Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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im .. .1 .mil iiiiifi Cj 'Xj[ ATI I By Anna Katharine Green,] COPYRIGHT, 1830, BY R CHAPTER XIV. Continued. "Ob!" exclaimed the artist, turning with irrepressible anxiety toward Byrd, "has anything happened to the eignorina?" It was said with so much feeling and with such a frank disregard of ?rvrvAnror?nno thof ATr ClrTTOf* inCAnSllll'U softened toward the antiaue lamp he was at that moment considering. A? lor Mr. Byrd he flushed and answered gravely: "I have received' 110 turther news from Great Barrington since seeing you this afternoon," and turned away before he had finished speaking, as if Ihe felt it painful even to address the artist. Mr. Degraw may have aoticed this expression of reluctance, but, If he did he did not show it. On the contrary he immediately hurst out: "Then of whom are you speaking? I know no young girl." t. "Do you know Jenny Rogers?" f'Vv jv It was Mr. Gryce who spoke. The artist shivered. "Jenny Rogers?" he repeated. "Yes," pursued the other; "she seems to have known yoth" . The artist looked dazed. "Not the Jenny Rogers in whom you have professed such deep interest," proceeded the detective, gravely, "but a more defenseless girl, because .1 more friendless and ignorant one. It Is in her regard you are arrested. So much I feel at liberty say, but no more. As for yourself, you need say nothing. Silence commits no one, but speech is not always so safe." "But silence is cowardice in an innocent man, and nothing can ever make me keep still over an outrage which has no excuse in fact. I commit murder and upon an innocent girl! Why, your own man, Byrd, will tell yon that it Is an accusation too ridiculous to he seriously considered. Even if I knew the girl, which I do not, for I take it for granted that you mean the one who perished in the blind alley, I have had no reason for injuring her or any one. You might as well arrest the first man you chanced to meet; it would not be any more unreasonable or absurd!" "There is where you make a misSake," interjected the other. "The first man we chanced to meet would sot, in all probability, bear the somewhat unusual and striking name of Hamilton Degraw." "And what if he did not? What has my name got to do with this matter?" "A great de3l. You had better come with ug, Mr. Degraw. Perhaps you can convince the magistrate that you have been arrested under a false charge. If you can I shall be the first to congratulate you, for you certainly pi^int most exquisite pictures." \ "The magistrate! Well, let us go to the magistrate. I ask nothing more than a sensible man to talk to. Murder! I conld be angry if I were not so much astonished at the senseless offlc'ousness of a police who could ar-1 rest me on such a charge as this." Whether Mr. Gryce secretly believed In his victim's innocence, or whether he was disposed to show one of so much talent every consideration in his ppwer, be not only managed to allow him to pass seemingly unattended through the streets, but took him down ta police headquarters, instead of to a magistrate as he had threatened. Here he found the inspector, and bringing the two together he remarked in excuse: "Herp is Mr. Desrnw. sir. TTp sn nt terly 6eouts the idea of liis being in any way answerable to the charge made against him, and is so ready to give any explanation we may require that I have brought him to you instead of to a magistrate. Have I done right, sir?" The inspector looked at young Degraw, who bore his regard so frankly that he at once inspired confidence. "We will see," he returned. "If Mr. Degraw can answer all our questions satisfactorily, why, it will be a treat point gained, of course. But we do not require him to speak at all; we only give him liberty to do so." "Good," ejaculated the artist. "I am only too ready. First, then, why do you accuse me of murdering a girl whom I never saw, nor of whose existence was I even aware, till I heard of ber death, here on this very spot at the time I came to see Mr. Byrd on a matter utterly disconnected with this subject?" "It is a direct question, and I will answer it directly. We charge you with her murder because you alone, of all the men in town, answer to the name and appearance of the person who for the last three months has been hovering about the steps not only of this girl, but of others bearing the pimple name of Jenny Rogers." "I do? Impossible!" "Not at all. You certainly have made the acquaintance of one such person, have you not?" "The signorina." j "Called 'the signorina.'" : "Yes, yes! but she " "Oh, I know the story; Byrd. here, has been forced to tell me: a very improbable story, by tho way: so improbable, that even an old dealer in mysteries like myself has ventured to question its facts, and believe only in your extreme desire to recover traces of the tvoman "who Las seemingly fled fi<>m you." Mr. Degraw drew back astonished. Could his interest in the lovely singer be viewed in this way? He looked at Byrd and felt relieved to catch a gleam of the old confidence in that Officer's friendly eyes. "But," cried he, "I can substantiate fbis improbable story, both by written evidence and competent witnesses." "You can?" "Yes, but before doing so, let me t?4ow what excuse you have for saying that a person of my name and ap *. . &>' i rER - p -LIONS. Jl. ? Author of "The Forsaken | OBCRT BONNER'S SONS. f pearance has been seen in connection with these various young girls." The inspector hesitated, but not long. There was truth in the artist's eye, and he was glad to recognize it. "Mr. Degraw," said he, "it is not usual for us to give so much advantage to a man charged with a crime as to tell him the reasons for his arrest. But I am willing, in consideration of your name, which is rapidly growing illustrious in the art you have chosen, to lay before you these facts. .First, the gentleman who haunted the steps of the Miss Rogers who attends Miss Hadden's school wrote her a letter, which, if not signed by his name contained a card which revealed it, and that name was yours, 'Hamilton Degraw.' Secondly, lest you should argue that this card carried no weight with it, as it might be a stolen one introduced into this communication by the unprincipled author of the same I will add that some days previous to its receipt this same young lady was walking in the street and saw the gentleman who was supposed to have written this letter drop his cigarette case. As he did not perceive that he had done this she had the opportunity of picking it up. She did so, and behold! upon one side of this cigarette case a monogram was inscribed, the letters of which are undeniably an EL' and a 'D.' Thirdly, we have in our possession another letter, written by a gentleman of this city to a different Jenny Rogers, in which a Mr. tTAmt'UAM TTT if, 4 rt rtV iJ. a U_l 11 LUH -L/ ltd 1UUUUUCCU \.