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# II LUKE H" II THE I 11 By Prof. Wm. Henry P< II Author of tie "TR Stone-CutU 9 ? tt Lisbon,'* Etc. CHAPTER XVI. Continued. "Don't strike me, Luke Hammond? flon't! I'm old enough to be your TTAH lrnrvor Q TiOAT TCPQ If h.llf UiUlUCXt JUU auun u |/W*, " w?,?, ?. mad old 'wretch?my children?did you know I had two??of course not?who knows anything about me?nobody, nobody?but the dead?but my children made me what I am, Luke Hammond?" "Curse your children!" roared he, un ble to jerk his arm free 'without dragging the old wretch down, for Fan had grown feeble and tottering ever since she saw the falling of James Greene. "Good?curse them for me, Luke Hammond," laughed Fan, now grasping his arm with both hands. "Curse them?how often I have cursed them? Bon and daughter?cursed them on land and sea, In field and town?cursed them everywhere and always! If It wa'n't for the pleasure It gives me to curse them, I'd cut my withered old throat?I would. But about my dream ?I saw him?he came in a cloud? black, grand cloud?the cloud grew ' email and then he said something?I didn't hear It, but It meant that I w&s near my death?that I had b$en very wicked, but that I would have been pardoned If I hadn't had a hand in murder?you made me do it. He told ?ne I was going to die, but that I t ahould see my children and know them flrst. Now here's what I'm going to do?I won't go out of this house?I might meet my children?I don't want to die?I won't. I'll stay in this house and they'll never see me, and?ha! ha! I'll live forever?live forever!" With a howl of rage and terror Hammond darted away, and pale, panting, breathless, sank into his library chair, exclaiming, in a voice of horror: "There is no doubt of it! That old hag is my mother!" ? Then placing the brandy decanter to his parched and quivering lips, he drank lone and srreedilv. "Ah!" he sighed, as he drew a long tjreath, "this business over, and once more rich, I will fly where no one of my kindred shall ever meet me?no, not even Nancy Harker. I must see her." He pulled the bell-cord and shouted through the tube. "Mrs. Harker! Come! Important! How is Catharine?" The answer came after a pause: "Bad! delirious." "Delirious!" said Hammond, and be Bhouted back: "Stay! I will come to you." He drank again from the decanter, and departed, saying: "Delirious! I expected it. I will let Henry Elgin see her thus. The sight mav moTP his heart to mv wishes." CHAPTER XVII. tiie phantom-name! Hammond hurried to the "white and gold chamber. He found Kate Elgin pacing the floor with rapid steps, and Nancy Harker watching her as a cat watches a mouse. Hammond saw by the wildness of Kate's countenance, her feverish look and unnatural agitation that she was not conscious of her actions. "Are you ill, Miss Elgin?" he asked. Kate glanced toward him as he epoke, and the sound of his voice seemed to curdle her blood, for she grew pale and shivered as if "with cold. "I thought I heard his voice," said Kate. . "Whose voice. Miss Elgin?" "Luke Hammond's voice,' said Kate, with a vacant look and leaning against the wall. "I am Luke Hammond," said he. "You! Ah, no! Luke Hammond is not a man, he is a devil. Who are you! Have you seen James Greene? I am to meet mm at seven?is it seven Poor Kate continued to talk in wild delirium, sometimes walking, sometimes leaning against the wall. "Why do you not persuade her to lie down? Why did you let her rise?" demanded Luke. "If I go near her," said Nancy, "she screams and seems abou^ to fall into convulsions. She was sleeping nicely a time back, when some one rushed through the hall?you, I think?making a great to-do, and she awoke as you Bee?out of her head. She got right up. and will not lie down. It is nothing serious. You needn't look so grave. It won't last very long, and will end in a fit of tears." "You are sure of that?" asked Hammond, and after a few moments of keen observation of Kate's appearance .be added: "You are right, Nancy. A good flood of tears will relieve her. .Where's P'an ?" He turned around and started as he saw the old creature squatted in the doorway, eyeing him and his sister with a sharper gaze than he had ever seen in those twisted orbs before. "I am here. Luke Hammond," said Fan. not moving, but rolling her eyes from him to Nancy, and from Nancy to him unceasingly. "I am thinkingthinking " "A plague take your thoughts!" said Hammond. "Get up and go tell Daniel to roll Henry Elgin's bed hither. Go. old simpleion." "Yes. I will," said Fan. crawling up the side of the door until on her feet. "You don't know how weak and shaky I am now. Yesterday?why thi6 morning I lifted the big tub of water easier than I can a cupful bow. But I was thinkinc. vou know whnt o r*Q?r nf fiends you two be?you and Mrs. Harker?gay fiends! You ought to be kin ?close kin?you look alike about the ?yes and mouth?hard, cruel?" "Silence?" said Luk*> fioropiy. "(Jo 4J0 a? 1 ordered." j . '' H. t \ \MMOND, ] I rtlSER.. || !ck, Copyriirht 1896, ? Hi I by Bobui Bonnk&'B Sons. | g B {All rights reserved.) S ?| "Yes, yes?more devil'ry," said Fan, turning away, and muttering as she passed through the ante-chamber into the hall, "Two gay devils! Devil burn me if you ain't the gayest pair I ever knew?but one pair?my boy and girl? they were a pair?gay fiends?gay!" "Nancy," said Luke, looking at his 6ister, half stupefied, "what are you thinking about?" "About Fan," said Nancy. "You must not do It, Nancy, Harker," said Luke. "We axe uneasy enough now in suspecting?we would be mis-1 erable in knowing." "Luke," said Nancy, sternly, "you do know it, or believe it. She lex slip that there were twelve letters in the name of some oae whom she iovea. it may be only a coincidence, but taken -with other things, it looks like ? fatality. See." Nancy Harker stooped and wrote with red chalk upon the white matting this name: NICHOLAS DUNN. "That is a name, Luke, that you and I have not spoken aloud for years? the name of our father. Count the letters." "Twelve!" said Hammond, uneasily. "But it is nothing more than a coinci- j dence. Let the matter alone, Nancy." I "Suppose she, old Fan, is as we think," said Nancy." "But she 1b