University of South Carolina Libraries
[f LUKE H~ 1! TUP 1 I I By Prof. Wm. Henry P * I Author of the "TKe Stone-Cqti js I of Lisbon,'* Etc. CHAPTER XXVIIL Continued. "I do," said Hammond. "John Marks never committed but one crime: TT -, rtn<rrA? rtAm. lie roooeu JI1B luuiu. uc ucia Wiu mitted the burglary for 'which he was transported?I have seen the nan that did It, and before John Marks would clear himself at the expense of a comrade. he suffered for that comrade's crime. 'Twas I that instigated him to rob his father?you know that, Nancy | Harker." "I do," said Nancy, vers pale. "And ^do you think, Luke Hammond, that if John Marks had a son like Charles he would wish to lOke that son a villain." v "None of that, Nancy Harker," said Hammond. "Call me no hard names. No, John Marks is a reckless fellow, but he is a little foolish, and I believe would rather find his sen a good, an honest man, hating him, than find his son a scoundrel, loving him. And even If there were no son in the case why should John Marks betray me when from mp he can obtain gold, and from no one else. Enough of this. We must prepare for a wedding." "Now that you have the will what do you intend to do with Henry Elgin?" asked "Nancy. "That is iny business," said Hammond. "Seek to know nothing of him after this night. He will disappear. Does Catharine Elgin still refuse *ood?" . "She does," said Nancy. | "But she drink??" "Yes?but nothing but water," replied Nancy. "It is enough," said Hammond. "She draws the water from the fountain in Jier room." "Yes; she will drink from nothing that I fill," said Nancy, "and uses a glass goblet which stands ever in her (eight near the fountain." "You know the pattern of that glass j|? ?you have others like it Bring me oue, saiu jauajiiiuiiu. Nancy departed, and soon returned with a large cut-glass goblet of a pale gold color. "Ah! Is that the color of Catharine Elgin's goblet? Good! Fortune favors me," said Hammond. He then searched in his desk and produced a small silver vial, from which he poured a few drops of pale yellowish liquid into the goblet. Then, with a delicate brush of silken hair he coated the inside of the goblet with the liquid, which seemed something like a thin varnish. "What is that?" asked Nancy HarSFt"' ker"A secret," said Hammond, swinging the goblet to dry it. "A secret that has ^V~ never played me false, and one that I Jrfc-- shall never tell. Its effects you shall see to-night. Now return with this PgUUiet l\J VjttlUUl C 1 VKJLLA. U\J ^not let her see that you have it, Contrive to exchange It for the one she uses. Can you do it?" Vs. , "Of course I can," said Nancy, taking the goblet. "Right. Now go and do it. When you have done it -watch her closely, and when she has drunk from the goblet let me know." Nancy left him, and he worked at the will until the clock struck 10. As it struck some one rapped at the door, and as Hammond opened it Stephen entered, followed by a small, mean-looking man in fehabby clerical garb. "Ah, Mr. Allday! You are prompt," ?aid Hammond. "Always am, Mr. Hammond, when my friends need me," squaked Mr. Allday. as he fawned before the supposed rich money broker, Luke Harn 5.v, , UJVUU, ?iOl{. "Right," said Hammond. "Stephen, station yourself at the private entrance. When Mr. Marks appears admiV him." "Will he come alone?" asked Stephen. "I hope not," said Hammond, thinking of what John Marks had promised to bring with him. "However, if there is any one with him you do not know do not let him pass." "Very well, sir," said Stephen, f.ud then left the library. "Mr. Allday," said Hammond, placing a slip of paper in his visitor's hand, "there is your note for $95." "Thank you, Mr. Hammond. What can I do to serve you?" "You must perform a marriage ceremony." "But I have been deprived of my license to officiate as a clergyman," said Allday. "In fact, the only license i had was n forgery." "I know that. Mr. Allday. But I am content with you as you are," said Hammond. "You must marry me to a young lady to-night and make no remarks." "Certainly?anything you say, Mr. Hammond." "Right. I shall pay you well. I shall also need your evidence hereafter. Until I desire your presence he so kind as to retire into the next room. You will tint] refreshments there." "Oil. I shall wait patiently, Mr. Hammond," said Allday, as Hammond conducted him into a small apartment a'jd left him before some tempting edibles. "Tlinr mnn !o o ?> ?s i tt 10 t* giuiiuu, aaiu XT.Uilli4 moil to himself, when again at his I desk. "Feed him -well and he will k; serve you all your life." He was working with his cunning pen when Nancy Harker appeared. "Sii-? has used the goblet you prepared." s.".id Nancy. "Good! I am waiting for John fcjV * Marks," said Hammond. "Iieturn to Miss Elgin, and let me know how she ia in half an hour. I shall wait no longer." g&v' Nancy went away, and after half an Aours absence returned to the librery. . . ,.\ .. . . . AMMOND, |1 MISER, 11 eck, I Copyright 1896, I S ^ I by Bobkbt Bokkxb'b Bobs. a g Z (AO rights reserved.) Ji W "Well," said Hammond, throwing aside bis pen. "Catharine Elgin seems out of her mind, dizzy, faint. She doeB not recnize me. She walks about, but says nothing," said Nancy, looking quite frightened. "Right. Now go tell Henry Elgin that his daughter Is drugged. That I am going to marry her in his presence. That I -will delay the ceremony if he will make a will as I desire." "What use? You can forge one now without danger," said Nancy. "No man can forge without danger," said Hammond. "If possible I must have a will from Henry Elgin's own pen and band. I find so many alterations to make in this will that I cannot use it. Unless Elgin makes another will I shall be forced to forge one from heading to signature. It is 11 o'clock. Make haste." Nancy departed, and soon returned, saying: "Henry Elgin defies you." "Does be? Curse the obstinate fool!'