\J liVi notice. And this letter was carried to her by a person of similar characteristics to your own, as was the box of bonbons received by the girl who was supposed to have died from the poison which had been Infused into them, but you will say no man can have a monopoly upon any one name, nor are you the only person in the town who can answer to the general description of tall form and easy manners, black mustache and gray eyes. This is true, but it is strange to have them united, and that in the person of one who does not deny that fie possesses an intense interest in one of the unfortunates who bear this fatal name." "It may be strange, but the world is full of strange things. I know a man rohn Ts-pnf from New York to San Francisco, and there, out of all the women who inhabited that town made the acquaintance and married a girl who wa6 by blood his own sister, though he did not know it and never could understand why the announcement of his marriage affected his father to such an extent as to drive him into a speedy grave. Is not that a stranger fact than this?' "Perhaps, but " "I know' there is a conspiracy against girls by the name of Jenny Rogers, but how came I to know it? By hearing it spoken of here. Byrd can testify to that." "And I," spoke up Mr. Gryce. "The question is: Was that the first you heard of it?" quoth the inspector. "No; the question is: Am I the man who has been seen in connection with these innocent girls? I swear I am not, and I expect to be able to prove it. Have you any specimens of his handwriting here?" Mr. Gryce produced the letter given iwui uy xue uciruii. ucucss. "Compare it with this memorandum I wrote this morning," urged the artist, tearing a leaf frota his notebook and handing it to them. "There is but little similarity," adjudged the inspector. "But this letter to Miss Rogers is manifestly in a disguised handwriting," objected Mr. GYyce. "It is immaterial," quoth Mr. Degraw. "Any witness who saw the writer will at once tell you upon viewing my face that I am not he." "You are willing to submit to this test?" "Of course; why else do I insist upon my innocence?" The smile he gave them was irresistible. They all three showed the influence it had upon them, and the inspector, looking at Mr. Byrd, made a quick and meaning gesture. The detective seeing it nodded and went toward the door, but was stopped on his way out by the artist saying, > forcibly: "I snail not be satisfied unless you bring witnesses also who can prove I am not the gentleman who carried letters of introduction to the Miss Rogers you have alluded to, nor the person who bought bonbons which are said to have been poisoned. I desire a complete justification and you can give it to me." "We 6ball be only too happy," returned the inspector, and gave Byrd a second look, "which sent him speedily cut. "It will be some time before these persons can be got together," observed the inspector, as the door closed upon the youthful detective. "Will you sit down, Mr. Degraw?" "With pleasure, sir," rejoined the artist. He did not notice that his chair was so placed as to be in easy view from the open door, but if he had he would have taken it even with greater alacrity. Mr. Gryce, having business to attend to, soon went out. and presently the inspector followed liira. The artist was left alor.e, but this did not disturb him. Nothing seemingly disturbed him, though men came and more than one curious face looked into the door. At length the inspector returned. He was beaming, and held out a congratulatory hand. "It is all right, sir." said he. "You are not the man, and you are at perfect liberty to return home." The artist bowed with unmoved selfpossession. "Do you mean," said he, "that 1 have been seen by tlie witnesses I suggested?" "I do." "And they all unite in convincing I you that I am neither the man w!k made the trouble at Miss Hadden's school, nor he "who bought the deadlj bonbons, nor even the Mr. DegraTi who brought letters of introduction tc the young lady who gave you mj name?" "Yes. sir." "Then I depart satisfied. You nav< confounded me with some one whe possesses a similar name, and alsc owns a like complexion. When yoi have found this man please let me sec him. It is all the reparation I ask foi a mistake which possibly was uoi without its excuse." He bowed and passed quietly out It had been for him an anxious twc hours, little as he had shown it. CHAPTER XV. FRIENDS. Tn a summer house, half covered with verdure, sat two beautiful woni' en; one with a noble poise of head, a gracious and dignified manner, regulai features and a womanly expression the other with slighter proportions but with a strange, unearthly sweet ness in her look and tone that went al once to the heart and awakened its deepest emotions. The former was blonde, the latter of a fair complexion but with an aureole of dark hair anc pvdc that wpta larze. black and bril liant. They sat side by side, the violei dress of tbe one mingling with the white garments of the other, and tc neither could a man have said "No,' had the language of their lips been ol entreaty or the glance of their eyes ar invitation or appeal. Miss Aspinwal was the younger of the two, but sh( looked by three years the senior of he: more delicate and childlike companion They are talking. Shall we listen t( what they say? "And you cannot sing to me?to m( who overheard you once at the sig nor's and was so irresistibly moved and charmed that I stood outside the door with my hands clasped and nij breath hushed, thinking I had cbancec upon the performance of some greal prima donna?" "I might sing for you if I thoughi we were alone and none of your mans guests were hidden behind the cur tains or portierres. Indeed, I know that I could