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U Ail ATI ~ )T T T -*k /VUL By Anna Katharine Green, | CCrVfliCHT, 1890. BV RC CHAPTER XLII. Continued. "There you mistake. Could I have brought myself to consider so hurried -1 .? 1 ? ?._/i T HIJU U21JUUtkVH-l VI iiujdia.o x ouvviiw i have come to you to stand by her at | the altar. As it is 1 come for your advice as to the best way to refuse her request without shocking her feelings too deeply. I have a mother "whom I love. 1 cannot bring myself to marry without her presence. Shall I tell Jenny so? I only want three days in which to bring her. Jenny can easily wait that long. But how to propose it when her heart is so tern and lacerated?" "Mr. Degraw. let cs go to her. You will have words given you. If she sees that you love her and only wish to wait a suitable time that she may be mar?mas1 Ti-rth Vinnnv nrwl Tnil Tfitll satisfac tion she cannot be so unreasonable as to feel hurt. She shall stay with me. as she did before, until she is married." When they drove up to Jenny's house Hilary remained in the carriage. : "Ah. you have come!" The exclamation sprang from lips that had turned suddenly rosy at bis etep. He looked up as he heard it and taw Jenny before him in a dress suggestive of a modest bridal, and carrying in lier hand a bonnet and a pfcir of gloves. His heart for the moment stood still. "My darling!" he murmured, taking her in his arms, and, as he did so gently withdrawing the hat and gloves from her clasp and laying them on a rfable near by. "you are mine, then?all mine! No one competes with me ror this small hand. and I may Lope, in a few days?indeed, before the week has closed?to call you by my name before the world, as I now do in the innermost recesses of my heart!" He had spoken without thought, and le had spoken well, if her delicacy only was to be considered. Put there was another passion lying hid within that beating heart, and she started back -grounded and frightened at his Words, saying, wildly: "I was mistaken, then, in thinking tm 11 wmild -nrifcli me frv ho hphnlden to no man but you. I must stay in this house for days, eating Mr. Degraw's bread and giving orders to Mr. Degraw's servants! I?I wonder you can wish it. But if you say so " "I do not wish it. and it must not be. Hilary stands ready to open her house , 4o you. She is outside now in the car- . riage which stands in front of your ; house. She wants, and I want, that ] you should have every honor surround ing youT marriage: and this couid not be if we rushed off inconsiderately to a minister's house to-night." 'Hilary!" Jenny's voice sounded . strangely. "I had much rather not j marry you from Hilary's house." "And why, my beautiful? Had ever & girl a kinder friend than she has ^een to you?" "You do not understand," was the ; quick reply. "I appreciate Hilary. , but " Jenny stole a look at him. Should she utter the words that were trembling on her tongue? Would it gain her her wish and lead him to solve : an ner tumcuines uy marrying xit-r utfore the fatal letter could reach him? He did not give her the opportunity for testing this possibility. Seeing her hesitate, he took her by the hand and passionately declared: "My heart and life are yours, Jenny. You must know it from my look and clasp. I have no doubts. Yet with all this love and all this hope, I recognize that there is such a fact as duty. You are not all I have in the world. I have friends, 1 have my good name, I have something like a career to consider. But I do not consider these; I consider only my aged mother, who lives in a little country home among the Connecticut hills, and who would be heartbroken if her only son married without her knowledge and blessing." .. "Oh!'' Jenny dropped lier fnce in the hollow tof her two hands. She knew that her cause was lest. "Do you not see," he went on. his toiee sounding with richer cadence as be dwelt upon the two deep loves of life, "that I could not be a good husband if I did not start right by being a good son? And she has been such a devoted mother to me. My heart warms as I think of her ceaseless care and patient love. If I have any good in me it came from licr: and if I have any gratitude I must show it to her. Am 1 not right, Jenny?" She pressed his hand. Fatal as this delay was likely to be to her. she could not deny the mother's claims. "Go to her," she murmured, faintly. "I dare not ask you to remember my lavishes in preference to hers." He stooped to kiss her. 1 "And I dare not do so, Jenny. I idolize you. 1 love every hair of your head; every glance of your eye. Indeed, indeed, my love, I have no life .without you; but the more I feel for you the more I must feel for my mother, since you two are the only beings in the world that have ever made me forpet my art. Some day you will be the only ouo to consider; till that day comes let me pay my duty to both." She sobbed, but attempted no fur- i tber remonstrance. ' Why do you weep. Jenny? I shall come back very