The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, September 30, 1903, Image 2
u amatt
a o/AAtl
| By Anna Katharine Green, j
^ COPYRIGHT, 1890. BY HO
CHAPTER VII.
Continued.
"In a distant alleywt^r, lying on the
ground "
"Dead?"
j "Dead."
"It is not sne; I know It Is not she.
t I cannot, will not have It the signorina."
"I hope you are right; I sincerely
hope you are right, but she had a pack
et by her side, and in that packet was
a handkerchief and on tbat handkerchief
a name was written, and that
name is?"
"Jenny?"
? "Jenny Rogers."
"But she calls herself Yaldi. Selina
Valdi; has been known as Selina Valdi
for years. Whatever her original
name might be she would have 'Valdi'
and only 'Valdi* on her kerchief."
"1 do not think it good reasoning, but
no matter about that. It is a question
easily settled. All you have got to do
Is to accompany me to a neighboring
Btation. One glance at her face "
"I had rather not do it. I have had
onough of such excitement lately. Yet
I would never forgive myself if it were
really she and I shirked the responsibility
of the recognition. Let us go,
Byrd, let us go."
The detective expressed himself as
ready and. they started. One glimpse
and Degraw became a new man. It
nnt cho
"Singular," muttered Byrd, "that
they should be both named Jenny."
But on their return he "was tempted
to mutter something more emphatic,
for just as they stepped into the building
they heard a voice speaking out in
loud aud shrill tones:
"A girl missing from your school?
'And what is her name, please?"
"It is Jenny?Jenny Rogers."
"Ah! And how does she look? What
Is her complexion and the color of her
hair?"
"Fair, sir; very fair. Her eyes are
blue and her hair a bright yellow."
. At this unexpected-response Byrd,
who had been turning to speak to De?i.o'rtT
etnroH our! ^vrOnimprL in his as
,
tonishment:
"Fair? The "woman. cannot know
what she is talking about." And pushing
forward he dragged Degraw to the
place TYjiere this colloquy was taking
place.
"She is an orphan," the good woman
was now saying, "or I should not feel
> bo badly about her disappearance, and
she is so pretty, too, and so "
"But fair?" Byrd here put In, with a
deprecatory glance at the inspector, to
whom the other was speaking.
"Oh, yes, 6ir, "white as a lily. There
was not a bluer - eyed girl in the
school." 1
*And her name?"
"Is Jenny Rogers."
Byrd "was silent and presently drew
back.
"The dead girl is no blonde!" he
cried. "Her Jenny Rogers is not our
Jenny Rogers; yet how curious. Two ;
Jenny Rogerses on our books to-day
and "
Here he was tapped on the shoulder
by an elderly man, whose countenance
at once attracted the artist uy us
keenness and good nature.
"You're wanted," was bis word to
the young detective. "Something has
turced up."
"May I bring this gentleman? He
is secrecy itself." ,
The other, wJio did not seem to think
it necessary to look at the person thus
commended, smiled in an indulgent
6ort of way, and remarked:
"If he knows of any one by the
name of Jenny Itogers he will be only
too welcome. But I hardly think?"
"I know a Jenny," interposed Degraw,
with a hasty look at Byrd. "And
uiuuyil UCl Jill 11Jr iiMiy VI IUUJ Jiui uv
Rogers, she has left her lodgings under
circumstances so mysterious that I
have come here lor the express purpose
of gaining information in regard to
her."
"Humph! and her last name is not
Rogers?"
"That I cannot say. It is not the
name she is generally known by, which
is?"
Byrd pinched his arm. "We won't
detain Mr. Gryce," said he. Then
turning to the other: "May I bring him
along? We have already been together
to Station , to sec one Jenny Rogers,
and he has just heard this woman,
who has just come in, teil of the disappearance
of another, and consequently
we are both profoundly interested in
anything which touches upon this especial
subject. I can vouch for his
discretion, and "
"Lome along,' interrupted tue otner.
"We have a clue to the mystery, and a
remarkable one it is, too." And without
further parley he led them into a
private apartment, where several men
were already congregated around a
slim young fellow of a good countenance
and frank manner, and as they
soon "ound of a mellow and confidenceInspiring
voice.
Pausing in the background, Mr.
Gryce laid his finger on his mouth.
They at once stood still and listened.
"It is a short story," the young man
was saying, "and of course i don't
ruled repeating it. About a month ago
I was lying in my bed with my window
up. I live in Sixteenth street, between
Fifth and Sixth avenues, and
my room is a front one overlooking the
street. I was awake, although it was
nearly 1 o'clock, and was thinking, as
we all do, of innumerable matters of
no pressing importance, when suddenly
I heanl steps coming down the street
and in another moment caught the
sound of two voices, that of a man and
that of a woman, which, as the couple
passed under my window, resolved
themselves into words, and I heard
the woman say: 'But if some other
Jenny l'ogers should get the start of
me what then?' At which the man
spoke uo harshly aud with great energy.
'Don't let that trouble you. In a
4uonth from now there will not be aaitS"
. - -ii* .
ft
'ER < p;
ttaws; a
JU JL v/ x JL k_/? J.WIHU
Author of "The Forsaken 1 Inn,"
Etc. |
BERT BONNER'S SONS. J
other young girl by the name of JeDny
Rogers remaining in town. I "will see
to them, do you see to ' That is all,
gentlemen; they had passed and I
heard no more. But what they had
said troubled me, and -when I saw by
last pigbt's paper that Mr. Rogers, of 1
Fifty-sixth street, had lost his charming
child Jenny by a sudden illness 1
was so overwhelmed.that I determined !
to acquaint the authorities of the mys- i
terious threat which I had overheard
in tne nopes mat, n a cuusimuvjr ??ao
really in progress against the girls of ]
this name you "would be able to fathom
it and cut it short."
"Merciful powers!"
The exclamation baa come from De- i
graw. As for the detectives surround- 1
ing him they looked as if they had 1
struck a gold mine. A conspiracy and '
three victims, and possibly four, al- 1
ready known to them! What a day i
lay before them! No drones in the I
hive to-day. Each and every one 1
would have his task.
