Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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_ MY SENTINEL. BT GEORGIA MILLAUDE AMBBrDGH. The last rich ravs of sunset fade Before my longing gaze. And one bright glorious star appear! From out the twilight's haze. And as I watch its liquid light With eyes bedimmcd and sad, It s ems to smile in sympathy, It cheers me, makes me glad. A quiet, peaceful comfort comol > rom that ar sentinel. Who, kinder than humanity, Is brave to wish me well. * ? A web of darkly drifting clouds Kow fills the evening sky, But well I know that back of them My star still smiles on high. A HAD MARRIAGE; / ? OR.? The Heiress of Lawrence Park. i STORY OF ADSORBING INTEREST. BY MBS. E. B. COLLINS. CHAPTER n. BEHIND THE SCENES. | It was a full hour afterward, when through the night and the storm, Gabrielle flew down the long, wind-swept, rain-drenched walk, which led from the mansion to tho high arched iron gates beyond. Once there she halted and glanced back toward the house, standing white and grand amid the tall trees like a marble enchanted palace. An awful look rested upon her stern, white face, as she lifted her clenched hand and shook it savagely. "Curse you!" she panted, hoarsely, under her breath; "the curse of a ! * ? 1 A 1 _ 1 A 1 DrOKen neart, a ruineci me, a aobc soui, rest upon that house and all within it I" The iron gate opened swiftly. She passed through; it closed behind her with a loud clang, and all was still. Lawrence Park was situated in the suburbs of a great city. She turned her face in the direction of its twinkling lignts, and plunged on through the gloom. The thunder and lightning had lain down to rest. The rain was coming down in a slow, musical drip, drip, upon the wet pavements. She drew her drenched garments about her and hurried on. All at once a dark form emerged from the gloomv shadows, and ere she could cry out a hand was laid upon her own. "Gabrielle!" cried a low voice in guarded trnes; she fell back, trembling violently. ""Don't you know me?" cried the man's voice a little contemptuously; "vou are not usually such a coward, Crabrielle St. Cyr!" She drew a long breath of relief. "Mark!" she faltered; "is it you? ^ What is the matterV" Ho bent his head; a handsome brigandish fellow, and spoke in a low, hurried, tone: "You have been tnere?to Lawrence Park?" he demanded sharply. "No? no, you cannot deny it. Is he there? the old man ? And did you see him? alone?" His dark eyes glittered through the gloom, and his voice shook perceptibly. "Yes. I saw him!" she returned slow ly. "Mark Alleyne, listen to me. You love Adele?" His broad cliost rose and fell with I eager excitement, ana liig voice was scarcely audible as he made answei fiercely: "As I do my own soul! But, she?3 am afraid it is too late, Gabrielle!" She moved impatiently. "Let me manage all that!" she said swiftly. "Come to me to-morrow, Mark, at my own home; I will be alone, while Adele is at the theater; I have something to say to you?something of importance?a matter of life and death! Will you come?" "I will be there. And now, goodnight P He turned swiftly and left her alone. She knew not which way he went; but he had taken the path straight to Lawrenos Park. . Left alone, she hurried onward. She was strangely shaken; her faco pale as death, her eyes full of terror. She hurried onward where the city streets lay spread out like the tracing upon a map; she turned a corner, and paused before a great, brilliantly illuminated building, which bore an immense sign?"Odeon Theater." Just in time! she muttered, casting ft wild glance about. She turned in at an open doorway; down along, narrow entry; up a pair of uare, dirty stairs, and paused to rap lightly upon a door. It opened at once, and she darted over the threshold. It was a dressing-room attached to the theater. In the center of the dingy apartment stood a dazzling vision in short white tulle skirts,spangled with glittering fireflies; a cluster of fire-flies tangled in the meshes of her long, dark hair, which waved over her shoulders, a shimmering, dusky veil. A beautiful face, in spite of the stage "make-up." Large, dark eyes; straight, delicate features; a face to attract and fascinate; a face fall of hidden power. Adele St. Cyr, as she was called, was only a danscuse, but she was pretty as a picture; saucy?piquante. She whirled about upon the toe of one white satin shod foot with a low ejaculation of surprise. "Mamma! Where have you been': And what is the matter?" Come in, quick! Oh, heaven help us! What is wrong?" She fell back with a cry of horror. For her eyes had fallen upon her mother's ungloved hand, upon which was a great, hideous stain, the stain of fresh , crimson blood. Pale and trembling, the girl stood gazing upon it, but Gabrielle made no attempt at explanation; she sank into a seat, With bowed head, and averted eyes. Adele stooa watching her, ner eye3 glittering like steel; in their depths a look not good to see. "Tell me alll" she panted, excitedly. "'Ton have seen him, at last; this man (who is" (she drew her breath hard, as though in pain) "my father; yet who 'does not acknowledge his own child. (He lives in a palace home, with everv luxury that heart can wish; respected", Ihonored; while you, his lawful wife, are little better than a beggar! And I, Ihis ohild, I dance upon the stage c^very night for the pittance that keeps the wolf from our door 1 "There is no good in a world where guch foul wrongg_ exiftt, thera. is ?o( justice upon eartm 1 Iinow, for you have told me, all your pitiful story of wrong. How he deserted you, leaving you with your child upon your breast, unprovided for, for all those long, dark years I And now we find him a millionaire, looked upon as kind, charitable, honorable! I have thoucht over the story ot our wrongs until my brain reels and my heart is on fire. Mamma, I intend to be avenged!" ' "Adele!" "I intend to be avenged!" Her voice was slow and level; hei eyes flashed with a hateful light; she was something to fear, as she stood there, in her glittering stage dress, so out of place in the midst of that wild storm of passion. "He deserves punishment!" she said Blowly; "and I " she stopped short, *? n?Ui'a)ln V>o/1 tvrison. And an IU1 -x proaclied her, her wet garments dragging over the bare floor with a swishing sound. "Listen, Adele!" slie commenced; and bending her head she spoke swiftly in a low tone The girl fell back a little, trembling