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l| LUKE H> | THE I 11 By Prof. Wm. Henry Pc I f Author of the "TB Stone-Cntte II of Usbob," Etc. CHAPTER XX. Continued. "My life! In New York! And Charles Ib Infatuated with this Madame Burr!" cried Hammond. "Perfectly mad about her," said Marks. "She stops at the Astor House." "What! at the Astor House? Charles will find it out and go there, and that terrible woman, Harriet Foss, will see him, watch him, track him hither!" criea naiuujuuu. "I vriU tell you a secret," said ^John Marks, in a grave, deep voice: "Madame Burr, as she calls herself, Is?Harriet Foss!" Hammond staggered, almost fell Tvltb terror, and his pale lips muttered: "My son loves Harriet Foss!" CHAPTER XXI. JOHN HARKS GBOWB 6USPICT0US. While Hammond -was recovering from hi6 surprise and terror, on learning that his son was infatuated with Harriet "Foss, Marks remained silent and as unconcerned as If no such being existed. "Marks," said Luke* at length, "this Is frightful." "Why delay to tell your son of your present situation?" asked Mafks. "Or do you resign your plan of making him Ihe husband of-Catharine Elgin?" "If I tell him all, he will despise me." "No doubt of that. Nay, more, Charles will attempt to set the captives tree at once." "Do you think that?" "I know it," said Marks, emphatically. "Your son is what men call an honest man. t wonder at it, too." "Does he know his Madame Burr is In New York?" "He told me she should be, for she sailed from England for Nert- York before he left, and he says he is pledged to introduce her to you. To morrow ne mtenas to nunt ner up. "Does he know she 4s the enemy of tJB father?" "No, I did not tell him that" said Marks. "I told him that his description ot Madame Burr tallied with that of the Harriet Foss you feared, and that he had better consult with you before seeing her. He said it was impossible that Madame Burr could bear malicehe swore she was an angel. He is infatuated, I tell you. By the way, here Is her miniature. He showed it to me, and I have kept It to show you. See." Luke took the miniature in his hand and gazed upon it in deep silence. "She Is still a most beautiful woman," said he, at length, "if this picture does not flatter." "Flatter! It fallis far short of doing justice to the beauty and charming expression of Harriet Foss," said Marks. "She does not see:n thirty, is stately, crect, of splendid figure, and has a emile that enchants, a voice that thrills." "Ah. yon, too, are infatuated!" cried Hammond, his eyes flashing with suspicion. "Bah! I am beyond infatuation," eaid Marks. "But there Is a hope for you. Charles tells me she loves him." "She lies!" exclaimed Luke. "She loves revenge, and she is seeking it I must send him off. I must put thousands of miles between hini and Harriet Foss! John Marks, you must remove her." "Speak it out in plain Anglo-Saxon," said Marks. * "You must kill her!" said Hammond. "Ha! That might kill Charles," laughed Marks. "No jesting,' said Hammond, fiercely. "First to get rid of Charles. I v cannot hope to force him to marry Catharine Elgin. Innocent as he is, there is a gleam in his eye that tells me of a dogged determination. I must . Bend him off. Let me think. Ha! I have it. The morning train leaves for Boston at 5 o'clock 'Tis now near 2. A passenger packet for PPATIPP TTllI cnil frnm TiAe+nn nn the 13th at 7 o'clock. I have goods on her?for I dabble in everything. Charles shall be supplied "with funds , and letters?I have time to write a few ?and he shall leave America at once." "And Catharine Elgin?" asked Harks. "I will marry her myself," said Luke. "Ob, the mischief:" cried Marks, and then resorted to his cigar, while Ham' ffinnd rlnshpfl nfP hnlf n rtnr.pn lottorc with a hasty pen. It was nearly 3 in the morning when be finished the task. "And now to awaken my boy," said be. "I would like to have Nancy Harker ?ee bim before he goes." said Marks. "Why?" asked Hammond. "An idea has struck me, that's all." said Marks. "If he recognizes her, he may remember something about tliat little playmate of his?my son." "You are suspicious, Marks. You think your son is not alive." "You are right; and I am right to be wary in dealing with Luke Hamr^ond," said Marks. "Very well; I will call ber up," said Luke, pulling a bell cord and then saying in the speaking tube: "Are vou awake. Nancv?" "Yes. Has be come?" was the reply from the tube. "As if Stephen had not told her," muttered Luke. Then in the tube again: "Yes: come up." Silence was preserved until Nancy Harker entered through the closet passage. Hammond was writing when she appeared, l?ut John Marks' eyes. which i D.iuicl Li; J once compared to coals oi. W ? Us . "< ...i / f 111 \MMOND, rllSER. jck, I Copyright 1836, 7 j? I by Bosrai Boxsixn's 8os?. | 2 S (.AU right* reserved.) j t? fire, seemed to blazo as he watched Nancy Harker's face. "Where is he?" exclaimed Nancy, glancing around and not perceiving Charles. "Asleep probably. I will summon him In a moment." said Hammond. "You have told him of your prison ers?" asked Nancy, eagerly. "No. I am afraid to do it yet I am about to send him to France." "To France! Immediately?" asked Nancy. "Yes. It appears be already loves, and the "woman he loves is in New York." "Who is sbe?" "A Madame Burr. You do not know her," said Hammond, glancing significantly at Marks, that the true name should be concealed. But John Marks had a reason of his own for revealing the fact. "Madame Burr is Harriet Foss!" said Marks. "Oh, my heart!" exclaimed Nancy, sinking into a chair and almost swoon ing. "I am going to lead him hither," said Hammond. "Perhaps he will-recognize you as his aunt." "He "will not. He has not seen me for many years," said Nancy. "Would you like to see him?" "Oh, yes; but do not introduce me to him," said Nancy. "I will busy myself brushing these glasses while he is in the room." "Very -well," said Luke, and left the library. "As for me, I feel sleepy," said Marks. "I will lie down upon this settee and catch a nap. But I can never sleep with my face uncovered." He drew a silk handkerchief from his pocket, secretly punched a hole through it, and spread it over his face as he stretched his long frame along the settee. A shadow