So much repressed excitement agitated
Degraw. Seizing Byrd by the \
arm he drew him to one side and asked <
him what he thought be might reason- ]
ably expect. Byrd replied that he did ]
not know what to say just yet, but ]
that if the signoriiia's name was Jenny f
Rogers, and sbe should thus be in
eluded in the category of the young j
girls doomed by the two unknown eon- ]
spirators, it would be soon become ,
manifest In the extensive inquiries ]
that were about to be made. He could \
do no better, then, than to return home, .
trust the authorities and await the re- i
suit in secrecy and patience. 1
It was a hard task for one of the art- (
ist's ardent temperament, but it seemed ]
to be the only one before him, so trust- ]
ing his friend whose interest was now \
thoroughly aroused he left the building
and took his way back to his studio. <
As he went he seemed to hear nothing
but those two words ringing in his
ears: "Jenny Rogers," "Jenny Rogers," ,
and when a friend passed him, as .
more than once occurred, it seemed as j
if the first words trembling from that }
friend's lips ought to be: j
"Have you heard of the conspiracy ^
against girls of the name of Jenny .
? ** nUfio^T? ViorA Hicr) nnrl
.r mu cuuauj uu* c viivu MM?.
another one is missing. They say-the
Signorina Valdi is an American, and
that her name is Jenny Rogers. If so
6he "will soon be found missing also,
and if not missing, then dead."
CHAPTER VIII.
TITE JEXXY ROGERS MYSTERT.
Late on this same day the inspector
sat before his desk studying the various
reports of his subordinates.
Those relating to the Jenny Rogers inquiry
lay in one pile and those relating
to other matters in another. With the
former alone are "we interested. Without
attempting to reproduce them literally
I will transcribe for you their substance,
as I take it for granted that
you take enough interest in this affair
to wish to know -what discoveries had
been made in relation to it.
First, there are nearly 3000 families
of the name of "Rogers" mentioned in
the New York directory. Of these, t
forty have been found to contain a t
".fenny," ten of whom are infants and I
Gve of advanced years. Ten more are s
married, leaving only fifteen of the 1
age and condition necessary to include t
them in the category of young girls.
One of these died yesterday, the
daughter of Abram Rogers, living in i
Fifty-sixth street. Ht?r disease was t
scarlet fever, and her death was a legitimate
one. There is, however, one
fact connected with it that we have i
thought it well enough to record. <
Some three weeks before any signs of <
disease had developed in this girl she ?
came to her mother and told her that i
she was haunted by a strange man. j
We should have said shadowed, for t
when her mother forced her to explain (
she told how a certain man whom she ?
did not know, but who had every ap- <
nearance of being a gentleman of i
means and culture, "was continually t
being met by lier in tlie street, at I
cliurcb and on the school steps. How 1
ho had looked at her. not disrespect- t
fully, but too intently for her to doubt
thnt his interest was the result of some
strong motive, and though he never
addressed her, he always had the ap- (
pcarance of being on the verge of j
doing so. She was not afraid of him,
but she would rather not walk out ,
alone, and after this confession her
parents took good measures thnt she ,
should not bo calkd upon to do so. '
Two weeks later s);e was taken ill, and (
on the morning if her death, which j
was yesterday, a strange gentleman
called at the house and asked for her. ,
He was told the sad news and seemed '
much shocked, but turned immediately ,
away. A relative who caught a glimpse j
of him at the door declares Lira to be
the same person who had so diligently
haunted the young girl's steps.
Miss nadden's school having been ,
visited certain facts have CDine to light
in reference to the young girl who was
reported this morning as missing. She (
is the last representative of an oid De- j
troit family. Her fortune is consider- j
able, and she lias for a guardian a ,
highly respectable gentleman in Detroit.
She is pretty and generous, but
headstrong. To her schoolmates she
is all openness and affection, but to her i
teachers reserved, if not sly and will- 1
ful. She. too. has lieen haunted by an !
unknown gentleman, and was so affect- 1
ed by what she chose to consider hi.~ i
honorable attentions that she soc.ne:l i
to lose her judgment and fancy lie whs i
a lover whose passion it was her duty <
to return. Influenced by these impressions
her manner had grown languish- i
ing, and she had been found more than ]
once scribbling notes and verses to <
the handsome unknown. Ker disap- i
pearance, which was not unaecompnn- "
ied by tokens of premeditation, is In id ;
l;y her sclioolmatcs to the arts of this :
%
secret suitor, and they expect>to hear
very soon of a private marriage between
this foolish girl and the gentleman
above mentioned.
So much for current gossip. More
private inquiries elicited further and
less well-known facts. A teacher, who
h?i/l xrntfhori thp firl narrnwlr rjitr
(bat she does not look for any such
termination of the affair; that the gentleman,
who was one of many visitors
on a certain exhibition day, had
seemed more interested in her name
than in herself, for he -had asked if
there "was any girl in the school by the
name of Jenny Rogers, and when told
yes had looked with deep interest at
the person designated. But it was not
with a lover's interest, or so the demure
teacher persisted in declaring.
But whether this be true or not a
large reward has been offered to the
man who snan nrsi mscover uer present
whereabouts.
The identity of the girl found dead in
Blind Alley this morning has been settled.
Several persons, among them
ber employer and the woman with
whom she lived, have testified to her
features as those of an orphan girl by
the name of Jenny Rogers, who
worked in the large shirt factory in
Wooster street, near Broome. Inquiry
into her character proves her to have
been both virtuous - and industrious,
but she was sickly, and her death,
which .seems to have been sudden,
was. according to present appearances,
solely the result of a fright given by
the following anonymous letter, which
tvas found in her room:
"New York, May 25, 1887.
"Miss Jenny Rogers?Will you let a
true friend warn you? Though you
seem at present unconscious of the
fact you have a desperate enemy, who
lias sworn to be the ruin of you. He is
not a common man, and will certainly
iccomolisb whatever he desires.
