The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, October 28, 1903, Image 2
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?j /\_MATT
I By Anna Katharine Green, ?
CHAPTER XI.
Continued. (
T3 \r>. fl-ftrna moant of nnCP tf) KPP.
X1C1, lUlt V?ij\.v WVWM% ? ? r
but in the meantime there "was another
matter to settle, and this 'was: Who
had purchased the candies which had,
doubtless, brought destruction upon
one of these unfortunate ones? As the
name of the maker was upon the bix
It was not difficult to determine where
they had been bought. But when he
had reached the store and inquired of
all the girls who waited upon its customers
as to the sort of person who
had bought this especial box. he
thought that he should certainly fail in
bis errand, for not one of them could
remember anything about the purchaser
till he suggested that it might be c
gentleman of black mustache and elegant
appearance, when one of the girls
epoke up quickly and said:
"Oh, yes, I remember now. He was
very particular as to Tvhat kind of
candy I gave him. 'Nothing deleterious?'
he said, as if we ever sold anything
hurtful!"
I 1
r*TJ K TDTT?T> "VTT I ,
JL JLU A* AVXA. v
MADAME'S LITTLE D00E.
Next rlay Mr. Gryce had an adven- j
tnre of which he is never fond of c
speaking. When asked about it he
shrugs his shoulders, says he is getting i
old, and turns the conversation upon t
Jiappier topics. Having a regard for t
Mr. Gryee we should be glad to sus- i
tain him in his reticence, but as this 1
adventure forms a link in our story t
we shall be obliged to describe it, c
though we "will not do so without mak- g
Ing our apologies to the aged detective,
whose record, after all, id chiefly one
of triumphs.
As I have already intimated he had J
his own suspicions as to tbe identity
of the woman believed to be the instigator
of the plot formed aganst the i
girls of the name of Jenny Rogers. To <
prove these suspicions well founded be ?
took the first occasion to visit this j
woman. It w?as not easy to gain ad- j
mittance to her presence, but by dint j
of a little man^uvetlng at the door he t
succeeded in getting Into the house, ]
when the first move he made was to 1
push by the girl who guarded it and j
hasten rapidly up stairs. t
He found "Madame," as she was \
called, drawn up at the further end of (
the large front apartment. She "was in t
morning dress and looked frightened, \
&ut he did not appear to notice this ]
fauy more than he appeared to observe \
that tbe room was in great disorder, \
though it was in the middle of the day. i
"Who are you?" she cried. "Why do
I you come here? What right have you
to push yourself into my room in this
way without an invitation?"
"You will pardbnme," said he; "with
a humble bow, I-tell you that I
Lave been sent here by your friend,
Mr. ," and he whispered a name in
iier car. "He is ill himself to-day, and
asked me to come and see if everything
Is going on right, and If you can do
without him for the present."
Her eyes, which had flashed open nt
the sound of the name he had mentioned,
fell suddenly at his final words.
Turning her back on him with an in<Iescribable
air of disdain she. drew toward
the open door of a small closet
and reached out her hand toward a
rshawl, which she took down and
trapped about her.
"You are an impostor!" she said, with
sudden vehemence, "i aon t kdow uuy
person by that nanie, and if you persist j
in staying here I shall call for help."
"I don't think you will raise your
voice," said he, "even though I shut
"this door behind me and lock it, and
put the key in my pocket, so. You are
too afraid of tbe police, Madame Jenny'
Bogers!"
"Afraid of the police!" she mocked.
4iDo I look as if I "were afraid of tbe
police? What have I done to fear
them or you or auy one, for that matter?"
"Shall I tell you?" he smiled, looking
about the room and satisfying himself
that it possessed no other outlet than
the one he himself guarded. "I can
tell you many more things than you
think I can. For instance, just what
your accomplice aiisnneu ??uu nucu
you BUggested that you were not the j
fei only Jenny Rogers in town."
She started, turned pale and flashed j
upon him two very dangerous eyes. ]
But she said:
"Accomplice for wbat? I have no
accomplice; you are talking like a fool. <
and like a fool I- shall treat you. Stand .
.away from the door!" i
"No," saM he, "not till you are ready 1
to accompany me. I have no warrant ]
for your arrest, but I shall have in \
about half an hour, if my man outside i
there is spry." And lifting a whistle i
< . to his lips he blew a peculiar call upon i
n .... _ '
instantly a cnange paestru u?n un (
I- \ face. She did not move, but he In- ]
etlnctively put hi8 band to his pocket. 1
"No tricks," he exclaimed, warningly. ]
"Who are you?" she simply cried. j
"I am Mr. Gryce of the police force," <
"he grimly answered.
She seemed to measure him with her <
?ye. 1
"I am stronger than yon," she said.
He drew his hand from his pocket; i
It contained a pistol. / i
She gave a horrified shriek and ]
bounded into the closet, shutting the i
door behind her. ;
"Put ii away," she cried, "put it ^
awry and I will come out!" <
He smiled, drew up a small table j
to his s>de and laid the pistol on it.
"There. I have done it," said he. ]
"Don't stifle yourself in that place.
Come out and talk."
.She made no answer. <
He took up the pistol again and 1
crossed the room. 1
"Come out," he commanded, and s
pulled at tiie door. It was locked.
He was old and weakened l>y rlieu- (
tantism. but was very angry, and that ]
made him for the moment strong.
Catching hold of the knob he wrenched t
*t the door and actually tore it oDen (
.. . : ?' -'-.<-.5 ?V. . ....
ER * P
LIONS.
Author of "The Forsaken 1
CRT BONNER'S GONC. f
"Now!" he cried and stopped. An
;mpty space was before him.
He said to the inspector, in relating
he story, that he never before felt so
'oolish. Had she gone through the
loor? Had she evaporatd into air?
3e stood for a moment baffled; then
ie tore down the clothes hanging on
jegs before him, and searching the
walls found the evidences of a lock in
he back partition. But it was a spring
? -- -i*- UnAl# U
iOCU, ana as lor iue parunuu nocu u
was so strong that it scarcely shook
mder his "weight, though he cast himself
heavily against it.
