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BIS FIRST EASE _AND LAST fTl^e ^tory of a YoUng "Sar\?7.:n -c r?>ter, irv rmou j-ur l^aper. BY SYDNEY GRUNDY. chapter nr. Victor D'Aubry pot rapidly over th( few miles between CaeD and the Coun de Chauvannes' estate. The faithi'u animal knew that road well, and knev moreover that his master was always ii a hurry when he went in that direction "When the servant op* ned the door o the drawing-room to him Victor stoo< for a moment on the threshold, unde elded, racked with terrible snguish. Hilegs seemed to give way under him, ant he felt as if he would di oj) senseless Near the window snt Count d< <jnauvannes. tie raiseu ueau um looked at Victor with a listless air. ."Tell mademoiselle that Monsieu: D'Aubry is here," said he, beckoning t< the servant. Victor held up his ham for the servant to 6top. "There is n< necessity to disturb mademoiselle,* h< eaicL "I must even ask you not to tel her that I am here. I wish to speak t< you alone, monster." The Count looked at the young mai In surprise, but Victor pretended not tc notice it. "Monsieur," he began, "the matter that brings me here to-day if very serious. I have resolved to applj for a new trial for a man who was convicted twenty years ago, and who maintains that he is innocent. You know th( man?you gave him a character at th< trial." "What was tho individual'6 name?1 asked the Count, listlessly examining his finger tips. "Michel Gouillard!" Victor bad sat down with his back tc " - 4.? K*. *k/v 1Anf v.o no aI tue llgnb, bW lib lu iOt kiiu iaou iuyo w the sinking sun fall upon the Count'f face. He looked at him intently as he pronounced the man's name. The Count did not budge, not a muscle of his face moved. "Oh, yes," h< Said, "I remember. It is a very ole Btory indeed, my dear D'Aubry, ane assuredly the poor devil was guilty." "Then you really do believe "in th? man'8 guilt?" "Why, he admitted it himself," urged the Count "And come to think, it was your father who wrung the confessioc . from him. I recommend you to let thai Bad matter rest There is no chance ol reversing the verdict." "I do not think so," replied Victor, ir a grave tone of voice. "Gouillard insists that he has proof of his innocence. But I am not particularly anxious t* take up the affair, and if you reallj thinlr there is no chance of a favorable issue I will tell the man to go and see one of my colleagues." The Count fixed bis cold and piercing glance on Victor's mind as if trying tc read his inmost thoughts. That, at an} rate, was the young barrister's inter* pretation of the swift, hurried glance. "Look here," said De Chauvannes al last, "send Gouillard to me. I will question him and turn him inside out, and after that I am suro he will nol dare to maintain his innocence. Beaides, I happen to know certain detaile of the affair which " The Count stopped short and relapsed into silence. "And I, too, Monsieur," began Victor, "happen to know certain details whict make Gouiilard's innocence as plain aE daylight to me. It was said that he killed Viscount de Varville because th latter was the lover of his wife. I know that is false. The woman whom Vis count de Varville was in love with wae not Huguette Gouillard." The Count started from his chair as il moved by a violent galvanic shock. "And what of that?" ho burst out. "What of that, end what more do you know? Speak out! "W ho was the mistress of the Viscount de Varville?" Victor hesitated for a moment, and then rising and meeting the Count's terrible look without flinching, he said calmly, "It was the Countess De Chauvannes, Monsieur?" Count De Chauvannes received the blow without drawing a muscle, but a deep palloi overspread his face. "I will say all that I came to say, Monsieur," continued Victor, solemnly. "I have in my possession a letter from the Countess to Monsieur de Varville. This letter has been the flash of light ning wnereoy x reau me innocence oj that unfortunate wretch, Gouillard. "After that I began to cast about foi the probable author of the Viscount'? murder, of Hugueite Gouillard's death by poison, ana the evidence pointed clearly to one and the same man, which man is no one else but you, Monsieur do Chauvannes." "Oh, indeed! You came to that conelusion, Monsieur," said Chauvannes in a voice filled with aDger, ready to burst liko a thunderclap. "Do you agreo with me now that I had better give up this case and confide the documents to another barrister?" asked Victor. The Count's lace turned somewhat more livid still. Suddenly facing D'Aubry he blurted out: "Well, suppo e it were so, Monsieur' Suppose the Viscount de Varville inflicted the most cruel injury upon md that one man can inflict upon another, who would dare blame me for my revenge?" "But in order to get that revenge you have had a poor woman assass.nated, nn innocent man thrown into prison " Count do Chauvannes shuddered and turned away his head, but in a moment he had mastered his feelings. "I ask you once more," said he in a curt and indifferent tone, "to senj Gouillard to me. I will settle the mischief with him. He wants money; he ehall have it! As to my wife, she was un'aithful to me and I punished hei lover. But you understand well enough, Monsieur D'Aubry, that at the very moment' you at e about to marry jraj daughter," it is your duty to destroj every trace of that sad story. Give m< that letter!" "You evidently misunderstand me, Monsieur,"said Victor. "Michel Goull lard does not ask money. He wants ' his name cleared from dishonor, th< ignomyof the convict prison wiped fron his brow! I intend to help him; I will not bo your accomplice. If necessary, ] will be your accuser. True, I love youi -3 - ? ? l_ i- _ _ ? ? . ./.I* r> i V> n f ^ nt/Vill/1 ?