The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 19, 1903, Image 6
If LUKE
II THE ft
UMBBVBBBBOBnHBnHBKBni
11 By Prof. Wrti. Henry Pe
S | Author of the "The Stone-Cuttei
II of Lisbon," Etc.
CHAPTER XXIX 3
Continued. j
"Will this persuade you?" said Hammond,
showing a well filled purse. All- 3
day shook his head. There were too
many witnesses.
"Since gold fails," said Hammond, i
"will this persuade you, Tom Allday?"
* Hammond drew a pistol and cocking ?
It levelled it right between Allday's i
eyes.
The cowardly wretch trembled, a"hdhis
knees bent under him. All fear of
the future -fled before the imminent
pern ui tue prcseuu
"To 6ave?to save my life I must!" (
he stammered. *
Hammond was enraged at this unex- 1
pected hesitation, and slapping All- J
day's face smartly he cried: *
"Begin! We are wasting time!"
At that moment John Marks entered '
the crimson chamber, and after him 1
came Charles Hummond.
"My son! In New York!" exclaimed 1
Hammond, starting back. "John *
Marks, you are a traitor." 1
He raised his pistol, for he was des* s
perate, when Charles sprang before 1
the weapon, exclaiming: 1
"Wait! Let John Marks speak!" '
"I told you," said Marks, in a clear, i
ttrone voice, "that Harriet Foss had S
ceased to exist. In one sense she did;
for at 12 o'clock to-day she became the
-wife of this young man."
"The wife of my son!" cried Hamanond,
staring wildly.
"My wife," said Charles boldly. "This
morning I learned that Mme. Burr,
the woman I loved, was in town. I
eluded the vigilance of Mr. Marks and
Bought her. I found her at the Astor
House. I did not believe what you had
aid against her character. I asked
tier to become my wife. She is my
Wife."
"Infatuated fool!" cried Hammond.
"I will disinherit you!"
Charles smiled scornfully and said:
' "I am rich in my wife. Behold her!"
!As he spoke a lady of splendid figure,
trat deeply veiled, entered the'crimson
chamber from the ante-room, where,
*ui men, sue naa remained^ aner 101- (
lowing Marks so far.
"I was Harriet Foss!" said she, unfiling
and displaying a most lovely
iace, upon which the passage of more
than forty years had left no disfiguring
marks.
"Ah! my heart!" shrieked Nancy
Harker, sinking upon her knees In terror.
Hammond was too much aghast to
?peak. Everything around him seemed
reeling. He staggered back until the
I' iwrali upheld him.
"And my promise is redeemed," said
John Marks esultingly. "For I show
you the body of Harriet ^oss."
"You come for vengeance, Harriet
Foss!" said Hammond, recovering and
matching for a chance to escape, and
to avenge, too.
"My husband," said Harriet, placing
her hand in that of Charles, "has per- 1
suaded me to leave my sister's wrongs
to the justice of heaven. I firmly believe
you and your sister murdered (
my sister, but I have not sought ven- 1
geance, as you have been led to sup- t
pose. Mr. Marks has deceived you for (
purposes of his own. It is at bis ear- *
nest desire that I am here. I believe
Mr. Marks has depicted me to you as ^
a tigress. He has told you I even dis- 3
guised myself in this city to trace you
out. I have done nothing of tie kind. 1
Mr. Marks had his reasons for deceiving
you. I met him on the steamer in t
coming to this country. He recognized
me first. He had learned :2 England 5
that I loved Cbarles and that Charles <
loved me. He built a plot upon that
knowledge. He knew Charles was to i
marry me after obtaining the consent f
of his father. He suspected you to be (
Boland Dunn before he came to New 1
Sork; I did not."
"Ah! you did not?" said Hammond. 1
"I did not," continued.Harriet. "I :
Aid not suspect tbat Cbarles was the ;
eon of Roland Dunn when I married 1
him. Charles came to me and be- i
bought me to marry him. It is true I
am much older than he, but he loves ]
me and I love him. He is my hus- (
iband; I shall be his devoted wife. As
to wealth, I have more than enough.
As to vengeance, I leave that to heav?n."
"May its bitterest curse cling to you
Troth!" cried Hammond.
"By what right do you curse me?"
"demanded Charles. "John Marks,
peak."
"Luke Hammond," said Marks, "you
tempted me to do a crime. You offered
me as a reward a son?a son 1
-had supposed dead. I told you many
tales to increase my importance in
your eyes at first, afterwards I told
you more to achieve the solution of n
suspicion. You curse that young man!
He is not your son!"
"Ah!" screamed Nancy, and would
have fled from the room, but her
limbs were powerless.
"Charles not my son!" said Hamxoond.
"No! You sought to trick me," cried
Marks. "I owe you no good will.
*Twas you who committed the burglary
for which I suffered so many
years. We are even now. You have
a brave plot going on here. I shall
not interfere. Charles is my son. Ask
his mother there. You would like to
eee yours? See hia portrait!"
John Marks tossed the picture of the
Idiot upon the floor.
Hammond raised it, stared at it, let
It fall, and leaning towards Nancy Har
ker, ns he knelt in pallid terror, said in
> m voice ll?te a hiss:
"Nancy Marker, uiy heart is turning
to gall! Say Johu Marks lies!"
"Ah, Roland, forgive me!" cried
**ancy.
"For what? Tell me for what?" said
Sgf,
5^v:
VMMOND, *1 j
USER.. I
ck, I Copyright 1896, | |jj
I by Sobui Boknkb'b Sokb. I B
$ <AU rights reserved.) /In
Elammond. "Tell me that John Marks
les! Tell me that, Nancy Harker.
Let fortune, liberty?life?all go to
ruin?but tell me that John Marks
ies!"
"I cannot! 'Tis your son who is the
diot," said Nancy.
"Traitoress!" cried Hammond, and
is quick as lightning he shot a ball
nto his sister's breast.
"At them, Daniel!" he continued.
'They hold our lives in their hands!
rhey are two only!"
Mle nictnl r>i'nrkf>r1 acnln and John
Marks staggered back wounded, but
Irawing his pistol; and then, with
i crash, James Green leaped through
:he skylight, and fell upon the bed,
crushing it to the floor, but on his feet
n a second.
As Greene fell, Elgin sprang at Danel,
and prostrated him with a blow
from his iron rod.
