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\f LUKE Hi || THE 1 I I By Prof. Wm. Henry P< 1 I Author of the "Tic Stone-Cvtti 9 % of Lisbon," Etc. CHAPTER Xy. Continued. % Again he groped about his dungeon, ounding the walls with his feet. The floor above he dared not sound, lest the noise should attract Hammond's no-u? --?/1 U a mniol Hooth uutf, aim nuu it ? vmvi ?w?? At length he paused before a spot which sounded hollow. He muttered a cry of joy! "Undoubtedly there Is a cellar or passage here." His heart sank as he reflected that he could not dig a hole through stone, brick and mortar with his finger nails. He uttered a cry of despair! He felt in all his pockets, and found a penknife. The first blow was given In derision. The knife crumbled to atoms in his hand. "I must search again, this time for iron. An old den like this should contain something of the kind." He sought in vain; though he crawled over every inch of the area. The Iron bar, ten feet below, in the well! Impossible! he couM not reach it. If he could, he could not wrench it loose. "Having found nothing below, let me search above," said the bravehearted youth, rising and feeling the beams and floor over his head. His hands, as if every finger had an pt Ha oTiri Ronrohpd evervwhere. ccorning sharp nails of iron, jagged splinters, and bruising obstacles. Suddenly he uttered a cry?a cry of renewed hope, his hands had touched the hinges of the trap-door. , "It must have a bolt!?a sliding bolt, easily detached!" said he. "I must be careful, or I shall fall into the well; I am on Its brink. But here is the bolt," he continued, as his hands slid over it. "Ha! a rope. The bolt slides easily. Oh, God! give me strength to rend It loose from its grooves." Exerting all his powers, and he was a man of great strength, Greene at length tore the bolt away. "It is heavy," he said, as he untied the rope to which it was attached, and which Hammond had pulled to assassinate him. "It weighs at least ten pounds; is shaped like a wedge; is a foot long?thick and wide. Thank Heaven!" ? He fell upon his knees, and murmured a prayer to Heaven, and feeling inspirited, returned to that part of the wall where he hoped to efTect an escape. Tracing the mortar first with his finger, he began, half fearing that the noise of his work might bring his enemy upon him. "Nothing but bricks, so far," he said, as he began to make a breach. Soon his bolt struck something harder than brick. Drops of sweat were standing upon his brow. They turned to ice as his only friend clanked against solid stone! If he had been a Frenchman, he would have torn his hair with rage. He was an American?therefore he changed his plan, and tried another. He resolved to dig under the wall and crawl through to the other side. "A wall so far down below the level of the ground," said he, " can have but little extent under the earth. I will change my wedge to a spade." He worked steadily, and was rewarded at length by finding the bottom edge of the wall about a foot below the level of his dungeon. Suddenly his bolt clanked again. This time it struck iron. He felt of the new obstacle. "A crowbar!" he cried. But the bar was so imbedded in the earth, being almost upright, that to disengage It would consume too much time, and he continued his digging. "I have hours of labor before me," he thought; "but 1 shall suceed with the help of God!" And leaving him full of hope, strength and courage, let us follow Luke Hammond to the crimson chamber. CHAPTER XVI. t<AV CP A T>TQ T TTTTT? TT A Vf\fAVT> We saw Hammond leave unfortunate Catharine Elgin, and direct his steps toward the crimson chamber. In the hall, while going thither, he met Daniel pacing slowly to and fro. "How is it now with our sick man?" lie asked. "Better," replied Daniel. "He seems Improving rapidly, and has eaten quite heartily for one who has been in bed .. so long." "Ah! you must be careful," said Luke. "He is cunning. Daniel, and as he regains his strength he may conceal it to surprise you with an attack. Henry Elgin was a powerful man before he was taken sick. He Vas a match for two such fellows as you, Paniel." Dauiel glanced at himself, as If he rather doubted the truth of that remark, and Hammond continued: "You doubt it. Daniel! Henry Elgin was once a blacksmith. His father, though wealthy, believed that every young man should have a trade as well as an education, and for three years Henry Elgin labored at the forge. His riches never deserted him, and his trade was of no use to bim except for amusement. But be was tanious among blacksmiths for his strength. Look sharp. He may be laying a plan." "I will, sir," said Daniel. "If he hould ever try that game!" "What would become of you, Daniel, If he should get loose?" "He won t get loose. sam uamn, ivirli a cruel teugh. "I'll kill him first." "Kiglit, Daniel, right! And now I wish to have a talk with him." Hammond had entered the antechamber. when Daniel said: "Old Fan is in here." Luke glared around ,?ru! sat?* J!.J vidl.Jl'c Ciu?lcltil!? .jj U COilicr. i MMMMI \MMOND, MISER.. 5Ck, I Copyright 1896, 0 ffi I by Eobebt Boukxb'b SoM. j m 5 (All rights reserved.) Jj g f "Now, then, old simpleton, what are you doing there? Your place is to remain till wanted in the main building. If any one should come to the gate how could we know it?" "The dogs?the dogs will soon tell us," said Fan. "I can't sleep nor be alone in that part of the house any more, longer than an hour at a time. I hear such strange noises." "Noises! Noises!" said Luke. "That's it," said Fan. "Hammering, pounding, as if it was way down?deep down under ground. It was dreadful." "You're a fool. But stay here until I want you. Hammering, Indeed!" he muttered. "I don't think that young carpenter feels much like hammering now." Daniel gave him the key to the crimson chamber, and unlocking the door, Hammond went in. Henry Elgin was asleep, but Hammond's careless tread awoke him, and he fixed his sunken eyes inquiringly upon the tyrant's face. "You wish to ask after your child?" said Luke, taking a seat "I can hardly expect a true answer from you," said Elgin, mournfully; for the thought of his beloved and unfortunate child unmanned him. Luke noticed the sadness of his tone