Disappointed, but. above all, mortlled
at what promised to be a complete
Jasco. he came from the closet, and
jpening the door into the hall, rushed
aastily toward the back of the house
In the hope of being able to cut short
aer escape. But here he was met by
i blank wall. On this story of the
louse the only communication between
i.~ fmnf on/1 tha ronr Inv throueh the I
^loset, and this was effectually closed.
Remembering that the house opened
jpon an alleyway in the rear, he at
>nce lost heart.
"She is pone," he whispered to himself,
and blushed, though there was no
me there to see.
And his fears proved true. Neither
hen, nor for months afterward, did
he police succeed In laying hands upon
his mysterious woman. She had seen
mprisonment in Mr. Gryee's eye and
led opportunely, and all the satisfacion
they got out of the matter was the
. ertainty of her being the woman they
nought.
________ ;
CHArTER XIII.
I CHARGE THAT WOULD SHAKE MOST
KEN.
Two weeks went by; two long and
vearisome weeks for Hamilton Dejraw.
who, having received nothing
>ave two wholly unsatisfactory notes
Torn Mr. Byrd, found himself the
irey of Innumerable anxieties, which
ather showed a tendency to increase
han diminish with the lapse of time.
Ele had not been idle, but his work
jad been entirely expended upon the
)icture of the signorina, which he was
iransferring to canvas. In this he
!ound delight, but no pleasure whatever
in anything else that he under:ook
to do. Even the society of
friends was burdensome, and, if he
eft his studio at all it was to stray in
:he direction of the police beadquar:ers,
or to haunt such places as had
jecome of interest to him through aslociation
with the name of Jenny Rogirs.
It was tow June and very warm.
3e was sitting by open windows
jainting. He was tired and heart
iick and discouraged. The work upon
which he should be engaged stood
leglected in one corner, while the
work which alone interested him was
o him at once a pain and a.disappoint
nent He could not catch the look
ivhich made her beauty so individual
ind alluring. It "was in his mind, it
aras in his heart, but it would not
jrow from beneath his brush. He had
m impulse to make a bonfire of sketch
md painting both, and had even half
isen to tear them from his easel when
i rude knock was heard at the door
md a messenger boy came in with a
elegram. It was from Byrd, and
aised his spirits at once.
"Found; all is well; will see you
;oon."
He was gazing rapturously at the
sketch which now appeared beautiful
o him when the young detective came
n. He was looking fagged out, but
ubilant. It was evidently a great satsfaction
to him that he had succeeded
n his efforts.
"I am on my way to report at police
leadqufcrters," said be, "but I thought
t "would relieve your mind to Know
ust where the signorina is."
"It will, it will! You are a good felow,
Byrd, and I am sure you mel-it
nore than my mere thanks. "Where
n the city is she? Aud how does she
ook, tor I take it for granted you have
seen her."
"She is not in the city at all. She is
with Miss Aspinwall at her country
seat in Great Barrington."
"With Miss Aspinwall! She could
not be in better company, could she,
Byrd? But how came you to find her,
ind have you seen her or not?"
"No, I have not seen her. In the be
?lJLLiJlil? Ui. i-U J ccauu X 1 WUCU iVllOD
Aspinwall and astonished her very
nueh by telling her that the signorina
aad come to life. She had seen her in
her grave clothes, and was disposed
for some time to doubt this astonishing
assertion of mine, but when she
svas fiually convinced she showed so
nuch pleasure in the news that it was
rery evident she was a true admirer
Df the slcnorina. So I gave her some
idea of the anxieties suffered by the
friends of the missing singer, and easily
elicited from her a promise to let
me know if she reeeis-ed any knowledge
of the signorina's whereabouts.
[ looked for no results to follow this
effort, but herein I was wrong, for
this morning, just as, in sheer despair,
[ was on the point of giving up my
search, came a letter from this lady,
saying that the signorina had suddenly
appeared in the same town as herself?that
is. In Great Barrington?
ind that if I wished to communicate
rr?ifVi liar T chnill/1 fin/1 of +Vir?
?r'e own bouse, where she had been
nduced to remain for a few days."
"If I only knew some one in Great
Barrington!" sighed the artist.
"Pooh! You must know a dozen."
Degraw shook his head, but lie w?<?
rery cheerful. notwithstanding: life
lad reassumed its ancient aspect, and
ie cast loving glances at his lately de;pis-.'d
painting.
Mr. Byrd smiled, uttered some words
>f admiration and then turned to go.
3ut before he left he remarked:
"You must not be astonished if in
he event of your finding your way to
Sreat Barriuzton vou run across a
detective there. You know tlie opln' i
Jon has changed about the death of *
the s?rl "who was found in the alleyway.
She is now thought to have ^
been murdered, and as the murderer
has not vet been discovered it is only
common prudence that the girls who
Lave been or are likely to be subject '
to his machinations, should be onder
the guardianship of the police."
Mr. Degraw assented, and the two
young men parted, Mr. Byrd being j
anxious to respond to a summons he f
had received from the inspector, and I
the artist being equally eager to put *
into execution a plan that had sug- j
gested itself to him just as Mr. Byrd 1
was leaving. This referred to the 1
possibility of getting a certain brother g
artist of his to join him in a sketch- B
ing itour among the Berkshire Hills, t
There had been Rome talk of such a *
thing the year before, but It had fallen 5
through. This time lie was deter- c
mined upon reopening the subject and t
bring it to a definite conclusion. He, *
therefore, soon followed Byrd into &
the street, and before nightfall so sue- i
ceeded in infusing his own entliu- <!
siasm into the mind of his friend that c
he procured from him a promise to
undertake the expedition at once, t
Elated and gay with hope the light- a
hearted artist returned home. Life, jj
earth and nature seemed changed. c
He sang as he-bounded up the stairs c
leading to his room, and the sound of J
his cheerful tones seemed to shake the
great buildings and lend sunshine to e
its somewhat dismal halls. But he 1 a
did not sing long. As he reached the : ^
floor where his own room was situated j
he perceived two men standing like a | '
couple of eliadows before bis door, i ?
and the surprise cfcilled bis blood and j *
bushed bis gayety, for the fa'ce of one j 1
was tbe face of Byrd, but so changed a
from what it bad been a few hours ?
