The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, March 09, 1904, Image 2
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M AJJATI
By Aflaa Katharine Green, J
-CO^YHICMT, 1B?0, BY *e
CHATTER XXXII.
Continued.
"Yon know, Byrd, that I have ot late
taken yon to my heart. You are no
longer a i?jere detective to me, nor are
you simply a fellow whom I once
knew and heartily liked; you are my
^friend, and the only man I can open
my heart to about a matter that has
absorbed my every hope. . When,
therefore, you utter insinuations instead
of encouragement, I feel startled,
specially as I have not been without
doubts myself?not of her, but of the
situation in which I am likely to be
placed. If she loves me?and I 6ball
soon find that out?I shall still not be
altogether happy, for i hate the idea of
marrying a womaa who owes her immense
fortune to the appreciation and
choice of another man. I shall be alxvflv*
ienlouK of him: I shall always I
fee) as if the luxury I enjoyed was attributable
to him, and so experience
humiliation at the thought that my
wife owes her splendor to means reeulting
from another man's love. For
I caa never forget that he loved her.
and that it was his love that actuated
his decision. Had it not done so he
would have paid one more visit to the
schoolteacher, who, if 6he is lame, possesses
every moral attribute* necessary
to entitle her to the legacy of Mr. Delaney
"
"Yes," was Mr.. Byrd's unexpected
assent, "yoa would always have that,
drawback to your- happiness. Her
prosperity is certainly owing to your
rival's love." ,
Tq utter an unpleasant truth your.
*elf is bad enough, but to hear it re
peated by another's lips is intoieraoie.
'Bounding to his feet Mr. Degrnw paced
up and down tJbe room in visible excitement.
"AL! if I conld have bnt made ber
mine before ever 6he met this De
graw!'" he exclaimed.
The other "watched him with increasing
earnestness. He had sown seeds of
iflistrust in the artist's ardent breast,
which would yet bear fruit. What
fruit? He and we will>soonvbe given a
chance to 6ee. '
CHAPTER XXXIII.
UNEXPECTED CONDITIONS.
Next morning Hamilton Degraw read
these words in the social column of
one of New York's leading dailies:
"Miss Rogers has returned from
Newport (there is but one Miss Rogers
In New York these days), and is now
to be seen by her friends at her own
house at Fifth avenue."
It was a happy moment for him, for
the three months allotted to their separation
had pa88ed, and by this return
to the city she at learst showed that
she did not 6eek to avoid a meeting.
In his joy he tore the veil from her
picture, and survejed her loveliness
with burning eyes, then realizing that
this was a poor preparation for the
hours of waiting which lay before him
he covered it up again and set himself
to work, only to drop palette and brush
in his impatience and take up his bat
and go out.
He walked in the direction of her
house. It was no new walk for him.
Though she had been absent from its
walls all summer he had passed it by
many times during these months of
waiting, and though it was not a pretentious
dwelling, and was only her6
while she leased it, he had conceived
an affection for its every 6tone, and
rould have given you each detail of
its exterior as well as if it had been a
Iiouse of bis own.
Now its hitherto empty body had a
noul, and he found himself intirci,
dated as be approached it, and really
went no further than the corner. But
a sight of the pavement her feet had
?o lately crossed was a comfort to him,
' and he went back to his studio in a
Jiopeful mood to await with more or
less patience a suitable hour in which
to call upon her.
He chose the afternoon, first, because
he had not the endurance to wait
till evening, and secondly because he
felt that evening would bring other
lovers to her side, whose presence
would be unbearanble to him in his
presemt uncertain position. At five
o'clock be stood at her door, and did
not know whether to resign his pretensions
or not when he found that
before his ring at the Uell had been
answered two carriages beside bis
own had been driven up in front, and
that two ladies and one gentleman
were awaiting with bim the somewhat
tardy response to his eager summons.
The opening of the door decided the
question. He handed in his card to the
neat maid who confronted him, and
eaw or thought he saw on her bright
and clever face a certain look that assured
him that his viBit was particularly
welcome, though she merely
waved him toward the same parlor
Into which the ladies had already
eieppeu.
The other gentleman merely left a
note and a bouquet, both of which
Mr. Degraw -would like to have annihilated.
The room into 'which be passed was
a surprise to him. Somehow he hnd
expected to find this new-made heiress
shrined in great splendor. Though the
outside of tbe bouse was plain, almost
to bareness, he had looked for a gorgeous
interior suitable to her wealth
nnd the glowing character of her
beauty. But instead of this the walls
were almost bare and the furniture
was plain nnd inexpensive. There
were not even any ornaments to be
seen, and the carpet, though new, wus
one of the simplest Brussels.
hoi* nctoc! flion VinmKlo^ Hr
did she consider that a sudden leap'
Into show and splendor was undigni-.
tied in tne unsuccessful prima donna?'
He awaited her appearance to determine,
and was prepared to behold a
richly adorned woman enter this bald
apartment, and b.v her gay silks and
brilliant jewels illumine the dreary
ftolnaese of a room which had hot i
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LIONS. Ju
. Author of "Tbe Forukn |
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( CUT BONNK'S ??MS. J
even the attractiveness of his cwb studio.
But when, iu a moment later, a light
figure glided through the doorway, he
saw that she relied upon her beauty
and not upon her apparel for the im
pression she was destined to make.
Though hi6 senses swam at the sight
of her countenance that was brighter,
more winsome and more exquisitely
beautiful than ever, he could not but
note that no jewels fashed iu her ears
and that her dress was of plain cloth,
without color and without adornment.
She bad worn more picturesque clothing
when she was simply Signorina
Valdi.
Yet in a few minutes he forgot all
this. She had but to turn toward him
with a blushing ? greeting, for the
room; himself and her own delicate
and graceful figure to be inundated
with radiance. She loved him still;!
that was visible in her look, her atti* |
inAn oiiil >ini. /innuflrcofinn thnnnh cho
turned from bim almost immediately
and gave herself up to the ertertainment
of the two ladies who had entered
at the same time as himself. She
loved him and she was not yet spoiled
by her new wealth. This was enough
to fill his consciousness for the present,
and lend to his aspect that subtle
charm which was the secret of his
jjower over the hearts of women.