Hammond stared in perfect horror
for a moment at the pale and angry
face of the young carpenter, whom
je thought he had murdered, and then
shrieking in terror of he knew not
;vhat, rushed at the door, got out, and
3ed along the hall pursued by James
Greene and John Marks, the latter carrying
a lantern he had snatched from
Stephen when coming into the house.
"If I can reach the street," thought
Hammond, as he fled, "I may escape,
rhere is a way through the old store oom?the
farther door enters into an
)ld cellar and that has a window openng
into the back street."
He fled to the trap that led into the
aasement of the other house, and
aughed to think that life and liberty
ivould still be his. His momentary
:error at the Eudden appearance of
lames Greene had passed away.
"He managed to escape," thought
rlammond, as he groped his way In
)itchy darkness. "The noises old Fan
leard were the efforts of James Greene
:o escape. Spirits! Ghosts! Nonsense!"
He reached the old store-room, rushed
n, and was bruised by the "barrels and
joxes old Fan had piled over the traploor.
Swearing fiercely, Hammond bejan
to clamber over the great heap.
3e was at its top when the trap-door,
io longer sustained by the strong bolt,
ind unable to uphold his -weight, added
o that of the Boxes, gave way, and
ie felt himself sinking downward with
he rubbish.
"Ah! The trap! The trap has
[alien?" he shrieked, and struggling to
scape, \jv-r-, But
he "was fast jammed in the heap;
ind as he plunged, raved and fought,
lie mass sank down at once, and let
lirn fall feet foremost iuto the deep,
lark well. He sank into the mud,
ioze and slime up to his chin; and
he well above his head, and around
lim, was filled with empty boxes and
sarrels, through which his sirfieks,
urses and groans resounded hour after
lour, for his pursuers thought he had
;scaped.
Shall we linger upon this awful
loathV Shall we speak of his impotent
lattling with four-footed, sharpoothcd,
ravenous foes?the avengers
)f his dead wives, of his mother, of his
:atber, and of his sister?
No. We have seen the last of Roland
Dunn; or, as we have known-him,
Luke Hammond.
Nancy Harker died the same night, of
nternal hemorrhage.
And so tbe prediction of the dream of
liese two evil ones was fulfilled:
"Beware of Harriet Foss! When she
shall meet ye, and ye shall know eacli
jtlier, ye die!"
Before the dawn of day, Kate Elgin
ecovered from tbe effects of the drug
>he had swallowed, and was looked in
he embrace of her brave and worthy
over, and of her now happy father.
Mr. Allday made his escape during
:he tumult, but was dreadfully torn
md bitten by the savage dogs in the
i*ard before he gained the street. What
became of him afterwards we know
lot.
Daniel and Stephen also escaped, as
[lenry Elgin wished the affair to he
L-oneealed, and for that reason never
ippeared in New York after his deliverance,
but settled in the West with
Liis daughter and son-in-law, James
Greene, where all of them now live
in perfect earthly happiness.
Charles and Harriet, with Johi
Marks, returned to England, where
John Marks reformed, and emulated
the virtues of his son, until bis peaceful
death a few years ago.
THE END.
Earth's Disturbance*.
Mother earth lias evidently started
in this year to break all records during
historic times of gigantic destructive
disturbances.
For the first half of the year we
have to charge her uuusual restlesstt.
IfK A Q f 1/1A ../tlnnnln
"uu io,juv uvea uuuu^u iuiuujv,
eruptions and earthquakes. Her tornadoes
have hurled 465 human beings
out of existence, and cyclones have
added 240 more to the list, while
other storms in great numbers, but of
less dignity In name, have placed 720
lo the direct accouut of violent winds.
Floods have swept 345 persons from
life, tidal waves have drowned 110
and waterspouts have destroyed 15.
To all of this we must add 283 lives
charged to the destructive fore? of
avalanches and snow slides, and we
have a total of 51,078; an astounding
mortality from tbesc tierce agencies
of destruction in one-half of a year.
Worldly Wimlorn.
Fromptness Is often a mistake. If
you do not believe it, recall the fate
of the early worm. Many men have
succeeded because tliev hesitated at
the light time.?New York News.
*
A SERMON FOR SUNDAY
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLEI
"THE J?Y OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE."
The Kev. I)r. Georgp I). AdnniF ?oll? c
the Spiritual Uplifting Which Abiilf
With Th?se Who Walk Constantly Wit
<i?(l?PleHHtirc in Christian Suflering.
Kf.wYorkCitv.?When Rev.Dr. Geo JJ
Adams, the new pastor of the First #af
tist Church, Lee avenue and Keap streel
prcached his first sermon as pastor of th
church, he selected for his text: Hebrew
xii: 1 and 2: "Therefore, let us also, seem
we are compassed about with so great
cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weigh
and the sin which is admired by many am
let us run with patience the race that i
6et before us, looking unto .Tesus, the an
thor and perfecter of our faith; who, fo
the joy that was before Him. endured th
cross, despised the shame and hath sa
down at tne right hand of the throne o
God" (N. V.), and said:
A very casual observer could easily tel
that many Christians have lost the jov c
the Christian service which they once nad
It takes no scholar, nor, indeed, a critic, o
Christian life or human living to soe tha
manv, who one day rejoiced with "ue
spea^able joy" in the service of Jesu
Christ, are to-day indifferent. Indeed, w
ourselves find some times, when to come t
the house of God is a burden, and we dra
a weary body'or reluctant soul into th
presence of the Almighty and try to woi
shin Him in the "beauty of holiness." W
- * i U
find again ana again, it we buuuiu iouu>
the inclination of our -hearts and mind
that we should stay at home. But thos
are new experiences comparatively. One
we could give up any pleasure for ar. hou
with God, and when to have ?.een in Hi
presence and feel that He was hearing us
to enjoy the touch of kindred spirits; t
have enjoyed the song and the prayer ani
the service, out of God's heart, would hav
been better to us than riches and mor
precious than fine gold. But that is gone
We find ourselves sometimes coming b(
c-.use we think we ought; doing this o
that service because it is customary; entei
ing into this form or that because it is
habit to do so, and in the saner -.oment
of our conscience we come sometimes t
say: "Why is this so?" Has God changed
Has the power of the old gospel to all(
viate human life of its brudens and suffei
ings gone? Is there less of power and eff
cacy in the saving grace of Jesus Chris
now than once? After all, is God's servic
really and truly at bottom nothing but
drudgery? Or, has something taken plac
with us? Have we left behind 6omethin
vtp nnfo Had and have we passed beyon
that moment of exultant spirit when in th
presence of Jesus our heart bounded wit
the joy of a new faith an'd the experienc
of salvation? Well, we are perfectly sur
GoJ has not changed. We are perfectl
eure Jesus is "the same, yesterday, to-da
and forever." We have not a doubt tha
the old gospel will save men to-day, an.