sing for' you, the one menu woo nas snnieu upuu iue m iuj misfortune and opened her doors tc shelter my defenseless and unpro tected head. Oh, I am grateful to you I am so grateful that I would be will ing to do much more than sing foi you, should c-hanee ever put it in mj power." "Your company is all that I askdear signorina. Since that night whet your hopes came to such a disastrous end I have cherished but one wish, and that was to open my arms in <?om fort to you. But a strange timiditj held me back. I feared to seem intru sive. I remembered that we had never spoken, and dreaded your firsl look of astonishment and displeasure And when at last I did overcome mj fears sufficiently to call upon you iu your home you can imagine my self' reproach at finding I was too late: that you were, as I believed, dead, and thus removed forever from my sympathy and love. Bitter regret over whelmed me, and I vowed then, while strewing flowers above your silenl breast, that in future nothing should ever hold me back from those in distress but their refusal to receive me, and when I heapd that appearances had been deceitful, and that when 1 saw vcu, you had been only lying in a trance I felt as if providence had heard my praper and that I should yet have the opportunity of telling you of the love I felt for you." "Ah!" sighed the signorina, while the tears welled up in her eyes, "I am un worthy ol such interest; I am unworthy of your cafe. Do not love me sc well, lou may ue uisappointeu m me." Miss Aspinwall smiled. "You have not disappointed me yet," she asserted. "As for the future, wt will be such friends that regret shall r.ot find room to come in between us, Do you not think you can love me, trust me, rest with me and be happy?" The signorina's eyes, whioh had been lowered to the ground, rose slowly till they rested upon Miss Aspinwall's face. There was trouble in them, bul there was gratitude also, and a sud den light that seemed to come from ar awakening soul. "Love you?" 6he repeated. "Ah, there is no doubt but that I can lov( you. But " she added, in another moment, with restless change of man ner, "did you not think it strangt when you found me on the platform at this nlace, alone and without apparent purpose?" To be continued.. Getting filch. One who now owns palaces, yachts automobiles, houseboats, horses, et?. a solid merchant in Worth street, says: "Forty years ago I started oul in life with a small place in a grocerj store in a country town. Ten yean later I was in New York earning $400( a year and spending it. I fell ill, ant read several books, among them Ba con's Essays. To one sentence in His Lordship's volume I attribute my latei success. It was this: 'If a man wii; keep but of even hand his ordinavj expenses ought to be but the half ol his receipts, and if he think to was rich, but to the third part.' As soor as I got well I started to get rich bj saving $COOO a year. It was a mightj hard thing to do at first, and I doubt il I could have done it but for the facl that I was well supplied with clothes l'cu see, I had grown extravagant After two years I was on a salary o) $0000 and saving $4000. Four years later I was making $12,000 and savin; $S000. Then I got in the firm. I an still saving. Lord Bacon made nie.''Xew York Press. Where the Toys Coirse From. Probably the oldest toy centre ir the world is the thousand-year-old citj of Xurernbeig. In the Middle Ages it was a veritable toy land, and ever now it retains almost absolute suprein acy in cue matter oi leaaen toys, espe daily soldiers. Many hundreds ol workmen are employed in this indus try, and something like 100,000 leiic soldiers are turned out every day it the year. The peasants of Thuringii are largely employed in toy-making and their productions are all sent tc market through Nuremberg.?Woman's Heme Companion. % : I A SERMON FOR SUNDAY ' A DISCCURSE ENTITLED "LIFE'S YIELD 1 TO THE MORAL CONQUEROR." 1 he Kcr. T. E. "Williams Urges Cs to Spend Our Few Brief Years Fighting Sin and Scryinfr.iUan Until We Pans to the Great ' Beyond?An Uplifting Discourse. ' Brooklyn, N. Y.?The Rev. T. Bhond1 da Williams, pastor of the Greenfield Con: gregational Church, Bradford, England, preached in Plymouth Church Sunday rm i? l monimc. .inure jv<is ?i auuicuw? I " The Rev. Dr. Newell Dwight Hillis intro- I duced Mr. Williams. Earnest attention ' was given to his thoughtful sermon. The ) ( subject was '"Life's Yield to the Moral Conqueror."' and the test was from passages in the Apocalypse. Mr. Williams said: Each on* of the messages to the churches of Asia closes with a promise. They contain threats and warnings and commandments, but at the close stands the promise | like a distant hill in sunshine, seen through the storm, to lure on ever the worst-beaten to the better things of God 1 and man. The messages lay down the ? moral task without compromise, but they . | close with the assurance that 9 J , I "The toppling craea of duty scaled Are close upon the shining tablelands, , To which our God Himself is moon and C sun." ' i There is here a twofold aspect of life ' j which every morally earnest man is ac, i quainted with. He knows that its condil ; tions are stem, that there is vigor in it. : but he knows also that the vigor is blended with tenderness, that all_ its struggle is t ! permeated by promise. We might indeed v ! on,* mnril 01 r-nocfnpes and hoDeful j | ness go togther. Stand loyally under the , 1 bower of duty, and you will hear the bird ! of hope sing. Unfaithfulness to the moral I ideal breeds pessimism of the worst kind; l ! fidelity, while it does not encourage cheap. i | and lightsome optimism, does inscribe in j the heart of the blackest duty the shining - | word of the'coming; time. God has so made ; i us that enfolded in the bosom of loyalty j lies the assurance of triumph for the good. ' j Now, it is this loyalty to the good, this * ! fidelity to the moral ideal, this persevering ! attitude, which I take to be indicated in 5 ! the word "overcoming" or "conquering." j Every promise is made to him who "over cometh" or who "conquers." Not, mark I ! you, to him who has overcome, or who has ? i. conquered in any full or final sense. These r | promises are not of gifts to be bestowed at the end of the course, but of experiences 1 to be realized in going on, so long as you : go on in the right way. Now, is it a fact? j for it is no use preaching theories away u from the facts of life?that the nromiscs made to those Asian churches in the name r nf Dhrist. sent to them bv John as direct j . from Christ, arc to be recrarded as promises made to us by God? For myself I cannot regard them 60. cxcept so far as * they contain truths attested by the experr ience of men. Indeed, the messages given > to the churches of Asia are not entirely from Christ as He was, not from Christ as we understand Him to-day. but from ! Christ as John understood Him. When . we read the promises of the moral life we . read not only the facts of our moral experience. but also a certain interpretation given by more than one bias, such as the personal bias or the national bias. The future we depict may be in essence guaran- J ' teed by the universal laws of the moral i life, but the depiction may bear personal j or national colors, which ir>ust fade; personal and national elements which must ' be eliminated. John was a Christian, but he was also a Jew. Like every man. he r had a temperament, both the nationality . and the personality would affect his vision of the future. Our Christ never takes ab1 solute.and full nossession of us. cur very t best understanding of Him has some mix, ture of ourselves in it, which is not in Him. r "To him that ovcrcomcth and keepeth My word will I give power over the na1 tions, and he shall rule them with a rod of iron, as the vessels of a potter shall be broken to shiw>ns, even as I received of ' My Father." Here are words attributed ' to Jesu? which none of us would like to r think of Him as speaking. We could not . find in Jesus any promise of authority , over nations to rule them with a rod of iron, as the vessels of a potter are broken : to shivers; nor do we think of Him as L claiming to have received such from His . Father. That is not our-way of thinking of .Christ to-dav. Then how did John 1 come to hear Christ sav that? Because > John had been reared in the atmosphere [ and fed upon the sentimeiits of Psalm ii. His Jewish teachers hau taught him to regard Psalm ii as Messianic. And what was ' the Messiah to do? The Lord said to Him, I "Ask of Me and I will give thee the na, tions for thine inheritance and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Thou shalt break'them with a rod i of iron; thou shalt dash them to pieces ; 'ike a potter's vessel." Some Jews sometimes believed that that was one of the things the Messiah would do. When a 1 Jew came to believe that Jesus was the i Messiah vou would think that he would at least throw off that old notion. Jesus had said. "Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden," etc. "I am meek of ' heart, lowly." "Blessed are the meek," i etc. "Other cheek." etc. The general j character and teaching of Jesus was the very opposite of the Psahn ii conception of Messiah. Yet the Jew who believed that , Jesus was the Messiah carried over with t 3iim a. good deal of the old national conception and attributed it to Jesus. That 1 is what John does here. It was not Jesus I 6peaking, but his own nationalism that ; was representing Jesus. This is not very l surprising when you remember that Chris- j ' tians even yet take the Psalm ii to refer " to Jesus. Nothing could be more unlike L Jesus of Nazareth than the description of , the Messiah in Psalm ii. It is high time to protest, as Cheyne does, against the habit ? of "finding Christ" in passages "unrelated ! to Christ and His religion." "I fear." says Canon Che.vne, "that our unmiti- i gated adoption of the Psalter as it stands j may counteract that spirit of love which is f j one-half of'Christianity." The fear is too i well founded. What did the great at. Bernard say long ago regarding the wars of the Crusades upon the Mohammedans? These are his words: "They are ministers of God to inflict His vengeance. For them to give or receive death is not a sin. but- a most glorious deed; the Son of God delights to receive the blood of His enemies. He is glorified in the death of the pagans." , It is most astounding that Jesus could have b. en conceived as the incarnation of l God's redeeming nurpose and love and yet as One who could delight in the blood of r His enemies. The Messianic interpretation ? of many psalms undoubtedly tends to nnj dermine the value of the revelation of God . in Christ. In a Christian mazazine of l some time ago one article is entitled "The - Tendernee3 of /Jesus" and the next is "The ; Imprecatory Psalms Vindicated." I al. ways maintain that there is a severity in the law of life, that divine love is not softl r.ess. nor mercy a license to indulgence; pain, suffering, retribution are here; there ? was a sevrrii.v j:i >ie?us hc^usv true to life's law. but the Spirit of Jesus ' was not the spirit of the imprecatory t psalms, and the Messiah of many psalms r is quite unlike our Christ. So far as we r are under their influence we need to ex, corite ourselves and clear our vision. L But this promise is colored not only by t John's nationalism, but possibly also by certain traits of his personal character. It was John who saw a man casting out devils in Jesus' name and forbade him, be? cause he did not follow with them?there 5 was a strong party spirit in him. John , ! was one of two who wanted the chief ' | pinccs in the kingdom. He, too. wanted to 1 ; call fire from heaven upon the Samaritans. - The portrait of John in most people's minds, as the loving disciple, rests upon the Christ's Gospel and the Epistles, but the temper sometimes displayed in the Apocalypse fits with the indications of the , synoptic gospels. j What does the man who is raithful find? i What does he get to feel sure of' He i finds the very best there is in Jife. He I tastes life at its best, "I will sire him to eat of the tree of life, which is in the para! dise of Cod." There is a very common notion that though goodness may be a safe ' track to some far-off celestian citv it js a 3-- 1.1. :t!? _r i considerate SHCTJIIVC UI i?c UI mc here and now. Naturally enough not a 1 . few decide to take what they can in the present and leave the struggle for goodness alone and chance the future. Well, the truth is that only in a worthy character, id the ascendancy over evil, in the maetery of impurity and of egoism in all its