Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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wvwww If LUKE R || THE 1 11 By Prof. Wn, H?ory P II AaHwrefAe^mSiow-Oitl I | of Lfafco*," Etc. CHAPTER VIII. Continued. "Never mind the will now." aald Luke. "We shall And it. if it la to be found, and we know it la in the house. We must prepare to meet Jamea Greere. who will soon miss bis Kate and begin a search. I overheard him tell her be would meet ber at 7 o'clock thia evening. You see it is nearly 3 in the morning now. Before this time tomorrow he will lead the police here, for the scene that passed between us last night will stimulate us to Instant action." "Very true." said Nancy. "Very truer Parrot! Hare you no Dlan?no plot in that cunning head of yours by which we may rid ourselves f him?" cried Luke. "James Greene will ruin us if be is sot deceived," said Nancy. "We cannot deceive him," cried Luke. ** Tls you who are underrating him. I tell you be bas an eye like a dirk, and I felt it darting through me last night. James Greene must die!" Nancy Harker heard this without a tremor. She had arrived at the same dread conclusion. "If he lives we have to die." said she. And drawing the decanter of brandy Dear ber she poured out a wiueglarsful and drank it herself. "I have never felt so chilly in all my life." said she. hiverlng. "He must die. Luke, for obr exposure will draw the fingers of the law over our past lives, and uncover more than enough to hang us, bad we ten lives." "Right." said Luke. "And now to get him into our power. Not only must he die, lest be shall ruin uh. but because be is Henry Elgin's intended heir." "And what shall you do with Henry Elgin?' asked Nancy. "I have my plans." said Luke. "Now keep your mind on James Greene. Do jou know where be lives';" "Daniel can find out." said Nancy. **I know, and so do you. where he works. He Is not a journeyman, but has a shop of his own." "Very well." said Hammond. "Now here is my plan: I will forge a note in Catharine Elgin's band asking him to call here at 0; saying she cannot meet him at 7?and tiiat He must come disguised." "Why disguised?" asked Nancy. in wonder. "That when he shall have disappeared," said Hammond, in a whisper that sounded like a serpent's hiss, "men may not say, 'James Greene was last seen entering Luke Hammond's bouse.'" "Brandy has not dulled your wits, after all," said Nancy, admiringly. "Brandy does not affect my brain; it nerves and hardens uiy heart Push the decanter this way. No! 1 roust crush the habit?it grows! it grows!" He pushed back his stiff, short hair and continued: "The note mui>t tell him to come disguised as Luke Hammond." "Disguised as your' cried Nancy. "As me," said Hammond. "Ho if of Bay height?slim, too?though muscular. I wear my hats of a peculiar shape, and always white. True, he wears no beard?that is easily supplied. I wear a hlack silk cap over my hair, and nnder my hat, in the street. The necessary articles, with one of my costs. Daniel can take in a satchel?a white bat Greene can get anywhere. The note will teil him Luke Hammond has gone out of town for a few days. Old Fan will meet blm at tbe door, and tell him Catharine Elgin wishes to lee him in tbe eastern \ring; be will follow her. and tbe will lead blm through the ?ld store-room. Do jou know what la In that store-room. Nancy Harker?" "Ye*?a trap-door, opening from below. and Immediately over an old well, tbrlty feet deep?rocky at tbe bottom," aid Nancy, witb sparkling eyes bat Uvid face. "Not rocky, Nancy Harker. No rocks; or, if there are rocks, they are covered witb a depth of six feet of ooae, slime and mad. An alligator toeeed In there would suffocate," said Lake. "And when old Fan has led blm into the storeroom, what then?" asked Nancy. "James Greene will vanish and bis placc shall be known no more among the living." said Hammond. Nancy Harker shuddered and asked: " np wiiii; reioovm, wun iuru.**The papers will become full of the mystery." wild Luke. "Perhaps, after few day?, his body shall be found floating in the East River. The certainty of his death will so weaken Catharine Elgin that, to nare her father's life he will reveal where she has bidden the will." "To save her father's life!" exclaimed Nancy. "Yes. I shall threaten to remove hlui also." Raid Hammond. -Then?the will found and de atroyed?" askrd the admiring Nancy. "The same threat shall force her tf consent to marry iny son Charles." sail! Hammond. "I expeel him every hour." "Suppose Chajles will not uiarrj her?" xaid Nancy. "Ha! woman! do you think he wouK disoltey hi.* fnther!" cried Hammond to wboiu this contingency had nevei occurred. "We did ours." said Nancy, very ab wptly. "True; I must think of that," sail Hammond. "Take it as a fixed fact that Charlei -Will refuse to marry her." pemistet Nancy. "We must be prepared at al points." "Then, by my blood.'* said Hammond I will marry her myself!" "You! She thinks you are ber un tkr "2 will undeceive Lc*r. Naucv Har AMMOND, \ I MISER. 11 ??aa3>?3>3>??3>3>3a; I eck, I Copyright 1*M> 8 | I t>7 Bobsbt Bonsai Bon. 8 8 g (iflripMifwrwi) J | J Iter." said Lnke. "You know I am no I mnM hw ntiola than T)>nl?l la. I beirln to love that girl. She looks like a queen." "You are a fool," said Nancy. "Why not forge a will in favor of yourself. If you can destroy the genuine, or force Henry Elgin to make one In your favor T "Nonsense!" said Hammond. "Men? the world would suspect villainy at once?tbe law might smash the will to atoms?besides, I should have to remove Elgin and his daughter. Too much removing, and I dread to forge." "True, and Justly." said Nancy; "remembering how your fingers have been burned in other cases." "Speak low!" said Luke. "We may place ourselves in the power of the servsnts." "We are now, as for that," said Nancy. "And they in ours; 10 we'll all float or sink in tbe same boat" "Tell me." asked Nancy, after a long pause, "if you shall succced In forcing Henry Elgin to make a will in your favor, and In forcing Kate to marry you. or ycur son. what guarantee have you that Henry Elgin or she will not on first chance denounce you to tbe authoritiesr "Idiot!" exclaimed Luke. "Do you