"While the ladies were being bowed
out he stood in-a' whirl of excited feeling
that was not unshared, ^pethaps,
by her, and when,-'t he front door being
closed, she turned back and began
crossing the floor to his side, it was
with difficulty be checked his wild impulse
to stretch forth his arms and
take her at once and without question
to his heart.
But be had said to himself that he
would not do this, whatever bis tempttation
might be, and he bravely kept
his word, paling a little, however, as
she reached out her hand with an air
that expressed her recognition of the
fact that she had not as yet given him
her full greeting.
She, on the contrary, was ruddy as a
.rose, and seemed to expect-a display of
warmth which was at yet absent from
his manner. < For beyond taking ber
band and pressing It he said nothing,
though her eyes looked up wistfully
and her form visibly trembled.
"You do not say you are glad," said
she.
He drew a deep breath and gently
dropped her band.
"I do not say I am glad," he repeated,
"because I "am busy schooling myself
into a calmness I cannot feel. I am so
glad I cannot trust myself to speak.
To see yon again, after these interminable
months is heaven to me. But it
is a heaven I'^must not enjoy-too deeply
till .
"Till what-?" Her sigh was eloquent}
she seemed'to hang upon his words.
"Till I know how deeply you love
me; how much you are willing to sacrifice
for my sake, and what there is
in the future for me to look forward
to."
"Ah," she murmured, "conditions!
Do you love me so little as that?"
"I Jove you," he declared, "almost to
the point of folly. In these long
months I have thought of nothing else,
dreamed of nothing else, worked for
nothing else but you. I am dazzled, I
am mad with joy only to see you again.
If I giveaway te my impulses I would
fall at your feet and kiss the hem of
vour dreBS. But I am held back by
one thought, restrained by \one barrier.
Yon are living'npon and enjoying
the millions given you by my rival."
"Bat?"
"I know what you would say, dearest.
He is not my rival now and never
can be while you retain this money.
But he did love you and probably always
will love you, and it "was through
this love he came to consider you as
the heiress of Mr. Delancy's money,
and it is because of this very love you
are now -what you are, a conspicuous
figure among New York's young and
wealthy women."
"But I do not lo,ve hrm,' and "
"You do love me! Is that what you
would say?"
She smiled pitifully. She seemed
much shaken-by his words and deeply
abashed.
"Do you love me enough to consider
my pride?" he went on. "It would
have to be a great, a courageous and a
boundless iove. For I ask nothing
less than that you should sacrifice this
wealth, that you should leave at the
altar rail these millions that have
brought you fame and adulation, and
accept only a painter's homage and
such luxuries as his pencil can furnish
you, find in that homage and these luxuries
such compensation as will make
you forget your brief reign of a summer
as America's leading beauty and
heiress."
Her eyes, burning and dilated, stared
into his.
"You ask that?" she cried.
"Yes, and since I know that I ask
much I pray you not to answer me today
by a look or a word. I would
have you think long and deeply upon
what I say. I would have you weigh
the situation calmly, and then with
grave decision render me the answer
which your heart prompts. Not impulsively,
net under the glamour of a passionate
moment, but with the spell of
prave.* upon you. and with a^blear foreknowledge
of all that such a sacrifice
means. Mr. Degraw has already asked
from you a similar recognition of feeling,
but he had little reasou for hope,
and you did not honor him by so much
as a' momentary hesitation. But this
fhnico mwins something to voil. I
know taat or I would not humiliate
myself by following in his footsteps.
Love and fondness for power-will have
a battle ir. your breast, and no one, not(
even yourself, can tell to-day how
that conflict will end. For night will
hring strange loggings, and meditation
will .waken ambitions, and I
ibail not be witb you to breathe love
' ' \ ' '' \ A
or afisure*you tbat there are-depths in
true passion'bejtofid the sounding^ en
ordinary plummet."
She covered her face with ber hands.
"Oh, to what test6 am J put!-' was
namesake of mine has "wreathed with
golden blossoms she "will not cast aside
for my soke. Do you not see 1hat I am
right? Do you not see that we could
never be happy with the ghost of another
love forever gliding between ns
at the indulging of any new fancy or
the purchase of any new gewgaw? I
may not succeed in making you see it
as I do, but this i6 the question as it
appears to me. Either love is worth
this sacrifice or it is not. If it is not,
you will frankly tell me so,-and I will
bear my disappointment.'-and make a
mistress of fame as I did before I saw
and loved you."
Her hands' had fallen from her face
now, but she was not looking at him.
She had, on the contrary, turned slightly
away, and stood with only her
cheek and the delicate outline of her
| brow visible to his searching gaze. It
was a bitter moment for Him. idau ne
been right in subjecting feer leve to
such a test?
"Miss Rogers," said he. "before I left
home I received an invitation from
Miss Aspinwail to a day reception to
be given at her house here in the city.
Are you going to that reception?"
Her gesture seemed to say she was.
"It is set for a week from now, is it
not?"
"Well. I will give you tbis week in
which to weigh ^the'question and to
consult Hilary. If then you feel that
your happiness, not mine?you must
not consider my happiness in this question?will
be best secured by a life
spent at my side, with its love and Its
hazards and its possible lack of splendor,
then wear to this reception this
same meek dress of brown, and be my
blooming rose forever. But if, on the
contrary, you have tasted of the vintage
nf nrtnlntfon and feel that it is
henceforth a necessary- beverage for
you, and that you move In your proper
atmosphere when you bear about with
you the honors and distinctions of
wealth, then wrap this lovely form in
| velVet, and put in these dear ears the
diamonds that belong there, and let
me see how worthy you are to wear
such splendors nnd hew little I had
the right to ask you to forego them.
