The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 08, 1903, Image 2
[f LUKEHj
|{ intL r
| I By Prof. Wm. Henry Pe
i | Author of the "TSe Stone-Cutte
| f of Lisbon," Etc.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Continued.
"Nothing new. An imposture that
dates back nearly twenty-five years.
My true name Is not Luke Hammond.
About twenty-five years ago I made
the- acquaintance of an American
gentleman, to whom my facial and personal
resemblance was so remarkable,
that my own 6ister twice addressed
him. supposing that he was I. This
gentleman was of my age, and even
1X1-7 IUUCO VI V U* * UJV.CO UCiC OiUJiiai.
He had been traveling over Europe
and Asia, and even Africa, for seven
years before he met me in London.
Soon after we became acquainted he
Sickened and died, and before his death
he gave me all his papers, letters and
effects, to be delivered to a young lady
In Nfew Hampshire, to whom he was
betrothed. He told me that he and
she had pledged their vows when he
was eighteen, but that her parents had
consented to the match only upon the
condition that he should wait seven
years?that is, until he should be
twenty-five years. He was an orphan,
rich, and with but one near relative
on earth, a sister, who afterwards became
your wife, the mother of Catharine
Elgin. Being by nature of a roving
disposition, and by the will of his
father in full possession of his inheritance,
he determined to travel, especially
as the parents of his betrothed for
fcade any further communication between
the lovers for at least five years.
Bidding his betrothed adieu, and exchanging
vows of eternal fidelity, he
et forth upon his travels.
"He was returning when he died in
London, after confiding to me his story
and effects, with a will which bequeathed
the greater part of his property
to his betrothed, and the remainder
to his sister. Among his effects I
found a miniature of his betrothed,
which she had sent to him a few
months before, for after a silence of
five years, correspondence had been
renewed. The name of his betrothed
was Clara Sandford, and the beauty of
her picture determined me to attempt
an imposture which should make me
the husband of the original. Besides,
I would by success become master of
a handsome fortune, and bury my own
identity in that of Clara's lover. In
fact, my own liberty, and perhaps my
life, demanded that I should fly from
England and conceal myself in
America.
. "In pursuance of this design I made
myself master ol' all the information
contained in this young American's
letters, as regarded himself and his
friends. He had no acquaintances in
England, and fortunately for my success,
-was traveling under an assumed
name, as is often the practice with
travelers who delight in a little mystery.
He died and was'buried under
his assumed name, and I took his true
name and came to America.
"Seven years of travel will always ,
make a great change in one's appear- ,
ance, and as he was only eighteen
when he left New Hampshire, it was ,
not thought strange by those who once
knew him that they found much difficulty
in recognizing a former youthful
townsman m tne tall, dark ana bearded
stranger of twenty-five years of age.
> "I had learned that Clara Sandford's
parents had died, from her letters to
her lover, and that his sister had married
yon, Henry Elgin, and settled in
this city of New York, before I left
England.
"At first glance Clara Sandford recognized
me as her long absent lover.
"This was not strange, as I had
learned from her letters to mm that she
had no likeness of nim, and eagerly
desired one, a request with which her
lover had not complied, as he desired
to see if she would recognize him after
years of separation.
"Knowing this, I easily forged his
writing, and sent her my own likeness
v-ln miniature as his. a few davs hefnrp
I left England."
"What a scoundrel! what a wretch!"
cried Elgin, unable to control his indignation.
"You flatter me," sneered Hammond,
and continued:
"Clara Sandford was the first to recognize
me, and afterwards others did
the same. We were wedded witAiil
one week after I met her."
"Poor, unfortunate, miserable woman!"
exclaimed Kate, bursting into
tears, and forgetting her own bitter
wrongs and fears in her sympathy for
the unhappy mistake of a fond, noble,
and faithful heart.
Hammond compressed his lips with
silent rage, and after glaring at Kate
fiercely, continued:
"Fearing ultimate detection from her
friends, who often conversed with me
of the dead man's young days, thinking
me him, I gave out the report that
I had ozee been smitten by a sunstroke
during my travels, and since
then that my memory of my life prior
to that misfortune was very defective.
"Still I feared detection, as I often
saw several of the old playmates of the
dead lover eyeing me suspiciously, and
heard tbem say that it was very
Strange I had forgotten so much.
Therefore I sold out all my interest in
the little village, and settled in Virgmia."
"And your wife? The unfortunate
1 .1 !?'J?
Tiiuuj ui jour siupeuuuus ueeeu."
asked Elgin.
"Ciara began to suspect something
wrong after we bad been married four
months," said Luke. "I continued to
deceive lier until in my sleep, during a
slight illness, she overheard me babtoling
of my first and dead wife."
"Ah!" sighed Elgin. "Unfortunate
Clara! I knew her well?she was a
xiOMie lady, rod iier fate most cruel." I
Kate was sobbinc bitterly aud Ler!
In
Btoj .
. >*> U .. . .
\MMOND, )
4ISER. Jl
jck, I Copyright 1896, I I | '
I by Eodckx Bonneb's Sosa. | 9
I (AS rights reserved.) I
face was hidden by her manacled
hands.
"You see, both of you, what manner
of man I am," said Luke, seeming to
swell with villainous pride of his cunning.
"So do not think to baffle me."
"Go on, fiend! Go on with this catalogue
of crime, that we may hear the
end of it, and be rid of your detestable
presence," 6aid Elgin, sternly.
"Clara heard enough from my treacherous
sleep talk," said Luke, "to more
than arouse her suspicions. We were
then in Virginia, near Richmond, far
from the home and friends of her
youth. She was In my power. I con
fessed all to her, and begged her for- i
giveness. I told her her lover was i
dead. I was able to prove to her that j
he was no more. I showed her his last <
will, and made the fact of his death ?
clear and beyond all doubt to her mind. ]
I appealed to her as my wife, as ber <
husband, to forgive the deceit, for, by j
my life, Henry Elgin, I had learned
to love her." j
"Wretch! who could not have loved j
the gentle and beautiful, noble and
faithful Clara Sandford?" cried Elgin.