and thought: "Ha! I think I may worR on mm now with some hope of success." Hammond continued aloud: "I have just left your daughter." "She is well, I trust," said Elgin. "She had just swooned." "Swooned!" exclaimed Elgin. "I know my daughter's nature weli. She has a bold and firm heart. She does not faint, unless terribly excited?do you hear, scoundrel!?terribly excited. She fainted last night?wha^ woman would not have fainted! She fainted because she beheld a father alive whom she bad thought dead. Villain! what have you done to her? What barbarous torture have you inflicted upon her tender limbs? How have you wrung bitter agony from her brave heart? Speak, unnatural monster!" "She fainted twice last night, Elgin," said Hammond. "She had escaped from your old prison, and fainted when I recaptured her." "My poor, tender, miserable Katy? my child!" groaned the unhappy father. "But to-night!?to;night! What made her swoon to-night??Tell me, that I may know how to curse you, villain?" "I merely told her a fact," said Luke. "I merely announced to her that James Greene was dead." "James Greene?dead!" said Elgin, half rising, and staring at his coldblooded tyrant. Then sinking back upon his pillow, be murmured: "It is a lie!" "It is a fact," said Hammond, with his hard, dry laugh of triumph. "It is not at all improbable that a reward will be offered to find his body." "Ah! I understand," said Elgin, with a shudder. "You have imprisoned him ?ensnared him and imprisoned him? perhaps in this house, which you have turned into a jau?a jeastne m tue heart of New York City." "You are right, Henry Elgin. I did usnare James Greene. I did imprison him. I told your daughter how I did it. I imprisoned him in the old well beneath the old store-room!" "Great Heaven!" groaned Elgin. "This is too much! Luke Hammond, you have murdered him." "As you please," said Luke. "I call it by a more gentle name. I have removed a great obstacle." "What do you hope to effect by such a crime?" "Your daughter loved him. While he n V? /-? nr/v.tU 1a?.a + Va? 11 > cu one V> u U1U 1U*C AAV O.VU loved him. While he lived you would have clung to your absurd project of making him your heir. Your will is of no use now to James Greene. You must now leave your wealth to your daughter. I came to tell you this, Henry Elgin, that you might place the fact with certain others, and hasten to do what you must do to save your daughter's life." "You dare not murder her, Luke Hammond!" "Look at me, man!" said Luke, rising. "Look at me. I am a desperate man. I am growing more and more desperate every hour. I dare do anything. I know that if you and your daughter were dead, your country kin would flock to New York to share the spoil. If you provoke me much more, by my blood, I will end this struggle. though I embrace a halter." "I have been looking at you," said Elgin, sternly. "I have watched your devilish face, and peered into every wrinkle, and I see plainly that there is something behind all this bluster. Do you know what I think it is?" "Let us hear," sneered Hammond. "I know you must have found my will," said Elgin, "or you had not known of James Greene. In the will alone was his name mentioned. But, as I am a living man, Luke Hammond, I believe you have lost it!" Luke actually staggered with surprise. Was Henry Elgin inspired? "Ha!" continued Elgin, with a bitter, "T ftwimui iuu?ii, j. BCC ^uu nave?juui blank visage betrays it. Now I know why you are torturing my poor child. She found the will, and has hidden it! Is it not so? You are dumb. 1 have been thinking all this over, and have hit the nail on the head. That will you fear. It may blow you to the gallows at any moment, if you dare to take my life. You dare not forge a will while my will is unfound. Double-dyed villain that you are. you are defied!" "Henry Elgin.'' said Hammond, "the! will Is loat. Your (daughter found and ! t bid It. But I know it Is in this house. Now mark the words of a desperate man. .James Greene is dead. Removed so cunningly tbat no suspicion of my complicity can ever be traced to me, even if such suspicion could possibly arise. As for him, let him rest. I removed him because he stood in my way?because he was assuming the attitude of an enemy. I do not wish to forge a will?I have my reasons for this reluctance. But if driven to it. I will do it. I will forge a will in favor of your daughter. I will force her to become the wife of my son. No one save creatures of my own shall enter this house for months after. Your daughter shall be detained a close prisoner. You shall die?you hear?you, Henry Elgin, shall die; people read your tombstone now. As for the lost will. If I cannot force your daughter to reveal the secret, by Heaven! I will fire this house, and it and the will shall be destroyed forever,* What think you of that, Henry Elgin?" Hammond towered above the terri^ - 1 : 1 J ~Trill n innno PAT1. H6U Jiivaiiu iii axi mc *u4?iuvuo sciousness of his "will to do, his power to dare, and his cunning to scheme. "May God deliver me from this monster!" said Elgin, closing his eyes. "I leave you, Elgin, to think the matter over. You have but few hours left for consideration. Save your life?regain your liberty. Save your daughter's life. Think of those things, and think of me!" Hammond bowed ironically, and withdrew, locking the door after him. "Here is the key." said he,- giving it to Daniel. "I have left our friend food for reflection. Be careful. You may have to watch all night, for I have employed Stephen elsewhere. Fan! are you there?" "Yes, I am here," said Fan, rising to her feet. "Go to the white and gold chamber. See if Mrs. Harker desires aD.vthing. If not, ask her to come to my library, and do you remain with Miss Elgin. But?no escapes this time; no chloroform surprises." "I will be careful. I can't sleepnot two minutes at a time.' 