suppose I shall ever permit Henry ElI rrtwt ?n looru ?hla hnnui filivo? TR ho tint already dead to tbe world? Could I or be account to tbe world for bis supposed deatb and burial? No; Henry ElKin only lives until tbe genuine will shall have been destroyed." "But if James Greene be destroyed, wbat matters tbe will?" asked Nancy. "If it should ever be found, foolish woman." replied Luke, "people would remember the disappearance of James Greene. Then in their minds would exist a cause for that disappearance?tbe will In his favor! That cause would be that another might possess the estate, and as I would be tbe possessor, ha! Luke Hammond might liang for tbe murder of James Greene!" "Good!" said Nancy. "You are careful. But after Greene and Elgin shall have been removed, and Kate has become your wife, or the wife of your son, what security will you have that her hate or vengeance shall not consume you as fire does stubble?" "She shall remain a prisoner until tamed to lore ber husband, or?go mad!" said Hammond. "Go mad!" exclaimed Nancy. "Go mad. or die?but that is far ahead as yet." said Hammond; "nnd the present is more to be feared by u* than the future." Neither of the wicked pair cast a thought toward the great and awful future of the life after death; or. if either did. 'twas not shown by word or look. "And now," said Hammond, placing writing materials before him, "for the decoy note to James Greene. He has a note of hers in hand?I heard ber tell him that she sent him one inviting him here. She keeps a diary?you will find It in her room." Nancy Barker harried away and soon returned with Catharine Elgin's diary. Hammond placed It before bim as a guide in his forgery and began to write. "That note may be left elsewhere by James Greene." said Nancy, wishing to display ber shrewdness, "and may guide a search for bim hither." "I am providing against that," said Hammond, as be wrote. He was a skillful penmnn. and soon read his production as follows: New York, March 10, 18 . "My Dearest James?Mr. H. has gone to Baltimore on business which will detain him for several days. We must Improve the opportunity. Unfortunately I am quite 111 to-day, and unable to meet you at 7, but you must come to see me between 9 and 10 to-night. Together we will seek for the cause of the mysterious noises in this house. "As Mr. H. has spies all around me. and especially one who resides opposite. and who will tell of your visit if you are recognized, you must come in disguise. I have bribed Daniel, one of the servants, to take this note to you. and Fan. tbe cook, to open the door for .vou. Daniel will furnish you with a disguise which I have selected. Old Pan is very deaf and near-sighted, and as I fear Mr. H. might return I have told Pan von will cive her this note wben you enter. She will lead you into the parlor and then bring the note to me to assure me of your presence. I will then meet you in the parlor, or Fro will conduct you to me. "You must not fall to come under any consideration, dear James. Ever your own. KATY ELGIN." "How's that?" said Luke, placing the noie before Nancy. "Excellent," said Nancy. "Flad I ! not seen you write It I would have sworn Catharine Elgin wrote it. Hut *' "But what?" demanded Luke. "If be should not bring this letter? He may thiuk a note in reply assuring , Miss Elgin of his presence will be I enough, and that old Fan will not no tice the difference. You know lovers . treasure the let tern of their t?eloved. Besides, he may?there is a possibility I ?leave the note behind, or show It to some friend." "James lireene will not show sucn a note to any one. lie is of that nature . to consider it a sacred thiug. Hut if he should leare it behind it would not I matter." "How so? You arc foolish," said } Nancy. 1 "No, I am cunnki*. The ink with I which I have written that note will fade from the paper within twenty , hours. 1 have used it often. I can grade- its durability no that it may last a week, a month, or a year. 1 have written personal obligations, not trnnt> ferable and borrowed uionev with that Ink. When the holder of my note / brought It to me, when doe, the note * had become black paper. So If James Greene does leave this decoy letter be- A hind, long before hit absence shall have become remarked by hit frlendt not a vestige of the ink will remain, * I assure you that ink hat been of great use to me." he added, folding and backlog the forged letter. "If jou don't succeed," said Nancj, with a burst of admiration, "old Nick givea you wit to destroy you." a "Right." laughed Luke. "And now c iwv In tuut It la nonplr d ftVlnflf anil K ?v .v ? ? J r you must be sleepy." J, "And you, Luke?" said Nancy, at she pose to depart. r "Cannot sleep; have not slept in my ? bed for month*. Nancy. I sleep in that m large chair. Ready for flight or tight, ii as either may seem best." "You are childish. Nothing can bin* c der me from sleeping." u "No? I will tell you something to keep you awake." jj "I defy you." replied Nancy. p "Listen," said Lnke in a grave voice. "John Marks has been bt.re to-night, JJ What do you think he told me?" I t< "That he wanted money. He always *< did. the spendthrift," said Nancy. jj "Is that the way you speak of your b husband, Nancy?" * "Husband!" exclaimed Nancy. "A * lie! John Marks and I separated years ; " ago." J C "True. You and John Marks could ; * never agree. 1 did not tell him you j * were here." ti "Don't. If you do you'll regret it!" i ? said she. * "Won't that bit of new* : ?ep you j awake?" asked Luke. I ii "Not a minute," replied N. y. 1 "Well, then. I must make m ;>rom- > \ ise good. John Marks told me that h there is now iu New York a woman P named Harriet Fosa!" i Jj "Harriet Fobs!" muttered Nancy, ti sinking into a chair and staring In ter- I ? ror. J "Ho! That'll keep you awake. Nan- ti cy." sneered Luke. 1 "Can you sue<;r and know your dan- . gcr while Harriet Foss lives. Luke?" j jj "Hah! I have already prepared fol n bcr removal." said Hammond. "John h Marks will take care of her." j J "Sjteak out. Luke!" cried Nancy i % "Have you employed John Marks to-? I t??