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pr f deTtalmaqes sermon. iUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED DIVINE. /object: Thickening Gloom ? Orowine Old Without Relision a Dismal Pronpect?Connoting SneKMtloni to Thoie Who Have Patneil Life'* Meridian. [Copyright 1HIW.1 Wasittxoto:*, D. C. ? In tins scrm"" t)r. Talmapre discourses upon the invitation Riven to Christ to stay overnipht in the Oriental villase, and makes so"16 con* solatory suggestions. The text is Luke txiv, 29. "Abide with us, for it 13 towara tvening." Two villagers, having concJu"^" their errand in Jerusalem, have /rfarted^out at the city pate and are on .*n .fy Emmaus, the place of ?if' t They go with a sad heart. Jesus, who had been their admiratio* their joy, had been basely massacred and entombed. As, with sad face and bf?fen heart, they pass ot? their a. e^ger accost* them. Thev tell Him their anxieties and ' bitterness of soul. He in torn -talks to ft ' them, mifehtily expounding the Scriptures. He throws over them the fascination of Kv intelligent conversation. They forget the ^ time and notice not the objects they pass and before they are aware have come in front of their house. They pause before the entrance and attempt to persuade the stranger to'ferry irith them. Ihey press optfn TPia- their hospitalities. Night is fftKMUI. W Ot uuu|(cu ;w u1. uuwiki? from the dew, He cannot go much farther now. . Why not "*top there and continue their pleasant conversation? They take Him by the arm, ani they insist upon His coming'in. addrewing'Him in the words. "AbidirVitb ua. for it is toward eve*fag." The lamp#' are lighted, the table is spread, pleasant soeialties are enkindled. They ret foice in the nresence of this stranger guest. He asks a blessing upon the bread they eat. and "He hands a piece of it to each. Suddenly and with p/erwhelming power the t. thought flashegrtpon the astounded people?it is th#T-<ord! And as they sit in v-^~ nreathlessMmder, looking upon tliiie resurrected bpy Jesus. He vanished* The interv^r ended. He was frone. Wit# many of us it is a bright sunshiny ajjjjkyw prosperity. There is ,not a cloud " ? ?j. _ i?* 1.1i_ ? ? ' J" SKV? noL H ieai WJWUIg III iuc Njhip^ JjHP^no chill in the air. But we ca'nnet gtpxt |P" nil this to la3t. He is not an iatdJigeBt f man who expect# perpetual dajMtt of *oy. The sun will after ?while near the lorizon: the shadows will lengthen. While I speak many of us stand in the very hour described in the text, 'Tor it is toward evening." The request of the text I, is appropriate for some' in everyj^fyBjfcnity, for with them it is toward Mrevtnintr of old ace. They have passeditfe?*ineridian of life. They are sometinajB. startled to tain!c how. old they are. TWyMo not, however, like others to remarif^po-: it. If others suggest their approximation toward' venerable appearance, they say, "Why, I am not so old^after all." Thev t fc". 'do. indeed, notice that they cannot lift ; quite ae much as once; ti^ey cannot walk quite so fast; they cannot read quite so (I well without SDectacles; they cannot so easily recover trom a cougn or any occaR sional ailment; they haye lost their taste [ for merriment; they are surprised at the quick passage of the vear; they sav that it only but a little while ago that they ; were toys; they are (join? a little down hill; there is something in their health, ( Something in their vision, something in their walk, something in their chancing associations, something above, something beneath, something within to remind them that it is toward evening. The great want of all such is to have Jesus abide with them. It is a dismal thing to be getting old without the reju) V' venating influence of religion. When we top on the down grade of life and see ' 1nat it dips to the verge of the cold river, vie want to behold some one near who will help us across it. When the sight loses its nower to glance and gather up, we need the faith that can illumine. When i we feel the failure of the ear. we need the clear tones of that voice which in olden times broke up the silence of the deaf wilh cadence3 of mercy. When the axmen of death hew down whole forests of strength and beauty around us and we jf. are left in solitude," we need the dove of ? . ' divine mercy to sing in our branches. When the shadows begin to fall and we feel that the day is far spent, we need most of all to supplicate the beneficent ( Jesus in the prayer of the villagers. "Abide with us. for it is toward evening." ' The request of the text is an appropriate | exclamation for all those who are approaching th* gloomy hour of temptation. There is nothing easier than.to be good natured when everything pleases, or to be , humble when there is nothing to puff us J I uo, or forgiving when we have not been assailed, or honest when we have no inducement to fraud. But you have felt the grapple of some temptation. Your nature at some time quaked and groaned under the infernal power. You feel that the devil v was aft<er you; you saw your Christian ) graces retreating; you feu ed that you would tail in the awful wrestle with sin and be thrown into the dust. The gloom thickened. The first indications cf the night weVe seen. In all the trembling of your soul, in all the infernal suggestions of t Satan, in all the surging un of tumultuous / passions and excitements, you felt with awful ertinhasis that it was toward evening, In the tempted hour you need to ask Jesus to abide with you. You can beat . back the monster that would devour you; yon can unhorse the sin that would ride juu uuwu., )uu ittu BUdipeii cut; uhuivba Bfe . .with which you split the head of helmeted abomination. Who helped Paul shake the |pc brazen gated heart of Felix? Who acted like a good jailor when all the crew howled ?