before that he would scarcely have j,
known it if he had not recognized in j 1
lijs companion tbe famous Mr. Gryce, I 3
who had been introduced to him at po- ! J
lice headquarters. J a
At his appearance both of these per- j v
sons turned, and for once it was the i ^
older detective who came the nearer ; E
to meeting bis eye. t
"Mr. Degraw, I believe." said he. J
' The same." returned the artist. 1
"Will you come in?" And lie bast- j
cned to unlock the door, from which a
they bad momentarily stepped aside. c
"Xo bad news, I hope?" he murmured, ?
as be brushed by Byrd. 5
But the young detective forbore to , ?
reply. He was evidently not in love ' ?
with his errand and preferred to pre- j T
serve a non-committal silence. Mr. i n
Gryce,-on the contrary, was alert and j *
at his ease. He cast aamiring giances i 6
over the studio and paused before the i
painting of "A Poet's Dream" with I t
hearty appreciation in every feature, j J
But he lost no time. I
"Mr. Degraw," said he. "we have j i
come upon a disagreeable errand. Iam i 1
charged," and his eye left the picture, j J
though it did not travel to the artist's | ?
face, "with a warrant for your ar- ! 1
rest!" j ?
"Arrest?" The artist laughed; what
ridiculous joke was this? f r
"I fear you do not understand," ob- ; (
served the detective gravely. "The . r
charge is murder, and here is my war- ?
rant!" j r
CHAPTER XIV. j f
MASTER OP THE SITUATION'. i fl
I t
There are some blows that fall with j,
such suddenness that they daze the ; *
faculties and make the recipient of \ *
them seem unfeeling. Such a one was J
a ? /1oto/>+it7o tnolr from his f
iuxo. ili3 iuc uvkvv%*f V ?vw? - - ' ?
pocket a folded paper Mr. Degraw J
stared at him utterly unmoved, and j ?
when the document was thrust into n
his hand he opened it and surveyed its a
contents as if he were obeying the i *
beck of a friend in a matter in which j f
he possessed no personal interest. But j
at the sight of his name, with the offi- .
cial signature beneath it, he flushed, j ^
and tossing the paper back cried has- j ^
tily: I 1
"This is too much!" and glanced at v
Byrd as if still influenced by the idea I .
that it was all a joke at which he had j ^
the right to become a trifle impatient. I n
"It may prove too much," responded j t
Mr. Gryce. "So serious a charge is J
? ""I'l* wlthftnf nvnnf tr> hsrlc it. i *
11UI UiUUt' H11UVUI, vv ?w v
You are in the hands of the police, sir. \ d
Is there anything you would like to ?
do before going with us?" j
.Then Mr. Dcgraw turned pale. j r
"Byrd!" he cried, "what does this i<
mean? What has happened? Is auy ! ?
one dead, or am I under the influence ' \
of some vile nightmare?" j "
"Yes," assented the detective, "some j h
one is dead. A young and innocent j ?
girl, who trusted you?" a
To be continued. e
v
Hinta For the Bleb.
t<
The following literary hints for tne j t<
wealthy aad cultivated were taken J1
from a German publisher: jj
A gentleman does not use eau de col- 0
ogne and read greasy volumes from a j c
circulating library. | ?
A gentleman doeB not borrow good j ti
works when he is in a position to *
buy. jj
A gentleman does not talk about the n
latest literature when he is acquainted ; *
only with what has been said of it by i P
the reviews. J "
A gentleman does not cut books with j ;
his fingers, even after having washed i c<
!-!_ 1 J. si
lilS 11UUUS.
A gentleman does not possess a box j ^
of carpenter's -tools, but no paper p
knife. jj
A gentleman does not receive books q
for review and then give tbem away *<
or sell them without opening them. tl
A gentleman does not make presents ^
only of things which are entirely with- v
out intellectual value. e<
A gentleman does not send to his P
book seller for a parcel of books on ! '
approval, and after having read them, J p,
return them, saying that none of them j ?
suit him. j rj
A gentleman does not buy only cheap u,
editions. t<
A gentleman does not depend for his
reading upon the daily journals and ^
illustrated weeklies.?London Author. w
Tmmway Brake*.
It seems to be indisputable that with
suitable power brakes half a dozen
recent tramway accidents would have i is
_ ! w
ueen avoiueu. i^uteuve ui antra ui 5C?* jr
eral types can be obtained, and though
the choice may not be altogether an lo
easy matter, it can and it ought to be t*
made.?Tramway and Railway World.
pc
A good fellow is generally one you fi:
can borrow money from. . v
I
- .. .
LSERMON FOR SUNDAY
t LEARNED DISCOURSE ENTITLED
"THY KINGDOM COME."
.'he Iter. I)r. Clorenrn Arcgrnstus Barbour
Makes an Eloquent Flea For Fellowship?
Cause of the Dearth of Candidates
For the Ministry.
Brooklyn, N. Y?In the Emmanuel
Japtist Church, St. James' place and Laayette
avenue. Sunday morning, the Rev.
)r. Clarence Augustus Barbour, pastor of
he Lake Avenue Baptist Church, Rocheser,
N. Y.. preached on the subject. "Thv
vingdom Come; a Plea for Fellowship."
The text was from Matthew vi:10: "Thy
:inedom come." Dr. Barbour said:
Matthew's gospel is distinctively the
;o6pel of the kingdom. but in a very true
ense the Bible throughout is the book of
he kingdom. If, as one has suggested,
he conception of a suffering Redeemer
uns as a blood-red cord throuzh the
scripture, it is no less true that tne coneption
of the all-embracing kingdom and
he all-conquering King runs through all
he Scripture as a cord of royal purple.
My fundamental proposition is that the
dngdom of supreme and transcendent
mportance. The kincrdom of God, that
livine nolity over which Jesus Christ if
ting of Kings and Lord of Lords?that
Iaims pre-eminent fealty.
The kincrdom ifl of greater importance
han the local church, of greater importnee
than any communion in any community.
of greater importance than any
ing.'e denomination With any diff?rent
onviction the denominations easily beome
''sects," something cut off in symtathy,
as well as in organization and beief.
from the rest of the Christian world.