- ; "Now do you speak out. Nancy," said 1 o Hammond. "No, I have do design ou ; t her H.'e." j J "Good-night" said Nancy, as weak i a and pale as if just from a kwoox j o "When John Marks calls here again . " lei me sih? him." ! * She departed, leaving Hammond ! p alone. I * "Ha! she wants to see ray friend, j j" John Marks." said Luke, locking the ( , doors about him and tatting his brandy ; j< largely. "I know what she wants of ; g him. Nancy is a terrible woman some- ! v limes. i Hammond then seated himself in bis * sleeping chair, and soon fell soundly ? asleep, with cocked pistols on the table before bim. Luke Hammond was dau- b Serous game to take alive! ! ? CHAPTER IX. * 7A* AND KATE ELQIX. e While Hammond sleeps, plotingevcn | j, ?u his dreams, we will visit Kate El- j it gin. as she sits in her chair, with old I ?' Fan crouching on the floor, her crooked * back against the door, and her distorted e yellow eyes, bloodshot nud tierce, star- t Ing at the unfortunate girl. n Luke Hsmmoud was right when he t, said Kate Elgin planned, but she' l< planned first of all to establish some !' means of communication with her , father! a "The heart of Mrs. Harker Is a C flint." said Kate, as she surveyed her * strange position, when that evil woman I b was in the room. "I will have nothing j b to say to her." J After old Fan bad been installed as 0 guard for the night, and after Luke t Hammond's last visit Kate resolved f1 to speak. "Fannyr* said she. h "Xo? my name is Fan?old Fan," saia ; 1 the old woman. "When I was young j * and pretty like you, tliey called me 1 I Pretty Nellie." ! >< "They? Who were 'they?'" asked {' Kate. To be continued. fa ? V PUPILS' ODD IDEAS. Mtdirai From Amwtn In Public School l Uxainlnotlon*. 8 The World's Work prints these ?e- J lections from answers in public school t examinations: ji "Apherbility is the state of being an f apherbile." { "Afferbility Is the state of being In- i sane on one subject only." * "Serenade, a greenness as of grass." , " ? ?l I- -.I.-- It I. mn/1n _ iteverucraiiuu i? w uru h jo uuu? ? again into a verb." "The equator Is a menagerie lion run- ? ninp around between tbe North and t South pole." R "They climbed Vesuvius to sec the J crator smoking." "We celebrate tbe Fourth of July I i because Jesus bid us." J "Vengeance. Defn. a mean desire j, to pay back. IUus'd. 'Vengeance Is v mine; I will repay. Faith tbe Ix>rd.'" * "Ingenious, a stupid person, from in. c not. and genious, a smart person." c "Discretion, a difference of sex between animals." , "The early Briton wore a skin, he tied It at tbe waist. He wore legions | J on bis legs. He had eyes of a blue J } shade which plainly showed bis semi- j i civilization. He wore on his feet inoc- j I npslons or scandals." v "Grand Open. The only Grand Op- c era kuow is Wang." c "The Te I)euui is a Grand opra." "The British museum is the piiu- t clpal building iu Paris." i J "Aristides was a god: bp was tbc j t female cod of Phoenicia." * "Hannibal was an early (.reek ex- j J plorer who wrote a book called Herodi- f tUS." I "Virgil was a Vestal Virgin." "As I roamed in the deep woods I * J saw a herd of greyhounds huntiug for j i prey." j c "Julius Caesar was the mother of the ? Gracchi." r c Prostrate. "Well, Pve lost the Job he gave me." t "Too bad. Isn't there anything tor F you to fall back on?" "Not unless somebody digs a hole under rae. I'm Sat uow."? Philadel*. J uhia Pres>s r L SERMON FOR SUNDAY If 4 N ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED J "GAMBLING." r <j bars W X* Such Thlif h Cl??nr??All j Tkat Thar* la, la a labjictln Uocar r tainty - Sctanc* Hu Cbnaad Chance | Unt of the L'niverac. New York City.?At the South Con- j regational Church, Brooklyn, the pastor, t ? Hh?rt .1 I.vmin. D. D.. nreach?*d i sermon on "Common kthical Illusions onterning the Practice of Gambling." He ?'ected one of the Ten Commandment* >r his text: Exodus xx: 15: "Thau shall ot steal." A direct pulpit address upon practical rery day morality is exposed to one very bvious embarrassment. It is this: Many ersons .'eel. and with a great deal of rea?n, that a Sunday sermon, and especially i the morning ot the Lord's Day, should c a broad setting forth of religious truth 1 general term*, clothed in form suffilently elaborate and sufficiently artistic 3 be intellectually attractive axide from jy particular application. A most striking lustration, perhaps, of such a sermon evoted to the exposition of one great hase of religious truth and of the divine haracter was that delivered, as 1 gather, rom .his pulpit last Sunday morning, by ur honored friend. Dr. Herrick, of Boson. We come to church, one might say, 0 worship and to hear the Scripture exiained, and we do not care to hear our linister made a "dead set," as it might e called, upon a certain foible or vice rhich wc are almost all entirely against. !v feeling is that there is a deep propriety 1 this sentiment. Preaching, like prayer, hould be for all. On the other hana, a hriitian minister ? a Christian pastor ( rho it pastor more tbar. he is preacher?is t watcher for souls, not in the mass, bnt or individual souls. He stands as the j rinity of watcher*?teacher, pastor, watch- i r f >r individual human lives. St. Paul at . Iphesus said he bad warned every one j ight and dav with tears?every one. I need make no apology for continuing ? train of ethical appeal taken up ; wo weeks ago, for I have l?en asked and reed to do so by tome of our young men. Vithin the last fortnight various echoes ave reached roe of the address which this ulpit ventured to make in favor of a ign morality and especially moral freeom. which makes all-round preaching; be freedom to ho?d as well us the freedom o give way. Among those echoes there ave been some references to the practice f gambling. Young men have said to me hat most people have no idea of the exent to which certain forms of gambling re prevalent in this great city, extendag all the way from tbe boyish practice of latching pennies up to playing for high take* in the gaming house. On the other and, others nave said they did not see rhere the real wrong came in by buying hanc?s, on the races, for example, ana takes at card. All had an equal cnance. In the same spirit, therefore, as