> in the Mediterranean shipwreck? Who j|" helped the martyrs to be firm when one R;-v'; . # word of recantation would have unfastened I ' the withes of the stake and put out the ft : v kindling fire? When the night of the soul came on ^4f;V. and all the denizens of darkness came ridIfcrvV i11? upon the winds of perdition, who gave strength to the sour' Who gave R&-, . Calmness to the heart? Who broke the spell of infernal enchantment? He who heard the request of the villagers, "Abide with us. for it is toward evening." One of the forts of France was attacked, and the outworks were taken before night. Tht besieging army lay down, thinking that there wis but little to do in the f? morning, and that the soldiery in the fort coald be easily made to surrender. But during tht night, through a back stairs, they escaped into the. country. In the morning the besieging array sprang upon ' / the battlements, but found that their prey was gone. So when we are assaulted by temptation there is always some secret stair by which we might get off. God will not allow us to be tempted above what we are able, but with every temptation will bring a way of escape thav we may be able to oear it. The prayer of the text is appropriate ^ for all who are anticipating sorrow. The greatest folly that ever grew on this planet is the tendency to borrow trouble, out there are times when approaching Borrow is so evident that we need to be making especial preparations for its com ?ig. vae 01 jour cnuurcii uus lately Deeome a favorite. The cry of that child strikes deeper into the heart than the cry of all the others. You think more about it; you gi. e it more attention, not because it is any more of a treasure than the others, but because it is becoming frail. There is something in the cheek, in the eye and in the walk that makes you quite sure that the leaves of the flower are going to be scattered. The utmost nursing and medical attendance are ineffectual. The pulse becomes feeble, the complexion lighter, the step weaker, the laugh fainter. No more romping for that one through hall I and parlor. Thet.nursery is darkened by an approaching calamity. The heart feels with mournful anticipation that the sun fs going down. Night speeds on. It is toward evening. } You . have lo.ig rejoiced in the care of a mother; you have done everything to make her "last days happy; you have run with quick feet to wait upon her every want. Her presence has been a perpetual blessing in the household. But the fruit gatherers are looking wistfully at that nree. Her soul is ripe for heaven. The gates are ready to flash open for her entrance. *But your soul sinks at the thought ^ of separation. You cannot bear to think / V ? * ' last look at that face, which from the firal hour has looked tfpon you with affection 1 Rnf. wnu cpc that life jj uncnangc<ii/.v.. j ?? ? ? _ ebbing, and the grave will soon hide her from ya'ir sight. You sit quiet; you feel heavy nearted. > The light is fading from the sky; the air is chill. It is toward evening. Vou nad a considerable estate and felt independent. In five minutes on one fair balance sheet you could see just how you stood with the world. But there came complications. Something that you imagined impossible happened. The best friend you had proved traitor to your interests. A sudden crash of national misfortune prostrated your credit. You may to-day be going on in business, but you feel anxious about where you are standing, and fear that the next turn of the commercial wheel will bring you prostrate. You foresee what you consider certain defalcation; you think of the anguish of telling your friends that you are not worth a dollar; you know not how you will ever bring your children home from school; you wonder how you will stand the selling of your library o: the moving into a plainer house. The misfortunes of life have accumulated. You wonder what makes the sky so dark. It is toward evening. Trouble is an apothecary that mixes a great many drafts, bitter and sour and nauseous, and you must drink some one of them. Trouble puts up a great mar* packs, and you muat carry some one of them. There is no sandal so thick and well adjusted but some thorn will striks through it; there is no Bound so sweet but the undertaker's screw-driver grates through it. In this swift shuttle of the heart some of the threads must break. The journey from Jerusalem to Jimmaua will soon be ended. Our Bible, our common sense, our observation, reiterate in tones tttfet vri cannot mistake and ought not to disregard?it is toward evening. % woftj of the text are pertinent to us all from the fact that we art nearing the evening of death. 1 have heard it said that we ought to live as though each moment were to be our last. I do not believe that theory. As far as preparation is concerned we ought always to be ready, bufc cannot always be thinking of dephAiftr we have duties in life that demahcFour attention. Whan a* man is selling goods it is his businfe to think of the bargain he is making; when a man is pleading in> the courts, it is his duty to think of the interests of his clients; when a clerk is adding up accounts it is his duty to keep his mind upon the column of figures. He who fills up his life with thoughts of death is far from being the highest style of Christian. I knew a man who' used often to say at night, "I wish I might die before morning!' He is now an intidel. But there are times when we can and 1-i. frt fr?nnfpmnla. OUgUl to K"c vuiociin vv, W?~ e tion of that solemn moment when to the soul time ends and eternity begins. We must go through that one pass. There is no roundabout way, no bypath, no circuitous route. Die we must, and it will be to ua a shameful occurrence or a time of admirable behavior. Our friends may stretch out their hands to keep U3 back, but no impioration on their part can hinder us. They might offer large retainers, but death would not take the fee. The breath will fail? and the. eyes will close, and the heart will stop. You may hang the couch with gorgeous tapestry, but what does death care far bed curtains? You may hang the room with the finest works of art, nut what does death care for pictures? You may fill the house with the wailings of widowhood and orphanage. Does death mind weeping? Listen to Paul's battle shout with misfortune, hark to mounting Latimer's fire song; look at the glory that hath Teft the dungeon and filled the earth and heavens with the crash of the falling manacles of despotism and then look at those who have tried to cure themselves by human prescriptions, attempting to heal gangrene with patch of court plaster ana to stop the plague of dying empires with the quackery of earthly wisdom- Nothing can sneak Deace to the soul, nothing can un strap our crushing burdens, nothing can overcome our spiritual foes, nothing can open our eyes to see the surrounding horses and chariots of salvation that fill all the mountains but the voice and command of Him who stopped one night at Emmaus. You ought to be willing to exchange j-our body that has headaches and sideaches and weaknesses innumerable, that limps with the stone bruise or festers with the thorn or flames on the