Whether his determination springs
From too much love or too much hate
[ cannot tell, but he has singled you
3ut as his victim, and before long you
may expect to see yourself visited by a
5ne looking and uncommonly pleasing
gentleman, who will talk fairly to you,
but who at heart means you nothing
but wrong and suffering. Lest you
should not know him when you see*
bim I will describe him in advance.
He is tall, with dark hair and mustache,
gray eyes and a polite manner.
A.t sight of such a man flee; it is your
jnly safety. With best wishes.
"A FRIEND."
This letter, according to the landlady
with whom she lived, was given her
jresterday evening upon her return
/a rtnrl 4 Vinll<yVl f V\ A /1i/1
IJLUJLU lUC iaLlUltV, auu, iuuu^u cut u<u
aot tell anybody about it, she manifested
so much uneasiness all night
:hat the people in the next room comilained
of being disturbed. But in the
morning she was so quiet that the
andlady became alarmed and went
nto her room, when she found that
he young girl had not only gone away,
sut had carried off most of her few effects.
This was a great surprise, as
fenny had always seemed both honest
ind considerate. But it was followed
>y a still greater surprise. For, a few
ninutes later, before the landlady had
eft the room, in fact, a strange gentlenan
called upon this girl, with a large
jacket of extra work in his arms, and
ipon hearing she had gone out without
caving any word, expressed himself
nuch astonished, since she had promsed
to be at home to see him. He did
lot give his name, but he was tall,
;ood looking, with a black mustache
md gray eyes. He left the work and
vent away, looking much put out and
lisappointed.
Meanwhile, poor .Tenny Rogers who,
f she had expected him as he bad said,
>?-?^ nl'nn mAof />nrfoln mdflTlO Cif PR.
lau lancu uiuoi vv.i. iuiu v* ?~
aping bixti. was lying in an alley near
>y dead. Sbe bad run, as several tesify,
for two long blocks down North
vloore street, and if, as some think,
he was troubled with heart disease,
ler death is explained. But this cannot
>e settled till the autopsy takes place.
The original name of the Signorina
Vino "fnnn/1 in hnvt? hPfYl
f (U'.tl JiUO UVV11 4VUMU VV ??? W ~ V ...
liiv same fatal one of Jenny Rogers.'
Signed by different names, these Ta
ious reports interested the inspector
greatly. Pondering upon them he deeded
that the evidencs of a conspiracy
igainst girls of this name were good,
mil that the strange gentleman who
ippcared in all these reports saving
he last was one and the same man. A I
letective was, therefore, called and
liven such clues to this mysterious in?
lividual as could he gathered from
hese various reports, with an injunc- :
ion to have him forthcoming in time J
'or the inquest soon to ho held over
he remains of the poor girl found in
he alley way.
To be continued.
Hotel LlUrarie*.
A grievance which more than one of
>ur contemporaries has lately ventiated,
says the London Graphic, is the
~^ UUwAiMflo in Trtnflieli linttilc .
, uruj ui iiuxaiico in Miidi?ou I
ind it may, therefore, be opportune to I
lraw attention to the method by which I
1 large number tff Continental hotels !
:*ater to the literary requirements of
heir clients. The plan is for a central
library to supply each hotel with a j
reasonable number of modern novels.
The visitor who wants something to '
read must, in the first instance, buy
t book; but the siugle purchase makes
liim a member of the library, and lie
;an. for a small fee of twopence-halfpenny,
exchange it for another at any
lepot at which he finds himself. Buyng
a volume at Boulogne, for example,
lie can read it in the train, effect an
exchange when he gets to Dijon. It
is a rystem which many travelers '
[whether of commerce or otherwise^ !
have found convenient; and one woufd :
be pleased to see 't tried experimentilly
in England.
Itaclnc at Fifty JUetrrcen KsIott.
Ice footracing is something of a
aovelvy, although I was accustomed to j
it. says Sandy Frew, in tlie Seattle I
Post-Intelligencer, having run Charlie '
Lcc- on th? ice in Omaha several years !
ago. An ice track is the fastest track j
that can be had. You can get a good
Foothold and it is elastic enough. You !
kid get just the kind of bound you
want. The great trouble in ice racing
is to keep yourself at the proper temperature.
Under proper conditions I
ran easily beat ten seconds flat 011 i
the ice. You can imagine the kind of i
weather we had in Dawson when I tell I
,pou that it was fifty degrees below
sero when the race was pulled off.
A SERMON FOR SUNDAY]:
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED
"CROSS BEARING."
' I
The Her. James E. Holmes Urges Us to
Have the Panl Spirit of Courage anil
Contentment, Even "When TV'e Stagger
Under a Load of Adversity.
Brooklyn, N. Y.?In the Summerfield
?dethodist Episcopal Church Sunday morning
the pastor, the Rev. James E. Holmes,
had for his subject "Cross Bearing." He
t/>ok as his text Matthew xxvii: 32: "And
as they came out they found a man of
Cyrene, Simon by name; him they compelled
to bear His cross." Mr. Holmes
said:
Three kinds of.crosscs were in use in the
days of Jesus, the so-called St. Andrew's
| cross, the cross in the form of the letter
"T" and the ordinary Latin cross. It was
on the last of these that Jesus suffered
crucifixion. This consisted of a strong upright
post, which was carried beforehand
to the place of execution, and two crosspieces,
which were horn by the victim. It
was these transverse pieccs which proved
too heavy for the Master. It was probably
between the hours of 9 and JO o'clock
in the morning that that memorable procession,
of which Jesus was the central figure.
set forth for the place of execution;
a place outside the city walls. Ordinarily
such a procession was in charge of a centurion,
and preceded by a public crier,
who from time to time proclaimed aloud
the nature of the crime. He also carried
a white wooden board on which this was
written. The longest route was always
Lselected. and the most crowded streets, to
- * _ _!_
t attract the attention ot tne peopie. x<acn
of the condemned would be accompanied
by a guard of four soldiers, and, as <1 matter
of course, a ereat crowd would follow.