that in 'hirh I tried to r>peak two weeks ago, trustig to your ?ympathy in my effort to reach ur young people, 1 wish to say a word or wo this looming on ethical illusions conerning gambling, i am most anxious of 11 'hat whatever I say shall be said fairly nd not from a prejudiced or bigoted |>oint f view. I do not wish to confuse things rhich in themselves differ or produce u|>on ny young friend an impression of mere ntoleiant antipathy. It may occasion surrise that so severe a text has been chosen, or vou will say: "Gambling is not stealag, ?p.d vet I cannot help thinking?and he more I think about it the more coninced I am?that the text does fit the subtct. There are some difference* between amhhng and stealing, and they ought to e admitted, hut, at the heart the two are ery much the same, \-ery alike. Shall we 1 1 L ** nnf in tWAV of ? IICII nni* 41 k fcM a Iii?k?v , MV ... , | -cited and vehement denunciation, but in he sober, brotherly fashion as though we rere tilking at home? First, then, the difference between gamling and stealing. Stealing is without the 1 nowledge of the person stolen from: gam- < ling ? with the knowledge of botn per- 1 ons. Gambling invokes the presence of a 1 hird party, namely, chance, whose pres- ? nee is supposed to change the moral na- ' ure of tne tiansaction. On the other < and, gambling resembles stealing becau.?e ' t is taking something for which no return ' i given?no return at all. In legitimate J peculation the 'teller receives something ' rhich at the time he believe* to be the ' quivaient of what he sells. Otherwise the < ransaction is unjust. But in gambling j inetv nin? men sell out to the hundredth ' mn and fet nothing for what they sell. I ' ave sometimes fancied that a moral paral- ' ?1 may lie run between gambling and duel- < ag. Gambling, like dueling, is a moral ' ivbrid. That is, a cross between a clear 1 rrong and what may be right. For ex- ' mple. murder is wrong; war inay be right. ' ambling is a cro?s between murder and ' rar. So stealing is a clear wring and spec- < lation may be righ^ Gambling is a cross etwevn stealing tod speculation. But oth gambling and dueling dwell in a moral wilight and are absolutely as immoral and t angcron* to siciety as the very b'acknes* | f midnight itself. Now, you will notice j hat in both gambling and dueling a third | actor is supposed to enter, which neutral- | tes the moral wrong. In gambling the ele- , sent in chance; in dueling it is honor. I/. ( lowover. we look at the matter we shall, I j hink. find out that chance in the one case ( nd honor in the other is not a reality but < chimcm?but an illusion. That is what ( mean hv the illusion of gambling. There < i no such thins as chance, really, and that , i where the illusion coines in. Let us j Dok at this. , There is an amount of mental juggling, a , laic over men's eyes, a witch's maze, in , rhich the idea is that chance in an objec- , ive fact. Now there is no such thing. All , hat there is, is a subjective uncertainty, , io objecti\e chance at all. There is no , uch thing as chance. Once traveling . long the Connecticut River Valley I asked i Germau who was with me to tell me omcthing abojt German metaphysics. He lointed to sone holes in the banks of the iver, in which the ground swallows had I iuilt their ne<tts, and said: "You see that I >ank?" "Yes." "You see those hole* in ] rhich are the swallows" nests?" "Yes," ' aid 1. "Now," said he. "take away the j tank and leave nothing but the holes and ou will have an exact definition of (Jer- ' ' * ? ?'aI .1-!. i nan mctapfjysics." Ana no u is wmi mis dea of chancc; there is no such thing ob- 1 sctively as chance. On* hundred men cach 1 lave a chancc. No such thing. The act- 1 lal fact is that just one man is certain to I et a prize?if he is certain?and the oth- j rs at certain not to get it. Therefore ' hey have no chance. One man lias a cer- j aiaty and the others have no chance. J They all have simply uncertainty a* to ' irhich man has a certainty. Suppose that I ome ,'udgc who is distributing the prizes i tad sufficient foresight to know exactly ' rliich way the ball would roll. He knows ! hat and the corresponding number in very man's hand. Science has chtuod hance out of the universe. To the eves if the intelligent chance has ceased to lie. There is no such thing in all this world, i There is what we call a law. but there is I to chrncc in the case; it is all law. liesidc, taking your own ground, even if here is such a thing, there is only one I hancc <>ut of a whole hundred which will (ccon'c a ccrtaintv. "Well." yoti say. "it i * a good chancew Yes. that is ij good i hance. "A's chance is g??od, then?" i lies, but B's chance is poor. In other i rords, one man's chance neutralizes an- i ther; therefore, there ai?* no hundred ( banc's. If you have bought one good han?e. then ninety-nine have paid for a ] >oor chance. What equality is there in j hat? Thus even on your own ground here is no such thing as chance. And, rom ihe hieh standard of science and act:ai firt, there is no such thing in this v-orld, in the entire universe, as chance. , Cinetv-nin" have Ixiuglit nothing, ami you I lave taken their money. ami u >ou umi i i eel mean in taking it you are meaner than I thought yhi were. What moral right. < hen. is left to gambling' No moral right t all Xo juMicv whatever. It i? clear, < lean, absolute, unequivocal wrong. Noth- I nz i* left but the excitement and the uncrtninty cs who is the certainty and the I ra^y hopt of getting rich without paying | or it and whoever entertains it is run- < ting against the everlasting laws, and you | an dig his grave. Now. finally, ] uant to remiml you where his mental jugglery ends. It ends as a toiton ends. It is a noison of the mind, an I nt?lleclual poison. Just ns poison rnttn he tissues of the ImmIv and net* upon the ystem. mt it fccts upon tli?? intellect. At irst it excite*, then follows reaction. Then nore of thi prison w taken, with similar cacti o? and again more u taken and wore I taction. So. tbm is * constant play and nUrpiay between taking more and more ,nd more of the intellectual poison with be reaction. God help the man, for tbe indertow baa cot him! Mr dear frends, there is something to ne absolutely appalling about getting unler the power without knowing it of that :ind of intellectual poison. I speak earlestly because I have known and loved iftcd men wh" hare yielded to it and gone lo?