* said Hammond. "I will wait no longer for John Marks. Go to Miss Elgin. I will be there in a moment." "I wish it was all over," said Nancy, as she went away. Hammond entered the room where he had left Mr. Allday, and found that XI v. ! ? t_l wormy man uiguiy pieusseu. "Come," said Hammond. "We will now visit the bride and make an end of it." "Of course. Anything you desire, Mr. Hammond, I will do," said Allday, as Hammond led him into the eastern wing. In the hall Hammond paused. "Did you see anything, Mr. Allday?" he asked, trembling and staring before him. "Where?" "Before us!" "Nothing but an empty hall," said Allday. '"True, there is nothing else," said Hammond. "Come on." But Hammond had seen, and for the first time while awake, the phantom face of his dead father. He attributed it to his fevered brain and resolved to go on in evil. He went on. __ 1 V CHAPTER XXIX. THE LA6T OF LUKE HAMMOND. Luke Hammond found Kate Elgin as Nancy Harker had described. The unfortunate girl was not feigning delirium, for she had swallowed, while drinking water, the poisonous drug Hammond had smeared in the goblet. She was pale, very pale, but on each snowy cheek burned a bright red spot, while her splendid, dark brown eyes were unnaturally brilliant. She paced to and fro with a restless, purposeless haste, and took no notice' of those around her. "This 16 my intended wife, Mr. Allday," said Hammond. "Can she make tbe responses, Mr. Hammond?" asked Alfflay, to whom Kate Elgin was a stranger. "is it necessary, Mr. Aiiaay r "Not if you think otherwise, Mr. Hammond," said Allday. "But she is not in a state to know what is going on." "That matters not," said Hammond. "Where is Daniel, Mrs. Harker?" "I believe he sleeps. I will call him," said Nancy, going from the room into the hall. "Give me your hand, Miss Elgin," said Hammond. Kate looked at him wildly, but did not move a muscle. Hammond took her hand in his, and she made no resistance. "Comt," said Hammond leading her toward the door. She fallowed him in silence, and he led her into the hall and thence through the ante-room of the crimson chamber into the presence of her father. "Ha!" cried Hammond. "Who moved that bed?" "I did," said Henry Elgin sternly. "For what?" "There was a draught near the grate that chilled my very bones," said Elgin. Nancy Harker and Daniel now came in. "Henry Elgin," said Hammond, "you behold your daughter. She moves, she sees and hears. But for the time her mind is vacant. She knows nothing. Do you still refuse to obey me?" "Let me speak to that man who wears a garb that I have respected and honored all my life," said Elgin, who held his arms folded across his breast. "It is useless for you to speak to him." said Hammond. "Answer my question." "Still, I will speak to him," said Elfrin. "Sir wtinpvpr -?rr>n nrp T nm thf? father of that unfortunate girl. As her father, I forbid this outrage to be done." "Mr. Hammond," said Allday, terribly alarmed at his situation, "perhaps this affair hnd best go no farther." "Silence, Thomas Allday," said Hammend. "It must go on to the end.' Do you refuse to go on, sir?" "I am afraid?that is?you know the circumstances of the case," stammered Allday. "The circumstances of the case. Thomas Allday, are these." said Hammond. "You have committed forgery. I hold the proofs in my hands. I can produce them at any moment and send you to Sinp Sing. You know that?" "I do?unfortunately I do." said Allday. who shrank from Henry Elgin's terrible glance to he appalled by the fierceness of Hammond's eyes. "Will you go on with the ceremony?" i demanded Luke Hammond. Still Allday paused. lie feared the future. He was not a clergyman, tnough he saw that Henry Elgin believed him to be one. To be continued. . J J .C5 - , A SERMON FOR SUNDAY ? *W p A BIOCRAPHICAL DISCOURSE BY r( PRES. STRYKER. OF HAMILTON. 01 ri c< An Eloquent Tribntc to John Wesley and tl the Influence of Hf? Preaching?Stands w Out Supreme Above All Men of His 1 Age as a Religious Leader. New York City.?Union services of ei T ofoi.flfffl A ronuo T^rochvfpriail and A! CIIC juatujvuv Clinton Avenue Congregational churches is began Sunday morniDg in the edifice of the -bI first named. The Rev. Dr. M. W. Stryker, si President of Hamilton College, Clinton, N. o Y., spoke on "John Wesley, but used no f< text. As will be seen, he paid an eloquent it tribute to the influence of his preaching, -w Dr. Stryker said: Upon June 17, 1703, that is, 200 years ti ago, was born at Epworth, Lincolnshire? si 160 miles from London, and at about the " eaBt centre of England?a man whose in- ir fluence stands out supreme above all the m men of his agp. Eighty-eight years old, on h the 2d of March, 1791, he died. Thus his ti life compassed nearly the whole of the t< eighteenth century, and under God it was S the most fertilizing and redeeming agency ii toward the moral forces and accomplish- u ments of the nineteenth. And still the p world is debtor, and will ever be, to the t] convictions and consecrations, the energies ic and the efficiency of that one man?John 1 4 ?'-I-1- ?">*>/-? o rvnfbn f .T wesiey. a miguiy iiupuuc uuu ? ?, organization attested and attests his sin- p gufar and recreative purpose and achieve- a ment. We may well reckon with such a A personality in considering the movement of h the modern world. Even the barest outline if records a wonder and furnishes a corrective pi to a 'hundred superficial philosophies and a 1! thousand shallow neglects. While Wes- (X leyans and Methodists in all lands are recit- I ing that story, let us all, with them, who n share a like precious faith recall and re- S joice, ponder and hope. For the elements fc of it are as deep as the first principles of "V the Christian religion, and the fame and d forces of it are the common possession of " all who hail the kingdom of the Son of ti God. o This man was horn into a home when life in an age that hated anything more ri than formal religion was exceptional. The tl mother that nurtured him was that Susan- p fifth Weslev of whom Adam Clark said that t he never saw her equal. His ancestry was a of that Puritan stoclt and stuff whose fiber t of conscience had affirmed the real Eng- a land its vigors and rigors had been super- v ceded by the recrudescence of the livid s; Stuarts, but, though ignored, it had not de- fi parted, and in him and by him it spoke v again and bore its second harvest. 5 Wesley began his work in the Eatab- n lished and Episcopal Church, and though a by it he was soon despised and rejected he s loved it always and cherished its better & part. For two years he wrought in Geor- s gia, but the Grand Jury of that colony in- n dieted him. There he uttered that notable a word, "I hope to learn the sense of the cob- s pel by preaching it." He came into close c touch with Moravians here and in Eu- v rope. Had that little body done nothing s else than directly to deepen, and by its re- v action to enlarge, John Wesley, it had done t a mighty work. But their narrowness he p escaped, while retaining their intensity, a Over the deep and critical experiences of h his inner heart, with its unusual.combina- s tion of sensitiveness and decision, we wiH not pause. They were basal. In them he b found the Light he followed to the end. li See him at Oxford. He was a student? t intensely so. 