funeral pyre of fevers, for an incorruptible body and an eye that blinks not before the jasper gate? and the great white throne. But between that and this there is an hour about which no man should be reckless or foolhardy. I doubt not your courage, but I tell you that you will want something better than^ a strong arm, a good aim and a trusty J ?l mmo fn vniir last hatfcle. You will need a better robe than any you have in your wardrobe to keep you warm in that place. Cirsumstances do not make so much difference. It may be bright day when you push off from the planet, or it may be dark night and while the owl is hooting from the forest. It may be spring, ana your soul may go out among the blossoms, apple orchards swinging their censers in the way. It may be winter and the earth in a snow shroud. It may be autumn and the forests set on fire by the retreating year?dead nature laid out in state. It may be with your wife's hand in your hand, or you may La in a strange hotel, with a servant faithful to the last. It may be in the rail train, shot off the switch and tumbling in long reverberation down the embankment?crash, crash! I know not the time, 1 know not the mode, but the days of our life are being subtracted away, and we shall come down to the time when we have but ten days left, then nine days, then eight days, then seven days, six days, five days, four dayB, three days, two days, one day. Then hours,?three hours, two houis; one hour. Then only minutes left?live minutes, four minn+oB fhrpp minutes, two minutea. one minute. Then only seconds left?four seconds, three seconds, two seconds, one second. Gone! The chapter of life ended! The book closed! The pulses at rest! The feet through with the journey! The hands closed from all work! No word on the lips! No breath in the nostrils! Hair combed back to lie undisheveled by any human hands. The muscles still. The nerves still. The lungs still. The tongue still. All still. You might, put the stethoscope to breast and hear no sound. You might put a speaking trumpet to the ear," but you could not wake the deafnes*. No motion. No throb. No life. Still! fc'till! On earth with many of you the evening is the happiest part of the twenty-four hours. You gather about the stand. You talk and laugh And sing. Y ou recount the day. You plan for the morrow You i l A?:J have games ana repartees, mum an uc toil ot the day that is the goal for which you run, and as you take out your watch or look at the descending sun you thrill with the thought that it is toward evening. So death comes to the disciple. What if the sun of life is about to set? Jesus is the dayspring from on high, the perpetual morning of every ransomed spirit. What if the darkness comes? Jesus is the light of the world and of heaven. What though this earthly house does crumble? Jesus has prepared a house of many mansions. Jesus is the anchor that always holds. Josus is the fountain that is never exhausted. Jesus is the evening star hung up amid the gloom of the gathering night. You are almost through with the abuse and backbiting of enemies. They will call you no more by evil names. Your good deeds will not longer bs misinterpreted ot your honor filched. The troubles of earth will end in the felicities of heaven. Toward evening! The bereavements of earth will soon be lifted. You will not much i lnncpr stand Douring your grief in the tomb like Rachel weeping for her chil dren or David mourning for Absalom Broken hearts bound up. Wounds healed Tears wiped away. Sorrows terminated Xo more sounding of the dead march. To ward evening. Death will come sweet at slumber to the eyelids of the babe, as ful rations to a starving soldier, as evening hour to the exhausted workman. The skj will take on its Bunset glow, every clouc a fire psalm, every lake a glossy mirror the forests transfigured, delicate misti climbing the air. Your friends will an nounce it, your pulses will beat it, youi jovs will ring it, your lip> will whisper it "tojwdeveaipg.'* ? THE SABBATH SCHO( I I I INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMEf1 l| FOR OCTOBER 28. Subject: The Prodigal Son, I/nke 11-24 ?Golden Text: Lnke it.i 1 Memory Verses 20-24 ? Comment on the Day'* Lesson. 11. "A certain man." The simple, pretentious beginning of the most bea ful of all the parables. The man is h the image of God the Father. "Two soi Both are Jews. The idea that the el son represents the Jews, and the youn the Uentiles ia foreign to the parable, in character the two sons may be said be representative of mankind, for have in them examples of two great phn of alienation from God?the elder is bli ed by his self-righteousness, the youn degraded by his unrighteousness. 12. "The younger." He represe openly wicked persons, such as the pu j cans and sinners. He also represents 1 I thoughtless, careless youth. "Give me 1 | portion of goods." This will appear pi when it is considered that it has beer ! custom in the East for sons to dema , and receivc their Dortion of the inhei j ance during the father's lifetime. "He ! vided?his living." The .yielding to the quest strikingly sets forth the penniesi of free-will to man, and also tne fact (rod's bestowing many gifts upon e* the unthankful and disobedient. 13. "Not many days." He had decic upon his course and hastened to be go j "Gathered all together." Sinners that ! astray from God venture their all. "To ! his journey." He was weary of his fa j cr's government and desired greater 1 , erty. As soon as the bridle of restraini j grace is taken off we are soon gone. 1 I journey the prodigal took represents 1 sinner in his departure from God. went into a "far country," far from tri i and virtue. "Wasted his substance." sinners waste the gifts God has giv I them. Time, talents, energies, life, | wasted. "With riotous living." In vei r 30 we see how low he fell. His bo< mind and soul were debased and ruined 14. "Spent all." He did not stop un his last dollar was gone. His passic reigned. This represents the sinner w lias tnrown awuy me nicay, iavur a love of God. and has wilfully rejected t salvation of Christ. "A mighty famin< The soul living at a distance from G< I and shut out from intercourse with Hi ! will very soon feel ita own utter emp i ness. A mighty famine will follow. " j want." Real want is soul want. T prodigal now felt the effects of his <lia j pated course, 'i he steps downward w< | "apostasy, proflgacy, penalty." See Pr< . 24 : 34. 