*n. .The mental unreason that in in01 rd in gambling unhinges men's brains. ndu!ging in gambling become* something hat a nan can hardly himself stop. You tnow men never ?top doing a thing unless ? 4 1 - .1 -a ? t K?? I m'?l!V?" C'liuir* wuicn in riiuiuci > ?..? i notive that leads them to do it. The man ( toe- on and Roe* on until the impulse and | notive to do the thing becomf* stronger i han the motive that come* in to ktop it. lust the moment the impulse becomes . tr >nger than the ron?training motive then j t i? good-bye. it i> good-bye! Boy* beitin i >y lietting on marble* or putting up stakes j it cards "just to make the game more in- | ere*ting." It makes the game more inter- | sting to the devil. Then come* the race | rack. The more refined the man and the > ir?T the intellect the more surely the dis- I a*e. Nothing i* so ghastly a* the craving or gambling which get* hold of a tine- , ibered man. A few days ago a young man. i t church worker, to'd me of a man who *>nfes*ed to him that he had crept un- I lair* in the dead of winter to hi* little keeping girl and taken away the clothing hat covered her and the shoe* which she vore, nut them under his coat and slunk >ff and nawned them for rum?the demon urse. Now. with gambling the frightful nonomania is still worse. If there is any roung man here this morning who has any luspicion that the serpent is getting that 'oil around him. then quick, quick, or you ire a lo?t man! You are a lost boy! Juick! Get out of it now?! You had beter lock vour*elf in your room and live on iread and water. You had better hold :our hands in the fire until the vein* burst ban go on with the fiend of gambling. Am too u *gent? Forgetting the dignity of the nilpit? Let the dignitv of the pulpit go. "So home, mothers, and look on your own >oy'i face and thanV God that Vour boy s safe. Then prav for another wrhose bor s gone, or whom she thinks is gone. God's trace is great and she has come to her pas* or and spoken of this matter. Bv your kind indulgence I want to refer :o iust one more point. It i* sometimes iaid that gambling i* the product of busi>ev speculation. I do not believe it. Specllation. as its, latin origin implies, is e? ienti.i!lr a foresisht. It is an end?avor to ook ahead and determine valu?*. It U not in anneal to chance. We see the same root :o the word inspection, or the word rewectable or the noun specular. which is he same Latin word. Some forma of business speculation are, of course, un/air. but n a large business sense speculation is not ruessinr in advance, but looking in advanee ind I do not believe the two pro together, [n new. strong countries speculation is alnost alwnys the accompaniment of bnsi* ics opportunity. Rut in dead countries, mch as Snain was fifteen years ago. I have noticed that while business speculation ia ilmost dead, gambling is far more pr*vaent even than here. See the higher Ergish societv in Queen Anne's time, minisers. everybody gambled, but there wa? not nuch business speculation. No. my friends, t is idleness craving for excitement, illuiion. bad comnany. rnrrunting morals. Hiese are the forces that lead men into ramblng. All rambling, even the least, unler all circumstances, is like seduction and ilavery ? eternally unjust and eternally ivrong. It ia taking somethinr for nothin*. [t makes everv man his neighbor's foe. It orrunts soci?tv and undermines the fabric of the American state. It is unpitriotie ind against th* eternal Sinai. It divorce* ontract and its equivalent. Is there one we this qjornin". T wonder, who wanta lij dearest friend, his young brother, to 'top gambling* If so, in Goa's name, let iim stop bimaelf. A Csouaoa Cruelty. If accused of cruelty in daily life we ihould probably resent it indignantly, yet ;very time a person inflicts an evil mood jpon hit household or upon his fellowworkers he is tieating them cruelly. Most >f us are guilty at times, and we never itop to think that our innocent victims are itterly defenseless. Consider how quickly ill members of the family suffer when one wrings his depression to the breakfast able; how easily good spirits are quenched jy one person's moro?ene*s; how readily '? a?m/wnliaM r%( nnrrniiunpflu nf ill-natIITP >r phviical pain make* itself felt when :here it no effort at self-control. No one ids a right to inflict his bad feeling* upon >thers. and we realize this when we are he victims. But if we have not slept well, >r if we had a headache after a wearisome lay. or if some business matter has gone rronz, where is our own cheerfulness? Our hortcomings should help us to make ex u*e? for other people's tempers, but our Differing* should teach us tbe cruelty of elf-indulgence.?Congregationalism Look For tbo Good. If you would increase your happiness ind prolong your life, forget your neighbor's faults. Forget the slander you have leard. Forget the temptations. Forget the fault-finding and give a little thought o the caoaa which provoked it. Forget peculiarities of your friend*, and only remember the good points which make von ond of them. Forget all personal quarrels jr histories you may have heard by accident, and which, if repeated, would seem a thousand times worse than thev are. Blot >ut aa far as possible all the disagreeable* if life; they will come, but they will grow arger when you remember them, and the constant thought of the act* of meanness, ir. worse still, malice^ will only tend to nake vou more familiar with them. Oblit rate everything disagreeable irom vesterJay; start out with a clean sheet for tolay. and write upon it for sweet memory'* ?ake only tho?e thing* which are lovely ind lovable.?The Trumpeter. AITMtlaai of Horn*. If ever household affections and loves are ;raceful tiling*, they are graceful ill the |ioor. The tie* that bind the wealthy and the proud to home may be forged on earth, but those which link the poor man to hi* liumble hearth are of the true