'said Fan. "Do you know what I see every time I shut my old twisted eyes?the smallpox twisted 'em?they were handsome once?do you know what I see? Let us go on into the hall where Daniel can't hear." Hammond and Fan passed into the j hall, and she continued, while he J trimmed the wick of his lamp: "I see James Greene a lyin' in the well, and billions of rats eating him! That's what I see!" "Fool!" exclaimed Hammond, starting aside with a shudder. "I wish you were there with him!" "I know you do," said Fan, shaking her head. "But I ain't going to die, there." "Ah, you are sure of it, eh?" "Gnitp snrp. I've been told where i I'm going to die, and how," said Fan, clinging to his sleeve. "I had a hus band once " "There, that will do," said Luke, breaking away angrily. "Keep your gossip for those that like it. I despise It, Fan." "I know it, and me, too," said Fan, grinning horribly; "but I .am of use to you?you need me for your devil'ry, and I need you to catch the birdiesyellow birdies." Her claws had clutched his sleeve again, and he seemed forced to listen to her by some unseen and mysterious power. "Luke Hammond," said Fan, "after Tsaw that in the well, I tried to sleep in my little room. I did sleep a bit? long enough to have a dream. I dreamed I saw a man?he was a mansaw a man whom I loved as 1 love my life?move than life?my husband he was?" "Let go my sleeve, Fan," he exclaimed. "I can't?I can't?something stiffens \ my old claws like iron. I'll let go when I've told ye what I drearjed. I dreamed I saw my husband?he died j thirty years ago?died quick as a flash | ?his son killed him, you see " "Wretched woman, let me go!" cried i Hammond, raising the hand in which 1 he held the lamp, as if to strike. The arm seemed turned to stone. He trembled with a vague and chilly horror. His arm remained holding the lamp on high, and he could not strike. To be continued. Made Blind In Fight TV 1th Bear. Of the seriousness of a hand-to-hand struggle with the ordinary brown-nosed J bear the sportsmen travelling from Thirty.-one Mile Lake by the Post Creek route, have clear demonstration. On j the side of that rapid little river lives: the blind man, Jean Paul, whose-immense frame and quick habits are comparatively useless to him because of a Hottlo -nrtfV* Ann rsf fhoar* nrofitnroo All one afternoon twenty summers | ago he fought with an ase a full sized bear he had surprised in a berry patch. It was just as the sun went down that he exulted over his vanquished and slain enemy. And then he hurried borne to his wife, the shadows of a lifelong night of darkness settling quickly upon him. Medical men say that the intensity of that terrible struggle over-strained and ruptured the muscles of his eyes, and none of their skill could ever restore his sight. ?New York Sun. Monarch* Who Sank Low in Life. If it were possible for a descendant of a line of kings to sink lower in the social scale than the last of the Plantagenets, who lived and divd, an obscure cobbler, in an EngJ^h village, Charles VII. of France must have attained that uneviable distinction when the cobbler of Bourges refused to give Uini creait ior a pair or snoes. When the weak and dissipated king bad tried on the shoes and shamefacedly confessed that he had not the money to pay for them, "Then," said the cobbler, "my shoes are not for such as you. I make them for money, aud not for charity." Great Kgg Eatera. New Yorkers alone, it is estimated, eat more eggs than the inhabitants of any other city in the world, the daily consumption amounting to the nice little total of 2,100,000 eggs. Incompatibility. A Rtntely stride and u short skirt were iiv r intended for the same worn an.?Atchison Globe. 1 ft A SEBMON FOR SUNDAY AN UPLIFTING AND ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED "FAITH." The Rev. Roderick Terry Shows the Necessity of Establishing a True Spiritual Life on a Proper Foundation?Why We Have Hope Unto an Eternal Life. New York City.?Dr. Roderick Terrv, na9tor of the South Reformed Church, Madison avenue, preached Sunday morning on "Faith." His text was chosen from Jude 20 and 21: "But yc, beloved, building up yourselves on ^vour most holy faith, praying in the Hoiy Ghost, keep 1 yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal lite." Dr. Terry said: We have no information concerning this short Epistle of Jude beyond that which is contained in the verses themselves. We kpow not who he was, nor where he lived, nor to whom he wrote, nor the circumstances calling for the writing of the Epistle further than the information we gain regarding some of these facts from its contents. And inasmuch as this, as well as the whole of the revelation, though written originally for certain people at a certain time, was intended to be universal in its scope, and was applicable to people of al! times, it is not of so much importance to us to know precisely for whom the words tvere first intended, as to ascertain their Applicability to the different periods of the church's history, and especially to the time in which we live. It is written, as Jude says, as a warning to Christians; tbat they should "earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the Saints." These words imply first, the importance of guarding this faith once delivered to the Saints, and in the second nlace, that there were dangers lest this faitn might be lost. In regard to the first of these, however needful at that time, or at any succeeding time in the church's history such a warning may have been, it can never have come with greater force than it should come to Christ's people to-day. The necessity of contending for the faith, "delivered once for all to the Saints," is, in the present state of religious opinion, something which needs to be repeatedly insisted upon. By . faith is meant here, not that quality or grace which the Christian possesses which typifies his feeling toward God: it has reference rather to tnat which is believed in; which St. Paul calls "The Faith of the Gospel." "The faith which is in Christ Jesus," and which is used universally by the sacred writers as Bynonymou3 with the teaching which God gives concerning Himself. This faith," sdys Jude, "was once for all delivered unto'the Saints," and he exhorts Christians that they should earnestly contend for it. When this faith was delivered unto the saints, and under what circumstances, we are well aware; it included the revelation which God made of Himself through all history, and His relation with His chosen people; it included the life and the work of the Master, and the influence which Hfe shed upon His dis- ! ciples; it included the work and the teach- . ings of His1 followers; it was, in fact, the revelation of God recorded through all the Scriptures. Jude insists upon the necessity that every one who is a child of God should contend for this faith as thus by revelation and miracle once for all deliv- ! ered unto the Saints. The writer of the epistle makes no secret : of the reason why he found it neccssary to 1 insist upon the importance of thus guard- | ing the faith as given to us by God, for the dangers which menaced it were two fold; in the first place they sprang from the nat- ( ural tendency of men to seek to reason out for themselves all matters of faith or be- 1 lief, as they would reason out questions of history or of science. These men. puffed up with their own supposed knowledge. ( were unwilling to abide by the clear and ! 