Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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LI A UTATl Xwv\il f By Anna Katharine Green,, COPYRIGHT 1?80. BY T CHAPTER X. Continued. But he Tvas no novice in interviews of this kind. Smilins quietly he re marked, -with his accustomed air of benevolence: "I do not answer because I dread your displeasure. I have no message from the gentleman to whom you allude, but I have one for him. If he calls upon you, as he may, please ask bim how many ladies of the name of Rogers he has made himself agreeable to lately, and if he does not recoil at that f\?k him how many more he hopes to bring Into the police courts before he is summoned there himself." "What do you mean?" sprang from tbf lips of the startled girl he was addressing. He had frightened her and be had aroused her interest. That was what he sought and he secretly smiled over hs success. "I do not understand you. Police courts? Oh. who are you? Jsot a police officer, I hope?" t? K*- *v?aY>a n a mi QCCJ 1UU UJigUi uuane u. ?i uicc ouvooi Miss Rogers. I am a detective grown old in the service. But that need not alarm you. for my experiences have not made me either hard or pitiless. The gentleman you refer to is a rogue. That Is why I am here and why I beg you to listen while I make clear to you the narrowness of your escape from a man without honor or respectability." "Oh! Oh!" came in hurried pants from her white lips. Her face had lost its disdain, and the eyes she fixed upon his were wide open and pleading. There was no evil in them, only the shame of a proud nature caught in an act of folly. "What are you telling me," she cried. "A rogue? I think you must be mistaken. I know a gentleman when I see him, and though I am only seventeen. I am not so childish as to be entirely deceived In those I meet. We are talking about different men or you are the victim of some mistake." "We can easily determine that," said v he. "What is the name of the gentleman of whom you are speaking?" "I would rather not mention names." He was not looking at ner: ne never looked at any one. but for all that his eyes had a peculiar expression, for which the pen-wiper he was honoring with his gaze may have been responsible. But I doubt it. "So names?" he replied. "Very well, we will try to get at the truth in some other way. then." And taking a paper from his pocket he opened it deliberately, theu laying it on his knee, put on a pair of glasses and observed: "I am going to read to you a description, not of the gentleman in whom you have so much confidence, but of another, equally nameless, who has been seen flitting around a young lady of the same name as yourself, living but a short time ago in Fifty-sixth street." And lifting the paper he read aloud these words: "According to the description given by such persons as have observed this gentleman he is tall, -well formed, affable in manner and pleasing in address. His complexion is medium, his hair and mustache dark and his eyes gray. He is what would be called by all persons a gentleman, and by most a handsome man. He is above all a strong character, bearing evidence in look and carriage of great force of disposition and a determined will." The detective paused, folded the paper and laid it on a table near by. Miss Rogers was blushing. "That, as I have informed you," continued the other, "is what persons soy * of the man who paid court to, or at least, showed his interest in the young lady I have mentioned by hovering about lier steps and following lier to church and other public places. She has since died, so I cannot get her description of him, but must rely upon that of her friends. Did you ever see any one like him?" The abashed girl bowed her head. She was trembling in every limb, but she did not choose to speak and he did not urg^ her to do so. -You will pardon me," he now pursued, "if I trouble you with a second description. This is of a gentleman who lately began the persecution of a young girl also bearing your name, but without the worldly advantages belonging to yourself or to the last mentioned lad}-. She was a working girl, but pretty, good and to all appearances happy till she came across this gentleman. He is said by those who have seen him to be tall, handsome, prepos sessing looking, of age about thirty, completion medium, hair dark, a large mustache and gray eyes. Did you ever see such a man as lie?"' "Don't ask me. You startle and surprise me beyond all endurance. What does it all mean, and -what is there in the name of Rogers that only persons of that name should receive this man's attention?" "It is not only the name of Rogers." remarked the detective kindly. "Each one of these girls was a Jenny also."' "A Jenny? You frighten me. sir. or rather you awaken my suspicions as to your veracity. Is it truth you have been telling me? Have you not been amusing me with fairy tales? I cannot believe " "Miss Rogers, you were sent into my presence by Miss Haaden. Had she possessed any doubt of my integrity she would never have risked the displeasure of your guardian by encouraging this interview. You may trust me: all that I have told you is true." "Then I have indeed been inveigled into a doubtful proceeding by a most despicable rogue. The description you have given of the man who followed the young lady who has since uiea, ana who had begun to follow anotbsr " i., "Who li.is since died." "Sir?" "The poor working girl has suffered the same fate as that of the young lady of Thirty-sixth street." declared Mr. Gryce. "Neither was killed, yet both have perished; one from a malig rER P ,T TOWS. 4 S JL^A X V/ ?