metal, and Itear the stamp of heaven. The man of liigh descent may love the halls and lands af his inheritance as a part of himself, as trophies of his birth and power; the poor man's attachment to the tenement he holds which strangers have held before, and may to-morrow occupy again, has a worthier root, struck deep into purer soil, liis household gods are of flesh and blood, with no al.cv of silver, gold or precious stones; ho has no property but in the affections of his own hear',, and when they endear bare floors and walls, despite of toil and sranty ineals, that man has his love of hone from Rod. and his rjde hut becomes a solemn place.?Char.'es Dickens. Clisraeio Vulldlnc. Character is the word of honor from which a coat of mail can be woven that the swiftest arrjw of shame or the keenest knife of disrepute cannot pierce. Every thought that enters our mind, every act we dc, and every word we utter, add* a link tc the golden chain of character, me strength of a steam engine can be cstimated to within an ounce of its limit. but it in impossible to estimate the force ot a noble character 'J'he hardest hearts are softened and the most repti!*ive disposilions l ecu me fascinatrig. Our failure* and >ur ?iucc.<?e? help to u.rin a reputation tli.it .nay he destroyed bv an external force, liut the destruction of a character can only Ik- effected by some internal force.?Our ISoys' Magazine. Great Nature*. fireat natures are always generous: they ire fountains, not only of vitality, but of liestowal. However great the rewards they receive may Ih\ the?e rewards are but a i fraction of the worth of the service ren- I iered. and no man ought to Ih.* satisfied, j whatever his position or work, unless he ; can feel that ne is giving tar more than fie is receiving; that a very large |?art of whit he does is not returned in moncv; that, however successful he may Ik> on the |iract:ca] side, he must still lie counted one 1 itf the liencfactors of his kind because ot the generosity of liis bestowal.?Outlook. A Tender Conscience. A t-nder conscicnce is a precious gift from (Sod. We dc^ not mean a scrupulous iMIR'.limc %:i nvu ... .. In J conscience governed by fear of it* own reation. Boln of them; are most troubletonic guests to entertain. But we mean a lender conscience which i# governed in all i tilings by tut- wuiil of (Jed. THE RELIGIOUS LIFE READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. r*wa: Teach Ms Thy Way-It la a Cbrl? tlM'i Dntj to Get Aim PMMibli Wtth All Carta tad CusdltJou of Xaa ?B? TOIotmi. Teach me Thy way. Oh, Lord! Help me to know The aerioua, hidden oath That I moat go. I am too weak and blind, My way alone to find, Oh. lest I go aatray, Teach me Thy way! Teach me Thy way, Oh, Lord! Help me to se?. The clear, the abiding road That leada to Thee. In ignorance I stand, Ana wait Thy guiding hand, In tender love each day, Teach me Thy way! ?Mis* Emily H. Watson, in New Yoik Observer. Art of LItIdi With Pm?U. We find life'a bent school in living with , people, says J. R. Miller, D. D., in Christian Won. Some one says: "It is better I to live with other* even at the cost of considerable jarring and friction than to live I in undisturbed quiet alone." It is not | ideally the eaay way. It meana oftentimes I hurts, wrongs, injustices, many a wounding, many a heartache, many a pang. It require* self-forgetfulness. self-restraint, the giving up of one's rights many times, the overlooking of unkindnesses and j thoughtleuneases, the quiet enduring of things thst it would seem no one should be required to endure. Nevertheless it is immeasurably better to live with neople, though it is not easy, than to live alone. Living alone nourishes much that is not rood ftnH hMatifnl in human natnre. It promotes selfishness. It gives self-conceit as undue opportunity of growth and development. It permits us to do too much as we please, which is bad training for any of us; to indulge our own tastes, feeling and whims without limitation, without protest, since no one is near enough to us to be seriously affected by our selfishness. Then it deprives us of the opportunity for discipline and education which we can get only by living in daily contact with others. One never can grow into true nobleness of charactcr, sweetness of disposition and beauty of life while living in solitude. "We need to have our sharp corners rubbed off, our little pet fancies punctured, and most of all to learn self-control, 'sweet reasonableness' and tolerance for other people's point of view." Then we never can learn the Iwson of love but br living with people. We may lesrn the theory of loving and be able to preach about it and write delightful stays on the subject, but that is different alto rctucr iiviii k^iuuk viic mmm?n iuiu ?/ui u??u live*. Nothing wiQ teach ua unselfishness | bat the practice of unselfithness under the i pressure of necessity. We cannot learn patience with others save in experience* which pot our patience to the test. The ! same is true of all the virtues and pracetH- i they can be acquired only in practical life, i People are the best means of grace to us. ! We often are helped to form character by ! the .necessity of patience and charity in j our dealings toward others, so in this we | have them to thank for an added grace, : however unwillingly received. It is important, then, that we learn the art of living with others. Jt should not be hard to live with those who are *wcet, gentle, patient, thoughtful and unselfish ?anyboav ought to be able to pet alone with such pleasant people. But not all j with whom we mingle are of this tlas*. | There are disagreeable people, those who i are thoughtless, uncongenial, exacting, ! quick tempered, unreasonable, sensitive, t and our duty of living sweetly with others includes these, too. . It may help us. if we will always remember. when we find it hard to get along with any one, that this is only a new lesson in loving set for us. Of course, it would please us if the disagreeable person hould hv some nrorem be anietiV chinned into sweet reasonableness and Christlike I agreeableness, 10 that there no longer should be any unrongenialtiy to fret us. But it is