There is real danger that the local
hurch or the denomination be exalted
bove the kingdom of God. You know
hat our Roman Catholic friends say thai
protestantism is split up into innumerable
ittle sects, quarreling among themselves,
'In the Protestant missionary work _ ol
fapan." they say, "the Japanese, seeinj
he headquarters of fifteen different and
ion-co-operating sects in the square oi
rokio, wrote to Amcrica. 'Do not send he
my more kinds ot religion." we or tne
Jatholic Chuch are everywhere the same?
n America, in Africa, in Asia, in Europe,
a almost every city and village of every
and: the same form of worship, the same
rticulate and compact organization. We
,re the church, one and united." We
night answer that this is not necessarily
i ground for self-congratulation; that
wherever there is freedom nf inouirv, freelom
of opinion, freedom of will, there is
ound to be diversity. But we are not
iow- discussing the truth or falsehood,
he good or evil, in Roman Catholicism;
re snv that this argument the Roman
>tholic u?es with powerful effect.
True it is that narrow denominationalsm
is helittling and deadening. That was
, significant remark made by one of out
olles:e presidents. "The men who least
omprehend what I am tryin- to do in this
ollege are some professors of the college,
rhev are nob'e, self-sacrificing men. but
ach one considers his own department the
inly really important one, and the idea
if building.un .1 university is somethins
vhicb none nf them can graso." So there
re self-saerificing denominitionalists, whe
lave no adequate concention of the dig'
lity and importance of the church univeral?the
vast embracing kingdom cf God.
"The field is the world." says our Maser,
nothing less; any smaller conception
9 a carieatiTre of Christianity, a belittHnc
if our faith: any ideal short of united
ffort for the conquest of the world-field
b an ideal unworthy of the Christian
lame. "The gocl peed, these are th? sons
if the kingdom;" the words immediatelv
ollow tbe reference to the world-fie'd
"Ihe good 6eed. these a'-e the sons of the
:ingdom." not the membership of any loal
church, nor of aqy single denominaional
body.
I believe that we are coming to recogn'ze
th?? essential unity of the kingdom oi
xod. Many mountains, one globe; many
avines, one mighty earth mass, vastly
xeater than the wrinkles on her face:
nanv regiments, one army; many denomitations,
one church; manv creeds, one
aith: many ways no the hill, one city at
he top, where sits the King on His
h'rone. Denominat.ionalism. wisely manged.
may be used for mutual provocation
to love and good works. Perhaps it
? better to be broken tip e-ternally. that
ach denomination may do its own work.
Jut there must be recognition, and that
ecognition more than a normal one, of
he practical fellowship, the co-operative
eJlowship of believers.
I tim a Baptist bv birth, by training, bv
onviction. I yipld to no one in loylty
to essential Baptist principles. There
re f^npreMtional'sts and Presbyterians
iid Methodists wifh eo.ual loyalty. But
he Christian should bo no bicot. and no
necies of bigotry -s more offensive than
hit of the denominational bigo*-.
Lot no one misunderstand. We are not
f those sentimentalists -who decry eccleinstieal
and denominatiornl organization.
Te are not of th^sc who ideate the man
rho nerches on the denominational fence,
'he fence-sitter is nauseating as lukewarm
rater.
We counsel no sncr.'ficp of conviction,
ut. a mirrorintr forth of the snirit of our
ivine Lord, who prayed for His disciples
nd for those who should believe on Him
hrough their word, "that thev all may bp
ne, even as Thou. Father, art in Me."and
in tnern, r.mt xney rifo may ue in ua,
hat the world mav believe that Thou
idst send Me," that as of old the world
>av recognize us as Hi?. in that these
IbHsh'ans "We one another."
Such a spirit ;s a loner way beyond the
pirit of "toleration." Yet even toleration
j in advance of what we have known,
ven in this "'and of the free." In the
Jarvnrd baccalaureate of this yar Dr.
ran Dvke eloouentlv said of the Pnritan:
Something too little of sunlight may
ave come in t^rouch the narrow windows
f his house. But that house had fonnda:'or?.
and the virtues lived in it." With
11 deference uue to our national forefathrs?and
to them deference is due?there
'ere tenants in the house other than
hose readily recognizable as virtues. Inference.
Intense and bitter, was charac?ristic
of Pi'ritani?m. The Puritan failed
a annrehend the first princinles of relig us
liberty. That it was his independence
f conviction and his demand for freedom
f worship which banished him from his
ative land, but render^ his failure in this
pspect the more conspicuous. He had no
baritv for those who read the truth
I ...Ik 41 Tk? 7?,v,
hich he demanded for himee.f lie wou'd
ot accord to those of different faith. To
is view of truth the who?e community
lust vieM assent; to .his standards of
'orship all must conform. And this purose
to secure uniformity of worship did
ot content, itself with seeking to correct
rror by the gentler arts of Dersuasion;
rror must be rooted out. at whatever
ost. The arm of the State is invoked to
cure uniform'ty. Upon the shores of
fie New World arc re-enacted scenes of
'hich these exiles should long since have
rown weary. The Puritan rivals in cruItv
the persecutors from whom he ha?
ed. We see Holmes, and Clark, and
randaJl dragged before the Governor and
;ntenced to henw punisnirent. We hear
be shrill crv of their clerical accuser as
e smites Holmes before the judgment
?at, "The curse of God jro with thee."
Fe see the three frail Quaker women
jourgfd through the settlement, until rerieved
at. last, at the noir.t of death. We
?e Ann Hutchinson, her reason well nigh
sne. driven through the deep snows to
erish at the hands of sa-ac;es. No elelent
of horror is wanting to the scene.
ine?, imprisonment, wmpping. muti;aons.
banishment, death, await those who
cricr stress of present convictions seek
> be faithful to the lesson ol fidelity to
mscience learned from their Puritan
ithers and associates in the land from
hich they have come. Such intolerance
as hideous enough, though it was based
i Dart upon strength of conviction.