> KS ? ipilllBPW M I Author of "The Forialcen | tOBCRT BONNtP'S SONS. nant fever, the other from over-excitement preying on an enfeebled frame." "Oh, where is my guardian? I wish to go home. I am afraid of this horrible New York. It is full of deceit and shame and misery." The detective saw she was on the verge of hysterics and waited respectfully for her self-possession to return. "I am sure," he observed at last, "that your guardian will be one of the first to urge your return if he can be convinced that you are in any danger. If you will tell. me just what has passed between you and this man?" "Oh. very little; so very little that I am overwhelmed at the indiscretion which led me to leave the school just to see a person whose personal appearance and pretended admiration had attracted me. I do not understand now how I could have allowed myself to listen to him. I am horrified.at myself and I hate him so that " "That you are only anxious to see him punished? Is not that so, Miss Rogers?" "Anxious? I would give hundreds of dollars " Give me something less; give me your confidence. I will respect it and only use such facts as will lead to his detection." "Ah, that Is what you want from me. Well, I am only too happy, only " She paused, clasping her hands in sudden confusion and dismay. "What a scandal!" she exclaimed. "How can I hear the shame of it and all the talk? And the police courts?J you spoke of them?oh. do not tell me I shall have to go there. I should die j of confusion and horror. My guardian?" "Do not think of that. If you can be saved from publicity, you shall. At present we want nothing more than a short account of what has occurred between you and this mysterious person in the short interval of time dur in? "which you were aosent iroiu me school. Did ^ou succeed in meeting him? Was he at the place appointed? For I take it for granted he had entreated the honor of an interview." "Yes, yes, but I am glad he failed to come. I went to JerseyfCity; I, who had never been in the streets before without a companion. He had written me a note?but you shall see it. I cannot keep this matter any longer to myself and you look so good, if yon are a detective, that I cannot help but trust you. Besides, perhaps, when you see J what tempted me you will not think so harshly of my folly. I did not mean any great wrong, but was carried away by what seemed like the romantic adventures of some of my favorite heroines. But then, in books, the lovers are always gentlemen, while mine?but here Is the letter. Look for yourself, sir. It came by mail the day before yesterday. AD! how long it seems now. Slie fumbled In her pocket and brought out a note- The detective's eyes glowed; he was attaining the objee* of his wishes with less difficulty tha.i he had anticipated. "All that had passed between this person and me before I received this letter was an interchanged glance or eo. I had passed him in the street several times, and each time he had looked at me in what I thought was an unmistakable way, so I was not surprised at these words, monstrous as they seem to me now." The detective meanwhile had read the effusion which had occasioned so much mischief. It ran thus: "Dear and Beautiful Miss RogersMay an unfortunate, who is not permitted to enter within the charmed walls which at present holds you prisoner, utter one word against the tyranny of the fate which restricts him? "I have seen you and I cannot be still. I have learned your name ana u lias become tlie lode star of my life. Will you accept an homage that must be secret, and believe in the devotion of one who. if he may not approach you, here swears that he will approach no other woman while you remain unmarried. "But must I live In darkness and never break the silence which has hitherto been maintained between us? Is ttfere no hope for me, whose only thought is to make you the protecting angel of my life? May I not hope for one word, one look uninfluenced by the presence of others? If fate can be so kind and your heart so responsive to a noble passion then remember that for three days I shall spend the hour between 12 and 1 in the depot at Jersey City. If you choose to pass through the place you may be certain that one pair of eyes will follow you with a de votion little short of that -which a saint casts upon his guardian angel. "I have no fear that you will hesitate as to who has penned these lines. Have not our eyes told the mutual tale of love?" "Isn't it dreadful?" cricd the now thoroughly disillusioned heiress. ''But when I received it. it seemed to me so beautiful and romantic that I was in ecstacies. I never for a minute doubted the writer, and as he had always looked so gentlemanly, I had not one fear of his proving himself other thau the hero I have worshiped in my dreams. I decided to make the journey lie suggested?it seemed a journey to me- ^nd though to do it 1 should have to risk Miss Iladden's displeasure, I thought the satisfaction I should receive would make me ample amends for any unpleasantness which might follow. How I managed to obtain permission to go out, and how I contrived to olude the companion given me will not interest you. I did go, and alone, but I did not find the satisfaction I was in scsreh of. I got lost, i Tvenf over tlie wrons ferrv. hnrt in in. quire my way of policemen, and when, worn out and bedraggled with dust and stifled with heat I finally walked into the depot at Jersey City it was to find by its dreadful stating clock that I was a whole half hour later than the r i time he had set for leaving. Oh, it was a dreadful experience, and at first I ^ was so discouraged that I sat down and crieS, but afterward I plucked / up heart and began to think it was all my own fault, and that if I had not made so many foolish mistakes I a should have been in time to see him and save him nerhaos from a disan pointment as cruel as my own. But I was late, and undoubtedly would be late if I tried the experiment again. The distance was too great, besides, I J did not believe I could get another op- * i portunity of slipping away, or if I did i that I should succoed in eluding my companion. If I wauted to keep my appointment I must stay in the vicinity. and to stay in the vicinity meant a whole night spent in a strange hotel. For a young girl who had never slept alone in her whole life you will think it took courage Jo decide on such a step. But I was crazy, carried away by an idea. I did not give the man my right name?the hotel man, I mean? and I did not go down to the table. I stayed in my room all the time, and had my meals brought to me. and was dreadfully nervous and afraid, but all that was nothing after it was over. I did not care for that: all that I did care for was the fact that, though- I sat in the- depot punctually from 12 to 3, no one approached me, nor did I see any one that could in any way suggest the person who had haunted my steps e aua wriuen aie mis noie. i "Humph! And that was yesterday?" J "Yes, sir." ^ "I see. You suffered a cruel mortifi- r cation, for which you can now con- < gratulate yourself." 