forms, on the higher levels of special cultivation, does a rnau really get the core of lite now, ret the very best there is in it. In fact the old Eden story comes true igain and j again in the lives of men. Get your p!e3S! ure. satisfy your desire in illicit ways, in defiance or in ncglect of the divine order of life, it simply means paradise lost. You turn yourself cut of the best by so doing Loyalty to goodness is the way ot blessedness. There is no happiness like that which comes from simple goodness. What does the victor i'md? lie finds the unseen reserves from which he may draw sustenance and power to his own surprise and that of the world. "To him chat evercometh I will give to eat of the hidden manna." In the winning struggle you iind the soul sustenance hidden from you before and still hidden from the word. New confidences, now assurances, new faiths arise in the soul; new visions break upon it, new voices speak to it ana in it; new communions with unseen powers enrich its inner solitudes, and the man tets ty cmd by to understand what Paul meant when he spoke of being "'strengthoned with might in the inner man." The truly earnest man who perseveres in the life of the good is constantly surprised at the reserve of power upon which he draws. lied seas which looked as if they meant certain death have been safely crossed, and the song of triumph rang up to God on the other side. Difficulties which seemed insurmountable have been successfully overcome This is why^ the man 6ays: "Hitherto hath the Jjora neipea me. iie cannoi unnrisiauu himself by himself, and so lie builds an alter to a higher power. In life's victories we discover life's forccs; in the onward march we discover the enrichment of the wav, come to one after another of the weils of salvation, hidden from all who do not march that way. And, remember always, that the larger our conquest in life, the more abundant will be life's sustenance; it is the conqueror who linds the manna. In a sense, everything is bidden from us, and all growth is a discovery. It is so in the intellectual sphere. You discover treasures as you conquer difficulties. You must conquer the alnhabet and the spelling book to discover the sentence; conquer the sentence to discover the paragraph; conquer every paragraph to know the treasure of the book. And so all the way up. Many cannot read a book that ia at all difficult; the food there is i:\ it they cannot appreciate. Why? because their conquests are too small; thev have not overcome ignorance and superficialty sufficiently, so the manna there remains hidden. The same is true in the moral and spiritual sphere. There are people who are quite incapable of understanding the highest kind of affection and the holiest kind of love because they have riot themselves overcome the vulgarity and coarseness of human nature's lo- *er levels. All noble souls have "meat to eat which the world knows not of;" they have affections which the world would always dilute with base ingredients, and aspirations which it would always tarnish with the stains of earth. Be sure of it, your discovery of life's best things will depend upon your conquest of its worst, and with every victory you shall eat hidden manna and be. strengthened for victories yet to be achieved. The successful struggle constantly discovers supports hidden from him before, and still hidden from liven which do not know th 2 loftier reaches and the more earnest endeavors. What doei life yield to the victor? Here is one of thd finest of the promises: "I will give him th? morning star." What is this gift of the morning star? It is the feeling that life i? sweet and pure, fair and fresh with the touch of morning. It is the feeling thai life is full of nromise. that dav is comina on; that the best is yet to be. It is the power to be oneself a sweetening, freshening influence in the world, a living: prophecy of its betterment. Now, friends, there is nothing like moral purity to keep the touch oi morning on life; compromise your morality and it is marvelous how soorl everything is stale. There is an indescribable sweetness in the air of early morning when the world is as God makes it; when it is indeed in the process of His remaking before we light our fires and emit our smoke and beat up the dust of our noisy, turbulent life. Something like that sweet freshness of morning belongs to the soul that is pure and comes to it always in its hour of victory over sin. As long as your affections are clean they are fresh; you never tire of pure feelings or holy loves. Once they mix with earthliness then they grow common?you are in the world aa man makes it; the world which even darkens the sky with its own pollution. No sight is more sad anywhere than that of a youth setting out in life without moral discriminations to drain the cups of the world's nleasures. onlv to find that one after another nauseates, everything palls, the world is flat and stale, and the very capacity for pleasure dies out of him. For such a man there is only one way to make the world young atrain.-i. e., through the moral struggle. "The fir3t deep contrition for sin, the first real daily walk or midnight watch with the living God, the first ODenine perspective of a life in death? these things are to many like the emergence from a dark, chill cave to the flood of warm, beautifying light." 0, man. to wliom life is spoiled by moral surrenders, and all beauty stained by sin, and to whom all sensation is blunted by indelicacv, if you turn to face the moral ideal and bend your energy in moral endeavor, live to fight sin in the strength of God, you will yet find that the dullness, the dead weight, the insipidity, the staleness, will go off, and you will find One standing by you In the fight, saying. "I will give thee tha morning star." "If iniquity be in thine hand nut it far away and let not wicked* ness dwell in thy tabernacles. For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot, Thine a,"e shall arise above the noonday, thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as tha morning" (Job xi:17). clean, fresh and full of promise once again. And the world shall come up before you in new aspects: hope shall take the place of despair and faith drive out fear, even "the wildernesj and the solitary place shall be glad and th< desert shall rejoice