not, confound your curiosity," said Hammond. "She is not? 3he shall not be." "Luke," said Nancy, speaking very low, although poor Kate seemed far from understanding or listening. "Luke, if it should be true that Fan was Tne wire or tne man wuose uame I have written there, and whose children we are, and she should discover the truth!" Hammond turned deadly pale. "Luke," continued Nancy, "she would avenge the death of her husband as sure as you are standing trembling there!" "Trembling! Do I tremble? So do you," said Hammond. "I do?I know it" said Nancy. "I tremble for two reasons. First, because in Fan, as we call her, we may find an enemy no less ferociously vindictive than Harriet Foss. Besides, Fan is half crazy, and her vengeance, hate or whatever feeling may urge her to our destruction if she finds out who we are, and if she is the person we think she is, urge her to our destruction with means which would be all the more dangerous to us because she will not pause to sacrifice her own life in her fury." "She may have a feeling?the feeling of a mother, Nancy, for her offspring." "Our mother," said Nncy, "never loved us. She was devoted to her hus band alone?you know it. Her soul was with him. Was it our desertion that made our mother a lunatic? No, our desertion killed our father, and that crazed our mother." "Well, let's hear the other reason for your trembling." "If Fan is our mother," said Nancy, "she is a deadly enemy. How do we deal with deadly enemies?" "But if it comes to a question of her life or our death, Nancy, what then?" "It must not come to that," said Nancy. "That would be horrible. We must get rid of her?send her away? not harm her." "Too late," said Hammond, clenching his fists; "too late, Nancy." "Why too late, Luke? Is It ever too late to prevent a crime, which we fear we may be forced to perpetrate for our own preservation?" "Yes, it is too late," continued Luke. "'Fan is not the same woman she was. I Intended that she should perish with James Greene, but her cunning baffled me. Since then she thinks she must tell of the scene to all who know nothing of it. That desire is increasing in her heart. If we send her away she might tell of the affairs of Luke Hammond, sad then?ruin to us! Besides, we should need another in her place, and already we have too many accomplices. Let that name that you have written remain upon the floor. Watch Fan when she reads it." "She will not understand it," said Nancy; "she has often told me she has forgotten how to write and read." "She may have been lying." "If bo," said Nancy, "seeing that namfc there she will connect it with our presence here, suspect and leap to a conclusion at once." "You talk as if she was in the full swing and sway of her reason. You forget she is half crazy, and though 'tis said crazy people are extremely cunning, they cannot reason, or. if they do, not long in a single, connected train of argument. Besides, if she asks of it we are not to see it?let her think it a vision of her own." "And if she proves to be our mother?" "Proof is impossible. We can only r>r>nr>lnrif? Imnfrino ciinnnco iinlocc chu avows that she is Ellen Elizabeth, once the wife of " He pointed at the name written on the white matting In blood red lines. "And then, Luke?" "And then?and then?well, we will talk about that afterwards," said Luke, placing a piece of gold in the centre of the great D of the name. "Why put that money .there?" "That she may And the name and not be told to look for it" said Hammond, with a grim smile of cunning. "Old Fan can smell gold as a rat smells cheese." "You are lavish with your money." "My money!" laughed Luke. "Henry Elgin's money, and I use it to gain the whole!" Here Kate Elgin advanced and said In a plaintive voice: "Please tell me if James GreeDe has called. I am sick and cannot meet hiin. When he comes let me see him." Certainly," said Hammond. "Would you like to see your father?" "He is in heaven, with my mother," said poor Kate. "Who are ypu?" "Don't you know me, Catharine? I im TTnim nrclo T.nltP TTnmmnnd " "You're a man, are you not, sir?" asked Kate, but combing her long curls with her fingers, and looking at the ceiling, "Yes, I am a man." "Then you are not Luke Hammond, for he is a serpent!" screamed Kate, fiercely, and again pacing the room. "She is quite crazy just now," remarked Nancy. "So much the better," said Hammond. "But I hear Daniel rolling ] Henry Elgin hith-r. Remember that I cannot have my eye on old Fan; watch her yourself." ; "I will," said Nancy, as Daniel rolled the invalid's bed before the door of the ante-chamber. Henry Elgin was lying upon it with an expression of scornful apathy upon his pale and wasted features, but when his bed was halted so that his eyes could sweep through the ante-chambe; into the white and gold, and as he saw his beloved child sitting in a chair facing him he utter a cry of mingled joj and anguish. "Kate; my darling! dear daughterr said he, as Hammond held a lamp near Kate Elgin's face to show the father the beloved features, all wan, worn and wasted. She raised her eyes to his for a second only, then said to Hammond, but looking at old Fan, who stood behind her father: "I thought you were leading James Greene to me." Old Fan shuddered, and looked behind her, as if she expected to see James Greene rushing at her from the deep, dark well. "Merciful powers!" cried Elgin, "my child does not know me! She is mad!" Kate began to sing a sad and mournful song, but laughed wildly ere she finished, and said: 'This is too sad for a bride to sing." "Luke Hammond!" cried Elgin, raising himself upon his elbow, "may heaven blast your soul for this work!" "Henry Elgin," said Hammond, "blame your own obstinacy. You are the cause of this, and I tell you that until you obey my desires Catharine Elgin shall suffer." "Oh, merciful heaven!" groaned the unhappy father, "take me ? let Thy wrath fall upon my head?the sins of my youth merit Thy punishment?but spare my child!" "Of what use are your prayers?" sneered Luka. "Your own hand can end all this punishment you speak of." "I pray you let me embrace my child," said Henry Elgin. His voice, so sad, low and mournful, seemed to touch some