1"01 yes. sir." ^ "I am glad you had the courage to e return." "Where else could I go?" "And that is the whole story? You j had no other experience, and have not i heard from the man again?" "Xo; no. How should I. if he is the | wooer of a dozen other girls? He has j amused himself, and it is over, but my ' scorn and hatred are not over, and if ever I have the opportunity to face ? him 1 will load him with such re- c pronehes as will make even his wicked heart tremble." fl Meanwhile Mr. Gryce had given the "v note which lie held both close and care- t ful scrutiny. It was well written, but g in a stiff and formal hand, which r struck liini like an attempt to disguise 'J the natural writing. J ,"I should like to keep this," he sug- j gested. "It may prove of inestimable t value in determining the identit^ of 8 the writer." "There is something else," she mur- * mured, "which may prove of more use T to you, though I did not mean to tell R you, and may regret having done so. 1 There was a card inclosed in this note, * which if it was not meant as a guaran- c tee of good faith certainly looked like e it." And. with an added blush she " dipped again into her pocket and drew s out a small slip of pasteboard, which g she handed to the detective. "That is J his uame," said she. ^ The detective put on his glasses f again, gave the card one look and ^ started perceptibly, notwithstanding J the self-possession acquired by long \ years of detective service. t "Was this card in the letter I hold?" I "Yes, sir." t "This card? This, with the name * I you here see upon it?" < "Yes, sir." ^ "it io onnthor mnn's parti, surrenti- i tiously inclosed in the note," he <le- 1 elded. "It is not that of the person who has followed you." * "T think you are mistaken. I have t reason for knowing that there is no t deception about this." ^ "What reason? Tell me, my dear f young lady, for this is very impor- i tant." ? "Well, it is the last secret I have.' j One day when I "was out walking we j passed this man standing on the cor- * ner,of a street. He was smoking and j held his cigarette case in his hand. As > we approached he grew embarrassed J and attempted to thrust the case into. ^ his pocket, but bewailed to do so and i it fell upon the pavement. He did not f notice it and moved off, and when I * came to where he was standing I x picked it up. I have kept it and can i show it to you. There is a monogram * | on one side of it. and the letters are j the same as the initials of this name." * "Get it: let me see it, if you please." cried the detective, looking both | troubled and incredulous. She left the room at once. When she returned she found the detective standing before the electric button in the wall lost in a reverie so deep that she had to touch him on the arm to attract his attention. "Here is the case," she said, timidly. To be continued. lie Meant to Tell tlie Truth. M. A. I\ tells a typical Irish story of a witness who was being examined at the Studdert remount inquiry, lately held in Ireland. He was asked: "Did you sell Major Studdert a horse?" "Xo. sor." "Did your father sell Major Studdert a horseV" "No, ?or." "Did your grandfather sell him a horse?" "No, sor." "Well, then, did any member of your family sell Major Stuudert anything?" "Yes. sor." "Who did. then?" "I did, sor." "And what did vou sell Major Stud* (lcrt "I sold him a mare, sor." The counsel sat down and the court roared. Monkey Ride* In Eugiue Cab. When Engine No. oliG of the New York Central weut into the freight yards at Tarry town one night last week a strange face peered out of the cab window. The train carried some animals belonging to the Boston show, j When it stopped at a way station a few miles above Tarrytown, Admiral 1 Farragut, one of the largest monkeys, j escaped. When the train started, the monkey made a quick scramble for the i front car, when the glow of the fire 1 in the cab of the locomotive appealed ' to him. The Admiral made his way 1 over the tender and entered the cab, to the surprise of Engine Driver Ed- j wards and Fireman Martin Kelly, j He was made comfortable and allowed to continue his ride to Tarrytown, j where one of the keepers took him in J charge.?New York Times. .... ..... ? ! SERMON FOE SUNDAY ft tvhi ^ DISCOURSE ON "THE GROUND ass* OF CHRISTIAN CERTAIMY." act "lie Rev. Reginald John Campbell Tells In Beantiful Lan?uaRe of the Assur- a; antes of Divine Mercy Which Buoy an(3 the Hearts of Believers. J Ocean Grove, X. J.?NVrly 10,000 peo- ^ >le filled the Auditorium here Sunaav ft,_ I:-*? *.urt ine UUllIUlg IU J1SLCII t KJ UUC lie*. AUT^IUIUU Fohn Campbell, pastor of tne City Tem>le, London. His subject was "The Ground uav >f_Christian Certainty." He said: wj,( II.v text, or rather."my two texts, will be -j ound, one in the third chapter and four- ^ea eenth verse and the other in the fourth gun ihapter and nineteenth verse of the First are Spistle of St. John: "We know that we mve passed from death unto life, because ' ve love the brethren. He that loveth not guj lis brother abideth for death." "We love unc 3im because He first loved us." bre The thought is not one of simple grati- lze ude. The text teaches us \hat tne power ves >f loving comes from the fact that God is |jje, ove. The writer of the fourth gospel, _]aJ vhether he was or was not the Apostle gU'n Tohn, was prob^olv one of the greatest gon heologians that ever '.ived, because his j0.