You will be saved all embarrassment
by this, of course. One glimpse will
tell me what sort of a future I may
expect, and while I do not promise to
leave the room any too soon if I see
again before me the maiden of to-day,
I certainly 6hall not remain long
enough in your presence to utter a reproach
if I encounter velvet instead
of cloth, and jewels instead of blushes."
He was going, but she held out a
hand, and though she did not raise her
eyes or turn her head he paused wnne
she said:
"There is one thing you hare not explained.
What is to be done with this
money if I decide to give it up?"
"It must be returned to Mr. Degraw,
who will give it to a certain little
schoolteacher, who, we muBt hope, will
have no jealous lover who will refuse
to let her take it."
"Another Jenny Rogers?"
"Yes, and a noble one."
"That is all. I will not detain you
any longer, Mr. Degraw."
He looked, he moved away; be eame
back with an almost breaking heart.
After all, he might never see her
again as she was now, rosy and trembling
and innocently grieved. Had he
been less exacting, basdt*he not puzzled
himself with jealousies, "'had he been
content to ignore everything but her
winning womanhood, he might now be
clasping her to his heart in ecstacy, instead
of standing there with a barrier
of ice between them and the prospect
of what? Lifelong separation and a
desolate Dearie; ior ?i xuai mumem ue
did not believe that she would ever
give up all that he asked for bis love.
"I cannot leave you," said he. "with,
out one proof of ray devotion." And
flinging himself at her feet he clasped
her knees and kissed with heartfelt
fervo- the tip of her little 6lipper. "I
love you!" he cried; "I love you!" and
was gone, just as she 'sank half fainting
upon a chair.
To be continued.
Eventfal History of an Island.
Bass rock, which the commissioners
of the British northern lighthouses are
to occupy, has long been given over to
sea birds that swarm there in the
breeding season. It first appears on
record as the hermitage of St. Balthere,
who died on It in A. D. 750. It was
bought by Charles I. from the Lauder
family, and was used for years as a
parsonage for covenanters; the cell ,n
which the Covenanter Blackadder died
i? still pointed out. In 1C71 a fortress
was erected by the Government, but
on June 16, 1691, four Jacobites shut
tbe fort gates against the garrison of
fifty soldiers, who were outside engaged
in landing coal. These four
were re-enforced by a dozen men, were
victualed by the French Government,
and supported by two warboats and
held out against all odds until April,
1694. The place was then dismantled
and passed into private hands, being of
no value except for tbe eggs and leathers
of the sea birds.
A Lncky Painter.
Sig. Fausto Louaro. a Venetian
painter, who was starving at home,
went to Constautiuople in search of j
work. He was caught in the streets
of the Turkish capital taking sketches
of the Oriental wayfarers, a crime
contemplated in the Koran which pro-1
liibits the reproduction on canvas of
the features of the faithful.
After several days spent in prison
lie was summoned to explain ijis cuu- ;
duct to the Sultan, who was so pleased
with his drawings that he appointed
him then and there court painter, gave
hiin money and a palace to live in.
. The lucky Venetian is now busy cov.,
eriug the walls of Yildiz Kiosk with
his pictures.?I?oudon Express.
her cry. "ion do Dot love me or you
>svould not annihilate me by placing
before me surh a fearful alternative."
"I do love you," he answered solemnly.
"and I want you to love me, tbnt is,
if you marry me. 1 do not wish to feel
< Vinf tlior*** To o t? ?i er in 1 hft w'orl f?
IUV4V IO UUJ JU IUV ? v*i%?
dearer to you than myself; tbat any
riches and distinction tbat you may
owe to another man's- Jove can vie
with the single affection1 which I proffer
you. Any lees - devotion on your
part'will not satisfy me. I must have
all or none. I must marry the woman
I saw wake from the sleep of death,
and not the woman whom a hajjpy
%
A SERMON. FOE SUNDAY
ABCMUiiruLUi&buunat dt intncv.
C. D. CASE. PH. D.
Subject: "The Limit of Endeavor"?How
Much l>are Toti Attempt For God? ?
He Given Grace Both For Living and
Dying?Activities For True Christians.
Bkooeltn, N. Y.?The Rev. C. D. Case.
Ph. D., formerly of the First Baptixt
Church, Montclair, N. J., preached on Sunday
his first sermonas pastor of the Haneon
Place Baptist Cbtarcn. Hie subject was
"The Limit of Endeavor." I)r. Case said:
In -the fourth century of the Christian
era the Goths, numbering nearly one million
people, men, women and children, came
down to the Danube, at tbat time swollen
by many rains, to escape to the other side.
A large fleet of boats and canoes had been
provided, and for several days and nights
work went on incessantly. Yet notwithstanding
the most earnest care scores were
swept away in the flood.
Centuries before this remarkable occurrence
another vast horde of men, women
and children came down to another swollen
etream. By count there were over 600,000
warriors over twenty years of age, and the
entire host numbered about 2,000,000. The
valley into which they descended was of
peculiar formation. The outer valley waB
six miles and over in width, but there was
an inner valley or ravine a half mile and
over in width, and still within this was the
river itself varying from twenty to eixtv
yards in width. But this river,-too, had
been swollen by many rains and the melting
snows farthertap its course, and now
had overrun its usQal banks and vras rushing
along with rapidity.
{strangely enough no boats had been prepared
for the crossing of this host, and yet,
as events proved, not one of the host was
lost in the crossing. Evidently there was
some vast distinction to be made between
these two fjreat hosts of antiquity. What
was that distinction? May it not be this,
he words that Isaiah uses in the forty
. third chapter and second verse, which may
be considered the text of this Bermon:
"When thon passeth through the waters
I will be with thee, and through the rivers,
they shall not overflow thee."
On the part of the Israelites in their
crossing of the Jordan some special preparation
was needed, but not in the procuring
of boats. The commander of the army had
sent messengers throughout the host, and
commanded all to sanctify themselves,
which rtfeant the washing of garments and
the abstaining from all that might distract
the mind. Similarly Mioses haa once commanded
the people to.'sanctify themselves
to-dly and to-morrow: and to wash their
Sarments and be ready against the third
ay; for the third day Jehovah Himself
would come down in the Bight of all the
people on Mount Sinai.
