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fl LUKE H~ || THE I | 11 By Prof. Wm. Henry P< m r Author of the "T5e Stone-Cutt< fi I , of Lisbon," Etc. CHAPTER XXVII. Continued. "I know such a man,'' replied Hamtnond. "Tlien may heaven help me!" said Kate, bitterly. "Heaven will not; and so I leave you for a time," said Luke, as he left his prisoner and locked the door after him. He found Nancy pacing the hall. "Has Stephen returned''" be asked. "I thought I heard his voice." ' Ua uroe hnro a mnmcnt fljrn." said Nancy, "and told me tliese letters were for you." Haznmond took the letters she held from her hand. "Duns! nothing but duns!" said he. "I do not -wish to see Henry Elgin until the last moment. Rouse Daniel and put him on guard. Let Stephen sleep until night. I -will go read these letters!" "But the body?our mother's body?" "We -will attend to that to-morrow. You had better lie down when Daniel comes. Or first let Stephen bring me some refreshment to my library?I feel faint. 'Tis a great pity our cook has left us just at this time. I must have 6ome sleep, also. I shall be awake all night." So saying he departed, while Nancy followed him to fulfill his orders. Leaving them for a time, let us enter the crimson chamber. Since we were there James Greene had worked steadily. Once he had de cended to hold a short conversation with Henry Elgin, and to receive food and drink. Then he had returned to bis labor. At first hie nrncrPKfi was fpnrfllllv I slow, for the ironwork was deeply imbedded in the masonry, and bp was nearly two hours in removing that great obstacle. Next he encountered a bend in the flue, and to pass it cost k him two hours more. It was 2 o'clock In the afternoon when he reached a place where, by looking up. he could see the clear blue sk^. | "Thank God for that sight," said | Greene, as he ga^ed upon the little I patch of heaven that was visibie. "I L have still ten feet to ascend." Ik It was very hard work, and he proW gressed at the rate of little more than W one foot an hour. But he was pro' gressing, and he felt that in time he would be free. T?l?in Iwlnw Ar? lnic Vin/1 in flio nrim. son chamber, "was hopeful and vigilant and -whenever he paused in his listening it was to pray. To him the noise of the bricks as they fell seemed like thunder rattling down the chimney, and every moment he thought he heard the rush of feet about the house search of the cause of the disturb"once. K.^te, in her prison, often imagined she heard the crash of falling bricks, and so she did, but it was from the demolishing of an old building not far off. A It was nearly dark when Greene K reached a place in the flue which enajfv . tiled him to breathe of the fresh air. "I am now above the level of the ?> roof," said he, "or I soon shall be. I must be more careful than ever, or I may topple down the chimney top and create such an alarm as to result in I' ray capture or destruction. The chimney above the roof may fall on me and rrush me, or in falling may carry me with it. I :im. in fart, in rrreater dan Ejer of sudden death than I have been Since I escaped from the well. And after I shall have gained the roof I may Jind it too far from the next house to leap -without breaking my limbs, or ?' ' Dfven my neck!" He resumed liis work, and as he did ?o his wedge slipped from his hand, jind he heard it clattering far below ihim. He was forced to descend and search for it More than an hour slipped by before he could find it among the bricks below. It was impossible for iiiira then to hold any conversation Kith Elgin, for the loose bricks had irhoked up the flue, and James Greene Bow worked under the fear that the Wound of Elgin's warning cry to pause might not penetrate the mass of rubtt?i6h his work had heaped up below Jkirn. He paused in 'terror lest Hammond *jight enter the crimson chamber and detect his presence in the chimney. "If he should." said Greene shudilering. "he will kindle a fire in the rrate and suffocate me! To escape in time to save Kate and her father I must work. But if I work I may only Lasten their rum." He looked up. Immediately above the opening of the chimney, in the deep, dark bosom of the sky, shone a i ^brilliant star. It was the star he and Kate Elgin had often admired, and in *heir courtship fondly named "the love's star." "It is a good omen," said Greene, full Dt newly kindled hope. "I will work and trust in heaven." He toiled on. Hours passed, and his Lead and shoulders were above the ichimney when he felt it tremble un!der his weight as he struggled to rise higher. "There is but one way," said he. "If .1 attempt to climb out the chimney frill certainly fall with me, and I shall be (killed. I must take off the bricks from the top and drop them back into the chimney until I can safely step forth upon the roof." Thie V.-nc n TVnrlr nf timn nn.l 1.^ I heard the distant clocks striking 11 before lie dared leave bis dangerous situation. "Tliank heaven! I am safe so far." I jaid Greene, as lie sat upon tlie roof to Recover breath and to enjoy for a brief moment the cool, refreshing air of night. v "More than two days," said ne. as he j^ized aroum' '"more than two days , ? \MMOND, j j mSKK. ! 3ck, 8 Copyright 1?36, | | | I by Eouket Eonneb'b Bone. fp (All rights reserved.) I M have passed since I entered this house, with my heart beating high with hope J and happiness. Through what perils have I not passed since then! But I ' have no time to think now; I must act. ; And first to escape from this roof." He then began to roam about the 1 steep and broad roof. "I am on the roof of the wing of the J house," said he. at length. "There is no house upon which I can jump from this roof. This roof is at least twelve feet below the roof of the main house. 