chord of remomVironna In nnnv I?r nf a'o m In/1 fr\y* Ui^UiUlUUVC IU puwi UUIC o UiiiiU, 1U1 I she suddenly burst into tears. Hammond hesitated, for old Fan was creeping into the white and gold apartment, and he longed to watch her. He glanced towards Nancy Harker. Nancy sat near the bed, her hand hiding her eyes, but Luke knew those eyes were riveted upon the movements and features of old Fan. "I pray you to suffer me to embrace my chil<V' repeated Elgin. Hammond took Kate by the hand and led her towards her father. "Daniel," said Hammond, fearing I the scene might soften even the stony heart of his accomplice, "go to my library?here is the key?get writing materials ready, and when I call for them bring them hither." Daniel nodded, took the kev and de parted. Hammond bad made a good selection of a villain, for Daniel's heart was as hard as his own. "My child, my Katy?my poor girl!" said Elgin, taking the cold, damp hand of bis daughter in his own and pressing it to his lips, "do you not recognize your beloved father?" Kate seemed deaf, blind and dumb to all around ber. She shed many tears, but her eyes were fixed upon vacancy. "She does not know you," said Luke, j "Blame yourself, Henry Elgin." "Liar! Monster!" said Elgin. He gazed with tearful eyes upon his child, who stood passively by the bed, while Luke Hammond turned his head aside to watch old Fan. Fan had reached the doorway of the white and gold chamber, had crouched down near the door. Suddenly she spied the coin on the floor, laughed gleefully, and reached her hand forth to pink it up. As sud-1 ueiiiy, uuu wnxj it Mjuxp try, BLie Blurted back and stood as erect as she could. Luke moved from the doorway of the hall eager to watch. To be continued. Catting Canaries' Toe Nails. Much has been said from time to time of the many curious means of earning u livelihood practiced in this city, which in this respect is in every way the equal of London and Paris* One man makes a living by cutting the toe nails of canary birds. This may sound absurd, but it is true nevertheless, and shows what is possible in a city where the people are very rich, very *vell educated and very intelligent, and ' who. in consequence, have more wants than the simple folk of a small town ; in the States. Canaries, like all birds living in captivity, and unable to keep tiieir nails, or claws, or rather talons, down to the normal size by scratching about in sand, rock, gravel and wood, have talons that, unless trimmed occasionally. , soon grow to an abnormal size, and in such condition are a positive hin- 1 drance and clog on the bird's move- | ments. Moreover, such lengthy talons are liable to cause accidents that may ; Jesuit in birdie s death. and so it nap pens that it falls to the lot of some one ' to pare them down to normal length. 1 This is a task not only very difficult [ and tedious, but one that few understand or can perform correctly and sat isfactorily. A slight mishap or bung- ] ling may cause the death of the canary, ; and so it happens that a certain enter- i prising German of this city, who has 1 spent a lifetime handling canaries, j finds profit and a livelihood in trim- < ming the claws of feathered pets ic < every well-to-do household in the city. ; ?Washington Post. 1 1 ' One of the important industries of j I.. col*, mi'nlnr* rTVi/v-n Vi/tlnr* xwuLLiauiu id ouu ujiuju^. lueic uciuj, no death penalty In that country convicts under life seutenc? are numerous, and they work in these mines. ' " - . ' ' ' k SERMON FOR SUNDAY *N ELOQUENT, DISCOURSE ENTITLED PLEASURE AND COD." rhe Tev. A. B. KtnuolYing Show* That When the Soul Hal Found It* True Life the Slmpleit Thlne? Will ServeThen a Mao's Heart Laughr. New York City.?The Kev. ur. a. n. Kinsolving, riictor of Christ Church, Brooklyn, prerched Sunday morning on "Pleasure and God." His text was taken from II Timothy lii: 4: "Lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God." Mr. Kinsolving said: ihis is one of those biting sentences of fc-hich St. Paul's letters are full. It occurs in a hurrying category and arrests our thoughts at once. These "two things, religion and pleasure, have always been nere on God's fair earth. They are undoubtedly primal constituents of life, and yet it has ever been difficult for men to harmonize them and keep them on friendly terms. Religious people have often committed the blunder of looking askance at amusement. Indeed, some of the best and most earnest among them have conceived of niety as scarcely less than a kill-joy. They have represented God as intensely jealous of life's innocent as well as its forbidden pleasures, until their systems have gotten to be so onesided, and extravagant, and over-wrougbt, and one-ideaed ana melancholy as to cast on nwful crlnnm unon communities for con siderable periods. Such men have missed altogether the cosmic note of gladness which shimmers in the sunlight, dances in the laughing waters, which ripples and murmurs in the brooks and streams, which smiles from the blue dome above and thrills us in the spring bird notes and the summer, flowers. "The material for enjoyment." says some one. "is so inwrought into the world's constitution that we cannot put a spade into the ground anywhere without turning it un. By travel, by staying at home, by working, by resting, by strain of the muschs or strain of the mind; by speech, by silence; by solitude, by society; by helping, by being helped: by receiving, by giving?by all these different roads do men reach jov." And vet with our eye upon the history of mankind is there not abundant reason for religion's suspicion of the riot of pleasure? What nation of antiquity has not been slain by its sensual pleasures? Run through the list of them?Babylon, Medea, Persia, the Egyptian monarchy, Greece, Carthage, Rome?did not the nassion for licentious pleasure and the effeminacy which in consequence came everywhere in the place where manly virtue and stoic self-control and splendid discipline of body and mind had been; did not these undermine the mighty fabric of Rome itself? Look at the world that Christianity entered. What made it so hostile to Christ and His religion? What made it crucify Him out of its