'Specially and always of logic 1< and language, fie found in these an ample e discipline; for language is ' organized h Ar? oKIa mnefpr nf fitrp toncmefl. a he learned compass and discrimination. In ti his life he wrote or edited 250 volumes. i.< At Oxford he was the centre of a little t group of which his brother Charles, and 1 soon Whitfield, were others. They began ? to live by rule and made their protest and example of a pure life. They served God ti by method?all of them at this time zealous f< and even ultra Episcopalians. They were called the "Godly Club"?"Bible Moths"? t! "Methoditfts." Oppr^br/^m easily finds de- ti risive names. A hundred yefirs, and more, I earlier this same devotion had been called h "Puritan." ? Consider that eighteenth century into which they came. It was a feculent and rowdy age. Read Thackeray's "Four Georges"?read Lecky's ample treatment who says "all the dazzling episodes of the reign of George II. must yield in real importance" to Methodism. Hear Bishop Butler (1736). "It is come to pass that a, many assume Christianity to be purely ficti- ti tious and no longer a subject of inquiry." ? The general sentiment of the churcn was s benumbed, torpid, stagnant?dry essay ser- ? mons were the vogue, a languid and luke- ? warm moderation held sway, ready to hate Si wnaiever raoiestea us soaaen jnainerem- ;? ism. Look into the cartoons of Hogarth 1! and see if the times he pictured did not < need the winds of God! Consider the ve- d neers of Chesterfield and reckon if that r. stilled and padded and festering society t; did not demand the breath of reality! Pub- v lie life was debauched by the coarse and c frank corruDtion of the ministry of Robert a Walpole. It was Wesley more than all P others who roused a public conscience to rally about the stern and aggressive hon- t, esty of Pitt?Pitt, who rescued India, and >' Germany, and America. It was Wesley s: who under God broke the moral drouth? s struck an artesian well far into the sub- a stratum beneath the morass of the desert a ?led the great reaction which made possi- 3' ble the reform and the power of modern England; made possible the revival of the s; nineteenth century?Heber, and Martyn, fi and Keble, and Liddon. He became an in- P fluence 60 incalculably fertile and diffusive t that to no other man of modern times save b Luther, to no other Englishman save Wv- i* clif, does the world owe so much. It b pleased Matthew Arnold, with an icy Phil- p ; jstinism, to fleer at Wesley and to dispar- ii i age him as "a third-class mind." But by u I what token this frosty estimate? In that 1< drunken, unclean, insolent century, Wes- h lev's ifi the briffhtefit namp whpthpr his n work is judged by its width or its depth, " whether by its immediate or its permanent h remits. fi When conformity and nonconformity h I were alike moribund, he renewed the indi- h vidualism of the gospel message, personal- d ized its appeal ana rediscovered mankind! Do not forget that this starting point of modern religious history was witnin the ! walls of a college, and lay in the devotedness and relentless aggressiveness of a few ? men. ? The work began in the open air. Whit- a field, with his lively and unselfish cbarac- t ter and that wondrously emotional voice, a led the way among the colliers of Kingswood in Cornwall. England was full of pa- e gan poverty, and this new departure to- j ward the "submerged" and the forgotten? ^ this human compulsion of a zeal that ate up j, neglect and its einbitterments, broke one< _ for all with the traditions of apathy. Then * John Wesley stormed Bristol town. Little { did men know, little did these men know, n what a chord they had struck, as their in- 0 domitable fervor and unintermittent ag- v gression hurled out of their way the things t that would have obstructed them and once y more reached after the soul of the common f man. It was a radical return to the 6im- ^ plicity of Christ, and it had to face the ^ frown and scoffings of those who do always v resist the spirit of what is real and uncompromising. The harvest was while and had {lnnnr Jiopn unattpmnted. The work was born under the sky, baptized by the tears ef the lowly, hailed by the new songs of ^ tens of thousands under the dome of God! It went with Christ after the lost sheep, nnd swept the very dust for the lost jewels. It did not reach down from an attitude of stiff condescension and patronage, but ' reached out from the universal level of human sympathy and childlike love. And it proved by its errand and result that lie who wants the rouIb of men enough to go after them in Christ's way can have them, c This is the method of the evangel for ( which the world is aching and starving, c This is the idea of service upon which t alone rests the power of Christ, Friend of <1 Sinners, and of whom always the common 1 people hear gladly when He i9 truly told, f The indifference and the contempt of men t at large for the church is at any given time r the reflection of the indifference nnd con- j tempt of the church for men at large. The 11 sign of the apostle is the sign of the sickle, u And the other power was over and c through the intensity with which they v bore it, the clearness and directness of the message itself. It uttered the two fundamental words, "repent" and "believe," with an accent of imperativeness that pmote the frivolity and inhuman superfi- t ciality of the age. Again it transfigured t the possibilities of the lowliest man. It C said what many only thonght and dared ^ what many only wiahed. Its busineaa wat<J c > convince Eneknd that every man bad a ^ >ul and that life ifes an immortal stairay, up or down! It taught of a living od and the powers of an endless life. It S ;viewed that standing article of the Refrmation. "Justification by faith." It cared the trutli afield and again it lifted the itters' roof till it touched the stars. It ^ od the bottom of human longing, and hile it arraigned sin in fearful terms, it rought the news of hope and joy. No onder that guflto came with the rain upon le barren land. No wonder that turbid motion accompanied the flood of feeling. a lany things always are rent when Satan ^ i cast out. Always such upheavals -arry f ;ubble upon their currents ? such tides + iving loose unanchored spirits. But par- ( dy is a counting proof of power, and the t >rces of eternity were shaking a people to g ;s centre. Much was unwelcome when all as unready. a What real prophets have not met opposi- t ion? These men were "shut out of the rnagogues" of the establishment. They ^ faced a frowning world." They knew all idignities. Mobs led by squires and clergy- tj ten dragged them through horse ponds and t owled against their lives. Nothing was 30 foul to fling at them with hand and angue. Not a man of all the bishops save i amuel Butler took their part. But despis- _ ig hardships and dangers, they grew, and J pon the church that disowned them they r ut an indellible mark. Being defamed, x hey entreated, and they lived to see opin>n change. 