( piritua'l insight is S'> pro:^und, and the j nwardness of his master mind so com)!ete. The writer of the Fourth Gospel is j,ac >Iain]y the writer of these epistles. He q0( vas undoubtedly John the Divine. He lever refers to himself by name, but only ,JI is the disciple whom Jesus loved. None of q. is would be willing to spare out of our 11 christian experience the fourteenth chap;er of St. John. In this the disciple sets p brth what we believe to be the profound- *; >st and most beautiful ti'uth concerning , 1 lie relationship of the sanctified soul to tou he Redeemer. What a beautiful phrase ha^ s this: "The disciple whom Jesus loved." sur ["his man of wonderfJ ability, who re- ty? nembers.all that Jetus said and writes it wei lown for our benefit. By that he did not cou nean that he was the only cisciple whom wis fesus loved, but he meant to say that he of ;ot his own spiritual experience from the 'the ;ame foundation that we get ours. , * There are sips in the New Testament nai me uiscipit: wnom uesus luveu was at ? me time a passionate, ambitious n??.a. Hark that occasion when James and John J"? vere called the Sons of Thunder: when !?" hev came to Christ and said, "Master, hall we command fire to come down from ^ leaven and consume these adversaries; rours and ours?" And Christ replied, 'Ye know not yet what spirit ye are of." Again, the mother of James and John } , omes to the Master and says. "Master, s ^ ;rant that these, my two sons, may sit the * sne on Thy right hand and the other on j\a> rhv left, when Thou comest into Thy ?P? ;ingdom." She thought, and tney thought, ?s. J ind they all thought that the kingdom "J,8. *-as to be an earthly one; that Christ was o grasp the sceptre of the Caesars and ule over the world, and that those who P ? tood nearest Him would occupy the _j~ >!aces of greatest honor in His kingdom. Vithout rebuking them the Master turned , o the two men and said: "Are you able a * drink of the cup whereof I shall drink, md to be baDtized with the baptism f | thereof I am baptized?" And they anwered eagerly and with confidence, "We "J ire." Then said the Master. "Ye shall in- . leed drink of Mr cup, and be baptized "J8 vith the baptism whereof I am baptized." S The other disciples were mucu displeased p.* nth James and John. Th-y could have V,{" pared themselves the trouble. The Master W11 :new at once?cominc as a Master of the ruth He very well knew?what was in PeiJ heir hearts. The one was seeking the Iel* rown that was corruptible, and that fat?- 11 th away; the other was to live in history I 1' is the apostle of love. What a long way in? rohn must have traveled before this pas- ??e ionate. ambitious man was able to de- >Ler erve this title, "the Apostle of Love." ^ n< rohn gave the greater part of his young p,' ife to the preaching of the gospel or love. "al Coward the close of that long and wonder- 2?? ul career the beloved discipl* was carried ne Sttnday morning to the congregation of ?Pn he faithful. It was his last appearance the t any earthly gathering. His parting tnai >enediction to tl.e little flock comes down l0^ o us through the history of the ages: ? "! 'Little children, love one another." p,ay We know that often the words of our ext were on the lips of tne Apostle John: tha. 'We know that we have passed from a"(! leath unto life, because we love the 91 ] >rethren." And again, the higher exner- *eri ence whicn makes possible the other, we ?er ove the brethren oecause Christ first ?ve oved us." This is not the only experience of the ^ :ind. Some of you might be inclined to v * ;ay: "This is all well enough in ita place o talk about the Apostle John as being j he aoostle of love." But we are not John. ["here are some other people who deserve f ' he title. What about Peter, the impul- t iivo fioViorman' Ppfpr was unHftllhtpd Iv ? mpulsive and selfish and not without his 1 imbition, too. Listen to the conversation 1 n the upner room, lifter the Master has . jerformed the foot washing He begins to .. prepare Kis disciples for His coming in. . le says: "Ye shall all be confounded belause of Me this night." And Peter re- . )lies: "Though all should betray Thee, et will not. I." What he meant to say * i vas this: ''You have made a great deal of " his man. who is allowed to lie on Your )reast. Perhaps it a crisis came he might . lot be as much use as I would. If these ihould betray Thee, yet will not I." The j :ime came when John admitted Peter to . Pilate's hall. John stood silently by, ^ eady perhaps to die for his Master. Peter .. ras hiding somewhere in terror because of he Jews and Christ was dying. And then ifter the resurrection Christ came to him j n secret. Peter wept out his penitence ]eVj ind the Master lifted him up again. Three for ;imes he was asked, "Simon, Simon, son ^rs )f Jonas, lovest thou Me?" Peter an- jn iwered, "Lord. Thou knowest that I love cep Ihee." The last time, grieved because of he question, he replied, with deep emo- not :ion. expressive only of the love in his jje leart, "Lord. Thou knowest all things, en(rhou knowest that I love Thee." When q0( ,vas siven to this fisherman the grand promise. "Ye are of Christ." And the an- or swer of Christ was, "If I will that ve j3 strive and achieve and he stand and wait. wjj *-liat is that to thee, follow thou Me." aw riiese two men, not long since rivals, came ),e :ogether to witness for the Master. Peter ^ ioes the talking and John is silent. Both -wa| ire prepared to suffer in the name of Jesus ap. Christ of- azareth. j-n< The grand certainty in the heart of jn ?very one of these men was that they had js massed from death unto life, through being or roade capable of loving. And they were esj. capable of loving because they loved the jer brethren. Now, brethren, in every age, pec since John wrote these words for us, the p]a ame thing has held true. The ground of |jer Christian certainty has been?through the p]a love ni Hod. There is no other ground of pat certainty to-day. gVC And the witness of the spirit is seen in j9( mfhinfr mnro I Inn this! thnt thnsp ivhn ire the sons of God 6how it in their demeanor. 1 The love of Jesus, wVat it is, none but bee FTis loved ones know, and your American aiu IVhittier, writing yesterday, as it were. say says for us this'morning: "Immortal love an'( forever: fall forever, flowing free." nil But, brethren. John Wesley was one of t0 the greatest preachers the world has ever inj, known: the greatest preacher of the cross (0 since the Apostle Peter. There never was to i man fuller of love for the Master, fuller j0 if inspiration than John Wesley. .How is AVO it witli Methodism to-day? We will make on the question bigger. How is it with the 0f ihurch of Christ to-day? What is our an- co] s\Vcr to be? To-day I notice, or 6eem to (jes notice, two tendencies at work in the tjie world. By the world I mean the world (*.or is you and I know it?the English speak- nes ing world. Oue tendency the new. eager na', ?nd ever wistful doubt in Jesus Christ. j the Christ that was: on the other hand, a disposition to question the Gospel of Jesus jc and suggest that even He Himself might (jjn liave been wrong. nn On this side of the water is a well-known |iv< ivriter. Dr. Sheldon, who has given us a Knnl- which has been sold on my sine ot the water, entitled. "What */. ould Jesu* c bo?" I have known many men in Lon- 1" tlon who would ot enter a church nor read a religious book, but were drawn to jt; this work, not because it was cleverly written, but on account of the words on . the title page. "'What Would Jesus Do?" ,.y [ have heard Christ cheered in a working- V mrti's meeting because He was referred -r to as the first great Socialist, also re- 1 [erred to as an example in economics. j" In our literature of to-day there is ivist- * fill emphasis laid upon tne meaning of Christ. But admiration for Jesus stands T tinker thau incre adorution, '. ut admjra- on. i is not adoration. Men might say a! 6e about the Christ and yet misjudge it the Christ meant to bring to tfii rts of men. Men are questioning th( urance of the love of Goa. Where shal look*for certainty if not to^Jesus? 