soon. You surely can "wait in paticnce for three days." "Net if you go back to the studio! I have a most unreason ins fear of the studio!" she cried. "Ever since yon tfiave been here I have bad a premonition of danger connected with that place. What does it mean? That come fearful peril menaces you or our lnvo''1' "Xg! jio! my darling. You arc tired and start at every shadow. I can forgive you for it. You have had a inn-etched week." ."JBut i* soil would onlv a a to tout . ?JIM ni"l*"lll I "ill I I'JLLli i ii *D " H? LIONS. A, Author of "The Foreaken M i Inn," Etc. g BERT EONNER'S SONS/ mother without returning to the stuuio It inav be only a whim, but is it oni that yon can humor? I may bo ?nli nervous, but?" Her atti:ude ane gesture finished her appeal. Eoti "wove irresistible, and he smiled in diligently. "It is a child's notion,'' said he "but the child is very dear to me am shall be listened to. I can take th< midnight tiain as well as any other I lnve money with me, and though 1 shall have to go without my usua conveniences, I will make it a fiyin; trip or buy in Waterbury what I thinl I need. Does that relieve your fears my darling, or persuade you that I an willing to do any reasonable or un reasonable thing that I conscientiously can to please you?" She kissed his hand. "Was ever a woman more beauti ful?" he cried, and showered his ten derness upon her. A thought of Hilarj soon came, however, to cut these dem onstranons snorr. tie gave ujs oe trothal a final embrace, and urged lie: to complete lier preparations for re turning "with Miss Aspinwall. Jennj hastened to do his bidding, and er< long both l'ound themselves in the car riage "with Hilary, "who was mud gratified at the success of Mr. Do grab's undertaking. As Mr. Degraw had promised not tc return to his studio, he remained "witl the ladies till eleven o'clock. Tben he left for the depot, but before he sail "Good-bye,'' .Teeny drew him aside and whispered: "You will think I do not trust you but fcr all that I am going to ask you for the loan of your studio key till youi return. I will keep it like a talisman TY\rr "r?ill/\nr on/! Trhon T f pp] there, I shall know that our love is safe, and our wedding-day at hand. Can you understand such nonsense?" And he, thinking that she meditated some surprise for him, gave her the key. and never suspected that in the trembling of the small white hand which took it, he saw the evidences of a relief, such as the prisoner experitnces when he receives the commutation of a sentence which had hitherto doomed him to death. CHAPTER XLIII. FATE TKIUMMANT. It hail-been decided during the hoar Mr. Degraw had spent with these ladies that if he l'cund his mother well and submissive to his wishes, that the marriage should take piace immediately upon his return. As he expected tc be back by Thursday noon, this would icave inviu jiiue over iwo uuys which to prepare the minds of theii friends for the event, and to make such arrangements for the quiet ccretnoDy they contemplated, as would prevent undue gossip, and insure comfort to the dainty and sensitive bride. But Hilary was a power when her faculties were fully aroused. She did all, managed all, with consummate tact and judgment, and though she could not hope to save Jenny or the two Degraws from criticism, she at least managed to make it perfectly understood in their own circle, that it was lbe i-rtist whom Miss Rogers was tc marry, and not his namesake from Cleveland, to whom she had been reported to be engaged. Jenny, meanwhile, kept herself secluded. There was one task before her, but that she kept for the last moment. At Boon on Thursday a telegram came from her absent lover, telling her to esneet him by three o'clock. Hilary was out, but leaving the telegram with Miss Aspinwall's maid, she dressed herself and went out, leaving no word behind her,' save that she expected to be home before three. She went direct to the building which contained her lover's studio. When she opened the door, three letters were lying on the floor before her, Lifting them with a trembling hand, she glanced at their several post-marks. They were all city letters. Tearing them open one after the other, she looked at their contents. One only interested her. If you read these words as she read them, you will see to what a degree: "37 East Street. "Mr. Hamilton Degraw.?Sir: This afternoon, it was my fortune to picli up, at uitr luiuci ui ruuuu iivtuiut? ituti Sixteenth street, an unsealed letter addressed simply to Mr. Hamilton Degraw. As it is a name well known it this city, I was about to venture upor taking it at once to your studio, wher a friend suggested tliat I should write first and inquire if you had lost such c letter. It is signed 'Jenny,' and seems to be of importance. If it is your prop erty, yon can easily regain it by calling at the above address. "Respectfully yours. "UXliUKUHi V AJ.NUJUUKUK. "To Mr. Hamilton Degraw, Artist." All! what a narrow escape! Thrust ing the three