and blossom as th? rose." The morning star shall arise on the soul and on the world. God's dawn shall announce God's day and 'thou shall be steadfast and 6halt not fear." Again, what does the moral victor find! Tt is promised that Christ wiiJ write upoi him God's name and the name of God'j city, and his own new name. In our language this means that life yields the victoi the consciousness that he really belongj to God: that he belongs to the new so ciety: th".t he belongs to Christ. In othel words, the spiritual universe owns him, and he knows himse!f as a vital part of it, even as a pillar in the temple of God, an upholder the sacred things of life: one of those who have a real permanent life in the sanctuary, among the sanctities of God?yea. who share iha spiritual sever eirMy of life with God. with Christ and with all the ?ood: "He shall sit with Me on My throne," etc. Lay hold on the thrash t of God as yout Helper, and believe that if you work with Him a'l will he well. I invite you to no superficial ontimvs that has never sound* cd the depths of life's woe. nor seen into the hearts of its tragedy. There is no power arid no healing in that. I heard it once (riven out from a Christian platform. It denounced- gloominets of every kind: it slashed the pessimists in every direction; it declared that all things were going on exceedingly well: even thi 6lums were not so l>nd as some made out. and the war in South Africa?well, it would come to an end some time. Fo much of this was dealt out that I felt that such optimism was the shallowest of h>s. and that to ventilate it in the name of Christianity was to forget the tragedy of Getheeniane and_ to blot out the memory of the cross. Xo. no; if you are to be a sprious man, in earnest for the highest ends of life, for yourself and for society. von have a battle to fight: a bard, stern battle: a hundred things are wrong with the world, which vou must help to jiut richt. Look the evil in the face and do not call it light. But when you have done that. I ask you to realize a larger fact, viz.. that the Alpha and Omega of all this life is the love of the good God. Because that is the beginning, that is also the end, and let it, therefore, be our "Hone a sun will pierce m The thickest cloud earth ever stretched, mat aner jasi snail come ine nrsi, Tho' a wide compass round be fetched." With that thought of God let us spend our few brief years fighting sin and serving man, till we pass "'to where beyond these voices there is peace." Now unto the God of all grace, who hath called us unte His eternal glor/ by Christ Jesus, be glory and dominion forever and ever. J THE SUNDAY SCHOOL I < V - , ' INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR NOVEMBER 8. Subject: David's Grief Over Absalom, 5 Sam. xviil., 24-33? Golden Text, Prov | xvli., 26?Memory Verses, 31-33?Commentary on the Day's Les6on. I. The battle array (vs. 1-8). 1. Th< j time was about three months after Absa i lom assumed the throne. 2. The place was the forest of Ephraim in Mount Gilead not far from Mananaim, %vhere David was This region is still covered with thick oaks and tangled bushes, and thorny creepers growing over rugged rocks and ruinoui ! precipices. 3. The army of Absalom musl i nave been very much larger than David's I for 20,000 men were slain, besides the man} | that escaped. But they had no such disci pline and organization as David's troops and no "Old Guard" like David'? band o 600 heroes. 4. The army of David was di vided into three divisions under three abl< generals. Gideon had divided his handfu into three, that he might make a simulta neous impression on three different parti of the Midianite host, and thus contribut< . the better to the defeat of the whole. S< David divided his army into three, that meeting Absalom's at three different point! he. might prevent a concentration of th< i en'^my that would have swallowed up hii j II. The defeat and death of Absaloir I (vs. 9-17).' Absalom met the servants o I David in battle and was defeated. In hi; I flight Absalom rode upon a mule. For hm I to ride upon a mule?perhaps David's owi ?was a mark of royalty (1 Kings 1: 33 38). His head caught in the forked boughi of a tree, and he hung there, stunned anc helpless. Perhatps his long, thick hair go) entangled, but there is nothing to suppori the common idea that Absalom "*va9 s'us pended merely by his hair. Josenhus sayi that his hair was "entangled." Then Joal took three dart3 and thrust them througl the heart of Absalom. He .alone felt strong enough to disobey the king. He did th< act for David's own sake. Doubtless hi thoroughly believed that Absalom's deatl was the only effectual way of ending thi most guilty and pernicious insurrection and so preserving the country from ruin Absalom living, whether banished or im prisoned, would be a constant and fearfu danger. Absalom dead, great though th king's distress /for the time might be would be the very salvation of the counti/ Joab held back the people from furthje slaughter. Absalom's body was cast in/o pit and a great heap of stones thrfow nnnn if / III. Tidings from the battle (vs.yfo-32 Swift runners brought the news frtbm th battlefield to the king. 24. "ybe tw gates." The heavy fortifications hjTad prol I ably an outer and an inner gate ej/[the bas j of a battlemented tower, in whfich was "chamber" (v. 33). On the flat/-oof of th tower, but shaded from publiyview, Davi waited to hear tidings of thaf battle. Th outer gate was level with they city wall, an the gateway would leave skme space b tween that and the inner. Compare E going outv and sitting by the ?vaysid watching for the coming of some r*ijnn( from the tield of war (1 Sam. 4: | "Watchman." Every gate and outpost o j the tower would be guarded by vigilan ' watchmen at such u time. "Roof." Th ! flat roof of the gateway on the side of th outer wall. The picture of the anxiou i watcher at the gate of Mahanaim gives u I a faint insight into the heart of the Fathe l above. The world is full of Absaloms wb ! have risen ud against their heavenly Fathei 25-28. "If he be alone." David judge* that if the man was running alone he wa bringing news from the battle. If th armv had been routed many fugitive j would have been coming together. Unt ; the porter." One stood at the top of th | tower, and the other was below to attem , to opening and closing the gate. "A goo< ' man." David had had proof of his fidelit; durincr the nroirreps of the war. and wa sure that such as he would not be chosei for the thankless work of bearing ba< j news. "All is well." This in the Hebrev is one word. "Peace." It was the usua word of greeting. "Fell down." An acto homage to the king. "Delivered up." Lit , erallv, "shut up." restrained and confine* within bounds, instead of leaving them a | large. 