6imnle words of Scripture which came from + knm an. 1 UUU. UL1U liwu Ulii y unci ptctvu v*>wiu uv cording to their own judgment, but even reolaced them with ideas of their own. The writer has little to say to these men, whom he describes as those whose "mouths speak swelling words," as though the words came not from any deep thought, but he shows conclusively that they were as conspicuous in the church then as they are to-aay. There is nothing harder* for the natural man than to acknowledge and Jive up to the acknowledgment of his ignorance; there is no subject of thought or discussion?whether connected with the life in this world or in the world to come ?which men will not seek to handle with the tools of their own mental equipment, and therefore men are alwavs jealous when the Bible declares that there are some things which they cannot understand, but that in regard to those very things they must have faith; so that the first class of dangers to the maintenance of its true nofiition on the part of faith in human intellectual life, springs from mental conceit, from the unwillingness of men to believe that which seems inconsistent with, or above their own reasoning. When this enistle was written this class of enemies to the faith, in that contention against it which is always being waged, were not verv conspicuous nor influential in the church, but to-day there is more danger to the purity and the simdicitv of the Christian faith from them than from any other of its enemies, and it becomes the adherents of the cause of Christ to be strong and unyielding in their opposition to the modern tendency; to elevate human individual opinion as over against the revealed will of God. When God says: "The 60ul that sinneth, it shall die." and some man rises in opposition and declares that "all good and bad shall finally inherit everlasting life," it is time for the servant of Sod to take a firm position in support of the revealed will of the Lord and to contcnd for the "faith once delivered to the Saints." When men declare that this very Bible, which contains God's revelation to men, is 1 a somewhat uncertain guide to belief, an unreliable anchor to hope, and proceed to i tear it to pieces and to rob it of its su- 1 r\yama ot^orirrfVi in ifc nnlrl nnnn flip POT1- I sciences and minds of men, it is time for the servant of Christ to announce with emnhasis his belief that it is the revea'ed will of God, and that of all His revelation there shall fail not one jot or tittle, and that a curse shall come irnon him who taketh away from or addeth unto the words which God hath given for our comfort and our guidance. Surely there is neefl to-day. more than ever in the past, that in regard to all of Gpd's teachings, in regard to the word of God's revelation, in regard to the Dlan of salvation, in retard to our hone of heaven, even to our belief upon God Himself, the Christian should stand firm, and should contend, with courage and with zeal, in his own heart and in the world for the faith as it is in Jesus. For that faith is also in danger of being undermined by the human characteristics universally found among men which make them unwilling to accept of and to live up to its moral and ethical teachings. The standard of morality in the world being much lower than that taught in the Scriptures. all men are apt to suffer their ideas to drift lower and lower in sympathy with the ideas of the world. In the first place this result occurs to-day. as in the time of the writing of the epistle, from the creeping into the church of certain men who arc \r /IrAamoro Ao- I 1 filing the- flesh. despising dominion, speak- 1 ing evil of dignities," criticising those < things which they know not. who in the < time of the writing of this epistle had be- t come so conspicuous in the church life of ? the time that they were called "raging t waves of the sea, foaming out their own J shame, murmuiers, containers, having J men's persons in admiration because of ad- J vantage." It is a blessed thought that to- ' day such persons are not conspicuous in ? the church, for this is an age of honesty, > an age of the denouncing of all duplicity, an age, when Pharisees and hvprocritos once brought to the light, are abhorrent to all classes of men, but while not openly j conspicuous as members of the church of v Christ, such emissaries of Satan are still s nf. wnrlr in '(hp world, and their inflnenc.? 1 is felt in a subtle fashion influencing the j hearts of men against Dure and holy living. r Though no one would take his fellow by s the hand and deliberately lead him away "y from righteousness into wickedness, yet j there is a fascination in some minds tn seek by subtle argument to make wrong apRear* right, to cause to stumble in the path of rectitude one over whom influence can be exerted, and there is waging contin- 3 ually in every heart an earnest battle betvveen righteousness and wickedness, be- ^ tween immorality and pure mindedness. ? and the faith or the teaching which God * has liven co-icerni"? r?