15. "Joined himself to a citizcn." T same wicked life that before was rep: } sented by riotous living is here repi i sented by servile living, for sinners a j perfect slaves. The devil is the citizen I that country; he is both in city and con | try. "To feed swine." This was dout degrading, and especially so to a Jew. 16. '"Would fain have been filled wi ! the husks." (R. V.) Thb husks were n the / pod* of some other fruit, but "t fruit of the carob-tree. used for feedi swine." He was driven to the extremi of trying to satisfy his hunger with t food that was fit only for. swine. So s ners endeavor to satisfy the soul wi earthly and sensual delights. "No m gave unto him." Thpee whom he h called his friends now deserted hi They had taken his money and then c? him aside. Satan's agents do the sai to-day. The saloonkeeper will rob a m of his money, health and character, a' then kick him out of the back door die. 1 17. "He came to himself." Sin < thrones the reason. A state of sin is state of folly and madness, but the ma ness is in the heart. Eccl. 9:'3. His la of reason is seen, 1. In that he call 'for his money.' 2. When he left hon 3. When he went to live with harlo 4. When he undertook to satisfy his hi ger with swine's food. But he now begi to sense his, condition and see his fol Those who have <5nce known the Lord ca not derive satjdfaetiou-i from the woe] "Bread enough* and; to :8?are." The lowe in my father's hcto^e has Bread to givethe poor. God's: people are. abundani supplied .with (rood things.' "I pen with hunger.!' - dinners will not come Christ until they see themselves ready perish. v -IS "T will nriao " "FTrf find lpff. Iinme his own free'will, and lie must retilrn the" same way. God comnels no one to right. "And go." Following the de sion there must be an effort put fori In returning to God there is something do. "I have sinned." The first thing do is to make a full confession of o sins. 1 John 1:9; Job 33 : 27, ! "Against heaven." Against God. Eve sin is a sin against God. "And befr thee." He had also sinned against 1 earthly father. It is ever a token of t sincerity of repcntanfce when one vie even the sins committed against oth< a3 transgressions against God. 19. "No more worthy." He is ready humble himself. He knows that in justi his father could 6hut theuloor against hii he will nlead for mercy only. 20. "He arose." He immediately did of these things that he had decided upc "His father saw him." So God kno when we start toward Him. Sin had ma the distance great, but. as soon as the 1< one starts to return the father had co passion. "And ran," etc. This rep sents the readiness with which God ceives returning sinners. 21. "I have sinned." He makes tl confession personal; he abases him?t This is always the result of true repei ance. "And am no more worthy." j true penitents feel their unworthine * tL.i 1.1 J rney are conscious mat laev aesei nothing but denth. and their only hope in the mercy of Christ. 22. "But the father." ' The father ( not wait until he had finished his conf "sion. In this we see the great affecti of the father and his willingness to f give. "Said to his servants." The fa er's joy is full, and he instantly issued ders to celebrate his return. "Bri forth quickly." (R. V.) Let us show once by our actions that the wanderer fully reinstated. "Put a ring on his han< A sign of affection and th^t he was a f; man. There is no license given here j adorn the body, as some have vainly tr to show. The true standard for si I adorning is given bv Paul and Peter. , Tim, 2: 9, 10; 1 Pet. 3: 3. 4. 23. "Be merry." Be joyful and hap; The Bible gives the children of C?od cense to shout for joy. When Christ stores the wanderer there is general joicing, and he is immediatelv treated a son. The best that God has is gi\ him, anH the past is entirely blotted ou 24. "Was dead." "Lost to all go jriven up to all evil." "Is alive agiii Here was snecial cause for rejoicing. \\ would not be partaker of this joy? I TRAMPS INVADE KANSAS. Flocking by *Hundre<lh to Their Kavoi Winter K??>rl. The railroads of Kansas are v/acin; v against the army of tramps hob that lias overrun the vicinity of in pendence. Tor years tramps hivo in;i tained a rendezvous at Drum, u few m east of Independence, and now as the c weather has begun they are pouring i their winter quarters by the htiudrt The resort has a national reputation, old gas well, plugged up and abandon furnishes enough gas through a leak | all the fuel the tramps can use. i ?? A Congestion of Public IIou*e*. 1 In Ireland in 1896 the total number 1 licensed houses was 18,751. In that co ' try the congestion of public houses 1 terrible. In one city (Tratee)~^in street, forty yards long, so narrow^ ' two carts cannot pass in it, there ' twelve public houses. In another tc there are ten to a population of 179, f another one house in three, in anot | one to every thirty persons. r I" Hnl f nf M AtlCfl. 1 , Captain Liddle, of the Entrlish s i King Bl.ddyn, on arriving at Now V City reported that he passed a hot gey r spouting water seventy-five feet, in , middle of the Gulf of Mexico. . )L,1 GOD'S MESSAGE TO MAN. ? ?? ^ JTS PRECNANT thoughts frou the I WORLD'S GREATEST PROPHETS. * . My Faith?God's Sympathy Alwayi Pre8? I ciotis?1 he Scent of Sweutnesi?Touch?'y I in it the D1 vine Spirit?Trmtlnfc In God j ?Quiet Way of Doinc lhlnj* tfc* Ue#U I . u . I trust iu God; whatever ills utl" Around my pathway fall, ier,? Whatever clouds obscure my sun. He sends and guides theui all. ??F I am not wisp to frame a creed, to ta'k of divine; 1 may not draw 'twixt right and wrc seg A faultless boundary line. "g" I cannot tell what saints shall fill 8 His glorious courts above; i I only know this blessed truth, blj. That God is boundless lovo. the [.jjg And knowing this, I cannot fix a[n The limits of his grace, k a Or say that any soul shall miss _ j The liirht of his dear face. ma ? - - rit jj.. So ia my faith I rest content re. Where'er my lot may fall; ion I cannot wonder far from Him 0? Wnose care is over all. . ren ?Mm. E. E. Brown in Univerpaliat Leader. led ae* God's Sympathy Always Precious. go )0k The late Dr. W. M.. Barbour once th- preached a sermon from the text, "He ib- shall come down like rain upon the ing mown grass," in which, with the delicacy "he and skill jof which he was master, he ;he showed how the mown grass is just in He the condition to be enriched by the rain, ith and in how many ways the divine gift of So rain ministers to the needs of the earth, en drawing therefrom