1 Tr7L-x - onAofnl-man VV lidL H UlUL'cac naucu uuo cftjsvovw*?%> ....... _ ohn Wesley! He touched two hemisheres. Nav, all the ends of the earth. J. nd his hand is stretched out still. In 1766 lethodism began in America. Wesley at is death declared, "The best of all, God j ! with us." There were tiicn 313 of his reachers in England; in the United States, < 98. Now in Great Britain there are 700,- . )0 communicants, in Canada 300,000, in the * Inited States 6,000,000, who recur to that , ew Pentecost. At length in 1876 Dean . tanley unveiled in Westminster Abbey a ! iblet with the shining profiles of John Lesley and Charles, lardily but at last n id a state church?which in their dav knew not the time of its visitation"?at- ? est the reflex influence of its prophets and l wn a work so grandly done! In John Wesley tremendous toil and a ? fire gift for organization and order and ? he loftiest spiritual enthusiasm and a sim- " le purpose to do one thing were united in * he proportion of genius. Great he was by . ny test. Time is a 6tern criterion and by " hat estimate Wesley survives as Paul does ? nd Luther and Loyola. He is of the few 11 rho make eras. He had large sense and a ostein. He wrought witn mighty industry ? or half a century. No moment was 1 n /tinnf onormT hp T^rP.trllP^ I F CttfltCU. TTiWI tfc fLiu. uv VUVtC|l ? 00 times a year for fifty years. And yet J rith. this passion for work he had a pure nd calm mind. Self-denying, refined, , weet tempered, considerate, he had the i cholar's vision and a saintly heart. "In ' eventy veare." he said, "I have not lost a ' ight's sleep." "I save all I can and give F 111 get." "Make all yon can by industry, \ ave all you can by economy, give all you [ an by liberality." Thus he was rich to- J rard God. Peculiarities he had; let small I ouls count them. Strifes there were, but ?ho cares for the logical differences be- ( ween Wesley and Whitfield, since both e reached the evangel of a holy and imme- r iate decision. Thank God for that good 1 ome at Epworth and for thjft Susannah'f f ons! J Let us all see that religion ia not in m- ; ric and rite, but in devoted hearts and 1 ives, unsophisticated by the bribes of cus- . om, undaunted by the oppositions of hoi- { 3w tradition, instant to serve, tireless to { ffect results, believing God! For one may ' ave all the apparatus of regularity and die ( starveling. Power is granted onlv to hose who will pay its whole price! Love 1 } catholic when it is apostolic and can ut-. J er Wesley's "All the world is my parish." * 'he methodical in God's service are the J onquerore. Oh, let me sny to you Wesley's great 1 ext, "Seek ye the Lord while He may be ( >und; call ye upon Him while He is near!" ! Emulate such a man! And considering J he issue of a totally surrendered Jife, imi- ^ ate its faith. It is success. It is triumph. 1 t is attainable. Let me quote Wesley'*. , ymn: Give to the winds thy fearsHone and be undismayed; God hears thy sighs and counts thy tears? God shall lift up thy head." Blnfl* one Blunt. Just because the machinery of life is bo pt to be heated one keenly appreciates nose who are ever deftly pouring the eoolig oil by their patience, their tact, their weetness and their sympathy. And one ' esents keenly that class of people who are onest and well meaning, but who are peristently discourteous and not ashamed. I lean the man who is credited with what ( i called a bluff, blunt manner, and who ( redits himself with a special qualitv of ownrightness and straightforwardness, [e considers it far better to say what be hinks and boasts that he never minces his ords, and people make all kinds of exuses for him. and rather talk as if he were v VTA y 11AJC iCiiU >? . UW1UC W IlUiU HI VIA bjJUACU ersons were little better than hypocrites. As a matter of fact, no one can calculate be pain this outspoken gentleman causes i a single day, both in his family and outide. Nor have I ever been able to undertand why he is praised, or even tolerated, nd why he is not sharply dealth with as n offender against the social peace. He is aid to deal faithfully with any person hom he disapproves; it would be right to ay he deals insolently, and what is called nthfulness is generally unpardonable imudence. "His bark," it ir. said, "is worse han his bite," and one hopes that it may e, but I do not see what consolation there 3 for me when this ill-mannered person arks at my heels in the fact that he had ot also bitten me. I object to hia barknjcr, and if he persists I am justified in sing a stick. No man has any right to :cture hia neighbor, or to intrude upon is neighbor's privacy, or to wound his eighbor's feelings, and when he does so a his role of the plain BDoken men then e ought to be made to understand the diference between reality and rudeness, and e taught to keep a civil tongue in his ead.?Tan Maclaren, in the Christian Eneavor World. Popular Gospel is Wrong. The most popular gospel of to-day is the ospel of "Don't worry." The calendars nd gift books are full of daily mottoes to he general effect that one should cast off 11 care, fear nothing, live for to-day, let he other man do the worrying, and it will 11 be the 6ame in a hundred years. But no great transforming movement has ver been inaugurated on such a platform, 'here is nothing calculated to stir men leeply to action, to heroism, to sacrifice, a the announcement that their fears are roundless, and that all is well. Joined nth the very tenderness of Jesus is ever he note of warning, and His message is iot complete without it. The old doctrine f hell was very crude and very false, and et it was infinitely nearer the truth than. his modern "Don't worry" philosophy, rhich ignores the real dingers that conront the human soul and tells us that evil 3 simply the result of our fears. It makes . world of