29. "Is?Absalom safe." There is a ten derness in the words which reveals th ' yearning of the fatherly heart. He seem more anxious about the welfare of th "young man," than about the issue of th battle. David was thinking of the ominou words, The ?word shall never depart fron thy house. The sword had devoured on son; was it now to claim another? An< where would it stop? Ahimaaz saw th kind's distress and gave an evosive answer Ih the young man safe? This is a ouestioi every parent and every friend of youn< men should ask. Is the voudz man saf from intemperance, feom bad companions from bad books, from dishonest conduct ! from bad habits? Is he safe in Jesu Christ? Is he safe in a pood home an< amont good influences? Is he safe for thi world? Is he safe for eternity? Ask your self, also, what you are doing to make hin and keep him safe? 30-32. "Stand here." He has given, hi messace, and is thus dismissed to rest afte the toilsome running. He is, however, al lowed to place himself near, that he ma; hear what further tidings the Cushit brings. "Cushi." An Ethiopian slave ii the service of Joab. "Hath avenged.' Hath pronounced a favorable verdict in hi Milan ilolirroroil liim nuf- />f flip lirjnrl O his onemies. "Enemies of my Lord." Th Lord hath done thee justice on thy ene , mies. He answered the question aboti Absalom indirectly, yet so as not onl; : clearly to make known his death, but alsi to express condemnation upon his hosti! attempt against his father and Icing, i IV. David mourns for Absalom (v. 33) 33. "'Much moved."' Seised with violen ' trembling and ?rief. "The chamber." Ai ' aoartment in the upper Dart of the towe ; of one of the gates; the nearest plac 1 where he could be alone. "Wept. LoudJ; lamented. "0 my son Absalom!" There i ' not in the whole of the Old Testament passage of deeper pathos than this. Th ! simple beauty of the narrative is exquisite i and we are irresistibly reminded of Hir i who, while He beheld the rebellions city o ! Jerusalem and thought of the destructioi j it was brineing uoon itself, wept over i i (Luke 19: 41). "Died for thee." So Mose | (Ex. 3*2: 32) and so St. Paul (Rom. 9: 3 > would have sacrificed themselves, had i been possible to save others. His wish fc I die in Absalom's stead was no men extra* agance of grief. David knew hlu own peat; j was made with God; he could die at an; j time. If Absalom were spared in life h | might yet repent. The cause/? of David' | grief were, 1. David's love for Absalom i 2. The bitterness th%t Absalom had com I to such a sad end. 3. The consciousDes that his own sin was partly the cause. Agriculture In Alaska. ! C. I. Dietrich, United States Senato from Nebraska, and a member of the Sen ate Committee on Public Lands, has re turned from a four months' visit to Alsski to familiarize himself with condition there. He does not attach much impor tance to the glowing reports of Alaska' r>os8:bi'.ities. He say3 th manv thousands of dollars expended at th Government agricultural experiment sta tion at Sitka have not established an^ facts that have not been known for fill; years. Eating rrcstrvative* Acaln. The table eljiss of Dr. Wi'ey, Chief c the Bureau ofNiemistrv of the Agrieulli ral Dc-partmeUk, Washington, compose of twelve young men .selected for the put pose of testing the effect of sa'ievhc aci and other preservatives on food, hive b< fun the second experiment of the serief 'he experiment will continue for eigh months, in which time the men will b boarded at the expense of the (jovernmenl .Demand 850,OCO From Boycotter*. Suit for $50,000 damages has been filet in the Federal Court. Louisville. Kv. against the Bricklayers' Union by the Hy drauiic Brick Companv, which is said t< hf.Ve been boycotted last August by tin union. Chnrch For A]!. ^In memorv of his son. Colonel A. A rope nas xouraec a cuurcn witnout an; sectarianism. in Oobasset. Mass. Chris Iti&iu. .Jtv.s or pagans win ue welcome n worship in the edifice. I / m , THE RELIGIOUS LIFE READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR :;I WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. Poem: Lament of the Prodijjal Son?Tim Feasting Tliat Makes Lean souls?ISack of Liquor Xnrks Danger, Slavery and" Sin?Drop the Accursed Cap. i Docs that lamp still burn in my Father'? 1 llOUfC, J Which He kindled the night I went ? away? ' . I turned once beneath the cedar boughs, .And marked it gleam with a golden ray;- ,i , Did He think to light me Home some jj Jay? . ' , Hungry here with crunching swine, r Hungry harvest have I to reap: '-jjjj In a dream I count My Father's kine, ^ I hear the tinkling bells of His sheep, f I watch Hid Iambs that browse and leap. . i There is plenty of bread at home, 1 His servants have bread enough and to spare? } While I perish hungry and bare. ! ?Christian G. Rossetti. , Sobriety a Virtue. ' One of the greatest difficulties the cause j ' of temperance has to contend with to-day | is the multitude of pedple who are allied against, it. Notice rigjit here that it was = i so in the days of MosSbs. "The whole con- .; j gregation murmured.' against Moses and Aaron''?two fanatics against a majority. . .j J Strong arguments this majority used, too; just as they do to-day. They begau ' by blaming all.'their personal discomforts ; on the enforced temperance that Moses, . I acting for Gqd, had established for them. . They harked' back continually to that old _ | Egypt of tueirs, ignoring its troubles out " , of which t/hey were come, forgetting Ca * naan, whifcb had never seemed to weigh < ?? : materially with them. The Yoncing of souls not given up to ' :> 5 God fpr that which they desire is unI quendhable except by God. The poor chii* aren/ of Israel wiahed to be continually _ feasting, for that was their idea of happiness. Of all that had been told them con' Corning Canaan they seem but to have ; * grasped a dim idea of constant pleasure, j fand that it was to begin at once. No < J\ more have we to-day true perceptions and , $ t \ estimates of the heavenly Canaan. Prin- J !