when we come to think of it after all i
not the matter of being 6aved a subject c
just as much joy in the twentieth centui*
as in the first century? Has there bee:
any change in the attitude of the gospel
We are bound to confess 'here has bee
none, and if that is true, then the troubl
is with us. Somewhere we have lost some
thing, and I am looking into faces thi
morning that know better than I do, i
their experience, that that something i
the priceless treasure of Christian hope
Now. to get that back. When I was
bov I wept when first I saw the wrinkle
coming on my mother's face. I wante
her to remain always young, and there ar
thousands df Christian hearts, some repr<
fiented here, doubtless, that have wept a
the loss of their Christian experience?it i
dead, joy is gone. Oh, what would we giv
to get it back! I am persuaded that w
would give a great deal to get it back, bu
T nm mnrp fViorniichlv nersuaded that th
way to get it back is to get into the att
tude of life that makes it constant. Th
beat thing i6 not to get back the Christia;
experience of years ago. but to get into th
attitude of life that makes that expcrienc
perennial.
I am going, therefore, to discuss th
sources of joy. The thing that most lie
behind that experience and the first thin
that confronts the Christian in the mat
ter is duty. We do not like that wor
duty. We associate -with "he word dut}
sacrifice, and are surprised when we fin
that it is in itself a term of freeiorr
When I say to you, "I want you tD d
your duty," you say. "Don't talk to m
about duty; I don't like that word." Tha
is largely because the word has com: to yo
to mean a matter of bondage, when in'rt
ality it ought to mean a matter of frecdon:
Why it was duty " ehind the text: "Let u:
therefore, seeing we are compassed abou
with so great a cloud of witnesses lay asid
every weight and the sin which is admire
bv many (or so delight in? ome special si
of the age. I suppose) and let us run wit
I)atience the race that is set before uf
ooking unto Jesus, the author and perfeel
er of our faith, who, for the joy that wa
set before Him, endured the cross, d<
spised the shame, and hath sat down at th
right hand of the throne of Gad." Tha
is duty. In the light with which Jesus d<
spisea me cross ivc uu^u. uui. w oiup m<
reason about duty. I \vant you to notic
that duty is an ethical term, not a leca
There is a kind of doctrine abroad to-aa
which is called the ethical religious idea,
do not mean that at all. Duty is ethica
not legal. Duty resides in the recesses c
a man's character, not in the external let
islation concerning him. I am a mor?
being, therefore I ought. A dog or
horse can never be called upon because c
oughtness?they are not moral beings. The
are within the restrictions of a master an
that is legal. There is something in ma
that is an oughtness. "I ought, therefor
I must." Because I am a moral being
ought, therefore duty is ethical. Many
man fulfills the lav/ and breaks every po;
sible moral duty. The saloonkeeper i
keeping the letter of the law, but he i
doing an immoral thing. It is not a matte
of legality or politics, but of moral oughi
ness. Until that moral oughtness is obeyc
I am in bondage, but when 1 obey th
? "'-I T i rv\ fro n T nnacn
JllUltll UUgllLllCQO J. UI1I 111.V. A
through a great sewing machine works i
Belvidere, 111., and saw the machine ealle
the automatic screw. The ordinary m;
chine knows more than a lot of men. Me
can't do a thing a* you tell them to. Yo
set a man on a job of work and he wi
change the way oi doing it just as sure .1
he lives?that is, if he is an American. ]
he is a Chinaman or a Russian he won'
That is why corporations hire that kind c
man, because he will do no more nor le.?
than he is told. But you tell an America
to do a thing precisely in a certain wa.v
he won't do it; you can't hire him to do i
But a macb'nc will. You say that is ri
strictcd. No, it is not. It will take tli
pig iron and turn it out perfect screws a
small as a piece in your watch, and do i
all day long. That is liberty. The iro
was restricted in the pig iron, it is at lil
erty in the screw shape because it is doin
its intended work, and man is at libert
only when he is doing his God-intende
service. Morally speaking, duty is elhioa
then. I do my dutv before God, not b
cause I must, but oecause I ought. I ai
less a man and less free when I refuse t
do a thing I was made to do. The chic
end of man, says the catechism, is to wo;
ship God and enjoy Him. Exactly. ?
that duty is a part of joy in service.
Selfishness is incompatible with service
The servant is not the servant when thinl
ing more of the wage than the busines
You cannot serve and be selfish. The si
of this age is selfishness, my friends,
am thankful that I live in the age of eld
trieity, wireless telegraphy and automi
biles, but let me tell you, the 6in of th
??e is pure, unadulterated selfishness. Te
thousand people to-day in this great cit
are seeking absolutely their own se'lis
pleasure, and when seff dethrones God an
enthrones itself the sin of all sin in th
age is committed. "Son, give me thir
heart.*' "No," you say, "you cannot La\
I it; it is mine. 1 am going to keep m
heart to myself." l was reminded ns
came down froin Bingliamton through tb
mountains on Saturday ? I love thoi
mountains. (I have been hungry out o
the Western plain* to see a hill. Yo
would be surprised to see what ihey rail
hill out there. Why, an lrishman'with
wheelbarrow could build a bigger mountai
in a day than some of those mountains
I looked over those mountains and ifinen
bered an experience some years ago in tli
Adirondacks. We started out early or
morning to climb a mountain. The valle
was fufi of light, and as we looked bac
from the top of one of the foothills in tt
v#lley at our feet the beautiful verdui
eeemed to throw back tb* beauties ol ti
*
r
T sunlight. Then we entered a fog, wber? ,
we could not see more than five or six feet
away. Where was the heanty gone? Our
attention became riveted upon our efforts
3 to climb_ out of the fog. Presently we
emerged from it and were on the mountain
top. My. what a scene! There lay the
valley at our fpet. like an extensive world;
if towns, rivers and railways?the great Vals
lev of the Mohawk. True, it was nearly
-.- a ? l-.i. ...? ...?