*?n's dutv is cer- 1! trin'v beinc tind?rmir",d bv the infl-iences ^ rf evii f?xamp!e. "s well ns bv th? ictive In- '' bors of evil spirits ecekinz to dras men ? ; j >' down from a high position of purity and j righteous living. In very striking terms Jude calls attention to instances in history where God showed His abhorrencQ,?of unfaithfulness in mind, heart or action upon the part of those who were His professed followers. He refers to the large number of the children of Israel, who, naving been delivered r from Egypt, for their lack 01 faith were destroyed in the wilderness. He reminds them of Sodom and Gomorrha; of Cain, of .Balaam and ot Lore, in oraer inai inev may be persuaded of the high value which S God sets upon adherence and obedience to the faith which He has given to men; for the point of the whole epistle lies in the I contrast b-tween those wno thus neglected their privilege and duties as children of God?who, knowing the right, yet pursued 1 evil?who professing love to God practically ignored Him in their lives, and those B who not only iij outward profession, but in inward service, sought to live as became the children of faith: "Building up S themselves on their most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, and thus keeping 1 themselves in tbe love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." Of the number of these he V prays, "may be those to whom he writes." hoping that they will see the present mis- T ery and the sure future punishment associated with the course of wickedne&s and neglect of faith, and on the other hand, S blessedness now and hereafter of those who are not only in name, but in deed and L in truth, the children of God, and in order that those who read, and that all of every ? time who hear this epistle may know how tn Avnirl tlip Hnncrprq narainst which he warns them, and to persevere in their serv- I ice for God and for the right, he gives I them these two verses explaining the nrin- j .. ciples and the method ot progress or the I ^ servant of God; giving to them what has been called "Tne Law of Christian Safe- w ty," that they should keep themselves in 8< the love of God, and explaining how that may be done. ; To this end he insists, first, upon the tie- j, cessity of establishing a true spiritual life u' on a proper foundation: "Building up your- J self on your most holy faithl" As in the g( beginning of the epistle, so here, the faith, tj the teaching, the revelation of God is given as the foundation upon which alone true l( religious life is to be built. There is no es- w tarnishing of spiritual growth upon a mere- j ly ethical foundation; there is no erecting y a fabric of true religious character upon the teachings of men, and as for the church itself Jesus Christ must needs be the true corner 'stone, so of all religious ideas, the j revelation or God must furnish the base. < As the foundation of a building is essential I v not only to the solidity of that whichi ia I * erected upon it, but also furnishes the lines | and dimensions according to which it is to ' j be built, so unlesrf-there is at the basis or foundation of all religious life some revela- jj? tion or some truth oroad enough for an ideal and strong enough to sustain the whole building, there can be no security-1 r. and no assurance that the character will r> stand. He who seeks to direct his course . in life according to the teachings of men's wisdom, or the dictates of human conscience uninstructed by God, is sure to find *, his character like unto a ship; tossed about ?{ by the waves and driven by contrary gale?, y for human judgment and human ideas of , right and wrong are as valuable as are t.he | winds of heaven. There must be an ulti- * mate and universal standard of right ac- | cording to which we may direct our moral | ' lives, or we can never be sure that we are not going wrong. Such an ultimate and zr satisfactory standard must be given by one whose knowledge is infinite as com- R pared withjhat of man, and such a standard ha9 been given in the revelation of God. It is therefore not unreasonable nor jj: unnecessary that the Bible should insist .1 upon this revelation as being the founda- " tion upon which we are to build our char- C acters. Nor can we fail to'notice the use of the word "building" here, as applying I P* to our relation to the revelation of God. ; ^ Dav bv dav and vear by year the Christian is erecting a structure either of righteous- i *V ness or of unrighteousness. According to the general desire and tenor of the life is Jj6 the general character of the building. On the whole, every man is moving onward i y either toward holiness or toward wicked- I ness, cither advancing or retrograding in I his moral nature. As long as we live in | tc this world we shall continue in a state of ?hange. We never shall lay down our ar- _ mor nor have our work finished until we uease to draw the breath of life. It is nat- R jral to believe that some, after many ye/irs j? Df careful labor in the erection of true Christian characters, have suddenly turned *nd in a short time destroyed the result ' ?? 5f years of effort; there is danger to every | t0 me lest by failing to continually build up ' J3' his character in righteousness, in the true ?? faith, he should be taking away from that ln tvhich he has already builded. There is no 10 neriod of rest, there is no goal attained, aT there is no definite eternal reward until ,, ive reach that other world. "Building" is he word used, of our daily Christian lives. Let us ree to it that every stone placed in I the building of our characters is one I ' mn/'ol nf fhp life and' I unncu uuuu uiiv. uivmv* ?? , leeds of Jesus Christ, and is a strength to j as :he whole edifice. j se The second duty insisted upon by Jude, I f the Christian would keep himself guard- ; ;d from the dangers which beset him, is ^ expressed bv the words "praying in the W( floly Ghosts' Now we are well aware that ; n( :here is no prayer except in the Holy j m Spirit; that is to say. no prayer except ; w such as is in harmony with the Spirit of j ai 3od, and so sincere that that Spirit will j w ioin to it his utterance and intercessions, I st tvith groanings which can not be uttered, : ev md he must needs be persuaded that the , Holy Spirit which descended at Pentecost ! m s still active in the church. It needs no j _{ mormous faith, no long experience to pray I ^ ri the Holy Ghost, but it requires sincer- I ty, a meaning and a feeling in the prayer, j iy ind a determination that the expression j y( )f the desire made in the prayer shall be j jj. followed by fitting action. i r The