It was a critical moment for the hosts of
Israel. To fail now meant t? fail forever.
To succeed now meant a premise for the
future. "Hereby ye shall know," said
Joshua, "that the living God is among you
and that He will without fail drive out
from before you" the inhabitants of the
land. What a nation or a man achieves
through God-given strength to-day is an
assurrance for victory for to-morrow. Success
is a handmaid of assurance. "Ye have
not passed this way before," said Joshua;
a new leaf in national history had been
| turned; a new territory invaded.
A new endeavor with the Israelitish
J army as with us to-day needed'--special
' guidance. -The sacred ark was te-'precede
the people,;tut far enough in advance to
be seen by all that "ye may kudW," said
the leader, "the way by whicn ye Aust go."
Reverence is needed for divine things, but
divine gaidance more. The pillar of fire
and the cloud is now superseded by the
I ark, and it in turn superseded by the
Christ, who said to all disciples, ''Follow
Me." In each case the command is not to
I make the Guide follow you, but you the
| Guide.
Five miles over the river is a walled city.
Thousands are watching from the walls tne
foolhardy attempt of the disordered hosts.
One person, however, alone upon the wall,
unnoticed by the many, is looking down
with expeotancy. That one is Rahab. She
I watches eagerly as the priests bearing the
ark by the poles step with measured tread
down to the river, wonders as nothing happens,
starts a6 the priests seen actually at
the very edge, but at last her hopes are
realized, as-'the rushing current "is' stayed
by some unseen force and rolls up in a
mighty wall, while below the waters hurry
away urftil the last streamlets trickle down
over the stones and le3ve land for the passage
of the army;
What, after all, is the limit of endeavor?
Evidently not reason alone if at all. That
Israelite who stays behind and watches
the foolish performance from the hill side
paces back and forth in hio disgust. Such
a foolish waste of life! Such a spectacular
display. Will Joshua never be done with
such undertakings? Any one might know
that that motley herd could not be gotten
I safely across that boiliDg stream. No
i boats, no possibility of wading, or even
swimming?it simply can't be done. But
watch. It is done. I heard a teacher in a
certain normal school read in class for,the
correction of professor and student :wh>f
'she would gay to a class of boys and'girls
about the crossing of the Red Sea by the
Israelites. A strong east wind, she said,
blew the water down the sea until the
Israelite could wade across, and then
when the Egyptians came up the wind had
changed ana drowned all of the Egyptians
in the passage. "And what do you suppose,"
said the would-be teacher, "the people
thought that God made the waters to
go back. That's science for you. But, by
the way, such science is a little out of
date. Even Huxley declared that Hume's
argument against miracles was unscientific
since he maintained as a premise that
nothing miraculous or supernatural could
occur. As far as science is concerned it is
not necessary for us to determine whether
a thing is miraculous or not, the question
is, did the event occur, and if so, can we
find a cause?
Nor is the extent of one's own power an
adequate limit to one's endeavor. "Give
ye them to eat," said Christ. Impossible.
There are 5000 men beside women and
children. It would take an average man's
life's savings to feed them. We have, in
1 fact, enough to give a few men a little to
sustain them, a paltry live loaves and two
fishes, but what are they among bo many.
Ability says. We cannot feed them. Christ
says, Arrange them in groups; make ready.
What, then, are the limits of endeavor?
One limit is certainly God's command.
The Lord commands and the host proceeds
and the deed is done. The Bible teems
with commands. Are they becoming useless?
Has the Bible yet become an obsolete
text book? Does it need revision?
Some commands appear out-dated; 6ome
foolish; some difficult to obey. Yet what
He commands He will give strength to pe: form,
and the word of Cana is the word
to-day. Whatsoever He saith unto you,
do it.
Bfit there is another limit, which is still
farther to the horizon of life, the limit of
God's promises. God's promises are in
Him tea and amen. Someone has said that
God'? promises are the Lord's branches
hanging over the water, that our Lord's
silly, half-drowned children may take a
grip of them. Rather are they glimpses of
the mountain top, inspiring the traveler to
mount the heights that he may see the
heavenly realms beyond. Yet all of God's
promises have expressed or implied conditions.
Something must be done by us in
regard to His commands. Does He say. "]
will give thee a erown of life?" He also
pays, "If thou art faithful unto death."
Does He say, "Thou shalt be saved?" He
also says. "If you believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ." Does He say that He will
come in unto us and make His abode with
us? He makes us the condition, that we
open the door. Does He declare tiiat we
shall bear much fruit? He also makes as
the condition that we shall abide in Him.
What, then, shall we do in the face of
God's commands and promises which thus
set the limit to our endeavor? Certainly
accept tne limit, and be satisfied with no
less. A command means a duty, and a
j promise a privilege. The Christian life is
easy not by trying nothing but what seems
| easy, not by failing gracefully with the
hope that God's lavor will pardon our neglect,
not by thinking that .lis commands
and promises are no6 really for us, but by
agreeing with General Armstrong: "What
are the Christians i:i the world for but to
do Lhe impossible?" Bnt in accepting the
I high ideal the soul must as certainly accept
the comulmestarv caoclimoa that al> j
etTeDgth'ie'M God. -Power^bfcfbM^lt unto
God. Oar sufficiency is of God. borne pco vi^
->?? it v?corx /forme**]- ?7onn,i
yjc ?uu as it vwu ?%?
three words are Irgbt, life and love; Paul's
are grace, faith and power. ]t is by the
pace of God. His unmerited favor, reached
bv faith, a complete trust in Him, that we
obtain the power of God. And what power!
When Paul had reached the lowest
depths of Romans, the seventh chapter,
and sees that he must sin, and exclaims pathetically,
Who shall delirer me from the
body of this death? he can only answer
himself with humility and rejoicing, I
thank God, through Jesus Christ our Jx>rd. .