"Did she forgive you, monster?"
"She did forgive me; not for my J
sake, but for the sake of our then unborn
child," said Hammond, very pale
and much agitated, hard-hearted vil- 1
lain as he was.
Henry Elgin groaned, and poor <
Kate's grief was pitiable to see. t
Little did Luke Hammond know t
that a third listener was hearing this s
confession, and hearing it with
clenched hands, fiery heart and hard- f
set teeth?longing to be able to burst &
from his confinement, and strangle c
him there on the spot?kill him! crush
him as a venomous thing unfit to live.
Hammond continued:
"But after Clara heard that I was
not her lover, but a spurious Luke
Hammond, triumphant in my plots,
she never spoke to me, or came near
me, when it was possible for her to
shun me without creating suspicion, or
attracting the attention of those who
knew us. All my efforts to win her
love were useless. She remained faithful
to the love of her youth, though
in his English grave."
"Noble, true-hearted woman!" said
Elgin.
"And I, Luke Hammond, or whoever
you are," cried Kate, with sudden vehemence,
"will be as true to him?
James Greene, whom you have assassinated!"
"May heaven help thee, my noble
girl!" said Elgin, and longing to tell
her that her lover was listening bo
near.
Hammond?for so we shall continue 1
to call him, for the sake of clearnesssmiled
his hard, incredulous sneer, and I
continued: f
"At lengtn, a few weeks before our t
child was born, Clara lost her reason." c
"I do not doubt it!" sighed Elgin. \
"But she was not wild in her insanity,"
said Luke. "She became as if \
deaf and dumb?blind to all around
her. She became a mere living ma- t
chine, without thought, desires or more t
than mere life. She died two days I
after the birth of my son." I
"She was most happy in dying," said r
Elgin. t
"After her death," continued Hammond,
"I gave the child to the care of a
my sister, who Was living near at the
time, though none suspected her to be r
my sister. Then I came to Npw I
York "
"May that day be accursed!" ex- c
claimed the fiery-hearted Elgin.
"I easily deceived your wife," said g
Luke. "She had no reason to suspect j
deceit. She had not seen her brother
for more than eight years, was very j
ill T no ssf PIako
in, auu a, ao me uuouaiiu vi viaia,
and Clara,. too, had often exchanged 3
letters "with her and with you. You and
your wife never dreamed that I i
was an imposter." t
"Never! If I had I would have slain ,
you, or seen you dragged to prison for ]
life!" cried Elgin. "And now, monstrous
villain! what is your true name,
and who are you?"
"That is of no importance to you,"
said Hammond. "It should be enough
for you to know that I am of no kin
to your daughter, and the bar of
kindred blood cannot prevent me from
becoming her husband. Let it suffice
to say, that my mother was the daughter
of an English nobleman, my father
the son of an English squire "
"Enough! I care nothing for your
descent! What is descent to us of
America!" cried Elgin, scornfully. "I
wish to know your true name."
"And why?" asked Luke.
"To?no, not to curse it," said Elgin.
"A feeble man like me, a repentant
Sinner?tnougn, xnans neaveu, uoi
such a fiend as you are?should not
presume to curse a fellow-mortal; but
I wish to hear it that I may know the
real name of the villain who so triumphs
in iniquity."
"It is dangerous to me to utter it,"
said Hammond. "It will accomplish
nothing to tell it; and now, once for all,
Henry Elgin, will you make over your
estate to Catharine Elgin, dating the
will prior to your supposed decease?"
"Why do you not complete your villainy
by murdering me at once?" demanded
Elgin.
"It would be horrible for a daughter
to marry the murderer of her father."
"Think not I would marry the son .
of Nicholas Dunn though death were j
my only alternative!" exclaimed Kate, j
"Ah! you have learned so much," ,
said Luke, sneeringly. "You heard " ,
"You and Nancy Harker conversing (
during my pretended delirium." said 1
Kate. "Father, this man is Nancy
Harker's brother, and old Fan is their
mother!"
"Two' demons and a witch for their '
mother." said Elsin. . I
"Catharine Elgin," said Luke, with
3tern ferocity, "I said that it -would be
horrible for a daughter to marry the
murderer of her father; but it -would
[>e more horrible for a daughter to be
the murderess of her father."
"What do you mean, sir?" asked
Kate.
"I mean, and I swear it," said Hammond,
rising, "that if you do not eonsent
to be my wife, and to marry me
to-night, your father 6hall die, and you
shall become mv wife, whether you
will or not My wedded wife, too. No
sham ceremony. To men like me,
means to make such as you act and
speak, yet not know what you do, are
never wanting."
"You will give her stupefying drugs!"
sxclaimed Elgin, in horror.
"I will. So enough for the present,"
said Hammond, as Nancy Harker
rapped at the door.
He opened the door and said:
"Henry and Catharine Elgin, it is
nearly dawn. You shall now behold
each other for the last time. I will
leave you together for a few momeuts,
that you may consult upon your situation.
You, Elgin, I advise to persuade
Four daughter to yield. Catharine. I
idvise you to persuade your father to
3o the same. You can not escape. My
sister will be in the ante-chamber. Do
not be afraid of being overheard; you
noTr Trhicr^T TT/YII ITnATT Pnmo VOTIPTT
?? Um]7Vi| J VU UUV ?f. VVMi^i AlUUVJl
sve will leave them alone together for
l time. You may close and lock this
loor, and lie down upon your bed.
iVfter a quarter of an hour, lead Miss
Elgin to her prison, and when Daniel
)r Stephen has returned, come to me in
ny library."
Hammond and Nancy left the room,
md Elgin and his daughter were alone
n the Crimson Chamber.
CHAPTER XX1T.
CHE CBIMSON CHAMBEB ANI? THE
LIBRARY.