thircl and fourth conditions requisite j io growth in spiritual life referred to in j _j. :he text, while not less important than ! :hose already discussed, neea only to be nentioned, for their necessity is clearly j ipparent: "Keep yourselves in the love of j w *od, loolci?cj for the mercy of our Lord 1 cj. Jesus Christ unto eternal life," living in such a way that God's love to us shall both ;row and be continually more apparent, ind a stronger factor in our spiritual life s something eminently necessary, if we j TJi ivould live as His children. Were it not .1 ti ;or the supreme and infinite love of God j M >ve should have no hope either f6r this m vorid or for the world to come, and the , bii nore deeply we appreciate that love, and gl :he more strongly we cling to it, the more th :onfident may we be of our own future, hi ind the more will we be led to give unto w; ftim in return that love which He seeks si rom us. And not less certain is it that in >nly through the expectation of the mercy ki >f our Lord Jesus Christ can we have hope w into eternal life, as it is the only hope w vhich can sustain us in the time of our w veakness, of our sin. of our despair. Ac ording as our confidence in the truth of T he Gospel prows, and our assurance of the di ove which Christ has for each of us, shall up )e our ability to stand in the evil days of a :his life and to nersevere in our pursuit G tfter holiness. This is the divine word of fa 3od; it is His message to us, and may He th trant us grace so to "build up ourselves n our most holy faith, praying in the iolv Ghost, keeping ourselves in the love >f God. looking for the mercy of our Lord CI Tesus Christ unto eternal life" that we jn nay be guarded from the evils into which o many are falling about us in the world, p< he evils of doubt, of carelessness, of im- te nora'.ity, so that we shall be saved, as it re vere. brands from the burning and kept tl"i >y Him that is able to keep us from fall- n ng, and "presented by Him faultless beore the presence of His glory with exceedng joy" Hl? VTaya Are Gentle. - - .. yc Henry Drummond, in speaking of God's j a nlinite" wisdom in His dealings with poor, fa peak humanity, onee said: "We wonder ometimes, when God is so great, so teri> >le in majesty, that He uses so little vio- , ence with us, who are so small. But it is iot His way. His way is to be gentle. He pi eldoui drives, but draws. He seldom com- k: iels, but leads* He remembers we are lust." My?terlou? and Baffling. Dr. T. L. Cuyler in speaking of the Bibls 9 .in incomprehensible book, says: "Read- F01 rs of the Bible should not be discouraged . . iccause even after years of close study 111 herd remains so much in the Scripture hat is mysterious and baffling. The Bible 3 a big book and cannot oe mastered rho:!y in a single year, or even in a single no ifelimc. it is a book to grow up to uad to X) row into, but never to outgrow." tr] : v._;y BE KELIGIOUS LIFE EADINC FOR THE QUIET HOUF WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. oem: Caaie For Singing?What the Parable of the Good Samaritan Teachel UJ?Always Be Ready to Extend Sympathy to the Unfortunate. ing! There is ever a reason Why the heart from its depths should flin&r. "or the love of the Lord who loves up Is a sure and a steadfast thing. "he night may seem dark and starless, The morn may be cold and drear, !ut the day will come, the sun will shine And the world will be full of cheer. ing, you who are sad and lonely, And you with the spirit light; lie love of the Lord is a precious thin/ And His judgments are just and righ TTiat though a few clouds gather Over your noonday sky? 'he glorious rays of a love divine Will scatter them by and by. ing! for there lies before us A country that's vast and grand; a the Lora's own time?in the Lord's own way? We shall reach the beautiful land. ?E. E. Brown. / On the Koad to Jericho.1 And is there a road to Jericho in you? fe and mine? Come! Let ua wander | own it a little while to-day. Perhaps hen we come back we shall know ourilves the better. It matters little if yotLbe priest or Leite or Samaritan, you have all journeyed lis way. Do you remember how fair the ay seemed at morning when you started pon that road. You were bound to the ty on business or on pleasure bent. The wers nodded to you along the way and ie wild, rockv, wooded way appealed to ou ana thrilled your heart with its eauty, and you were at peace with the orld?and with God, you thought. You readed not a danger that might lurk. mi IrnAtir nnf tViAiinrtit nnrf- nf onv + V??f. >uld come to you that day. The eons birds chorused all about you id you lifted your eyes to the heaven Dove you and felt joy in the clear depths : blue, with an underlying satisfaction in }uc own self and the success you were aking of your life. Then all suddenly you came to the turn i the road?you remember?where the ith leads abruptly up over the rocky hillde, or by a shorter cut down into the ood below, where all is cool and green id dark, and as the sun was mounting gh and the climb a steep one you chose le wooded road and turned your horse's ;ad in that direction. And just as the ladow of the forest fell above you and mt out heaven's blue you caught sight : some one lying bruised and bleeding lead of you in the shadows of the road, ou started jind drew rein at once, pon;ring what it might mean, and looked ealtnily from side to side. Where dan r had befallen one man. danger might so befall you. Whether the thieves were ilyx armea with laughter and a sneer? iuoc ncajjuiio wui tu buc vitaio oviu^biui^o* >u know?or whether there was actual lysical harm, I know jiot, 'tis enough tat you and God lpow. Was it fear that ;ld you from going on, or was it the gency of your business, the necessity for iste, that impelled you to turn away from le sufferer you might have helped? For >u turned away, you remember, and went r on the other side of the ravine, the up* ;r road, whence you could look down and e the man lying half dead. You remem* :r that you tried to shut your eyes to :ep the bright sunshine out?and the ?ht of 'him you did not help. Oh, it mat* rs not, you know, that he ought to have ;en well armed when traveling that road id not have got into a scrape like