Watch the repetition. "Power," "in the
power of the Holy Spirit," "in the demonstration
of* the Spirit and of potvei*/'
"able to do' (exceeding abundantly"' aYove
all that we'ask or think according^to'tbe
power that worketh in us;" "that*y??>*Hay .
know what'is the exceeding greatness of
His power to upward who believe according
to that working of His might which
He wrought in Christ, when He raised Him
from the dead, and made Him to sit at
His right hand in heavenly places."
But power comes through faith. Watch
the priests as they put their feet in the ,
... , ' ^ ' 11? t
OrUllC 01 Hlftl KWUHCU EjllCiUJl. FT uu? ?>
fldence. How did you know -what waa .
going to happen? Some say that as we '
grow older we gain more wisdom and
therefore need not accept less and less the
revelation by faith. Great theologians according
to this might live with very little ,
faith. In much the same spirit it is *up- 1
posed by many that as we obtain more and ,
more strength we need Jess and less of di- ^
vine interposition and have less and less
need of faith. But 'let him that standeth
take heed lest be fall." Aa long as we live
on this*, earth, there will be neyr ietriffory
of wMom and power to reach, andtaew
Jordtffis to cross. We cannot, Panl de- ]j
dares, in Gaktians, begin by faith and. i
then be perfected in the 'flesh. Faith a& a
the stretching out of the hand toward c
Christ must always be a Christiana priv- C
jlege. a
i Take your own condition, if yon are not n
a Christian. If you join a lodge you make a
up your mind after examination that you e
can keep all of the requirements ?f the i
constitution and pledges* You know your
own ability and strength.- But when you e
come to Christ, you do not begin by way* h
ine, Can I or can I not bold out to the end, t
taking into consideration the powers that }
I now possess. Rather you .say. He has t
promised to keep that whicn I commit t
unto Him, and therefore I shaH bold (Ait. c
You will make the conclusion of Charles p
O. Finney as he went out into the woods t
engaged in a life and death struggle with
the Holy Spirit. The voice was saying. n
"Will you accept tfow?to-day?" He went
out determined to g/ve hiaheart to Christ ,-c
before he came out/-and -be did. But if p
was a* promise wbichi-he laid hold of. That- ic
promise waE: "Ye iSljall seek Me and find
. Me when ye shall 'search for Me with all '??
your heart." His answering faith said: 0
"Lord, Thou canst not lie; I take Tbee at ](
Thy word; I do search with all my heart j,
and I know* therefore that I have found p
Thee." And as he continued in prayer the 8
peace of God came into his heart. n
Then there are commands and promises t
connected with your burdens. Christ said, R
"Do not worry over the morrow." Can we a
keep from worry? You have read again r
and again the words, "Ca?t thy burden on t;
the Lord and He will sustain thee/' but j
note that the margin of the revised version j
says as the other reading,for "thv burden"
"that which He hath given thee, and also
notice that God sustains not the burden
but "thee." Cast upon God what He has
given you to bear and He will bear?thee, d
and in bearing thee the burden will be a if
blessing, not a curse.
Is prayer a'farce? Or can the limit of 5
2 nla'n ?f3n/1'a nrnmisPR? I ^
CIIUCUVUl ill piujrc.1 Kt\i muv vwu .* p.
"Whatsoever ye shall ask in My name, it 11
shall be done unto you." Christ declared f.
to the disciples as they had stood helpless tJ
before the aemoniac boy, "This kind com- Cl
eth not forth save by prayer." Beyond ?
the reaches of human strength and wisdom r
is the domain of prayer-achievement. Dr. a.
David Gregg when he was pastor in Bos- a
ton presided at the fiftieth anniversary of ?'
Dr. Cyrus Hamlin, long of Constantinople. ^
In the year 2851 Mahmoud had issued an
edict ordering the expulsion of all mission- e]
aries from tne empire. The British and c'
American ambassadors told them that they "
must go. William Godell replied to Hamlin's
statement, "Hamlin, the Sultan of
Heaven can change this; let us appeal to
Him in prayer." Together, like Ht-zekiah ^
of old, they spread the edict before the n
Lord and prayed all night. The next day aMahmoud
died and the edict was never
mentioned. Robert College is the monu- tj
ment of the work of Dr. Hamlin.
. You, to-day, are thinking especially of ^
the work before you. How much dare yoa jr
attemnt for Goa? We must often begin | ft,
our duty before we feel conscious of the I
strength. But God giveB grace for living | +]
and aying both and always when wc need g
it. Thank God, we are co-workers with j 0
Him, wmch means vastly more than khat +1
we are engaged in the 6ame work or the
same kina of work. Christ said, "My Bi
Father worketh hitherto and I work, *
showing that He was simply carrying out r
the work which His Father was doing. *
But He also said, "My Father, which '
worketh in Me, He doetn the work." So
we mean when we say that we are coworkers
with God, more than that we are
doing God'H work, but that He Himself'is ci
in us "working in ug'both to will arfd'.'do "
of His good* pleasure:" Professor Peahbdy,' P
of Harvard, declares that there are three
classes that make problems ior us in so* ?1
ciety, the "can't-wotks," the aged, sick and J*
defective, who must receive gentle and con- ?
tinuous consideration; the out-of-works" t<
able lo work, but temporarily unemployed; 8]
the "won't works," the professionally idle,- 81
vagrant,, mendicant poor. e(
In the church there are but two classes ti
to make problems; for there are no "can't w
works," as every one who cannot take a ; o)
Sunday-school class or do some other ! ei
church service, does work by Christian tes- j c<
timony and Christian living; first, the , L
"out'-of-works," who are willing to work *
but cannot find employment, and for this rt
neglect the church is responsible; and sec* *1
ona, the "won't works," and Goil pity the fi
church that has many of them. Let ua ii
rather be the "can works,'* the ^m-works," <
the "will works." ; . , t<
And dofs some one ask what are the "
prospects of success? Lefc'tfteni. listen to
Adouiram Judson, as he.toys,,''?*11 tSem
as much as there is an Al'mighty'and a j is
faithful God, who will perform His prom- j w
ises, and no more." Let us believe that I G
we have but two limits to all of our en- S
deavcrs, God's commands and God'a promises.