letters into hor poc-ket she hurried out, locking the studi< door behind her. Going at once t< street, she rang the hell of 37. auc inquired if Mrs. Vandecker "was in Happily she was, and after a few tov turing minutes of waiting in the parlor a sood-lookin.tr woman entered, am quietly greeted hf-r. "I have come." she said, gently, ant with h?r first conscious effort Ht act in: a part she did not feel, "for a lettci addressed to Mr. Degraw "which yow husband is said to have found. I an his intended wife, and wrote the let ter." "I am sorry." Mrs. Vandeckor began "but Mr. Degraw has just called for liii property." "Mr. Degraw:" "My husband went out of town thii morning. He met Mr. Pegraw at tin depot, and told him of this letter, am where it could be found. Mr. Degrav came for it immediately, and it is no fen minutes since he left here with J* ! in his hand." Jenny gave her one lock?the woman j never forgot it?then she staggered | j out of the house, and wandered dizzily away to Hilary's house. Ah! if the | ground would only open in mercy and | tnl.-n Iiot* in' film woe Tint TP/YPlllV fif ! * cumbering it longer. And her steps j ' prow very languid and her heart very faint as she drew up at Hilary's steps, j r.nd "with difficulty mounted to the < door. : j "Oh! if I could fall asleep," she ' Thought, "and know no more for j weeks!" I But she had to ring the bell, she had to enter the.door, she had to confront ^ Hilary, and. in another moment, her i ~ -waiting lover. i < j He "was standing in a ]ittlc reception- j < , room off the parlor, and she felt his i ' . presence before Hilary spoke bis name. I i But sbe did not have to nerve herself I 1 to meet him, for he was at her side be- j < ' fore she could shake herself free from : ] the torpor that was gradually benumb- I i " ing all her faculties. j < : "You see I have come back." he cried. | j , "My mother sends her blessing, and j ] | waits to welcome you to her heart. Is < I that not good news, dearest, and was | i k it not worth the waiting, to feel that 1 ^ * ? 4-tvrr\ hflOi.1t. Iionnxr ll OrC ' yOU liilVC UiUUL* iwu ucai tc , Aiviw j | 3 and mine?" t " She nodded mechanically. She was not deceived by his words. Had he | read all 1he letter or only a part? She j dared not lift up her eyes to see. i He divined her trouble, and sought at | " once to allay it. | 7 "Jenny," said he. "there Is a little \ matter on my mind which it may be 1 ' for our happiness to clear away before 1 r we turn our attention to the arrange- j * * ments for our wedding. It is about a j i [ letter?" ? "What fetter?" sbe faintly articu- j 1 - i i i ' i latcd. I j 5 "One written by you?at least it is * signed 'Jenny,' and is addressed to i Hamilton Degraw.' It was found ly- ? ) ing. unsealed, In the street, and was , 1 picked up by a gentleman who knew j my name, and evidently my face, for * he picked me out in a crowd to-day. 1 ' and told me of the occurrence. I have t r>nf rOHfl 19 { live i^-wu *V , "You have not read it?" < | She had forgotten herself, and there f was no mistaking her tone of absolute 3 | and overwhelming relief. He dropped [ his arms from about her. and a strange ! look of doubt began, for the first time, j to infuse itself into his expression. "No," he declared, "for I was by no ( means sure that it was meant for me. * Was it. Jenny V" * ; "No," was her well-nigh inaudible j ; answer. j i "Then, take it, dearest, but?" he 1 did not say this till it was in her hand j ?"I should like?I should be happier \ 1 if you would give me the privilege cf t reading it. I do not know why I de- J cire to; perhaps I am getting -whims- ! t 1 ical. too, but ever since it has been in . b my bands I have felt restless and tin- t easy. You had the right to address ^ Mr. Degraw, and I knew, of course, a . that you had dene so; but?call it c I jealousy or call it love?I long to hear ' > you say: 'Read it. Hamilton, and see ? how true my heart wac to you, if false }; i to Lira.'" J [ "You?shall?read?it." The words r i came slowly, each freighted with a c vanished hope. She knew, whether by ^ ! intuition or instinct, that suspicion bad c at last been aroused in bis heart, and J by ber own act. "You shall see it," j : she repeated, more rapidly; "but not 8 till I am dressed for the ceremony. B Will you wait till then?