* /.. Cl&Uglll/th, bU IlJUUIi ou uiau jl nvuiu jav fer death to giving her up. But then is a voice that speaks louder than evei my love. It is the voice of conscience Monsieur, to an extent T share the re eponsibiJlty of this terrible crime with you, for my father, smitten with a brain disorder, In his senseless zeal torturec this poor wrotch into a confession of s crime he never committed. Now yoi Will understand that I havo a duty tc perform, and I swear to you that I wil not fail to do so. I will Rive you til to-morrow to determine what course you intend to pursue." CHAPTER IV. It was still very early when, on th< following n>o:ning, a servant came t< announco t> Victor that somebody wished to soe him, and to the question inp glance of the young barrist' i, th< man said, in a low voice: "It i3 Made moi^e:le de Lhuuvannes." "Marcelline!" exclaimed Victor, turn t ' / I mi y ,uiuv.. /> ' "wnjcn man is s" onb blse but you.? | rag-Very paio ana rushing fo the dooi of the back stair-case, on which his ' room opened. \ A lady closely veiled entered the room quietly, evidently much ex hausted, for she dropped into the first chair within her reach. Victor flung J himself on his knees before her. He Aid not dare guess the truth, and still J he knew why Maroelline, pale and ; trembling, had come to him at such an ; near. rru xoir tnartnooocrne wuncsu ro play his last trump, and that he had been base enough to enlist in his doJ fense this pure, chaste soul. ' Mareelllne made an effort to master the emotion that shook her whole frame. ; She flung her arms around Victor's ' neck, and with a voice broken with 1 Bobs, murmured: "Oh, Victor, Victor! ' I know everything." 1 "What!" he exclaimed, "your father has told you " "Everything," replied Marcelline, j "everything." "But it can't be," said Victor, revolt, Ing at the idea. "I tell you he has been absolutely { pitiless; my dearest recollections, my most cherishod affeotions, my modesty as a young girl, he trampled everythina j ander feet: Tou may weH pride'yourjelf on what you have done. You have ' tilled me." And she dropped her head ' sn her breast with a gesture of harrowing despair, while her sols welled forth juain as they did during the whole of ! the night. , Victor stood like one petrified, dumbstricken, finding no word of comfort for her. But gradually the storm that was sweeping over Marcelline soon subside J, . and Victor made haste to console and 1 lomfort her with the assurance of his ! love and devotion. 1 "You aro kind," she murmured, "to ' try and soothe the terrible pain he f jaused me; now be kind to the end and give up this fatal idea of involving my father in this trial." "But, Marcelline, you know that one Innocent man has been convicted in his stead." "Oh, if you love me," she murmured, 1 "would you fling my life, my future, in the scale against the interests of a stranger, whom the merjest accident I brought to your door?" i "I see, Marcelline," replied Victor gravely, "that your father has not told you everything." An/1 fKan ho Kftr of fVift nftrh hia own father had executed in the drama. 1 Ho pointed out to her that he would bo the basest of men and unworthy of her affections if he refused to aid the poor wretch who had come to ask him for it ' "Besides, can you not see that it is in your and my father's interests that I must undertake this case? If I refuse he will consult another lawyer,who will assuredly not have the same motives in conducting tho case cautiously. Your mother's name " "Stop! stop! Victor, say no morel My poor mother," sobbed the young girl. 1 "You see, therefore, that we must avoid such a scandal at any cost," said Victor gently, but firmly. "And, in order to do this, he who is snost guilty must sacrifice himself." "Whatdo you meau?" "I mean this. Marcelline," exclaimed Victor solemnly,"your father had an accomplice; you know her at least by 6ight?leannette, 'The Hag' they call her.' The creature is devoted to him, body and soul. The brunt of the charge will probably recoil on her?I mean tho poisoning of Huguette. Your father will only have to answer for the death of Viscount de Varville, and the extenuation of the deed will be found in his wrath at the injury done him. We will find a barrister who will conduct the de fense in that sense, and who will keep vour mother's name as much as possiI ble out of the case. Tell him all this, tell him instead of laying the blamo at my door, he ought to thank Heaven that the case fell into my hands." ISliUM-'acrifice you named?" # "Is that the Count de Chauvannes snail instantly quit France." "And that the Count de Chauvagnes will never do!" exclaimed that gentleman pushing open the door where he had been listening, antf striding into the room. "Father!" gasp3d Marcelline, turning whiter than the ?own that" she wore. "Yes, your father," blurted out the Count, "come to accompany you home. And as for you, sir," he continued, famine Victor with flashing eye. "from this day Iorwara everytntng is at an end between you and this young lady. From this day forward, you will not set , eyes on her again. If you make the Blightest attempt to speak to her, if you attempt to enter my jiark or my house, l will shoot you like a common thief." "I know that the idea of a murder does not frighten you,Monsieur," sneered Victor, "but allow me to tell you that your threat does not frighten me in the least. I This lady is my aflianced wife before God. I swear to you that she shall be my wife before the world and that the i obstacles which you may place betweeD I us will only have the effect of increasing our mutual affection." "My authority over my daughter ie 1 nothing to you, I suppose?" yelled the Hnnnt. nomine? closer to Victor and as suming a threatening attitude. "The law fixes a limit to the author' Ity of parents over their children," rei plied Victor, in a calm but ironical tone, ! "and that limit will soon be reached." "The law, the law," hissed Do Chaff, vannes, contemptuously. "I have nevei known any other laws than my own i will. For whom do you take me? If I : had ever given you the hope of being I united to my daughter?though such a I marriage might be considered as a mesI alliance?it is because I took you to be i a man of honor, who would not suffci all thoso lawyers to molest me for a lot i of old and forgotten stories; but ini stead of defending me you have become . roy accuser! Henceforth we aro stran Rers, enemies if you like It better. ] i have warned you. You will have to i give up Marcellino or that ridiculous I lawsuit." 1 "Neither the one nor the other," said 1 ^Iptor^ calmly. "Mademoiselle de : Chrtuvannes will be my wire, ana Mlctio: ' Gouillard's name will be reinstated iu 1 public opinion. And now, monsieur, a? * ? s nl (i tt fVi a ar\t you < ntereu my uuuoo v?w oj/j and the cavesdroppor, I order you tc leave it instantly. This interview is al i an end. Go, Marcelline; trust me and tear nothing." I "You cannot insult me, plebeian!