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[f LUKE || THE II 11 By Plrof. Win. Henry Pf 9 g Aofltor flf (kt SioM*Omi I I oiU+om," Etc. CHAPTER XIL | Continued. TacteM." uld Nancy, shaking Her bead. "I have already examined DanIcL He nyi when yon employed him, nor* than a year ago, yon directed him to pre cure Just inch a thing aa the laold, strong, of weak mind, and avaricious. Fan waa an old apple woman, whoee miserable stand was near the Bowery Theatre. Her home was a den under ground in the Five Points. DanId thought she would suit you, and ao engaged her. He knows no more about her.M Hammond folded his arms and knitted his heavy brows In bitter tknnaht hn? lanWk h* itnvk htl flat upon the table saying: "I do not know who the is?I do not wish to know. Nancy Barker, it la better for ua not to know.** M8o be It/' said Nancy, aa she rose. "Henceforth and forever, let ber be wbo she may to us, she is " "Old Fan! Nothing more!" exclaimed Hammond. MNow, bow are our prisoners?" "Doing well." replied Nancy. "Daniel paces the ball." "And Stephen?" asked Luke "Bleep*. It la his turn." A bell tinkled below aa Nancy spoke, and she continued: "The front door bell! Who can It be ?10 o'clock, too!" "Why do you tremble so. Nancy?" asked Hammond, surprised at her terror. "Two days ago. nay. yesterday, an evil spirit might hare waked you in the dead of night, and yon would not have quailed. Now the slightest noise nakes yon start and shiver as if a mortal sickness seised you." 1 "I know It. Luke I know it too , well," said Nancy, "and it warns me that I am near my death."' "Bah!" laughed Luke. "Ton are : thinking of Harriet Foss." "I thought my nerves were iron." * said Nancy. "I thought I was as 1 strong of heart as yon. Luke, but I de- 1 calved myself. . While Harriet Foss lives I urn sear my death." "Why more than 1?** "I am not" "Then be assured that yon will lire to share tbe riches of Henry Elfin with ae," said Hammond. "Be bold and brave again. Nancy. I want no cowards around me. Listen. Tbe bell rings again. 8tephen sleeps: Fan will not bndge a step unless commanded; go answer the bell." MI dare not." said Nancy. "I dread to open the door, lest a fierce and terrible woman shall dart jn upon me and tab me to tbe heart, crying: M 'Murderess of my sister! I've found you at lastr " "You are a fool. Nancy!" exclaimed Luke. "Turned coward after being brave for years. 1 will go. Is tbe hall "Ye*? be careful, Luke; if yoo should perish, what become* of me?** I "Perish! II Woman, you will make i a coward of me jet Men have struck < at thi* hrca*t and failed. Do yon think I I fear a woman? Bah!" And unlocking the door he passed ' out. Just aa the bell clattered again. i He strode on until his hand rested i upon the doorknob at the vestibule. < Then he paused for a moment, and when he opened the door his right hand < grasped a cocked pistol behind him as j he mattered: "A cunning man or woman must he or she be to surprise Luke Hammond." The form in the vestibule stepped in i at a stride. "John Marks!" eclalmed Luke. "Close the door! Bolt, bar it strong, ^ Out with that light!" cried Marks. "I am watched! Harriet Foes knows you ] are in New York!" , Hi* advice wss hurriedly followed, ] and Luke led the way to hi* library with trembling limbs. , After all his bluster he feared, as Nancy Harker feared, though he , showed it less. ( "Here is some one whom you know, | jonn Marts, saia lok?, u nancy , rose to meet them. j Man and wife, long separated, mutually bating, gased upon each other long , and steadily. , "Yea, It Is. or was. my wife," said John Marks. "Grown older than years could make her. I bring yon tvave ; news?what is yonr name now, | woman?" "One I have a right to bear." replied Nancy. "I married after divorce freed me from you. and my husband's name ( was Harker." "Was?" sneered Marks. "Then he is , dead?" "Yes. be is dead. Tbat is nothing to : John Marks." said Nancy. "Wbat news la this you bring?" TU tell it after my own fashion," replied Marks. "But first, can this light be seen from tbe street':" "No. Why do you ask?" said Nancy, growing white as she glanced toward tbe window. "Some people." said Marks, sitting down, "are very bold in seeking for others, that's *11. If a house is dark and shut up such people might rather' pass it than disturb its inmates with] harp questioning.'' Nancy Harker glanced from him to Hammond. The latter nodded and aid: "Harriet Foss knows I am in New York!" "Great heavens!" cried Nancy, claspins her h;>nds. "Does she know that 1 am here?" "Not that you are here." said Marks, lighting a cigar, "but that you are in this city." "She will find us? Ob, we arp to fall by h'T baud at last!" cried Nancy. Hammond pulled a bell cord violently. Marks smoked on in silence until fttephen appeared, rubbing his eyes and growling. VMMOND~ V: (IISER. I ! HBBBHBBBHBHBHK : Ck, I Coprrtrbtiw, | ^ I bj toini Boram'a Son. I f {AO HfUi rwrwt) J i : "Better be turnkey in tbe Tombs than bere; for tbere they had reg'lar boors 1 to wake a cove." "Stephen," said Hammond, "patrol the front and rear yards carefully; 1 then turn loose the dogs." 1 "Daniel told me yon were expecting your son to-night, sir," said Stephen. 1 "Right," said Hammond, "but the 1 gate wfcl be locked and he can ring the gate belL Then examine all the fastenings of the windows an around- ? doors and all." 1 "Somethin* uncommon gay sprung a 1 leak," ruminated the obedient 8tepben an he deoarted. "The cov'ner seems ex* cited?but that's none of my business." "You Mem very much afraid of a woman." said Mark*, when Stephen bad gone. "A woman!" exclaimed Nancy. "A devil, Jobn Marks. Now tell us bow be fonnd ont we were in New York." "First tell me wby yoc two fear ber so much," said Marks. "If I am to be your friend in tbls matter I must know wbat kind of ground I stand on." "Is it not enough for you to be paid for your services?" asked Hammond. MNo." replied Marks, tossing bis cigar sside and assuming a determined look tbat sat well on bis dark features. "For me to be paid for my services by strange ri ii all an bonest man like me can ask. Hut wltb a woman wbo bas been my wife, and my former brotherin-law, psy Is not enough, my friends. Last night, Luke Hammond, you took me by surprise. I did not expect to