violently. "His daughter, mamma? What do you mean? Is it possible that " Mlt is possible that he ha3 married again!" broke in Gabrielle's voice in a slow monotone. "She is dead, thank heaven! But there is a child?a young girl?a beautiful creature, Adele! I watched hei I through the window where I knelt in the storm and darkness. She was magnificently dres3ed?like a queen, AdeLs ?for the theater, she said. And, listen, dear, I believe she is in this very house to-night!" A low cry broke from the girl's lips. "Hush!" panted Gabrielle. "You must go upon the stage now! Seei They have sont!" A change instantly passed over the girl's face, transforming it into a smiling painted mask, as her eyes fell upon the call boy, making his way towarda uer. A little later she had flitted out upon the stage, to be received with a loud outburst of applause. She came floating back again, after tlie dance was done, pale and trembling like a leaf. G?.brielle, who had exchanged her wet clothing for dry garments, arcse involuntarily at sight of the awful anguisli upon the girl's face. "My child " she was beginning; but Adele clutched her imperiously. "Mamma, listen! He is there, in front, Arthur Wynne! He has come every night for weeks, to see me dance: he has showered at my feet the loveliest bouquets! He has been very kind and courteous to me, as you know. Once, when I v.-as insulted by a drunken fellow on the street, Arthur Wynne) came to my rescue and saved me from lhame and humiliation. He treats me as if I were the highest lady in the land. He is rich, handsome, aristocratic, far above me?ho is " "Ir> short, the 'catch of the season 1' " answered Gabrielle; "and not likely to think seriously of a ballet dancer!"" The girl's eyes were blazing. She 1. -1-1 JJ "LI - J was puie as scuipuurcu uim uie, uuu uci light form shook like a reed in the wind. "Hush!" she cried, sharply; "I am Adele St. Cyr Lawrence, by right, and quite as good as he! But I have not told you all! Mamma, he is in a stagebox, the box on the right. I can almost touch him as I move over the stage; end he is not alone! A beautiful girl is with him; a yellow-haired, blue-eyed doll, with a wild-rose color in her cheeks. She is no prettier than I, but she wears a costly dress?violet velvet, and amethysts. I *' Gabrielle St. Cyr started as with a sliouk, and her face grew ghastly white. "Wait a moment!" she panted swiftly. She slipped from the room and around to the "wings." She peered forth, seeing but unseen, for a moment, then she returned. "Adele!" h:-r voice was shaking so that it was scarcely audible; "it ia Kuby Lawrence!" Silence. No sound to break the stillness resting over the dingy dressingroom like a pall. At last: unr. i" /JA ~VXt?UILUUJ yiv T? do XilVU ?.? ? U1X Wi Uv spair) "I lovo him?Arthur Wynne! Far above me, though you say he is, I am his equal after all; and ho would have loved me in time, I know it. But she has won hiui; I could see it even while I pirouetted over the stage, for a dancer must dance though her heart be breaking! .Every glance of Jus beautiful eyes into her doll baby fo jc means love! "She has won him, mamma, as she has won all! For her?home, fortune, position; and now, greater than all else, his love! But she shall not triumph long! Let Kuby Lawrence beware! The tigress in the jungle is no more pitiless than jealous hatred; I swear to punish her, to make her bow her head in endless shams; to pay back all the debt I owe! And Adule St. Cyr never breaks an oath!" CHAPTER in. HEE FATE. Crash went the music, and the curtain flew up like magic upon the last act. There was a hush of expectancy, and then the fairy-like form of the danseuse floated airily over the stage once more, in a bewildering pas seul. She danced like a sylph, light as air, beau tuui as a aream, smiung ana pirouetting, while all the time her heart was full of the very bitterness of death. Passionate, willful, untrained, unrelenting, revengeful; heaven help tho unconscious ofienders against whom she misht plot vengeance. As the dance went on slie was casting furtive glances in the direction ol the man in the stage box; a handsome, dark-eyed man, with a distinguished air, who sat at Ruby Lawrence's side, to whom he had been presented by Mrs. Chillingworth a few weeks before. She was leaning forward, following the movements of the dancer with eager eyes. She had lain aside her white fui cloak, and substituted a drapery ol costly white lace, which enhanced tho pearly whiteness of liir graceful shoulders, just seen through its meshesFramed in by the flowing laca curtains of the box, she was like a picture in a frame as she sat there, unconscious of the admiring eyes fixed upon her, and the lorgnettes leveled in her direction from all parts ot tne nouse. Mrs. Chillingworth, in black velvet and diamonds, was seated near; at her side, a portly gentleman who occasionally cast a glance toward the stage, as though the performance thero was scarcely worth his notice. And the music crashed and surged, and the fairy-like dancer went on; and no one present dreamed of the tragedy to which this was the prelude. The danseuse was floating over the stage like thistle-down, and so absorbed wexQ the audience in her graceful move ? menta that no one observed the tiny blue flame that was creeping and crawling up the lace curtains of the box, close at Ruby'8 side; crawling nearer ? nearer; no one knew, no one saw, save that graceful, fairy-like creature upon whom all eyes were fixed, while she danced as surely mortal never danced before. All at once a hot breath fanned Ruby's cheek; she turned suddenly and started to her feet with a wild shriek of horror which resounded through the crowded house. The curtains of the box were wrapped in flame, which had already crisped and : scorched the lace drapery that she wora. The insidious flame was fanned into a blaze by her swift movements in arising, and in a moment she was writhing amid crimson tongues of fire. One swift glance, and Arthur Wynne was at % _ _ J _ !