* growled the Count, as ho turned away, leading his daughter by the Band. Victor had built upon the Count accepting hits terms, and now that they had be.n .rejected with a show of right eous Indignation, the young lawyer saw that he must change his plan of attack. To 6ave Marcelline, he must not make puTJlic the damning intrigue between her mother and De varvuie. ne musi ask for a revision of G'ouillard's trial upon other evidence. What should it be? Shutting him=olf up in his workroom, he deliberated for several hourq upon a new problem of acting, and while so occupied his servant announced that a client desired to see him. It was Michel Gouillnrd?not tho wretched-looking vagabond who a short weok ago had crept like a felon, which he had just ceased to bo, into Victor's office, but a clean and soberly clad man of 50, pale but calm and self-possessed. In well-chosen language ho spoke, his heart-felt thanks for that devotion to his cause which had not only rescued his daughter from a life of shame, bul had procured employment lor him, and in the meantime supplied bis most pressing wants. Tho young lawyer smiiea ana motioned Michel to bo seated. "Do you not think," he queried, "thai 'The Hag' played an important part in this busiaess?" "I am thoroughly convinced she did, monsieur," answered Gouillard. "She was always playing the spy about my place. And she it must have been who look from the cupboardthe._lij?tle carbine which I had not used for the Iasi three years, and which wa9 found aftei the crime; and she it was who poisoned my dear wife. I'm certain of it." "We must make her confess," said the lawyer, in an undertone. "Ah, if we only could; but how?" asked Michel. "Did you not tell me," continued Victor, "that your daughter Esther is mar* velously like her mother?" "As like as it is possible for two human beincs to be." "Good!" eaid Victor; "to-night we'll 11 w\ \ ; ii in i iiiiI "TRUST ME AND FEAR NOTHING." li*ve Esther make a visit to Jeannotte, The Hag,'who has not seen her since she was a babe, and claim to be Huguette'g Spirit. Terrified by the apparition, the beldam will ory out for mercy, and then Esther may charge her with having sent an innocent man to prison, and call upon her to make lull confession, if she would save her Immortal 60ul from gehenna." The plan succeeded admirably, and when Esther exclaimed in a threatening voice, "If you try to hide a single thing, if 7*vu endeavor to lell a single lie, I will como back to you. Do you hear? Do you hear? I will como back," "The Hag," beside herself with fear, uttered a stilled yell and sank co the cround. Tho trial of Jeannette, "The Hag, "was rushed through with a haste hardly in keeping with judicial dignity. The authorities suddenly admitted their error in VinA-incr r>nrifii?rned Michel Gouillardtx a felon's cell for twenty long years foi i crime he never committed. With a devotion bordering upon religious zeal "The Hag" took upon hersell the double crime for which Michel Gouiliard had been convicted, and the Count de Cliauvannes in his testimony, wit* oo quiver upon his lips and no tremoi in his voice, spoke of the woman's "fanatical devotion to him," and besought the mercy of the jury for this old familj servant. A few days after, after entering upon her term of ten years solitary confinement, "The Hag" was found dea:l in hei btjj. True to his threat, the Count now resolved to put as many barriers as possible between his daughter and Victor D'Aubry, the first being to leave France for Southern Europe, taking his daughter with him, in hopes that new scenes I ami noTO and the clitter I 3f court life might lead her to format the Olain country gentleman. But a year later, by a fall Trom hl9 horse while hunting, his leg was broken, and amputation became necessary. The Count survived the amputation but a fortnight, and Marcelline, returned to France and shut herself up in the old chateau with no other companion th m an aged relative for whom she had sent. She never went beyond the entrances of the park, her longest walks being to the game-keeper's lodgo, where, at her express wish, Michel Uouillard and his daughter had taken up their quarters. Victor nnd his mother paid her constant visits. The past was never mentioned, all their thoughts dwelt upon the future. Finally, at tho expiration of a twelvemonth, the fair chatelaine and the magistrate soon wore united in matrimony by the village priest in the family chapel. The marriage took place at midnight, before the altar Hooded with light and SHE /IANK TO THE OROUNU smothered with flowers, the witnesses being Jule ' Dupin, a schoolmate, and Michel Gouillard, the whilom convict in name only, who wa9 Victor's flrst and lust client. |THE END. | Copyright, l>y tiie Autiiors Aiuanuu. In the Slam*. Mrs. Dothetown?"Poor, dear child! Are your parents dead?" Tenement Tommy?"I t'ink pap is. Hitn an' mai wuz a flghtin' when I left, an' gee, shf wuzn't doin' a t'ing t* l>m."?Ohk State Journal. A handsome woman is a jewel; a pond woman io a treasure.?Sanide. . . ' . i V kiH.r.S'''- . ' '-J .: .. ". - ..... ' TYD T A T M A CIVV GTTPMHAT LU.U lauiiiavjijuo uiiiuiivi^i SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED DIVINE. Subject: Small Annoyances?"We Should Strive to Overcome the Troubles of lilfe?With the ' Help of God'n Grace Petty Grievances Become Ulcssin^n. [Copyright, Lonis Klopsch, 1899.1 Washington, D. C.?This sermon by Dr. Talmago deals with a subject which appeals to all clit99tis and conditions of men. His text is Deuteronomy vii., 20, "The Lord thy God will 9end the hornet." In my text the hornet flies out on its mission. It is a species of wasp, swift in its motion and violent in its stin^. Its touch is torture to man or beast. Wo have all Been ine cuiue ruu umiuwiug uuuoi mo uui of its lancet. In boyhood we used to stand cautiously looking at the globular nest bung from tho troo branch, and while we were looking at the wonderful covering we were struck with something that sent us shrieking away. The hornet goes In swarms. It has captains over hundreds, and twenty of them alighting on one man will produce certain death. My friends, when we are assaulted by great behemoths of trouble we become chivalric, and we assault them. We get on the high mettled steed of our courage, and we make a cavalry chaige at them, and"if God be with us we come out stronger and better than when we went