fell over his face, already hidden by the handkerVv-r.4. IP Vnnntr ITorl-nr VlO/1 < ! atlODfl I ill CI, L/Ufc AX *14UV.J UUlttVt that "way she might have seen a keen, brilliant eye gleaming through the hole he had made. ^ut Nancy Harker's eyes were riveted upon the door through which Charles was to appear, nor did she dream that John Marks was reading her face. The door at length opened, and Hammond appeared, followed by Charles, who seemed much surprised and annoyed. Nancy -was very pale, and supported herself for a moment by leaning against the wall. "Can you not send some one else, father?" said Charles, as they entered. "Impossible, my dear son," 6aid Hammond. "I cannot now explain the cause of this. I have just received important letters, and either you or I must go. I cannot?my affairs demand mTT TipocotiM horo Ynn iiTo the nTllv one I can trust Here are letters. Here Is money. One of there letters is a letter of credit. Use it economically, iny dear son. You will not have been long in Paris -when .you shall receive a letter from me unfolding everything. Among other things seek for information concerning a Madame? Madame?what is her name? -where is that letter?" He tossed over a heap of letters, selected one, and pretended to glance at its contents. "Ah," said be, "a Madame Burr." "Burr!" exclaimed Charles, turning pale and then red. "That,is the name," continued Hammond. "A pretended widow of wealth." "A pretended widow!" cried Charles, all aghast. "She is an imposter" said Luke, carelessly. "She Las ruined many young men In her time. A very handsome "woman. A bitter enemy of mine, also. She has been in New York " "Has been!" cried the unhappy Charles. "Yes. She remained a day only, and fearing exposure, has taken passage for Fiance. She left this morning. Try to learn nil about her from the French police." "The French polico!" "Ah, she is well known to the French police," said Hammond. "A friend of mine writes me in great distress of heart. It seems the arts of this Madnmp Rnrr nllnrprt thp son of mv fripnrl and the young man eloped with her to England a few months ago. The young man has never been heard of since." "Great God!" groaned Charles. "You seem excited, my son. Do you know her?" John Marks snored loudly. "I?I think?in fact?I do know a Madame Burr," stammered Charles. "But it is impossible that she can be the person of whom your friend speaks in his letter." "It may not. my son. But be cautious," said Hammond. "Hate all the Madame Burrs you may meet. But I will write you more fully. By this time your trunks are at the Metropolian. When you reach the railroad uejjui you wm nnu mem. .urs. nariier, call Daniel and Stephen." Mrs. Harker cast one long, fervent glance at the handsome and now sorrowful face of Chnrles. and departed. A profound silence ensued while Hammond packed his letters, and Charles seemed {speechless with bitter thought. The two servants appeared. "Stephen," said Hammond, "conduct my son to the Boston railroad depot. Use haste. Daniel, go to the Metropolitan Hotel. Here is an order for you to take charge of all baggage marked 'Gleaner.' Have it conveyed to the L'ostcu cars, but"?here he whispered to Daniel?"say that you are taking it to Biooklyn. And now, Charles, I trust when we meet again, we shall not part f so soon." Marks suddenly woke up. . Charles went to him, and as be bade him Vgood-bye," he whispered: "Did you tell my father anything I i i..l J ? -v 0 "3M I IU1U )UU Ul JittUUUiC XJUli ( "Not a word, as I am a gentleman. You bound me to secrecy, you know," replied Marks, in the same tone. " 'Tis very strange," thought the simple-minded youtk. "Come, Charles," said Hammond. "You have no time to lose. You will wi6h to take a hasty breakfast at the depot. Farewell, my sojj." "Farewell, dear fatiber," said Charles, and followed Daniel and Stephen from the library. "You've sent him away with a heavy heart" said Marks. "No," said Luke. "It "will grow lighter,every instant, for he thinks his Ar.i/fnme Burr is In Paris, and he will hurry to get there. Confound my Bister's Interference. If I had reared him be "would not be such a booby." /'He is no booby," said Marks. "He Is simply honest and unsuspecting. And, thunder! if a man cannot trust his own father, whom can he trust?" "Enough," said Hammond. "And now, John Marks, you have work to do." "Aye, with Harriet Foss." "Yes, or by whatever name she may love to be called." "Charles must learn of these plots and deeds in the end," said Marks, preparing to depart. "He must learn some?not all," said Hammond. "I have given him a let ter to an old friend of mine in Paris, who will take full charge of him for a time, and prepare him to think me less a saint than he does. I do not Intend that Charles shall ever return to America. Within a month I shall be in France myself. Leave the house by the rear, and when you come again, bring good news and prove it true. Stay, I will lead you to the private door." They left the library and parted In the alley that lay behind the house. Hammond returned to his library, and John Marks walked away into the darkness, muttering: "I watched Nancy Harker. I suspect She has deceived her brother, but by my life she shall not deceive me. Charles shall not leave New York. As there Is blood in my body, I believe Charles is th3 sen of John Marks!" CHAPTER XXII. TWO OLD FRIENDS SHAKE HANDS. Leaving Luke in his library, plan Ding new viiiamy, lei us see uu w u fares with those below. The day hfid been passed by Kate In sadness and tears, when alone, but with defiant and scornful looks when Nancy Harker was with her. Kate had felt much relief in not being intruded upon during the day by Hammond, though his last words? "Tremble to think, that, as I am not your uncle, I may become your husband"?burned upon her brain and tortured her mind. "He will scruple at nothing," thought Kate, and though hunger began to { assert its terrible power, she dared not touch the food brought by Nancy Harker. "I have eaten nothing since my imprisonment," said she, as she reflected upon her dangerous situation. "I have been two days without food. I am growing very weak. Unless I am released before the end of two days more, hunger may drive me to become | Luke Hammond's victim. My heart j is strong and resolute-still; but I do not know how long my body can endure this self-imposed starvation. Oh, God! give me strength to thwart this wicked man!" Night came on, and sleep overcame her again, and she was asleep when the j events of the preceding chapter tran- | spired. Yet in her sleep fearful dreams j haunted her repose. She would not lie j upon the bed; she feared treachery, | sudden and swift. So in her chair she rested uneasily, tortured even in her sleep by dreadful thoughts. Thoughts of her father, of herself and of James Greene. To be continued. How Singer* Are Paid The highest figure ever paid to a I singer at Covent Garden was the sum I of $4R OOft nnirl tn \fmp Ariplina Pntti I in 1870 for sixteen appearances, or | $3000 for each appearance. Mme. Patti j has, however, beaten this record in her j American tours, when she obtained, as she did at New Orleans, in the eighties, \ as much as $6000 a night. M. Jean de Reszke holds the record for male singers, his contract for sixteen appearances being $30,000, while , the famous Polish tenor never fails to | stipulate for free hotel expenses and a j certain sum for carriages and horses. The famous Lasalle has always drawn his $2000 a performance, and during the Golden Jubilee of 1887 he appeared with the two De Reszkes at one time on the stage, the aggregate of their nightly salaries amounting to over $5000. The Gift Horse. Once upon a time an inquisitive man, who acted regardless of the ancient proverbs that contain good advice, was given a horse that had a streak of viciousness in its character. When the giver had departed, after having received the thanks usually given on such occasions, the receiver, having deep curiosity as to the hprse's age, raised its great upper lip with his two thumbs and proceeded to inspect its teeth. He found that the horse had sufficient teeth for biting purposes, for the animal, resenting the intrusion of two thumbs in his mouth, closed on them with a vicious snap, with the result that the man found himself with only eight fingers rra his two hands. Moral?It is dangerous lo look a gift horse in the month.?New York Herald. The Larceit Automobile. The largest automobile in the world is being constructed for a Parisian doctor. In it, accompanied by two medical students, he intends to make a trip around the world. It will have two sleeping apartments, a large work1 room and four big tanks for storing oil.?Rochester Union and Advertiser. A ccw's hide produces thirty-five rounds of leather and thai of a borse : i eighteen pcuuds. A SEEMON FOR SUNDAY AN INTERESTING DISCOURSE B DR. HOWARD DUFFIELD. Subject: Heart Failure ?The Antobloi raphy of Our Souls in Often Statue With the Very Faithlessness WhSc Blots the Memoirs of the Apostles. New York Cirr.?Dr. Howard Duflie'.i pastor of the Old First Presbyteria Church, Fifth avenue and Twelfth 6tree preached Sunday morning on "Heart Fa: ure." He took his text from Mark xi< 50: "And they all forsook Him and Hed Dr. Duffield 6aid: What cowards! Comrades of Jesu shall a three years' friendship with tl Master come to such an end: Shall ti intimacies of man months go ewirlii like leases in the wind before a puff panic fear? Apostles of Jesus, why vr: ye be pilloried for poltroonery? Wh< defeat brooded over the hills of Gilb< and the remnants of the armies of Jsra lay strewn through the Judean valley Saul and Jonathan died together. Wh< Socrates kept tryst with death the prise yard in which he sat became like a nail banqueting and the jail stones echoed wil the converse of devoted friends wistfui rhnrintr with him the cud of hemloc When the sun of Austeflitz that hi bathed the earth in glory at its rising, sai eclipsed in blood benind the plain of W<i erloo, the files of the imperial guard dre up as on parade and died beneath the fla But in the hour of His extremest need tl comrades of Christ "forsook Him ai fled." Those that had seen Him walk tl storm swept lake; conquer disease with finger-toucn and dethrone death with syllable, when a 6quad of hirelings wi ewords, and the riffraff nf the city wii staves, came out to take Him, they forso< Him and fled. Jesus walked the pathway of tears, ai no one kept step with Him. The ho1 has sounded for chivalry, and His frien* exhibited poltroonery. The call was f heroe3, ana those He loved phowed the backs to Christ, instead of their faces the foe. Occasion beat the long roll, b the battle line became a rout. Imagii that scene reversed. Imagine that cord< of apostles buttressing Christ against ? sault as with a citadel of rock. We cj almost see ioem ruuwiig mcjijocivco u storm-defying oaks, and opposing t metal corslets of Christ's foes with t breastplate of their invulnerable affectio We can almost see them converting Get semane into a Gibraltar of affection, ai shattering the onset of embittered pert cution upon the impregnable front of devotion that was stronger than deat 'We are well nigh envious of their oppc tunity of renown. The possibility of such loyalty has n yet passed away, it has not yet become ii possible for one to 6how a stalwart ai giance to Jesus Christ in the face of cc tempt and antagonism. "They are not y dead that seek the young child's lire Christ does not recede with the ebb passing years. The men of His age a deeping in their sepulchera. You and J are pushing our lives alo the line of some cherished endeavor ai we face the problem, "Does the trend our daily life carry us toward Jesus does it bear us out into the night? Do 1 take the bearines of our course from t r\( Poiifamrt Will TV a offtTlH Christ or slink away from Christ? W we strike our colors or keep them flyi under fire? Will we cleave to Jesus closely when men crown Him with thor as when they hail Him with hosannas Too often the words of the text are tra scribed upon the pages of our experiem The autobiography of our souls is ofh stained with this very faithlessness wh: blots the memoirs of ,the apostles. Wh does it mean? The first element of heart failure is di unoointment. The apostles had a very w< defined theory as to what Christ had con to do for them, but they had thought ve: little of what, they were to do for Hii They had a clear conception