'here is an optimism in Ai_erican char er which tends toward contentmenl h this present world. I have re rked it in my travels from east to west readiness to take things as they com< [ be satisfied with them. n this assembly, as large cs it is, a holi r assembly, too, there are undoubtedly n who have some great sorrow, anc re are times when many of us have fell le great sorrow. I have found hera anc re we come across silent men, wh< e been beaten in the battle of life, and j have no part in this general optimism 'he world as God has made it is one o uty. This morning, for example, tlx is shining around us everywhere; w< &lad to meet its beams; the verj ihtness affects our spirit, and helps ui look forward with hope into the future t do you realize that there is a tragedj ler every green leaf? Hear the wavei aking upon the seashore! Do you real that the smiling sea surrounding ui terday strangled some mother's son' re are we meeting in brightness anc iness. Do you realize that the sam< . shining upon us is taking the life o le one in some part of this continent lay? lave you never felt, brethren. som< e that you could improve on life if yoi I the power that is in the hands o: 1? b, love, could you and I with Him con spirG. 3 grasp this sorry scheme of things en tire; rould not we shatter it to bits?and ther e-mold it nearer to the heart's desire." t is because of this mood that I hav< nd in America and England that people 'e asked the question, How shall we b< e of God? Where is spiritual certain One man once said to me, "If yoi re master of the community, I think ] Id trust you. I don't think you coulc h me harm. Can't you make me sur< the love of God. Oh, make me sure o victory of Christ!" fow. brethren, listen to me: first of all ir the ground by this reflection, thai only real communion, the only spirit experience that is worth having is nol t which can be set forth in terms o: id; it is not that which can be demon ited by figures, and you will have tc in where tney did?in* the upper room nan must find Christ for himself. Youi 1 should be the reflection of the mine the Master. The only real communion n here, is that which cannot be demon ited. 'or example, suppose the bishop, here ? called to his reward, and while I arr akin? to you some one should say, "H< none." But all that you can now see venerable body, would still be here, anc vou would sav, "He is gone." Yes, il lid be his soul that had gone to make feet the union with Christ. irethren, take the Christ out of mj ritual ^firmament and the world woulc dark and cold to me. There never was ime when the world's neople were it h demand of a Christ as to-day. No er! If you could take the Christ oul liistory, if you could suppose the worlo je as it is men would still be asking foi > ? one to save them, and the conquer love would be craved for by them n if they did not know it. irow, brethren, let us go back to the ist by all means, but let it be th? ist of experience, not simply the Chris! history. Christ went away to come rer. He went to Hjjs own and He nevei them. : is by no means God's purpose that ans i should remain in the house of mourn' On the throne of the universe siti with the heart of a child. No stran cries but whose voice is heard by the ; -whom Paul preached, whom "Johr >d the same, who in the far off davs oi ilee walked upon the hillsides doinj d. He is on the throne now. [r. Moody once told a storv in England cerning the first evangelical missior re. He was asked to call upon a pool a in Dundee who had been bedriader a Jong time. Mr. Moody went to tak? lessing, but instead got one. The mar I been standing under ihe blessing ol vary; it was no shock to him to be told t the world seemed to be upside down I the man would have had a poor tim< t if thev had sDoken to him of his suf ngs. When Mr. Moody left the cham he said: "I guess when the angels pass r Dundee, thev will stop at that hous( refreshments." * Do you see, brethren! vou see? [en like Peter and John who hav? n admitted to the fellowship of th( ?s do not doubt the love of God. Peac< [ pain, ioy and sorrow, are not exclus The latter prepares the way. for the ner. oncl- heard "Gypsy" Smith tell a ?tort ut ljis own little sons.who had plavec fint. and in trying to be stern he nac t them to bed. and they were not tc e any supper, if vou please. He passec rest of the evening tiptoeing about lis ing and wondering what th# effect o! punishment would be. Finally, noi ring any sound, he made his way tc bed chamber. As he leaned over t?h< . one of the little fellows said, "Is thai i, father?" I just went for him anc w him in and the little fellow sobbed , "Father, will vou forgive me?" "Yes son; yes. ves, 1 will forgive you, for J e you." "Then, father, take me dowi supper." We know the great Fathei ause we have looked into the face o! Son. The Life That Conn^s. Tie life that counts is a life on a higl si. yet full of helpful healing sympath] all life on its lowest levels. It is th< t debt which we owe to our fellow met this age. The man who has faith ac ts the uncertainty of life as the conse nee of its larger significance; he can interpret it, oecause n means su iuu<.u cannot trace its lines tnrough to th< I. because it has no end: it runs int( d's eternity. Something better is com out of it than worldly fame or wealti power. He is not making himself. Goc making him, and that after a mode ich eye hath not seen. He can toi ,\y at his work, not knowing whethei is to see its results now or not, bu nving that God will not