in. But alas for these insectiie annoyances of life, these foes too small to shoot, these things without any avoirdupois weight, the gnats and the midges and the flies ana tbe wasps and the hornets! In other words, it is the small, stinging annoyances of our life which drive us out and use us up. In tho best conditioned life for some grand and glorious purpose God has sent the hornet. I remark, in the flrst place, that these small, stinging annoyances may come in the shape of a nervous organization. Feo pie who are prostrated under typhoid fevore or with broken bones get plenty of sympathy, but who pities anybody that is nervous? The doctors say and the family Bay and everybody says, "Ob, she's only a little nervous; that's all!" The sound of a heavy foot, the harsh clearing of a throat, a discord In music, a want of harmony between the shawl and the glove on the same person, a curt answer, a passing slight, the wind from the east, any one of ten thousand annoyunces, opens the door for the hornet. The fact is that the vast majority of the people in this country are overworked, and their nerves are the first to give out. A great multitude are under the strain of Leyden, who, when he was told by his physician that if he did not stop working while he was in such poor physical health he would die, responded, "Doctor, whether I live or die, the whsel must keep going round." These sensitive persons of whom I speak have a bleeding sensitiveness. The flies love to light on anything raw; and these people are like the Canaanites spoken of in tho text or in the context?they have a very thin covering ?n/1 ot-A vnlnamhU of nil nftlnta "Anrl thn Lord sent the hornet." Again, the small Insect annoyances may come to us In the shape of friends and acquaintances who are always saying disagreeable things. There are some people you cannot be with for half an hour but you feel cheered and comforted. Then there are other people you cannot be with for five minutes before you feel miserable. They do not mean to dlBturb you, but they sting you to the bone. They gather up all the yarn which the gossips spin and retail It. They gather up all the adverse criticisms about your person, about your business, about your home, about your church, and they make your ear the funnel into which they pour it. They laugh heartily when they tell you, as though it we.e a good joke, and you laugh, tocv?outSlde. The small insect annoyances of life sometimes. come in the shape of local physical trouble which does not amount to u positive prostrntion, nut wmcn bothers you when you want to feel the best. Perhaps it is a sick headache which has been the plague of your lire, and you appoint some occasion of mirth orsoclality or usefulness, and when the clock strikes th? hour you cannot make your appearance. Perhaps the trouble is between the ear and the forehead in the shape of a neuralgic twinge. Nobody can see it or sympathize with it, but just at the time when you want your intellect clearest and your disposition brightest you feel a sharp, keen, disconcerting thrust. "The Lord sent the hornet." , Perhaps these small insect annoyances will come io the shape of a domestic irritation. The parlor and the kitchen do not always harmonize. To get good service and keep it is one of the great questions of the country. Sometimes it may be the arrogance and inconsiderateness of employers; but, whatever be the fact, we all admit there are these iDsect annoyances winging their way out from the culinary department. If the grace of God be not in the heart of the housekeeper, she cannot maintain her equilibrium. The men come heme at night and hear the story of these annoyances and say, '-Oh, those home troubles are very little thingsl" They are small, small as wasps, but they sting. Martha's nerves were all unstrung when she rushed in asking Christ to scold Mary, and there arc tens of thousands of women who are dying, stung to death by these pestiferous domestic annoyances. "The Lord sent the hornet." These small insect disturbances may also como in the shape of business irritations. There are men here who went through the 24th of September, 1869, and the panics of 1873 and of 1893 without losing their balance who are every day unhorsed by little annoyances?a clerk's ill manners, or a blot of ink on a bill of lading, or the extravagance of a partner who overdraws his account or the underselling by a business rival, or the whispering of store confidences in the street, or the making of some little baa debt wuicli was against your judgment, but you wanted to please somebody else. It is not the panics that kill the merchants. Panics como only once in ten or twenty years. It is the constant din of these everyday annoyances which is sending so many of our best merchants into nervous dyspepsia and paralysis nud the grave. When our national commerco fell flat on its face, these men stood up and felt almost defiant, but their life is going away now under the swarm of these pestiferous annoyances. "The Lord sent the hornet." The naturalist tells us that a wasp some times has a family of 20,000 wasps, and it does seem as if every annoyance of your life brooded a million. By tbe help of (iod, to-day I want to show you the other side. The hornet is of no use? Oh, yes! The naturalist tells us they are very important In the world's economy. They kill spiders, and they clear the atmosphere. And I really believe God sends tho annoyances of our life upon us to kill tho spiders of the soul and to clear tho atmosphere of our skie?. These annoyances are sent onus, I think, to wake us up from our lethargy. There is nothing that makes a man so lively as a nest of "yellow jackets," and I think that those annoyances are intended to persuade us of the fact that this is not a world for us to stop in. If we had a bed of everything that was attractive and soft and easy, what would we want of lnfliven? We think that tho hollow tree sends the liornot, or we may think that the devil ceuds the hornot. I want to correct your opinion. "Tim T.nril Sfllit tlifi liornfit." Then I think these annoyances como on us to cultivate our pationce. In the gymnasium you And upright parallel bars with holes over each other for pegs to be put in. Then the gymnast take a peg in each baud, and he begins to ciirab, 0110 inch at a time or two inches, and getting his strength