not probable that an? such miracle will be wrought to make it easier for us to get along peaceably. Almost certainly the task set for us must be worked out without any perceptible amelioration of conditions. The problem is ours?we mu*t meet it. It is ours to be Christians, which [ means Christlike, just where we find iurselves. Dr. J. E. Miller, speaking of the impor- j fence of guarding against discouragement, . tells us some plain, practical truths. He says: "When once we come under its intlu- , ence, it makes us weak, robbing ui of our j hope and making cowards of us. Many a Kfe is discrownca and drawn down to failure through discouragement. It is surely ! a sad picture?this greatest of the old pro- ! Bhets lying there under the little bu?h. in | ie wildernaM, longing to die. If Elijah , had died then and there what an inglorious ending it would have made of bis life! As j it was, however, he lived to do further glo- | rious work and to see great results from ! his contest with idolatry. God was kinder j to him than be knew. It is wrong to wish I ourselves dead. Life is G~d's gift to us, a acred trust for which we shall have to rive account. While God keeps us living ne nan someming lor ua 10 ao. uur pray- i cr should be for grace to? do our duty bravely and well onto the end. Prom Elijah's nfter experience w* learn that we should never be cast down by any discouraging experience*. The thing* we think have failed are often only slowly ripening | into rich success. We hare only to be 1 ; faithful to Cod and to doty, and we may i ; alwnys rejoice. What seems failure is often best succcss." fllvln* Tlisaks. I There are two waya of civing thanks? one by the lips and the other by the life. j The two ought always to bo together, but turh is not alwava the case. "Lip thanks" will surely accompany or flow from "life thanks." bat it is not always true that the spoken "Thank yoa" is accompanied | by life gratitude. There i* not enough of , expressed thankfulness, either by word or life. We all take things too much for granted. We seem to aaaume that the world owea ua at least a living and iorget too often that whatever comes to ua ; through the world ia sent us "from above, 4mm thr Father of I Faith 8lt!? of ib? foul. ! It matters not how faith comes, whether trough the intellect, as in the case of St. Thomas, or in the heart, as in the case of | St. John, or aa the result of long educa! tion. as in the ease of St. Peter. God haa ! ' many ways of bringing different character* to faith, but that blessed thing which the Bib!c calls faith is a state of soul in which the things of Cod l?eoorac glorious certainties.? F. W. Robertson. I I Make Us* of Endowments. Existence is not given to be wasted in j the prosecution of selfish plans or in advancing and executing triflin? ones. Time ' ha* been freely given, and with it a high ; eaparity to live worthily and a sure strength to do well. Let me remember that I am responsible for the use I make of these endowments.?Dorothy lJix. A Klessed Man. Blessed is the man who has a quiet chamber in his soul where hope and memory can Kit together and contemplate t'le memories ot God.?United Presbyterian. ITstch For the Conscience Fand. The Secretary of the Treasury, at Washington. has received from an unknown jwrM?n a unique conscience contribution in the shape of a watch with a sold or gold-tilled ease. It came in a package |>o?tmarkcd Piltsfield. Ma*s. The sender xavs in an accompanying letter: "Such as 1 have I give unto you for the conscience fund. The money I gave for the watch is more than i consider 1 owe the Government." SO.OOO Worth of Butterflies For France. President Loubet has signed a decree an Ihonzinp trie Museum or Natural History I to accept M. Boullet's collection of butter- I tlicn, which u valued at $20,000. j THE SUNDAY SCHOOJ^l INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENT! FOR APRIL 3. 4uUJ?et: Paal'i Ftrivtll to KphMW, AeH I 2S-3K?Golden !>*?. Acta XX.. M* Mraory Ttriw, 31-34 ? CoaiuralarT OB lh? Uty'i Lmmi. I. The character ot Paul's ministry at Epheaua (va. 18-21). It waa, 1. A ministry, of unwearied, diligent aerriec. (1) 'Hi nerved the Lord. (21 He served the people. He wan dfvoted and faithful, preaching publicly and privately and laboring witfi his hands. Ilia nenice was constant and arduoua. 2. Characterized by a wholehearted consecration. 3. A humble ministry. Paul bad a humble opinion of him* xelf. He ascribed to (iod all the glory- 4? A ministry of fervent sympathy. 5. A ministry of thoroughness and consequent ufifNijiui*: riVT. II. Paul? faithfulness (?. 23-37). b v the midst of bonds and afflictions, whilefacing death, he did not falter, bat prei<h#?d the gospel, declaring the whole counsel of (Jod, with joy. He myt, "I aa pure from the Mood of all men." "This form of expression is very striking. It w borrowed from the crime of murder, end the method by which guilt is ordinarily hrjught home to the criminal. Ia maajr rates conviction depends on blood being found in the clothes of the murderer. Thie \r the conception that leaps into the apoe? tic's mind." He is conscioes of bis per* formance of duty, and if any are lost whe had h<fird the gospel from his lips, their blood will not be required at hit hands. III. The elders admonished (ts. 2841). 28. "Take beed." "How unspeakable the !oss of a soul! He shudders at the thought, and in order to quicken their diligence when they should return to their labor heendeavors to impart some of hia own aax* iety to the elders. He, in effect, invite* them to look to their hands aad garments, to make sure there is no blood on them. "All the flock." The work of thcaa divinei ii i i * L -i i :? aA ? , Ji iv cauea ruinous. or ciuera, w w Mvyonv the chorrh of God; to nourish it witk truth; to lead it to the way of Christ; towatch over and guard against the entrance of evil, and to adminiatcr neb rait and discipline aa is divinely delegated. TW- ^ term "flock" is Christ's favorite future. The supreme motive is fidelity. "Over- " ee-s." "In the sending forth of Seal sad Barnabas we learn the truth which Pisf here declares, that in every genuine ap- ' ,, pointment of bishop* or elden it is tha- \ Holv Ghost who selects, calls sod annotate' to the office and the work. No valid aria* istry is exclusively man-made." "His ova blood." The death of Christ was aa atoa*, ? ing sacrifice; He offered Hinself to par* chase a pconle to His own service. The church is. therefore, of peculiar value?a value to he esteemed by the price paid for it. This is here called the blood of God aa being the blood of that man who was Gad manifest in the flesh. 