When they were alone Elgin said to
ils daughter:
"They may not hear us, my dear
!hild, but we have reason to fear that
hey will watch us. Therefore, cast
hat napkin over the door knob, that no
ipying eye may peep in."
Kate did as he desired, and Elgin
groaned with all a fond father's anguish
as he saw how much the handuffs
bound the arms that were wont to
le wound in loving embrace around his
leek.
"My angel girl," said he, as Kate reurned
to the bedside, "you perceive a
ittle food remains upon my dishes.
Sat, I b^g of you, that you may be
strengthened to hold out, even unto
leath, against that wicked man."
"You are sure the food is not
>oisoned, dear father?" asked Kate, as
she obeyed.
"I am, my poor child," said Elgin.
'And now that you have eaten, do not
ry aloud when I tell you a most joyful
hing."
Kate looked surprised. What could
ler pobr imprisoned father have to tell
ier that might be joyful.
"Yes, my child," said Elgin. "Now
vniir our r>1nco tr\ mw lino "
As she complied, he whispered:
"James Green is alive! Wait! He i
las escaped from the well, and i? now
n this chimney!"
Kate stared at her father, terrified
est his troubles had made him insane.
"I speak the truth, my child," said
Slgin. "Sit there on the bed, and lean
orward so as to place your face in
h$ opening above the grate. So. Now
:all his name. Do not fear?the sound
rill go upward."
"James!" cried Kate, in a loud
whisper.
"My dear Kate! Are you there!" was
tie aubwer sue received. iteacn your
land?ah! I forgot. The villain has
landcuffed you. But be of good cheer.
shall escape. Perhaps not before
nany hours. But be firm and baffle
he rascal as long as you can."
"You have heard all he said to us?" I
isked Kate.
"Every word," said Greene. "And
low farewell for a time. Nancy
larker will soon return."
"May heaven work with you, dear,
[ear James," said Kate.
"Heaven has; heaven will, my Katy,"
;aid the stout-hearted young car- i
>enter.
Kate now withdrew from the grate, j
ind Elgin said:
"My dear Kate, should aid not reach
rou before night?I see it is day dawn
-try to gain as much time as you can.
win nsK ior time to renect, ana you
nust do the same. You said old Fan
vas the mother of this wicked couple.
Does she know it?"
To be continued.
"An American Ocean."
I close, then, by the assertion that at
east one of the great problems of tha
Pacific, that of commerce, has been
solved, and solved in favor of the Unl:ed
States. In the exchange of mutullly
necessary commodities, in length
)f frontage upon the ocean, in harbors,
n way stations for vessels and cables,
n advantageous points for distribution
ind concentration of trade, and even in
:he currents of air and water which nature
has given, the conditions favor the
United States. Indeed, when we consider
all these things, we might almost
claim the Pacific as essentially our
dttd. Stretching along its eastern
coast from the tropics to the Arctics,
:hence across its northern borders, then
for more than a thousand miles on its
crestern shore, in the Samoan group on
the south, and in a line of islands
across its very centre, the American
flag floats, and will continue to float,
and by its presence, its ennobling purposes
and its power for civilization and
advancement it proclaims, and will
continue to proclaim that the Pacific
S, ail(l Will reinmu, uu .iu;ei~ii-uu utcau,
?O. P. Austin, in the National Geographic
Magazine.
An Esquimaux Arrow.
An Esquimau arrow cf walrus ivory,
found imbedded in the breast of a
healthy Canadian gray goose shot near
Spokane, is on view in a store in that
city. No arrow of that sort was ever
seen in Spokane before. The bird had
evidently carried it thousands upon 1
thousands of miles from the Far North, j
where it was shot by some Esquimau. I
You can always tell a young fellow
who hap just graduated from college,
but you can't tell him much.
| A SERMON FOR SUNDAY
A BKILLIAN I MIS) I UlflUAL U/bUUUrlbt
ON THE REFORMATION.
The Rev. J. r. Wilson Talk* Instructively
of That Period When tbe Foundatloni
of Trne Religion* Liberty Were LaidFreetng;
the Mind From Tliralldoin.
New York City.?In the South CongTe
Rational Church, Brooklyn, the Rev. J. C
Wilson, associate pastor, delivered a dis
course on "The Struggle for Religious Lib
erty," the subject being "Europe on th<
Eve of the Reformation." The text ivai
Acts v., 38 and 39: "And now I say nnt<
you, Refrain from these men, and let then
alone; for if this counsel or this work b
of men, it will come to naught, but it it b<
of God, ye cannot overthrow it; lest hapl;
ye be found even to light against Goa.'
Mr. Wilson said:
Let me suggest at the outset that th<
struggle for religious liberty and what i
known as the Reformation are not in al
respects identical movements. The Reior
mation wa6 a great tidal wave which swep
over Europe in the sixteenth century, ou
of the vast and troubled sea of the centur
ies whose waters were greatly agitated b;
the struggle for religious lioerty. It wai
the culmination of that struggle. It assert
ed the fundamental principles upon whicl
it had proceeded, and succeeded in layinj
broad and secure foundations upon -whicl
true religious liberty could be built, but i
.left some of the higher standards and fine:
ideals unattained. In that respect there ii
much yet to be desired.
In view of the fact that the Reformatio]
split Europe into two great warring relig
ious camps, it is necessary to remind our
selves that up to that time there had beei
but one Christian church in Western Eu
rope. And the - iruggle for religious libertj
went on within that church and not out
side of it, nor against it, after the lirs
three centuries. Whatever glory and what
ever shame attaches to that church durinj
the first fifteen centuries is shared equalli
bv us all. Protestants and Roman Catholii
alike. The Reformation itself originate<
within the Roman Catholic Church, ant
was led by men bred in her schools ant
cloisters. We should also remember tha
the Roman Catholic Church of the fifteenti
and sixteenth centuries is not the Romai
Catholic Church of the twentieth centur]
and in the United States.