meet you bere .and yonr pistol was my first bint of wbo you were. To-nigbt 1 am nmiurail fnp war or He . laid a pair of pistols upon the table, and continued: "You two are carrying on some deviltry In this bouse. I know It. I bave made Inquiries about Luke Hammond. I want to gee Luke Hammond's niece. Don't scowl! I am not iifrald of either if you. More tban twenty-four years bave passed since we met. and I want that time filled up to my mind. If you want to know bow my time has flipped along, go to England, and you will learn that Jobn Marks was convicted jf burglary be never committed, sentenced to transportation to Australia for twenty years?served bis sentence, tnd baa picked up a scanty living ever ilnce. here and there." "Yu shall know why we fear Harriet Foss." said Hammond. "But as regards all my life. I shall take time to consider before I tell you. You have, rou say. been making inquiries about Luke Hammond. Does any one doubt lhat I am be?" "Not a soul, and I am eager to learn ^ liow yon managed the deception," said t Marks. . c "As regards that, yon shall learn ? when we have so bound you to us that ire shall not fear your treachery," said i Elammcnd. "Treachery!" exclaimed John, with c bitter emphasis. "John Marks was ] never treacherous In all bis life to you. c Dan you say the same of your conduct l ?ward him?" s "I told you," said Luke, gravely, c *wben you were here last night to call l igain. I need you. But first let Nancy >ay that to you which shall make you i >ne of us." "John Marks," said Nancy, "you were t race my husband. I thought I loved i rou?" "That was a mistake?go on." g "And you said you loved me." t "I lied, I admit it. I never cared a itraw for you. 1 wanted money, and rou had it" Nancy Barker's eyes flashed, but she f went on: "Tbe name I bore, tbe same my brother there bore before I became Four wife we hare sunk forever. That la of no consequence " "Yon simply disgraced It?that'a an," laid Maries. "If yon interrupt in this manner the ronversatlon ends here, and since yon xtine prepared for peace or war. It shall be war to the hilt!" exclaimed Hammond. "Remember yon are hi my bonae, and behave accordingly." "Very well, go on." said Marks, who teemed fierce and bitter in the preaence Df Nancy. She resumed. "You and my brother were bosom friend*. Yea were both ulld and dissipated. and the money supplied to you by indulgent parents wss not enough to ault you. Neither pf yoo could wait until nature should leave you the heirs of your father's wealth, for our fathers were rich. Neither of you were bad enough to take the life of a father. So, unable to wait, unwilling to slay, you robbed your fathers." "By my hand, madam, you helped us," said Marks. "1 do not deny it." said Nancy coldly. "I was as bad as you. You and my brother bad no trouble to persuade me to aid you in the robbery, and then to fly with yoo. But that you feared my brother's vengeance you would not have made me your wedded wife." "1 admit that had some influence with me. But as you appear to.be t going to make a long story of the affair < I'll smoke thrnutrh It." He produced a cigar and lighted It, nodding blandly, and saying. "Go on." Nancy continued: "We did not think when we planned the robbery it would be laid to us. My flight, we thought, would be considered an elopement, for my father had refused to listen to your suit?1 was too young, he said, and you too wicked. We robbed?you your father, we ours. But lest the deed should be traced to us w did not fly then, but waited to divert suspicion toward others. At the end of a week we feared that the truth < was rapidly approaching to ruin us. < Then we fled. Then you married me. I ami t'.ien we wrote to my father that I we bad committed the deed only as a I .... itep to become Dotted: that we loved madly, and knew do other wij to effect I union. We begged forgh'encB??we boped for It; for my father bad no daughter save me, and no son but my brother, and we were much loved children. We tbougbt the affair, In oui roily, a rare and pleasant way to bring the old man to bis senses." Here Nancy paused, for ber voice grew so husky that she could hardly speak. The Image of ber dead and dishonored father was rising in ber soul, but by nature bad and cruel, she soon overcame tDe emotion ana proceeueu | "When my father read that letter Ik ; (jaTe one sharp cry, sprang from hi* . chair, and fell dead." "Why speak of that?" demanded ; Lake, fiercely. "Marks knows it. TeU : him what he does not know!" "Let her take her own way." said , Marks. "If yon check a woman's story j the will have to go hack and begin again. Go on. Mme. Harker!" "The cruel tidings killed him on th? 1 spot." said Nancy. "What happened , then, John Marks T* "Ho! you want me to tell?" "Yea, I do. I wish to see how true , four memory la, that I may know bow to tell me something that you do not i know." 1 "Good. Well, your father died at foa said. His death and jour conduct made jour mother a lunatic?made her as mad as crazy can be. Too and joui brother returned to jour home. The robbery had never been traced to you, for your father's dying act was to tear 1 jrour confession to atoms. You and Four brother placed your mother in a : < madhouse?I must say it was the only !' thing jou could do. for she was savage, j, *avlng, dangerous]j mad! No one found i Fault with that Doctors said she j would never recover ? that was all! J right Then you and your brother sold be property, turned It to gold and went ! to London. I met you there, then, ; though I was hiding from my father. ( who was a vindictive old gentleman, ; ir.d had other sons besld<w me to love, j If he bad caught me I think he would , Have anticipated the puniiihment of the law and given me a more severe one 1 ban imprisonment. The knowledge of j' my guilt didn't kill him. He lived ten j rears after that. Well, you and I lived ; rery well together until our share of j he money was gone. Then we quar- ' re'ed ? you got jealous; I think we i 'ought a few battles with something inrder than words. We separated and j four uroiuer uuiuiura u ujvurcr lur us. . (Ve bad one child, and the law gar* lira to yon, because be was an infant." "What became of the child?