1 If I wre on the latter i tninu x couiu enter the untenanted house beyond. I ] must try to go up this wall to the roof 1 above. But first let me see if I can 1 see anything below." He saw a light gleaming along the J raised borders of the skylight, which ' was the only window of the crimson 1 chamber. '< Greene had no suspicion that Henry 1 Elgin was in the room below the sky- ? light, or perhaps he would have looked 1 there sooner. He stole cautiously to ' the edge of the skylight and peered i through the glass into the room below. As the crimson chamber was always ! illumined at night by a jet of gas, 1 Greene had no difficulty in seeing what 1 was going on. < "Great heaven!" said he, "this is < Henry Elgin's prison, and that must be be on the bed, but how fearfully 1 cmac'./ited! A mere skeleton! But t who is that just at the door? Ah, Mrs. ( TT ? ?T- OVIA o/iArvia 4hmut. 1 nursei, me wicivu. >ciic ncuii> wit.u>ening. I cannot hear -what she says, J but she shakes her finger angrily. Oh, i you -wretch of a woman, you shall suf- * t'er for this! Now?she loaves the s room?there! she has gone. I must let f Elgin know I have got out of the < chimney." { Greene rapped upon the glass and 1 Elgin looked up instantly. An expression of joy flashed over Elgin's ema- < ciated features as he saw Greene's '< face pressed dose to the glass. More 1 than a year had passed since Elgin 3 had seen Greene, and the latter's two ? days of toil and suffering had greatly alteVed him from the handsome, ? blithe-faced carpenter Elgin had 1 kuown. Yet Elgin knew it must be 1 Greene tapping at the glass, and -wish- * ing to communicate with him, but fear- i ing his voice could not reach him as i well as that it might alarm Hammond ^ he used the dumb alphabet on his 1 fingers, hoping Greene could under- 1 stand the silent language. Greene 1 did understand, and knew what Elgin i meant. 1 "Haste! Save my child! They are ? hrincin^ li#>v here druzcedi" Greene "was bold and active and he i resolved upon a course to pursue on the instant. As gently as possible he broke a pane of glass, and after pausing a moment to see if he made any alarm he said in a low but distinct tone: "Can you rise from your bed?" Elgin made a gesture of assent. For though Greene's voice might not be heard "without the room his would. "Are you strong enough to pull your bed immediately under the skylight?" said Greene. Elein rose with ease, for the occasion inspired him with strength, and as his l>?d was on rollers he pushed it readily where Greene desired. "If they remove the bed," said Greene, "I must run the risk of breaking a limb. But I find it will take me an hour to escape from this roof. We cannot spare the time. It is not more than twenty-five feet from this sky light to the floor, and your ted 'will break my fall." Elgin spoke with his fingers again*. 1 "You have no weapon. You will he ( overpowered." 1 "I have this heavy holt," said Greene. "It has been my friend thus far, and ' with it in ray hand I am ready to fight 1 a dozen counterfeit Hammonds, and as ] many other rascals. Sit in that chair J and hope." "Have you no weapons for me?" tel- I egraphed Elgin. "Walt!" said Greene, leaving the sky- * light. 1 I-Ie hastened to the demolished elnm- 1 ney. and using all his great strength, 1 wrenched off a prong of the lightning 1 rod, thus gaining an iron club a foot ' and a halt long and half an inch thick, 1 and tapering to a sharp point. He returned to the skylight and ' dropped the weapon through the broken pane. It fell upon Elgin's bed without noise, and Elgin hid it in his loose gown by folding his arms across his breast. I With the brave and active .voting J carpenter above him Henry Elgin sent-* t ed himself near the bed and waited for ] the coming of Hammond. < 1 CHAPTER XXVIII. i THE LAST WARNING. ; While James Greene was forcing his 1 way to the room Luke Hammond slept, < slept in his library chair and slept i well until Stephen awoke him at I) i o'clock at night. j "Ha! I have slept six hours," said i Hammond, after lighting the gas and ] glancing at the clock. "It was nearly j o when I closed my eyes. I fer-l amass- j incly refreshed. Now. Stephen, did ] you see Mr. Thomas Allday this morn- < ingV" < "Yes sir." said Stephen. "lie said j rail right!'" 1 "Very well." said Hammond. "Xow < <*n lfinl liim here. Conic l.?.v the pri- , vote entrance. You will bo gone an hour. Go." Stephen departed, and Hammond summoned Nancy Ilarker. "Nsiney," said he, Avhen she appeared. "I have had a fine sleep." "I am glad to hear it." said she. | "Did you dream of our father's face? ; I did, for I have slept, also." "No: not a dream of that kind." said Hammond. "But I had a dream which k was merely the result of what I was 1 thinking of when I fell asleep." "And what was that?" "I was thinking how strange it was that Catharine Elgin could have found | so secret a hiding place for that will in | the little time she had to seek for it. Now I have come to the conclusion that she hit upon some place liy aeeirtrrit Tim fact i?. I am unwillinc to remove Henry Elgin while that will I exists to ruin me." "We know the will is in the house." j said Nancy. "Burn the house, and so ; destroy the will. The value of this house is not much. It is old and can be spared." "Right. But while it burns hundreds of firemen will be running all over it. They might discover the will in dash- j Ing down the walls and tearing off the | framework. No. I must hunt once J more before proceeding to extremities. In thinking of all the probable, possi- i hie and impossible places in which Catharine Elgin may have hidden the j tvill I fell asleep thinking of that place J nnd dreamed the will was there." " 1 n'l TfVioro -rpne thntV" ncboil N.inpV. I "I will show you. Give me that hatchet and bring a lamp," said Hammond. They left the library, and Hammond halted at the newel-post at the foot of the stairs which led to the room where liis mother's body "was lying. "Nancy Harker," said he, "do you recollect how I fell here the night we sought for the will? This cap of the banister-post slipped off in my hand and made me fall. I was angry, for the fall hurt my face. I fastened the carved top-piece on the post, saying it svould hold until doomsday. Let us suppose doomsday has come and take t off." Nancy Harker looked on while he struck off the cap of the post. As ic fell he plunged his hand into the deep jollow. and shouted with .ioy as he Jrew forth the missing will and his )wn forged copy. "Now, then, by my life, I hare the natter in my own hands," cried he. as hey returned to his library. "James I Ureene is dead?I can easily erase his I lame wherever it appears in the will j ind insert Catharine Elgin's?keep my j narriago secret until all