difference to a man's religion whether he takes up with that smooth gos- , iel or whether he gives heed to Jesus /hrist speaking of the dangers of the hunan soul. The degeneration of character \ rhich greed or jealousy, or cowardice, or luplicity, or cynicism, or sensuality, or ny other violation of vital law brings is omethin? whose sprion.anp.es hpromes more vident the closer we get to it. It is not . matter of faith, but of absolute know]* 1 dge.?The Rev. W. B. Thorp. Abiding in Christ. The Rev. Dr. R. A. Torrey, in speaking if "Abiding in Christ," said: "To abide in 'hrist is to renounce any independent life if our own, to give up trying to think our houghts, form our resolutions, or cultivate iur feelings, and look simply and constant' y to Christ, to think His thoughts in un., orm His purposes in us, to feel Hin emoions and affections in us. It is to relounce all life independent of Christ, and ook to Him for the inflow of His life unto is, and the ou'working of His life through is. When we do this, anc1 in so far as we lo this, our prayers will obtain that which ??i. ( n^,i " occa ii uin u'ju. Aim at the Uest. It is a strange but inflexible spiritual law hat those who aim at anything short of he best according to their conception, as Jod has given them light, will sooner or iter come to grief. It is merely a matter ft \ime.?Charles II. Brent. HE GREAT DESTROTEB IOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. 'k? Road to a Drunkard's Grave is a Hard One to Travel?Th? Average Inebriate Is Devoid of Manhood, a Stranger to Troth and Full of Deception. Shall I ask to be excused for once gain writing on a subject that I have" written upon scores of scores of times beore? No! It is my mission to call upon he drunkard to renent of his wa^'s and ease to get arunK, ana aiso to can upon he drunkard makers to cease to do evil md learn to do well. For some reason God will.not let me lone when I am .slow to call attention to he evils of the liquor traffic. He /brings bout worriment, and sometimes I am irought into contact with events that lake my blood boil with indignation, rhen I am willing to write my hatred of he traffic and tell the whole truth conerning it. I want all mankind to be persuaded to et intoxicants alone: and if I had the lower I would compel every inhabitant of his globe by law to do what they cannot le persuaded to do. My doctrine is, otal abstinence for the individual and >rohibition for the States and Nations. The drunkard is to be pitied; for he is a lave to the drink habit and suffers the itfnra of hell. He is bound in chains that tola him in bondage even when he calls ipon God and hi3 friends to believe him vhen he says, "Let these bonds be oosed!" I have seen the drunkard when he ooked as pale as death, when he realized hat he was going from bad to worse as ast as noseible. when he felt that he was orsaken and despised by all his friends, ind when even his own mother had ceased o ask his father to forgive him. The drunkard's lot is a fearful one. The fires, of hell burn within him. He ocasionally feels the need of positively givng up drinking; but his appetite stifles lis good wishes. He drinks knowing its vil effects. While his eyes are weeping n account of his sorrows he pours down lis throat the liquid damnation that is the ause of his sorrows. The road to the drunkard's grave is a lard one to travel. On each side are harp-shooters firing darts at him. Every ittle while he is shot by them, and goes long limping from the wounds he has r#eived. If it were not for the fact that he poor drunkard must meet his God unprepared in another world, it would be a nercy if he should die to save him from ore punishment on earth. ^ The average drunkard is cevoid of mantood?he is a stranger to the truth and ull of deception. Under the most solemn ibligations to reform he will pay no heed o them. What he says is not worth tak* ng any stock in. He will abuse the conidence of his .best friends and smite the land that is extended toward him in riendship. His sweet wife has not the inluence over him that one of hfs loafer lompanions in sin has. Drink haa hard;nea his heart, blasted his reputation and nade him only a fit companion of those wli/% r?r?a oa OO Kp ifl Will imile at you one moment and threaten to vhip you the next moment- Of course here are exceptions to this description of ;he chronic drunkard. How to deal with the drunkard is a lard problem to solve. A mixture of iindness and an iron hand is about the >est application to be applied to such /an >ne. Have you ever tried to subdue and train i drunkard to behave better? If you have lot you are not the one to properly iudge he best methods to improve him. What ;he drunkard most needs is to hear the ;hunders of Mount Sinai and to feel the ove of Him who died on Calvary. In >ther words. Law and Love. God gave to nan Mount Sinai before Calvary. Why. it 8 not my business to try to explain. The jaw was a schoolmaster to bring even Paul to Christ. While few men have a more tender leart for the miserable drunkard, yet I nust say that too often love is lost on lim, for I* is like casting pearls before iwine. Young men. if -ou want to feel the tornents of bell while on this earth, be a > 1 J J ?111 - -A C.I lrunxaru uuu juu win juui uu. Better for a man or woman not to be lorn than to become addicted to that vhich steals away the brains of its victims ind gives only pain and remorse in return. J -George R. Scott, in the New York Witless. Some Striking Words. In all parts of the city of Paris, amid the other official placards and notices (some of which are gayly printed in red, white and blue) is a large white poster with clear black type, bearing the striking words, "Alcoholism; Its Dangers," in faring headlines. The wording of this inique placard is in part as follows: "It is i mistake to say that alcohol is neceslary for workmen who engage in arduous abor, that it gives encouragement to the work, or that it builds up the forces; the irtificial stimulus that it brings about juickly gives place to nervous depression ind weakness; in reality, alcohol is useful to no one, it is harmuful to all. The habit . )f drinking brings in its train loss of affection for one's family, forgetfulnees of all jocial. duties, distaste for work, misery, robbery, and crime. It leads, at least, to the hospital; for alcoholism begets the most various/'and deadly maladies. With reference to the health of the individual. the existence of the lamj.y, ana ine iuiure jf the country, alcoholism is one of the most terrible scourges." 