To-day the pendulum has swung to the
ther extreme. We are in a day -when
lischievous moral malaria steals subtly
ito the fiber of si. onjr endeavor. The age
drunk with materialis::. the south wind
lows softly, and multitudes are enervated
r its soothing touch. Some would seem
) think that in this day the (towers of a
fty Christian life and character and of
le great snlendid structure of the ldngjm
of God are going to lean up in the
ight like Jonah's gcurd; that we are
:ing to wake up tome fine morning to
id the building miraculous:;-* finished,
ithout our endeavor, to tte j..rret-stoae.
Understand md, he lir?art of Uc church
still beats strotu anil "true, but great
masses of nominal Christians a>"e in a lotus-eating
atmosphere, listless, idle, unaccomp'ishmg.
Toleration is a long advance from intolerance,
but toleration easily becomes indifference,
and both are utterly inadequate
to express the ideal relationship between
bodies of Christ's followers. Toler,
ate? Endure? Be indifferent? Shama on
those who would thus crucify the Christ
afresh! "Like a mi^htjr army movesi the
church of liod," siiouiaer 10 snouiuer,
heart beat answering to heart beat, steps
swinging in time to the martial music of
the church militant and the church triumphant,
"Like a mighty army moves the
church of God." No regimental sacrifice
of conviction, but above the flag of the
regiment, the flag of the army above the
standard of the denomination, the white
banner of the Captain of the host, the
Commander of the armies of the faithful,
the King, omnipotent and eternal! Not
intolerance, not toleration, not indiffer1
ence, but fellowship, is the rallying cry,
and we may believe that it finds a sympathetic
chord in every heart of this great
I company.
1 A good beginning has been made. Federation
is fellowship put into practice.
! Federation of churches and of Christian
| workers has ceased to be a dream. It is
far from uncommon to-day, in single com'
munities, in counties, in States. Let me
1 indicate a very few of the lines which have
been suggested and actually followed in
this federated work. A religious census of
a given community, resulting in a religious
directory, showing church and Sundayschool
membership and attendance; Christian
citizenship efforts, including those
against the legalized saloon, and against
*v.? Jnoom-otlnn nriH Annihilation of the
day of rest, a bulwark of our national life
now thrown down and trampled in the
I dust?our brethren under other national
1 flags are not free from the bitterness of
this assault; a common rallying for the
; preservation or the securing of an ideal
. public school system; where it can be done
a wise direction of denominational enter:
prises in the way of the founding of new
r churches, thus tending to economy of ef!
fort and wise stewardship of resource, but
: chiefly, chiefly, co-operat:on in the vital,
i invaluable work of the church universal in
! evangelization, this above everything else
?the joining hands of those who believe
, that the world is lost without Jesus Christ
' in harmonious and loving fellowship of
i action for the world's salvation. In all of
i these endeavors we may work together,
> our hearts beating as one in our common
' love and loyalty to our common Lord.
; Let me suggest two thoughts which may
strengthen us in our fellowship.
i First?The enemies of Christ- and Kia
; followers are neither dead nor sleeping.
, Luther said, as a representation of the
church in his day: "Who would paint a
i picture of the present condition of the
church let him paint a young woman in a
wilderness, or in some desert place, and
?J I/**- U in fiffj -p linn a whnfl^
; I' U UII Li aUUUl IltJL ICb UlUi ..vuvy .. ?
eyes are glaring upon her and whose
; mouth3 are open to devour her substance
i and her beauty." That is the natural condition
of the church. When the church
: in that ape, in this age. in an" age, is trulv
> alive, and is fulfilling her destiny, she will
find about her, as of old. men more cruel
; than ravenous beasts. The gospel meano
! battle. It is rightly on the offensive, not
i the defensive. The gosnel divides, when;
it is manifested in a disciple whose em
bodying of the gosDel is strong enough to
divide anything. The block will bear al.
most unmarked the edge of an axe hani
died by the feeble fin -era of an infant, but
< the axe goes cleaving through the wood
I when the edge comes down under the
| sweeping power of a atrong man's arm.
i True, multitudes of nomiual Christians
i live on most amiable terms with the
world, and know next to nothing of any
tribulation or opposition occasioned by
> their profession of Christi-nity. But that
. is not because there is anv real alteration
. in the consequences of close union with
Jesus. It is because their unio i is so very
slight and superficial. The world loves ita
own. and what can it find to hate in the
, shoals of people whose religion is confined
, to their tongues mostly and has nothing to
do with their lives? It uls not ceased to
be a hard thing to be a real and thorough
Christian.
; To be sure, opposition finds different
i foes to-day than in some other days. You
. know to what lengths it. has gone. The
. Inquisition, the massacre of St. Bartholomew,
the reign of Philip II. of Spain, the
Duke of Alva with his satanic deeds in the
Netherlands, the fires of Smithfield, these
ere not so far in the past that mists of
' oblivion have shrouded them. But let
I us understand, mv fellow Christians, that
the world and the flesh and the devil are
against Cnristian building and Christian
, living still, just as they always were.
I do not believe in people looking for
j trouble, searching for some one who will
; consent to persecute tbem. but I have an
idea that the stiDg of Smithfield fires and
the wrenching of Tornuemada's rack, if
those experiences could be reDeated, might
coircct some vagaries ot modern theology.
The thundering summons of the enemjr
at the door might be a wholesome antidote
for some conditions in our churches
of to-day. There is something in the call
to battle, battle for a cause which i9
righteous and supremely worthy, which
stirs the deepest and the best in us. Is
it true that there is to-day little of the
horrnV in rplicrirm te anneal to men? Alas
for us if that be so.
The statement comes from some of our
theological seminaries that there is some
dearth of candidates for the ministry.
Why? Why is it that the ministry doei
not appeal to every stalwart, able, earnest,
unselfish Christian man in his college days:
It does to some. A part of the product
of our seminaries to-day was never surpassed.
But why does not the claim o^
this great vocation press upon every such
an or.e until it is eoberly settled one way
or the other? It is not because young
men are afraid. There was no difficulty
in filling up the ranks of the Rough Rider
regiment, though every man knew that he
was taking his life in his hands when he
volunteered. There was no lack of volunteers
for service when the Merrimac was
to be sunk at the mouth of Santiago bar
bor, though it meant a voyage into me
jaws of death. Eight men were needed;
you know the response to the call for volunteers.