this, our conscience tells you loudly now as >u pass through this way again and sec le place-where he lay and wonder what iod Samaritan, if anv, helped him away, at you should have been brave and kina and you were not. You have not even the excuse of the imaritan, for he might have said: "The ring ona is a Jew. I am not. Other ;ws will come along this road and disiver him before long. It is their business look out for their own." No, you have >t that excuse, for you claim to belong the chosen family of God. Every man, ; your creed, is a brother. Even better r your peace of mind be it if you ran ray for fear. The Expositor's Bibie says, speaking of ie priest and Levite who "passed by on le other side:" "It is .iust possible that ley do not deserve all the censure which ie critics and the centuries have given. ; is easy for us to condemn their action i selfish, heartless, but let us put ourIves in their place, alone in the lonely iss, with this proof of an imminent danx sprung suddenly upon us, and it is posble that we ourselves should not have :en quite so brave as by our safe firesides e imagine ourselves to be. The fact is it >edcd something more than sympathy to ake them turn aside and befriend the ounded man; it needed physical courage, id that of the highest kind, and, this anting, sympathy itself would not be ifficient. The heart may long to help, en when the feet were hastening away." And so if you have turned away there ay be lower reasons for it than the mere inic of affright. But the Master's words were "Love your :ighbor as yourself." If yourself had been ing there wounded?or one you loved as >ur3elf ? how quickly would you have irown to the winds your fears and hastled down to help! "To the Jewish mind 'neighbor' was mplyVJew' spelt large," says Dr. Burin. And to-day, have you any more dine idea of the word than had they? Oh, hen you go this Jericho road again, beare! for at any turn you may have a lance to act the good Samaritan's part. Sinzlnc Through Life. In the early days of emigration to the /est a traveler once came, for the first me ir< his life, to the banks of the mighty Mississippi. There was no bridge. He ust cross. It was early winter, and the irface of the great river was sheeted with earning ice. He knew nothing of its lickness, however, and feared to trust mself to it. He hesitated long, but night is coming on and he must reach the other ior.e. At length, with many fears and finite caution, he crept out on hands and lees, thinking thus to distribute his eight as much as possible, and trembling itn every sound. When he had gone in lis way painfully about half Avay over he ?ard a sound of singing behind him. nere, in rne uusk, was a coiorea man ivinp a four-horse load of coal across ion the ice and singing as he went. Many Christian creeps tremblingly out upon od's promises where another, stronger in ith, goes 'singing through life upheld by ie same word. Promoting Happlneia. It is astonishing how large a part of brist'a precepts is devoted solely to the culcation of happiness. How much of is life, too, was spent simply in making ?ople happy! There is no word more ofn on His lips than "blessed," and it is cognized by Him as a distinct end in life, ie end for this life, to secure the happiss of others.?Henry Drummond. Fnlthfulnei i. He who is faithful over a few things is rd of cities. It does not matter whether iu preach in Westminster Abbey, or teach ragged class, so vou are faithful. The ithtuJness is all.?George Macdonald. Value of C?ty Park*. The valuation of the park lands of GreatNew York is now put at $300,000,000; of licago at $65,000,000; Boston, $53,000,000; liladelphia, $22,000,000; san .Francisco, 2,000,000, and St. Louis, $8,000,000. Arizona'* Copper Belt. rhe copper belt in Cochise County, Arila. is three or four miles wide, and can traced for sixteen miles across the line o Mexico. Race Suicide Ii) Illtnoli. rn 1902 84,840 babies were born in Illiis, of which 27,347 were born in Chicago lerc were 572 twin births and fifteen iplets. THE SUNDAY SCHOOL! INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS I FOR MAY 24. Subject: Paul Before Ajrrlppa, Act* xxvf* R \ 19-29?Golden Text, Act* *itI? 22? B| Memory Yeraea, *7-39?Commentary o? H the Dtj'i Lmmd. fl *" " A - ?? *' *'?J a TT viASB IV. "Agrippa. neruu oiiifiw king of the country east of tbe upper Jor* H dan and the 8ea of G&lflee. He aid a pal ace at Jerusalem, and was professedly ? H| Jew, und was versed ia Jewish custom?,''M He was tbe son of the Herod Agrippa wh? B slew Jews and imprisoned Peter. Afta? the destruction of Jerusalem, A. P. 70, ha> K was dethroned, but permitted to retain his wealth, and lived at Rome until A. D. 100, He was immoral in life, but not unjust id B his rule, and has been considered the best; in the Herodian family. "Not disobed < ? a ?a! m lent." 'ibis is one 01 iac uiauu ^umu> ?? instruction and personal application jaf ^ Paul's whole career. He began on the in* stant. where be was. to obey. He sought on the instant, and ever afterward, tt> know and do the Lord's will. "HeaVenlj;^ vision." The vision which appeared to peg manifestly from heaven. He was lobedieu?and yet it certainly cost him a hard strap ; glc to renounce all for Christ. 20. "First unto?Damascus." He begstf i to nrsach at Damascus immediately (Act* ' 9: $0-22), but soon went to Arabia. Front*. Arabia he returned again to Damaicn* (Gal. 1: 17, 18), where the Jews sought to take his life. Paul escaped by night, bemffVj ' " J ^ " -- ? ViooL-af I A/>f? fly 4 jet down uy LUC wail 1U a uiuov. ? -1'f^ 23-25). "At Jerusalem," etc.. He specifier V as his fourfold field of labor, .first, the two -M cities of Dama8cua and Jerusalem, then the 'M whole region of Judea. and, laativ, the. heathen world. "Should repent." He htufffjB sought to win men back to God, to reveal I Christ and His complete work for mazft redemption, that they might repent, and Vj turn to God; that, with a divineljt. Mri'M jicwed heart and reversed life thev might 1 do works acceptable to God. The a octroi* of repentance was frequently preached by; I the apostles. It includes botn contritiotf . "3 and reformation. The truly repentant otm i3 heartily sorry for all his sins, so Mity ^ that he turns away from sin forever, an? / if possible would undo all he has sinfully. done. Confessions are made, wrongs are righted, and the soul, loathing itself, crie# u to God for mercy. I 21, 22. "For these causes.9 Because he '{j had obeyed God according to his distinct.