choice ' lessons of all comfort and consolation to those in afflierse tiou. It was a beautiful suggestion of iy, the peculiar receptivenep.s of those 'who I. have been afflicted and have learned to itil accept affliction in a lowly, humble spirit ?na for the peculiar blessings which God ho can bestow at no other time and upon nd no other mood. God understands us he through arid through, and never makes a misinke in dealing with uSj Probably >d, we might never fcarn, adequately at any rate, the possibilities of his infinite tou>ti derness and compassion if we werg not In reduced by sorrow in some form to such he a state as to need'them.1 There is a l31' whole side of the divine character :re which is revealed in our distress, which, 1 >v- but for affliction, might go unknown and , unnoticed. The price is worth the payhc ing, even by suffering, if the suffering re* brings this precious assuronce of the I rc* divine presence and comfort. , At no iT_ec other time doos our Heavenly Father j "l appear more winsome nnci inviuug. ma l?" sympathy always is precious whenever ''y we are conscious of it, but, probably be- | i, cause at no other time is pur sense of j V} need equally greati at no other time is 1 his revelation of himself within our I Jiearts sb unspeakably nweet and satfsfying. Like the gentle smn'mer rain which Lg falls softly and (is absorbed thirstily by; I the grass which has .been freshly*' cropped, so the ministration^ ^of God an de^tMuls upoti the stricken, rjchfng soul 1 aJ to soothe and fortify, to cheer and m strengthen it. "Thy geptlenesa 1 hath jgj made me great," said tjie psalpiist. Sure- j Qe ly,it,must have been as he looked back I an upon^a'time of affliction or sorrow of .j some kir.d that he said it. to ' ' The Scent of SweetneM. Iea I walked over a meadow, and the air t(j. was fnll .of delicious fragrance. Yet I ck conld see no flowers. There was tall ed grass wla*ring on all sides, but the fraie. prance did not come from the grans, tg." ,1'hen 1 parted the grass and looked beln. neath it, and there, tflose to the earth, na hidden oht * of sight by the Bhowy |y. growths' in the meadow, were' multim tudes of Ibwly little flowers. I had found Id. the secnrt of the swefrtness^-it poured ?8t out from these hntnble, hiding flowers, to This is a picture of wha|t is true everytly where in life. Not from the great, the rii y-conspiciious, the famed in any cominunito tjl, comes the fragrance which most to sweetens the air, but from lowly lives, hidden, obscure, unpraiscd, which give by out the aroftia of unselfishness, of kindin ness, of gentleness. In many a home it' do is from the room of an invalid, * sufci forer. that the swe:;tnesa comes' which ;h. fills all the house. We know that it ia to from the cross of Christ that the hal- ' to lowing influence flowed which all) ur theso conturies has been refining and en28. riching and softening the world's life. ry So it is always?ont of weakness and ire suffering, and from crushed, broken iia lives, comes the blessing that renews . ho and heals the world. \V8 >rs "The healing of the world Is in its nameless saints." to * " \} . ice ? ,T. F Miller, I). D.,'in "The Building a; cf Character." , ' ' " Touching thfi Divine Spirit. ' >n. . i.v .? ws We need the Reettig'eyfy* the hearing de ear, the feeling heart. Do yon'not often ' catch brief and fugitive glimpses of thic m- hidden sacredness in tne races or men, in re- the occupations of life, in the common re- scenes and /places? I do. I stood the other day in Burnet Woods and gam! his at the summit of a hill along which :lf. stood a sentinel line of Hrches, the ; at- brown leaves still clinging scantily' to 1 ill their bared limbs in shreds and patches, j as. like the worn garments of half-naked i ve beggars. I hud looked long at them in ia one of those fits of abstraction in which the soul seems unconsciously, to be lid yearning for and searching after the sees* crets of the universe, and after that on spiritual beauty which lurks in every or- landscape, when suddenly it flashed upon th- me for an instant and was gone. I canor not describe it. I could not recall it./ It, ng had vanished utterly: but I know that at I had seen it! My heart bounded, my is ; bosom heaved, my eyes filled with tears, i" I had touched in some way the hem of ree thp garment of the Divine Spirit of life, .to It was a mystery, but it was a reality, and I have perceived it often in places, lph und times, and occupations, and people, J but it flits as quickly as It appears,? Charles Frederic Goss, in "Hits und Py- iMisses." h* 1 rerc. Trusting: In Qcd. as We bless Thee. Heavenly Father, that *en we know thee: all the way of this earthit , i.. i,....* u.?~,i ...? i ?j in*- IUUII imni Hum vur uuuu, wc uurc 0(1; walked with thf*e, and we know thee; ! j?- ! thou art Love. In the hour of gladness ho we hav-i offered our sacrifice of praise; now that the dark hour conies, still our heart is fixed, trusting in thee. In our suffering we discover?new every morning, fresh "very evening?the joy of thine Jt? adding. The burden of our heart ever shows ns more thy love. I^oss, V >reavement, loneliness, make thee all in all, var and out from I he ashes of our grief and 026 pain springs the deeper, sweeter joy, the do- eternal peace of the soul close-knit unto tin- thee. Through Jesus Christ we thank ilcs thee, Father, and give thee &till our o!d praise. Auien. n to d*- The quiet way of doing things is ihe A,n best and most effective way always. God moves the planets with less noise than for make moving a wagon-loci of iron rails through the street. of FORTUNE WITH STRING TO IT. un ivas 800,000 LMt to a Columbus Girl If She one ^urrJ' Testator's Son. *Fhcre J a legacy of 500,000 waiting for arc Miss Mi3y Gilbert, of Columbus, Ohio, >v/.n tor severai years a teacher of water color '."J painting hi'the Columbus Art School, if ahe can -comply with the conditions imposed by fl.