*' asked : S'ancy, sternly. "The child," said Marks. "He died |' ess tban one year old. I went to his , uoeral. Don't yon remember? that < tm the last time yoa and I met ill to-night. 'Tis a pity tbe boy died. ( IVben he shonld bare grown a few rears older tbe law wonld hare given . lim to me. and with him to rear?well, wrhaps John Marks were now a better nan?that's all." i "Now." said Nancy, rising, "I will tell j rou what shall join you to ns. I knew ! , hat when our child sbould have ; rrown older tbe law wonld take him torn me. his mother, and give him to 1 rou. bis father. I swore to slay my i hild ere you sbould have him to rear 1 o love you and to bate me. Tbe child ] lid not die, John Marks. The funeral j o which you were summoned was that )t tbe child of my servant. Our child .1 till lives!" j! "Ha! traitress!" cried Marks,.grasp- 11 ns for his pistols. But a quicker band tban bis bad se- \ ured them, for while be was talking < Hammond bad stolen behind him. and is Nancy Harker said, "Our cbild still ives!" snatched away tbe weapons, iti?1 haw atAAil Kithln/l Kim with tha lull UUTV DIWU k^UIUU UIUJ Vf IIU UIC 'old muzzles touching the right and \ eft ear of Marks. "Stir a limb and 70a die!" said Lake, is tbe locks clicked loudly. And so imprisoned Marks was forced 0 quiet by tbe wily, daring man wbo ; teeded blm as an able tool. "You are no man?you are Satan!" ;ald Marks, not daring to turn hi* h?n?l > I 1 hair's breadth. To be continued. rapumlUltd Ju? Toppan. Neither ancient nor modern history urnisbes a parallel to the case of j lane Toppan, of Taunton. This worn- , in, tbirty-eigbt years of age. a found* ing in childhood and a trained nurse ! n womanhood, confesses smilingly to be murder of thirty-one of her patients ' ind gains fifty pounds while in jail | iwaiting her trial?so complete la her j iclf-satisfaction. Miss Toppan thinks the Jury is prob- { ibly right?that something is very ! lkely tbe matter with her bead. She ' tan'# aav Ittaf vhnt thai trnilhln Ifl At my rate, she feels no remorse. Dumas found no Jane Top pan for bis 'Celebrated Crimes." Had be discoT- 1 Ted one bis imagination need bar* -endered no assistance to tbe truth. Tbe astounding and disturbing rea> ore of the case is that this unnatural iroman. following the most womanly >f vocations, was able to turn sickbeds into death-beds for years with* >ut arousing tbe suspicions even of ittending physicians. She wss as skil-ul with poisons as cbe was gentle of iand. Her case reminds us again of be absolute conlldencc which suffering inmanity reposes in those who minis- , :er to it in its helpfulness. And it Is gratifying to feel that nothing in tbe raunton disclosures can or need riJsurb tbe confidence. . Jane Toppaus, >ven in miniature, aro rare in the nursng cult?too rare to be uuderstooU.? Sew York World. Ron|h ob tbe Convict. * -?t A- _ ? -1-1 .? A |Ma? According IU lUi uiu uuiuuirui JUII llscovered in Australin. says tbe Gold- , >D Penny, gold was first found by a convict near Parramatta In 17S0. Tbe infortuoate fellow was at once <barged wltb having stolen a watch ind "boiled It down." ami. being conrioted by tbe rude court of those early lays, was given 150 lashes for his - - .. . J in ins. in later years tne recoru 01 bis Incident was closely examined by in undoubtedly competent authority, srho was quite convinced of tbe genuneness of tbe convict's story. CuhIi Flourish ta Africa. Camels flourish only in tbe dry parti )f Africa. Some years ago a caravan )f these animals were loaded with joods near Zanzibar, and started foi Lake Tanganyika; but not one lived 10 see tbe lake. - ^ - A SERMON FOB SUNDA1 AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLEI .*? DOING THE WILL OF COD." At R(t. Jeha Ertkln Adam* Explain . the Profound Parpoee Vklch Animal ed the Lift ud Labor* of Oar Lord* Dancer* of tbe Spirit or Mitirlalliia. Xew York Crrr.?"Doinir the Will o God" was the subject of tbe Kcrmoi S reached Sunday morning by the Rev ohn Erakirit- Adams, pa*tor of the Hon Street Presbyterian Church. He took a his text John 4: 31. "My meat is to d the will of Him that tent Me, and to finite] His work." Mr. Adams said: There words express the profound pur pose which animated the life and labors o our Lord. He has been encaged in tha wonderful conversation witn the Kintu woman of Samaria, and to her He has un folded truths which have in part at leant been kept np to this hour even from Hi faithful followers. Things which had beei hidden from the wise and prudent are re vealed unto babe*. Some of the most won derful truths that Jesus uttered were t< tinner*; some of the most gracious prom ises to those who, like Himaelf, were de spised and rejected of men. To this out cast woman whose life was branded wit! shame, He not only reveals Hi* willingnes to impart the gift of God, the living water printing up into everlasting life," but Hi reveals to her His divine nature and Mes iianic character. '"I that speak unto the< un He. The woman ha* cone from HU prescno with a new hope in her heart ana a net light upon ber face, and the disciples ap proarh their Master. He must be nungry for the fast. like the way, hi is been lona and they offer Him meat. He replies: '. have meat to eat that ye know not of; M meat is to do the will of Him that sent Mi and to finish His work." Again does on Lord declare that mau shall not live b; bread alone. There is a deeper satisfac tion than that which comes irom gratifi cation of the carnal nature; th? satisfac tion of outreach toward lost souls- mei and women in famine, wayward childrei of the Father, and in that outreach; doint the Father's will, who desires that no one of these Kttle ones shall periah. Tha philosophy, which proved too profound foi those disciples is, we fear, just as incom prehensible to tbe commercial and mater lalistic spirit of this latter age. Tbe ones tion: What shall we eat and what shall wi drink? is more imperious to-day than ever Epicurus has his disciples still, and Mam man its shrine before which count!esa mul titudes bow. To eat, drink and be merry that is the world's definition of life. I have said that the words of the tex .f 1;f? Tkx (Apivu vsav Iruipuac vi vimow llir. amcj are the motive of all Hit deeds; the norn by which Hia every action is judged, "li the volume of the book it in written of Me Lo! I come to do Thy will, 0, My God.' The will of the Father wan the actuatini power of Hia incarnation. He knew n< other impelling force. It was this whicl turned His face toward Jerusalem for Hi final trial and triumph; it was this whicl Give to Him the victory in the garden o ethsemane. and enabled Him to put th< cup to His lips and drain it to the dregs In its glow all lesser lights paled; to its au thority all His powers were brought sub sect, and through its power all temptationi were beaten down, all personal ambition were destroyed, earthly distinctions an< emoluments rejected. His responsibility to the Father pressed upon Him when onl; a boy of twelve years, and deepened in Hn consciousness till it became the overman tering in pulse of Hu life. ' Responsibility to Almighty God was Webster's deflnitior of tbe profoundest thought that eou!