cultivated, reaches after awhile th& coiling. And it seems to mo that theso annoyances iu life aro a moral gymnasium, each worriment a peg with which we are to climb higher and higher In Christian attainment. Wo all lovo to see patience, but it cannot bo cultivated in fair weather. Patience is a child of tbe storm. If you had everything desirable and there win nothing moro to get, what would you want witli patience? The only time to cultivate it is when you are lied about and sick and half dead. "Oh," you say, "if I only had the circnmstances of some well to do man I would be patient too." You might as well say, "If "it were not for tills water, I would Bwim," or, "I could shcot this pun It it were not for the cnrtrldgp." When you stand chin deep in annoyances Is tlio time for you to srvlm out toward the great headlands of Christian attainment, so as to "know Christ and tin* po>.vi;r of Ills *oeurrection and to h.ivo fellowship with His sufferings." Nothing but the furnnoe will ever burn ri out of us the clinker and the slag. I have .1 formed this theory in regard to small annoyances and vexations. It takes just so much trouble to flt us for usefulness II and for heaven. Tbe only question Is whether wo shall take It In tbe bulk ot pulverized and granulated. Here is one man who takes it in the bulk. His back is g broken or his eyesight put out, or some other awful calamity befalls him, while the vast majority of people take the thins piecemeul. Which way would you rather have it? Of course, in piecemeal Better have five aching teeth than one broken ^ jaw, better ten fly blisters than an ampu- 0 tation, better twenty squalls than one 0 cyclone. There may bo a difference of v opinion as to allopathy and homos- ^ pathy, but in this manner of trouble ^ 1 Hue horacKpathic doses, small pellets B of annoyance rather than some knock- a down dose of calamity. Instead ot |( the thunderbolt give us tlx? nornet. If n you have a bank, you would a great deal rather that fifty men would come in with j( checks less than $100 than to have two depositors come In the same day, each waut- ^ ins J])9 -1110,000. in tuts latcer case you Q cough and look down to the floor and you j look up to the ceiling before you look into a tbe safe. Now, my friends, would you not ? rather have these small drafts of annoy- ' ance on your bank of faith than some all ^ staggering demand upon your endurance? _ But remember that little as well as great 0 annoyances equally require you to trust in r Christ for succor and for deliverance from n impatience and Irritability. "Thou vrllt -j keep him in perfect peace whose mind is staid on Thee." c I go into n sculptor's studio find see him r shaping a statue. Ho has a chisel in one t hand and a mallet in the other, and ho t gives a very centle stroke?click, click, 0 clickl I say,." Wby don't you strike bard- j or?" "Oh," he replies, "tbat would shat- f ter the statue. I can't do It that way. I jj must do It this way." So he works on, and 0 after awhile 'the features come out, and j, everybody that enters tbe studio is { charmed and fascinated. Well, God has 3 your soul under process of development, and It is the little annoyances and vexa- ? tions of life tbat are chiseling out your [ immortal nature. It is click, click, click! ( I wonder why some great providence does v not come anu wuu uuo piojjqio juu g for heaven. Ah, no! God says that is not i the way, and so He keeps on by strokes of E little vexations until at last you shall be a [ glad spectacle for angels and for men. , You know that a large fortune may be 2 spent in small change, and a vast amount g of moral character may go away in small { depletions. It is the little troubles of life T that are having more effect upon you than c groat ones. A swarm cf locusts will kill a grain-field sooner than the incursion of ^ three or four cattle. You say, "Since I lost } my child. 9ince I lost my property, i nave g been a different mail." But you do not rec- ? ognize tbe architecture of little annoy- r ances that are hewing, digging, cutting, ( shaping, splitting and interjol.ning youi e moral qualities. Rats may sink a ship. One j] lticifer match may send destruction through j a block of storehouses. Catherine de' Medici got her death from smelling a poison* a ous rose. Columbus, by stopping aud aslt- j lng for a piece of bread and a drink of water at a Franciscan convent, was led tc e the discovery of a new world. And there t is an intimate connection between-trifles r and immensities, between nothings and r everytbtngs. t Now, be careful to let aono of those an- 3 noyances go through your soul unar- o raigned. Compel them to administer to t yourspirtitual wealth. The scratoh of a t sixpenny nail sometimes produces lock* t jaw, and the clip of a most infinitesimal P annoyance mny damage you forever. Do v not let any annoyance or perplexity come p across your soul without its making you better. .g A returned missionary told me that a c company of adventurers rowing up the e Ganges, were stung to death by flies t that infest that region at certala sea* ( sons. Tbe earth has been strewed with || the carcasses of men slain by insect |i annoyances. The only way to get pre- 3 pared for the great trouble of life is to j conquer these small troubles. Wuat 1 would you say of a soldier who refused g to load his gun or to go into tbe conflict 3 bccause it was only a skirmish, saying: e I am not going to expend my ammnni- p tion on a skirmish. Wait until there q comes a goneral engagement and then j you win see uow courageous i am anu wuai t battling I will do?" The general would say to such a man, "If you are not faithful In a f. skirmish, you would bo nothing in a gen- e eral engagement." Ana I have to tell you, C 0 Christian men, if you cannot apply the t principles of Christ's religion on a small j scale you will nevor bo able to apply them on a large scale. If I had my way with o you, I would have you possess all pos- p slble worldly prosperity. I would have V you each one u garden, a river flowing li through it, geraniums and shrubs on t the sides and the crass and flowers as beautiful as though the rainbow had g fallen. I would have you a house, a i splendid mansion, und the beds should be p covered with upholstery dipped in the set- v ting sud. I would have every hall in your E house set with statues and statuettes, and then