Froci a very early age religious differ
ences have engendered strife and stirre<
the most violent passions of men. Althougi
the Jews tasted the bitterness of persecu
tion, that did not prevent them fron
pressing the same cup to the lips of tb
> early Christians and, with the aid of th
Romans, making them drink it to its dregs
Then were written the first pages in thi
most sanguinary and thrilling story?i
story of unutterable suffering and grim en
durance for conscience sake?which his
tory's pages record. It can scarcely b
called a struggle. It iyas as impossible foi
the obscure and defenseless sufferers to re
eist their enemies as for a fly to resist thi
hand that crushes it. Judgecl from appear
ances, it was a remorseless massacre, whicl
cr.ushed its victims into the earth. But th<
real forces that were working out the prob
lem were not on the surface. The odd!
against which the early Christians weri
matched drove them to "seek refuge in thi
mountain fastnesses arid in the subterra
nean caverns, known as catacombs. Heri
they cherished their faith and worship un
til the violence of their enemies abated
After two centuries they came forth fron
their hiding places, disciplined by hard
ship, trained to prudence and foresight bi
the peril in which they had lived ana witi
a compact and efficient organization. Theii
leaders had improved their long seclusioi
to cultivate letters and arts, and soon tool
leading places among scholars and men o:
affairs; so that when Constantine succeed
ed to the undivided possession of suprem<
power in the Roman Empire prudence, i;
not preference, moved him to an allianc<
with them.
Then began a new phase in the strug^h
for religious liberty. The despised am
persecuted Christians., now risen to place!
of power and possessing the throne in th<
person of the Emperor, did not abuse theii
trust. Such was the spirit of sweet rea
sonableness which animated them that th<
first Christian Emperor issued an edict o
religious toleration, known as the edict o
Milan, which granted religious liberty with
in the empire, on the basis of the sacrec
rights of conscience; only those' religioui
rites were prohibited which involved im
morality, magic or sorcery. Not until thi
fatal passion for power had been aroused ir
them by its possession did the Christians
resort to persecution. The organization o
the Christian church kept pace with iti
spread in Europe. From Rome as a centri
the missionaries penetrated to all parts o
Europe. They carried with them the Jovi
of the mother church from which thej
went and bound the churches which thej
planted to her in gratitude and Christiai
fellowship. The confidence and affectior
which she won by her generosity and self
sacrifice in the eosnel. she soon came to de
mand as her right, and when at length th<
Bishop of Rome secured the political pow
er of nis city he aspired to make the tradi
tional capital of the world its ecclesiastica
capital also, then, with the policy of mili
tary Rome the Christian church adopted
also, the ambitious and relentless spirit o
the Caesars. Ecclesiastical Rome usurpec
the rights of mankind and perverted tneii
liberties as ruthlessly as did political Rome
1'nrough successive stages the churcl
mounted to the throne of its power unti
it was more absolute than thejempire hat
ever essayed to be. Men like Gregory th(
Great, Leo III. and Hildebrand made th<
most astonishing claims, and absolute su
premacy in all human affairs, and treatei
with the utmost severity all who withstoot
their claims. Unavailing protests to theii
astounding pretensions were raised by mer
like John Scotus, Abelard Arnold, of Bres
cia and Wickliff, and in the humbler walk'
of life opposition showed itself in sue!
Beets as the Albigenses and the Waldenses
--- i-i r ?j?;?j
UCJtiiur ui w u it: 11 ucsircu uu ocpaiaic luciu
selves from the Catholic. Church, but botl
of them desired that its pretensions shoulc
be moderated and its abuses reformed ac
cording to the scriptural requirements o:
apostolic simplicity and purity. These met
were simple minded and their lives wen
pure, but they were subjected to the mosl
remorseless persecution. Their heroic en
durance and unfaltering faith has coverec
their memory with a halo of glory like untt
that which surrounds the early Christiar
martyrs. During the massacre of the Albi
genses was born the order of the Domini
cans, into whose hands was intrusted th<
institution known as the Inquisition, th(
most diabolical engine of intolerance anc
persecution that human ingenuity ever de
vised.
It is the fate of all despotisms to worl<
their own destruction by a fatal disregart
of the limits of human endurance, anc
when the papacy added the horrors of th?
Inquisition to the usurpation of the mosl
sacred of human rights, and aggravated hei
offenses by the flagrant immorality of the
clergy, she transcended her limits and in
voked the long slumbering and accumu
lated wrath of centuries, which burst forth
in the Reformation, disrupted her solid
empire, and caused her the loss of two
thirds of her spiritual children.
Two great movements in the Middle Age1contributed
to hasten the triumph of re
ligious liberty in Europe. They were the
Crusades and the Renaissance. The relipious
enthusiasm of Europe, dormant foi
centuries, was kindled by the fiery eloquence
of Peter the Hermit, as he preached
a crusade against the '"infidel Turks," foi
the purpose of rescuing the Holy Sepulchei
from their hands. It was as when a door
is suddenly opened into a house where a
fire has been long smoldering, smothered
in its own smoke, the whole building is
wrapped in a sudden conflagration; or as
when a volcano long extinct bursts into
sudden activity. A spontaneous uprising,
as of one man, unparalleled in history,
took place among all classes of peopie.
Kings and peasants, priests and lawyers,
merchants and bankers were swept by the
same mighty impulse and fired by the same
zeal, which for the time burned alike in
every breast and submerged calculations
and self-interest. All alike were moved to
venture life and fortune in the hn!v miu
During the space of 200 years seven upheavals
of the population took place known
as the Crusades, five of them prodigious
and two of them only relatively lesser, all
of them mighty. Before the frenzy kindled
by Peter the Hermit died out immense
treasure was squandered, multitudes
of lives were ?pcrificed and apparently
nothing accomplished; total :u:d disastrous
failure seemed \o attend it a'!.