the estate j ;hall have been converted into gold?I ;ee Henry Elgin has appointed me her ruardian in this will, and with it I can lefy those country relatives of his who ire eternally checking me when I try n coll nnv nf flip nrnnprtv." "If you are appointed guardian of the ?state," said Nancy, "why marry her it all? The world will hoot at such a narriage?the law will break it?for rou dare not tell the world that you ire not Catharine Elgin's uncle." "If I had had this a few months sooner," said Hammond, "and been clothed ivith the powers it gives me, I would lave finished Henry Elgin, gained possession of the entire estate, and then, n case I had failed to make Catharine nv daughter-in-law, I would have fled vith the estate turned to gold. But low I love Catharine ElgiD?she shall je my wife! Even if I must die in the ittempt, I will go on. When Catbarne Elgin i6 my wife she will do just vhat I tell her to do. But until then V* a Tty 111 /vf t? m a " )UXZ ?Y111 UCAJ JLLIt. "Have you no fear of a woman's re engd?" asked Nancy. "There never lived but one woman I eared,'' said Hammond. "And your unfounded nonsense and dreaming? 'or you know I never dreamed of the ' varning from the grave until you j rexed me with your absurd stories? rour nonsense made me fear her. I nean Harriet Foss. If John Marks jas lied, she is dead, and as for my 'earing Catharine Elgin's revenge afer she is my wife?bah! The power >f a husband, such a husband as I j ;ball be, and have been, is a fate to the : vife, -Naiicy Harker." "And if John Marks has lied?" asked s'ancy. "He dies. He knows too much," said Inmmond. "But how can he lie when le has promised to show me her body? L'ou are pale. "What ails you?" "I don't know. I wish this was all >ver. I wish John Marks had not ap- j leared in New York," said Nancy. "Wish! What good will that do | rou.' crieu uammona, nercejy. "\ve jegan under circumstances of little | langer, but danger has increased i nouud us. Three dangers are crushed, j Fames Greene is dead, the genuine "will j s in nay hands, and old Fan is dead, j dso. If John Marks has told the truth j Harriet Foss is dead. Besides, both ' Elgin and Catharine are in my power." ' John Marks may betray you to the ; police," said Nancy. "John Marks will remain faithful be?ause he hopes to regain his son. I beieve that if his son had been ever near him?if John Marks had had something to love and cherish, somehing to take pride in, he would have ;rown as old as he is now unstained ay the taint of crime." "You believe, that, Luke HammondV said Nancy, eagerly. To be continued. A Mounter Topaz. An interesting story of a valuable opaz now in the possession of Signor | S'icola Carelli comes from Naples, says j :he Rome correspondent of the London i Leader. The topaz Avhich Signor Car>11L brought back from Bazil some rears ago is so large that it is said to ivcigh over two pounds. A Neapolitan irtist, seeing the stone, begged to be alowed to engrave the figure cf Christ in it in cameo. The work is now tinshed and Signor Carelli lias been lookng for a purchaser. The value of the i jewel is, however, so great that even i lie Tope himself, to whom it was of- . fered, could not afford to buy it. Tin- | >lly, says the Italie, a committee has j jeen formed in Vnples with the pur- i [lose of buying ihe jewel from its prcs- j /lit U?uci Uj (UU'IIV. nuiiiXiiiiuuu ?IUU j jffering it to I.eo XIII. as a jubilee J present, n is to be hoped, therefore, that this wonderfrl treasure will be seen by visitors to the Vatican Mu- I seum. Signor Carelli declares that' there is no other such stone in the j world. Economical Ore Method*. In the copper regions of th<? Great; Lakes ore containing oue and a half [>or cent, is worked without financial loss. No fewer than 587 languages are spoken In Europe. ' / A SERMON FOR SUNDAY AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED ,'COD'S TRAINING OF A WORKER." The Rev. Dr. O. F. Bartholow Shown the Evil Kfhalts Tltat Follow the Atrophy I Whi-ch Hrk Settled Over the Spirltua! I / Thinking of Our Time. New YonK City.?Dr. 0. F. Earth olow. pastor of Janes M. E. Church, preached Sunday morning on "God's Training of a Worker." His text was taken from lixofius, iv.: 3, 2. 3 and 4: "And Moses answered and said, But. behold, they would not believe me; nor hearken unto my voice; for they will say, The Lord hath not appeared unto thee. And the Lord said unto him, What is that in thine hand? And he eaid. A rod. And the Lord said, Cast it on the ground. And he cast it on the ground and it became a serpent; and Moses fled from before it. And the Lord said unto Moses, Put forth thine hand and take it by the tail. And he put forth his hand and caught it and it became a rod in his hand." Dr. Bartholow said: - Our text presents Moses in what many have considered an unfavorable light. Standing in the presence of the great God, the recipient of a glorious revelation and a divine command with promise, he appears hesitating, uncertain and weak. A study of the occasion and ground of Moses' reluctance dissipates the unfavorable licht and presents to us a study in human life under divine direction altogether true and .nnmmnnn Tlio /<nll rtf CJrtrf tfl MflSPfi "Wa>5 certain, clear and well attested. It camc to a man refined and schooled by abundant .experiences, to one who was more than familiar with human nature in its relation to spiritual truth. The shepherd of Midian knew how dull, apathetic and incredulous toward Jehovah and His truth the children of Israel bad become in their base servitude to the Egyotian Pharaoh. Foreseeing the cruel skepticism and the all but universal lethargy of his people. Moses was for the moment blind to God's knowledge and power. Under the spell of fear he uttered the words, "But, behold, they will not believe me, nor hearken unto my voice; for they will say, the Lord hath not appeared unto thee." To Christian faith this may appear weak, but it certainly is not unnatural. History affords us abundant illustrations of renrnn nlioro lioeifafinff lUlIUCia, U^lVSCS aau ..w. and trembling, not because they doubted. Godj but because they feared the reception God s truth would receive at the hands of His reputed friends. Jerome. Hubs, Luther, Wesley, Savonarola, etc., had