9 ????? A Fundamental Onentlon. While the motives which influence peN ions to become total abstainers are various, some renounce drink for its own 6ake. and some abstaining for the sake of others. Still there is a fundamental question on which these motives depend. Why is it that "moderate drinking" so often leads to drunkenness as to make it desirable that the sober part of the community thould abstain for the sake of their weaker arethren? That the judges of our land attribute three-fourths of the crime brought aefore them to drink? That position, education, nay, even religion itself,- is no guarmtee that he who drinks at aJl may not Decome a drunkard? The intoxicating element in all fermented and distilled liquors, be they wine, beer, spirits or eider, is alcohol. Various ideas have prevailed at different times as to the mode of action of ilcohol, but the highest verdict is that it is poison. A Gonri Woman'* KruaT). Mrs. John A. Logan, speaking of the> Jrinking habits of women, in a recent article says: "I do Tiot like to admit that any woman ever indulged in such lamentable Iiabits. but must succumb to the induhitable evidence that is before us continually, ind can only bow my head for very shame Tor my sex. and pray 'Father, foreive them, for they know not what they do.' " Tim Crn?M<l?; In Brief. The devil is delighted to see young men spend their time in the grog shop. Liquor dealers and users of intoxicants ire barred from holding office in Ohio cities. The Rev. Francis E. Clark, in a comparison of America with other countries nlong the line of temperance and other reforms. has a message of good cheer for tlii<? country. Never before in history ..as there heen so much agitation against the business, not only by the cver-nrescnt temperance agitator, but by men high in public and professional life, who are known to be men with liberal ideas. The soldier is engaged, educated and paid for the performance of duties which he cannot perforin ii he undermines 111s health and strength by drink. In India and other tropical climates, men who lose control of themselves through drink expose themselves to the hot rays ot the noonday tun and bccome prostrated, possibly to be hopeless imbeciles for the rest of their wearisome exist ence. There are no medical specifies for the cure of inebriety. The true and only remedy is complete abstinence from the poison, and this can only be done by enforced discinline and tieatment in an institution appointed for the purpose.?Dr. Russell, on the Causes of Insanity, in the Canada Practitioner. . > THE RELIGIOUS LIFB ' , \ READINC FOR THE QUIET HOUR I WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF; Poem: How About It Now?-Tme Sue- j ccsa as Described by the Late Rev. Dr. George H. Hepworth in the New York .Herald's Editorial Sunday Sermon. xou intend to ao so many tmngs? Sometime you will endow j The needy, with your gifts and deeds, But how about it now? You expect to help the poor, distressed. You are debating how To best assist and save and bless, But how about it now? You're going to ease the breaking forma That Tow with burdens bow, Because of envy's grasping greed, But how about it now; You're going to do, expect, intend, Will this the Christ allow? What will you say when He shall ask But how aBout it now? . ?Willis Brown. ' Religion's Essential Element. There is an old saw which tells us that nothing succeeds like success, which is another way of saying that success vindicates its own methods. The statement is false and misleading, and as an incentive to youtn it is wnouy disastrous. 10 put a disregard of the means employed into a 1 young man's mind and so convince him , that if he accomplishes his purpose the * world will ask nothing more, is to wound 1 him as fatally as though you drove a knife ' into his heart. 1 In very truth, there is a kind of ap- j parent success which spells defeat, and a ' kind of apparent failure, which is reckoned 1 success in Heaven. In other words, the best J thing for a man is to be manly always. A ' lie is apt to come home to sleep and bring 1 with it a large brood of unpleasant mem- J ories, and the man who cheats cheats him- \ self out of more than he cheats his neigh- : bor. To be straightforward is worth some- , thing, and especially in times when temp tations are both many and strong. It is a beautiful world and at the same j time an almost cruel world. That is to , say, it is governed by law, and the law is j inexorable. There are no circumstances 1 under which you can gather figs from thistles. The universe is built on the basis . of honesty, and dishonesty finds no nook , or corner in which to Wde itself. You . may demur at this and tell me that many a rozue is haDDV. that many a man deals < in crooked measures and has the respect . of the community. I doubt both propositions. Men are measured pretty accurate- j ]y in the long run, and a man is not likely . to wear bis neart on his sleeve and pro- j claim his regrets. The world has not yet , been turned upside down. Every man f loses unless his life is square. Eternal j logic runs in that direction. Wrong is al- ( ways wrong and right is always right. If , you look at life from that standpoint you . are safe; if not, you are in danger. j Beneath a man's reputation, which is j sometimes a mere mask with false features, , is his character, his real self. If that is j not upright he )ias a hornets' nest in his ^ soul and he is being stung to death. He is < not at peace with himself, is not content, is not happy, and cannot be happy. If this is \ not true, then we have- made a mistake in j our conpeption of God. I do not care for \ what that man seems to be, nor for what , he poses as being, nor yet for what the | people say he is?he has trampled on his ' immortal nature, has misdirected his ener- j gies, and until you can find figs on thistles ] he will not be satisfied with himself. As j I (n-r- oo + oacf id frnm fhs TVPot- ?o far is 1 he from what God and nature intended j him to be. j Strip off his wealth, tear down his social and commercial position, lay bare his in- i most soul, and what do you find? Any ma- < ] terial on whicfi to build a character fit for j Heaven? And yet unless a man lives for j Heaven he does not live at all. This little i life, a mere hand's breadth of time, is as ] nothing. It is the eternity ahead of us that j gives significance to the present, and it is i a man's fitness for Heaven which stamps ? him as real gold or counterfeit coin. It is i not what we appear to be here, but what j we shall honestly be when we get there, I that counts. The day after death, when ] we leave all these trappings behind us, . life's falsities and wrongs will tell the ] story. Earth fading away in the distance, ' immortality looking us in the face, asking ] us who we are ana what we are?then we j shall step on the scales and be weighed. ] If we are found to be just and true and i loyal the angels will be glad to welcome us, < but if we bring Aothing but our misdeeds ] we shall be pitied because of the great mistake we have made. God's blessing on a \ man's honest life will be worth more than I the whole world's wealth. 