1OU IIIUCS illlill, UUb ?C "Clt luunuij; au ?t.
That was like the Christian experience.
When you came to the seat that day you
>. were on the foothill. You forgot all be*
>- cause .Jesu* was everything and you saw
the little landscape. You thought. "The
e Christian life is beautiful. 1 am full of
s joy." And .1 few weeks passed and you
g said. "But to live as a Cshirtian is not so
a easy; I do not see the joy. The little valt
ley. where is it? What a tremendous
rl thing it is to he climbing up to God." And
s the cloud settles and you get to be selfish.
1- But if you persevered and climbed upr
ward you have come to the mountain peak,
e Experience, and you feel that all your
t powers and love "ought to be settled on
f one effort to climb still further and further
in the vision of the Eternal. 1 won|j
der if some of us are not still in the cloud,
because we have lost the joy of service.
1 Suffering is only incident to service. I
| am perfectly aware, when I ask you to ent
ter with greater zeal in the service of God
that I am asking you to suffer. You will
g not be killed, or asked to move out of the
e United States or persecuted because you
0 are a Christian, but you will have to suf?
fer, and when you suffer you will begin to |
e enjoy. No man laughs so heartily as the
.. man who weeps most bitterly. No laugh- !
e ter rings so in heaven as that which comes
v through the tears down here. JJy suffering
s I mean you will be asked to endure the
e cross. Jesus endured the cross. Mow,
e right here let me say that suffering is not
r service. Some one says: "See here, do you
s mean to say that when I suffer for .Tesus
Christ that is not service?" That is exacto
ly what I mean to say. God has no pleasj
ure in your pain, but if your service for
e Him demands it, and you bear it heroice
ally, He has pleasure in the attitude of
> your life. Jesus Christ endured the cross.
[I Why? Because it was incident to the work
r of saving this race. Somebody will call
.. me heretic, but I am not. I believe, and
a you believe, that Jesus Christ came to this
s world to save this race. I believe and you
0 believe that without Christ there is no sal- j
v vation. The key note of all my ministry
>1 shall ever be that Jesus is the ?vine Son I
-r /-t_ j Tt IT- . ? ?L J:..:? w |
.. <JI VJUU. ii xie is uvi. uivjiic ici ur. v/m
[. preaching. sell our property and bp infit
dels. If Jesus is a mere man let us all quit
e business. I may be an old fogy, but as
a long as this tongue preaches tne gospel
e Jesus Christ will be the divine Christ in
K my message. Do I mean that Jesus came
? to His cross by accident? Not at all. He
e saw the cross standing at the end of His
h mission, and for the joy that was set bee
fore Him endured and came to save this
e race, and that meant the bearing of a cross
y and He bore it. But the real mission was
v the saving of the race, not the bearing of
t the cross. His mission was to save men.
d "God so loved the world that He gave His
g only begotten Son that whosover believeth
,{ in Him might not perish, but have ever- j
y lasting life." When the cross stood in the
n wav of the perfection of salvation Jesus
? endured it divinely, heroically and unflinch?
inglv died upon it to save us. Suffering is
e incident to service, and when I call you to
serve God you will have your cross. The
s men you work with will say you are too
n much of a crank and a fanatic. It will hurt
9 and pain and go deep, and you will flinch.
, Sometimes vou will try to apologize for
" 1- --J w;n
^ UCIIJ^ a tMlliA auu lauauv., auu jvu nii?
g thank God there is something you can end
dure. It is part of servic^ and behind the
e suffering come6 a joy, deep and profound,
when you are true. Yes, you will have
t; shame to bear. too. Two or three young
9 ladies where I have been holding meetings
e lately and baDtizing some have said, "1 do
e not like to think of getting up before all
X those people and being baptized." I wone
der if we are going into the joy of fulfilling
[. God's command. If we are we have got to
e endure 6ome of that shame He endured.
n" Let me tell you if you had administered
e baptism and you saw as a minister sees in
e the face of the believer buried out of sight j
and raised to resurrection of newness of
life?if you saw what he sees just once you
would drop your quibbling now. Shame on
us if we cannot bear in the twentieth cen"
tury light of Christian truth all that fol*
j lowing Jesus demands of us. A writer in
r the British Weekly in an articte entitled
j "Beating to Windward," says sailing
against the wind by steam power was op'
posing one for re to another, and was simDiy
a matter of victory for the stronger
? force, but to sail to windward in a bailing
. vessel was a matter of skill for here
"forces that oppose are not opposed but
used." Brethren, we must "beat to wind'
ward." < Christian living that meet with no
i opposition is not Christian living at all. If
you are beating to windward for Jesus this
j world will onpose vou. It is a matter of
u -i -ii a? j_i... 41
jpj Sl'l'lt tUCII, LLi lilhi; iui t,co u& |
suffering and sin and use them to advance '
, vour life in the kingdom of heaven. When
i[ I beein to sacrifice I begin to enjov. Beg
loved, if you would have the joy of Christian
service you must have the heart of !
e Christian sacrifice.
t
!- The Last Sabbath.
When that last Sabbath comes?the Sab
bath of all creation?the heart, wearied
; with its tumultuous beatings, shall have
Y rest; the soul, fevered with its anxieties,
. shall enjoy poace. The sun of the Sabbath
A will never set or hide its splendors in a
' cloud. The flowers that jrrow in its light
\ will never fade. Our earthly Sabbaths are
l' but dim reflections of the heavenlv Sab^
bath, cast down upon the earth, dimmed
by the transit of their rays from so great
j a height and so distant a world. The fairest
landscapes, or .combinations of scenery
? upon earth, are but the outskirts of the
I paradise of God, fore-earnests and intimaj:
tions of that which lies beyond them, and
the happiest Sabbath-heart, whose very .
pulse is a Sabbath bell, hears but a very inIs
adequate echo of the chimes and hannonics
of that Sabbath, that rest, where we
:r "rest not day and night." in which the
j song is never new, and yet ever sung.?
g Cumming.