Hut here apain we ur? mistaken *!f we
iudge li.v apprimin'.-es. For ait hough the
Crusaders wiistened tue plains cf Asia Mi
?
nor with their bones and dyed the era??
of Northern Africa with their blood without
achieving any permanent results in
either Asia or Africa, their exodus from
Europe and their return to tbeir former
homes were attended by consequancea in
Europe far greater than would nave been
the conquest of all the Kast and the rescue
f of the relies of all the saints. In the first
i place they had broken the power of the
- Saracens bv successive impacts upon .hem,
by prolonged conflict with them.
Thev had fought fire with tire. Religious
" fanaticism was matched against religious
fanaticism, and it inflicted such punish*
ment upon the rapacious and cruel Mu?sul*
* man that he has never been able to rally
5 from it. Although he reached the shores
3 of Europe later on. he was exhausted with
3 the struggle, and has continued in a state
1 of languishing impotencv ever since. In
e the second place the "Crusadcj had a
- marked and lasting effect upon the C,ruVt
saders themselves, end in spite of tbeir
suffering and losses the gain was greater
than the loss, for it brought them into di*
rect and immediate contact with the
s East, at that time the cultivated find re*
1 fined portion of the world. Constant'mo*
pie and Antiocb, the tTN great storehouses
t of ancient art and learning, and the cen*
t tres of the wealth and culture of the East,
had become laminar to tnem. Antiocn
F was for a time in their hands. The spien9
did buildings, fine fabrics, beautiful stat
ues, costly gems, were a revelation to the
i Crusaders, and served as object lessons,
? while the elegant refinements, splendid
1 courtesy, magnificent manners and ancient
t learning of the East ,were not -without their
r effect upon the coarse, nude and untamed
3 barbarians of the West. Those who survived
the conflict returned with new ideas
1 of the character of the world in which they
lived, of the meaning of civilization, of the
possibilities of humanitv, and of the de3
fects of Europe. They had been to school
and had traveled. Their view of life had
V been broadened and their minds enriched
' by contact with superior conditions of iife.
t and a great mental and moral revolution
- had been wrought in ther".
S But the Crusades had also an immediate
T and lasting effect UDon Europe itself. For
t' bv enlisting in the Crusades the serf bought
j his freedom from the soil. The debtor was
| freed from his creditor. He that went out
i a slave came back a free man with gold
t coin in his pocket and some new ideas of
i the world in his head. Serfdom, villainage
1 and slaverv were practically abolished in
f Europe. The cities also had been able, by
immense sums of money paid to the hered;
itary princes, who held lordship over them,
i to buy their freedom and secure charters
* for themselves which made them independ*
ent in the control of petty rulers, and by
1 the lone absence of the nobles in the East,
e the middle classes had learned to adminise
ter their own affairs, and so the backbone
* of the feudal system was broken and the
e neriod of freedom and enlightenment came
a in. Modern industrialism was inaugurated.
* New ideas sprang un and a redistribution
!* of wealth and privileges took place, toe
gether with a new sense of their own place
r in the world and new wants and arabi"
tions in the common people. The imme5
diate results to Europe of the Crusadea
* were incalculable. A new spirit of human1
ity and of enterprise, of hone and of am?
bition had sprung up. and the death war*
rant was signed of the ancient regime of
ignorance, superstition and terror which
i had reigned for a thousand years.
5 The second great movement that hast'
ened the final conflict for religious liberty
I was the Renaissance or revival of learning
in Europe which followed UDon the taking
* of Constantinople by the Turks in 1153.
1 That was a momentous event for Western
* Europe. It sent hundreds of Greek scbolf
ars and literatti to find refuse in the West.
1 The learninz and the MSS. which they
r brought with them created a great stir.
1 Schools, academies and universities sprang
E up everywhere, and the church ceased to
1 be the "sole custodian of knowledge. It
" was as a part of that movement mac me
? Universitv of Wittenberg was established
1 bv the Elector of Saxony, to which one
Martin Luther came in 1508 as preacher
and professor of theology. A spirit of in
nuirv wa9 awakened, investigations were >
1 instituted, and historical and scientific
3 studies were taken up in real earnest. The
2 cold and lifeless formalism that had charr
acterized the logic of the school men disappeared.
The study of the Greek and Roj.
man classics became a passion. Princes
* and potentates vied with each other in se1
curing eminent scholars and elegant literatti
to adorn their courts, and the rich
J and the great became the profuse patrons
3 of learning, and soared no pains and no
" expense in collecting MSS. and creating
' ?J Tho
nrtrnries anu kuhuuib m i?uu.i.(, ??
| minds of men already liberated from their
' ancient thralldom by the Crusades were
f quickened and enlightened by the new
f learning which soon spread among all i
? classes of the peopJ*
J In addition to these great movements
; find perhaps as a consequence of them was
[ the spirit of adventure which now broke
'* out simultaneously in Italy and Spain,
1 France and England. Germany and Hoi1
land. Inspired by Columbus, a native of
* Genoa. Ttaly. hundreds of adventurers,
braved the perils of the untraversed seas
2 in search of new lands, or new passages to
the East. New continents were discovered
' and the globe was circumnavigated. In1
vention also was auickened, printing by
movable types and the manufacture of
: paper from rags had but recently been inj
vented. The mariner's compass came into
1 general use in navigation. The telescope
r was invented and the heavens explored for
new worids, as the goas for new lands.
| The whole period was one of unpreeedentI
ed mental activity and ferment. Coperni*
j cus, by his new system of astronomy, and
; Kepler, by his laws, were soon revolution
izing astronomy. All of these '.hings had
" their effects upon the minds of men. The j
? * J ? C i! |
j discovery 01 tne size anasrwpe ui mc nnu,
' of its relation to other bodies in space: of
r the immense distances in the heavens and
1 the vast systems of worlds in space; the
changes of men's ideas as to the centre of
? the universe and the revelation that it was
1 not the earth, but that the earth was only
> an insignificant member of a system whose
" centre was the sun; all served to teach
! men the uncertainty and instability of
1 things they had been accustomed to regard
I as established beyond the peradventure of
' doubt, and led them to expect and preJ
pared them to receive changes in other
' spheres of thought and realms 1* life. A
c spirit of skepticism became general and in[
vaded even the church, and everything
1 seemed to converge upon and conspire to1
ward a single point, until nothing could
1 withstand the conjunction of forces which
[ worked to free the human mind from bond[
age and the human spirit from tbralldom.