I would have the four quarters of the ( globe pour in all their luxuries on your ii table, and you should have forks of silver i and knives of gold, inlaid with diamonds y and amethysts. Then you should each one |j of you have the finest horses and your pick of the equipages ol the world, 'men I o would have you live 150 yoars, and you ji should not have a pain or an ache until the a last breath. t "Not each one of us?" you say. Yep, each one of you. "Not to your enemies?" |j Yes. The only difference I would make d with them would be that I would put a little eatra gilt on thoir walls and a little ii extra embroidery on their slippers. But, li you say, "Why does not God give us all fa these things?" Ah! I bethink myself. He 1 is wiser. It would make fools and sluggards t' of us if we had our way. No man puts his best picture in the portico or vestibule of 3 his house. God meant this world to be II only the vestibule of heaven, that great gallery of the universe toward which we t are aspiring. We must not have it too d good in this world or wo would want no a heaven. r Polycnrp was condemned to be bur%ed to f death. The stake was planted. He was fastened to it. The fngots wore placed I: around him, iho fires kindled, but history d tells us that the-flames bent outward like ji the canvas of a ship in a stout breeze, so ti that the flames, instca'd of destroying 3 Folycnrp. wero only a wall between bim f and his enemies. They had actually to de- b stroy him with the poniard. The flames t would not touch him. Well, my hearer, ti I want you to understand that by God's t Kraco tbo flames of trial, instead of con- b suming your sou), are only going to bo a p wall of defense and a canopy of blessing. God is golnpr to fulfill to you the blessings p and the promises, as He did to Polycarp. t "When thou walkcst through thofire, thou t slialt not be burned." Now you do not un- t derstand, but you shall know hereafter. In n heaven you will bless God even for the r hornet. t . I A MODEL PASTOR IN OHIO Ii Drawl HIk Salary Rut Expends It and 1' More on Ills Congregation. It is unusual to find an oil speculator in the pulpit. It Is equally unusual to find a j pastor who returns to his congregation each year his entire salary and adds to the elft a slice of his nrivate income besides. Andorcr, Ashtabula County, Ohio, has such * a prcacher iu the Rev. E. T. Coyle, who is v also an orator, poet nn<l diplomat. Under c liis churgo tho attendance at the evening s services in the Andover Congregational P Church has increased from some twentvAve to au audience ranging from 300 to 400, 81 and the average service is attended by one- h third of tho population of Andover. Mr. Covle prefers the rural town to tho c crowded city, and therefore went to the s church at Andover, which can only alTord P to pay 6730 per annum. He believes I11 the t( principle Mint the laborer is worthy of his hire and doe3 not refuse to rocelve his salary, but expends it upon the church and congregation, and other denominations P th in his own share in his liberality. Several years ago he became interested in oil speculations In West Virginia, which d brought him large returns and bis business is large. The Moravian* In SoatH Africa. Tho .Moravians will expend $80,000 in n establishing new mission stations in South d Africa, on the Mosquito coast, in Nicaragua 1 and in Labrador. f' a Tlio Kciiciou of the Jcclamler*. p About 7J,G0:) pit-sons. which about the a on tire population of I<;claucl. art> mea)Mere' H #?f the ) ?fitav*u>> I "hi? H [HE SABBATH SCHOOLNTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR OCTOBER 29. abject: P6almi of Deliverance, Pia ixxxv. ana ck?i.-uihuoh cxxvl., 8?Commentary on the Day'i Leaaon. 1. "Thoa hast been favorable." Thoo ast dealt graoiously. It was by the favor f God that Israel got and kept possession f Ganaao, and if He had not continued ery favoruble to them they would have een ruined many times. The bringing ack of their captivity was then an intance of God's favor to them, when It was ccompanled with the pardon of their inlulty. "The captivity of Jacob." This is aturally applied to the return from Babyan; but it suits recovery from any calamty. 2. "Covered all their sins." As Thou iast freely forgiven sin, its offenslvenes? nd abominable nature no longer appear, 'he whole is put out of sight; and as we ,re restored from our captivity the consciences no longer appear. 3. "Taken away all Thy wrath." Thou iast collected all Thy wrath and carried it way with all our iniquities. "Fierceness f Thine anger." The captives might well ejoice that the wrath of God hud been imited, and so they had not been wholly estroyea. 4. "Turn us." Thou hast turned our aptivity, now convert our souls. The Isaelites were not restored from their capIvlty all at once; 50,000 returned under he leadership-of Zerubbabel, B. 0. 536; thers, numbering about 7000, went with !zra, B. C. 45S; others with Nehemlah, B. ). 445; but a great number still remained q Babylonia, Media, Assyria, Egypt and ther parts. The request of the Psalmist 3 to have a complete restoration of all the sraelites from all places of their dlsperion. , 5. "Wilt Thou be angry with us forever?'!ontinuously? Delivered from Babylon he exiles hoped for rest, but, instead, ound increasing distress and anxiety, rhlch to them indicated God's continued oger. Generation after generation had inned and therefore suffered the punish* oent of God. The Psalmist seems to quesion whether God will find it necessary to hus continue, or can it be that each suceedlng generation will not profit by the xamples of others and so bring upon hemselves severe judgments? What hope ras there of better times until Israel became sincerely and thoroughly penitent? 6. "Wilt Thou not revive us again?" We lave Ibng had the sentence of death inourelves, and have feared an utter extinction. W..11 mm* nnflnn ncf Kafrtffl ThflQ? UUil JUUt UUl uiuuu js.%. 11 lu wwtv4w amvvi Ihall we not become once more numerous, ilous and powerful? "May rejoice in'Thee.'Hve us lile, that we may have joy in Thee; 10 Thou wilt have the glory - of it. If God ie the fountain of all our mercies He must >e the centre of all our joys. 7. "Shew us Thy meroy." The cry for aercy always recognizes that judgpent is ieserveti. 