Second?The insistent call for servico
has not ceased. Dean Frederick W. Farrar,
who has but recently passed from
among us, has said: "Is not this fatally
true, that the lives of very inanv are frivolous,
useless, egotistical; that the lives of
very many are wasted and self-ruined by
their own vilest passions; that the lives
of some are like a mere poison and pestilence
to all around them; that it is the
liVes of few only which are noble ana generous,
brave and unselfish, merciful arid
just, pure and true? And the main curse
of most lives is that they think only of
self and live only for self." I hope that
the words contain an exaggeration. I can
but believe that each of us knows in his
own circle lives which, though they be
hidden from public view and knowledge,
are "brave and unselfish," "pure ana
true." But the words of the great churchman
are a challenge and an appeal. The
insistent call for service has not ceased.
Thank God, history shows that the call
has not been in vain. In the social stream
r\f lifa /\f thi'a wnrlrl if ia <rr?nr1 fcn think
of men and women who have not pleased
themselves, but have gone about doing
pood, great souls who in their stubborn
devotion to the truth, in detestation of
falsehood and lies, have faced a lying
world and the hatred of the base and the
storm of weak and cowardly criticism, not
homing their lives dear unto themselves. |
I hear some one say. "We have no such j
call as they," but we have. The only call
they had we have?the call of the need, j
We might, the humblest of us, b<? useiul.
Perhaps very few eyes will be wet for us,
and they not for long, while others, with j
less of opportunity than ourselves, have |
gone down to the grave amid the benedic* j
tions of the poor. Ah, the insistent call :
for service has not ceased. Can we not
strive to rise, to rise unitedly, to rise in
ever strengthening fellowship, into such a
life as is described by the words spoken
of our blessed .Lord, "He went about
doing good."
The great Methodict leader, John Wea
ley. the bicentennary of whose birth has j
just been celebrated throughout the Christian
world, nobly said: "1 desire a league, I
offensive and defensive, with every soldier
of Christ." So say we. Let it be repeated
in ev?r increasing volume until the earth
shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea. "We desire
a league, offensive and defensive, with
every soldier of Chriat."
-i* 1. J.I:' /I i-!. Atrf >U.1, .
' s, i .; - - = - ' .
"THE SUNDAY SCHOOL
i
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS
FOR NOVEMBER I.
Subject: David and Absalom, 2 Sam. rv..
1-13? Golden Text, Ex. 13?3Iemory
Versos, 4-6?Commentary on tlic
Day's Lesson.
I. Absalom stealing the hearts of the
people (vs. 1-8). 1. "'Afte* this." After
Absalom's return from Geshur and his res'
toration and reception by David (chap. 14:
21-331. "Chariots niid norpea." - Absalom
imitated the magnificence of foreign monarchs
in order to make an impression or
the people. Horses were ? novelty amraf
the Hebrews, only recentlv introduced
from Egypt, and were costly and rare.
"Fifty." A son of the king riding in a
state chariot with fifty footmen as attend'
ants would prove a great attraction. David
was so indulgent tnat he seems to have
taken no notice of it.
2. "Rose up early." Public business in
the East is in many places transacted early,
before the heat of the day. Possibly hi?
larly rising was intended to forestall the
king, who was certain to sit in the gate
during part of the day. It would thus appear
tnat he had the real good of the peoEle
upon his heart, and would make a nole
king, just suited to their present needs.
Those in trouble Avere likely to fear that
justice would not be shown tbem, and
would eagerly extend their support to one
who appeared concerned for their interests.
Absalom relied greatly upon his own powers.
Though his fatner* was indeed very
forgiving he despised him in his heart.
3-6. ''Good and rijrht." Thus to win favor
he gave a decision before an investigation
was made. Thy case is a worthy
and righteous one and ought to be tried,
and all thy grievances redressed. "Nc
man deputed. Absaiom guards against
accusing the king himself of injustice, but
he excites in the mind of the people distrust
of the king's whole judicial practice
by saying that there was no regular judicial
process for a just cause. The "hearer" is
the judicial officer whose duty it was first
to hear,and understand the people's and
then lay them before the king. ,JOh, that
I." Thus he professed extraordinary generosity
and interest in public affairs, yet
appearing to have no selfish desire in the
matter. Wc do not read of his wisdom,
virtue or learning in the laws, nor had he
given any proofs of his love of justice, yet
he wished to be judge, and such a judge
that every man who had any cause would
come to him. "Obeisance." The custom*
ary greeting, as bowing to the ground,
"He kissed him." Embraced him as a
friend or brother, apparently forgetful o)
his position and honor. "Stole the hearts."
By his beautv and pretended friendship
with them and anxiety for them he turned
the people from his father to himself. "He
did not gain their hearts by eminent services,
or by wise and virtuous conduct. Absalom
suggested that if he could be judge
suits would not then be so tedious, expensive
and partially decided as they were.
ml 1 - J J .11
JLiiua jic unpcsru upuu iuaujt an uvci um
land, and led them to prefer a worthless
character to the wise, nghteous and pious
David.
II. Absalom's rebellion (vs. 7-12). 7-9.
"After forty years." Rather after four
years. It is generally admitted that forty
years is a mistake in the text. The time
must be the years after Absalom's return
to Jerusalem and his beginning to practice
the base atts of gaining popularity. "Pay
my vow." It seemed to David that conscience
had at last prevailed, and that
right was to be done. Local sacrifices were
still custoniary, and the visit of the king's
son for such a purpose would be celebrated
by a general holiday, and much feasting at
Hebron. David was glad at this indication
of religious feeling on Absalom's part. The
deceitful son pretended to have been a
strict follower of Jehovah even while fce
was in a heathen country. "Go in peace."
j These were David's last words to Absalom,
i They expressed his strong confidence in his
J son, as well as a wish for his happiness,
i He seems to have been utterly without suspicion
that black conspiracy was hidden
I under Absalom's avowed object of going to
offer sacrifice at the place of his birth, and
where he himself had reigned over Judah
for seven years. David was nrobablv. at
IL;- ? - ?1.1? i ?t,?
vii?i time, a, lttcnci iu.\ uiuuaicu. kj\j uc?