_ _ P 1 J1 _ _ Ll. 1. _ J 1, ! ner Blue, ms iucepaieuBueiin, ma uur& eyes full of unutterable honor. He caught up his overcoat from a gilded seat where it was lying and wrappeJ it about the slender form of the girl. The house was in a panic. Men ran wildly to his assistance, women shrieked and fainted; it was a scene never to be forgotten. Fifteen minutes later, Ruby Lawrence, pale and half fainting, was borne from the theater and placed in her carriage, terribly frightened and unstrung, but saved, uninjured. Arthur Wynne assisted Mrs. Chillingworth to a seat at Ruby's side, then, after a slight hesitation, sprang in and seated himself, while the carriage drove off at full speed for Lawrence Park. Ruby felt a pair of dark, handsomt eyes bent upon her pale, terrified face; eyes which held a divine light befor? which she trembled like a culprit. "I sr.id that I should meet my fatfi to-night!" the girl murmured soltly tc herself. "I wonder if?if " The words died away in blissful reverie; but the beautiful eyes turned no more in his direction. Lawrence Park was reached; the carriage entered the gates, drove up the broad avenue and paused before the entrance to the great white villa, standing as still and white as though the shadow of doom were not resting ovei it. Aye, hovering upon its very thresh- j old. A pair of strong arms lifted E jby ^ J -1 J 1 aowil UI1U piUUtU nei upuu iua mniuia steps of the mansion. And then she lifted her shy eyes to his eager face once more. "How can I thank yon?" she was beginning. but he interrupted her. "iJy saying nothing about it, dear Miss Lawrence," he intervened. "And ?you will let me call soon?" The look that she gave him said more than her courteous reply; he bowed hia head swiftly, and pressed his lips upon her white hand. Then he was gone, and Ruby entered the house, lictle dreaming of all that would lie between them before they met again. She ran lightly up the velvet-carpeted staircase; Mrs. Chillingworth, who was to remain at Lawrence Park fo^ the night, had already sought her own room. At the door of her father's chamber, Euby paused. "I wonder if papa is asleep ?" she said, softly. "I wish I could see him bofnre retirincr: but I do not like to disturb him; it is so late! And 1 win tell him about my wonderful escape? and?Mr. Wynne" (her sweet face flush ing like the heart of a June rose) "in the morning." She rested her flushed cheek against the pawel of his chamber-door for an instant, and then, with a whispered "Good-night, papa!" she was gone. # * # "Murder! Murder! Murder!" The cry rang out upon the still morning air, like a knell of doom; dying away into a broken gurgle of horror. A few moments later, a trembling, white-faced group had gathered about the door of the library, from beneath which a slender, dark-red stream waa issuing. It was human blood! And then a strong hand burst open the door, and they saw a sight which would haunt them to their dying day. The chandelier was still burning, throwing its garish glare over the awful scene, and making the daylight quail. And there, upon the velvet carpet, prone upon his face, lay Gilbert Lawrence, of Lawrence Park?with a dagger thrust in liis heart?stone dead, and had been for hours. cto be continued,). ~ The laws that are multiplied by the different States regulating the sale of articles to minors are not enforced, and it is doubtful if they can be enforced. Illiuois now pushes forward a statute forbidding the sale to young people of publications principally consisting of accounts of criminal deeds. There are books of the Hebrew Scriptures that would oe excluded under the law. A large part of English history as written consists of accounts of criminal deeds. Our legislators' instincts are well enough in such matters; but for all that they do harm with their experiments. _____ The Duke of Westminster, worth $80,000,000, is her Majesty's richest subject. The two Yanderbilts, the Standard-Oil Rockafellers, William J. Flagler, another Standard man, and Leland Stanford are worth iar more than $80,000,000 each. Theodore Urban, an antiquarian and student of Columbia, Pa., says he has evidence that this continent was settled about G50 years after the deluge; that the inhabitants were highly civilizcd and used tools of metal. The height of snobbishness is reached at English bazars, where money is taken as the piice of an introduction to this and that beauty or titled lady presiding over tables. Assistant Secretary of the Treasury Batcheller was told recently that he looked tired. "It makes me tired to look at so much money in the Treasury vaults," he exclaimed. It takes 740,000 acres of forest to supply ties for the railroads of the United States. Who will say that, we are not bound to these corporations by I many ties ? ??V. Dli. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN 111 VINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: The Bower of Tree Branches. (Preached at the Hamptons, Long Island.) Txxt: "Go forth unto the mount and fetch olive branches, and pine branches,and myrtle branches, and palm, branches, and branches of thick trees, to make booths."? Nehemiah viii., 15. It seems as if Mount Olivet were unmoored. The people have gone into the mountain, and nave cut off tree branches, and put them on their shoulders, and they como forth now into the streets of Jerusalem, and on the house tops, and they twist those tree branches into arbor? or booths. Then the poople come forth from their comfortable homes, and dwell for seven days in those booths I TT7"V?xt /1a fhoir rlo t.hnt? WaII i it is a great festal time. It is tho feast of tabernacles; and these people are going to celebrate tho desert travel of their fathers and their deliverance from their j troubles, tho experience of their fathers wher traveling in the desert, they lived In booths on their way to the land of Canaan. And so these booths also become highly suggestive?I will not say they arc necessarily typical, but highly suggestive?of our march toward heaven, and of the fact that wo are only living temporarily here, as it were, in booths or arbors, on our way to the Canaan of eternal rest. And what was said to the Jews literally may to-day be said figuratively to all this audience. Go forth into the mountain, and fetch olive branches, and pine branches, and myrtle branches, and palm branches, and branches of thick trees to make booths. Yes, we are only here in a temporary residence. We are marching on. The merchant princeu who used to live in Bowling Green, Now York, have passed away, and their residences are now the fields of cheap merchants. Where are the men who fifty years ago owned New York? Passed on. There is no use in our driving our stakes too deep into the earth; we are on the march. The generations that have preceded us have gone so far on that we cannot even hear the sound of their footsteps. They have gone over the hills, and