The weight of tne cross soon proved too
heavy for the exhausted strength of Jesus.
You must remember He has not tasted
food or drink since the Paschal supper the
I night before, and that events had occurred
I since then in quick succession, every one
| of which must have stirred His soul with
! deepest emotions. The betrayal by Judas,
I and the farewell to His disciples had oc|
curred, after which He had spent some
I hours alone in G-ethsemane, engaged in a
| terrific mental and spiritual struggle. It
was then, as you remember, that His neemies
found Him, since which time He
has stood surrounded by enemies, practically
alone; for His discinles had all forsaken
Him. Meanwhile He has been hurried
from place to place and from one
official to another: from Annas to Caiphas,
then to Pilate, then to Herod, and then
again to Pilate. Indignity upon indignity,
torture upon torture have been heaped
upon Him all that livelong night and all
that morning, so that it is not to be wondered
at that U.e weight of the cross
was too great for Him. Up to the last
gate, however, He managed to drag it, but
I Here He sank exhausted beneath the heavy
load. It happened just then that this
man, Simon 01 cyrene, came upou uk
scene, and him the Roman soldiers seized
and compelled to carry the cross the remainder
of the way.
On first thought it might seem strange
that the people would permit such an indignity
put upon a fellow Jew, but this
L Simon was undoubtedly a foreigner, which
his dress would indicate, and the soldiers
would know that it was safer to put this
humiliation on a foreigner than upon a
native of Jerusalem. As it was, the people
do not seem to have resented it, that
a fellow Jew had to suffer the defilement
of bearing'a heathen cross, and this may
have been the explanation that Simon was
a foreigner, and only a proselyte Jew. How
Ereatlv surprised and chagrined he must
ave been, to be thrust so unexpectedly
into such a predicament! How it happened
that he was there walking abroad
on a fast day we do not know. He may
have been idly strolling along that country
road without any particular aim or purpose
in view, or he may have lived outside the
city walls and was entering the city on
business or to worship or merely on pleasure
bent. We cannot know how" to explain
his presence there on that road between
Calvary and Jerusalem just at that moment
when some one was needed to bear the
cross of Christ, but it happened that he
appeared on the scene just as Jesus sank
beneath His load, and he finds himself
seized by the Roman soldiers, and despite
his remonstrances, compelled to bear the
cross of Christ. It is all so sudden, and *o
unexpected, that he can scarcely know
whether it is not all a dream.
We see it .ill as he did not. We see in
Simon'6 experience that for which we
would gladly give all that we have. And
why could he not appreciate it? Was it
ignorance on his part? Had he never
heard the name of Jesus of Nazareth?
Had he not heard of those strange and
startling events that had been stirring Jerusalem
of late? To him it only appears as
an unfortunate accident that he happened
to cross the path of this man Christ on
the way to execution, just as He sank
down under the weight of His cross. As
it in, he considers himself abused, humiliated,
disgraced, and now he longs for the
moment of release, that he may hide himself
from the gaze of the people and bear
in silence the defilement that has come
upon him and upon his houste.
And now I wish to place alongside of
this, and in contrast to it. the words of
the apostle Paul. "God forbid that I should
elory save in the cross of Christ." To
Simon the cross of Christ means disappointment,
disgrace and loss; to Paul it
is the one thing glorious and worth rejoicing
over. How explain the difference
in sentiment? It will not do to say Paul
is simply dealing in a figure of speech,
while Simon actually suffered the weight
and the disgrace of an actual cross, for
Paul bore the cross of Christ as actually
f?a Q i m AM J
It was the cror? that brought hire into
conflict with the authorities and with
mobs; it was the cross that drove him
from place to place, a vagabond on the
face of the earth; it was the cross that
brought him into prison, and into danger;
it was ihe cross that made him a disgrace.
and his name an execration wherevere
there was a Jewish synagogue. Paul
suffered loss and pain and humiliation over
and over again on account of the crosa.
Call it a figure of speech if vov will, but
his back was bent, and broken: his bodily
pains were as genuine, his humiliation was
as deep and his loss as great as 'came to
Simon of Cvreue and far more so. The
experiences of the two men were very
similar, almost identical; for !t was on a
country road leading into Damascus that
Paul first came face to face with Jesus
Christ, and it was then and there that
the cross of Christ was laid unon him.
And that from that moment until he died
he bore that cross, feeling keenly the
weight of it. the humiliation of it, the
loss it occasioned him. but, unlike the
other men. glorying in it and rejoicing on
account of it. Why the contrast? All!
Paul understood the cross, its meaning, its
purpose, its power; Simon did not. Paul
saw that that cross, instead of being the
instrument of torture and shame, was on
the contrary God's saving and sanctifying
[ instrument, among men. In that cross
Paul beheld the method and the means
whereby the transcendent plan of the Almighty
to save this sin fill world was made
possible. Now any accident, or any providential
occurrence that linked him to that
cross, and thus to the glorious purposes of
the Lord, Paul rejoiced in and counted
most fortunate.
And now, my friends, I ask you to consider
for a little while these two methods
of cross bearing. The world is divided
into .Simons and Pauls: I am almost tempted
to say equally divided, but perhaps not.
On the one hand there are the people
whose lives are a perpetual groan and
t complaint, and their burdens are not imaginary.
either. Their backs are bent and
breaking; their hearts are wounded to the
very core; their souls are crushed. Life is
a great, disappointment. It was not ever
thus with them: no. it is of comparatively
recent happening. Almost without a note
of forewarning, in a moment, in the twink1?
>g of an eye. they have had thrust upon
1 them an unspeakable sorrow, or some appalling
responsibility, or some irksome restraint,
or perhaps it is an overwhelming
disgrace. Now are they like Simon of
Cyrcne, full of bitterness and resentment,
struggling along under their burden with
dogged persistence, but finding no joy and
no profit in their cross. On the other hand,
there are the i'auis; ttie men ana tne
women that are bearing burdens just as
real and just as heavy as the others. They
have their own responsibilities and restraints,
their own sorrows and disappointments,
and they are as heavy to carry,
and as painful, too, as men ever have in
this life. But what a contrast they prer~.