lit it bi sted. There is a satisfaction in beln| jreciated, in feeling that others ac jwledge our worth or our power, an< gaining that praise from the world tha food to so many of us. But the mai woman whose lives are not on the high plane are those who take un tneir bur is without flinching, or without pros t of reward, who do not look for th? udits of pit and gallery; are uncon ned as to the audience so Ion? as thei y their part well, and in faith ant ience, live the life where they beloni n though their heavens fall.?Annie L Scattering BleMlngfl. "here are men Ave always like to mee ause they always have a kind won 1 a warm greeting, because they do no hateful things, because they forgivi 1 forget, and because they always throv on troubled waters. It is our busines: refresh and cheer, to perform ange listries, to reach out the helping, hand get under burdens to assuage sorrow do nameless acts of kindness and lov$ conciliate instead of tearing oper nnds. to heal instead of wound, to plai heartstrings with the soft, tender toucl the skillful harpist, to cive the cup o J water, to lift out of the slough o ipond. to speak the word of cheer b] wayside. Thus our very soul will be ne a fountain of life and joy and clad s. will become more and more the domi it mood of our life. Jfe is a constant giving out. Like th< ver it emits fragrance. Like the sur gives light. Doing noble deeds, shed g blessings around, diffusing light, lik< oasis in a desert, refreshing wean !s.?Rev. A. C. Welch. Mr. Moody's Iteply. ome one asked the late D. L. Moodj ;ther he had read a certain book. H< lied: "No: I believe tlier-e is poison u at least I have heard so on good an rity." The friend said: "But wouldn'l ic well for you to read it for yourself?' o," said Mr. Moody; "if I take poisor 1 my stomach the doctor has to eom< h a stomach-pump to take it out Whv uld I take poison into my mind? J ;ht never be abk to get it out." lSc mind will be like the stuff it feeds ?United Presbvierian. J X ' 'TEE SUNDAY SCHOOL!; I ?? j INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS , FOR OCTOBER 18. ; ? (Subject: David's Confession, Psa. 81, 1-11 j . ?Golden Text, Psa. 51, 10 ? Memory } Verses, 1-4?Commentary on the Day's Lesson. r I. David's prayer for forgiveness'(vs. I 1-4). 1, 2. "Have mercy." etc. Or, be t gracious unto me. Mark the gradation in 1 | the three words expressing God's love: 1. > j Have mercy denotes that kind of affection [ which is expressed by moaning over an ob. I ject we love and pity. 2. Loving kindness f denotes a large and liberal disposition to i goodness and compassion. 3. Tender mer? cies denote the most tender pity of which the nature is susceptible. ''Transgressions." Sin is described, as ill Ex. 34:7, in three different aspects, as transgression, iniquity, sin; the Hebrew words thus rendered mean respectively, (1) defection I from God or rebellion against Him; (2)' the perversion of right, depravity of conduct; (3) error, wandering from the right I way, missing the mark in life. "Blot out > ... wash . . . cleanse." The removal of - ! ?Ml ?_ J ;i__j i _r 1 t i guut is aiso aescnoea oy me use ot mice i t different expressions. 1. Sin is regarded | ; as a debt recorded in God's book which ] > needs to be blotted out. 2. Wash is fre- | ; i auently used for ceremonial purifications E I (Titus 3:5). 3. Cleanse suggests the com- | : parison of sin with leprosy. This show3 ' . I that the sin is deep-seated and needs a J i Chorough treatment. 3, 4. "I acknowledge." I know my transgressions and freely confess them, i t The willingness to know sin is the first, < step towards repentance.' Observe also j that David uses the plural form as in verse i ' j 1. He had (1) broken the seventh com- < ^ j mandment. (2) caused the death of Uriah, | j ! |. (3) used deceit, (4) covered his sin, (5) * , hardened his heart, (0) dishonored his 1 [ ; family (7) injured his friends, (8) weak- , : , ened nis kingdom. Thus no sin ever stands I | * ' alone, but "each single transgression is the j ? mother of many." Against Thee, Thee j 1 j only." All 6in, even that by which man ' : may be most grievously injured, is sin j | ? ' against God. God alone was greater than I | c I the king, and to God alone David, as kinp, j i " was responsible. "Mightest be justified," . ; I j etc. From the relation of all souls to God | 1 j every sin aqainst roan lies primarily against i ( ' God, so that God, who is the supreme i i ' ! iii/lno nf oil tinman unnHnpt will Vip innfj. 1 'm j fied in His sentence upon the wicked.N [ I David thus recognizes God's justice, how1 ever severe the sentence may be. i ! II. David's confidence in God (vs. 5-8). I ; ] 5. 6. "Was shdpen." David means here j I that he was born with a sinful nature. See \ > j Epb. 2:3. This confession is not made as ; J : an excuse for his sins, but in ytter tell' 5 I abasement. David bewails the depravity : i within, and thu3 abandons all hope of re1 storing himself. "Thou desirest truth." , c | David admits that he is the very opposite ' j of what he should be. God desire- truth : j in the most secret springs of the it and i : I will. Truth here takes the sense of integ- I 1 j rity and uprightness: and wisdom that of } ' i the knowledge of God. ' 1 I 7. 8. "With Hyssop." The figure here I I is borrowed .from the ceremonial of the 1 j law. Hvssop was a common herb which . [ !" frequently grew on walls. This was used j j \ as a sprinkler, especially in the rites for j , cleansing the ieper and purifying the un- , ' i clean. Dr. ,Clark calls attention to the ! 1 ; fact that in the case of the leper the cere- j ( ; i monv of sprinkling was not performed un; | til the leper had been healed, and the ' ceremony declared to the people that such I I ! was the case. "This," says Clarke, "David ] i eeems to have in full view, hence he re* j i quests the Lord to show to the people ' ' j that he was accepted and cleansed." j ! "Whiter than snow." The Lord is able j ! 1 i to take every element foreign to holiness ; ' j out of our nature. See Isa. 1:18. "Bones : ' i . . . broken." A strong figure showing how ; L , a sense of God's displeasure had, as it c j were, crushed his bones and shattered his f | whole frame. He had repented deeply. , III. David's prayer for a clean heart , 1 ; (vs. 9-12). 