we are to follow them. But, blessed be God, we are not in this world loft out of doors and unsheltered. There are gospel booths, or gospel arbors, in which our souls are to be comforted. Go forth unto the mountain, and fetch olive branches, and pine branches, and myrtle branches, and palm branches, and branches of thick trees, and build booths. Wen, now we are to-day to construct a gospel arbor, or gospel boota; anu now snau we construct it? Well, we must get all the tree branches and build. According to my text we must go up into the mount and bring olive branches. What does that mean? The olive tree grows in warm climates, and it reaches the height of twenty or twenty-two feet, a straight stem, and then an offshoot from that stem. And then people come, and they strip off these branches sometimes, and when in time of war the General of one army takes one of these olive branches and goes out to the General of another army, what does that mean? Why, it means unsaddle the war chargers. It means hang up the war knapsacks. It is but a beautiful way of saying Peace! Now, if we are to-day going to succeed in building this gospel arbor, we must go into the Mount of Gou's blessing, and fetch the olive branches and whatever else we must have. We must have at least two olive branches?peace with God at d peace with man. When I say peace with God, I do not mean to represent God as a bloody chicftain, having a grudge against us, but I uo mean to affirm there is no more antagonism between a hound and a haro, between a hawk and a pullet, between elephant and swino, than there is hostility botween holiness and sin. And if God is all holinoss, and we are all sin, thero must be a readjustment, thero must be a reconstruction, there must be a treaty, thore must be a stretching forth of olive branches. There is a great lawsuit going on now, and it is a lawsuit which man is bringing against bis Maker; that lawsuit is now on toe calendar. It is the human versus the divine; it is iniquity versus the immaculate: it is weakness versus omnipotence. Man began it; God did not begin the lawsuit. "We began it; we assaulted our Maker, and tho sooner we end this part of the struggle in which the finite attempts to overthrow the infinite and omnipotent, tho sooner we end it the better. Travelers tell us there is no such place as Mount Calvary, that it is only a hill, only an insignificant hill; but I persist in calling it tho mount of God't divine mercy and love, far grander than any other place on earth, grander than the Alps or Himalayas, and there are no other hills us compared with it; and I havo noticed in every sect where the cross of Christ is set forth, it is plantod with olive branchos. And all we have to do is to get rid of this war between God and ourselves, of which we are all tired. We want to back out of the war, we want to get rid of this hostility. All we have to do is just to get up on the mount of God's blessing, and pluck these olive branches and wave them before the throne. Peace through our Lord Jesus Christ.' Oh, it don't make much difference what the world thinks of you?what this King, that Queeiij that Senator thinks of you. But come into tne warm, intimate, glowing and everlasting relationship with the God of the round universe; that is the joy that makes a hallelujah seem stupid. Ah, why do we want to have peace through our Lord Jesus Christ? Why, if we had gone on in ten thousand years of war against God, wo couid notjiave captured so much as a sword or cavalry stirrup, or twisted off one of the wheels of tho chariot of his omnipotence. But the moment we bring this olive branch God and all heaven come on our side. Pcaco V igh our Lord Jesus Chrirt; and no other ~iud of peace is worth anything. But then we must have that other olive branch, peace with man. Now it is very easy to get up a quarrel. There are gunpowdery Christians all around us, and one match of provocation will sjt them off. It is easy enough to get up a quarrel. But, my brother, don't you think you had better have your horns sawed off? Had you not better make an apology'!' Had you not better submit to a little humiliation? Oh, you say, until that man takes tho first step I will never be at peace with him; nothing will bo done until he is ready to tako tho first step. You are a pretty Christian. When would this world be saved if Christ hod not taken tho first step? We were in the wrong, Christ was in the right?all right and forever right. And yet He took the first step. And instead of going and getting a knotty scourge with which to whip your antagonist; your enemy, you had better get up on the radiant mount where Christ suffered for His enemies, and just take an olive branch, not stripping off the soft, cool, fragrant leaves, but leaving them all on, and then try on them that gosi>el switch. It won't hurt tliom, and it will save you. Peace with God; peace with man. If you cannot tako those two doctrines you are no Christian. Blest be the tic that binds Onr hearts In Christian love; Tho fellowship of kindred minds U llkt to that above. From sorrow, toll and pain, And sin wc shall be free; And perfoct love and frlondshlp rclgn Through all eternity. But my text goes farther. It says: Go lip into the mountain and fetch olive branches and pine branches. Now what is suggested by the pine branches? The pine tree is healthy; it is aromatic; it is evergreen. How often the physician says to his invalid patients: "Go and have a breath of the pines! That will invigorate you," Why do such thousands of people go South every year? It is not merely to get to ? warmer climate, but to get to the influence of the pine. There is health in it, and this pine branch of the text suggests the healthfulnoss of our holy religion; it is full of health, health for all, health for the mind, health for the soul. I know an aged man, who had no capital of physical health. He had had all the diseases you could imagine; he did not eat enough to keep a child alive; he lived on a beverage of hosannas. He lived high, for ho dinod every day with the King. He was kept alivo simply by the force of our holy religion. It is a healthy religion; healthy for the eye, healthy for the hand, healthy for the feet, healthy for the heart, healthy for the liver, healthy for the spleen, healthy for the whole man. It giveB a man such peace, such quietness, such independence of circumstances, such holj equipoise. Oh that we all possessed it, that we possessed