A Constant Guide. 01
We have often to travel solitary ways.
Some of us have perplexed paths to tread. g(
Some of us have sad memories of time? cj
when we journeyed in company with those cj
who will never share our tent or counsel
or steDs anv more, and as we sit lonely by
our watch fire in the wilderness we nave i ,
aching hearts and silent nights. Some of | "
us may be as yet rich in companions anc)
helpers whose words are wisdom, whose w
wishes are Jove to us and may tremble to ^
think that after awhile they or we shall
have to tramp by ourselves. .There is a
Presence T&hich never departs, which
moves before us as wo journey and hoveri
over us as a shield when we rest; a cloud .
to veil the sun that it smite us not by day, 11
and a pillar of flame as the night falls, be ?{
jng ever brightest when we need it most (j
and burning clearest of all in the vallej fcl
at the end, where His guidance will onlj pi
cease because then the Lamb that is in th* B
mifofc of the throne will lend them.?Rami w
Hofti. 1c
oJ
Golden Wh?at of Goodm-sr.
w
Tribulation is God's threshing?not tq a!
destroy nu, but to get what is good, heav? a!
cn.'y and spiritual in us separated from di
what is wrong, earthly and fleshly. Noth'
mg less than blows of pain will do this.
The evil clings ?o to the good, the go!den
wheat of goodness in us is so wrapped up m
in the strong chaff oi the old life that only
i Alii can Droduce I "VI
Wit? lieu v y nan ?/*. -?u *
the separation.?J. B. Miller. fc
? fe<
A Holj Ministry. JV
It is life itself, sanctified life, that is g,
God's holiest and most effective ministry <],
in <>.is world?pure, sweet, patient, ear- ca
nest* unselfish, loving life, it is not so
much what we do in this world as what wc ^
are, that tells in spiritual results and impressions.
A good life is like a llower
which, hough it neither toil nor spiD, yes
ever pours out a rich perfume and thna
jjeri'orras t Iip'j auamr' Djc, J. ? Mil* J
One Day at a Time.
)ne day at a time! That's all it can be;
No faster than that ie the hardest fate;
Lnd days have their limits, however ,w? .2
Begin -them, too early and'stretch them
too la*?. ?
)ne day at ft time! Every heart that t'
aches
Knows only too well how long that can a
seem;-- ' CJ
Jut it's never to-day which the epint
breaks; . pi
It's the darkened future without a ?.
gleam. ? ?
)na day at a time! A burden too great C)
t<$ be borne for two can be borne by one; ^
Vbo knows what will enter to-morrow's w
While yet we are speaking all may be in
done. i' ^
ea
)ne day at a time!?but a single day, ?
Whatever its load, whatever its length, 2.
^nd there's a bit of Scripture to eay w
That according to each shall be his ai
strength. bt
. c
The One J oat Record. w
The only absolutely .*just record of out jf,
ivfifl *io Sblfk Haj) ,nUA ?u?n?nk/?^k
itvw u? n??u vvu. ! ? Up DC(UVU?KU VM*
learts. He knows tbe/ttotive of oar best
nd worst deeds. We'itfay succeed in deeiving
others, but we cannot deceive Him. _
>nr sorrows and our shame, our desires
nd our purposes, our imagination and q
lental struggles, our ideals and dreams? af
11, all are town to Him Who. readeth 8(
ur lives, Who "hath set our secrrt sins a<
q the light of His countenance." C(
These are our records. What is the les- w
on for us? Can we expunge what we <j(
ave written? Never. But do we not p<
alk of a past covered by atoning blood? d<
fes, the love of God can heal the wound ]o
hat sin has made, but nothing can remove b<
he scar. We must keep our records a]
lean. We must learn to say no to sin p<
romptingB and world syrens that lure us ai
o ill. in
What of the record we have left in the tc
linds of them? If it be unfavorable, the pi
nly^way to heal it is to compel them to t<
hange their estimate by giving them tt
lain evidence of a changed life. The re- f*
ord from faults may remain, but we can to
frite across it some such sentence as this:
He is a changed man. He is not what he 111
nee was. He is living a holy and blame- ?
?BH life." And what nf Cintl'a honlr nf
udgment? I bring you good news. He **
romises to cover our gins from His own ra
ight and remember them against us no 08
lore forever. JSe offers to cast them into w
he sea of forgetfulness. And all .for the m
ake of His eternal Son. "With 'him is ^
lercy and plenteous redemption." But,
emember, there is only one way to ob- i?
ain that pardoB, that remission. It is f~
lis way. "There is none other name."? 5s,
lev. C. C. Albertson.
aI
_ yf
True and False Toleration.
Many people confuse tolerance and in- Tl
ifference. 'xhey think they are tolerant P
i their feelings, when, as a matter of .
ict, they do^ot care enough to have any in
seling. Ho^; often will a man who is
eeply interested in politics speak and act 8?
lost bitterly' 'towaras those whose politi- |?
al principles are not his'own, and yet *?
hink himself tolerant because he does not **
are enough about matters of religion to w
iicd differences of opinion there?- Mat- ,,,
ers of trutn and faitn are Avorth feeling
bout. They are so much worth feeling 81J
bout that it is better to be bigoted beiuse
we feel strongly about them, than i!