of the prer quisite of discipleship. They were deep concerned as to the pattern of their crowr They knew to a nicety the comparatr altitude of their thrones, and they we anxiously parcelling out the cities ov which they were to rule. With their fe treading the very ascent to Calvary thi were badgering each other as to which them should be (greatest. Jesus had con +? ffivo n lifp nf pnep and Rplf'-Kati faction. No more stormy nights out upc Gennesaret; no more tupzing at the ne and pulling the wet cordage of their boat no more -weary days brawling in the Cape naura market place to get salt for the meat and butter for their bread. Chri had a whole cornucopia of splendors empty into their lap?kingships, and di nities, and thrones, and scepters. Wh< as with a lightning stroke all these foT dreams went whistling down the win and their cloud palaces vanquished lil mist at sunrise, disappointment thrust i iron into the soul, and away they wen epurred by an impulse which for the m ment was irresistible. Their thought h< been centered on the good they were get. not upon the good they were to do. It is not impossible that you and should just as mistakenly interpret ti purpose of Christ's mission. In some pi otal moment the consciousness of sin u expectedlv leaps up and chijls us 'with i shadow. We are lashed by the scorpw whip of conscience. We shudder at tl thought of death. The awe of eterni overshadows us. With timid fingers "v open the Book of God. With eager e; we scan the page of Scripture. A wondroi gospel salutes us. Glad tidings ring lil music through our hearts concerning Oi who has a welcome for the outcast, wl can whiten the most soiled soul, who w uplift the fallen and recall the wanderin and who has planted His mighty heel up< the bead of death. We kneel rejoicing at the fool oi the cross. We surrender 01 life into the keeping of Jesus. We vie Him the ready homage of our hearts. Th< comes the danger hour. Then we are peril of thinking how much Christ has give, and too little of what He is trainii us to give. Then we are prone to dwell imagination with the spirits of just m< made perfect, and the companies of tl shining oues who walk with Christ in glor until we lose touch with the men ar women who throng about lys warped ar stained with the Fin and sorrow of tl world. We forget that forgiveness not the last word but the fir word of the Gospel. We forget thi pardon is not the last utterance bi the first utterance that Jesus has spoke We overlook the fact that there is a cultui of character which demands the energy i a hero and the patience of a devotee, thi there is a service of others that calls f< the crucifixion of self. Another element of heart failure doubt. How was it no6sible for the apo ties to recognize a Messiah under arres' Was this the upshot of centuries of prop ecy? Was this the story that the messe: ge'rs of God had been telling of majesl and glory and of victory? Was the Prim of the house of David to be dragged awa in chains and the Lion of Judah to I thrust into a cage? Clouded in their pe cpntinna in their thought. t'Ol founded by the inrush of doubt, Jesu disciples hurried away beneath the shai ows of a nijht that" but faintly sugee! the dark questionings that must have sfiai owed their devoted hearts. This is an age of doubt. Demon whi pers are upon every breeze. Siren sonj are at every turn. " Faiths are under tf scalpel. Creeds are in the crucible. B iiefs are upon the anvil. A searching an pitiless criticism i6 passing under its ler everything that men have counted helpfi .inu noiy jn rne uavs gone ny. ror one, do not regret it. iFlame will never hari cold. A file's tooth cannot bite a diamoni .But an ape of doubt brines many a doub ing day into the hearts of faithful and lo' ing disciples. The champions of the fait had their doubting days, the record < which is written in the Scripture with pen dipped in tears. There came a da when David loving, trusting, aspirin spirit that he was, bemoaned the tim when God's face was hidden. There cam a day when Elijah, that man with nerv of steel and heart of fire, lay spent an worn bv the stress of mental conflict und{ the juniper tree in the desert. There cam a dav when John the Baptist, that, moun ed like an eagle to greet the dawn of trutl felt his heart weaken and his eye Kin There comes a Gethsemane to every on that is following Jesus closely, a tiine r darkness, of loneliness, of a wrestling i the night, when those that love ujs mo?eem wrapped in sleep, unable to eompn hend the conflict that surges within on 7 sou!. There are doubting days in the calendar of exnerience when the earlb tremb'es beneath the feet, when the guiding stars of destiny are veiled with a cloud, when the altar flame of life burns intc ashes, when the eyes of faith are blinded with a mist of tears, and when hope bows her serene head and hides her radiant face Another element of heart failure is fan A *ni- ---v r\f nprennn ** gt-T. JLUC1C V> CIS (111 CIClUEill :b peril that night which we must not forgel to introduce into our analysis of the im pulses that drove the apostles nwav fron d. Christ. In all likelihood the thought o u danger little affected the comrades o: ;t, Jesus. With us it is apt to be the over il- mastering consideration. The retreating anostles were not so much afraid of som< " things as we are. We talk about ahsoiutf monarchy. We rehearse stories of Siberia! s? atrocity until, the bloou chills. There ii " e but one absolute monarch?the czar of hu J? man opinion. The ukase which he iesuei drags as all into a Siberia of meanness bu of faintly tipyfied by the degradation o ill those glcomy mines tint burrow into thi >n Asiatic mountains. The opinion of th< ja world exiles finest feeling. It dungeon el truest manhood. It rivets chain and bal s, on our loftiest aspirations. It vetoes iade :n pendence. Vve dare not be free and manl; >n and genuine. It makes mr feet fast infthi of fttor-ks of its whims. We are ail the whili ch asking which wav the wcather-cocjk point: of ?and we trim. We are diligent in inquir k. ing\how the current sets, and we veer, in id stead of asking whither the needle point: ik and setting our prow to the pole star; in it- stead of reading the chart and laughing