sight and fling His followers to the beasts in the great amphitheatre at Rome? Why, more than aught else the unbridled love of sinful pleasures. With fierce flashes'of anger these heathen liberals refused to have their indulgences interfered with. They would not suffer a faith to be taught in their midst which they astutely saw would have the moral effect of stopping their games, and so they cried with hellish hate: "The Christians to the lions," and to the lions they were thrown. V7e know from the pages of Grote and Gibbon something of the excesses of the Greek and Roman national frames and festivals. "That which began with some 6how of decency degenerated often into the extreme of "licentiousness and ministered to the basest passione. Frequently for days and weeks together they absorbed the public mind, making men oblivious to every moral obligation and deaf to the claims of humanity." Gibbon sfcys that Rome had at one time 3000 female dancers and as many singers, and that when seasons of famine came, while all strangers and even professors of the liberal arts were banished from the city, the dancers were allowed to remain. Their performances were characterized by everything that was morallv degrading, and tHe orgies which ? * J At-, x 1 tooK mace arounn me tempos 01 me uuudess Flora and Voluptas, the Goddess of Pleasure, descended into the depths? of Drofligacy. In the times of Charles VI. of France, in the times of the Georges, the Borgias and the later Louis of France there was only too much to remind men of the blackest moral chapters .in oast history. Men "lived in nleasure on the earth and were wanton; they nourished their hearts in a day of slaughter." No wonder, brethren. with such spectacles before them, that serious Christian people, realizing the deadly peril from this quarter, should in their moral earnestness often have gone too far and failed to recognize that the thirst for pleasure and amusement is a human thirst, and must be provided for and guided and sympathized with, or else it will become religion's rival and antagonist. Again, when men have tried to solve the mystery of iaughter they have advanced very diverse opinions. Pascal thought that the passion for amusement was an illustration of the real unhappiness of most human lives. It is b/cause they want to get out of themselves that they flock so to spectacles of every kind, or gather in crowds to laugh and talk?it is diversion they seek, that is. anything to escane from the somber ordeal of solitarv thought. kC? fit, i/vuuuros. uio c.\j;iaiiuiivii 'ita iijom y i-aaw, but it hardly covers all. Flay and joyousness are among the primitive gifts of human nature. The beginning of comradeship between the mother and child is the hour when, as she dangles some plavthing before it. "the little, solemn face breaks out into a dimpled smile." Humor is one of the closest bonds of sympathy between us. The contagion of hearty, genial merriment is notorious, and the world has generally rightly loved the people who made it laugh. Mr. James Sully, an Englishman of letters, has just published a book, which is n sort of philosophic study of laughter, in which he deplores any wane of this great human resource, and says that "it looks as if now only the more sordid material interests moved the mind, as if eoort had to have its substantial bait in the shape of stakes, while comedy must ancle for popularity with scenic snlendors which are seen to cost money." However this may be, it is perfectly certain that the pleasure instinct is a true note of our human nature and that no life is whole without it. It is the lighter torch of this charming gayety which gives that large freedom and mobii ity to life which it needs for its complete expression. Amusement, relaxation and happiness are certainly part of the cosmic scheme. If at any period God should look down upon His world and see only solemn faces and hear no notes of ripnling laughter, I think it would grieve Him at Hip heart. But here they are ever 9ide by side; lift's laughter and tears, and wherever innocent, we can only imagine the ^reat and kind Father looking down benignantl.v upon all. Nothing is more conspicuous in the character of the Lord .Te?us, with all His intense moral earnestness, than the beautiful simplicity of His sympathy with what we may call the joyous background of life. He begins His wonder-workm? at a marriage feast at Cana, to which He had been invited as a matter of course The prodigal in his story comes home to music and dancing. The kingdom of heaven is itself like?not a funeral?but a feast. He was the enemy of every burden which galled the necks of men and defrauded them of their rightful happiness. Doubtless many an hour in the intervals rif work His soul was soothed by the lyric jov of nature?bv the gentle starlight, bv the song of birds, by those Syrian fields earpeted with unrivaled flower*, by the choral glee of young children on the hillsides and around their homes. But, my brethren, what, think you. would the Christ have said to people who had come to nut pleasure before God? He ivho said "My meat is to do the will pi' Him that sent Me and to finish His work." ind again, "The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to zive His life a ransom for many." He who Found the deepest satisfaction in life in ioing His duty and revealing God's prin :iples and love as the redemption of mankind?how must this Christ think of those ivho negiect their divinest duties for the ittle, teasing, diverting amusements, the ittle yieldings to the spirit of sloth ami dleness which so frequently fill human ives. "What is your occupation?" was isked a young Frenchman some years ago lis ren'v was "J& m'am'ise"?I amuse mylelf. Thft was o*?l.v a frank admission of vhat is the only business of a great many ivea. i Some time ago I went to call at a. hoti?e where there were several young men. To one or two o{ them I bore a message from j God which I am entirely sure it was worth their while to hear. And, having failed repeatrdly to find them in, I took a mother into my confidence and spoke of my difficulty. "Yes," she said, "they are so full of engagements outside of work hours