

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.