The Likeness of Christ.
d Dr. Lyman Abbott says: "The artist
-i?j. _i- l:? "rtl 4-Vvn nnrfrnifc
l* SI&IK15 U.L llih ruoci *???. j'v. ? n
of one before him; and I go and look at it,
u and scow] and shru^ my shoulders and
II say:''It is not like him; I can see the ghost
is of an appearance looking out through the
If lustreless eyes and the untrue features,
t. but it is not my friend.' And the artist
>f says: 'Wait! when I have finished the
>s picture, and put the purpose?the soul?
n into it, then judge, not before.' So Christ
'5 sits for His portrait, and God takes me for
t- a canvas, and paints, and ever and anon I
- grow foolish enough to look at myself, and
i? shake my head in despair, and say, 'That
Is will never be a portrait, and then I coma
it back to His promise: "You shall be satis11
fied when you awake in His likeness,' and
3" I am satisfied beforehand in this hope that
G He gives me."
y
Deepest Calm au<l Courage.
b- Phillins Brooks, speaking of those lives
ti from which we derive the most real cour0
age and helpfulness, said: "It is the lives
jf like the stars, which simply pour down on
f- us the calm light of their bright and faithio
fill being, up to which we look and out of
which we gather the ueepest calm and
s. courage. No man or woman of the huini
blest sort can really be strong, gentle, pure
s. and good without the world being better
n for it; without somebody being helped and
1 comforted by the very existence of that
c- goodness."
3
ie What We Can Give.
One of the bravest things in the world is
t to give to others out of one's deepest pov.
erty, whatever that may be?cheer out of
sorrow, hope out of disappointment, help
out of weariness, courage out of defeat, the
,? precious mite out of the slender store. It
" is a brave thing to (to mis, ana yet not 01 .
ten an unrewarded thing. \\ c do not
' know that the recording angel keeps any
special account of such herob benevoiences,
but surely they do not escape the loving
u cognizance of God.?Wellspring.
True Courage.
n The world and the church need to-day
). men of true courage, men who dare to have
i- the courage of their conviction; men who
le are not afraid to do what is right; men
ie who will 6tand up for the right. We have
y too many cowards in the church, and they
k are a reproach to Christianity. The world
ie despises a cowardly Christian and God has
e no use for such.?The Rev. Dr. Hoiderby,
ie Atlanta, Ga.
THE GREAT DESTROYER
SOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE.
A Lesson in Economic*? "What Moncj
Spent For Liquor Given in Ketnrn, anil
How the Total Abstainer in the Bet
Strictly speaking, there are three parties
concerned in every honest transaction: 1.
The seller. 2. The buyer. 3. The community
generally. The business which benefits
all these parties is based upon sound
and fair principles. The business which
gives profit ana gain to one party, and
fleeces either of the other two parties, is a
swindle. Apply this test to the liquor
traffic and what is the result?
Suppose two men, A and B. each having
$1000, the result of their savings or earnings
or of somebody else's savings aDd earnings.
A enters a career of idlness and debauch
and spends his money for rum. The
following is the result:
No. 1.?The rum seller gets the $1000 and
makes a profit.
No. 2.?The buyer has parted with his
$1000 and got ? nothing ? plus impaired
health, ruined character, degraded life and
perniipM a cuiuiijcli rtxuru.
No. 3.?The community is impoverished
by the amount of waste of wealth of one of
its members?plus ,the poverty, disorder,
accident, crime, etc., which attends his
drinking and the consequent taxation involved.
B spends his money in building a house
with the following results: ,
No. 1 ? The seller or builder gets the
SIOOO, and makes a profit on the transaction.
No. 2.?The bu>'er has parted with his
$1000, but has now a house?an equivalent
to the value of the money, plus the comfort,
increased advantages, social standing
and credit which attends a property owner.
No. 3.?The community is enriched by
the amount of $1000 wisely spent by one of
its members, together with the pronortion
of taxes which such property will pay.
Every citizen is interested in every new
building, and in every investment, no matter
who is the owner or investor.?National
Advocate.
60,000 Boy Victims Yearly.
The ravages of rum and its effect on tht>
youth of the nation were graphically described
by the Rev. Dr. W. F. Wilson, of
Hamilton, Ont., in an address delivered before
the twentv-first International Christian
Endeavor Convention at Denver.
Dr. Wilson said that the relative amount
of liquor consumed yearly by the great nations
of the world was jr ranee first, Italy
next, then Germany and Austria. The
United Stat'.-s stood fifteenth.on the list,
yet the drink bill of the United States last
year was $1,500,000,000.
The continued prosperity of even this
great and growing, republic was imperiled,
BaidJDr. Wi'eon.
"Ihe saioon everywnere is a curse; in
London, Paris, Berlin, Glasgow, Boston,
Washington, Toronto and Denver, it is the
same," ne continued. "It is the Gibraltar
nf greed, the Jericho of lust and crime, the
slaughter house of character and health; it
is the sewer pipe of misery and despair; a
mighty tyrant, a menace to freedom, purity
ina prosperity; the Birthplace of paupers
and criminals, the very fountain head of
blasphemy, brutality and anarchy.
"In his father's saloon the slayer of President
McKinley was schooled in lawlessness
3.nd crime, and from a saloon he went
forth to commit one of the foulest crimes
that ever disgraced t-e name of man:
"Sixty thousand boys in this republic
every year become moderate drinkers and
sixtv thousand moderate drinkers become
confirmed drunkards, and sixty thousand
confirmed drunkards pass into a state of
hopeless despair.
"Oh. for a few big men like Neal Dow,
John B. Gough, Sir William Lawson and
others?men who sec things to be done and
do them; formers of character rather than
reformers of abuses; patriotic men. enthuiiiastic
spirits, pure and courageous like the
late Sheriff Pearson, of Portland, or Polk,
r>f St. Louis: Parkhurst, of New York, and
Sheldon, of Kansas."
n ^ ?~?~t
ll< Mr uj o iw o?tc iucui
The Union Signal gives some information
regarding the working of the Iowa law for
the detention of inebriates in State hospitals.
The measure has been in force now
nine months. In one Hospital alone 150
Bach cases have been admitted. After a
Mrefal study of these cases Dr. Applegate,
the superintendent, officially affirms that
'"inebriety threatens to be one of the -no?t
serious menaces accompanying twentieth
century civilization. No d^ease seems to
be more common, and it renuires only a
little investigation to prove that there are
but few families in which some member is
not a victim."
In 125 of these cases inebriate tendencies
from one or both parents are clearly
ahown. but in only twenty-one was the inebriety
on the maternal "side, and of the
150 patients only six were women. One
hundred and thirtv-seven were Americanborn?a
fact we shall do well to ponder.
