The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 05, 1903, Image 6
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, ^ .. . . . ?.
"
^ &*?