t< w scorn the fret and roar of the billows. Wi g. serve Christ, by the world's permission he Whv should we be so deferential to thi id -world's opinion? If you slip, will thi he world help you up? If vou have blotte< a the fair page of your life, is the worl< a helping you to whiten it? If vou are sick th will the world play physician r If you ar< th struggling with all the energy tnal is ii 3k your soul to scale some starry height o purity and of nobility will the world leni id you a hand? When .your ^nth enters th ur "valley of the shadow will the world wall do beside you on that lonely and mysteriou or way? When your stay here is ended wil :ir the world spend one thought upon you to keep flowers growing on your grave or tea ut the lichens from your tombstone? Ther ne is one who loves you. one who. wheneve in you slip, has an arm of love ready to catcl '9- you: when you fall has messages of hop in ready to whisper in your ear. Tie wil ke whiten vour soul. He will gird vour weali he ness. He will school your ignorance. H he will share your sorrow. He will companioi n. you as you cross the frontiers of time. H b* will introduce you into an uncloudei id eternitv beyond. Why care very much fo in- iKa /-?tmtiir?r? nf fKo wnrM in "trhiVh TCP AT a but a fraction now, and in which to-moi h. row we will be a cipher? Why not ver; >r* keenly care for one whose love envelop our being as with an atmosphere? m. Turn the pace and read the later story c jg_ apostolic loyalty. The sequel is differen in. from the preface. Call the roll of tha glorious company of the apostles and hea , ? every compass point ring with fidelity t of Jesus. Read how they sowed the eart re with martyr blood from Abyssinia to Ir dia. Begin the chronicle with that trad; n- tion of Simon Peter, who was led out t Q(j death in the Roman amphitheatre whil 0f his wife was crowned with martyrdor or before his eyes, to shake if possible th tre stanch rock of his bedded faith. An he while she suffered he called her by nam by and addressed her in terms of most endeai if] ing affection and exhorted her to remen ng ber the love of the blessed Lord and to b ag firm until the very end. His turn cam n8 next. He had but a single favor to as r> from God as he stood tbere in the ol ft. Roman circus face to face with death, an ,e- that was that he might remain firm fo jn' one more hour. He had but a single favo ch to ask from man, and that was that h might be crucified head downward, as i wa?too great an honor for one who ha |9. deserted Jesus to suffer in the same wa ?U Jesus did. The whole company of th anostles went sweeping home to thei ry Master in chariots of fire. They seale n> their allegiance to Him with their blood gince the night of panic they had_come t ]y 62e Jesus under a new aspect. They ha l8, known Him as a friend. He had a'plac re at their table and a voice in the home tali re He had a seat at their firesides and er share in their plans. They had strolle* et together up and flown the field paths By They had paced side by side through th 0{ city streets. He had "colored tbeif- sva ie pathie9. molded their character, enriches jg. their lives: but the bond of friendshi] )n broke in the hour of trial. They hai known Him as a teacher. They had beei s. fascinated by the crystal-clear form of Hi ,rl statements. They had thrilled to th |jr searching and subtle touch of His mour st tain sermon. Thev had felt the subtl t0 charm of His parables, but the spell of Hi g. wisdom did not keep them true on th ;n night of His betrayal. They had seen Hin \a as a miracle worker. They had beheli the storm sleeD like a child at His con je mand. They had witnessed leprosy con tg verted into purity at His touch. They ha< seen the winter of the sepulcher blooc 0.' into the spring when His sandals touchei !(j the lintel of the tomb, but the power c to Jesus did not armor them to look upoi the face of fear. But since that hour o I heart failure they had come to know Hir i)e as their Saviour. They had seen Jesus di v. for them. They had felt the touch of lov n. that death could not quench. They ha* ts been beneath the arms of the cross out ,n stretched to shelter them. They had caugh ae the accents of His parting praver, "Fathei ?V forgive." They had heard His triump] r'e shout, *'It is finished." As their R< pe deemer Jesus riveted them to Himself wit) ug hooks of 6teel. In this day oS lorce worship it is timel; ae to uplift Christ as the vitalizing energy c jo humanity. It is pertinent to emphasiz the deathless power that resides in Chris tianitv. It is interesting to watch it soai >n ing like a phoenix from the ashes of Jem 'V salem, smiting like a mailed giant the force of the Graeco-Roman civilization, swecpin lCl like a white-winged anjrel of mercy beyom :n the Alps and tr.e Rhine, and 6catterin glorious benedictions upon Scandinavian t0 Celt and Saxon; to watch it as it Carrie ?P tne same beneficent potencies to the darl *n continents and hermit nations of our, owi *n time, and blessing with its exhaust'es &e bounty attic and cellar, avenue and alley and' parlor and schoolroom, and marke 14 place of latter day civilization. In this.hou 1(1 of culture-craze it is timely to mark th unique wisdom of the Christ and lo noti that through all the ages a train of gilte< s* minds has brought the treasures of thei life and laid them at the feet of Him wh< :t was cradled in the Bethlehem manaer; t< n- observe the masters of human tnough bowing with wondering homage before th< sweet and the clarity of Christ's insight to remark how the boldest of the skeptici >r become deferential and unsandal whei they pass within the charmed circle of thii 15 singular per?onalitv. But when I see on< ?*- - J *i- aL ? i:_l_*. , WHO owe.; Ill ice JlgiiL ul ujc h.'.y in vm f hastening clown into the shadows and mis eries of this stricken earth; when I beholc n" Him stripuiug Himself of those robes o: J divine majesty which He wore before th< :et world began and appareling Himself witt that sad-hued vesture which we mortal' )e wear, stained with woe and broidered witi r' tears; when I behold Him who was th< n; centre of angelic adoration, in pathetic ? loneliness, becoming a target for the scorr ^ of the world, despised1 and rejected of al j" men, spurned by bigots in the tribunal oj His people and buffeted by brutes in the guardroom of the Roman; when I marl; the bolt of doom that was whistling in its ^ flight toward my heart bury itself in the bosom of His love, and all this for me, foi .