-r deceased uncle, D. J. Kldridge, of (i.hic.v.:o. According to the terms of his will, Miss ibin Gilbert ;s t<> receive the $60,000 if she will ork marry ildri Ige's eldest son. If she ser, refuses the legacy goes to another. She the has not yfe made up her mind whether to accept, j ly " i >> ' "the great destroyer SOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOU" THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. Alcoholic Heredity?HUtory of a Fainll, of Eight Children, Whose Father Wn a Hard Drinker?Every Member Bu One a Degenerate?An Awful Warning I can possibly better illustrate what th< term nervous diathesis means by detailini the history of a neurotic family. Iti father was a man of vigorous personality strong of brain and in excellent bodiij health. From early manhood, in order t< more easily accomplish his work, he hac indulged excessively in alcoholic stipu lants, yet never to the extent of intoxjca tion. The mother wa? a gentlewoman, ol delicate, nervous organization, and re fined mental temperament, worrying ovei trifles, excitable, and, at times, suffering from the milder forms of hysteria. A fam ily of eight children was born to them. It childhood high and frequent fevers with out adequate cause were observed. Theii dentition was frequently complicated b> nnH ah thp ficrp r?r fr.wr* vmm epiiepay developed in one of the children. Another child, delicately molded, and extremely precocious, could read at the age of three, and displayed considerable ability as a musician. She ^aa sent to school when six, and was soon regarded as an infant phenomenon, advancing rapidly in her studies. She tailed to develop physically, and early suffered from astigmatism. At the age of twelve, owing possibly to a slight fright, she became choreic, improved, relapsed at the end of three "month#, and finally recovered except for slight habit spasms. A third child, apparently normal and giving but little evidence of any unusual nervous or physical disturbance, yet developed a megrim at the age of sixteen. Another daughter had always shown a certain weakness of body, a poor appetite, digestive disturbances and constipation. Like the mother she was nervous, and at times morbid. An unhappy marriage and too- frequent bearing of children resulted in a permanent melancholia. The oldest boy was fairly bright, but' provfed decidedly unruly in the &hool, , and refused a university education. He j worked faithfully and, untiringly, and rose i to the head of a large business establishment, manifesting no bodily or mental peculiarity. TThe second son was excellently endowed: At an early age he exhibited marvelous activity, rapidly passing through the various grades of the common schools, and entered the university when barely sixteen. . His university course was most brilliant. He'was the honor man of his class, was an excellent debater, -and led I in religious work/ 'What was given him to , do he. did-well, but his mentality was one | of doubt, and he could not decide upon his life work. Ht went to Harvard for a I post-graduate course, then to 'Germany. ! While there he found brain (concentration j impossible, worried much over trivial afi fairs, and became very* despondent. There so6n develqbed serious stomach derangements. and he suffered greatly with intestinal dyspepsia. He returned to his home depressed, overwhelmed with morbid fears, incapable of prolonged mental efforts, and remains a confirmed neurasthenic. Another son, with very much the' same hisi tory, studied law, rose rapidly in his profession, and, except for occasional dipsomaniac'outbreaks, is fairly successful. The fourth son was not bright, took but little interest in nis studies, smritea wnen possible, left school at an early age, coh: sorted with evil companion^, and seemed unable to comprehend his moral delinquencies, wandered from place to place, gambling and dissipating and finally became a confirmed criminal. In this family frroup onlv one became insane. The reason far this development the family could not possibly conceive, honestly' denying insane heredity, yet every member of the family, except one, presented either physical or mental stigmata of degeneration.? Dr. Robertson, in Occidental Medical Times. > , Drlnlc Habit AlnonsfWorten. Some surprising statements were made at the late State Convention of the Connecticut Catholic Total Abstinence Union by th? Rev. Walter Shnnley, the Prfcsidetit or the organization, in his annual address to the assembled guests of the State societies. The priest'talked on the projects of temperance in the State, and said that he regretted to say that while habitual intemperance among men was decreasing alcoholism among women was becoming more comnion. He said in part: "Considerable comment has, been niade lately concerning the drink habit among society women and the danger of this growing custom amoi)g the women. Accordiiig to competent authority, drinking is decreasing among men, but increasing among women, and among women of the wealthier classes. It is to be regretted that women. who vare leaders in society imitate ,thei drinking customs of English society, and, thfit the old American ideas of respectability .jri this matter are fast disaopearing. It is to be hoped that Catholic women will not be brought to itrinnt this dancp^mis HrinU fimliinn " Mlnoe Plea Under a Ban. Mrs. Cornelia .B, Forbes, President of the Hartford Branch of, the Womab'a Christian Temperance Union, has made the discovery, that the required fee or fiftv cents is not the stumbling block that ,BP" -he way of new recruits to that organ>n, but homely and provincial cider. O. .ount of this subtle and "danzerdus" beverage, the society has relegated mince pies to-the-'black list, and the New England housewife who considers cider the essential element to the success of her*pies refuses on this account to join the ranks of the white ribboners. Such was the reEort made at a recent meeting in Hartford y those who have been striving to increase the membership. - Salvation For the Slave of Drink. What is the price of freedom for the slave of drink? Self-denial! Is this hard? Oh, husband! Oh, brother! take in hand 1:?.? :? 