that they seem to have no time to think of anything else but nleasure. It is a continuous round, and while thev are at home they are so utterly tired out that they rest." How many does that simple description ...C.I a. ?p Whv nr.: j?ul wiinu j? luc uuniiw w*. %.. > this, while life slips rapidlv away God and J eternal relations are wholly crowded out. j The young man subsists unon two diets?a j diet of hard work and a diet of hard play, i And the motive in the work ic to get the j means to play, while the motive in recrea- j tior is often chieflv to get the health with j which to work and earn. But what a sel- j fish circle that describes! How narrow and poor and shallow is the young man who pri.'es only his eapnrity to labor and his ap- j petite for play! Who so lightly values all : thoee diviner elements of his being as to be I willing t.o make no provision for their culture! "Lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God." It is n terrible epitaph upon H". whether living or dead: "They worshiped and served the creation more than j the Creator, who is blessed forever, wnerefore God (rave them up to their own hearts' i lusts." These are words to make us stop ' and think. I have often noticed that it is apt to be | the case that it is precisely those young ; men for whom God has done most who are aotest to break away frpm Him and live the mo3t selPsh lives. There are noble exceptions to the rule, which shine like beacons, from Moses to Phillips Brooks. But | too often the privileged life becomes a j worldlv lifp and does not tell in the kingdom of .righteousness. Generally the love of pleasure in some form has in such lives, likes the weeds in your garden, rooted out th^ love and service of God. Men ar.d women, we should try to see life in its wholeness. A great many people have too little laughter, too little recreation in their lives. They would be | wholesomer minded, freer in snirit. if they | could get oftener out of their dark passages and rigid grooves. There are more of such people than we think, and they misa a great deal that God puts within their reach in His many sided world. But there are thousands of others who make them selves imbecile by tne neaaiong pursuit 01 mere pleasure. They never read, they never think, they let their minds go, they foreet that they possess souls, but spend their seasons in things that give them a little passing physical pleasure?in eating for the sake of eating, and dress and getting themselves talked about, in contriving to have their names in some society orcnn, till these things come to be the absorbing thirsts of life. What is not sacrificed by these giddv people on the altar of their social ambition? Where does not this selfishness. this love of voluptuous pleasure, this hard determination to force life to yield them bodily comfort, even if God's and nature's laws must be broken to do so ?where does not this spirit lead? And how ready are our leaders of opinion, sometimes, speaking great swelling words of vanity and sophistry, to ridicule whisperings of an educated and reverent conscience and to revise for the softer age the statutes of nature and of God! Now these are some of the phenomena. What is the remedy? First, this: Put Measure in its true place?as the divine Master did. If vou look uoon amusement as the. one great satisfaction of life, you simply invert the intended order, and in the end are not satisfied. uur aeepcsc want is the great inner reconciliation. We may be diverted, we may for a while escape from ourselves, but we shall never be satisfied until the soul is at one with God. A brilliant writer, the author of "Ourselves and the Universe," reminds us that i "men called Napo'eon the unamusable." Talma might play before him * * * but the conqueror extracted no gavety from the performance. That is the nemesis of self. When, on the confrarv, the soul has found its true life, the simplest thincs will serve. A man then learns the heart's laugh." To make men haopy, my friends, we must not first feed them with nleasnres of the senses. The primal condition of haopiness is that they be true to God and to each other. "The soul cannot laugh its own laugh till God has filled it." In that relation there are the unfailing wellsprings of pleasure. "In Thy rtresence is fulness of ,ioy; at my rignt nana mere are pleasures forever more." "These things have I spoken unto you that My joy might remain in von and that your jov might be full." When we know'that satisfaction of dwelling in God and having God dwell in us. we have a security against inordinate lower desires of every kind. One did not have to warn Washington atrainst wasting his time, or Gounod or Beethoven against making discords. Then we should have a care to retain, as far as may be, the freedom, the mobilitv. the wholesome interest in the rightful amusements of others, especially of younger persons, which will keep us in touch with them. If our diversions and amusements grow on the same stem as our religion; if they are part of one organic unity, there will be no trouble about their regulation. There will creep in them no poison of wilful law breaking, no grimace of an uneasy, conscience stricken soul trying to escape from itself, no waste of time and facultv, no hunger for vulgar display. Being in the secret of God. we shall have entered into the secret of the child's heart, and livC In sen Bible relations witn every part, 01 uoaa great world. The lasting- pleasures of life are not the fleeting pleasures of the senses, but those of the mind, the soul, the snirit, the pleasure which comes from a cultivated intellect, from sound and noble thinking, from refined tastes, from love and sympathy and service. Nothing For Its Own Sake. The Gospel interpretation of life n "nothing for its own sake." It is only right also to say that that is the interpretation of nature. Everything has upon it the stamp of ministry, searcciy an instance where selfishness has any play. The sun shines, but not for itself; rain tails, but not for itself; plants grow, but not for themselves; bird3 sing?surely not for themselves only; trees cast shade, bear fruit, never for themselves. It remained for a blind man