Dr. Applegate dwells upon the justice of
the law and UDon the necessity for State
treatment. "What better use," he asks,
"could a State make of its liquor revenue
than to pay it back to the heartbroken
wives anil worse than fatherless children
by giving them a well husband and a sane
father?"
Jt-'rom a doctor's standpoint tne question
is a pertinent, one. The standpoint of the
State, however, is, or should be, prevention
rather than cure. If the saloon revenue
goes back to the drunkard and the drunkard's
family, what has the State gained?
What it loses in the process of maWng a
drunkard and then trying to make him
over into a sober man. who can compute?
The hospital authorities admit that the
term of commitment?thirty days?is too
short a time in which to eradicate the disease
of alcoholism. A lifetime would be
too short to effect a cnre if the patient
must go out to face the open saloon.?
Union Signal.
It* Kftcct on Poirerity.
The influence of strong drink in afflicting
posterity is summed up in the following
manner by Kraft Ebbing, one of the chief
medical authorities of Germany: First
Generation?Moral depravity, alcoholic excess.
Second Generation?Drink mania,
attacks of in?anitv, general insanity, paralysis.
Third Generation?Hypochondria,
melancholia, apathv and tendency to murder.
Fourth Generation ? Imbecility,
idiocy and extinction of the race. Dr. Kbbine
has likewise made a comparison of
ten families of drunkards and ten temperate
families with the following results:
The direct progeny of the drunkards
amounted to fifty-seven; twenty-five died
of insr~?ient vitality in their first year,
six wer?- idiots, five dwarfed, five had
hydrocephalus, hairlip and clubfoot. Of
the temperate families there were sixty-one
children: five died of insufficient vitality,
four had curable nervous affections, two
had congenital defects, and 81.9 per cent,
were fcour.d in mind and body.
Better Sure Than Sorry.
So said:
The gardener as he covered his flower beds
in case of frost.
The farmer as he carted home his harvest
before the storm came on.
The wise school boy as he did his sume
over again in case they were wrong.
The traveler who went to the station five
minutes too soon instead of rushing in
too late.
The caotain who got his rcmnass adjusted
before he sailed from the harbor.
The wise bov or girl who took the pledge
?-ah1/J Knn>in fn li]'P stfPtir
Ill m*L' hjl > nwuiu ?v ?...~
drink.
A T>l*courarlns l'ro?pect.
Dr. Houston. in ihe last report oi tiu
Royal Edinburgh Asylum. says: "The cans*
of insanity for Ihe past year which stood
the highest in the list was intern yerancf
from drink. Twenty-eight per cent, of all
admissions were due to alcohol. It is a
end and discouraging prospect that this
most preventable cause of disease should
continue to increase."
HI? Fortune For Kmn.
.Tames E. Horton. of No. 358 West Sixteenth
Htreet. in the ordinary course of
business got hold of a dollar bill on the
back of which is vritten: "This is the last
dollar of a fortune spent for rum. John
Debold. Galveston. Texas."?Victor Smith,
in New York Press.
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 1
FNTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS F
FOR AUCUST 16.
Subject: Saul Trie# to Kill Davldt 1 Sait?.
xvlll., 5-1G?Golden Text, P*a. xl., 1?
Memory Versee. 12-14? Commentary oil
tlie Day's Lesson.
I. David's promotion (v. 5). 5. "David
went out." After bis victory over Goliath
David was appointed to some post of command
and went out on military expeditions.
''Wisely." This word combines the
ideas of prudence and consequent success.
"Set him over," etc. This is probably the
same appointment as that referred to in
v. 13. David was not made the leading
officer over all the host, for Abner held
that position (chap. 17:55), but Saul gave
him some principal command in the army
and made him captain of a regiment.
"Was accepted." The elevation pf the
shepherd boy was in the hearts of the common
people, and no doubt the sentiment
of the nation at this time had had some
influence on Saul in his promotion oi
David. "Saul's servants." Even the courtiers,
who were the most likely to be dis- .
pleased with this new favorite, were glad *
i to receive the youthful conqueror and ?
recognize his authority.
II. David's victory celebrated (vs. 6-9).
6. "Was returned." There has evidently been
a digression in the narrative (vs. 1-5) i
"to relate the circumstances of David's
permanent reception into Saul's service. J
the commencement of the friendship be*ween
him and Jonathan, and his ultimate ,
promotion and success." The narrative
now goes back to the welcome which David v
received when the army returned in tri- *
umpli from the successful completion of
the Philistine war. This ver3e should be read
' in connection with chap. 17:54; J
though some time may have elapsed, during
which the army was occupied in fo!* .
lowing up its first success. "Women came 1
out." It was the principal business of
certain women to celebrate victories, sing
at funerals, etc. "Of all the cities." They
came together from all the neighboring
cities. '"Singing and dancing." This is a |
characteristic trait of Oriental manners, f
On the return of friends long absent, and ' i
particularly on the return of a victorious t I
army, bands of women and children issue J
from the towns and villages to form a | c
| triumphal procession, to celebrate the victory
with dancing, music and songs, in 3
honor of the generals who have earned 1
the highest distinction by feats of gal- 1
lantry. The Hebrew women, therefore, 1
were merely paymg the ' customary con- <
gratulations to David as the deliverer of 1
their country. "Tabrets?timbrels." That >
is, the hand-drum, an instrument still 1
used by the Arabs, and described as a j
hoop over which a piece of parchment is j
drawn. Sometimes pieces of brass are 1
fixed in it to make a jingling. It is beaten }
1 with the fingers. The instrument must j
| have been similar to the modern tam- I
bourine. f
7. "Sang one to another." They sang <
alternately. Some of the women began ]
. the song with, "Saul hath slain his thou- sands,"
and another company answered, t
. "And David his ten thousands." Thi9 t
j was a neat poetic parallelism. The en- >
I thusiastic throng intimate that David's
I triumph was of more importance than all 1
! of Saul's victories." In this they com- 1
mitted a grave indiscretion: they praised i
I a subject at the expense of their sovereign.