< come to a man; the "Father's business' was the supreme bus in ens of Jesus' life He knew no other mission or message. And we are speaking truly when we rai that it waa this supreme purpose whicl save power and dignity to our Saviour'i character and work. Without it. Hia life however beautiful, would have been at bes an aimless one. Without that purftose o doing the Father's will and mamfestini His glory there would have been no coher cnce to Christ s deeds or teachings, but ii the will of God we find all that He woi and did brought to the focus; to do tha rill was His meat and His drink. Now what was true of Christ is in lik< measure true of every one of us. Wha purpose was and gave to the life of oui Lord, it must be and ;iive to us. We cai no more live lives of strength without th< deep impulses of a noble purpose stirrini within them, than can the vessel read ber destined haven without the eompn* ar the pole star. Behind all things are th< infinite purposes, Tennyson gives us th< thought: "Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one in creasing purpose runs. And the thoughts of men are widenec with the process of the sunt." God takes no delight in chaos or confu lion. His works are ordered according t< I divine purf>osc. Not only His work* o creation, which move in the harmony of j perfect plan, but those of redemption ant {race. St. Paul asserts that His manifoh wisdom is declared "according to the ter oal purpose which He purposed in Chris Jesus our Lord." And if God manifest: His glory in the accomplishment of Hii purpose in nature and in grace, and i Christ's life was lived in the light of a no ble purpose, how essential is it for us t< move onward in accordance with well dc fined plans, under the inspiration, aye compulsion of some aim in life, that shal |ive to life definiteness and coherence. Saint Bernard had over his study tab!' in illuminated letters there words: "Ber sade. ad quid venisti?" "Bernard, why an fou here?" The reference was not to th routine tasks of hisjife. These were de termined for hici. But it wu: What 1 the animating purpose of your life? Wha ia the meaning of your existence? 1 every pleasure and every task made suli servient to the one purpose; the one vu preme motive of your being? Amiel in hi journal records, "Life is a mass of begin ning* and ending*." We have all expc rienced hi* meaning. We have begun t< build, but did not finiwb. We have laid ou Slan* an i found them broken in upon am estrored; we have skimmed over the *ur face of thing*, but not gotten at their hid den meaning. And if we ask the reason i is evident. We have failed because in presiding purpose ha* woven the tangiet ikein into harmony nnd beauty. We liavi been dallying with purpose, we have beei half willing, we hav<> been hanging foreve in the balance, and to we have been losinj our grip on life. As a man purporeth in hii heart so i he. The difference between aimlensnes and decision is the difference between th stagnant pool, iving motionless, thick nn< !tmf hmthinir malaria and breedin: venom, and tii; cataract, which rushes on ward, a living, moving, plunging thine omethiug destructive m its energy, but i thing of beauty because a thing of life "Better an ignob!c purpoct even, say* I)r Pierson, "than none at all." Better to b a Saul of Tarsus, breathing out threaten inga and aUughter, but breathing, thai such a man as Robert Dale Owen, who con fesses: "I committed one fatal error in m: youth, and dearly have I bewailed it; started in life without an object, cvei without r:i ambition. My temperamcn disposed me to ea*e, and to the-fall 1 in dulged the disposition. I said to myself 1 have all that I see others contending fo ?why should I struggle? i know not th curse that lights on tnosc who have neve to struggle for anything. Had I createu fo mvtf!( it definite pursuit -literary, scien title, artistic, social, political, no matt? what, so there wan something to labor lo ind to overcome?I might have been happy I feel this now?too late. The power 1 gone. Habits have become chains. Throu-jl all the profitless years gone by 1 serk vain 1? In I?niflllln'r IV1 til mill or even 10 dweTl on with satisfaction, have thrown away a life. I feel sometime us if there were nothing remaining to in worth living for. I am nn unhappy man." The necessity, therefore, of purpose ii life js apparent. An<l the uuestion we a*i nuking this morning is a permanent one What am I making the supreme purnos of my life? The Homan maile martial ex ploit and supreme physical prowess the ?1? sidcratum of existence. He was trained ii the gymnasia; he sought to develop hi uodily powers to the utmost. And so h became a anlcndid animal. His legion were unconquerable, hut his moral natur was undeveloped, aad Kome tell heraus she was built upon power without princi pie and conquest without character. Th apotheosis of (ireece was aesthetics. Sh established her life 0:1 philosophy and art She gave them to the world, but perisho in the giving. Her art and her philosoph; f did not strike fundamental*. Greece and T Rone perished because they did not grasp ths divine philosophy of life; the trnto that "righteousness exalteth a nation, bat M * sin is a reproach to .any people." The supreme motive of their existence was car- ! nal. not soiritua). and so. being built upon I I he sands of time they perished with time. s A polvtheistic paganism: not too much of *' , God. nut too many Gods, that