to talk about things for their own sake; like "truth for trutu!s sake," "art for art's sake," etc. There can be no greater fallacy than such teaching. The sentences are forceful and eunhonious. but they are misleading In the measure that they seem to be strong. It is the principle of selfcentering, instead oi' true otherisui. When men were religious for religion's sake; when religion was the end of religion, what a caricature it developed of that which should have been the blessing of the world. When religion is for anything other than for life's sake it is a libel on the Lord and Master; men are not serving Him so much as they serve themselves. The so-called dark ages illustrated religion for its own sake to most elaborate perfection. When men believe in art for art's 6ake, they follow in the same path. Whenever a production of art, no matter of what nature, fails to minister to life it is a failure, no matter how beautiful its conception, or how true to nature it may be. This definition would take manv. many pictures from our walls, and doubtless many musical selections from our pianos. As one looks at the larger movements of life, as represented by men and women working and struggling up the stairways to a higher existence, the truth of this contention is yet more apparent. How much simpler the struggle would be if we let ?o of those things that exist only for themselves, and hold on to the things that minister to real life. What an inspiration to ncivii?, "Jrnw u. ? u"-,v I would be all over the world. When Peter * asked the Lord what he should receive for following after Him Peler asked the auestion of the world: What shall w' fiave therefor?for this sacrifice, for this gift, for this service to men? Nothing?beyond the sweet and priceless jov that we have been ministers to the world, catching ihe inspiration of Him who lived not for Himself. but freely gave Himself. ? Baptist Union. Enters Into the Maiter'? Joy. He who lifts another's load, who soothe* another's smart, who brightens a life that else would be dark, who puts a music within a brother's soul, though it bn only for a < passing moment, wakes even a sweeter mu. c within his own, for he enters on earth into his Master's joy, the joy of a redeem* I ing, self-sacrificing love.?H. Burton, M. A, 7 * THE SUNDAY SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR MAY 31. Subject: The Iire>fliTln| 8p!rlt, Bom* Till., 1-14?Golden Text, Bom. rill., 14 ?Memory Torse, 1?Commentary on the Day's Lesson, I. Freedom from sin through Christ (vs. * *>\ i arm < a mi. e i'0). i. inereiore. xmi reiera iu mo whole previous argument, and especially to the previous chapter. The apostle has shown in the previous chapter that the law could not affect deliverance from sin, but that such deliverance was to be traced to the gospel alone. "Now." The last chapter closed with an account of the deep distress of the penitent; this one opens with an account of his salvation. The "now" in the text refers to the happy transition from darkness to light, from condemnation to pardon, which this believer now enjoys. No condemnation." As condemnation is the result of disobedience this clearly implies that the believer can live without transgressing the law of God?Be may livi free from sin. "In Christ Jesus." The whole previous argument of the epistles makes it plain that those who are in Christ are those who have been justified through faith (chap. 5: 1). 2. "The law. A law is a rule of action established by recognized authority to enforce justice and direct duty. The word law here means that rule, command or influence which the "Spirit of life" produces. "Spirit of life." The close argument following implies that the Spirit of life here ia camp aa tnn Knlrit: r?f And nf Christ in verses 9. 11, 14; and this can be no other than the Hoiy Spirit in chapter 5: 5. He is the Spirit of life, for all life springs from Him. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of life because He leads the?oul to escape the sentence of death, and tBen "animates it with the energies of the new life." "In Christ Jesus." Christ Jesus is the meritorious cause of justification, the head of the justified and the giver of the Spirit. The meaning is that deliverance from sin and death is by faith in Christ, through the medium of the Holy Spirit. "Free." Liberated from the bondage caused by obeying the dictates of evil. This is not a partial deliverance, but a freedom from all bondage. "Law of sin and death." Sin and death are partners of one throne and issue one law. To obey sin is to walk in a path marked out by death. 3. "The law." The law of Moses?the moral code, as is always meant when not otherwise defined. "Weak." The law was Eowerless to deliver from sin or to produce oliness. It could not secure its pwn fulfilment. "The flesh." The term flesh has several different significations. In this instance it has reference to man's corrupt and fallen nature. "Sending." This refers to Christ's birth and nlainlv imoliea that Christ was God's "own Son" before He was sent?{hat is, before He became incarnate. "In the likeness," etc. That is, He took upon Himself a human body, similar to ours, but not controlled by sin. In Him was no sin. He was made of our flesh in the likeness of its sinful condition. "And for sin." "As an offering for sin." R. V. "Condemned sin." Proclaimed its downfall in the human heart. Christ came to destroy the works of the devil. Through . the atonement man may be saved from sin. 4, 5. "The righteousness." The demands of God's righteous law which could not be met by us when we followed the evil inclinations of a corrupt, sinful nature are now fulfilled in us who live and act as the Spirit guides. "Flesh?Spirit." "Men must be under the predominating influence of one or the other of these two principles, and according as the one or the other has the mastery will be the complexion of the life and character of the actions." An evil frpp Vin'nnra fnrfVi pvil fruit nnH n crnnH trPA brings forth good fruit. II. The carnal and spiritual contrasted (vs. 6-8). 