but little to fear from the world, but much to fear from the church, and at times they trembled and were hesitant at the commands of God. (It takes grace to be wounded in the house of your friends). God's response to this tendency or impulse of Moses' nature is full of interest and suggestion. It is a divine encouragement to Christian daring and zeal. "And the Lord said unto him. What is that in thine hand? And he said, A rod. And He said. Cast it on the ground. And he cast it on the ground, and it became a serpent, and Moses fled from before it. Ana the Lord said unto Moses, Put forth thine hand and take it by the tail. And he put forth his hand and caught^ it and it became a rod in his hand." Now, it is of no concern to us how this miracle was wrought, or whether magicians could simulate it or not. What we do desire to know is, What answer or revelation to the great hesitancy of Moses did Jehovah give in this peculiar work of power? Tn our mind three truths constitute that nnswer?the first of which is this: All tho helps, gifts and attainments of the sou), disregarded and neglected, tend to become hostile. Moses was a gifted man, an experienced man. The shepherd's Btaff symbolired him perfectly. As it was an instrument of defense and rescue, eo might Moses, by what he had done and what he could do. be an instrument in the hand of God to defend and rescue his people. God elected him to a mighty and glorious service. He gave him a complete and adequate preparation, a clear mind, an indomitable will, a spiritual and lofty nature. Would Mose6 accept the election? The fcigninciir.ce of a possible refusal was seen in the meaning miraclc. The discarded staff became a serpent. It is the common teaching of the day that powers and gifts unused become atrophied, that men may die to spiritual things through simple neglect. This is correct teaching so far as Jt goes, but it does not compass the whole of the matter. Spiritual calls, gifts and powers cannot wholly die. They may be disclaimed or cast aside, as was Moses' rod. but they return with inherent life to sting and bite. As an example, the direction and commands of conscicnce mav be cast aside, the impulses of love and faith may 'be ignored, the direct calls of the Holy Spirit be unheeded and yet the soul have more conscious relation with these spiritual entities than ever before. John Newton, the hymn writer, tells us that there was a time in his life when he aeiioerateiy insuiiea ana arovc irom nis mind every holy thing of which he had knowledge, yet "at times the moral judgment and the heart's love for eternal things would so torment him that life was full of misery. Those elements in his life designed for peace and joy be?.rue the sources of unrest and unhappiness. Kemorse is no more than the return of these spiritual powers crying night and day, in silence and in great commotions, "Alas, alas! It mi^ht have been." The doctrine of annihilation and atrophy has so settled over the spiritual thinking of our time that the consequence of disobedience to the equipments and purposes of life and to the voice of God are in certain quarters reduced to mere nothings. It is high time that the truth illustrated to Moses become oar truth, that we realize that there is no such thing as spiritual annihilation, even to the gifts and powers of God, hut that there is transference, transformation?the going (in a spiritual sense) from Mount Gerizion i.blessiug) to Mount Ebal (cursing). Disobedience to God and His law is not mere negation and the withdrawal of certain gifts, but it is in a certain and awful sense an affirmation and a possession?the serpent of menacc rather than the support of life. God's rain upon the thirsty earth is in itself good?that it be ho for man depends altogether how and for what purposes he uses it. He may use it for the growing of food products or for the production of weeds. That the rain was made for man's blessing is evident. That man may disregard ana so convert the gift into a foe is also evident. What the rain is to the earth so are the gifts, helps and calls of God to man. For these things God shall bring us unto judgment, the judgment begins with the obedience or disobedience. In our beloved Methodist church we have a host of God placers at work. People who do not expect to meet God in new lorms or expressions, who, like Moses before his enlightenment, know or act as though they knew just how He would manifest Himself. That Christian joy And expectancy die in such lives is natural; the glory of God is to conceal a thing, but these people will not have it so. They arcperfectly sure God is in some particular form of class meeting, revival service or Christian experience. Another people of God thought this thought so intensely and held it so tenaciously that they missed the glory of the Messiah when He came to walk the liehls and streets of earth. He had "no form or comeliness that they desired or expected He came to His own and they received Him not." Hut in His coining they had kingly and exalted forms which they were certain He would posses; they were sure of the order of His coming. The rod out of the stem of Jesse t hey cast forth; tiiey would have none of Him. Oh, the blind***w1 /liilln/K'c nf thp Imntnn hpnrK 111 that roc! were the power, tiie knowledge and the love of God; with it alone Israel could have overcome all oppression >uul have reachcd the land of light and peace. The rejection of Christ, the roil of .Jesse, also illustrator, the significance of the first truth: Christ was cast down, thrown aside by Israel. The results of that rejection are known to the world. The spiritual lite was atrophied, but something more than that resulted. In the |?iii. cr that people slood Christ in divine opposite- to the in'fiIIn>ent of their selfish hopes, lie. the help of God, became fo them, or, rather, to their position, a hostile power ;.nd must so remain until they reach forth their hands and accept Him. The third thought we would emphasize as the teaching of the miracle of the rod is that no man can lie equipne.' to do great things for God who is filled with le;*r and trembling. Moses was afraid to do the biddiuc of God?afraid of the reeention I he [ divine message w/uld receive, afraid