was their m undoing. And so we might particularize. What is true of nations is true of men, for it is ' the man that makes the nation. Any mo0 tive, rther than the highest, is fatal to p?r' manrnce and i>ower. in adopt any other . * motto of life than that which our iJord de- I , * clarca in the text?to do the will of God? ! j, 0 is to court destruction We r.eed this ? u warning to-day. We pride ourselves on the I fact that we are a peaceable and peaceful | '* peop:e. We enter upon war onlv as a der* j j. ' nier resort. We are reeking to develop the I * t industrial side of our life. We boast of ; p 1 our achievements in commercial competi- > * tion: that the balance of trade is largely , * in our favor. We point to the enormous s accumulation of capital; to our ever in- 7: i creJ??ing exchequer. We are tb?? wealthiest , * nation on the face of the earth. Our re- : *j - sources are inexhaustible, our possibilities j J a of increment unlimited. Bat herein lies ! t. - our very peril. It needs no figures to de- ; V - clare that the spirit of materialism is rife j g - as never before in our land. The dominv j nj tion of wealth becomes daily more cruel. J J" The quest of riches is more and more i ^ strenuous. "j Millionaires are not numbered by the scores, but by the thousands. Materialism j is rampant. Its interests are supreme. It 0j has been said that "market is beginning to q, dominate literature and art, instead of rt classic models and superior excellence. To- tl day men no less than things have their tl . price, and the money value is made the ti standard of the worth of an object. It ia p, true that in some quarters there is revul- r sion of spirit on this question. The pen- ,j dnlum is beginning to swing the other way. 4 We take hope from the thought that many are studying with insieht the gross mate- w rialism of the age. The prophetic voices against it are on the increase in the pulpit. Ignorant, vulgar and brutal wealth receives jr severer chastisements than a few decades q. since. Empty show, extravagant display j and seimo luxury arc kcd uy incRa?iu? y * number*, according to their hollowncs* t< 1 and iniquity. There ia a growing demand t| r for aimplicity of life, for aolidity. for ear- tj * neat realities, for ethic*, for spirituality. ^ w for better ideala, for deeper thinking and . jj, h for the inner aa well aa the outer develop- cj s ment of aociety. The leaven ia working. tj ' bat aa yet the lump remaina practically un* leavened. ij* What, then, ia the duty of the church ? '? and the Chriatian in thia matter? Do we I ju not need to atand where Chriat atood, to tj, 1 make the motive of Hia life the rapreme f motive of oura? Let ua remember ^>ur , ^ 1 nnostleship. We are ambassadors for j m 1 Chriat aa trnl~ as was Panl. Through as. I * through our lives, our thoughta. our ac- I tt tions, God is seeking to speak to the world. a[ i And what measage would He have ua ?{ bring? Ia it a message of worldlinesa, of j,, sel6ahnesa, of carnal desires, a message of q, skillful temporizing with His commands t|, and skillful attempts to make His claims u upon u? consistent frith luxury and pleasure and worldly conformity? There is no .?] doubt that many in our churches are aeek- w ing to apoly this sooorific to their con- 0. sciences; to be in this world and of thia ^ world, and yet belong to God. Let ua remember the words of the great apostle: gj, ' "Be not fashioned according to thia world. tl ' but be ye transformed by the renewing of tu ' J mar nrnr* what ia the ' your jiiiiiu, iu?i. jc uih; f(w.? .. * food and acceptable and perfcct will of m God." jjj j What was needed in Rome it not less I needed with us here to-day. Should there w< ? come aeeh a transformation, should there at be in every life the proving of the will of fa God, the whitened harvest would wait no R longer for reaper*; the desire of our Lord, io J which with aching heart He expressed that in t day of His conversation with tne woman of pi .Samaria, would be fulfilled. tr ; Elizabeth Fry waa a thoughtless girl of 0f t seventeen years, nacd to all the refinements st of luxury and a life of ease, wholly selfish w, and whollv useless, when God came to her th " through the voice of a Quaker nreacher. to She consecrated her life to God. Her ment H . and her drink were the doing of the Mas- fr ter a will and work. At the age of sixty. Ave she wrote: "Since my heart was ct , touched, at the age of seventeen. I believe ca . I have never awakened from sleep, in sick- |* , ness or in health, by day or by night, with- ft , out my first waking thought being iiow at . best I micht aerve my Lord." There could qt , be but one result from such consecration. m , God sent her among the outcast, and her "1 s life became a constant benediction. The w ? work she began in Great Britain among tr fcmale convicts spread all over the conti- at nent of Europe. Letters from crowned i f0 heads, as well as from philanthropic peo- co . pie in the common walks ot lite oegan in ar 1 pour in. inviting her to vwit the priromi H of other lands, and subsequently she visited <jj . Scotland, France, Germany and other counj tries, unon this errand of mere. evcr>*- cu f where hailed as an angel of peace and Jc i good will to men. The prisons of Eurone p 1 were reformed through her labors, and the er I Jaw* to punish criminals were greatly fn w modified in nearly all European countries, j, t Indeed the reformation spread throughout ot i the world. Thi^ was the work acrom- m i plished by one woman, who had submitted Wi t tier life wholly to the will of God. She was (,i . changed fron a thoughtless, fr volons girl u? j into a woman of great usefulness and pow- ? . er. But the power came because the pur- aj pose came. She gave full place to God. ^ 1 and to His plans: she put them first, and tc so God used and honored her. And what {r 5 was true of Elizabeth Frv may be true of nf . each one of us. We may not be called to i so nigh a task. We may find our horizon u circumscribed, ar.d our opportunities lim? ited. but if our meat and our drink arc to it ! do the will of God, the opportunities will _j t be many and the result* will be precioua ij t and permanent. 