6. "Carnally minded." To allow the carnal or corrupt nature to gain the ascendancy and to be controlled and led by it. "Is death." Not "will lead to death," but "is death." Such a course not only ends in eternal death, but those who are carnally minded are dead already ?spiritually dead: they are dead while :hey live (1 Tim. 5: 6; Eph. 2: 1, 5). "But," etc. On the other hand .to follow the leadings of the Spirit and cultivate the graces of the Spirit, "is life and peace"?is the design of our existence and the only true path of happiness. 7, 8. "Is enmity." This is stated as a reason why "the mind of the flesh ia death" (v. 6); it is opposed to God and hates God. "Neither?can be." This is absolutely certain, because it is a carnal mind and relishes earthly and sinful things and lives in open rebellion against Goa. "So then." Because the carnal mind is enmity against God. therefore "they that are in the flesh"?those who are led and controlled by the dictates of their corrupt, fleshly nature, "cannot please God." and consequently are doomed to eternal death. III. The condition of those who follow the Spirit (vs. 9-14). 9. "But." Paul now gives the picture of the regenerate state. The Spirit." The Spirit, the Spirit of God, and the Spirit oi Christ are merely different expressions for the Holy Spirit, f-Vin nurann nf flip Trinifr in you." The Holy Spirit is often spoken of as dwelling in the hearts of Christians. See 2 Cqr. 6: 16; Gal. 4: 6. This is more than a good influence or disposition; it is the actual and personal indwelling of the Holy Ghost, producing all the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5 : 22. 23), and leading into all truth. "None of his." This is the supreme test bv which we may know that we have passed from death unto life: loud professions, the ordinances, zeal tor the cause, many prayers, generosity?none of these can save us. 10. "Body is dead." There are a variety of opinions as to the meaning of verses 10 and 11. The following from Beet seems quite clear: "Because of Adam's sin the body of those in whom Christ dwells is dead, that is, is a prey of worms and corruption, but because of the righteousness which is through Christ and through faith the> spirit which animates that mortal body possesses undving life." 11. "But if," etc. Barnes thinks this verse does not refer to the resurrection of the dead. But others think the reference is to the resurrection. "yuicKen." -aiase alive. The reference is to the resurrection day. 12-14. "Debtors." We are debtors to the Spirit, but to the flesh we owe nothing. We disown its unrighteous claims. "Shai! "e." If you live to indulge your camai propensities you will sink to eternal death. "Mortify." "Put to death, destroy. Sin is mortified when its power is destroyed and it ceases to be active." "Deeds of the body." The corrupt inclinations and passions, called deeds of the body because they arc supposed to have their origin in the fleshly appetites. "Shall live." Shall be saved. Either your sins must die or you must. No man can be saved in his sins. "Led." Submit to his influence and control. "Sons of God." Children of God. This expression is often applied to Chria nans in tlie isiDie. A Gigantic Water Scheme. The entire elevated region known as the Peak of Derbyshire, in England, is to be made a source of water supply for the four aties of Derbv, Sheffield, Leicester and Nottingham. The gathering pound of the water Ties at an elevation of from 500 to 2000 feet above the sea level, and covers an area of fifty square miles. All the sources of the River Derwent will be collected, bflt one-third of the water is to be returned to the river to protect vested interests along its course. There are to be five reservoirs, with an aggregate capacity of 10.500,000.000 nn/t nr.cf /\f nnnafrnnfinn will Ko $50.00.000. It is estimated that the work will take ten or twelve years. The Aua erlean Nile. Mr. Forbes, of the Agricultural Experiment Station at Tucson, Ariz., calls the Colorado River the American Nile, because of its possibilities as a source of irrigation for the alluvial bottom lands around it. Nearly 500,000 acres of these land have been surveyed. The Colorado resembles the Nile, not only in being subject to an annual summer rise sufficient to overflow the adjacent lands, but in carrying to them an abundance of fertilizing silts. Mnch Mineral Water Consumed. The consumption of mineral waters in the United States has been increased enormously until it now aggregates $18,000,000 worth per annum. m THE RELIGIOUS LlfM READING FOR THE QUIET HotilH WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF, Poem: Create Jn Me. a Clean Cocalitent? A Word to the Kan Whi^'^B la Ever Talking of Hypocrisy of Pi^fl fetied Christian*. 9j Oh, Father, heed the prayer! In m'e create H A heart unselfish, freed from worldly "S Cleanse now my soul from sin's unwortbfv^B Regenerate by grace the mean and vile; 'H That mine may be a life of purity. Hj Be Thou my strength, and bid my /aitfi. HB increase. Bl I With human weakness, Lord deal pa*.;H| Bestow 1'hy love and grant Thy wonr-^Bj 1 drous peace. ara > Though sin and death abound on every. Though men are false, in Thee we may And thpough life's trials this my prayer [ snail be: H A clean, pure heart, 0 God, create in me; I Heal all my troubles with the touch divis?^ H And cleanse and keep this erring heart or H| mine. ' # v - -Miss Margaret Scott Hall, in Xew York H Observer. Ha What "Con?Ut?ncy" Leadii To. iTcu will not join a church because of in*"* coDeibtent church members! Consistency* then, is the word you wish to emphasize. Very well, replies Rev. Newell Dwight Hi?lis. Here is the world oi trade and cnm- ' merce. To-morrow, merchants will adulterate their goods, traders will tamper with their weights, milkmen will water, their milk, drapers will sell cotton for silk-^ clerk? will steal monev from the bank, ana the whole kingdom of trade standi for hypocrisies and lies. Since you do not care? to associate with hypocrites withdraw from business, and pledge yourself never again to enter the kingdom of commerce. It inconsistent members keep you out of church, why do n?t inconsistent members^' keep you out of business? Here is the* kingdom of law. To-morrow lawyers will be tricksters. They will suborn witnesses^ ?