9,10. "Hide thy face." Do not ' 1 longer gaze upon mv sins, cast them behind I i ' j Thee. "Create." "Mending will not avail; j i | ! my heart is altogether corrupted; it must , ' j be made new." "The word create is the j P i strongest known in the Hebrew for bring- : ing into being that which did not before i 1 | exist, as Gen. 1:1. Compare Eph. 2:10; j ' ' i 4:24; and new creation,' 2 Cor. 5:17; Gal. ] , 6:15." "Clean heart." A sanctified heart ( I ?one cleansed from all sin and made per- , ! feet in the love of God. "A right spirit." j ' j A steadfast, established spirit, fixed in its i ' allegiance to God. that could stand firm i , I and resist temptation. 11. 12. "Cast me not away," ete. God \ admits the upright to His presence, and ; j they behold His face (Psa. 11:7{ 2:12). | | David knew that God would be justified i ! .:n removing His Spirit from him, but he | {.rays for mercy and asks that the divine i ! rejection might not follow in his case as it | ' did with Saul. "Uphold me." The idea of j ' | uphold here is to confirm, render permanent. David desires that the restored state be sustained and abiding. This is the | , point of the petition. But he has not in p rimsen me elements 01 mis swiuiui..v. i l God only can "restore the joys of salva* | tion," and He alone can cause him. to stand , i firm in this restored life. "Free spirit." : I See R. V. He desires perfect freedom of i j spirit so he will easily and naturally do i such things as are right. | IV. David's resolve to employ his life [ I in God's service (vs. 13-17). 13, 14. "Will . I teach." Thus David would show forth j . his gratitude for that renewal and estab- ( I ' lishment in righteousness for which he | agonizes. How he fulfilled his promise is i shown in some of his subsequent psalms, j See Psa. 32; 40; 103. which should be read j in this connection. From bloodguiltiness." i From the punishment of my sin. Here | David no doubt had in view the death of i j Uriah. His blood was crying for ven- j ! geance against him and only God could deliver him. "Thy righteousness." God's 1 righteousness is seen in His pardon to t!he penitent as well as His punishment to . , the impenitent. 15-17. "Open thou." His lips had been I j jlosed, for a guilty soul cannot 6peak the ! praises of God; but God could open them, ! i i tor the power to praise aright is the gift ! I ' of God. "Desirest not sacrifice." See R. | 1 j V. The law of Moses made no provision I c j for th* ^forgiveness or expiation of such j t I sins as uavia naa commuiea. cee i^um. | 8 i 15:30, 31. Forms and types wpuld now I j ' avail nothing. "Sacrifices of God?' Those . 1 which God desires and approves are a 1 broken spirit and a contrite heart; that t : is, a heart truly penitent and humble. ! Such a heart will never be cast out. Mercy _ will always be shown the humble, penitent w seeker. . Marrying Age* In Europe. In Denmark a gir! of twelve and a boy t of fourteen can marry. In most places i ! the limit for age is eighteen for men and ; i sixteen for women. In Germany a man i, can only contract marriage before his i twenty-first year, when he is specially declared of age, and this can only be done when he has completed his eighteenth fc year. The law of France is specially nota1 , ble for stipulating about the legal rights t i of each party, and the relations of eacn 5 ' to the earnings of the other. The man 7 j who marries a Frenchwoman becomes by s ! Frcnch law liable to be called on for 1 j the support of his wife's near relatives , . if they are in need. 9 ' , A Record In Making Shoe*. 1 A pair of women's shoes made in Lynn, r j Mass., to establish a record for rapid shoeJ ; making required fifty-seven different orieraE j tions and the use of forty-two machines t ! and 100 pieces. All these parts were ast sembled and made into a crraeeful pair j of shoes ready to wear in thirteen min* * > utes. > Technical Edncatlon In England. i During the year of 1901-1902 the total iv,,f I - j amount spent on iwiiim.?i cuumu ; j local authorities in England and Wales r was $5,286,993. A part of this was raised by special loans lor the purpose, but the major part came from moneys allotted from the customs and excise. j The Oldest Ship. i The oldest ship in the world, the mail - . schooner Vicilant. running into St. Croix, t j F. \V. I., although now under the French ' I flag, was built of Essex oak at Essex, i j Mass., in 1S02. > ?_ [ Germans Live lu Cities. The Germans are especial lovers of cities. In the nineteen cities of above 200.000 Sopnlation thirty-six per cent, of all the ermans in the country live. rHE RELIGIOUS LIF^H tEADING FOR THE QUIET HOUftWR WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF; SB >oem: Stray Thoughts ? An Eloquent 0 Prayer Delivered by the Rev. B. J? Campbell In the Cltv Temple, London J9Bg ?A Plea For Divine Companion. , HS In whatever place you are, do your best;, Listen oft"to duty's call, .' If Do the things, however small, And leave to God the rest. jfl Tn trhnfprpr nlare votl bo. leave & Smile upon t?e high and low; Smiles were made to trade, you kncq^RHH And greet yoi) afterwhile. Onlv a smile and then a word? And a handshake freely given, Qra|n May be to the heart, jnHHR With the world-thrust dart, HHBHffl The grand pathway to heaven. fll H9 ?Rev. Wm. B. Yot^|Bg^RH A Supplication. The following prayer was made re^Hw&BH by the Rev. R. J. Campoeh at City^^^^^^H pie, London: 0 Jesus, Thou Shepk^H^9|HH mankind, show unto us at noonda^^^^^^^H light of Thy countenance. We canj^HHHflfiSj without Thee, Thou Saviour of thMHfflSjgflH He turn to Thee again: our hearts exi^^H|^M| Thee, and we prepare Thy dwelling plattH^^H enter, we beseech Thee, and dwell witi^HQ^H no fnrpror Wp nrp thnnkful in that ThOO hast done so much for us. Thou Master 01 us all, Thou Lord and God, and art 1 continuing to give unto us every good and :'saM perfect gift. We bless Thee for all that the Cross signifies in our life, in our daily experience, and all that it reveals of hope ? for us in the life that is still beyond us. We thank Thee that Thou hast not l?ft u? vfe j to our ein, nor to the consequences of our j own wickedness. Thou hast visited us,' *,W3 and Thou, the Redeemer, dost accompany us everv step of the road of life. We 1 praise thee tor this consciousness which ' 1 we possess to-day. Forgive, 0 Saviour, that which Thou dost ee^ amiss in Thy, 1 people; we believe that Thou love^t iis inC =pite of our frailities and disloyalties andl 1 failings and fallings; therefore it if thai /ij we look unto Thee with hope and. confi- ,^JI dence to-aay. 