* me, a sinner, then I am His. Then, ii ever, the elemental depths of being arc stirred and a loyalty of affection is enkinj died that knows no swerving. m What can we do to show appreciation of * I-Io Vine* r!r\tao 9 Vfj nnn mti rlr* Each one can do something. All can be i-. true to Him. We can stand wherever in }, Scripture He calk us to stand. We can if stand wherever in Providence He beckons a ns to stand. Having done all we can stand. v Never will we stand alone. In the silent i'g watches of the night One who never sleeps will pace with lis the sentinel beat. In ie the hot, fierce day of battle One whose e strength ia never weary will fight at our d side. When at last the bugles sound recall r it will be a prouder trophy than an angel's ie crown to have our Saviour smile a welt come, because we were true to Him under i, fire; and it will be sweeter than the music i. of an angel's harp to hear Him say, "Well ic done." Ail cannot win the epaulets. >f Every one can be true to the honor of the n flag. Few can walk at the head of the it cfMimn. Every one can be n.ini)>ert-! with > those "nho never turned the back, but r :ua:cheJ l:cu?i icrward."' : I THE SUNDAY SCHOOL1 ; INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS ' I FOR JUNE 28. i lt?Tlew of tlie lennon* Studied Paring tbe Second Oourter?Read Horn. i.> 1-7, I 13-13?Golden Text, 2 Tim. ! ., 18Topic, Paul'# La?t Day*. J Introduction.?The lessons this quarter ; E : coCer the last few years of the life of the ' ' ' apostle Paul. It is supposed that he was " j released from hif first imprisonment in j 5 A. D. 63, and that he then made a fourth j 5 I missionary journey, visiting Macedonia, and I J j probably Spain, and Asia Minor, whence I 1 j he was again carried a prisoner to Rome. I 0 j He was beheaded near Rome, on the "Os- I " tian Way," by Nero, ia about the year 63 j ' | A. D. Thus ended one of the grandest and j 1 j most fruitful lives the world has ever seen, i ' j Summary.?Lesson I. Topic: Paul's min- j i istry at Ephesus. This ia near the close of R Paul's first missionary journey. After the | s riot at Ephesus he visited Macedonia and | * Greece, and returning, he stopped at Mile- ! * tus, a city about thirty-five miles south of I f Ephesus. He sent for the elders and bade I - them an affectionate farewell. He urged i s them to take heed unto themselves and to s all the flock; said that grievous wo'.ves ' would enter in among them, not sparing * the flock. He called attention to his life of 3 I self denial and labor. After this they * : kneeled down and prayed. > I II. Topic: The change that will take s place in the body at the resurrection, j * j Christ's resurrection is fully established, , e 1 and Hi3 resurrection is an important r?a- j ? I son for believing that all the dead will be i J raised. This mortal body cannot inherit i ! the kingdom of God, but must be changed. . j 'Plus will take ^Jace when the last trump e ; shall sound. Through Christ we have viea i torv over death and the grave. Paul f uraes the church to be steadfast, unmov* 1 t ' ' j;-- .l. ?_l. ?.v,? 3 ?o;e. always aoounuir^ m mc ? ?? ui e Lord. Ic IIT. Topic: Purity of life. Paul wrote a to the Romans from Corinth. Christians II pay their debts except the debt of love, i, which is a perpetual obligation. The one r who loves his neighbor as himself will not e trespass in any way. It is time to awake J r out of sleep ajid cast off the works of dark* b nes8 and put on the armor of light. AVe e should "put on" Christ and make no proviII sion for the flesh. ; IV. Topic: Paul's comin.g afflictions, e . Paul reaches Tyre; meets with a cordial n reception; continues his journey to Caesae rea; enters the house of Philip, the evand gelist, one of the seven; tarried there j * many days; the prophet Agabus arrives: ! <? take* Paul's girdle and binds his hands and | * fe'tet; says that thus Paul will be bound at y Jerusalem and will 'be delivered to the s | Gentiles. When the disciples heard the prophecy of Agabus they besaught Paul not I to go to Jerusalem, but he tola them that I he was not only ready to be bound at Je* ! rusalem, but also to give his life for tne x , truth. 1 V. Topic: Paul mobbed and rescued. ? j As soon as Paul reached Jerusalem he con" j ferred with the elders of the church. He !' then entered into the temple and nitrified ' | himself, according to the ceremonial law. 0 Jews from Eohesus saw him in the worn* c ' en's court with strangers, and supposed he D had taken a Gentije into the temple and ? thus polluted it. They stirred up a moD ? , against Paul for the purpose of taking his e j life. Paul was rescued by Roman soldiers, r" and afterward while standing on the stairs l" | delivered an address to the assembled ? I throng. .e VI. Topic: Paul delivered from the * 1 Jews. At the close of the address delivd ered on the stairs the mob was again d j stirred against Paul. Lysias, the Roman 1 captain, was about "to scourge him when he , 1 learned that Paul was a Roman citizen, j ? After this a conspiracy was made against ? l Paul by the Jews, forty of them binding [ d I themselves together under a curse that j y thev would neither eat nor drink until they j e had killed him. The plot was discovered, j r and Lysias sent Paul with a strong military a ; escct. to Caesarea. i [ j VII. Topic: Paul's good confession. Paul j o at Caesarea; a Roman prisoner; is tried d before Felix, the governor; Jews come j 8 from Jerusalem accusing him; the charges | r. were sedition, heresy, sacrilege; Paul's de- | ? fense was, clear and unanswerable; their d charges could not be proved; Paul con- j fessed that he was a Christian. After cer- ! e tain days Paul spoke before Felix and his i* j wife, Drusilla; reasoned * of righteousne!"