1 j 29. "I know." Froai observation, from experience and from the insight gives bin bv the Holv Spirit. "Wolves." Tha wi* _# rrt. _ ?i W! i t_ .La mir? 01 i nnn ana nu cnarva. x iiuk w taught fa)*e doctrines. evil principle* and V bad moral*. and who brought worldlin?^_ I ind at.ife into the cbnrrh. Sach were like- | ly to come in abeep's clothing (Matt. 7: 15). under the guise of friends and A teachera. "Not ? paring." Seeking their > own *elfi*h intereata regardlesa of tfce .*; aonla thev might deatrov. 30. "Of your own aelrea." The ennaiag jg arv described. on the on hand, as raves* . Jm ingr wolvea, that ia, men who are aednoers -fj and murderer* of aonla. and. on the other, S aa fa)*e brethren who arise ia the church I itself, and who. with apecioua words, tnek -'v falae and dangerous doctrines. The foraMT JS& may be e**ily recognized; the latter are more inaidiona and dangsrmis. "Perverse thing*." "Truth* distorted from their jH true meaning. The mo#.' dangerous errors are truth* thna perverted. There is truth enough to mak? some believe them and er? rnr mntivh to ininre or rain thoae who do be'ieve." \ 91. "Wat^b." As a man ?n roard. ? "Remember." Mr cnanwl and admonition*. "Three yean." The history account* for two jwn and thre.s month* ' "j '' hap 10: 8-ift). and to this may be added' sj the time which probably preceded Hia H teaching in the synagogue. "The two. cl statements need not be conflicting. In tb? Jewish mode of speech, 'three yean* usedj 1 only connist of ooe whole rear and Darts o* m that which preceded and followed." "With 1 * tears " The?e show the tore, earnestmss. humilitr and tenderness with which Paal 1 pr^-"-heH eren the sternest troths. IV. The elders exhorted to unseMahnesa J (vs. 32-95). 92. 'To God." An ahrichty 4 support to those who tru?t Him. "Word nf His (rare." "The troths of the gospel. The gospel originates in trace; reveals zraee; nroduce* frsee." "Build yon up." "The foundation of faith had been laid, and the atructnre of a complete Christian character was tn he reared thronrh the in- f trumentelity of the gosnel." "An inher* I itance." Eternal life. The final *!orv and 4 h'eanedne^a of the redeemed. "Sanctified." Those who hare been made holjr. It is tloriouaSy nowihie to be sanctified?mad* ^ holy?in thia life. When the converted ^ per?on diacovera that ain still existe hi the J ?oul h<- ahonld iromediatelr come to Chriet | by faith for * complete cleansing. Ffeeee . j examine the foHowine Scriptures. 1. Pro- *j viniona are made in the atonement for the complete removal 0f all ?in fZech li: 1; , Eph. 5: '2S-27: Titna 2: 14: Heb. M: W; I ! .Tobn 3: 8). 2. It i? promised (1 Theee. 5: , 24: 1 John 1:9). 3. Commanded (1 Pet. ; 1: ]<U. 4. Prayed for (Pae. 51: 10; Joha 17 17: 1 Th~?. 3: 73). 5. It ia the office . work of the Ho'y Ghost to sanctifv aa well \f to regenerate (Rom. 15: 16: S Theee. ' 13; 1 ret. 1: 2). 6. It ia received by fkitlir j (AcU 15: 91. 33-35. "Coveted." I hare not made it nn object of my living among yon to obtain your proficrtv. Paul had power to demnnd li? .. tlia reward ft# ?U|ifn?rb 111 lur lUMi'm/ ?. . hiii Inborn, but he dH not chnoee to exerciae it. le?t it should bring th? chart* of hvarice asainst the ministry. Yet. in Gel. 6: 6 and 1 Cor. : 7-14. he .distinctly teaches that "they which preach the gospel should live of the cosoel." "These bands." Paul showed, both by example and pre* cept. that labor ia honorable. "The words." etc. The word* recorded here ar? ^ not in the gospels. bat they are in perfect accord with the teachings of Jem*. Jotut { avs that a great many of Christ's saying* are not recorded. "More blessed." "When the Lord intimated that the bliwinwrf > giving ia the greater He did not intimate 1 that tBc joy of receiving was small. He i pi x iaimii in one sentence the twofold (M truth, that the joy of Hia people ia obtcia* ,1 in* is zreM, am! Ht? own in bestowing it is irreater." n V. The closing scene (vs. 3R-38). 3MB. S "Kneeied." "The usual attitude of prayer. -H and the proper position of a suppliant. It indicates reverence and hnmilitv. " "Wept sorj." Wept much. "Kisaed." This was m& the common token of affection. "Sorrow* ing." This was a moat tender and aEtc- fl tionatc parting scene. May God grant to Sf every minister the spirit which Paul ? evinced at this time. R Kleetrirliy In TVorkBfn'i IlrmH. 9 Penr.yin-theslot ?as meters. and electric 'I meters, arc much more popular abroad m than iu America, where they are atill un- SB ruminon. Quite the mo*t limited service B in t!u* line. however, in to be obtained at I Sunderland, Kngland. where the Town Council supplies (urrcnt for lighting work- I men's dwelling* on this principle. For the 1 small ?um of one j?enny?two cents?de- J ixMited in the s'ot currcnt is supplied for H lighting an ei^ht-candle-power lamp for ? five and one-fifth hours. The lighting, of fl course, may Ik- ?>vcr as extended a period P i?h the user desire*, just za in the ease of B Gold Production. ^ l'p tn the year 1S48 Runm wa? the ^ 1 argent producer of gold in the world. . Dunne that year the production amounted ' k to twenty-two and n lialf ton*. To-daf K Au?traiia cnniw tir*t in the production of I tin* Drerjiiun metal, followed next by the t'nited State*. There ore at present aom? 10.VI gold mine* in Siberia, giving employ* ^ merit to about 120.000 hand*. M ffiw Zttltdd'i Buk Aceount. | The London Time#' correspondent Wellington. N. Z., nays that Premier Sed'^H don, speaking at Canterbury, ?aid tk*t^H New Zealand had M5,000,000 on deposit iB^Hg the bank*, and it the English money lend-BB er* attempted to dictate the policy of th^^H colony thev would be taught the 1cmoo^M| that they had better leave New ZeaLand^^H alone.