; would be not to feel about them at all. 2
'he old Puritan who has written as his
pitaph in the ancient Massachusetts
Qurcbyard: cj
Let men of God in church and nation dj
watch a
'Gainst such as would a toleration al
hatch." - d<
: more honorable in our1 eyes than the P<
lodern dilettante who feels very strongly Bt
bout the color of his cravats, but has no P:eling
about errors in religious truth. Yet
lere is a genuine and- 'Christian tolera- v
on which is not indifference. It con- &
sts with the most deep and serious feel- cc
ig. This toleration cares about truth, .
ud cares about what 6eem errors in its
:aching; but it rests confidently in faith
lat truth will win its own victories in w
od's good time; and it acts consistently
a the Knowledge that love is greater even
ian truth, and must break the path in jr
laces where trutn ha9 not yet appeared.
'his is the tolerance of faith and chanty, (
hich a man shows in places where he fa
.'els deeply, whether those places be in. jj,
olitics or in religion. fe
di
Sympathy's Lifting Power. th
A world without eympathy would be a H
^iel abiding place. . Those who have $uf- tfc
:red and received/espressions of true ?ym- C!
athy from frieiids would hardly aare a'
e require to watch over and mange our-*
link what their suffering would have dc
een without a spoken word of comfort lo
om a living soul. We are often tempted H
) feel that any word of sympathy we may
leak or write to another, at a time of H
jecjal trial, is not worth the doing; that (?
> many such words will be spoken to *n
lat one that our own will count for noth- t0
ig. The prompting to keep silent in an- *?
tiler's time of Borrow is a false one.. Spok- A
i sympathy is as a mantle of love; it
jmforts, strengthens and inspires. Our jv
ord Jesus Christ longed for sympathy. 811
here is no more affecting passage in the ?j
;cord of His life than that which tells of
"> nf Hi? nnH rfearosfc . i
iends to watch and sympathize with Him
l the hour when Hi8 soul was "exceeding
jrrowful." There has never been a word ej(
)0 much of sympathy spoken to a sorrow-'
ig one. Sympathy's very cumulation ^
>rms a great force that uplifts and mi
;rengthens. It is needed by the weak:, it fa
still more needed by the strong. It fr qj
ithin every one's power to give it. ^ind th
od, who is love, will bless it always.? ?t
unday School Times. j?
G(
Bo Cheerful. \yj
We ought to be as cheerful as we can, if "C
lly because to be happy ourselves is a an
iost effectual contribution to the happiess
of others. There is no doubt some
elfish satisfaction in yielding to melaxiloly;
in brooding over grievances, espe- ]
ally if more or less imaginary; in fancy- G1
ig that we are victims of fate. To be in
right and cheerful often requires an ef- coi
irt; there is a certain art in keeping our- th<
lives happy; in this respect, as in others, be
e require to watch over ana manage our- *el
;]ves almost as if we were somebody else, bis
-Sir John JjUDDock. cuj
sea
lticht Leading antMt'lgiit Following.
Jf wc see a good example we well maj am
nitate it. But we are not to be always As
:meinbering what has been done success- the
tlly. What can be done we should con- od<
der. God has set before us great princi- fur
les for our imitation and guidance. Lord eig
aeon says: "Set it down to thyself, as
11 to create good precedents as to fol>w
them." It is well to tread in the steps
i those who have gone the right way be- ]
>re us. It is even better to tread in a wa
ay that shall lead others aright, as they th<
re influenced by us. Are we leading .of
right, as we seek to follow right prece- Ur
ents?
Frightfnl Deaths in Desert.
The bodies of between twenty and thirty . *
en who perished from thirst while at- '01
impting to cross the desert between
[oapa and Los Vegas, Nevada, have been ^
iund within a few weeks. Many of the ^p
adies were without clothing, and it is be?ved
that the victims'' haa gone insane
om thirst and had wandered about nude J
ime of the victims are auDDosed to have aid
unk water from "Dear Man's Well," lo Ru
ited almost in the centre of the desert, inv
ie water from which is eure death to cm
iose who drink it.
Our Foreign Commerce. ]
The foreign commerce of the United for
Uites for 1903 amounted to $2,450,000,000. me
%
=====iBSB!s==! v
HE SUNDAY vSCflOOI
k frM
m
*JTER NATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS
FOR MABC^ 6,
object: Jnu Calms the Storm, Mark IV,
35-41 ? Golden Text, Paalin 107, 99 ?
Memory Terse*, 37-89 ? Commentary*
on the D?|'i Leuon.
I. Crossing Galilee (v?. 35, 36). 85.
me otner aide. jesus naa proDapiy oe)me
very weary through the long day's
ork ana needed retirement. He knew
aat quiet and re<t "could be best obtained!
1 the solitude''of Ihe'eastern shore. Ae- Drdingly
He proposed to the disciples that
jey cross over the lake.
36. "Sent aw*yitthe multitude.? Thejuntry
aroundKftfcernaum, and in all Gal*
ee, was densely populated an# great
"owds of people followed Christ wherever
[e went. His teaching was original, Hieersonahty
very striking, and His miraclesroved
His power and authority, .Some
ished to hear the truth, others had a
iriosity to see the man, and many desired - ,
> be nealed of their diseases. "At He
as." Christ had been engaged-up to the
fit moment, and now leaves without mak- ig
any preparation for the voyage. Just
efore the boat put off three of the ljsten-.
rs to His words desired to'attach them- >
ilves to Him as His disciples: 1. A scribe. \
An already partial disciple. 3. Another - I
ho wished to bid farewell to his friend* 1
c home. "In the ship." .Life has often> fl
een appropriately described as a voyagje. 1
hrist will come on board the barque in>
hich our destiny is being cartiedjforward,
we want Him to. "Little shjj&r" None
E the so-called ships on this latit were of
ay great size: they were what-we wo?id<
til fishing boats.
II. A great tempest (vs. 37, 38). "A eat
storm." It was one of those sudden* .
id violent squalls to which the Lake, of
ennesaret was notoriously exposed, lying:
i it does 600 feet lower than the sea ana
lurrounded by mountain gorges,' which"
t. lilcp ffiffantic funnels to draw down the1 '
>ld winds from the mountains. Theseinde
are not only violent, bat they come
Dwn suddenly, and often wbea the sky Msrfectly
clear, life's storms come rodinly.