; Suffice it to say in closing that the greatj
est blessings we now possess, the sanctity
| of our homes, our personal security and
ri'nlif fn rnnl'P tllP mOSt
of ourselves, has been secured to us as the
j result of that world-long struggle for religious
liberty. The freedom of the press,
t the right of every man to worship God in
; his own way. the democratic principles of
; government, the right of a man as such,
> regardless of his place or position in the
[ social scale or of his worldly possessions,
and the demand for absolute justice for all
' men. equallv irrespective of race, sex or
condition of life?these and many of the
great princinles now taking front rank
among the objects devotedly to be sought
, in tlie twentieth century have been made
| possible to us by the Reformation. ]
Beginning with the struggle for religious <
liberty, it ran on to compass the liberty of
the whole man and was destined not to i
stop until he wyi every whit free. It has i
r?l~oo fU/s 1iV?orrv of POI1- ]
science, the right of private judgment, po,
litical and personal freedom. But the end
, is not vet, and what it shall be no man
knoweth. But as great and good men as
ever fought in any cause fight still in these
, ranks, which are constantly increasing in
| numbers, in power and in resoluteness.
Be Cheerful,
By endSring a hardship cheerfully, or by
accepting discomfort without a murmur, (
we may be of more real service to our fel- j
lows than by performing acts of ministry a
while wc appear to begrudge the required jeffort,
or while we ourselves are in an un- c
loving mood. The way in which we do our f
most generous deeds is sometimes of as 0
much importance as the deeds themselves. e
Many a cb'!d or man has been made more j
glad by tue pleasant looks and words of v
one who had to refuse a requested favor e
than by the reception of a desired favor
from one who gave it with a sneer or a
frown. The importance of the right way
of'doing good, in the line of giving or of
withholding, should not be forgotten or undtrval;
oil. CharJe* Burrton says, in this I
L'i.t. "Von h:sv?_ not fu!;i!!ed every duty
im'c'ifS ysui have fuliilled the duty of being h
I j?'ta-i-.i:t." How dees that apply to our j "
J seivict ol to-day?
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL
i
INTERNATIONAL LESS< >N COMMENTS
FOR JULY 12
Subject: Saul Chosen Kiiijr, 1 Sam. x? IT
87?Golden Text, Its. ixxlll., 22?Memory
Verses, 34, 25?Rcjad Chapters Jx~
x.?Commentary on tt e Day's Lesson.
I. Samuel's introductoiy discourse (vs.
17-19). 17. "Samuel." In this lesson th<
prophet-judge appears in a unique attitude
as one who assists in the : evolution which
is to take from himself th< supreme powei
and bestow it upon anot ler. What unselfish
and noble conduct! Though evidently
much pained, yet, 4t the command
of God, he sank all personal feelings and
set himself to the work of finding the best
man for a king. And after Saul was chosen
Samuel proved his best and most faithful
friend and adviser. Most men would have
wished the experiment to fail: Samuel did
his best to make it successful. "Called
the people." The assembly was evidently
partly represents tive, made up of elders
and heads of tribes; and partly popular,
many of the people being present, encamped,
and to some extent armed. "Unto
the Lord." This expression does not necessarily
imply that the ark was present.
Samuel publicly invokes the Divine presence
ana blessing and has everything done
as in the presence of Jehovah. "To Mizpeh."
The location is uncertain, but is
supposed to be a high hill not far from
Ramah, Samuel's home. Several other important
meetings were held at Mizpeh.
18. "And said." Samuel first points out
to the assembled people that Jehovah had
always done for them the very thing for
which they desired a king. He haa delivered
them from all kingdoms that had
oppressed them. But this deliverance had
been made to depend upon their own conduct;
they were always reauired to repent
of sin and purge the laria from idolatry
before victory could be theirs. What
they wanted now was national independence,
freed from this condition, and secured
by an organization of their military
resources. Samuel's discourse sets before
them in a vigorous style the mighty deeds
which God had done for them.
19. "Rejected." Samuel charged them
with ingratitude and unfaithfulness, as
expressed in the demand for a king. God.
in the character of a king, had governed
the Israelites for 400 years. He ruled
on terms which He Himself, through the
agency of Moses, had proposed to them,
viz., that if they observed their allegiance
to Him, they should be prosperous: if not
adversity and misery shoula be tne consequence.
We learn from the whole book
of JudgeB. and from the first eight chapters
of Samuel, how exactly the result,
from Joshua to Samuel, agreed with these
conditions. God had always faithfully
kept the promises made them. "Set a
king." Their fault consisted not in the
simple desire for a king, but in the contempt
they manifested for Jehovah. They
were not satisfied with God, but desired
a visible king, clothed in purple robes,
with his guards and officers, who should
rule with great pomp like the nations
around them. "Present yourselves." Arrange
yourselves in systematic order for
the casting of the lot. "By your tribes."
Represented bv twelve princes. "Your
thousands." This means the same as families.
The number of heads of houses in
the several families of a tribe might easily
V - il. J c 1 r\ao tr.
reilCU U luuueauu. uumuui nuvn lui I^vv,
ishnesa of that people, and that there were
those who would not be satisfied with the
choice, if it depended on hia single testimony,
but bv this method the people would
see that God had appointed Saul, for "the
disposal of the lot was with the Lord."
This would prevent disputes.
II. Saul chosen king (vs. 20, 21). 20.
21. "Benjamin was taken " We are not
told expressly by what process the selection
was made, but it was probably by
casting lots, 'ihe lot was in common use
among all nations of antiquity. It is regarded
in Scripture, not as a chance decision,
but as a legitimate method of'ascertaining
the Divine will. The lot among
the tribes fell on the tribe of Benjamin
which was the smallest of the tribes.