> 1 ?:J tm? ?wni i.ney win cunce&i cviueutc. iut; ?iu ww^ in subterfuges. But because some lawyer**" are unprofessional will that compel yon to stand aloof from the study of jariapro* .dence? Here is the kingdom of love and marriage. To-morrow some man will play false to his marriage' vow, and some won*-'' an will profane the holiest sanctities/and those who have solemnly pledged themselves to the law of love will stand'forfii! clothed with hypocrisy as with a rartoent,.But does their inconsistency meanutot yoa. }. can never found your home, and that yo?iv? can never stand at a marnage altar, and never swear fealtv in the name of an eterV^ nal friendship? Why, there are spots oii the sun, but we neea the sun for harvests . rr- v. ?j. f J.U UC I'UIISIOICU W; ?U U U1UOV up vtm^ Venus de Milo because there is a flaw ik the marble. We must pull down the Parthenon because there are black stains on' , the columns. Now, something is wrong*Ht ' the man who refuses allegiance to the ' church because of inconsistency, but torn* * around and gives allegiance to a hundred : other institutions, in the very face ofgreater inconsistencies. The time has gone forever for men plead the bigotry and bad lives of the worthy disciples of a Master who confegfe* edly is worthy. Peter and Judas were not .2 Christian and misrepresented their MasterBut in that hour of misrepresentation they ; ceased to be disciples and became hypo? j crites. Let all those who dislike hypocrw/ ?, leave immediately the comnariy of Judas- 1 and Peter' with his denial and- join the- . ranks of the other ten. We grant that ~ there are men outside of the church "whe- < i.1.? . - arc oenti ^tiiuu suuc iu tuc vuiuvui and then a youth appears in the.realm of jfl art who is blessed with such native genin* 9 that instinctively he understand* the kits 9 of drawing and perspective and the law* of a harmonious color. And side by side witit m him is another youth who for years ha? If been in the school under a great artist*- ;m master, and after long drill can scarcely .11 eoaal his brother, who is self-taught. But ;.fl shall this gifted youth who has received: j I so much from his parents and his God de- JS claim against his father, or despise tbfty'fj school of art? ] There are many poor pupils in school* '3] and colleges^ but when you find some .4 j youth who is far from being the scholar, do not rail against the college and gB the university. The poorer the scholat the^jjH more necessary the maintenance of tbe*:3|. school in which he studies. Not otherwise,, if men in the church are sinful and Teak and full of error, it is the more necessary to strengthen the church, that manhooa J later may Decome strengthened. Uncon- I sciousiy he who urges the inconsistency of Christians^ and rails against their errors-" has lorged a weapon mat iunu sguwv. himself. j How ungenerous are all these ereuses, as. J well as how wicked! We live in God's j world. He hath fitted up this world-house- ] as no prince hath ever fitted up the halls- of a palace. We breathe His air, are J wanned by His summers, we feed, upon/- M His harvests, we are pilgrims who stoop ,1 and drink at His fountains. The angel of j His providence goes before us to prepare life's way; the angel of His mercy follow* s after us to recc -er us from our trantgrefr^jff sions. And how shall men meet such ov?r* > 'j? flowing generosity save with .instant obe- ' & dience? What mark across the page of w memory so black as the mark of ingrati*' 5 tude? . - ^1 Duty by itself is a hard taskmaster. It does not touch the deepest springs of joy. j '-j If we depend 'non the duty sense alone -f', we bhall find it comfortless, cold, lonely? afy there will be a minor undertone of spiritual sadness in our lives. The present age not one of wanton Dursuit or pleasure ana < * excitement, as is often said. It is a duty- ? loving age. But -c is characterized by a settled sadness. People feel the. duty of %?> engaging in the various works of thechurch and of defending its creeds and doc- J trines. But this is malting of our religioa ! what has been called something harsh and ' strident, something to be tenariousiv held and asserted, rather than nobly held and lived.?The Rev. Dr. Greer, Episcopalian, New York. Trusting the Unseen. Are we not daily all through life's journey trusting ourselves to bridges whose supporting piers are away down beneath the water, believing in their strength without a doubt, wondering or complaining when by chance one of them trembles or 4 swerves a hair's breadth in the storm? We : walk the bridge of life. Can we not trust its safety on the great resting places of God's wisdom that are hid from us in the I depths of the two eternities??Phillip* I Brooks. a Phantoms. | He who spends his years chasing phan- * ' toms will find what he sought at the end of life.?United Presbyterian. ^ t A Heart Keligton. A purely intellectual Christianity, to which the mind accedes, but which does not enlist the heart's affections and con* tro! the motive and spirit of a man so that his temper and conversation are mastered by it, has no influence or power for Christ before the world. It is only a heart relig- '}$ ion that rings true in the market places of 60cial fellowship.?Rev Louis Albert Banks. Leave Anxletlen to God. Let us leave anxieties to God. Why need we bargain that our life should be a sue- ; ???.' etill tint it cVinuM nnt a siirv cess purchased by sacrifices and sufferings, 'v* ?James Hinton. The Fepper Tine* The United States Consul at Bombay sends to the Bureau of Foreign Commerce, some interesting information about the climbii^j vine to which the world owes ita1 supply of black pepper. It is found wildj in the forests of Travancore and along the, Malabar coast, but is cultivated in Southwest India, whence it was introduced into' Java, Sumatra, Borneo, the Malay Penin-; sula, Siam. the Philippines and the West t Indies. Tne vine has spikes of white flow-; ers?twenty to thirty flowers in each spike I ?which ripen into fleshy berries the size of j a pea. Each berry contains a single seed, and the seeds., when crushed, make the I g black pepper of commerce; if the cortical be removed white pepper is produced. j