?, d | temperance and judgment to "come; Felix.' S trembled; hoped that money would be given him that he might release'Paul. n | VIII. Topic: Paul's defense. After Paul 5 . had been in prison two years he was called e i hpfnrp PeRtns. the new governor of Judea, l? i vd King Agrippa, to make hi6 defense, e ! Paul had appealed to Rome., and Festtis s ; desired to frame a charge against him. e I Paul's address deeply impressed Festus and n ! Agrippa. and thev decided that if he had 3 , not appealed to Rome he might have been i- i released. But his appeal was allowed to i- ; stand, and arrangements were matfe to d send him to tbe imperial city. i n I IX. Topic: Life through the Spirit. The j f1 , law has no power to deliver from sin; it is j i ; weak through the flesh; Christ, who came n in the likeness of sinful flesh, has power to f ( save from sin. The Christian is rot cara ; nallv mirded. but spiritual!*' minded: he e wa'ks not after the" flesh, but after the " Spirit. The Holy Spirit, dwells in the d hearts of those who are Christ's; such are > j led by the Spirit of God. t j X. Topic: Paul's voyage to Malta. Paul 1 set sail from Caesarea to Rome August 21, b J A. D. 60. They landed at Fair Havens on ( [ the Island of Crete during the stormy seah | son. Paul advised them to winter here, but Julius, the centurion, who had charge, decided to sail for Phenice.'a more commo? ! dioufi port of Crete. On the way a hurri * cane ptruck them, all hope of being saved was given up. tut fina^b' they abandoned !* the snip and escaped to Mnlta. XI. Topic: Paul ^reaching to the Jew3 l* j at Rome. Paul nerformed many miracles 3 ; on the Wand of Malta, and the people of ? ! the island honored him and hip comrwiions 3 J with many hones. In the sorinz Paul and 8 | the other? with him were taken to Puteoli. '? i near Xan'es, The apostle then went to ? j Rom?, called the Jews together: explained 15 ! why he was there a prisoner and preached s Christ. 9 j XII. Tonic: The duties of the Christian '? minister. Paul wrote his letter to Timothy * . from Rome. These were among bis last r words. Timothy had learned mnch ^one i cerning the Scriptures when a child. Paul ? | charges hixri tr> be faithful as a minister J and 1o preach the word. He l!s attention r | to the fact that the time will come when 3 j sound doc trine will-not be endured. Tinf | ? j xthy is told to watch, endure and labor. Battleship as a Target. 3 J The naval authorities at Brest are; it is . . nnnnnnrpfl. about to carry out the bold ex- ' 3 periment of firing a shell at the Suffren, , 5 one of the newest battleships in the French j Navy- The shell is to be aimed at one of . ' the turrets with the object of ascertaining ; j the general effect of the shock of the shell j f striking the ship, and more especially upon > the mechanism operating the guns mounted i ! in the turret.. The Suffren will be fired at t j by the Massina at S00 yards distance. The i j crew will stand to stations during the ex, I pei-iments, but no one will be allowed on J deck, i [ From Bulldogs to Automobiles. , In Chicago a marriage license costs $1.50, ; a dog license ?2 and an automobile license | S3. Thus it will be seen, wittily observes , the Motor Age. that matrimony*is encour- j ; : aged by the officials and the industrious young man may marry and gradually work ! ; I up through the different strata of society, I i frern bulldogs to automobiles. The Scratch Match. For a year the use of phosphorusmatches ' has been prohibited in Sweden. The new law has resulted in the invention of a match by the engineers Landin and Jernander, which has been named the "repeticken," or scratch match. It will light against a wet surface. It is said to be less ' poisonous than a safety match. It U Far, Far Away. The fixing of the distance of the new star in Perseus at 400.000.000,000.000 miles gives the first approximation of our distance from the Milky Way, in which it is situated. Largest Automobile Club. The honor of possessing the largest membership of any automobile cluo in the world re?ts with the Automobile Club of fireut Britain and Ireland, which has ucw ; no less than 21S0 members. . THE RELIGIOUS LIFE | READING FOR THE QUIET HOUft '3 WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. A Trying T?st of Character?Tt In Dli9enK j For Soiiia Perauna to AnolotU* t# 'J Thoie ffhoiii Th?y H?t? \Troat?d?41 Impressive Example of Humility. The hardest thing for some persons to do j? is to apologize to another whom they have fa wronged. Yet there is scarcely any other y, way in which greatness of character may be more strikingly manifested. Every one' ' is liable to be overcome by sudden tempta* ,1 tion and say or do that which he after- | ward regrets. Then comes the struggle' J* with the better self. What shall he do?. Humble himself and apologize, or yield to : ./ his pride and let the matter pass, perhaps; to rankle in his own breast and in the breast of him who has been wronged? He ..s is a great man who is willing to publicly' acknowledge his error and ask forgiveness. tjj This was aone bv a Methodist bisnop who ? okornU. of o MMIt* conference, and the act not only healed a' wounded heart, but increased the respect and reverence" for the biahop himself. The greater the difference in nositioc, the more ? impressive may be the effect of an apology* It is related that while professor of artillery practice and natural philosophy at Lexington College "Stonewall" Jackapn had occasion to censure a cadet, who had ' given, as he believed, the wrong solution of a problem. On thinking the matter ovep at home he found that the pupil was right '' and the teacher wrong. It was late at 7 night and in the depth of winter, bot he-y immediately started off to the institute, .1 some distance from his quarters, and sent Wk for the cadet. The delinquent, answering with much trepidation the untimely ram mons, found himself, to his astonishment, ;v_ the recipient of a frank apology. The les- : son of that act, however, made a more laat ing impression upon the student than any | ne ever learnea in me cmssroom. To-Morrow and To-Morrow. > . The disposition to live solely in the pre*-' ent seems to be universal. To-morrow is & factor which we are ?o apt to ignore. Take no thought about to-morrow, sufficient unto the day i6 the evil already. To-mor- ; ? row steals away the most vital interest^ of . ? life. It robs eternity of its own. Few men j expect to die unforgiven. Religion is an obligation of which tne most thoughtless i* & well aware. He is going to be a Christian to-morrow. If the future had no cares of % id own there might be some reason for oar g procrastination, out every day brings ft* g own obligation. Work done in advance is ; E done easily. No one ever did his best tu?