0f A Help Is Trosblt. i Hippy is the man who has made God hi his refuge and strength. No real harm can ti y ever overtake him. He has a refuge to n 0 which he can flee in every hour of temnta- n, r tioii or trial and sorrow, a refuge never tail1 ing. No matter what the peril, or what tl the grief, he flies to God and all is calm and rest. God ia sufficient for anything cj t that can arise. And our refuge is always u. a near at ^band, a vei^ present bel^) in (1 J trouD.c. mc nracinc uau Ui bCII IV HVV w I r long way to hi* city of refuge, but ours ia {r 1 always close at hand; in a moment we are J, r there. Happy also in the man who ran say, t) 5 "God is my strength." If He is indeed our p, strength we shall win every battle that we }? * tight. Our enemie* may be too stronc for (j s us. but they are not too strong for Him, ti t* "there is nothing too hard for the Lord." n i so there in nothing too hard for us, if He fc ; ii our strength. The trouble is that we r. - say that He is our strength while all the J] time wc are trusting in our own strength. s If He is our refuge and strength, not only ]j, '. in word and in toneue, but in died and in C( truth, then we shall never fear under .inv l' circumstanccs. not even though the earth - be removed, and though the mountains be i carried into the midst of the sea. " to f A rtir??-Stor> Hoos*. ' Every man live* in a three-story house, in j? The lower story is part under ground, u, J here he cats and drinks. Tins is his pliy- fu '* sical nature. Many men never Iea\e this ar basement. There tiiev live, there they die, n r never entering the stories that lie above, at ' -? !. * I tic wcona nory iu-9 ?uw?i7 %,wt r From its window* the outloo!; is wider, the mi r liciit i.i more abundant, and the air purer. rn _ 'Ini* in man's intellectual department. J(j Some z? l'P mto the second story often, ju and. though they do not abandon the liase- w, " inent, they use :t mostly univ for eating, re I The third story is the highe?t. m There the air, the xuuiigiit. the outlook are at tlie lie?t. This is I the spiritual realm, hew ri?e into it. In _ many eases dust and cobwebs are the ?olc ar * occupant* of what hlmulii I*.' tin* eiioieen re i iiart of the 1ioum\ Tin* wise man. while itfi lie does not abandon the bawnifnt 01 *ie (? second story, loves the llnril the ln'st ol i*| . all. and there spends mueli of in* tipie. an j "And tiie (JimI of peace lliiuselt sanctify er you wholly, and may your spirit, and soul Ai ? and boily Ik- preserved entire, without wl u li!nrne at the enming of our Lord .le>u* ??h ? Christ. Faithful is lie that e.illetli you, ?>u ,. who will also do it."? Dr. Joseph Strong. of . co t. The ^ulibtlh. e (ilod's altar stands from Sunday to Suni day, and the seventh day in no more for re- ( c licioii than any other?it i* for rest. The ^ <? whole seven are for religion, ami one of ca| . them for rest, for instruction, for aocial ! worship, for cainini; st.:.irtli lor tue other > mi.-li. W. Bccclier. {? HE SABBATH SCHOOL JTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR MAY 3. abject: Pan I Arretted, Acta **!., 30-I6 Ooltlen Test. 1. I'*t It., IS?Memory Vorao*. 30.33.Stod* Twin, Commentary on the Dny'a Uimu. I. Paul confers with the chnreb at J?ruilem (vn. 17-25). The day after their arvi 1 at Jrrurtiem the elders and leadera ' the church, of whom Judn, the brother f our Lord, was chief, met together, and a il gave them a report of his work. The 'ttlement by vote, eight year* before, of ic (mention as to the necessity of keeping le Jewish law. had not changed the opinn of all the .lewiah Christian*. Tbeir iendship at tbi* time wu very doubtful, aul was endeavoring by every possible leans to heal the brcaeb between them. II. Paul purified in the temple (va. 26I). Four men had come to Jerusalem to implete a Xazarite tow. Paul reluctantly preed to j?ay their necessary expense*, bd for a week to live with them in the >mple. and then to stand with them while jeir heads were shaved and while they >ok their hair to burn it "under the sacnce of the peace ofTerings" (Acta 21: 23, I: Num. 6: 18). This was not a comproriae, it waa a concession, but while Paul : tempted to refute cvrtain slander* he at le same time ran the risk of almost cer iiii luiii ruincumuu;i uu uiv uviivi niu*. he fcct that unexpected trouble grew oat [ it doet not brand his action* u unwise r wrong, for the Jews would have found >me other prrUxt if this had not come to icm. Their charges in r*rse 28 show leir attack waa premeditated. The queaon i. asked, Did Paul do right in thus urifyinz himself in the temple? Our anvcr is, Yen. What were his motives? He id not do it to avoid persecution, or even eath?he was ready to die in Jerusalem, [e did not take this course to gain favor ith the church, or for any selfish purpose, [is sole purpose was to gain access to the carts of these Christians and lead ihem i to a deeper Christian life. Read 1 Cor. 19-23. . III. The mob and the rescue (vs. 30-3B). aul was in the court of the women in the mple, in or near the room set apart for ic ceremonies of a Nazarite's vow. Cernn Jews who had been Paul's opponents Epheaeus were watchinc him. They id ?*cn Trophimus, an Epncsian, in the ty with Paul, and when they Raw PauMn ie court of the women with strangers icy ouppoied he had taken Trophimus ito the temple. They stirred up a mob Pmil aUo n im wnlk k?tnfisr nnl. ^auiziv * am, wimi?iiiil uiiii witu pvr led the temple. He ?u dra^d down le step* through the Gate Beautiful into le eourt of the Gentiles. lie would have ?en killed but for the arrival of the Roan guard* from the tower of Antonia. 30. "Wu moved." That a Gentile wm itering the sacred precincts of the temple >pears to have been sufficient to startle 1 Jerusalem. "Draped him." Paul wa? indlcd roughly. Out of the temple." at of the women's court into the court of le Gentiles. Thev wished to mnrder him, id yet not pollute the temple. They rained at gnats and swallowed camels. Doors." The folds of the Gate Beautiful, hich were of solid Corinthian brass, and >ened from the women's court to tha iurt of the Gentiles. "Were shut." Probity by the Levites, who had the care of le temple. They may have feared that le c.-owd would return, or some new disirbnnce arise. 