"Family of Matri." The heads of the tribe
of Benjamin next appeared and the family
of Matri was taken. The successive Bteps
are then passed over. At last Saul of the
household of Kish was taken. "Could not
be found." "He withdrew in hopes they
would proceed to a new election, we may
suppose that at this time he was really
averse to taking upon himself the government,
because, J. He was conscious of unfitness
for so great a trust. 2. It would
expose him to the envy of his neighbors.
3. He understood that the people had
sinned in asking a king. 4. The affairs of
Israel were at this time in a bad condition."
III. Saul declared king (vs. 22-27). 22.
23. "Is there yet a man. They inquired
whether Saul was present or was to be
sought for elsewhere. "Among the stuff."
The baggage which was usually placed in
the centre of the camp. "Ran, etc." There
appears to be have oeen much haste and
excitement. "Higher than any." Saul was
tall and commanding in person. It is supEosed
that he was at least seven feet in
eight. It was an age when leaders stood
in the forefront of the battle, and a giant
would strike terror to his foes.
2?. 25. "See ye him." Saul's distinguished
stature and great strength helped
much to recommend him to the people.
There was none like him in majesty of appearance,
and he became popular instantly.
'The Lord hath chosen. But God had,
in this, yielded to their demands against
His own will and wisdom. "Manner of
the kingdom." The constitution -uu mwa
of the new government, with the respective
duties of king and people towards each
other and towards God. _ ''Wrote it." j
"That is, the charter of this constitutional
monarchy was recorded and deposited in
the custody of the priests, along with the
most sacred records of the nation."
26, 27. "Saul?went home." To his fa- I
ther's hause. Saul modestly left the pub- I
lie affairs for Samuel to manage, is he had
been doing. There appeared no peat desire
to rule, in Saul. Such a humble spirit"
as this, when he was advanced to 6uch
a hieh position, appears beautiful. He was
humble, for Goa waa with him then.
"Went with him." Not the whole company,
but a few select friends, perhaps, or
those who regarded it a conscientious duty
to escort their new king to his home.
"Hearts?touched." Such as were move? j
by him to do their duty and recognize the
authority of Saul. These were the subjects
who would help to have a peaceable
reign, and would be loyal subjects. "Chil- I
dren of Belial." Those who were wicked,
profligate and not disposed to be controlled.
"Despised him." Did not recognize
him, but only scorned his manner,
and doubted his ability. "No presents."
They gave no proofs that they acknowledged
either the Divine appointment, or
his authority. "Held its peace." Having
no ambition for the position, he quietly
submits to their offense, and thus prevents
all occasion for uproars. So far from resenting
this affront Saul seems not to
notice it.
A New Sjpri Lamp.
A new iclea in that well-worked-over-field
?the electric sign lamp?has made its appearance
under the name of "bvlo." The
distinguishing feature of this lamt> is that
irhile the sign is constantly flashing to
attract attention the letters are ahravs
readable. The si?n is never dark. Each
lamp ha? a double filament of one candle
power and tne otner is a oijj nianient 01
sight or sixteen candle power. The flashing
mechanism is all contained within a
amp base of the usual size. The advantage
>f c fl&ehing sign can tlr.is be secured with>ut
the expense of complicating wiring and
l commutatinz device.
Ralna or tireat City in Mexico.
The ruins of a large city have been dissovered
in a remote ]iart of the State of
i^uebla, Mexico, by tranciseo Rodriguez,
in archaeologist, who has just made a re>ort
of his find to the Government. The
ity contains large pyramids and extensive
ortifications. It is situated in the midst
>f a dense forest, and a large amount of
xcavation will be necessary to learn its
rue extern anu impun?ii?. tuuiun>siun
rill be appointed by the Government to
splore the ruins.
An English Idol Factory,
There is an idol factorv in Birmingham.
!n<?land, which exports huge_quantities of
Jols to Japan. China and Korea. Many
lundreds of tons of metal are every year
rorked into deities in this factory.
. :,< :* ^
m '
THE BELIGIOUS LIFE
READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR ;
WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF.'
t
* * -<r0
Foem: In God'i SMpIng?WtiJ ZaccheUt
Wm Truly Bleiied -Ha ( One of thfi
Few Persons of Whose Salvation Positive
Affirmation Is Made.
\ I see not a step before me ir?,
1 As I approacn another year;
I But the past is in God's keeping,
I The future His mercy shall clear,
And what looks dark in the distance
May brighten as I draw near.
y What Zaccheas's Story Teaches.
! ' If one of our politicians whose shady in:
tegrity is an open Becret should one da.J
happen to go abroad where some follower*
of Jesus were holding an open-air service,
and should idly stop and listen, and there
in the press of the crowd should come face
| to face with the Master, and should hear
pith startled surprise the voice of hi*
' Lord speaking to him alone out of all that ' ,
j crowd?as many a heart does to-day feel
the Lord's call?and should answer Him #
J A???n -r %- ?
: mm a ffutu tunu 01 joyrui welcome, ana
i should come down surprised and willing
| from his tree of curiosity to the actual
taking of Jesus into his home and life, he
: would be confronted with much such a
problem as Zaccheus had to face.
I In the first place, Zaocheus's business wa?
against him. He was a publican. And a
; tax collector in those days was as shrewd
and unscrupulous as any city ring. Districts
were farmed out or sola to tne highest
bidder, and everything that could be
collected above the required amount for
the government went into the pocket of
the tax collector. The temptation, therefore,
to extortion was almost irresistible.
! All appeals had to be made to the Roman'
I courts. The publicans had the backing of. !
the government. Circumstances laid a bari
rier wide and high across the path of honi
T^heft the standard of right and wrong in
his business world was lamentably low.
I If a publican cheated a man he quieted his
! conscience by assuring himself that it wa?