8, 9. "Verv wroth." Saul centered his (
; thoughts on himself. This was the prin- i
; cipal cause of his trouble. He was al- 1
i ways ready to seek the ruin of any man 1
j by whom he imagined he_Vnight be injured. <
"But the kingdom." The propnet naa
! distinctly told him in the> day of his sin
I that the Lord had rent the kingdom from
< him. and had given it to a neighbor that
i was better than he (chap. 15:28). In David
I Saul could read the marks of such a man.
"Eyed David." Watched all his moveI
ments with suspjpion and jealousy, which
soon ripened into deadly hatred.
III. Saul's attempt on David's life (vs.
I 10, 11). Here commences the record of
| those persecutions by which, during the
| rest of Saul's lifetime, the conqueror of
Goliath was continually harassed. It
| forms a suggestive period of Israelitish
history, and presents in striking contrast
I the development of Saul's great wickedj
ness on the one hand, *md of David's many
excellences on the other. These persecutions.
however, were a most useful discipI
line for the psalmist king.
10. "EvH spirit." A demon like those
I mentioned so frequently in the l>ew Testa,
nient. "From God." Sent by permission
| of God, as Satan in Job 2:7. "Came upon
i Saul." He relapsed into a state of de
moniac possession. See chap. 16:14.
! i'Propnesied." Rather, "raved." ? Saul's
j condition is neither that of simple madness
or of true prophecy. He is under
, the control of a power higher than himJ
self, but it is an evil power! Saul was at i
I first inspired by the Holy Spirit of God,
but now that spirit has left him and a
i foul demon occupies his place, and, ac!
cordingiy, instead of hallowed ecstasy, his
! religious exercises resemble the frantic"
! ravines of a madman. He utters impas
6ioneil cries, and perhaps falls prostrate
on the floor and breathes forth his inner
ravings like one holding communion with
' an unseen world. "As at other times."
j See chap. 16:23. Also see R. V. There is
a wonderful power in music to soothe a
J troubled soul. "A javelin." The iavelin
or speur was the emblem of regal authority.
In ancient times kings used a spear inI
stead of a diadem. They always had it s.t ,
: hand, and in ancient monuments they are <
i always represented with it. j
j 11. "Cast the javelin." Saul, now ,
thoroughly infuriated, determined to make 1
! an end of the shepherd boy. After this
j personal attack Saul never lost the idea ]
that David was the' God-ordained king. '
This nurpose he resolved to defeat, and,
accordingly, made several attempts on
j David's fife.
IV. David's further advancement (vs. ,
I 12-10). 12, 13. "Was afraid of David."
j Saul bccame sensible that he was fighting
' against God: this caused terror and continued
to disturb him more and more.
"Because the Lord," etc. When God is ,
with us we are certain to succeed, but '
when the Lord forsakes a person he is
equally certain to be defeated. The Chris- ?
tian is mighty only "through God" (2 Cor2:10).
"Captain.'' It is not certain that
this was the frame appointment referred f
to in v. 5. but it is quite likely that it was. '
14-16. "Behaved," etc. David acted dis- '
rreetlv; he trusted to the divine guidance; ;
I (jiOd Was wun film. uccauac ui i?iua cam | i
... stood in awe of him" (v. 15, R. V.). j j
This is a stronger exnression than the one < f
used in v. 12, and denotes primarily the T
avoidance of the person feared. "All? 1
loved David." Saul made David captain 1
over a thousand partly to pet rid of him
from his presence, and partly perhaps in
the hone that he would lose his life in
battle (vs. 17. 23); but the result was that J
he became firmlv established in the affep- t
tion of the people. i
1
Prussian State Railroads. j
In 1901 there were 19,724 locomotives c
running on the Prussian State railroads, i
The passenger cars numbered 39,878. while
the number of freight cars was 420,000. The
receipts from the passenger service amounted
to $136,000,000 and those from the
freight traffic to $293,000,000. The numbei *
of officials and workmen employed was r
546.211, and the salaries and wages paid ?
these officials and workmen were $179,954,- ?
ISO. The total mileage of the State rail *
ways in Prussia was 26.241 miles.
British Officers For Japan.
An agreement has been arrived at by |
which Great Britain sends a number of t
army and navy officers to Japan and vice c
versa, in order to allow those officers to get .
acquainted with the methods of the two j
respective countries. A number of British
officers have already arrived in Japan,
where they are to stay two years. Forty
Japanese officers will soon leave for the
| same purpose for England. t
New Uniforms For Sweden. | *
The Swedish Minister of War has de- V
cidcd to introduce the khaki uniform for s
the field artillery. Trials with the new *
dress will first be made with two regi- j;
ments. The uniform resembles very much r
that of the British Colonial troops.
Destruction of Sparrow*.
During the last three months the Easton
Sparrow Club in Essex, England, has deitroyed
7304 sparrows as being pests to the i
farmer and gardener.
1
FHE RELIGIOUS LITE 1
IEADINC FOR THE QUIET HOUR J
WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF;
'oem: A Vision and a Prayer, by S. A* jj
Dyke ? what Christ Teaches About :
? ** ?- tk- frltlr Should B* ' ' 5f
U uwgni? vuirre?auv <J
Without Fault?Comment Charitably*
i stand upon the cliffs at night, A
And look afar upon the sea._ ' ^
3eyond the beacon's guiding light, ? ^
Towards the haven yet to be.
! ?ee the silent ships pass on,
With bending sail and pennon fair, ,4a
Vith bounding hope as guerdon,
With precious freight, with favoring &ilf V|g
rhe darkling waters roll beneath, H ' M
The twinkling stars gleam high above, %
hid whispering winds with gentle breath*.
Speak to my soul of life and love.
["his changeful life the rolling, deep.
> * it. XL. if.Uf
i.ny gaining iniiu ioc ucnuu "v.?fc? -;wf
ily yearning Tieart the freighted sbi?,
Thy star-lit throne the haven bright.
) God. who ever dost reveal, *
To child-like heart through-mortal sight* .4
The things not seen but yet most real,
Hear Thou my prayer to Thee thia night* 'f
JVilt Thou not hear a cry to Thee,
A humble cry in filial fear. *
\ creature's cry that asks to see
Thy grace anil glory n?w and here?
) Lord, do Thou direct my course, |
In me reveal Thy only Son. J
Jive.peace within midst billows strife, jj
By me, oh, may Thy will be done.
rhrough daylight clear, through midnight W,
dark,
By breezes fair, by tempest wild.
)h guide Thee straight tne trembling bark*. *
That bears to Thee Thy wandering child#..