31. "Seeking to kill him." There was urder in their hearts, and thev were beatg him with the expectation ot causing hia nth. But the onset was sudden, and they ere not furnished with proper weapons, id there appears to have been a little dev It was thin ahnrt rfelav that crave the oman officer time to rncw him. "Tidga camp." When a servant of Jesus ia great distress God sends him aid at the oper time without waiting for his pray*. "Chief cantain." The chief military Beer of the Romans in Jerusalem was ationed in the tower of Antonia, which u situated at the northwest corner of e temple area. He was nearly equivalent our colonel, and commanded 1000 men. is name was Claudius Lysias, as we learn nm chap. 23: 20. 32. 33. "Soldiers and centurions." A nturion commanded 100 men. The chief ptain ordered out a force sufficiently rge to overcome all opposition and reore order. "Ran down. The tower waa >ove the temple on the hill Acra. This lick movement on the part of the Roan soldiers was what saved Paul's life. IVhen thev saw," etc. The Jewish mob as intimidated at sight of the Roman oops and at once ceased their murderous tack. "Took him." The verb implies a rmal arrest. The chief captain did not >me to relieve Paul, but to protect him id ffive him a hearing. "Two chains." c was probably bound between two solen*. 34, .15. "Could not know." It was dilfilit for the mob to make out a charm ainst the prisoner which would be intellib!e to the Roman officer. If a Greek had itered into the holy place he mi liable i death, but Paul wan known to be a >w, nor was there any Greek to be found i the spot. "The castle." The literal eaning in encampment or barrack*. Thia us not the cattle or tower of Antonia, it only that part of the tower which was ed as permanent quartern for the soldiers, rhe stairs." Which led from the court the Gentiles up into the tower. "Was >mc." The crowd pressed on Paul so as i awaken th*? ,fe?r of some outrage or each?ry. and to fully protect their prisler the soldiers carried him. either in leir arms or on their shoulders. 36. 37. "Awav with him." The apostle rejected in tfie same terms used nearly lirty yean before, when Christ was hured to the cross (Luke 23: 18; John 19: i): "yet in the mid*t of this wild storm human passiors a divine result is beinsr orked out." "May I spenk." Paul, amid >e storm, is the ^elf-possessed master of * position. He avails himself with undifirbed ?kill of every advantage within ach. first to axunge the chief captain, id thru the people, in order to attain ith wifely for himself and triumph for le truth. "J?penk Greek." It is probable lat Creek was the native tongue of the lief captain. and when he knew that Paul iderstood that language the conversation int follow* took place. :"S. .19. "That Egyptian." The Egyptian ? whom al!u?inn is made is described by owphus a* one of the many impostors of lat time, who announced that he was a rophet and lathered an army with which ? undertook to overthrow the Roman overnment. A large number were killed id others taken prisoner*. but the leader waped and the whole eity was searching >r him. Lvsia* hoped that he was now night in the person of Raul. "A Jew." [e xvas also a Roman (chap. 22: 27. 28). Vo mean city." Tardus was the metropo* r of f'ilicia. and a eity remarkable for its ilture and philosophic studies. Where Lac* la Mad*. Lacemaking at Jdria, a small mounMia iwn of Austria, with about GOUU inhabunts, is reported to be rapidly improvg. Jt has been fur some centuries the ?ual house industry of the women, who rinerly worked iroin old C'roatin patterns id Slav designs. In 1?70 the Government labiished a school for lacemaking, and ; this time about 1UUU women and girls i>rk at this occupation. Thread, wool, Ik. silver and gold are all used, the prices nging from tour cents to 9100 a yard. Irian lace is now sent to England, tierany, France. Kgypt, and Asia Minor, and is exhibited With great success at the cent bu i'clcrsburg inhibition for ClothI ncaret?7 mf .tanl Constructors. Because of the demands upon the tim* id services of the line officers, the Ruau of Navigation finds it impossible to prove their transfer to the Construction ?rps. A similar scarcity of officers exIs in the Construction Corjis. without iy |irospect of relief for many years. Seval constructors are now needed on the j ?iatic Station. The Hong i\ong station, i litre considerable work is done on the ip* of the Asiatic Squadron, i* now witht a constructor. Thin nece*Mt?tes a trip 600 miles to Cavite. where the nearest HHtructor it stationed. Electricity la Japaii. Japan is making steady progress in all nis ot industrial enterprises. A syndite, capitalized at $1.UUU,UU0, has just i'ii organized in Yokohama for the pur>e of ouilding an electric street car sy%u in that city. THE BELIGIOUS LIFBH ? ?rti? AIIIFT MAIM H KKADINU run i ns. ?*#*?n WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. Poem: tome Watehw?rd??The Dlaeipl? Told That They Wero to 80 Wltsoaa** Kwmm DaH I ho PttoiuM Porta aftto Kortn-Comloc of Chrlat'a KJngdwa. A little bit of aeif-eontrol la coed for body, mind and aoul; HeTpa man to nurd hia word* and action^ Acta aa restraint 'fainet faiaa attraction*, v Help* man to oae food judgment, too, In huatneaaknca ha may pursue. It help* a man avoid confusion* | Which would result in wrong conclusion*. A little bit of patience, tr 9, _ Will help a van hia conr*- pursue . < In such a way that good success , And true contentment wiD him bless. I A little bit of common sense j Will faithful toil well recompense? Cause men to meet their obligations I Through proper business regulation*. J . Two things there are which crown tint a three. Faith and hope in the cotpcl plea. And these two thins* along with thoM Will help a man in God repose. And take delight Hia will to do In each respect that*a (rand and true; And auch a course will others load To heed God's call and pardon pUff. ?H. N. Miller. ^ Tkera'a Work to Do. " The poor puzzled followers of Jens wcra not readv yet, even after rrceria* a?eur> one? of Hia resurrection from the dead, to shake off their earthly ideals aad took at Girist's kingdom from a spiritual view* point. They are-willing to beaev* anything, now that their eyes have asaa, ther ! ears hwe heard and their hands kav* i bandied. Ther know that He whose last ' groan upon the eross tort their hearts I with anguish unutterable, aad whoa* dead body they followed to the tomb, otill lives. 