8. "I will hear.". Wait and listen with xpectnncy. The Psalmist goes as a prophet o consult the Lord, and having made his equo3t waits an answer from the spirit of irophecy. By declaring what he would do he Psalmist teaches all Israel that they mghtito attentively hearken to the voice >f God and to receive Hlsgraoious declaralonsvand promises in faith and expectaion, and HIS holy precepts and dispansaIons in obedience and submission, and specially that they should wait to know rhat answer God .would return to their irayers. 9. "Salvation is nigh." Ready to be Tanted as soon as there is readiness to reeive. That complete salvation and delivranee, even the redemption of Israel by " it 6 IU 085 111 LI. ll wua mo uuuiiuik vi iud )ld Testament saints that tliough the; Ived not to see that redemption in Jerusaam tor wnioh they waited, yet they wero ure it was nigh and would be welcome to 11 thftt fear Qod. "That glory may dwell a our land." That we may onoe again ee glorious days in our land; may recover ur ancient glory, the tokens of God's presnce wl^h us, the most eminent of which re have now utterly lost. God gives grace ,nd glory. Israel when fully pardoned enoyed peace with God; for where He dwells le manifests His tyorfous power. 10. "Mercy and truth are met together." ind therefore appear as united and co-oprating harmoniously in consequence of tod's glory or majesty again dwelling in he land when the people should become onverted to His fear. 11. "Truth." Responsive to God's great aercy, there shall be man's fruits of good rorks. "Righteousness shall look down," 7nen a people return and adhere to God a duty He will.return to and abide with hem in mercy." 12. "The Lord shall give.? When the -*?? ? .Imallo In AMf InnH fhon t shall yield Its increase; for soul-pros erity will either bring outward prosperity pith it, or sweeten the want ot it. See 'sa. 67:6. 13. "Righteousness shall go before Him.* Jhrist, the Sun of Righteousness, shall irlng us to God and put us in the way hat leads to Him. Righteousness is a surs ;aide, both in meeting Qod and in follow* Qg Him. 1. "The Lord turned again the captivity f Zion." The writer here recalls the reDicing which filled the hearts and mouths f tho Israelites on their return from capivlty, in the midst of the acknowledgesent by Gentiles and Jews that this doIveranco was a wonderful and mighty leed of Jehovah. 2. "Filled with laughter." A laughter of oy in God, not scorn of their enemies. The nathnn lin.fi observed tneir calamity and aii triumplied In it. Jar. 22:3, 9;" Psa. 37:7. Now they could fnot but observe heir deliverance and admire that. 3. "We are glad." The heathen were but pectators, but the people of God spake of t as shares in what God wrought. 4. "As the streams in the south." {The orrents and the brooks in the southern eserts run off and dry up in the summer aonths; but after the periodical rains they eturn again, and the channels are filled or the refreshment of the thirsty traveler. 5. "They that sow in tears." Israel was q captivity for the punishment of theti ogeneracy. God sent them Into captivity ust as gold is put into the fire to be rened. The captives in Babylon were long owing in tears, but nt length were brought orth with joy, and then they reaped the eneflt of their suffering, and brought heir sheaves with tuem to their own laud, a their experiences of thelgoodness of God o them. Thev that sow lu tears of godly orrow shall reap in the joy of n sealed ardon and a settled peace. G. ' Goetli forth and weepeth, bearing ireclous seed." There are tears which are hemsolvos the seed that we must sow; oars of sorrow for sin?our own and others: ears of sympathy and tenderness. The lumber of returned captives was but the emnant of Israel. They were returned o promote the true religion in Canaan, 'hrough their prayers and tears their retbren in Babyion must be reached and aducod to return to God and their own and. DK. WHITEMAN'3 FEAT; teported That. Tin KiUod a Fertile Hybrid I'i?Pon? Dr. C. 0. Whltemaa, heal professor of he Department of Biology at the Uuiersity of Chicago, ha? returned to C'llago from Wood's FIo'I, Miss.. where he uceeeded in raising a fertile hybrid Igeon. This means th? making of an enIrely new spe'les of pigeons, and is a clentiflc achievement which scientists avo declared was impossible. Early in the summer Dr. Whitemau ooped 300 pigeons in wood-iu cajjes and hipped them to Massachusetts He ha=s igeons from everywhere, wild pl<eon* and ime one", and in a Ices a constant study of lioir heredity, life and habits. The mother of the bird was a Japanese jrtle dove and the father a common rou^h igeon. This discovery optms the way to lie forming of a new species by crossing liese two species, which are of entirely Ifferent families. Died at Ajj? of 108. Thomas B. Allen, a veteran of tbree wars nd the oldest citizen In \Ve3t Virginia, lied near Fiemington a few days ago, aged OS years and five months. Mr. Allen's luuer reuuucu iuc ai;o ui i?</. a-icu, wuu pas born in En^la-nl, claimed to have been t Waterloo, and that bo knew Napoleon ersonally. He came to America in 1350 nd served in the Union army, having? en. sted at the age ol seventy. He was uevex tarried. - r. . . - * >W>-'* 7!^Y^' i ?A TEMPERANCE COLUMN, J THE DRINK EVIL MADE MANIFEST; J ' III MAKIV U/AVC r'? Ill mr%i* ? ??n i vi A Warning?The Slate of Immorality That Frevaila In Oar Large Cities Is I/: Blot on Oar ClTllliatloa-Bam Slay* 1 More Than All Oar Wan. 0 heart of youth, I would beseeoh While days are fair and bright; Heed well the troth, I fain would teach, And save your lives from blight, Refuse the wine of ruddy glow, . For poison lies within. A serpent lurlcs Its waves below, -fta At last It bites?like sin. Refuse the oider's tempting snareDeceitful, treacherous thing! Its amber holds an arrow there, ' yfjj And deadly is Its sting. "Daftiaft fkft Kaaw wltAflA lAflmfnff Ann 1 MViUOV kUV MWUt| TT U WOV iVUUilUQ ??*|? Hides bitterness below. In pain and poverty they sup, who drain Its dregs of woe. Spnrn brandy, whisky, rum and gin. --V To tempters, answer NOl Refuse the drinks that lead to sin; > .; >% Refuse the ways of woe. Be pure and goodl Be strong and braTQr *A Make life a noble thing. Look up to llvel Look down to savel Be each la soul a klngl Thus gladly chose the better part,. And choosing be at rest. # t 3 The promise to the pftre in heart, ' ' - 'it w Shall keep you safe and blest. $3 our rispie inreatea uuh. .. Tho immoral condition o' oar great cities m is a blot on oar civilization. The saloon runs the caucus, names the candidate,rob# the publio, and spits on the law, writes \ John G. Woolley, in the Voloe. I read an , tja interview with a New York millionaire the ;yother day, in which he emphasised tbe 'fact, .