I went." To perform the most unmanly and
I base act a son could commit against a
I f&fchcr *
I JO. "Sent spies." To find out public
' oDinion and prepare ,to proclaim Absalom
king when the signal wis given. "Absalom
reigneth." On the sudden spreading of
I this proclamation some would conclude
I David was dead, others that he had rej
signed, and thus they that were in the seI
cret would draw in many to appear for Ab|
salom, who, if they had rightly understood
' the matter would have abhorred the
thought of it.
1 11, 12. "With Absalom went 200 men."
I These were courtiers such as usually aci
eompanied kings and king's sons on their
I journeys. They were probably of the prini
cipal men of Jerusalem, whom he invited
! to join him in thp feast on his sacrifice.
I They were kept ignorant of Absalom's
wicked plot. "Ahithophel?David's counI
eellor." It is supposea by the Jews that
! Ahithophel was incensed against David for
! abusing Bathsheba, his granddaughter. He
j had been David's most trusty counsellor;
! so highly valued was his advice that men
| regarded it as an oracle of God (chap. 16:
I 23), and long had the king profited by his
j wisdom and experience until the outrage
i upon his family made him retire from the
king's court to his native city, Giloh, near
Hebron. The manner of Absalom's sending
for him seems to indicate that he was
already connected with the plot. "The
I people increased." This shows that deep
| and general dissatisfaction existed at this
I tmiu against lijc per&uii auu ciuuivjit ui
I David.
! III. David's flight from Jerusalem (vs.
13-23). The rebellion proved popular. And
Absalom moved swiftly to Jerusalem. As
soon as David heard of it he proposed to
flee from Jerusalem and leave the city and
the kingdom to his son. This action seems
j very strange. But, politically considered,
David's action was the wisest that could
be taken. For (1) so sudden was the outbreak
that the city was not in a condition
to stand a siege, and the popular excitement
had so seriously affected the citizens
that David scarcely knew whom to trust.
He might be betrayed if he remained. (2)
i He would not fight against his own loved
! son. (3) David^ kind nature induced him
to spare Jerusalem the horrors of a siege
and the risk of being taken by assault. (4)
He probably judged, too, ana rightly, that
delay woula be unfavorable to Absalom's
plan, an opinion which Ahithophel held,
i too (see 17: 1, 2), and also Hushai (17:
i 7-13). (5) It must also be remembered
j that in time of peace David had no standi
ing army with which to resist this sudden
I attack from so unexpected a quarter. (6)
I Possiblv. too. the remembrance of Nathan's
prophesy (12: 10-12) tended to paralyze
David's natural vigor and incline him to
gentle counsels.
May Revive 8a;?r NaKinf<
Richard Tizard, formerly Superintendent
; of the Rio Grande Sugar Companv, which
I flourished about ten years eye under State
subsidies, has been at Rio Grande, N. J.,
. for a week looking over the tract of eev:
eral thousand acres still owned by the
| company, with a view to making preparai
tions to revive the industry. Mr. Tizard
! nays the experience of the eorr.uany proved
| that the business can be made profitable
| in New Jersey, and it is willing to try
! again. James P. Scott and Charles Eliis,
! large stockholders, of Philadelnhia, are
I interesting a number of capitalists, it is
claimed, and it is expected that a crop of
C?ne will be planted in the spring.
Sixty-three M'llcs Lone.
A fence is being constructed entirely
around the lower Brule reservation, in
South Dakota. It will be reirarkab".<? in
the way of fences, being sixty-three miles
in leneth. It will be comnosed of four
wires, placed on posts set a rod apart, cedar
and ash posts alternating. In its construction
2o2 rai'es of wire wi!l he used.
The work is bein? doie entirely by Indians.
It is reported that in the spring it is the
nurpose of the Government to issue to the
Indians stock cattle, with an idea cf contributing
in this way to the eventual selfsupport
and independence of the Indiana.
Pittsburg TVanta Convention.
Pittsbur* is the latest aspirant to entertain
the Republican National Convention
next year.
' ' '
> .1^1
, THE RELIGIOUS LIFE ti
; READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR I
WHEN tHE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. 1
' r Poem: The Honr With God?Perils of Prlr. . -'vjj
liege?Position, Family and "Wealth ID' |
1 Mean Added Responsibility For Those- A
Exceptionally Jfavored. a
1 Mv God. is any hour eo sweet, *
From blush of morn to evening ^ar, ru
As that which calls me to Thy feet,
That hour of prayer?
Blest is that tranquil hour of morn, ' |*|8
1 And blest that eolemn hour of eve,
,r .When,, on the wings of prayer upborne,. '&
The world I leave. ^
Then is my strength by Thee renewed; 1
Then are my sins by Thee forgiven;
i Then dost Thon cheer mv solitude . L V
With hopes of heaven. / ' $
i Hushed is each doubt, gone erery fear;: .
, ] My spirit seems in heaven to stay;
i And e en the penitential tear
Is wipea away.
Lord, till I reach that blissful shore
No privilege so dear shall be,
'As thus my inmost soul to pour . j
In prayer to Thee. A
Da tie* of the Strong:.
Christ taught a proportionate respowSbility,
says the Boston Congregationalism ' J
"To whosoever much is given, of hinv ' 'Sa
much shall be required, and to whom they
| commit much, of him will they ask the- Y*
| more." Great gifts and privileges, there:
fore, carry with them a corresponding 'dan-. ;
i ger. This is so with personal gifts, it is ;'&{
i ! (InnHu an mifK mtr in f?nrruir*t?. '-*.4
' | bodies in which we hold a membership. .: -?4
The strong man likea to use his strength. '
; 1 He may use it for evil, but he is not Htceljs; "
: to let it lie unused. In the parable it w
' i not the one who haa ten talents who hide*- : ./
* ' them away unused. The great dangef is*
1more frequently with the weak, who rest
| upon the attainment of others, and" fell to*
1 | exert and improve what strength they ,
; | have. The perils arising from privilege*
' I are most frequently the perils of the weak
; and the few talented.