' <'
sent! for their life note is bvoua and triumphant,
notwithstanding tne cross on
their backs. Simon is tne man who
bearing his lot in gloomy and sullen silence,
and bearing it in a way that makes
you feel he is none the better for having
to t!o it. Paul is the man whose sufferings
and lesses you, can plainly see are the
explanation of nis buoyant and courageous
?-.'A. tj;? 1?+ /Ueinrron<jhl^ ;ind difficult
spjjll* ?XlO iUl, uijuft?v.tv.w,v ?
as it is, he accepts, not as the other man,
with bitterness and resentment, but in that
spirit of faith and obedience that God
has & right to expect from all His children.
I know there are some to whom this will
sound 9trange and perhaps impossible, and
I know they are conscientious and religious
peophe. They accept it as a fact that men
mu6t expect to be suddenly halted in life,
: like Simon of Cyrene, made to bear
some heavy and humiliating cross, and they
endeavor to be stout-hearted and brave
under the ordeal, but it is always and only j
a disagreeable and unfortunate circumstance
in their lives; and they resent it and
hate it as did Simon; and that is all. Thev
never seem to find the source of strength
and happiness in their cross. Now, is it
true that the Paul attitude and the Paul
spirit are possible? Possible to the average
man, I mean? Or do they require the
Paul conversion and the Paul visions? la
it true that the Paul spirit is possible in
ordinary life, or must one have first caught
a glimpse of the third heaven? I ask you
to ponder this query, in the hope that we
may clearly see and be convinced that it
is no unattainable principle for any man,
anywhere in this world.
Here are two young men?classmates at
college, or shopmates, if vou please, in the
s".me office or factory. i"he one is about
as diligent as the other and about as successful.
Nevertheless, there is a marked
difference. The one finds study or business.
as the case may be, irksome and
slavish, it neither inspires nor aev-eiops
him. He simply does what he does because
he ought to or must, and his whole
life is nothing more than a stolid persistence
lacking the heartiness and the hopefulness
of the other. The other man is no
better scholar, no better workman or business
man, but he is a contrast, notwithstanding.
Whether it is study or business,
he finds his joy and inspiration in what be
does, and does what he does from a spirit
of love. There are the same restraints,
the same burdens unon both, but the one
exults in them and is developed by them,
where as the other, is full of resentment,
and is in no way benefited. While the one
is full of enthusiasm and anticipation, the
other is heartless and crushed. The one ia
Paul, the other is Simon.
People used to wonder why George William
Curtis, the distinguished and gifted
editor of Harper's Magazine, entered the J
lecture field. He was known to have a
lucrative position and a considerable income
from his writings: and so it seemed
strange to many peonle that he should
take up lecturing, with its inconveniences
and risks. Some were inclined to regard
him as mercenary, but on his death the
explanation appeared. Years before, so it j
is said, Mr. Curtis had engaged in a business
enterprise with a friend which proved
unfortunate for both. It was in order to j
meet all the obligations incurred by the
firm which bore his name that necessitated
his poin^- on those extended lecture tours;
and Mr. Curtis lived long enough to retire
from the lecture platform?and that, too,
after he had paid everv dollar of indebtedness.
with interest. Some might say that
is superfluous honesty, and yet many men
there'are to-dav who would do this very
thing Mr. Curtis did, and as a matter of
fact the number of men who have done
so in the past is not small. Indeed, there
are men living ia our midst who are striving
to do this self game thing. But all
men do not manifest the same spirit in
this otherwise noble task. One man will
act as if he were a bond slave, and while
he is faithful to his duty, does it in a
cheerless, heartless manner, apparently
finding nothing in his hard experience to
rejoice in or be thankful for. He goes
about his task as Simon bore the cross--1
cursing the luck that brought him to the
hour, and full of bitterness and resentment
on aecoi; it of it. Withou1: heart or inspiration,
and without comfort or joy, he
takes up his cross and trudges toward
Calvary. On the other hand, there are
men to whom these heavy tasks become an |
inspiration and a source of strength: who
aro finding their happiness and their de- j
velopment in carrying the cross, a happiness
and a develonment* that they would
otherwise never have known.
If you and I are to haye the P"ul spirit
of courage and contentment, even while
we stagger under the heavy cross, it can 1
only be by the way of the Paul attitude J
toward God and the Paul relationship to
Jesus Christ. This is the same Paul who
wrote. "We are children of c -d and if
children then heirs: ? eirs of God and joint
heirs with Christ;" the same Paul who
wrote. "All things works together for
good to them who love God." Afterward
Simon of Cyrene understood the oross of
Christ, and then he became a Paul. Though
the authorities turned him out of the synagogue
as defiled, though he and bis family
heeamc ostracised, it mattered little to
them, since thpy could clearlv see how
great a good had come to them in the form
of misfortune.
And do we not see how true this is of
many people about us? Do we not sec that
the burdens of the family to that young
mother, and that the new and heavy responsibility
to others were just what they
needed to round out their characters and
to fill their careers with force and
strength? !
And whatever may be the form of the
weight ot tlie cross jam upoji us m uno
life*, mv friends, let us remember these
two thinrs: That it is possible, like Paul,
the apostle, to find the inspiration and joy
of our lives in the cross: and, further, that
it must be so if our attitude toward God
is one of faith and obedience and our
relationship to Jesus that of a loyal and .
loving disciple. (
It Cured Him of Lying.
The Itev. Dr. Twining, when he was
pastor of the Congregational Church in
Hinsdale. Mass., told of the paradoxical
way in which the habit he had when a little
boy of telling startling stories to his mother
was once for all and completely broken up.