1 The first thing for a reasonable human j being to do, therefore, is to get into har- i mony with the universe, ana the second J is to stay there. In that statement is included tne essential element of religion. I It marks an ascending grade from the ' lower to the higher altitude of mind, until j nt Inst we step across the grave into ' Heaven. Nothing eciuals in value a noble 1 life. Live weD. then, live nobly: live for ' others, as the blessed Christ dia. When you go leave this old earth a little better I i'or your having been in it. Guard your 1 peace of mind, which is the best of all 1 treasures; walk humbly doing the Lord's 1 will, and you will have nothing to complain 1 of here or hereafter. There you have your creed, a short one, indeed, but quite long enough for vour purpose.?George H. Hep- j worth, in the New York Herald. The Star of Frogreu. Self-complacency permits no progress. That indefatigable Sunday-school Field J Worker, the lamented William Reynolds, , used to say that it was his business to , travel all over rhe country to make people j dissatisfied with themselves. But he wad : | not therefore a cynic nor a destructive , critic, for he held up an ideal to strive for; Churches as well as individuals sometime^ < | become dangerously self-complacent. ltl , J is a good thing to smile, to look oh tha j bright side, and to praise effort. But it , i..nnnnc tn lio aiwavs nraiainff one's < self. An institution has a personality as truly as lias the individual, and one as much as the other may retrograde through self-satisfaction. A college, a hospital, a church, a Sunday-school, a nation, a ma* ?each, "hitch your wagon to a star." The Jlewnrd of Faltb. The reward of faith will be in proportion to the tesr.3 which it has successfully endured. The promises of God were enlarged to Abraham after he went from his country and his kindred, not knowing whither he went. They were enlarged again after he had offered Isaac upon the altar. So will it be with every one. As the field of promise enlarges so will be the blessed reward f to trie believer when he shall experience in the future the blessed results of his faith in the promises fulfilled to him. i ? Being Ready. Character must be well equipped. Jesus )> meant us to learn that lesson when He t spoke the parable of the king who would <3 not make war until he had first sat down F and taken counsel as to his preparations, v Shall we hope to speak the forceful word v without the steady discipline of earnest t thinking? Shall we teach without prepar- h in^? Snail our faith be firm in the day of t need if we have not laiu its foundations e 1 Tf. ifl I T deep iii l iic uujr ui vm.j.vt . ""if just as rash to sing "Onward, Christian Sol- I 1 diers," with poor preparation, as it would t bo to charge a fort with broomsticks ia- 8 i~ead of riefls. . r ^ Fell Nearly a Thousand Feet. A singular tragedy of the Alps is reported by the Geneva correspondent of the London Express. It seems that Dr. Bauer, P a professor of geology, accompanied a ? party of ten gentlemen, three of whom ? were Englishmen, on an early morning ex- 11 cursion on the Risserkogel, the intention v being to celebrate after old traditions the y June Fire. On arriving at the top of the * mountain they lighted a big lire, and were brewing a bowl of punch when Dr. Bauer, v who was standing near a precipice behind ? the fire, suddenly disappeared. A search * party was at once dispatched, and after some hours the terribly mutilated "body of the professor was found in a gorge 900 feet below. _ mJ_ . . . ,f 6 - l - . diLni _ [HE SUNDAY SCHOOL 1 NTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR AUGUST 9. ' 19 Subject: David and Goliath, 1 Sam. *?H* ~ mF 38-49 ?Golden Text, ltom. Tilt.. 31? jifrj Memory Terse*. 45-47 ? Commentary "1 on the Day's Lesson: ] I. David offers to fight Goliath (va. 32* 17). The giant, Goliatn, who came out a* ~;.$m :he champion of the Philistines, belong^ . J M tne primitive race 01 mc nuaMiu, w? ^ which the Israelites bad found a small remnant at th4 time of the conquest, four rajfl lundred years before (Num. 13:32, 33, Josh. 14r!2). These, driven out by tlW jKM Israelites, attached themselves to the Phftf stines; and Goliath appears to have been )ne of a family of giants, all of whom were ilain by Davia ana his men (2 Sam. 21:Ilk '"rjP 22). Goliath's height has been variously :stimated at from nine to eleven feet. Hm ' f irmor is estimated to have weighed about v 157 pounds; while the head of his spear wj veighed about nineteen pounds. In tnoM $* > ;imes great size and strength and armor ivere of immeasurable advantage in battle. ~ & ' This armed and plumed giant defied the irmies of Israel morning and evening fo* v4g } iorty days. His appearance sent dismay 'Mj nto the hearts of Saul and his people. ?y| NTone of Saul's soldiers-dared to fight with \m Jim, for no one could overcome him with. '1 ;he ordinary weapons of war. But ju*t + it this point David appeared on the scene, ind, much to the astonishment of Saul, :;m )5ered to champion the cause of Israel ind go out and meet the Philistine. II. The weapons chosen (vs. S8-40). 38j ';,WB ffl. "His armor." The word for "armor? 93 n the Revised Version is "apparel?' Prob- fMH ibly a special military dress adapted to be . D xrnrn vnth armor. "Coat of mail." The 1 m indent Hebrews were particularly atten~;ive to the personal safety of their war? ^ riors. The coat of mail was usually made )f leather or some pliant material, sometimes covered with metallic scales, and - v'- 'v lapable of taking the form of the part* -S >f the body it protected. "Assayed io go." 3 Endeavored to go. By making the attempt > yr ' *, David showed nis courtesy and deference ">s :o his superiors. "Cannot go with these." rhe shrewd, practical sense of David id? nonished him of the folly of attempting mch a combat with weapons with whicfi ' , ic had no skill. He is a wise man who oiows what he cannot do as well as what jh ae can. "Put them off." This waa Kke- ^ wise from tne juora, wno wuuiu u?c Me * nade manifest that His servant fought and V. -1 :onquered by faith, and that the victory.