of the conseouenees to himself. The transI formed rod revealed the secret of his hesitancy; lie fled from before it; fear was within his heart. God gave him masterf over that weakness. He reached forth his hand and grasped the menacing 6erpenfc and it became a rod again. Aloses was taught and, as his after life re.vealed, learned the lesson of fearlessness for GcJ and His truth. "If God be for us who can be against us? " The relation of fear to all life and truth is an interesting study, one on which more light is now shed than at any other time in the world's history. Fear is altogether detrimental to the health and growth of the physical body. _ Professor Sully tells lis of children dwarfed and ruined in body and mind through the shock and power of simple fear. Physiologists tell u3. and we know from experience that fear hinders digestion, that it brings mental collapse. The changing of the color of the hair in one night through the paralysis of fear is a well established fact. That which can so radically change the color of pigment must have an awful effect upon the more vital and direct parts of the body. Pear destroys mental and spiritual development. Every book on pedagogy and t.':e spiritual trnininc of children now recognizes and emphasizes this truth. Dickens powerfully illustrated this truth to all England in his "Nicholas Nickleby." Fear has worked havoc in the religious life; it has distorted the vision of God and frozen the genial, and natural expressions of worship. It has paralyzed and hampered the chuixh in her triumphant march. It has transformed many of the messengers of God into poor whining and ineffective apologists. It is this fear in religion and for religion that our God would nave us overcome even as He had Moses overcome. A right conception of God is assurance that He must triumph in the work of His hands, that His kingdom must come and His Jove and truth prevail everywhere. God would have His children confident in the presence of difficulties, assured in tie pretence of perils, calm in the mighty storms of prejudice and doubt. certain in the midst of uncertainties. He would have us obey Him as implicitly and lovingly as the gentle child obeys the loving parent. In all this He would have us open eyed to danger, direct in the meeting of it and sure in the mastery of it. I Tn./ljio tliA rhiirrh. as a whole, is more possessed of fear than we J ike to acknowledge. A dominant materialism and worldliness freeze the faith ard hope of a great number?evangelical zeal and enthusiasm are at a low ebb in these trembling children of the Most High. Critical scholarship, with all the presupncsitions of the higher criticism, stands before the church. It must be met. Some fee? .that dire and dreadful result^ to the cause of God must ensue. The sciei fic spirit stalks abroad in the land and has seized the people with a mighty grin. A.any a child of God, knowing that his most precious possessions have not and cannot, from their nature, come through or be established by such a spirit, but that they are the gifts of faith? is fleeing with fear from before the imagined terror, 'io ail such fearful believers God says?even as to Moses in the miracle of the rod?' meet the difficulties, seize them in their vitals and fear not." There can be but one result to the ehild of God. The Apostle Paul knew this when he wrote: "All things work toeether for good to them that love God." There can be but one result to the Kingdom of God "His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom." All things shall be put under His feet. In the preparation of His church our Saviour gave great attention to the eradka tion ot the elements 01 rengious iear. xus addresses to the seventy end the twelve were supreme emphasis upon confidenco in God and fearlessness toward man and all things that were or rr.iaht appear in opposition to the work Divipe. "Benold I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you. . In His relation to them on sea and land, alone or with the multitudes, before and after death, there constantly appears directly or bv inference the injunction: "JBe not afraid." The Master would have His children joyfully expectant of IliB preeenco in e\-ery place ar.a under all conditions and to realize that that Presence was the ultimate solution of every problem, the resolution of every difficulty and the fulfillment of every promise; that the fearless challenge of the church should ever be: "If God be for us, who can be against us?" _________________ The Hard Life. There is nothing arbitrary in God's judgment. The way of the transgressor is hard because it brings him into conflict with the world's true order and his own appointed' way of growth. Prophet and poet agree that it is out of thesinner's own transgressions that the penalty grows. The gods are just and of our pleasant vices Make whips to 2courge us. <<rTV?ir?/% on r*rooh thee nr.d thv bnckslidings shall reprove thee; know therefore and see that it is an evil thing and a bicter that thou has forsaken the Lord thy God. and that my fear is not in thee, &aitn the Lord of Hosts." The sinner's life is a hard one in its penalties. He who sows a sin sows a seed which will spring up and bear fruit after its kind. The powing men call pleasure, but the harvest all agree is suffering. It is a hard life to suffer for old 6ins, and harder still, s,jv3 the C'ongregationalist, to see others suffer. For- no man can sov evil and be sure that none of it will ripp/i in his neighbor's fields. To reap the evil harvest is bad enough, but to see it rifening in the lives of tno?e we love is ha der yet. Our increasing knowledge ha9 only emphasized this certainty of penalty following transgression. The warnings of the Book are continually illustrated in the experiences of the world. The transgressor's life is hard in its deprivation. The question is sometimes raised whether the sinner doei not, after all, get more out of the world than the true disciple. He who has turned from evil to live Wiiu VJUU no ci laiacn mav ijucouuu< He knows that the earth without peace oi heart, witlf)ut joy in right and sympathy with good, without the happiness of God's presence ,and delight of service is a hard and narrow and unhappy place. The