1?r? Liial. giuoo ui li^uvu, ilium it UCIUIC JUUt eyes and see therein the tear9 of a loving wife, dear children, and blasphemies, woes and miseries of which it has been the cause, then tell me how you can deal it out to others, or take it yourself. Oh! think of the souls damned through the means of it, who will risi* up on judgment day against the drunkard and the vender of drink, and then with all the horror of which your soul is capable dash away the fatal cup forever from your lips. A Town Witliout Saloon*. The Great Northern Railroad has won its fight to prevent the incorporation of the town of Hillyard, near Spokane. The contest was rather peculiar in some particulars. Hillyard is a town established and owned by the company. In order to secure entry for the saloons an attempt to incorporate the town was made, but has failed, and the railroad will continue to run the town without saloons. The Crncade In Brief. At Bayonne, N. J., twenty saloons were refused renewal of license and closed. The Church Temperance Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church is operating fifteen ice-water fountains. The trend in the direction of temperMice is so marked in the South that the daily newspapers are beginning t? take notice of it and discuss it editorially. Disking on the police force is not ti be allowed in San Francisco. H. R. Smun was fined $100 for being drunk on July 4, and barely escapcd dismissal from the forcc. Citizens of PaiO Alto, Cal.. have defeated the effort to establish a tavern with a bar near the university grounds. It would be a simple matter to be a moder drinker if it were not 39 much haruer to reluse the second drink than the first one. Under the Clark law, when even partially enforced in Iowa, crime decreased to a remarkable extent. In eighteen months the aggregate convict population of_ the two penitentiaries ran down from 750 to 532. In Scotland the number of licensed houses, taking the whole country through, is one to over 300 of the population as again jt one to 219 in England. The total numher in 1896 was 11,421, including grocers' licenses. ? ^ " R :' * }.'.. | . : " ' ' * - v ? *?r-' *r + : .'a traitor ho the flag. r Henry Yanc0-|Enters Alcatraz Military Prison For Life. i * V J V He Deserted in the Philippines and * rj . . f Joined the Insurgents?He Wu . Sentenced to Be Shot. ; <ry'- / ' San Fran^sco (Special).?Triators to r the flag of the United States have been I rare in the army. Instances of hero ism ar$.s6 common that it Is only a | case of special daring that attracts gen. eral attention. It is otherwise with a ^genuine case of treason. These are so ' rare that when a prisoner arrived here i from the Philippines with the crime charged against him remarkable inter; eat was taken in the case. Investigu, tipna of the man's antecedents proved that lie was not a native of the United States, and possibly not a citizen. Henry Vance is the name of the man i who deserted from the American ranks ] and went over to the Filipinos, aiding ( and comforting them and leading , them, in a Major's uniform, against the flag he had sworn to defend. Little is known, of Vance's history prior to the tteghmlng of the war in Cuba. He was boni In the City *of Mexico iwenty-seyen years ago, his father being a Spaniard and his mother a Mexican. He was In the Spanish ranks in Cuba and fought against the Americans for a time. V/hen the Spaniards surrendered he became a camp follower, attaching himself to the Twenty-third United States Infantry. He next turned up in the Philippines, where he associated with the Spaniards, working against both the Americans and the Filipinos. He was then known as Enrique Vance, and he displayed such hostility to the Americans that he stood In the line of promotion to higher rank. But the Spaniards lost, and while they were being sent home home Vance hung around the American quarters in Manila and eventually enlisted In Company I, Thirty-seventh Volunteers, vvuifu >va? luuul' up largely or aischarged soldiers re-enlisting in the Philippines. He was made a musician, and through his musical abilities and Ingratiating manner he won many friends among the Americans. After some months of service he was protooted to ,the post of principal musli cian. All the while, It was discovered later, he acted as a. spy for the Filipinos, a- . . /Sight toonths of service with the Americans gave the traitor a good Insight into the methods of the Americans ?tad a, fojr idea of-their plans of camp&l&n. . Completing his sticret aegotlatiim? with Aguinaldo or other officers acting in Agulnaldo'a behalf, \ Vance secured a commission of Majo." ( in the Filipino Army and deserted. For a long time he was supposed to* hl)T0 haan IrtlloH Thon ronnrto nama f In of his capture. Still later rumors ! 1 spread that be bad been seen among 1 the FiUgitnos wearing a uniform and t assisting in operations against the ? Americans. . E It was Vance's trick of imitating American bugle callp thafled to his , capture and conviction as a traitor. A small party of soldiers of the Forty- 8 second Infantry laid a ,trap for the 8 traitor and succeeded in capturing him < five months after he had joined the r Filipinos. He was accompanied by y two half naked Filipinos, and pretend- j ed to be a prisoner in their bands, t The Filipinos told another story. They . declared thijt they were acting under his orders, and that he held the rank a of Major. As Vance wore side arms at the time, and could have easily I' overpowered the-,'Filipinos if. he had b so minded, the assertion of his com- g panions was accepted^as true and e Vance was charged with^deaertion and ^ treason.* ; tl , In company with other prisoners, ttoaaa mna +n irnn f a ??' t) it? d ? ttuvv nuo luucu IU IUC yuovu ui i>ur bid pending court-martial. He was 4 found guilty of desertion and treason o and was sentenced to be shot The li findings were forwarded to President l? McKlnley, who commuted Vance's i sentence to imprisonment for ninety- ^ nine years. Vance, with other Amerl can prisoners, was conveyed to Manila and placed on board-the transport Thomas, bound for San Francisco. [ Upon arrival at San Francisco the prisoners, Including Vance, were soon marched on board a tug bound for Alcatraz Island. Not onev of the other prisoners noticed Vance or conversed with him. He was In disgrace even among disgraced men. The tug made i her way to the steep hill that stands c guard at the entrance of the Golden t Gate, and Vance turned for the ltust t time to gaze upon the sceng of life before him. Then, heavily manacled, he stepped within the gloomy walls 8 that crown the great rock, never to re- t appear alive. The last object that at- T tracted his gaze was the Stars and Stripes, floating from the parapet. f Fatal Panic In Russia. Five thousand pilgrims assembled at 0 the St. Nlkander Monastery, In the e Porkhoff District, Russia, for a relig- c lous festival. A panic was caused by a a false alarm of Are, and four men c 1 and thirty-six women were crushed j to death, many others being seriously t 'njured. * Population of Delaware. ( The Census Bureau, at Washington, j has announced that the population of rj Delaware In 1900 is 184,735, as against . 