- * waa from Him, who works by the moM . ^tf tr iespised means and instruments. 1 ? , 40. "His staff.'" His shepherd's crook* j Tive smooth stones." ,Had they been > rough or angular, they would not have I passed easily through the air, and the oughnees would, in the course of their J Dassage. have given them a false direev J ;ion. Had they not been smooth, they, JE :ould not have been readily sent from the im iling. "Shepherd's bag." Used to carry. lis daily food. "Sling." A favori^ reaponf )f Eastern shepherds. It was also ?very iffective in war, and vas regulariy em- * ?" 1 cloyed, not onlv by the Israelite troops. { Dut also by the Syrians, the Egyptians ana -> \ Hp Pprmnns. The sling is composed of two ' - 1 strings and a leathern strap. The strap J in the middle, and is the place where >' J the stone lies. The string on the right ; J md of the strap is firmly fastened to the , I band. The string on the left is held be- 'j??| iween the thumb and middle ioint of the 'ore-finger. It is then whirled two oe^^H :hree times round the head, and when' dffl iischarged, the finger and thumb let go:...s|W their hold of the left end of the atrhig. ? The sling wa? a formidable weapon in the M nand of a skilful person. A stone could JW ae hurled with a velocity that would make tizftr it as fatal as a rifle-ball. It was a very . lomraon weapon in David's time. Seven"^ : . j aundred left-handed Benjamites could .-railing at a hair's breadth^md not miss. l -iS.3 III. David and Goliath meet (vs. 41-47). r?-5fJ H-43. "Philistine came on." Goliath. "m. |?li* lis shining armor, with his dreadful clafrk-rgBs ng tramp under the nundredweight of netal." "Looked about." He scanned thef.-jj|r? whole scene, and could hardly persuade &&''< limaelf that this boy was Israel i champion. "Disdained him." Goliath seemed nsulted that sued & young uuumcu is David should approach him. "Am . X ? i dog." He hurls a thrust at David, suggesting that he knew no more than to con- M| trol his shepherd dog, and ignorantly supposed he could be as successful with him* J Pride goeth before destruction, and a iaughty spirit before a fall (Prov. 16:18). tfjr si; "By his gods." These gods were such M <5" Dagon, Baal and Astarte. Tjie combat thus became a question not merely between ' ,'s David and Goliath, but between God and idols. If Goliath was successful then idol- I itry would gain a stronger hold upon th* *1 45. "Come to me." He dam David ''vj to venture near, declaring he will exhibit". {*>?j bis great strength in pulling him into., pieces. It was common when two chain- :'? < pions met that each should make a speech' < l to the other, and thus Goliath scorned * the shepherd boy. "Then said David." yf ~ There was no mistake about their coming together. It was intended. David spoke .'?! : with as much assurance as did GoliAth. >y. i md felt no shame because of the contrast between their authority. Nothing can . / exceed the modesty, the faith; the piety ind the zeal for the glory of God ana the . J? :au8e of Israel and of true religion, which ilow in this most beautiful speech. "Hast , 3efied." David trusted in the God whoni Soliath defied and relied upon Him a* I safely as Goliath did upon his sword and M spear and physical power. . fl| 46, 47. "Will the Lord deliver." This A *-!*> Wo cam thft '''9 was tne language 01 mnu. B ?icry to God in advance. "Earth may inou " Here the language is prophetic ind rises above that immediate occasion ind declares how other nations and times H shall hear of that day's victory and shall H rive God the glory. "This assembly/' V Da\id speaks as if it were a gathering for , S worship instead of a battle array. He yU iddresses himself to thin combat, rather j is a priest going to offer a sacrifice to the . j I iustice of God, than as a soldier going to I I mirage an enemy of his country. ; 11 IV. Goliath slain (vs. 4S-54J. 48, 49. ft I 'Arose and came." Goliath saw that his ? I :hallenge was accepted, though scorning ''.W x) fight with David, yet he advanced to V neet him in great pretense to dignity. 'David hasted. He did not t~y to make i display of his power. He was intent I >n being instant in season, and advanced j :o do real execution. He could not wait~^ H 'or Goliath to strike the first blow. That ' rvould be presumption. When each ad ?mMt fhp other, it was Dropor jo make the attack. "In his forehead." it does cot appear that the ancient hel- I nets had any covering for the face. The I Jeptuagint supposes that the stone passed I ;hrougn the helmet, and sank into hir S 'orehead. I 50-54. David then ran and took the H rword of Goliath and cut off the head of he giant. As soon as the Philistines saw . ffl hat .their champion was dead they &d in I jreat terror. ?lectrtcir> from Tides. ' A scheme has been proposed for obtain- i ng electricity for use either at the Central jM Station or among a special class of consum- ^Hj r.s in the neighborhood of Dandee; Scotind, in connection with the docks of that ^ B own. If the plan should be adopted the * I locks would cease to be used for the pur- I iose for which they were designed, 50d kUUlU UtJ IViTUtUUil ovw UUM vwv w*. rhich the tidal water would flow, driving urbines. It is stated that for sixteen lours a uav 220 horse power could be ob- : ained in tfiis way from the two docks. It tiust be remcmlt?red. however, that the '' icriod each day during which power can ie obtained varies witn the 3tate of the ide, and tLat it is most unlikely any conumer of power could be found who would equire it only during the siiteea hours in -j ucstion. ______ r*:*M New J?ailroa<l Mileage. ! I The figures of new railroad mileage com- > I leted during the first half of 1903 show I hat the greatest extension was in Okla- > J oma, 240 mi!e&; next Texas, with 205 ' K ailes, and third, the Indian Territory, I rith 203 mile9. All of the older States I rere behind these, even New York report-^ j rig only two miles and a half of new road. -JH ?he figures indicate that the principal rail- jgflj ray extensions duiin:* the next few years nil probably be in tiie Southwestern and H JnrflnvpB+prn Shitpc Common Metliod of Snlclde. B Shooting is the rao.it popular racthod of S