true and full inheritance of the earth belongs to the children of God and to no others. To be self-deprived of the highest.and the best is to be cheated of what makes our life worth living. Far back, also, in every transgressor's consciousness lies the hard tria.1 of selfcontempt. He may not admit it to his thought. Conscience mav be ill-educated and under careful discipline; but in the moments when he sees clearly the sinner is self-judged. God has let as sit upon the seat of counsel and we sec what value we have put upon our souls in bartering with evil. Still, as of old, Man hy himself is priecd. For thirty pieces Judas sold Himself, not Christ. It is hard to fear to meet one's own thought sitting as the judge; to dodge and shift and evade the quiet hour that Drinjrs self-condemnation. It is hard to be. amid whatever passing ioys. without God and without hope in a world that is so full of hope and sn bright with the presence of our Heavenly Father. "Who Are the Praying Ones?" It is said of Charles G. Finney, the great evangelist and preacher, that he always insisted on the spirit of prayer, power to prevail with God. as absolutely indispensable in a successful Christian worker. The fact was very marked in all the powerful revivals where Mr. Finney labored. Perhaps not the many were Jed in this way, for as in our day. only U12 few hidden ones got down into the deen plaocs with God. out there were always those who learn the secret of the Lord as He 'oves to reveal it to the willing and obidient; and these -Mr. Finney considered as inc: important allies in carrying 011 a revival. ITIj nitfsiinn n*i on I oriror n nlnre to becin mectirv's, was. not who wili licln in the preaching, but vrno are ilie praying one*, [fas there been a *?>..it of prayer poured out upon any in the community? Who arc "standing upon the watch tower." wailing for the vision? And if he found but one or two who rer..'- took* hold on God with conscious power, his heart was encouraged, and !;e tori; up his labors with renewed energy. Until of late all the most ulorious buildings that our i:tt has reared beneath the .san have been erected to serve the purposes of worship. .Man does not five by bread alone.?The Kev. Dr. Utter, Unitarian, Dcuver, Col. , THE SUNDAY . SCHOOL | INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR AUCUST 2. I i Subject: Sainnel Anoint* David, 1 Sam. xvl., 4-13?Golden Te*t, 1 Ham. xvi., 7? Memory Verses, 11-13?Study Verses' j r 1-13?Commentary on the Day's Lesson. I j. j'jajjninjj iui" a new King vvs. i-.ij. j Samuel's griei because of Saul's rejection I was great. This showed his affection for i Saul and his interest in the kingdom. | But to continue long in such grist would ' hinder him in his public duties as prophet I and ako dishonor (rod. It was Samuel's i duty to recognize God's will as supreme i and not continue to cling to Saul when God had rejected him. The divine cure for grief is a greater faith in God. 4. "Samuel?came." The Lord told Samuel to go to Bethlehem and anoint j one of the sons of Jesse. But Samuel said. "How can I 20? If Saul hear it he will j kill me" (v. 2). The Lord then told SamI uel to take a heifer and go to Bethlehem and sacrifice unto the Lord. "The elders." Men who acted as civil magistrates. "Troubled." Some think that the breach between Samuel and Saul was now so great that they feared the anger of Saul if they entertained the prophet; but it seems more probable that they feared that his coming -was for the purpose^ of punishing some sin among them, or of pronouncing some judgment upon them. "Peaccably. If he had come with no hostile purpose his visit would be considered a blessing. 5. "Sanctify yourselves." Change your clothes, and wash your bodies in pure water. and prepare your minds by meditation. reflection and prayer, that, being in the spirit of sacrifice, ye mav offer acceptably to the Lord. See 19:14,, 15. "Jesse and his eons." Samuel himself took the greatest care in the sanctification of Jesse's family. Some think the elders were invited only to join in the sacrifice, while the family of Jesse were invited by themselves to the subsequent feast. It appears from chapter 20:27-29, that Jesse's family were a devout religious family. Samuel instructed them in the nature of the sacred ordinance and by his counsels and prayers assisted them in preparing to attend to it acceptably and profitably. It is probable from the acts and words of Samuel on this occasion that he privately informed Jesse of his purpose to anoint one of his sons, but it nowhere appears that Jesse was informed as to the object of that anointing. This was left for future developments to disclose. II. The Lord chooses David (vs. 6-12). 6. '"When they were come." After the public sacrifice there was the sacrificial feast, and in order to partake of this feast Samuel went to the home of Jesse. Be wodi iVip and the feast several hours would necessarily elapse as the victim would have to he prepared and cooked. During this interval the sons of Jesse were made to pass before Samuel, for it anpears from verse 11 that David was sent for before they partook of the meal. "Eliab." Jesse's oldest son. one of Saul's army in the Palestine war (1 Sam. 17:13). and afterwards the ruler of Judah under David. In 1 Chron. 27:18 he is called Elihu. We have an exhibition of his rude and overbearing temper in 1 Sam. 17:28. "Surely." etc. "Samuel was impressed with his stature and beauty and remembered that Saul had been similarly recommended (1 Sam. 10:24). But the day was past when kings were chosen because they were head and shoulders above the rest." 7. "Look not/' etc. Even Samuel was still judging from outward appearances. "That which chiefly recommended Saul to the favor of Israel was his size and beauty, but now in selecting a man after his own heart Jehovah shows that his divine judgment is based not on external form or comeliness, but on the inner life. David also, however, was of a goodly appearance" (v. 12). "On the heart." God does not look at one's earthly possession, or social rank, or family history, or literary attainments, or natural ability, for He does hot judge from appearances, not even from religious manifestations?such as many tears, many prapers, a serious deportment, a solemn tone to the voice, etc.; but God looks on the heart, the inner life, the charI or>frov -imlcrpa nrpnrHinorlv 8-10. "Abinadab?Shainmah." These two, with Eliab, were the sons of Jesse sent by war against the Philistines (chap. 17:13). "Again." Jesse, no doubt, brought his sons before Samuel in the order in which he considered them to rank, bringing the most likely first. "Not chosen these." David's seven brothers had passed before Samuel and the Lord had refu?ed them all. This expression implies that ' Samuel had alreadv Drivately informed Jesse of the object of his coming. 