it now. I mean that it is healthy if a man gets enough of it. Now, there are some people who get just onough religion to bother them, just enough religion to make them sick; but if 5 man take a full, deep, round inhalation - ii .... ' ' ' V of these pine branches of the gospel arbor, he will find it buoyant, exuberant, undying, immortal health. But this pine branch of my text also suggests the simple fact that it is an evergreen, what does this pine branch care for the snow on its brow? It is only a crown of glory. The winter cannot freeze it out. This" evergreen tree branch is as beautiful in winter as it is in the summer. And that is the characteristic of our holy religion; in the sharpest, coldest winter of misfortune and disaster, it is as good a religion as it is in the bright summer sunshine. Well, now that is a practical truth. For if I should go up and down these . aisles, I would not find in this house fifty people who had had no trouble. But there are some of you who have especial trouble. God only knows what you go through with. Oh, how many bereavements, how many poverties, how many persecutions! How many misrepresentations! And now, my brother, you have tried everything else, why don't you try this evergreen religion? It is just as good for you now as it was in the days of your prosperity; it is better for you. Perhaps som e of ycu feel nlnirvtrf. lilr? Murtkle B&ekie. the fisher man, who was chided one dav because be kept on working, although that very day ho buried his child. They came to him aid said: "It is indecent for you to be mending that boat when this afternoon ; you buried your child." And the fisherman looked up and said: "Sir, it is very easy for 1 von gentlefolks to stay in the house with your ' handkerchiefs to your eyes in grief; but, sir, ought I to let the other five children starve 1 because one of them is drowned? No, sir, we 1 maun work, we maun work, though our > hoarts beat like this hammer." You may havo had accumulation of sorrow ' and misfortune. They come in flocks, they come in herds upon your soul; and yet l have to tell you that this religion can console you, that it can help you, that it can deliver you if nothing else will. Do you tell me that the 1 riches and the gain of this world can console you? How was it with the man who had such a fondness for money that when he was sick he ordered a basin of gold pieces to be brought to him, and he put his gouty hands down among the gold pieces, cooling his hands off in them, and the rattle and rolling of these gold pieces were his amusement and entertainment. Ah, the gold and silver, the honors, the emoluments of this world are a poor solace for a perturbed spirit. You want something better than this world can give. A young Prince, when the children came around to play with him, refused to play. Ho said: I will play only with Kings. And it might be supposed that i you would throw away all other solace before < this regal satisfation, this imperial joy. Ye who are sons and daughters of the Lord Al- ' mighty ought to play only with Kings. The bill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets, 1 Before we reach tho heavenly fields Or walk the golden streets. But my text takes a further step and it says: "Go into the mountain, and fetch olive ' branches, and pine branches, and palm branches." Now, the palm tree was very much honored by the ancients. It hod three hundred and sixty different uses. The fruit was conserved; the sap was a beverage; the stems wore ground up for food for camofa; the base of the leaves was turned into hats, and mats, and baskets; and the leaves were carried in victorious processions; and from the root to the top of the highest leaf there was usefulness. The tree grew eighty-five feet in height sometimos, and it spread broad leaves four and five yards long; it meant usefulness, and it meant victory; usefulness for what it produced, victoiy because it was , brought into celobrations of triumph. And oh, how much we want the palm branches in ( the churches of Jesus Christ at this time! A groat many Christians don't amount to anything. You have to shove them out of the way when the Lord's chariots como along. , We don't want any more of that kind of Christians in the church. : The old maxim says: ' 'Do not put all your eggs into one basket;" but I have to tell you in this matter or religion you had better give your all to God, and then get in yourself. . 'Oh," says someone, "my business is to sell . silks and cloths." Well, then, my brother, : sell silks and cloths to the glory of God. And some one says: "My business is to raise corn and carrots." Then, my brother, raise corn I and carrots to the glory of God. And some . | one says: "My business is to manufacture | horse shoe nails." Then manufacture horse 1 j shoo nails to the glory of God. There is nothing for you to do that you ought to do but for the glory of God. Usefulness is typified by the palm tree. A h, we don't want in the church any more people that are merely weeping pillows, sighing > into the water, standing and admiring their 1 long lashes in .the glassy spring. No wild cherry, dropping bitter iruic. wewantpaiui trees, holding something for God, something ' for angels, something for man. I am tirea ' and sick of this flat, tame, insipid, satin slip- < pared, namby-pamby, b ighty-tighty religion 1 1 It is worth nothing for tnis world, and it is ' destruction for eternity. 1 Give me five hundred men and women < fully consecrated to Christ, and we will take 1 any city for God in three years. Give me ten thousand men and women fully up to the Christian standard; in ten years ten thousand of them would take the whole earth for God. But when are we going to begin? Lodyard, the great traveler, was brought before the Geographical Society of Great Brit- J ain, and they wanted him to make somo ex- 1 plorations in Africa, and they showed liim all the perils, and all the hard work, and all thti exposure, and after they had told him what they wanted him to dom Africa, they I said to him: "Now, Ledyard, whon are you ! ready to start?" Ho said: "To-morrow morning." The learned men were astonished: tney thought he would take wcoks or months to get ready. "Well, now, you toll me you want to be earnest for Christ; you want to be useful in Christian service. When are you going to be^in? Oh, that you ha?e the decision to say: "To-day, now!" Ga now into the mount and gatner tho ,)alm branches. But