<.<3 that nearly all the men of affairs, success-' ful business men, and men in professional " & life In oar great cities, were boys that cams from the farm or were reared in tbe small town. He lamented the fact that rich men's sons reared in the city seldom amounted to much. And he wondered why. Well, if '.-i the poor old innooent does not know, I'll' tell nlm why. It. is beoaase tho moral tons U of our great cities is so low, vice Is so open, . ^ so alluring, so tempting; the saloons, with the gaminK-tablo in the rear and the scarlet X;. woman upstairs, are so numerous, tbat It ?, is almost Impossible to raise a boy in the city without sending him to hell. God pity /&8G the tempted boy that walks the streets ot an American city after the fall of night.' War has slain its thousands; ram has slain its tens of thousands. Out the usual ea?l? mate In two, and It wonld require onenun- ; . ^ dred whole trains, ten cars long, with sixty 1 dead bodies in every oar, to carry the remains. It would make a funeral prooes- , sion, hearse following hearse, from Detroit , j to Dubuque, and All a trench with, dead ~,j|9 bodies, end to end, sixty-eight miles long. ? It Ran by Women. \ This is the way a 8tar staff correspondent , tells of his experlenoe In Beattle, Kan., on ,.. JS a day when the thermometer was way up --3 In the shade: "Nearest glass of beer," I Inquired of V sad looking man on the station platform, j ' i| I > He grinned and pointed to a sign up the street whioh said, "saloon." "Closed by order of'the mayor." > V* "What's the trouble?" "Trouble!*" repeated another sad-facedman. "Lord, that Isn't the name for itl" "We've got a lady mayor, lady counoli ...jSrS? and lady olerk. Thej're running things. W.& This town is going to the devil." Afterward, when I met Mayor Elizabeth t-ag Totten, she told me tnat tuts man was mis- taken. The towa had been going to. tha ' ^ devil up to April 4. Bat praise the Lord,.' since that date she thought It had been . going the other way. ''}*s Greatest Carte of the World. Bishop Galloway's message to the Bp*' worth League on the drink traffic was follows: "My creed is mental suasion for thf, -...& man who, drinking, can think, mozal."^^ suaslonfor the drinking man who doesnot '% think, and jail suasion for the trafficker of liquor. No law enforces itself. We may lash ourselves into fary, we may shout and, ' preaoh, but the good Is lostjwhen ire stay; away from the polls. We must demand th? enforcement of the laws. Let citizens of, ' every color, race,politics aud oreed unite ih % the effort against the saloon. Let us unite to seoure, not only the enthronement, but tb? . 5: enforcement of the law that will .save the youth of the country from the greatest curse of the world." The Savage and the Civilized. I A deputation of native chiefs in British. West Africa called on the Governor the ' other day to ask him to prohibit the deadly: ' gin traffic. And the Governor in a labored * /*' argument proved to them that the rfla trafflo was a "vested Interest" In which many of his fellow subjects in England had embarked much wealth. Of course, under. sucb circumstances, the gin trade must be treated with circumspection, even if it did demoralize and ruin thousands of the ?alives in Wost Africa. Now, that was the answer those chiefs got. They represent- v'S ed barbarism; the English Government 'i stood nobly for civilization.?Springfield ,r (Mass.) Republican. The Economic Aapecta. Rev. Dr. Newell Dwltfht Hillis, a suecessor to Henry Ward Beecher, in his book, ?n "A Man's Value to 8ociely," says: "Statistics reckon the average man'e value at 1600 a year. Each worker In wood, Iron or brass stands for an engine or industrial plant worth f10,000, producing ac six per cent., an income of 8600,. The death of the average workman, therefore, ' ; is equivalent to the destruction of a 110,000 '' mill or engine, me ecimuuuu iubs imuugu the non-productivity of 20,000 drunkards " . Is equal to one Gbloago flro Involving two hundred millions." Drink and Pauperism. The New Voice has been gathering somt valuable statistics on this point. To the paupers of the various almshouses throughout the United States clroularfe were sent asking for statistics and facts; 816 officials having in charge 33,245 paupers, of these 7091, or twenty-one per cent.' ;j' were made paupers through intoxicating drink. As there are some 73,015 paupers in all the almshouses of the country, it 19 fair to assume that the numbers in the almshouses there through drink is 37,254,' to support whom the public are heavily taxed. The Crunkde In Brief. The saloon deforms and damns. I If you wish to keep out of debt .keep out i x or tue saloon. . ^ The way to prevent drunkenness Is to destroy the cause. v-Jg Men nre drunkards because boys are ' tempted to drink. Evory true patriot will hit the drink evil whenever he gets a chance. i r If we had a million tongues, we would '&} cry: "Save the children from the curse of alcohol." i When the churches tackle tte drink problem in real earnest it will soon find a solution. Drinking whisky never helped a man on . % me roaa 10 iieareu, uui uuucu iu mo wui< forts of liia home. If we had a million pens every one of them would write: "Train the children to banish the drink fiend." ? -0K Are you satisfied that temperance work Is God's work? Then go ahead and do It, leaving the result to Him. * Public sentiment, if it become strong enough, can crush the saloon. Liqnor * dealers have recognized this fact by uniting in self-defence. The City Council of Oakland, Cal., are going to close all "Family Entrances" to saloons, and will refuse licenses to those who maintain private rooms. ' No tolerance of the rum fiend or any of his agents. As good citizens you can do better work by holplng to deplete the prisons than by paying taxes to enlarge them. Over fifteen brewers in Wisconsin have been for some time defrauding the Government in the matter of paying revenue taxes. Already between 540,000 and t50,000 of back taxes have beoa collected from ibem. . j - . J _ JM