11. "Are here all." Samuel was not ready to give up. "He quickly surmised that there might be one overlooked or counted unfit by the father. Jesse !:ad offered all of his sons, whom he supposed were at all likelv to suit. But the Lord had sent Samuel, and the errand could not be in vain. "The youngest." _ Jes?e having evidently no idea of David's wisdom and bravery, snoke of him a? the most unfit. God in His providence .?o ordered it. that the appointment of David mi flit tho more clearlv aunear to bo a I divine purpose and not the design cither j of Samuel or Jesse. His name signifies I "beloved," and he was an eminent, type of the beloved Son of God. "Sit down." The word thus rendered means "to surround." end here suggests the sitting down or reclining around a table. Samuel did not propose to have that family rather round the tabie of the peace offerings with one of the sons absent. Here a le?on bearing on family worship mr.y be learned. 12. "Ruddy." The word denotes the red hair and fair skin which arc regarded as a mark of beauty in southern countries, where the hair and completion are fereraily dark. "Beautiful countenance.'"' Literally, of beautiful eyes. This indicates that his eyes were keen and penetrating, enlivened by the lires of genius, and beaming with a generous warmth. David was evidently a beautiful young man a? lie stood there before Samuel. "This is he." This was God's choice and Samuel v..i? commanded to anoint him at onee. We can see here how little stress the Lord really puts on outward forms and ceremonies, for David was not present, when Samuel sanctified Jesse's sons with such ! great care. _ III. David set. apart for his work (v. ' is* ' Arwiinfrvl him." David was anointed in the presence of his brethren, though it is not at all likeiv thai they understood at this time to what position he wa? being called. It is extremely doubtful if David understood the meaning of the act. "Spirit ea.re mightily.*' Such a setting apart would have a mighty influence upon his life. The ar.ointin? was not an empty ceremony, bur a divine power attended it. so that David was inwardN advanced in wisdom and eourago and_ concern for the public, with all the qu.i'iiic.v tions of a prince, though not at all advanced in his outward circumstances. The cift of the Holy Spirit is the greater iw best gift of Coil to man. London's Water Dill. London has a water bill which is not paid to the water company. The casual statement was made in the House of Commons the other night that London paid annually not less than $150,000 for water which had been put in the milk it drank, j The quantity of milk received into LonJ don every day is approximately 144.0OU i gallons, which retails at 4d. a quart. The ^ rate of adulteration is 15.2. A Well-Worn Testament. i What would bacteriologists say of the j Testament owned by Coroner Charsley of 1*.I^n/rlnri/) If w!?s houcllt in I ]79S by his grand?ather, v.ho was Coroner, | ami used by him for swearing in witnesses. ' It was used by his son, who also was : Coroner. And now it is used by the grandI son. A conservative estimate puts the { number of kisses bestowed on it at 100,000. King Christian'* Ketirt." i King Christian of Denmark is r. very ' old man. but lie still preserves his wit. The other day a deputation of Danish j subjects visited him at his summer palace i at J'Yedensborg and asked permission to erect a statue in his honor. Dp replied j that he had no desire at present to be j petrified, and the project was dropped. To?cl? Appreciation of Art. ' ^ n>ft f /-v i:i the appreciation of works of art in the schools by means of reproductions of wellknown masterpieces. // THE RELIGIOUS LIEB f READING FOR THE QUIET HQUfJ WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF.' ~~ Poem: "Singer of To-Day?The Virtue of Having l/eft All to Follow Christ?Why God Often Is Obliged to Feed His CbiU' ' ? dren Prosperity in Small spoonfols. J j Oh! SiDger of to-day, this glorious hour | Is all for ycu and me?what shall it givtf ; J To us, and ask of fate?what splendid! '-ftS I power . In brain and hand, what glorious right; to live < _ j [Among our fellows, and to war with sin? What quickening of the pulse as we aB* j pire -Ima To claim our right, and risk earth's joys tfl| 41 win, To co.iquer self, and force it through thq 1 fire! Give us this force, dear God, and eve? ttxctc s i.-ia Give us a deepening love of all our fellogj men; l&fH Give lis new insight?courage to explore i With all the tenderness of human ken., A The loveliest heart that beats- in humaif kind, ' '* 4 Its glory and its soul to seek and find! ( ?William Ordway Partridge, in The Out< 'ook. . " ' Tfflj Gold or God? >( . , ^ We all of us are familiar with Hoffman'^ % wonderful painting of Christ and the young ruler. Many of us have framed in? ' our homes the head of Christ taken froxnf a it, and we know the power of those pic-j ' a tured eyes, the wonderful drawing quality; . ;f; that the artist has put into that face. We know what an influence that picture ha* ' been in our own lives. And if a mere man s ideal of that divine " personality can be so great, what must have been the strength of the tie wbictt . drew and tried to bind the heart of the young ruler to the man Christ Jesus! The yearning of Christ's love to him met an^ answering longing in his own soul". Rich as he was. he was not wholly happy, not } satisfied with mere luxurious existence. '' Vjg Jesus had called the young man?in .:% spirit if not by words?but he hesitated ^ perhaps to join himself with this crowd of * nsher folk and humble followers of Christ. , Jesus saw through the hesitancy at once,, ? ; as He