'f orgive us m tapb wp"jJH sinned to our own hurt, and grieved the ?l Holy- Spirit of God. Forgive u? if we *Jj haye harmed one another in any wise;i M forgive us- if our example has been suet* j is to hinder another on the heavenly ways / forgive us if our influence:ha* b?n CMC in the wrortg direction; forgive." us if ; I through hardness or cruelty or thought-' I lessness we have shadowed the Hfe of an- ' 51 cither; forgive us because we eo~> readily J forgive ourselves- Let th$ spirit of con- 11 viction be in our midst to-day; fehrind n* 4aM of what we are, show us' what God has J yet to do, and be pleased tor accept, we :-'*m humbly beseech Thee, the tokens-of repentance which in our prayers we offerj' to Thee, and when we go frojn tfris placs " , 3 let it be into newness of life. We uk ? *3 for us all, those who have kndwn Theet ,'j and those who have known Thee not;, those who have followed Thee near at ' M hand, and those who have been following- afar off. Let this service be a blessed one- ^ to our own souls; may none go unfilled 'AM away. It is Thine to give the blessing J Thine is the kingdom, Thine is the power .-f| and Thine shall be the glory forever.; Amen. The Hard Lift. W The sinner's life is a hard life ic ita penalties. He who sows a sin sows a. ;-M Beed which will spring up and bear fruhl ' fw after its kind. The sowing men call pleas* m ure, but the harvest all agree is offering.' , J? It is a hard life to suffer for old din?, and ' to harder still to see others suffer. For noj ^ man can sow evil and be sure that nonet of it will ripen in his neighbor's fields. To" - ??j| ' *- ^ *- *?* 1. v~il - reap tne evu Harvest is uau cuuuku, wu*( ag to see it ripening in the_ lives of tboga , '3 we love is harder yet. "Our increasing knowledge has only emphasized this, cert < jfi tainty of penalty following transgression J The warnings of the book are continually; r;iBm illustrated in the experiences of the worlaj ' Jfj The transgressor's life is hard "in its ;3| deprivations. The question is sometime^ '-3| raised whether the sinner does not, after; all, get more out of the world than thai _1m true disciple. He who has turned frana^ '?% evil to live with God never raises that _ 'tfgj question. He knows that the earth with- - m out peace of heart, without joy in rightf sB and sympathy and good, without the happiness of God's presence and delight or service, is a hard and narrow and unhappy /\ place. The true and full inheritance of the earth belongs to the children of God I and to no others. To be self-deprived of ;/iI the highest and the best is to be cheated of what makes our life worth living. > jfl| For back, also, in every transgressort^HBfl consciousness lies the hard trial of self^S^M contempt. He may not admit it inUUgUl. V;UIlBUlCUtc may uv im vuuvoi.i.v?^^^n and under careful discipline, but in the^MH moments when he sees cleany the sinner self-judged. God has let us ?rit upon tbo OH eeat of counsel, and we see what value wej have put upon our souls in bartering with! evil. It is hard to fear to meet one's own M thought sitting as the judge; to dodge and; shift and evade the quiet hour that brings fl self-condemnation. It is hard to be, amid whatever passing joys, without God and H without hope in the world that is so full ,^1 of hope and so bright with the presence of our heavenly Father.?Congregational- J iat. ' Pretence of God. Jfl Love God. Be devoted to Him and ta Q Him supremely. Have no affection apart from Him. Delight to do His will. Iri all W ways strive to grow into closer intimacy with God and into accord with His mina and spirit. There are blessed results flowing from a life thus spent in the practice of the presence of God. Such practice is the sceret ot peace, it is uie secret 01 a life of happiness and joy. It is the secret of living a life of love and highest usefulness in the world. Guidance amid life's perplexities, wisdom for life's decisions, cheer for life's sorrows,. and help over > life's hard daces come with it. Knowledge of God and resultant transformation into His likeness come with it. It is worth -S our while, both in view of the present and , future blessedness it brings, to practice 1 the presence of God.?Dr. G. B. F. Hal- , I lock. God's Plan. > . ''jjj God is ever better than we thinks Oui^jJ brightest hopes never come up to His / realities. One of His dear ones, speaking in an hour when another wished that the '' ^ present had been different and better, said, confidently: "We know that our Father will never let us miss any blessing which we might have had." Our day is . better for us than an earlier or a later j- - -u i TV. Utt.V wuuiu ucvu. x/i. i uov? this truth strongly when he says: Never picture thyself to thyself under any circumstances in which thou art not. God Almighty loves thee better and more wisely than thou dost thyself." Do we think we can improve on God's plan for ourselves??Sunday-School Times. Overflowing Kindness. Let us hide our pains and sorrows. But, while we hide them, let them also be spnra within us to urge us on to all manner of overflowing kindness and sunny humor to those around us. When the very darkness within us creates a sunshine around us, then has the spirit of Jesus taken possession of our souls.?Frederick William Faber. / IS This is Duty. Never to tire, never to grow cold, to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to look for the budding flower and the opening heart; to hope always, like God; to love always-* this is duty!?Amiel's Journal. | The "TV*eplnj Willow" Song. < Some people have heard of the ballad containing tne words "I'll hang mv harp on a weepinz willow tree," but perhaps it is not generally known that the author was a young man who fell desperately in lova with Queen Victoria, at that time a girj of seventeen. This young lover was heir , ^ to a baronetcy; but baronets cannot ap- fl proach royalty in the guise of a suitor, though it took some time before the ro- A mantic young man could be brought to B understand this fact. When at last ne did so he sat down in despair and wrote the now well-known ballad, which was at that time published in a London paper, and tuen ne emigrated to Australia.