16S.493 In 1890, representing an in- ? crease since 1890 of 16,242, or 9.6 per 11 cent. , 0 a Boers Capture Three Towns. t The Boers now occupy Wepener. as + well as Rouxville and Ficksburg, in a Orange River Colony, and the British are attempting to surround them. I Former Postmaster Insane. V Former Postmaster Henry A. Thorn- t' as, of Boston, has been committed to b the McLean Asylum. Colonel Thornas, who has been ill with brain frou- . ble for a long time, has grown worse recently, and the physicians say that ? the case now Is hopeless. v New Revolt In San Domingo. V The Government of San Domingo g has decreeu the suspension of oonstltutlonal guarantees on account of a revolutionary movement in the inte- * rlor, headed by General Plchardo. r ? o Minor Mention. 1] InfieUler Quinn received his release S from Cincinnati. .1 California Presbyterians have voted 1: not to change the creer1. o A Minnesota man has found a pearl 0 worth $2000 in a clam shell. ' t Immigration to the port of New York increased 100,000 last year. 1J All the conductors of the Brookfleld (Mass.) Trolley line have been appoint- ? ed special officers. r I Wild dhcks are so plentiful in Colo- t. fadu that in some counties premiums jj are offered for their destruction. f i ; W'> ' V' I ' W*i.. a Make Good Photograph Motinti. ^ The mednlllon tanpstrv snimrpu ?f.i ten used for library and parlor plllow?( . <? are sometimes converted Instead lnto: photograph mounts. The medallion! v-;i ,1; centre Is cut out, the edge turned back and neatly bound with gold or silver braid, and the picture Inserted. Ia this way the tapestry becomes a wall - ? hanging or may be, mounted Qn a 3tandard to stand on a mantel or large table. Tapestry pieces abont eighteen inches square should be selected. Luncheon Table*. ' ; $! For any luncheon, however elaborite or however simple, one begins to 1' A jet the table in the same way.. There must always be flowers oc.fruits, or sometimes both, la the middle of the S table. These differ naturally, with the season. At many large lun- , "$ :heons It is impossible to exchange i word with one's neighbor because of :he high flowers between. Many persons use silver on ihe table for flowjrs, but men with very aesthetic natures are apt to cry out. Still, a silver ; bowl filled with mullein leaves, cov- '$ jred with dew,', makes a charming J.vj study In color, anci In country houses is often used.' "SHtver vases and pitchers for flowers appear on most of the N fashionable tabled, although lovers of J the beautiful insfgt -on crystal, fine pieces of Venetian gjass, or even on V, luaint bits of potteSy for their flow;rs. People with lHtJe to choose Trom, therefore, need 'not bemoan a (1 'ate which compels them to use glass V ' ; ind not silver. A flsh-bowl is-ijfry 'erred by some people who hav^plenty A )f silver' to choose from. Ten-cebt V-^ rases, holding ferns and wild flowers. . ire chosen by some women in the rountry, rich enough to have'anything " ' r, hey want, but1 preferring the simpllclles and the appropriate at,all costs.? , . larper's Bazar. ' For Burn* and Bruises. N The most Important point in the ; ireatment of burns is.to at once ex-i jlude the air. Cotjtyn'wool saturated ^ : yith sweet oil is a .safe and Effective ' ippllcation. Do no|t,jrteinove.th4 dress- , ng until the Irritation has subsided. ' Js n the country mother^ often cover , heir children's burns with flour. In a] lerious cases a mixture of, sweet oQ md molasses is> favored^ Vaseline will lometlmes be sufficient. If the. air Is ' ; ceDt awav nature will senerallv re " ?= -?* >,' itore the tissue without other assist* 'y, mce. i _ Table oil or fresh butter rubbed ini* ,,-j aedlately on a slight bruise will pre- /''/:? 'dnt swelling or disfigurement. But f the bruise is severe of course a lit- ^ le raw-beefsteak is better. A slight . , iruise may often be best treated by compress wet with witch haoel. ' 5 $8 The first thing to do with a sprain \h') 3 to apply water as hot as can be r'. orne, and repeat until the pain Is one. The hot water may be showred on the sprain, or wet cloths may '';' e used if frequently renewed. The oot or ankle can be conveniently im lersed in the hot water. The next bing is to keep the injured part thor- -iV, ughly warm. This is done by wind- t 1 Dg it with wadding or flannel. The ess a sprined limb is used, the quieter .. t is kept, the more likely It is to get ; rell quickly.' S j if ^ Maple bugar Ice Cream?For a fam- j ly of four persons beat a cupful of ( oaple syrup without stirring it Break he yolks of four eggs into a bowl and 1 urn the hot syrup over them very slowy, beating constantly. When the eggs ind syrup are cool fold in carefully a lint of cream that has been previously rhipped, and freeze. ^ Baked Tomatoes?Remove the stems rom some nice ripe tomatoes of an ven size, cut them in halves and take >ut the seeds. Lay them in a buttered arthen dish, fill them with finely hoppeJ ham, add a little cayenne, ome grated Parmesan cheese and over with fine buttered bread crumbs. Jake ill a moderate oven iur auum hree-quarters of an hour. Frlcaseed Chicken with Oysters? Jook tlie chicken until tender, then /v ry in butter until nicely browned. .'hlcken tne liquid in which it was oiled with flour, made smooth in ont> lalf cupful of cream; add one pint ol ysters, reason with pepper and salt ud cook until the edges ruffle. Place he chicken on a ptatter, pour the oysers over, garnish with toast points nd ?erve. Old-Fashioned Buckwheat Cakes? Mssolve one cake of yeast in warm rater, add one pint of warm water, tr>rrx fnoannAnfnlci r\f coif* nnrl uckwheat to make a stiff batter. Let : rise over night, thin with uiilk; add tvo tablespoonfuls of molasses or suar. and let stand for oie bour in a -^3 rami place, then add two-thirds of a ;aspoonful of soda dissolved in a little rarm water and bake op a greased , ,| riddle. Conipolio of Calf's Feet?Get from be butcher three calf's feet. Split, euiove the large bone, wash thor- yjgfi ughly and simmer for an hour and a all' in two quarts of water, adding a j ill of vinegar, two teaspoons of salt | nd twelve peppercorns. In another ettle place two tablespoons of olive J l). two onions .sliced, two croon anu < no rod popper sliced, one-half can of cmiatoes; cooL twenty minutes, then ild one cup of cleaned rice and one line of the rich calf's feet stock, ana i s the rice swells continue adding the lock until the rice Ins absorbed all It j an. Before removing from tbe fire , dd the calf's fc?t and ji snltspoon of eppcr. D'.^h surround-.* i w!ib tweu- J y-four bluach-d aad stoned o.ivcs. I