8 They have answered the call of Hfe dear voice once more. As of old ther bava ^ eaten with Him aad been eared for and A comforted by Him. They kaow it - Ha, J ana >vc, mey cannot get away tram tnas. H old idea that in some way those twia B of theirs, the Ronaoi, are to bo pet dowm B and tho Jew* exalted. They bare all the g time made more of the kingdom than of .vk tho King. And now they bd hr thai 39 the time is cloee at hand. He died but to 1 make the victory the greater. Now, ?ra? 1 ly, He will tell them all. for ererythiag most be nearly accomplished and Jerusalem. their "mother dear," is to be set up once more. But their impatient hearts hare yet an- * other lesson to learn. Gently He reproves. They are ready to take up arms ana- fixht for Christ ana the new-old kingdom. hotHe reminds them that the power ft sot. theira, it is God's?the bring Father's. Perhaps He uses the term "Father" instead of a sterner word to show that the kingdom is held baek m lorn and that the Father doeth all things well even for a . down-trodden nation, thai Ha niight raise '1 up at once and does not. The power fa i held by the Father lor son* panose. II is not for them to question1 aor be imp*- } tient. Then tendeny He tells them a most amazing thing, whica mi to tWa dtf ' a Christ's disciples have not f?Dy learned d I to understand, bat take it M * puule, as \| an evaaion of tb? mnwwi, imjb away M sadly pondering ana longing cad chafhtf *51 for the coning of the kingdom. to draw i&] nifh. and know not that wmwhti art even now hindering it. J Jesos said, "The Bather km Mi all thai . in Hia power, bat after tha Holy Qhost ia ! come upon you ye shall receive ppfWT." .flM Did He mean perhaps that after tha {J j Holv Spirit baa come npon those dtscrplsa Ja God was to pot into their haada* porno* ' I of power also, and that it was to rest upon ;1 them to a certain degree, how aooa that' 1 kingdom would came? I Dimly they began to peeadra at kst I that there waa work for tktm to do ha* 1 fore their desire could eoaas to pass, and " they took unon their hearts the commie* sfl rion. astonishing as it was, that the? wera ; g to be witnesses first, not only hi Jirwsa lem, bat eren ante the nttenaoot parts of M the earth! That meant work, and thai ffil included eren their enemiea. the Romans.' 1 a But whether they realised that tha power , I to bring the kingdom sooner was in (heir 12 own handa or not ia a question. It is cef*' 1 tain that we do not. Either wa hare lost g ovrrnjftxi?nii| ucsirc I%JT IUC &jtu* ! injr of Christ'* kingdom that poiiiwi the, earlier followers of Jeeae, and do BO# CSS* whether it cornea ooon or lata, for ? aro very well satisfied with tha world aa it itands, or else we do not reahxe what pow* .? er the Father bath pot upon ? (if ao ho that we have really received the Holy, Ghost into oar hearte to reign there), for j if we did thna deaire and thoa realixe wo should rest not day nor night, hot wo should witness, witness, witness "of these things" that the coining of too kingdom wait not upon us.?New York Mail tad Express. "Ttia Or?fat of TIsh la love." Christian fellowship is possibly only bo* cause of love. It is the only ground oa which different faitha can meet. Christian unity is not and cannot bo found in creed, for there are no two persona of the same , church even that read and understand the ? Scriptures alike, much leas thooa of differ* < ent faiths. Instead of being nearer to? ; getber after a discussion of their creed they are farther apart. Christian unity cannot be effected in our creed. Such ia impoasi* 1 ble. It ia not found in our polity. HanM^ the same difficulties confront oa as bdbl^M Nor is it to be found in our taates. UH deed, if there ia anv difference it ia that . /...I . 1 . i get iariocr apart nere xuan on any ground. Creed or polity, or tastaa art nolHH possible grounds of unity, indeed, they Uf^| impossible grounds. There is bat one possible ground, and that is foond in love. We may differ in oar idea* concerning creed and polity and in our tastes, but ? *c have lore in oar heart* we eaa ftrike ? hands with oar neighbor and tay. "My brother. ?Charles w7 Posthill, Wingate, lad. The Chrlstlaa KM. Decide to-day to be a Christian. It it the right thing to do. You hare but one life to lire, and by universal consent there is no way of life so satisfying, so rewsrding as the Jesas way. Those who have boa- .aestly entered upon it and who art trying to conform to the conditions that guarantee ( success have no regret. Indeed, aoate of them sorrow becausc they di4 not begin earlier. In deciding to be a Christian yon ne d not deride everything aboat Christianity. nor about Christ, even. Bat, considering what the Christian liie offers, considering the overwhelming probabilities that it ts based on fundamental truth, considering your personal need of a Saviour and the majesty and winsoaeness of the One whom yon may have as yonr Master. it ix absolutely foolish, nay even aW most shameful, for voa to delay this decision.? Kev. H. A. Bridge man. A Lesson Prom the Monlie Glories. After the helping ?trand? had bcea placed ezainat the front porch, very QtiK-kly did the morning glories reach for them nnd cla*p about them and mount upward. Hut they made uie of the incenaatc rapport oniv to climb heavenward into the bine, and h!ofKom in beauty there. Thua ihould wo u-e the material world, not to cling to it and remain with it, but that oar aoali may to "iligher level* riae."?Allen Ro*enkran*. Many a man ha* gone to the bad ^ through liia effort* to be regarded aa a I good fellow. J? Rctirrllf of PlaUaam, i Although the demand for platinum haa I .1,1:1.11'v* iiwivakiiiir nt InL** the BUDdIv HE Ii.n livvn diuiinulunr. Tbc world has barn dv|iendent almost wholly on mines in two umall district* in the Ural Mountain*, ard they have not lx?eri able to furoiah enough of the metal to ?ati?fy the demand made ' by the art*. Fortunately, another neb tmd hait ju?t been made in one of those district*. along the river lac, and the product will soon be ?ent to the market. Tallest Man la the British Amy. The tallest man in the British Army ia aid to be Private McC'ullough, of the Guards. He is six feet ten and tbre*fourth inches.