He had prevailed on his mother, after ,
much earnest entreaty, he said, to buy i
for him half a dozen Shanghai hensKinsley
giving as a reason for the purchase
that the Shanghai was a vastly better
layer than the ordinary hen. After waiting
a good while for some evidence of this
greater fecundity his mother said to him
one day: "How about your big Shanghais,
Kinslev? Instead of laying better, they
don't seem to have laid at all." "Yes,
they are laying, I tell you, mother: there's
a nest now under the cow's crib with
twenty-three eggs in it." "Well. Bridget, 1
go and get Kinsley to show vou where they
arc. and bring them in." "Well." said the
doctor. "I did not even know for certain
that there was a nest there, much less
that there were any eggs in it. However,
as I was in for it, I went to the barn j
with Bridget, put my arm down into the I
hole in the corner of the cow's crib, felt j
and tool: out an esg, and put it in the basket.
Then I reached in and look out an- !
other, until I Look out in all just twenty- |
three eggs. Outwardly," continued the
doctor, "I was '.riumphant, but I was
soon smitten with not only remorse, but
terror?terror because I thought that
Satan was encouraging me to cast in my ,
lot with him by helping me out with my ;
mendacity That was the last of my wrong j
story-telling!"
God's C* 1 Mm.
Into all oar lives, in many simple, familiar
ways, God infuses this element of
joy from the surprises of life, which unexpectedly
brighten our days and fill our
eyes with light. He drops this added
sweetness into His children's cup and
makes it to run over. The success we
were not counting on, the blessing we were
not trying after, the strain of music in the
midst of drudgery, the beautiful morning
picture or sunset glory thrown in as we
pass to or from our daily business, the unsought
word of encouragement or expression
of sympathy, the sentence that meant
more for us than the writer or speaker
thought?these and a hundred others that
every one's experience can sunnly are instances
of what I mean. You may call it
accident or chance?it often is: you may
-n i > -f
can It I1UIJ1UI1 gUUUHP??lb uitcu ia, uuu ay
ways, always call it God's love, for that is
always in it. These are His free gifts.?H.
W. Longfellow.
Entirely For Itself.
No nation has a right to live entirely j
for itself any more than an individual.? j
Rev. Dr. Woods, Saa Fraacisco, Cai. '
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL'1
NTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS
FOR OCTOBER 4.
Subject: David Brings Up the Ark,
Sam. vl., 1-12?Golden Text, P?a. 84-4 j
?memory Verse?, 11, 13?Commentary
on the Day's Lesson.
I. The joyful procession (vs. 1-5). 1, 2.
"Again." A former gathering was at He- j
bron when David was anointed king. '
"Thirty thousand." Representatives of the
whole people. David called for the chief
men and sent notice throughout the whole
land to the inhabitants everywhere, especiallv
to the priests and Levites, to as- !
semble together to assist in this important
work. Read 1 Chron. 13. "Ark of God."
Notice the deep reverence-in this phrase.
The ark did not belong to David or Israel;
it was God's. '.'Whose name is called."
Better* as in R. V., "Which is called by |
the Name, even the name of the Lord of >
hosts." "Dwelleth between the cherubim*."
"That sitteth upon the cherubim." j'
?R. V. "Cherubim" is the Hebrew plural
form of cherub. The cherubs represented
God's pre?ence.
8-5. "Thev set th#> ark of God Ut?on a i
nejv car.t." This was contrary to the legal |
requirement (Num. 7:9), according to j
which it was always to be carried by the i
Levites and veiled or covered from sight. I
In this case Israel probably, imitated the |
Phoenician cr Philistine custom. In this
manner they sent the ark from their borders.
The Phoenicians had sacred carts
on which they carried their gods about, j
and the oxen were secured to Baal. "Gib- !
*nh." A hill of Kirjath-iearim called by j
that name. "Uzzah ,and Ahio." Probably i
i he grandsons of Eleazar, the son of Abina- j
dab. who were eet .mart to keep the ark.
"Went before." While Uzzah walked at i
the side, Ahio went before the oxen to i
guide and manage them, as the Basques j
may be seen at the present day doing in j
the sc.ith of France. "Before the Lord."
The ark symbolized God's presence, and
those who went before the ark are referred
to as going before the Lord. "Instruments.
The whole procession, David at
the head, moved forward with music, song j
and dance (1 Chron. 13:8).
II. Uz/ah's error (vs. 6-9). 6, 7. "Thresh- 1
inr-floo?.'- A fixed threshing-floor, which [
did not change its place like the summer j
flonr (Dan. 2:35); and therefore probablv
had a roof and a stock of fodder. "Uzzah
. . . took hold." His conduct indicated
irreverence and presumption. The Levites
were forbidden to touch the ark on pain
of death (Num. 4:15-20). "Oxen stumbled."
The roads are very rough in Palestine,
and thp ark was evidently about
to be thrown from the cart when Uzzah
took held of it. "Anger of the.Lord."
Not passion, but rather indignation?that
feelinjr which makes Him Hate sin and
compels Him to punish it. "For his error."
The* error consisted in touching the ark,
which, as the symbol of God's presence (1
Sam. 4:7), none could look into (Num.
4:20; 1 Sam. 6:19). much less lay hold of
without peril of life. For transportation
purposes it was first covered ud by the
7,evites to whom it was committed, and
that with faces covered (Num. 4:15, 20),
and carried on stares. But suoposincr that j
it had been overturned, would not Uzzah i
have been as liable to punishment for suffering
that as for taking forbidden means
of preventing it? Surely not. He might
have been' punishable for adopting a mode
ox conveyance which exposed the ark to
such an accident, but not for omitting
what he was forbidden to do in order to
prevent that accident. "There he died."