sees through yours and mine sometimes, when He has called us to a woric r for Him and we draw back. He answered by a sad searching question, "Why do yoti . call Me good? There is none good but God."1, Did Jesus wish to make this wealthy voting man commit himself by saying that ne b?H v lieved that Jesus was the- Son of God?. x Did He mean, too, to make him under- !; stand that in leaving all to follow the Son! ? of God 'even he, rich and honored as be was. -would lose nothing? Then He reminded him gently <|f the rules of right and wrong in which he had ;* teen reared, and the young man's answer ? showed that lie knew he needed something' beyond commandments, and gave permis-j sion for Jecus to put His finger upon the sore point. Then sadly and tenderly Jesus spoke the words, the thought of-which wa*. . in both their minds, and the young mao1 saw that there was a power as strong or stronger, maybe, drawing him away' from? Christ as that which drew him to Him/ His possessions! Alas! He is sorrowful!! He turns away grieved. He had hoped :-S, perhaps that Christ would find some way :':M for him to follow and yet keep his gold. God is often obliged for their own' sake* %? to feed His children .prosperity in very; small .spoonfuls. We are not told whether the young matf sold his all to follow Jesus. .Probably not* or it would certainly have been noised , abroad, and the writer of tins story WouJtf %.T have heard and recorded. But perhaps God, in mercy, took his possessions away from him in years after, and tenderly 'li brought him to surrender his proud, ambi- % tious heart, and it may be we, shall ode day meet him in some humble corner of heaven, glad that he has won it at laat, evenl though stripped of all that he once held . X dear. For there seems to be hope for|him ini * the very fact that he was sorrowful about it. It shows that, after all, tbe drawing toward Jesus was powerful, and there . seems, too, encouragement for this thought in Jesus' words, "how hardly," showing that it would be through tribulation that , "i the young man would enter in. " They stood, very likely, beside the great city gates as this talk was going on. It ,: A j may jiave been toward evening, and the ! gates themselves were closed for tbe night, I and only the little gates or doors, so high up in tne large gate that it was difficult for any but foot cassengers to get through, were still open. It was the custom to close I the large gates at sunset, leaving possible [ entrance only through these little doors, or i ; "needle's eyes," as they were called. To ' J get a camel through these openings it was .needful to take off all his trappings, hi* I many burdens and treasures ot mere ha nI dise that he was carrying, and literally \ f i drag him through, one foot lifted over at a' : time. Jesus used always the illustration j to point His sermon that was nearest at hand and hest understood. And tbe listenera marveled as they reflected how few | rich ones would be willing to divest themi selves of their treasures. Then Peter expressed the thought of all ! of them. "We, at least. Master," be .said, "however many other faults we may have, j have left all to follow Thee." And at once ' i the Master flashes them His confidence and j joy and blessing in a promise that they I shall not have done this for nothing; no, j not even as earthly rewards are counted, iSS-j : and for the heavenly the reward shall be ! never-ending. | Applied Truths?A shiD laden with rich' ! ore and gold dust went down not long ago ^ j off the Pacific Coast. There were men on ? board who had given the best of their lives ' toward winnine that gold, had suffered hardships untold, and wera going home to their families or to their long anticipated dreams of'pleasure, with eager joy in their hearts. Eut when the accident occurred and they knew that it was a question of life or gold, most of them unhesitatingly abandoned their treasures and flung themselves into the sea empty handed, glad to escape with their lives. A few, however, grasred frantically all the gold they couVi * possibly carry and attempted to swim with it to the shore, and one after another of the poor fellows clutching the gold were dragged down with it into tnfdeep.?Grace Livingston Hill, in the NeTr York Mail and . Express, 4l A Trlmary Tenclier's Kapedienr. Small schools are often greatly hamp? ercd by lack of a separate room for the primary da?*. A novel and yet sensible and practicable means of overcoming this difficulty was suggested at a State convention recently. "Why not use the porch or parlor of "the house next to the churcn?" asked one woman when the problem was being discussed. It then developed that this method had been tried and found eminently satinfactory. In summer the primary cla*s meets on a neighboring porch or lawn, and in winter in the parlor of a home. Trialn Made Blegsiac*. Trials rightiy improved become blessing^. r Losses sanctified become permanent gams. , He whose we .are and whom we profess to r serve kuows this, and sees io it that Ave have n;> trials beyond what He is able and ? ? J i.L.1 ready to neip us to improve, aaa mm we lose nothing that may not by grace be made a real gain to us. Phillips Brooks says. "It is the same Christ who has been making a place in us for the kingdom o? heaven, who will at last make a place in the kingdom of heaven for us." It is the same God who, in all and through all, is working for His good pleasure ana for our eternal profit, even when for the time He may seem to us to be working agunst us. , St. retcrsbuiR'B Anti-Flirts. i * The first meeting of the organizers of the new "Club of the Enemies of Flirting"- \ took place a few days ago in Ernest's fashionable restaurant, on the Kamennostrovski Prospect in St. Petersburg. There were present thirty-seven young men, belonging to the higher ranks of society. The members exchanged a solemn promise ' | to refrain from Hirting and to prevent I others from flirting. Those breaking their i promise must contribute for charitable I iL- ? J (MCAA iU.? purpose.* quvu ine nisi uine ana use - ^ second time. After the third offense the guilty one v.ill be expelled from the club and may only be readmitted after the exI piration of one year, ^ .. . . . ?. " ^ &*?