Temptations come when we are nol-.
oking for them. "It was now fojl."'1 The
>at was now filling. This storm was probsly
excited by 8atan, the prince oftbe
swer of the air, who having the .Author
id all the preachers of the gospel together
i a small vessel, thought, t>y sinking; itr
? defeat the purposes of God. But the
ans of Satan often mistsrry. Christ is able
i bring good" opt of the threatened ill, an<f
ius cause even'the devil to assist Him injecting
the courage and faith of Hit
38. "He wafiin," etc. UntOrjChrist wi*
l the ship there was no storm. Wfyite
en are resting quietly in carnal seecritjk
1 is peace, hut as soon as Christ rebnkeeA
le world of sin the wicked are like the)
iging sea. that cannot rest, whose water?i '
L?t up dirt and mire. ''Asleep. Here)
e see that Christ was a human being?* t
an like other men. He became very V
eary, and His nature called for rest' ancT L
eep. A moment later when He stilled .
te raging waves we see just as clearly that ..
e was God. "They awake Him." In the
>ur of their distress they turned
hrist; so should we. At. times He may
>pear to he unmindful.of our need," arid it :
ill be necessary for us to "a^rake Him"
r earnest, persevering prayer.' "Master.""
he double "Master. Master," of St. Luke
ves vividness to their haste and terror.
tVe perish." We are in danger Of perish- '
g. They did not know-'that no ship could
nk with Christ on board. Thtise m dan* .
r of nerishins should always go to Christ
r help, for tnere is none who can,-save
om the storms of dime wrath but the
>n of God.- This was a model prayer. It
as short, appropriate, fervent. *
IH. The tempest stilled (v. 3#). 30.
Ele arose." Christ is always ready to asBt
those in trouble. If we can ^et'the
Tnpathies of Christ enlisted in our case
1 will be well. He (1) arose, (2) rebuked,
id (8) there was a great cahn. "Rebuked
te wind." The wind was the cause of the
aming sea. "Peace, be still." Literally,
je muzzled." The word means (1) to
ose the mouth with a muzr^e- (2) to re*
ice to silence.' He rebuked the winds a* ;
master rebukes a raging animal. Mark
one preserves these words which' were
jubtless addressed -to "the princp of the '
iwer. of': the air," by whose, agsncy the
orm had arisen. "A great calm." As '
ile, after a storm the waves Continue to;ave
and swell for hours, but here at the'
ord of the Lord of nature (there was
eat calm. The calm was gnat from the '
impleteness of the stillness.
IV. A gentle reproof (v. 40). 40. ''So \
arful." You should have remembered
tat the Son of God was on board. There- '
no cause for fear. Note some signs of *
eak faith: 1. Fear in danger. 2. Doubt
the Lord's power in danger. 3. Anx*
us solicitude about earthly things. 41
npatience under trouble. "No faith.'*
atthew records Christ's words as being,
) ye of little faith." 1. They had "no !
itn" in themselves or their own ability to
ish the elements or to quiet their own.
ars. 2. They had a "little faith" in their
vine Master. This is seen from the fact
>at they (1) came to Christ. (2) awoke
>rn and 13) annealed to Him to save
bn. 3. But tluyr own fearfulneaa and
rpnroof shows that they had only
little faith. 4. " Christ's queirtions go to
ow that they were responsible for the
ifectiveness of their faith. 5. Chrwt'd
ve for them did not lead Him to shield
is disciples from the reproof they dc?
rved. 3. Christ honored a little faiti". e
(1) arose, (2) rebuked the wind, and
) caused 8 great calm, Is tbere a tempest
your heart? There is One who is able
drive out all the elements that cause dtfrrd
and unrest and give vou perfect pfeace.
nd it is the duty of the tempest-tossed
ul to make a personal application to
irist for the peace which He so much deres
to give.
V. Great astonishment (v. 41). 41.
"eared exceedingly." Matthew savs, "The
en marvelled." They were greatly astopned;
filled with amazement. They were
erwhelmed with the majesty and ease
itfc which He issued His orders to the
ements, and at tbe; submission with
hich they, like livifcf intelligoncies. are
ished by His word. .."What manner of
an." What a vast display of power; bow
r plaited above rtorutls must He be!
irist is the great problem of hiatory, of
eolojry. of life. What is He? He is
nan," but what "manner" of man? He
the God-man, who stands equal with
3d on the high level of Deity, and equal
ith man on the low level of humanity.
)b y Him." The One who created wind
d sea could control them.
Has ? Florida Winter.
Dr. Godfrey R. ^Artin, a physician ol
ens Falls, has created a Florida climate
the Adirondack foothills. Tbe doctor
ncluded that he could partly duplicate
i atmospheric conditions of Florida, and
tried an experiment this winter. Be
ected his library in which to perform
i experiment. Sending to Florida-, be sered
a large quantity of native pitch and
i salt. Taking an earthen vessel'he filfed
with pine boughs and pitch. Over this
poured a four per cent, solution of'ealt
3 placed the vessel over an- oil he-ittrr.
annn no maw to h? had
> damp salt air and the invigorating
ar of tne pine, and by keeping the house
Dace going the required temperature of
hty degrees. 1
Frozen to Death in River Bed.
Robert Hendricks, fifty-six years old,
8 found frozen to death in the centre of
; dry bed of the Rio Grande River. Half
hie body was in Mexico and half the
lited States. '
Swears He la 148 Tear* Old.
Stephen Joice recently made affidavit here
the court of Dallas, Texas, to being
J years old, stating that he wa? born in
uisiana Province under the dominion oi
ain in 1756.
Woman Hoarded 91,000,000.
\n qld woman who for twenty years reed
in a "small room in St. Petersburg,
ssia, was found dead of privation, and
estigation resulted in the finding of fccitiee
valued at $1,000,000.
K a Mian War Force.
[t is stated that tbe total available war mm
ce of Russia in the Far East ie 390,000 Eg