?Ram's darn. v/S
On the Judging of Others.
Did you ever notice two people talking
or any length - of time and observe how
nuch of the conversation is made up of
eference to others, their acts and ways?" jg';
Vnd further, how much of that plentiful "< $
xiticism is adverse?
Go hack over yesterday and trace, if
ou can. the kind judgment you put upon
ecord?either in your own mind or in the $3
ninds of others?concerning your felloir
nen and women. Now the natural ten- Jii
lency when you have done thi6 will be to ;/$$
it once defend yourself for.the judgments rou
have made, and in many cases perhaps
hey would seem justifiable?but think! c.
\re you willing to be judged by the same ;
udgment? To be measured witn the same '<3$
neasure with which you have condemned '??}
lim? Perhaps even this you may say in js
our righteous wrath you are willing to dof ^$3?
jut think once more! Given that man's. V
rurroundinj;8 and circumstances, his here*
ULaiy icuucucici). uao ncaaucco&B, ui? ?v*m -^^BT
jerament, and, above all, his temptations HI
-leaving out,, of course, all advantages
hat you have had and he has no??then, , i
vould you be willing to be judged as severely
as you have judged him? I
And it may be true, if all truth were . ^
cnown, that he deserves such jndgmint; <&]
jut even so, Christ says, that judgment is
lot for us to give, but for Hint;
There are two reasoins why this law of ;-n
Christ's is right. The first is because it i? v*sl
lot possible that we, po long as we dwejl I
jDon this earth, should with our eatth'y > - jsM
vision and understanding, know all the Jv
lircumstances of any man's acts but our .% j
>wn. There is one person whose judgment ' .-v9j
jas been committed to our care if we' J
ihoose to look into it, and that is our own. : T f
rhere is no great danger that our judgcents
of ourselves will be too severe.
The second reason is that the' judge- I
wniiliAM* n fanU Pan anv An* nf *>SMI
luvniiu UC njbMVUV U luuiv* WUU mm+~j WWV - -<|W1
is aspire to that position?
And if we needed any more of Christ'* /
words upon this subject, after the lesson 'V-fij
:hat we have before us, we have them in 'ffifi
;he chapter where the sinful woman wa? 51
brought to Him, ana He said to her ac- 4\
:users: "He that is without sin among you,
et him first cast a stone at her."
And yet to-day we cast our stones <as /-JEH
S*yly as though they were not crushing
ihe^life from some heart for whom Christ |||
But when you think of the long years. M
)f careful training your parents gave you,
)f your father's patience and your moth- "ri$
;r's prayers, do you think it can be any >.W?
greater in God's eyes than the way you :'c(M
ose your temper every day? You spoke V'^jl
roughly to your mother this morning, or
to your friend. Wait until a day comes
when you have not lost your temper, or 'Xk*yielded
in the least to your besetting sin*,'
before you presume to judge your neigh-*
r>or. If this- rule were common among
Christians it would make a vart difference- A
not only in our conversations, but in our {
feelings one toward another. Harsh judg- i
ments, even though they may be tru?fc
jften lead to misunderstandings and life- . ?
ong estrangements between people who
were meant to be a help to one another.
TV*** io nnm trytr wVion WP fihftll hMW
the right to judge; when we shall ait on /
thrones and judge. But it is not yet. For \
n that day we shall be washed white
Tom every spot and blemish. V;
And it may be that just the beam that. rsi
s in our own eyes is the very beam of not
loving our neighbor. So. without love,
low could we rightlj judge? For our judg- ^
nents differ vastly when the case is our
jwn. It is the old story of "whose ox is fik
;ored." It is the love that Christ bears to ; "-M;
souls and His knowledge of ttyeir tempta:ions
that makes Him the righteous judge.
\nd God has given judgment into His ,
lauds.?Grace Livingston Hill, in the New
irork Mail and Express.
"Mnrt Endure the Polidhlng."
Tn speaking of God's plan for us and His i
nethods of dealing with us, His children,
;he Rev. F. B. Meyer says:
"None of us can tell for what God is .ft.'
educating us. We fret and murmur at the
larrow round and daily task of ordinary
ife, not realizing that it is only thus that
ve can be prepared for the high and holy
jffice which awaits us. We must descend
jefore we can ascend. We must take the a
ria crucis (way of the cross) submissively 'M
md patiently if we would tread the via * .
ucis (way of light). We must endure the
lolishing if we would be shafts in the
miver of Emnlar.uel. God's will comes to
hpp and me in dailv circumstances, in
ittle things equally as in great; meet them J
jravely; be at your best always, though jfl
he occasion be one of the v?ry least; dig
lify the smallest summons by the great"
less of your response." ' 'C'v1
Joy of IVncf.
Peace is accord with God. One who
it variance with God's plans for him. and
vith God's orderings of his surroundings,
a at discord with all that is above him, - >.\
md with all that is about him. We can
ive in constant warfare with our fellows,
md our suDeriors. We can, if we will, be
ine with Christ who is at the centre of the
iniverse, and who is at peacc with all.
The Law of Life.
Every one who violates the Ir.w o. graviation
as seen in nature, or anv other J
utural law, must pay the penalty. So ' J
very one who violates the law of life in J
he spirit must suffer likewise.?The Rev. {r
r. W. QuiiliaD, Episcopalian, Atlanta, Ga,
Faith.
Faith differs from knowledge, even from
he dictates of reason. Sense and even
eason are fallible. There is another way
o receive knowledge. It is given to us
irmly and verified by those who have been
vitnesses.?The Rev. Father Bo&rdmcn,
I. C., San Francisco, Cal.
Negro Woman Bank President.
A negro woman, Maggie L. Walker, has
he distinction of bei.'ii; the first woman,
v'hite or colored, ever elected president of J
bank in Virginia. Site lias been chosen fi
cud of the St. Luk<.''s Fenny Savings I
5ank, under the auspices of the order of 0
it. Luke, at Richmond. The institution i
pens for business with $75,000 in deposits. I
'resident Walker is widely known, and Jg
ar several years was a teacher in the pub
ic schools at KactimouU. btie has the rc- gm
pcct of both raceii.
VawinatSou in flic <'liili|iiMiirii. 9
Compulsory raecnuR'.t m i? ii'iii}* on'.orccJ
ii the Phili.prv.Gee.