The reason* for this severity were: (1)
That it grew out of a procedure which
was in direct vio-ation of an express statute
(Num. 4:15; 7:9) which required that the
ark should be carried by Levites. David [
! and those ir care of the ark should have
known this lav/. It is quite possible that
I in his delight in restoring the ancient
I religion, he forgot the law, and felt that
the work itself was so good and glorious'
as to make amends for any neglect as to i
the way of doing it. (2) Uzzah. who had
long had charge of the ark, should have
been familiar with the law forbidding him
to touch it. Possibly long familiarity with
the ark had bred carelessness and irrever!
cnce for the sacred symbol. (3) Uzzah
: stood in a representative position. What
he did was public, in the sight of all the j
people. It was a flagrant violation of God's
| command. It was needful at the outset to
prove to the people the necessity of exact i
obedience, and hence of careful study of !
i God's law. A neglect now would lead to
| greater neglects, to any changes individuals
1 might be inclined to make, and thus the j
sacredness and teachings of the divine in- .
stitutions of religion would be lost.
o n >> u? I
o, r. JL/J3uicascu. nc nas uiui biucu
ai^d chagrined at the sudden and unhappy ,
interruption of the triumphal procession. j
He was not anerv against God, but with ;
himself for neglect and carelessness in allowing
the ark to be removed in this wav. '
"Made a breach." Violently interposed in :
a sudden stroko o? divine judgment. "Pe- |
rez-u^zah." The word "Perez," or ;
"breach." conveyed to the Hebrews the
ides of a err eat calamity. "Afraid." Fear ;
or terror followed his anger, lest the judgments
of God were not yet ended and i
would be extended to himself and people. !
He saw that he had not followed the direc- j
tions of the law and prepared his people ! 1
for the solernn undertaking. "How shall." j
etc. Had David asked this question sooner
it would have been better. He now exhibits
humility and admits his guilt. He
see3 the necessity of reverence and devotion
in his conduct.
T7T Tl.? I,!-..-,! Arc 10.101
10-12. "Would not remove." Not for the
present., fearing he might make some other
mistake. "House of Obed-edom." Very
near the ciM*. He was a Levite of the
stock o; the Korahites, which was a branch !
of the family of Kohath. "The Lcrd \
b>?s?d." etc. Josepbus asserts that during j
this interval Obed-edom passed from pov- j
ert.v to weath, and that all who saw his
household, cr heard the report of his
wealth, were agreed in considering him '
specially "avored bv the Lord. "David
went." I'e?d 1 Chron. chaoters 15. 16. |
David had taken three months to study j ;
the Jaw, and now he was prepared to bring ,
the ark to Jerusalem in a proper manner. I i
T\r. The ark enters Jerusalem (vs. 13- |
19). This was the greatest day in David's 1
life. It was a turning point in the history
of the nation. At every few rods of the j ]
march the procession would halt, and \
th're were religious sacrifices at every t
holt. "The ark advanced like the chariot j
of a great conqueror, ascending the
sacred hill of triumuh." There were (
. - * a- _ ^ * a- L - 1
summoned 10 assist at tins cciuiiwk wic
high priests Zadok ami Abiathar. the heads
of the si:: Levitieal families, with a large
company of their relatives, and inauy from <
all the tribes of Israel. There were music ,
a'ld singing, and David himself changed , !
his MtfcTy carb for tho priestly ephod and
joined heartily in t^c music. Psalm 24 is i
supposed to have been sung.when the pro- i
cession was entering Jerusalem.
1
Municipal riant a Failure.
The municipal electric light plant which
has been in operation a year and a half at j
Richmond. Ind., has proven a financial
failure, and Mayor Zimmerman in an open
address accuses both the Electric Light
Commission and the superintendent of the
plant with neglect of duty. The eoinmis- '
sion is composed of representative business '
men, who arc receiving merely nominal shInries,
and resent the attack made by the '
Mayor. Municipal ownership is Mayor
Zimmerman's hobby, and he is very much ; 3
disappointed that it has proved a failure. '
1
To Change Level of the Lave?.
The British Government has ret/lied to '
the Stats Department cl the L ir.tea mates,
and it is now evident that the matter of
erecting a cia:n at the foot of Lake Erie
to regulate the levels of the great upper ]
lakes is to be n>ade a su'yjcct of international
investigation and intercut. The
JJritish Foreign Office lias informed the
.State Department that steps will at once
oe taken for the appointment of the Canadian
commissioners.
Newark** Population Crows.
j*he Newark i N". >'.( (. uy Directory for ]
lfllKMi? fvtir.!a.e? the population of the c-ty <
at *20.') If.. I" tit" I'nited .Sla>-s ccv <
mis placed it at l'7't. The current esti- |
mate of the I?;ard oi Health is 2oG,UOO. i
Tot?? Cast on Ocean.
Provisions are being made for sailors at
sea to vote at the forthcoming Norwegian i
general election. The captains of the ships
will act as presiding officers.
I
THE RELIGIOUS LIFE j
READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR
WHEN THE SOUL* INVITES ITSELR ^
Foem : Some One Has Need?Wanted Ho*
rlzon ? Keep the Sky Window# of the
Soul Clean ? Hindrances and Helps to
vision. >
Nothing to live for? Soul that cannot be,
Though when hearts break, the world
seems emptiness;
But unto thee I bring in thy distredfc
A message born ot love ana sympainy,
'And it may prove, 0 soul, the golden key
To all things beautiful and good, and *|?|
bless
Thy life which looks to thee so comfortless?
Thi9 is the word: "Some one has need of iff.
thee."
Some one, or who or where I do not know;
Knowest thou not? Then seek; make no ?'
delay
And thou shalt find in land of sun or enow - 5
Who waits thee, little child or pilgrim
gray; -cVJm
For since God keeps thee in His world be- 3
low,
Some one has need of thee somewhere
to-day.
?Emrja C. Dow A.
Their Want of Horizon.
It is wonderful how persistently and how ''jfc.
stubbornly many persons will cling to an ^
idealless life. The worst offense you can ?
commit is to offer to clean their sky win- f?
dows for them. They seem positively to
love darkness rather than liffht. Dioienes "*
is not offered to us by history as being ex-' /
actly a model of manners to royalty, for,
when asked by kingly Alexander -what gift
he would receive from him he only replied:* ^
"That you may get out of my sunlight.'*.
But when you choose between even Alex* ^
ander and sunlight there is something to ^
be said for the latter. In the case before ^
us there is no such excuse. The 'mind
seems to say: Leave me to a life from;
which the bright f cmament of the ideal is
excluded. Let me "walk on still in darkness/"
whatever lichi be round about me. v.