1 | One such jseril is that of narrowness of
' I view. Prosperity is, on the whole, eicep1
| tional, but the thoughtless members of a ,v?
successful church or company are apt to- m
fall out of sympathy with the unsuccessful
members. Members of strong churches
hear with some impatience the call for help
in mis9ioti fields. They are used to
; strength, their imagination is too feeble to
enable theip to sympathize with the strugI
gle and hardship in which all great worlc t
i narriria TVio T>AfH>Ana11? nmumapAtM
L/CK1U2. J- liv ptcwuaui vu^ . . ,.cially
the prosperous inrough inheritance,.
have little patience with poverty or mi* M
fortune, which too often seem like crime*..
But to be unsympathetic is to he dead .tothe
fellowship of believera, to whom Christ H
prophesied tnat they most suffer tribulaIn
the same way pride of family ip often- , WfL
i treated as if it were a virtue which the
j owner had himself acquired, instead of a \<A
j responsibility which God has laid upon
him. This view on good descent as a
ground of personal merit is as commbn a*
it is amusing, but it easily becomes & peril " '
to the soul. The same is often true of national
pride, which also is God's tall to- j
great responsibilities. To be an American ?
is only a matte* of choice to those who- .V
| are not born Americans. To be a good . i
American is a responsibility and an bp- ' ,
i .portunity. The dancer is that we ro&y
' think that because America-is so string vG
we can afford to be weak or careless ciii- . '
; zens. To be an American is little. Three
assassins of three Presidents have been
! Americans by birth or choice. But to be<
the right sort of an American is much. , ^
! The church is made up of men who lift,
' and men teho lean, of men who are ffced- .1
I ers of strength and men who are parasites.
I The world is in need of a whole-souled^
unanimous, growing and Christ-like chorch, r> ,j'
] It is a peril of privilege if any disciple be- '< >
j lieves that this need does not include hi*
.1 own enthusiasm and growth toward Jii'
| strength. The strong can never help the
weak as they might dfo, until every church."
has all the working force at its disposal > ,3p
which God has given. The bracing atmos- (
I phere of struggle may be far better for the ^
| soul than confidence in the attainments '-"''4*?
and the strength of which we are a part, ' !A
but to which we contribute nothing.
This "Warm-Hearted World. <"
The last time that Frances E. Wfllajd. -' ~;L
spoke to a Washington audience she told.
I of a Chicago bootblack, who with his kit ?
j on his shoulders and a package of news- < V...
; papers under his arm, stopped at the coll ' f };j
of a man with a club foot. He worked j
j away at the man's shoes, giving them .as ' J|
I fine a polish as he could, ana when the job V
j was done the man threw him double pay, 7 ^1
j saying, "No change; I made you more -oM
i work than most folks do." . *f|
j Quick as a flash the little fellow banded aHl
: back half .of the money, saying, with hin ^^EK
1 eyes full of earnest sympathy, Oh, mister,-'
I couldn't make money out of your Hflyfli
trouble." H
Not far from Washington there lives a
boy who has to bear the heavy burden of
, deformity, but so bravely does he bear it
1 that he is the very heart of his home, the
i brightest and cheeriest and most helpful
1 one in the household.
> .Not- long ago he went out and hunteo^n^^N
up a situation for himself, so that be mightHfflHB
J be able to pay his share of the family
: peniKB.
Somebody ashed him, "Don't you find
rather disagreeable going about as yo?^^^H|
i have to now?" ^HBR
He looked up with his bright.
smile, and answered quickly, Oh, no^HEflB
everybody is kind to a fellow in my
i with a slight gesture toward his back
' he spoke. '"^VhH
I There is plenty of love and eympathy^^MM|
in the woMo. after all, if our eyes are opeo
to see them.?Christian Endeavor World.
Re*t. ^
What is rest? It is "to step out of self- ]
fife into Christ life; to be still and let j
i Him lift you out of ltji to fold your hand* J
' close and hide your face upon the htm of fl
I Mis robe; to let Him lay His cooling. 1
{ soothing, healing hands upon your soul and j
I to draw all the hurry and fever from its 1
1 veins; to realize you are not a mighty mes- '
i senger, an important worker, of His, full
i of care And responsibility, but only a little?
(/child, with a Father's gentle -bidding to- "4
| heed and fulfill; to lay your bu*y plans V.
ind ambitions confidently in His hands, a?
j a child brings its broken toys at its motbI
er's call; to serve Him by waiting; to
i praise Him by saying, 'Holy, holy, holy,' a
I single note of praise, as do the seraphim
| of the heavens, if that be His will- to cease
! to hurry so that you lose sight of His face;
to learn to follow Him, ana not run ahead
of orders; to cease to live in self and for
self, and to live in Him and for Him; to
love His honor more than your own; to be
a clean and facile medium for His life-tide
to shine and glow through?this is consecration,
and thiB is rest."?Atlanta Constitution.
. ,r.V
All Hare > riace. 1
Every brick in the wall has its place,
and a place no other one can fill. It may
be hidden from sight in some obscure nook
in the building where admiring eyes never
rest upon it, but its importance may be far ]
greater, and its mission far more essential ' jfl
than some that are more conspicuously i
placed. God has made some lives to be 1
hidden, some for the night and some for
the day. They do <.ueir work unseen, unheralded.
No one proclaims it. Their
names seldom get into the papers. But in
the mind of the Great Builder their inconspicuous
p'ace in the divine plan is of great
importance.?United Presbyterian.
ItnjniyrntiN Number 20,000,000. |
Figures fomri!cd by the Bureau of Statistics.
at Washington, show t\at rhs total
imrnieration into th? United Stages since
1320 is 20.000.000. The number of foreignborn
persons now liv'n? in the Uniied
States is 10.000.000. and the number of persons
or fn-einfu parcntag" exceeds 2?.OCO.ODO.
lie fore 1820 no records of immigration Z
nere &epi.
' Honor Iaventor of " Skat." ?
' 'A fountain waa unveiled at Altenbarg,
capital of the Duchjr of Saxe-Altenburg,
Germany, to preserve the historical fact
that "skat," the national card game of
Germany, was invented there by a lawyer
' named Hempel in 1817. , ^
? -hi