I .11 4_ .1 - -c v?; nr. 1.-1?J
; on iu biic vvo) ui uuomcBD. TTC arc ncipeu
i or hindered more than we know by the
i moral atmosphere that we breathe. It it
| & tearfully hard thing for a man to be good
: when he knows that everybody sets aim
down as a rascal. Zaccheus had no repn*
tation to sustain. He was not expected to
be a good man, an honest man or a
i Christian.'
| Yet Zaccheus had heard the Saviour**
i call and his own heart war. set vibrating
with an answering welcome. The clear
light of the eyes of the only Perfect Mux
shone into his, and he saw his own life in
all its deformity of sin. Instantly a new
honesty is born within him. He does not
hasten into his rooms ahead of the Master
to hide ajl traces of his business, homing .
thus to escape censure for his wrongdoing,but
at the very threshold, before the Lord
1 enters, he confesses his own shaky character
and at once promises a new order of
things. Zaccheus's surrender of himself
is entire. He withholds no corner of hi? ^,
heart for himself and his future occupation.
It is all given up to his new guest.
And it is not only "to-day" one feels sure
that Jesus abode with Zaccheus, but all
the rest of the days of his life.
T1 J ?A.
I -L iicic aic uicu anil >v urncu ivua/ w
whom Jesus offers His friendship jut as
freely as He offered it to Zaccneua that
day?braving public opinion which said
that a Jew should not visit nos eat with .
a publican and sinner?to whom He would
come as freely, but they have not Zac- -'!
cheus's answering chord of welcome . in
their hearts when they hear the unexpected
call. Some of them are afraid to get
up into the sycamore tree even for fcuri- osity'a
sake, lest they will be laughed, at. .is
Zaccheus was seeking Jesus just oat Of
j curiosity, to see what He was like, bat even
so much of a turning toward Him ' ;'M
| God honors. Jesus met this seeking by '-|?
looking straight up into his face ana of- M
I fering him a personal friendship. It is '
but another proof of the promise, "If ye ;
seek Him He will be found of thee." ";MH
There is something for usito note here,
j if we arc trying to walk in Jesus's foot*
| steps and win back some soul to Him?- ?
j Jesus offered the man His friendship at -.jW
once, rich and full and free. He did- not
| speak of his sin, but said, "Come down> JiSfor
I am eoine home with yon." .
"To ray house? - What! Me, a 6inner!"
might any Zaccheus exclaim. "Yea," yon,
if you will have Him.
If Zaccheus had been sick I presume-.'a
there were those among his Jewish friends, <:'Ja
even among his Pharisee neighbors, who' #jja
would have gone for the doctor. If he had ji*|
been a beggar they would have thrown
him some money or some food., But gone
to his house, not much! They would not
have lost an opportunity to talk to bin*
about his sin, but they would have had'
! nothing to do with him. We sometimes
| make that mistake. We try to reach the. yi
sinner before we recognize the man. And'
one touch of Jeeus's hand opened the man'#'
heart and made him eager *to put away
his sin. Mark this: It was before Zaccheus
made any offer of restitution that Jesus
told him He would go home with him.
Zaccheus is one of the few persons of
whose salvation positive affirmation is
made. "This day is salvation come to this
house." That Was Zaccheus's blessing.
This lesson throbs with the meaning of r j
Christ's lifework. to seek and save the lost.
They must be saved, for Jesus lovea ' . j
them.?Grace Livingston Hill, in the New.
York Mail and Express.
Dotnr More Than ! KxomM of Us. f'
Christ laid on Hie followers the duty of
doing mbre than their share. He took upon
Himpelf the same duty. He alwaya JL
went more than half wav to meet a soul V"
that would meet Him. We are too apt to
think we are doing well if we consent to M
do our share: the Christian spirit is a t.
readiness to do all we can, even if it ia
more than our share. If a man wonld
have us go with him a mile, go with him '
twain; if our share would be to give hin
our coat in his day of great need, give him ,
our cloak also. That is what Christ set -m
forth as the divine sDirit. In the same
manner, the Apbstle Paul wrote, saying:'
"Unto him that is able to do exceeding
abundantly above all that we ask or thin^, J
. . . unto him be thejrlory in the church ?
and in Christ Jesus." That is the way we . .1
have been ministered unto?good measure, J
pressed down and running over. So let n?
minister unto others.
Be Sincere With God.
God enjoys flattery as little as men do.
The Psalmist laid that truth on our heart?
when he said, "Sing ye praises with understanding."
We despise folks who are
smootn ana pleasant to our iace ana wen
say bitter things behind our back._ W? I
dislike their praise even, because it is in
sincere. But -what else is it when we
praise Qod loudly in the church, and are
grumblers in our home or business? It i?
good to make a joyful noise unto the Lord;
But it is necessary, if we do that, that we ?
also live a joyful life before the Lord. jfe'
Faith Isliiinitleat. . a ?
My faith is that there is a far greattt ?
amount of revelation given to guide eaca V
man by the principles laid down in the
Bible, by conscience and by providence, J
than most men are aware of. It is not the .
light which i? defective, it is an eye to see
it.?Norman Macleod. \ 1
The Most Pernldooa Influence.
A bad man can do an immense amount
of harm by simply doint bad things. A bad
man, with bad motives, doing what seems
to be good, is the most pernicious and degrading
influeno; that I know of.?The
j.vev. R. L. Paddock.
The Ti?d Sea in Central Africa.
French explorers report that the Tsad
Sea in Central Africa, of which very little .
has been known thus far. is about 240 |
miles in length and about eighty-two miles I
in width. The lake is not very deep: to j
the west about twenty-eight feet, and to I
the east scarcely six feet. There are about 8
eighty small islands in the lake which are I
inKtWt.J ???? CXI flAA naKl'M r
"*uwi.'HVU VJ OVU1C */VjWV - - T . r
No Termination Ialand. Jj
The Gauss expedition to the Antarctic .m
has dispelled the tradition about the exist- jf
ence of Termination Island. The Gauss II
passed over the alleged site of the island.
The greatest cold experienced was seventy- Hj
six degrees below zero, Fahrenheit.
H