the palm branch also meant a victory. In all ages, in all lands, the palm branch means victory. We are by nature the servants of ( Satan. Ho stole us, he has his eye on us, he . ; wants to keep us. The word comes from our Father that if we will try to break loose from I this doine of wroner. our Father will help us; ' and som<T day we rouse up, and we look the black tyrant in the face, and we fly at him, and we wrestle him down, and we put our heel on his neck, and we grind him in the dust, and we say, Victory, victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ! Oh wlat a grand thing it is to have sin under foot and a wasted life liehind our backs. "Blessed is he whose transgressiuu is forgiven, and whose sin is covered." "But," says the man, "I feel so sick and worn out with the ailments of life." You are going to be more than conqueror. "But," says the man, ''I am so tempted, I am so pursued in life." You are going to be more than conqueror. "I, who have so many ailments and heartaches, going to be more than conqueror?" Yes, unless you are so self-conceited that you want to manage all the affairs of your lifo yourself, instead or i lotting God manage thern. Do you want, to drive and have God take a back seat? . I Oh, no, you say; I want God to be my leader. ! Well, then, you will be more than conqueror. Your last sickness will come, and the physi- . cians in the noxt room will bo talking about what they will do for you. What difference ' will it make what they do for you? You ait 1 going to bo well, cverlasingly well. And when the spirit has fled the body your friend;! 1 will be talking as to where they shall bury i you. What difference does it make to yo'J i where they bury you? The angel of ] the resurrection can pick you on> of the dust anywhere, and 3 all the cemeteries of the earth are in God'e t care. Oh you aro going to be more than f conqueror. Don't you think we bad better , begin now to celebrate tho coming victory? f In the old meeting-houso at SummervilLe, my father used to lead the singing, and ho Y,aA fl\a AU_fac<liinniu4 fiminff.fnrlr nnH hr ^ would strike it upon his knoe, and thon put . the tuning-fork to his ear to catch the right pitch aud start the hymn. But, friend, don't you think wo had hotter be catch id g the pitch of the everlasting song, tho song of vie- 1 tory when wo shall bo more than conquer era' t Hat? wo not better begin tho rehearsal 011 ? earth? "They shall hunger no more, neither c thirst any more; neither shall the sun light c on them, nor any heat. For the lamb which I is in tho midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall load them to living fountains of 2 water; and God shall wipe away all tears ? from their eyes." City of Eternity, to thy bridal hftlla From this prieon would I flee; Ah, glory! that's for you and me. 1 My text brings up one step further. It 3 says, go forth into the mount and fetch olive branches, and pine branches, and myrtle y branches, and palm branches, and branches o( I thick trees. Isow, you know very well that v a booth or arbor made of slight branches c would not stand. The first blast of the tem- a pest would prostrate it. So then the booth i or arbor must have four stout polee to hold t ; ' V- : % r =s RELIGIOUS READING. _____ WHAT CAN I DO TODAY ? v What can I do today? Not praise to win or glory to attain; Not gold, or ease, or power, or lovo to gain Or pleasure gay; But to impart Joy to some stricken heart; To send a heaven-born ray Of i ope, some sad, despairing Soul to cheer; To lift some weighing doubt; Make truth more clear; Dispel some dwarfing fear; To lull some pain; Bring to the fold again Borne lamb astray; To brjghten life for some one, Now and h re; . This let me do today. up tne arbor or booth and hence for the building of the arbor for this world we must have stout branches of thick trcos. And so it is in the Gospol arbor. Blessed be God that we have a brawny Christianity, not one easily upset. Tho storms of life will come upon us, and we want strong doctrine; not only love, but justice; not only invitation by warning. It is a mighty Gospol; it is an omnipotent Gospel. There are the stout 1 branches of thick trees. I remember what Mr. Finney said in a school house in this Stato. The village ' was so bad it was called Sodom, and it was 1 said to have only one good man in all tho village, and he was called Lot; and Mr. Finney, preaching, described the destruction of Sodom, and the preacher declared that God would rain destruction upon His hearers unless they, too, repented. And tho people in the school-house sat and ground their teeth in anger, and clinched their fists in indignation; but before he was through with his sermon they got down on their knees and cried for mercy while mercy could be found. Oh, it is a mighty Gospel; not only an invitation, bat a warning; an omnipotent truth, stout branches of thick trees. Well, my friends, what I have shown you hero is the olive branch of peace, here is the pine branch of evergreen gospel consolation, nere tho palm tree branch of usefulness and victory, and hero are the stout branches of thick trees, The gospel arbor is done. The air is aromatic of heaven. The leaves rustle with the gladn*,1 T UCOO \JL UUU. WUIO XllkV l/UO Oi LHJl x went out at different times with a fowler to the mountains to catch pigeons; and we made our booth, and we sat in ta"vt booth, and watched for the pigeons io con.:, and we found flocks in the sky, and ifter a while they dropped into the net and we were successrtil So I come now to the door of this gospel booth and Hook out. I see flocks of souls flying hither and flying thither. Oh, that they might come like clouds and as doves to the window. Come into the booth. Come into the booth. TEMPERANCE. DRUNK IN THE STREET. "Drunk, your Worship," the officer said; "Drunk in the street, sir." She raised her head? A lingering trace of the golden grace Still softened the lines of her woe-worn face, Unkempt and tangled her rich brown hair, Yet with all the furrows and stains of care? The years of anguish and sin and despair? The child of the city was passing fair. The ripe red mouth, with lips compressed? The rise and fall of the heaving breast? The nervous fingers, so taper and small, Crumpled the fringe of the tattered shawl, As she stood in her place at the officer's call. She seemed good and fair, she seemed tender and sweet, This fallen woman found drunk in the street. Does the hand that once