* -S der the lash of necessity. They who seek i* God early shall find Him. They who seek Him late shall find Him, too, hut not a# ;x they once might have done. It is almdjt imDossible to redeem an opportunity when ? once it has passed. The water goes over : v. the wheel but once. No amount of regrets can compensate for our past mistakw. f There are so many parts of a mis-spent life. But the mistakes of yesterday follow on. ;> They trail our footsteps like bloodhounds. What you would do, do now. That which j belongs to the present must be done in thfr JF present, or not at all. To-day ? oupf^ friend. We can rely upon it, but Utrndf'' row is liable to be an enemy. We may or may not be ready for it, but its coming i* certain. The wise make ready in advance, but the foolish wait for tomorrow. They wait and suffer.?Presbyterian Journal. No Power Like Love. . There is no power like love'on earth or . ? in heaven. Illustrations of this truth occur in every sphere. In a missionary school, ? in Porto Rico a little boy who had given1"? S ; trouble in several classes was put into the class of a lady who seemed to win hint from the start. She had no trouble witii .^s him. As accounting for this she said that5 V? he had very beautiful eyes, and that every time she looked at him she was.reminded vjy ./ j v- _?i. lx??T!#SI( oi a near urotaer wuu uiu mcu w? v.sa before. Tbe love thus awakened in teacher's heart mace itself felt for good in' '-j j the boy's heart. Year ago, in a London Sunday-school a teacher showed _ remark-^! able power over the boys put into her^a j class, even those who were roughest. Every, ;'-Vl one of them was won to Christ, and this- \ was the case with each new boy brought - '& under her influence. The superintendent on one occasion referring to this facfc Tjl asked what was hef peculiar way .with, 'ysm rough boys. Her quiet, answer was: "I | don't know of any peculiar way I have,- ?? Only, whenever I look into the face of a. ,5m boy who is given into my charge I think/5 * 'Here is a boy for whom the blood of the Son of God was shed.' -And because o^ <;#K that thought I can't help loving him. ft **? may be the boy feels some qf that love.' ^ jfa When from anv reason there is real lov?- "^ for a Dupil in the teacher's heart tbe puoil' ',35 is likely to feel it. There is no power likfr . v, j i w Do Ton Travel on Good Roads? ! Good roads are a matter of religion* as well as of national life. We must learn j that the amount we can carry depends nQt j bo much on the weight of our burdens a?..<. j on the road over which we try to cany J them. A man can haul three tons over a ; J good macadam easier than he can draw a ' - J ?J?.1 1. - -...JUAI. B/W. jew nimureu-.veijsijL imuugu a uuuuvn. ""'' -am a man can carry great burdens who is up- ' held on the rock of God's providence, wfio ' would stumble and fall as he tried to floun- i der on through the mires of the world'*'discouragement and discontent. A*; Thomas a Kempis said: "He rideth easily enough whom the grace of God carreth. John Kitto was a poor boy, deaf and a dumb, and brought up in a workhousp?a. I lot hard enough to. cast down many lives. ; but he trusted in God, he thought and I wrote of God's kingdom, and he wrought I great things before he died. It does not I matter so greatly what we have to bear, or I what genius or sift or power we hare to1 I bear it with, as it does over what roads of fl doubt and fear and fretfulness, or of faith 'I and courage and singing, we try to bear'1 our burden.?Sunday-School Times. fl j "God Says Be Will." 9 1 Trusting God is the privilege and the m dutv of e>?ry child of God. Knowing bow Lfij God can do what is essential in the answer- ffi ing of one's prayers to God is not necessary Sa on the suppliant's part. Even a child can. H understand that truth, and the wisest phi- I losopher cannot get beyond it. A little Mi j boy was praying to God, as his mother had H taught him to, for help in his need. Being Kj ' asked how he thought God could attend to H him while he bad" everybody else in the world to care for, he replied: "1 don't know anvthine about that; oil I know i? H He says He will and that's enough for me." B| That was a child's faith. President Mark Hopkins was one of the most prominent KM Christian philosophers in America. He expressed the same truth as the trusting' rfl child when he 6aid: "There's no conflict BP between faith and reason. It's the most H reasonable thing in the world to believe H that God will do as He says He will. H That's faith." How good it is to trust B| God implicitly! H Eapb Better Than the Last. tt| The Rev. F. B. Meyer eays regarding find's rironiises: "God's promises are ever Jg on the ascending scale. One Heads up to another, fuller and more blessed than itself. In Mesopotamia God said: "I will 6how thee the land.' At Bethel: 'This i? the land.' In Canaan: 'I will give thee all the land, and children innumerable as the f;rains of sand.' It is thug that God aJures us to saintliness. Not giving us anything till we have dared to *et that He may test us. Not giving everything at first?that He may not overwhelm us. And always keeping in hand an infinite reserve of blessinz. Oh, the unexplored remaind* j crs of God! Whoever saw llis last star?", A Sew Marine Torch. A new marine torch for emergencies is f? portable incandescent light, and upon which contact with water generates a brilliant illuminating gas, automatically lighted by a chemical device and inextinguishable by wind or water. The light is so balanced that it floats upright directly it en-, ters the water. The light is made in from " J? 300 to 10,000 cand.e power, according iu size, and burns, it is said, up to halt an hour, while it illuminates for reading up to 150 yards distance. Kmploy Chineie Gtrlg, Chinese girls are being employed in San Francisco r.a telephone operators, for th# accommodation of Chinese merchants.