-.rj j revelation, in a manner Qinmrainn w uw. Jews, tbey had sought to kill him. "In tbp fa temple." Paul was worshiping in"the tea*;-.Si pie when the Jews seized him. "I con-,: fa tinue." It wa? not by any powerv of ki? fr own he had been preserved, but it v?n cause God had interposed and rsscned hiSL. 'ti "Witnessing." Bearing testimony, u ho I'd had teen commanded. "Small." To thoto < i, in humble life, to the poor, the knbruri) Hi and the obscure. "Great." The rich and noble: to kings and princes and governors* V;1 He had thu&stood on Mars' hill at Athens^ J ma he had borne testimony before the wis*, men of Greece: he had declared the same gospel before Felix and Festus, and now ^ before Afrrippa. "Saying none otfaf&H things." He adds the supreme feet tha(f^??S all he taueht was in exact agreement wittf : Moses and the oropbets. Thin fact utterly, overthrew all the charges of his aecnsers,' and convicted them of refecting the law, >jfl and the prophets, which was the crimeal- ; ;? leged against himself. v '<] 23. "Should" suffer." Many ?f the 'Sj Jews overlooked or denied the suffering -**1 character of the Messiah, and stumbled tally at the gospel because it required then* to accept a crucified Redeemer. "The ; y* first," etc. See R. V. "Christ was not the !y first to be raised from the dead, bat thecal first who by His resurrection gave promise of eternal life." Paul always great importance on the resurrection* "Show light." True light shines through the risen Christ. J II. An interruption by Festus (v. 24), fl 54. "Beside thyself." The loud voice inwjH the effect of his surprise and astonishments ; 9| I w nat raui naa sam ui a muucvuuu uvu>Hi the dead accomplished in Jesus as the fire*. fruits of a person coming from the who should enlighten not only his ownpatHM pie, but even the Gentiles?among the rest*' the polite and learned Greeks sna Bomut fl ?and of the manner in which this was re-". JK vealed to him?all this would lead tack' $fjS. half-thinker and a pagan as Festus to ccn^^H elude rouudlv that Paul was a visionary; ^ j enthusiast. Much learning." Many wrfc JffB ings had turned his brain, the idea being ;d suggested by Paul's many allusions to. 1 Moses and the prophets. The tendency 'j of long continued and intense mental ap- 3 plication to produce mental derangement -1 is everywhere known. III. Paul's reply to Festus (vs. 25-29). ,1 25. "I am not mad." Either Paul or Fes- j tus was beside himself. They lived in dif- I frrent worlds, and one or the other wa? A wrong. If Festus was sane, Paul was mad; ! ifTaul was sane, Festus was mad. There H is no madness eo great, no delirium so aw- ^ fill, as to nerrlect the eternal, interests of j the soul for the sake of the poor pleasurea I J 1 1! frt Mil AntrA ana nuuuis vwnwu wu nuc vau ~ -, worldly-minded man misrepresents Chris tians by regarding (1) their childlike faith' , as narrowness of mind; (2) their devoafc life as religioui melancholy; (3) their joy- ?V-;J ful hope as fanaticism. < is?j| 26, 27. "The king knoweth." Agrippa' gM was a Jew and no doubt was acquainted M with the history of the life and works of fl Jesus, of His death and resurrection, of the r * events that occurred on the day of Pente- J cost, and the preaching of the gospel since Cw .Tesus had been crucified. "A corner.". There was a wide knowledge of the fact?*? connected with the life, death and resurrect tion of Christ. "Believest." Agrippa had } been instructed in the Scripture# and a'? "excepted them intellectually. The writings of the prophets foretold the events of }>/ which Paul had been speaking, and had SjJ' their fulfilment in Christ. "I know." Paul answers his own question, for .although, & Aorinna was an immoral man, yet incidents ' }' & in connection with his life show that he \'XJ | was a sincere Jew. I 28.29. "Almost." etc. See R. V.: There I are two widely different opinions as to the I meaning of this verse. The first is that I Agrippa's heart was touched and that, ac cording to the Authorized Version he de- B clared with all seriousness that h?> wax al most persuaded to become a Christian. ; Ths other view is that the words were spo- I ken sarcastically, according to the Revised ' I Version, and that he war not in the least . H influenced by Paul's words towards Chris- B tianity. Nearly all recent commentators accept the latter view. "Would to. God.?-> Paul's answer is sublime. He is so tbor- V oughlv satisfied with the salvation he has I experienced that he does not' hesitate to heartily commend it to all his royal hear- H ers. "Except," etc. What a gentle re- Be proof to these rulers who were l^eepinj nim in chains! What a delicate appeal to fl them for liberty! g Where the Bachelor is Taxed. 1 The bachelor is heavily taxed in one of I the provinces of the Argentine Republic. I Between the ages of twenty and thirty he must pay $5 a month; after the age of flj thirty, $10; when he is between thirty-five and fifty. $20; between fifty and seventy, V| $30. When a widower has been three 'V years wifeless he must remarry or pay the ^ tax. If he can prove that he; has been I thrice refused as a husband within one I year he is not taxable. 8 England's Birth Bate. | The birth rate in England and Wale? last year was 28.G per 1000-of the popnla-* tion, slightly higher than in 1901, but lower than in any other year on record. Thedeath rate was 16.3 per 1000, and was the lowest on record. The natural increase of the population by excess of births over * deaths was 405,739. ? rncreaae fn Suicide. | Suicide is on the increase, especially among married males. The death rate of married males from fifteen to forty-four B years of age is greater than in unmarried male* 2 A Carious Kitimate. A German mathematician estimates that H the average man who lives to be seventy -H years old consumes $10,000 worth of fooa H in his life. * lflj rracrant Flower*. Plants with white blossoms have a larger B proportion of fragrant flowers than any Em other. I Jj uSjL31