smoothed the ripple and wave Of that tangled hair lie still in the grave? Is that mother who pressed those red lips to her own Deaf to the pain of their smothered moan? Has the voice that chimed to the lisping prayer No accent of hope for the lost one there, Bearing her burden of sin and despair? Drunk in the street?in the gutter found? From a passionate longing to crush and drown The soul of the woman she might have been? Pa flinrr nflP fVio ixmirrVif nf o foarfnl Hroam * V UiU^ V1X VUw " v 0 Vl. Mr VU WMMM And awake again in the homestead hard by, And wooded mountain that touched the sky; To linger a while on the path to school And catch in the depth of the limpid pool, Under the willow shade, green ana cool, A dimpled face and a laughing eye, And the pleasant word of a passer by. Yemen with sisters and mothers and wives, Have ye no care for these women's lives? Must they starve for the comfort they never speak? Must they ever be erring and sinful and weakStaggering onward with weary feet. Stained in the gutters and drunk in the street? ?Picayune. WISE BUSINESS MEN. The Homiletic Review says: Of twentysix of the leading business nrms and manufacturers of the United States?all rated by Dun's Mercantile Agency as possessing a capital of at least 750,000 dollars?interdewed by us, only one allowed the usa of liquor in his establishment, and then only iuring the dinner hour. Everyone reports that the business interests of the employer ire jeopardized by the dram shop association , Df the employe, and that most cases of inlividual poverty among the latter can be I traced to the saloons. A CRY THAT SHOULD NERVE TO ACTION. The cry of distress that is going up from every block almost in our cities and from almost every township in the country, of families made wretched Dy the terrible drink evil, should nerve to action; and so should the despairing cry of hundreds ef drunkards in our midst, who are to-day utterly helpless, actually helpless (for as one of our most eminent . physicians has said, alcohol is a solvent or tne will), helpless in the presence of open saloons ever increasing in attractiveness and in number?a cry like that of Milton's fallen spirit: "And in the lowest deep, a lower still, That threatens to devour me, opens wide." As Gliidstone said, it is the business of the public to make it easy to do right and hard to do wiong.?Voice. A SUBSTITUTE FOB LIQUOB. Mrs. Hayes always declared that a perfectly adequate substitute for liquor, when needed as a stimulant, could be found in hot milkj and after any cold or wetting she gavo this in place of the wine or whisky which others would have considered necessary. Thus Is, by the way, a custom of Mrs. Cleveland's also, who discovered after the fatigues of the many long and wearisome receptions she was obliged to go through, standing for hours on her feet and shaking bands with hundreds of people, that nothing would restore her so quickly as a cup full of boiling milk brought to her by her maid, and which she drank in little sips as hot as it possibly could be taken. The Washington girls caught the idea from her, and, finding now quickly it helped them after a hard day of calls and social duties, bhev began to substitute it for the various malt preparations they had been in the habit of taking, or the hot wine and water which their maids usually administered when they came in too tired out to dress for their next /?j. mj HTlgHgHHIPnr'r*? J wnuz-JLSCfiiuvi Ml, TEMPERANCE NEWS AND VOTES. Salt Lake City has a Loyal Tcmperance Legion in each ward. A "Woman's Christan Temperance Union is about to be organized in Oklahoma. In Belgium a person arrested for drunkenness is compelled to sweep the public streets for two hours after he gets sober. Tho district and county conventions of the W. C. T. U. now being held throughout the country show uniform prosperity and steady progress in the work. In response to the earnest request of the Washington W. C. T. U., President Harrison ssued an order prohibiting the sale of liquors it the national encampment of the District National Guards at Fort "Washington. The Medical Revimv says: "The deatli-ate in the case of brewers, commercial travjlers and others exposed to the temptation of xequent alcoholic drinking, is six times greater than in all other industries com)ined." The city of Leroy, Kansas, which is quite a ailroad center, was recently the scene of a adical transformation of signs. Through ;he magical influence of Prohibition the ugly idvertisement "beer" has given place to the nore cheerful announcement "beef." Though there is occasionally a liquor user vho appears to enjoy good health and goes on o "ripe old age," he is no more to betaken is a proof of the general harmlessness of Irink than is the man who stands in the thick rarnage of battle a proof of tho general larinlessness of war. Even mistakes may have a mission. Mrs. tlary C. Leavitt, while lecturing in Japan, poke through an interpreter. On one occalon she was giving statistics and said the onsumption of beer in a certain State was -gallons. The interpreter put it: "Drinkng the beer of a certain State produces conumption." The members of the Maryland State Temterance Alliance at a recent meeting in Baltimore passed a resolution to bring cider rithin the category of strong drinks?intoxiating boverages. The discussion was omewhat heated. One clergyman in the Llliance went so far as to declare that he bought cider was worse than whisky. ?London Christian. OIL YOURSELF A LITTLE. Once upon a time there lived an old gentleman in a large house He had servants and everything he wanted, and yet he was not happy, and when things did not go as hi .. *> wished he was very cross. At last his serv- 1, ants all left him. Quite out of temper, h< went to a neighbor with the story of his dis tresses. "Itseems to me," said the neighbor, sagaciously, "'twould be well for you ti oil you; self a little." 'To oil myself?' "Yes,' and I will explain. Sometime ago one oi ? the doors in my house creaked. Nobody, therefore, liked to go in or out of it One day I oiled its hinges aud it has been constantly used by everybody ever since.