> ciples we may have when we start out J from our lands of Egypt, but how many of ^ ir us abide by them when it comes to a mata ter of personal indulgence? Some, indeed. n do, and thank God for the Moses and . Aaron in our midst who fret not for lux-' ' ury. but are willing to abide by the law : ; ie God has set. feeling that God knows best .: even about so email a matter as diet. 3" There are several points of striking like- . ;J !C ness between the murmuring children of ^ ,a Israel and the people who ought to be 9 earnest temperance workers ana are not. d They ignore the evils of Egypt, the injiiei tice, the oDpression, the cruel taskmasters, d j for the sake of the fleshpOts, which, after <k | all, were but meagre for the starving II | creatures bowed beneath many burdens. e> Our land is in slavery to rum, a curse -r j that is crushing cut the manhood of its Xj people. Every year the chains grow * rwtronger, and yet for the sakc| of a little c j personal indulgence, a little so-called freee | dom,>?i^ny remain in bondage. And sel* v ' e fish lawrmakers, cruel as Egyptian task- . 9 masters, negulate and make respectable t 8 the gale of r?ta deadly enemy of our fair 'y,M r land. 0 One sells his Ctnnaan for a daily morsel ' of meat, and awaV down through the * | apes the other barters it for the deadly I wine cup. e And so God gave that people what they - ] 3 ! asked, rained it down upon as free? ly as He had given nlain mannaT^fid they j- ! took it greedily and never saw whafltthev j I were doing nor how they had abused nhcjrJE? 3 j loving Father's graciou3ness. Because th^%^B y j saw not His love and yielded not tBems j selves to His plans for them, their hungry, <.-& 2 ; souls, unfed by the true nourishment God ^ j would have given, grew lean and starved. fl * I The poor Route who will not believe in 1 the dangers of alcoholic liquors, and who ' f j will not give them uo, grow lean in like fl i manner. They know that back of liquor 1 , lurks danger, slavery,-sin; still each thinks S t he can escape them and cries out for that H which will wtifify the craving of his heart. H i- And he gets it if he goes after it. God * ^ e will not keep a man from sin if he is de s termined to haye it. The liquor clouds hi* y, * e I brain and keeps him from a clear vision ^ e | of his God so that his soul is starved.- It s i may not be that all who touch, taste or i ! handle the accursed cup drop immediately ' e j into drunkards' graves, but just as surely. 1 j if more slowly, do they die ffom wilful , e starvation because they would rather sat'. I isfy the immediate cravings of appetite i ; than go to live with God forever in His J ? fair, new land.?Grace Livingston Hill, in e ; the New York Mail and Express. , J Happiness in Work. * ] Some people dream of happiness as 1 . something they will come to by and by, 3 ' at the end of a course of toil and struggle. : ' . +U? i 4. n I jjut tuc u ur wav cu uuu uappmcM 19 <w 1 J we go on in our work. Every day has its ! own cup of sweetness. In every duty in*. s : a pot of hidden manna. In every sorrow f , is a blessing pf comfort. In every burden '* i is rolled un a gift of God. In all life v Christ is with us, if we are true to Him. c i If we have learned this secret, even the J things that seem unpleasant and disagree| able yield fay in the doing. A traveler in J South Africa saw some boys playing mar ; bles, using pebbles. One of these rolled to e the traveler's feet, and, picking it up, it ' seemed to him only a rough stone, with.jnt fc 1 beauty or worrh. But as he turned ic over v a gleam of light flashed from one spot of 0 . it. It was ?. diamond. Duties seem dull c , and dreary to us. unattractive, hard, but . j thev ir.fcld secrets of happiness which we * find when we accept them with love snd * s Jo them cheerfully.?The Rev. J. li. Mil* ? 1 ler. r 0 Gcmtt of Thontht. It is God'fc giory to help at a pinch. . * If you want to remember truth medi; tate>. reneat. confer. Act it aa soon a3 vou , I hear it. V'',? " Under sin we are free to do anything bnt " j pood; under Christ we are free to do anyJ* I thing but evil. _ '*m I Come, said Latimer, to the public meet- jb i ings. though thou comest to sleep; it may 9 > be God may take tUee napping. Absence > fl ! is without nope. * I * God made nim after His image, and men (to requite Him) will needs make God af* ter their image; cast him anew in their ? base mold, and ;nake ^kjlol of Him. , ? Xenophanes was wont tc/saythat if beasts ' were able to paint they would portray a god like to themselves.?The Eev. S. Hart' well Prati.. in New Yorl: Observer. ? la a Slow Death. Worry is hIow death and neither hospital nor asylum cau brine relief.' The physician cannot cure^it. All the ozone of tbe r mountains and the soft salt breezes of the - sea are powerless in its presence. Flee - worry : it is the bane of all peace.?United , 1 Presbyterian. o Start WltU God. e The early hour is the hour for prayer e and the Bible. Start the day with God! We know not what the day may bring?in *' cither trial or temptation. The most danv cerous temptations are the unforseen an J ... -.1.1 mi * t r\ t-\ Tv unexpected.?ineoaore ju. \-uyier, u. u. Inspiration of All Faithfal. >1 Religion is the very respiration of all 'i. i- faithful and loving toil, and to detach it ^ d for minutes specially reserved is like pr?> " posing to take your walk in the morning d and do your breathing in the arxmoon.? > James Martineau. ,, ? t e Nothing Lost From Tomatoe*. , t. Now that the tomato canning season ift nearing a close an industry allied to it in ^tartiug up. the canning of refuse from the tomatoes. There are three factories bej side the one at E'mer. N. J., that make ' 'Italian Paste." or cheese, as it is calkd. ] The pulp and skins of tomatoes that have j been canned are made into the paste. The mixing is done in a large trough similar to i mortar bed. stirred with hoes and shov s'ed into buckets and carried into the car- V nine deonrtment. The cheese is princi- J pally shinped to Europe, but i? gaining j'avor in New York, where a delicate soup 38 v made from it. 5 Some men can't even climb a ladder ex1 cept in a round-about way. ?