So they are like Plato's men in the cave. *
With faces toward the gloom they are con- >:
scioua only of the reflected shadows cast
b~ the glories of a world of life which they
never see. Their stolid incredulity will
quench the torch of your enthusiasm before
it will be enkindled by it. In answer
to the cry of the disciple: "We have seen.
the Lord," they will lay down conditions 1
v-r 1? ? : J 1 J
ueiuic men cuujf miu tnc ^iuuiujcu 1 auu
of the ideal, into the Tzorld of spiritual re- .
alitor, into the realization of the unseen,
winch destroys its notency to the heart? .
"Except I see, I will not believe."
Such people, says the SundayrSchooI
Times, are much to be pitied for their want
of horizon. In their case it haa to be k
created, and the process is usually tedious
and slow. Idealism is perhaps the intensert .
delight in life, and it cannot be won id a .
moment. It is the reward of a long culti- ' <;
vation of the vision-faculty. People who "'
live life of crustaceans in the Mammoth ;
Cave of Kentucky, lose the power of-vision
through long disuse. -A rector once suf- >'
fered from his attempt (upon his entry 'ygM
into an English country parish) to create >
"horizon" in the case of an old womait ;'r|
who existed in constant semi-darkness ' \
through the .grimy condition of her' win- dows.
Asthmatical and weak, living on a
dark ground floor room shut in by other
houses, she particularly needed light. Bat
the offer to have her windows cleaned for V
her was rejected with horror. - Her-remade* v
to one who called soon after, referring to
the new rector's visit, was: Another king -XflH
arose, which knew not Joseph." The '?.y
would-be reformer had become the Pha- '
raoh of the oppression, and Susan, lover of gt
obscure sky windows, was Israel in Egypt.
This lack of horizon springs from several i'-l
causes. One is spiritual sloth.- It is too
much trouble to some people to keep their . JS
eky windows clean. All that rises above
the sordid they reject with the inertia of ,1sj|
utter disregard. It is undesired and there' >3
fore undiscerned. "Horizon" means dis- *$
tance, scope, long sljrht, and these involve i
effort. Charles Kingtley extolled the Eng- ^
lish fen country for its bread levels, un- . .
broken for miles save by ancient dyke,
shining mere, whispering reed and rustling
poplar. To him it meant horizon, and. hon- '
zon meant?to a soul that loved liberty as
dearly as life?the sense of freedom and
room, of air to breathe, of scope wherein ^
to energize and overcome. To a weaker *
soul the very vastness of that nnbroken
sky, with its lonesome, glorious sunsets,
its galaxied hemisphere of stars, means the
dreadiul sense of mans littleness ana - /.
man's isolation.
Another causc of lack of horizon in selfish
preoccupation. The intensity of life -f-'i
at the centre brooks no concern for life at
the circumference. An atrophied hearty
generally carries with it a poor circulation;
at the peripheries. Horizon is drawn back ^
into the little circle of personal interests. '
Such a one wholly misses the spiritual :i
meaning of life, the solemn significance of
the world round about him, the marvels of
the reign of law in nature, the throbbing ;
of one pulse in all the movements of hn- "
manity, the presence of the supernatural
at every turn, the powers of the world to
come which stoop down to bless as angels
stoop to kiss sleeping children, "the troubled '
face of the tired souls of men, the mysteries
of the heavenly kingdom which lie for
others in the homeliest things of life experience.
A visitor was once extolling in aa
exquisite west country landscape in England
the glories of the scenery to a native.
"vVe be always here." was the sufficient . J
explanation of inability to admire. Hon- ; J
zon has lost its true meaning, just as Bun- I 1
yan's man with the muck rake missed th# J
crown just above his head. %i
ITopo For tho Lake Warm. ^
Dr. Culyer tells how those who >have
grown lukewarm or cold can again feel the
life of God pulsating through their veins.
He says:
"Simon Peter's best work was done after
he was reconverted. Do not stop with
lamenting your neglect of the place of
prayer. Open again the door of devotion; N
At the earliest moment lay hold of blood- ^
stirring Christian work; it will warm you I
up. It may take some time to get the jfl
blood into full, free circulation aguin and f
to cover your lost ground and lost health.
But when you do get a fresh tide of
Christ's love pouring into your heart ind
a fresh glow of His likeness in your countenance.
you will feel as I>azaru* must
have felt when he shook off the grave
clothes and leaped into life again." j
A boy complained to Thomas Arnold
because certain lessons were so difficult,
md, so far as he could see, useless; Ar- *
nold said: "I cannot make you understand
now of what use these things are going to
be to you, but you know I am your friend.
Well, as your friend, who knows what you
ire going to read, I want you to study
these lessons." Can we not believe that
divine love is always saving the same
to us: "As your friend, who knows what
you are going to need, I want you to go
through this darkness?" ,
Living For God. m
The highest thought is living for God.
Men in the world live for self. This is the ^
lim of all men born in Adam. It may be a 1
rery cultivated self, or a very low, mean I
self. But man's centre is self. God's word I
:omes and teaches us that the hiarhest aim I
in life is to live for God. In order to live
[or God something must happen in man. '
We will call it faitn, conversion, new birth, "
born again. These are Bible illustratioM.
[t means a change of centre.?The Be v.
James McFarlrad.
The Spiritn.il Life.
It is the spiritual life which exalts.?
Rev. Dr. Morse, Baptist, New York.
Cost of Wan, jfl
A British Parliamentary paper just issued
shows {hat the estimated amount of J
war charges in .South Africa and China incurred
up to March 31, 1903. is $1,035,900/ V
IKK). This total is exclusive of the $15,000,*
MK> voted as a temporary advance to the
new .South African colonies, but includes
the grants of $500,000 to Lord Roberts and
SOO.OOO to Lord Kitchener. These two lit- yTy
lie wars have, therefore, cost the empire,
roughly, $1,100,000,000. t . J
%<l
Ocean's Average Depth. '
The average depth of the ocean between
sixty degrees nortn and sixty degrees south
.6 nearly three miles. _