*' 'Then you think that I am like a creaking " door?' cried the old gentleman. "How dc you want me to oil myself?' "That's ax easy matter," said the neighbor. "Go home and engage a servant, arid . ; when he does right praisa him. If, on the contrary, he does something, do n<X be cross; < il your voice and your words witt the oil cf love.'' The old gentleman went home, and n< harsh or ugly wr.rds were ever heard in th* house afterward. Everybody should' have f supply of this precious oil, tor every familj is liable to have a creaking hinge in th? shape of a fretful disposition, a cross tamper, a harsh tone, or a fault-fkding spirit.? Selected. "PAT JOHX WILLIAMS." At a prayer-meeting "a >wn j&asr,- a man noted for bis failures to meet business obligations, arose to speak. Tde subject wa?: "What shall I do to be saved?" He commenced slowly to quote the words: "What r 1 shall I do to be saved?" He paused, looked around, and said a^ain: "What filiall I do to be saved?" Again with more solemn ton* he repeated the question of questions; when a voice from the assembly, in clear and distinct tones, replied: "Go and pay Jo'n Williams for that yoke of oxen." The incident stirs up solemn thought. A ~ great many people before they can be saved, or guide others to the Saviour, will have to "go and pay John Williams" the money they honest y owe him. Shrewd trick-.tej* in the marts of the' world are not shrewd enough to be dishonest at heart and retain the favor of God, who "loves purity in the ' inward parts." Neither can a hope Of the world to come bs like a sheei-anchor in the -J soul of any one wh) robs God by being dishonest to bis fellow-man. Thousands read no other Bible than the lives of those who pr..fess to be following' its precepts in their daily lives. Tue greatest need of the church is true, pare, upright living?"living epistles, known an'i read of all men." The square man is the best shape. The tree is knowu bv i s fruit "Go and pay John Williams.*'?Mid-Continent. ' , ' r' THE TONIC OF TRUST. When our divine Master says to us ,4Cast \ > v your care on Me," He does not release us iy,' from legitimate duty or the joy of doing it. v ' He aims to take the needless lire out of us by taking iuful anxiety out of our hearts, and putting the tonic of trust in ite place. Thi? glorious doctrine of trust is a wonderfully restful one to the overloaded. For let us remind ourselves again that it is not honest work that usually breaks God's children down. Work strengthens sinew, promotes appetite and induces wholesome sleep. The ague fit of worry con umes the strength, disorders ino nerves uuu wuuura oirm^ refreshing slumber. A life consecrated to Christ, that oils all its joints with cheerful faith and tones lt? blood with the iron of its promises, never grows pale in the cheek or crippled in ite 5ait. Look at that glorious old gia it of esus Christ who dre v the O spel cl ariofc from Jerusalem to Rome, and had "tho care of all the churches" on His big heart. Ha never complained of being tired. He never chafed His limbs with the shackle of doubt, or loaded one extra ounce of godless anxiety on his brawny shoulder*, and so he marched on to glory (-houtiug. Knowing whom he be ieved, he was only solicitous to do his Master's will, and finish his Master's work; he knew that his strength would be equal to his day until he had won the everlasting crown. Lean on Jesus, and He will rest you. Labor for Jesus, and He will bless you. Live for Jesus, and your soul shall mount up as on an eagle's wing; you shall run and never weary, you shall walk arm in arm with Him and never faint. "Tired? No, not tired! While leaning on His breast My soul with full enjoyment Of His eternal rest." ?Rev. Theodore L. Cuylec. A NEWDCTY. It is pleasant to know that very many of our churches all over the land are rejoicing in an ingathering of new converts. Just here begins a new duty. It is not enough that these converts be brought into the ciiurch. That is really only the beginning. There is need that these converts, the?e young Christians, be trained. For even though the great mission of the church is, instru t on tally, to secur> the conversion of sinners, scarcely less important is the work of the edificati m of the saints. In other words, it is not enough to bring men into the church.but they ought to bctraintd into both symmetry and vigor of Christian chara ter. The ten ency, however, is for us to be content with getting converts into the church. We are inclined to think th it then the work is done. And yet the fact is that very much remains to be done. "What a large proportion ot the members of our churches are inefficient ! They cannot be depended upon for any service. In the judgment of charity tl ey are to b account d as Christians, but they do almost noth ng to advance the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom. They give very little, and they put forth small Sersonal efforts. They have a name to livei, ut they are dead. One reason lor this state of things in them is, very likely, that they were not trained into activity on their first entrance into the church. They were rejoiced over as so much gain from i he ranks of the world. But having been gathered into the church they were left to take care of themselves. "" ' ' Knf fho h'nin. ltlO rejoicing was nunnui^u, in? ought to have accomp uiied it. Pracically the best thing to do is to set these converts to work, each according to his capacity. There is plenty of work to be done in any church. There are abundant oppor I unities of usefulness everywhere. Religious aciivity need by no means be confined to distinctively religious meetinga There is call for the use of talents of every sort in Christian service. What a gr eat gain it will be for tlie church of Christ in our land if the thousands who have recently become enrolled among its active members shall b j trained into habits of effective usefulness! Let them be so trained. Therefore let pastors and church / oflic rs and all older Christians roaliza their responsibility and address themselves to the work. ?Messenger. AX ORIENTAL LEGEND. The San Francisco Chronicle says: "There is an oriental legend to the effect that an evil spirit once obtained the mastery over a man and gave him his choice as to whether he would get drunk or rob a house or commit a murder. The man, thinking to choose the least of the evils, selected intoxication; but, says the legend, when he had become intoxicated he committed both the other crimes. There is a good deal of philosophy in the story. It illustrates the cunning of the evil genius as well as the folly of the human being, and is, in a measure, an answer to the not unusual argument which seeks to excuse one from the consequences of his own acts because he was drunk."