*' * There was such a depth of entreaty r : in her voice, such an unearthly gleam t , in ber eye, that he sought for what- ^ i ever word would calm her. "Yes," said he, "I will wait till you c see fit to show It to me. I do not ask ; to see it now or ever; I only hope that c i you will be willing that I should. A I wife is so sacred to her husband! Ho c wants to feel that she holds no secrets a from him?that all is clear between her ? soul and his. Do you understand, my d > darling?" t Ah, yes, she understood. She showed it by the wistful gleam of her eye? [ the passion of ber embrace. r To be continued. li I; A Curious Will. g The c'urious will case about which j: .. there was much talk in Munich last * ' week savors more of the good old fairy " tale days of "once upon a time" than * . of this modern and undomestic generation. Herr X was an eccentric old j i| bachelor who lived in a country town j J in Bavaria. When lie died he left .1 | t will with instructions that it was not t | to be opened till five years after his g death. J J His nearest relatives?a brother and i, . sister with a schoolgirl daughter apiece v . ?waited with impatience till the time j ^ should elapse, for it was known that ^ the old gentleman had amassed a small 1 r fortune by successful lottery specula- | u ; tions. At last toe wm was opuueu i : and the contents made known to the t I expectant families. A certain propor- v , tion of the money was left to various F . charities; the rest was to be divided jj , ecyialJy between the two nieces 011 c , condition that each of the girls become g 1 a maid servant in a respectable Munich R > family and remained in service for a I , year, at the end of which time the 5 legacies were to be paid over, provided . the would-be heiresses were able to e r produce an excellent character from ? the mistresses they had served during j] the year of probation. 'a One of the nieces has made a virtue ? of necessity and is serving her kitchen apprenticeship with a good grace; the g other, unable to support the ignominy j i< ' of donning cap and apron, has refused j e } to fulfill the conditions of the will, and i t j her father is disputing it.; validity on I e thp crround of the old man's insanity.? | F Loudon Tatlcr. I ' i v t Government Wants to Know. The controversy that Las waged " j about Koch's assertion that bovine i n , tuberculosis is not communicable to | c ~r man is about as undecided as ever. c The consensus of opinion appears to ^ j be that, while man is not absolutely y immune from animal tuberculosis, he in t far less susceptible than has generally * been held. To throw some additional t ' light on the matter the German Gov- g crnmeut has appropriated $1500 for re- i r search ior xue stuuy oi me ii'isuuii between tuberculosis in man and c-r.ttle. | I The Trouble Maker. ? 1 The fellov/ wbo always tells tlie truth ^ : may be depended upon to create a lot I t of trouble-Pliilrdelobia Record. i a sermon foe sundat' IN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE BY THE u REV. C, L PALMER. subject: "W1?t the Itljhteons Suffer and the Ungodly Prosper"?God Permits Affliction* to Come Upon Bis People an n Tost. Kingston, N. Y. ? In the Reformed Church of the Comforter on Sunday morning the Rev. C. L. Palmer preached a scholarly discourse entitled "Why the Righteous Suffer and the Ungodly Prosper." He took his text from Psalm 73: 3: "For I was envious at the arrogant, when [ saw the prosperity of the wicked." The Seven ty-third Psalm was probably :omposed by Asaph, who was a pious Jew, md one of the leaders of the temple chorus. The phraseology and contents inJicate that he was intelligent and spiritual, ind that in the course of his religious experience was exposed to the ravages of ioubt. However, upon mature deliberation all doubt was overcome, and he be:am'e strong in the faith. The particular problem that confused him was why the righteous suffer and the ungodly prosper. Why tne most vicious iriminal should enjoy material prosperity ind consecrated disciples be subjected to suffering. If God is perfectly righteous in Himself, and supremely just in all His iealings with men, why does He allow the jngodly to succeed and the believer to Tail? Why does He not obliterate every sinner ana preserve every saint? Why loes He permit the godly to pass through so many deep and raging seas of affliction? Why are many of tne Christless so free :rom human misery? These ar$ questions ivhich have been fresh in the mind of every generation, and the only satisfactory answer is the one that sufficed the psalmist. Before undertaking to develop so impor;ant a subject it is necessary that we digest our minds of one possible miseoncep;ion. The implication of the text is not ;hat all the wicked prosper, and that all ;he righteous are afflicted. It is not that ill the ungodly prosper because they are ingodly, or that all believers are afflicted because they are believers. It is not true ;hat all the worldly enjoy success, and all ;he righteous are discontented, unhappy ind unsuccessful. The psalmist was in a pessimistic mood at the time of writing, ind describes a condition from which he ,vas eventually extricated. It is true that iome godless men and women seem to be lappy and prosperous, and that some de;oted disciples are greatly afflicted. But t is far from the natural deduction of * * * - il-.i -11 iL Scripture ana experience wai an wjc tre unsuccessful and the wicked prosper)us, though we do acknowledge that the mcient sentiment of the text is not with>ut its modern application. We still wonler why the unrighteous prosper and the ;odly are afflicted. v WHY THE UNGODLY ENJOY TEMPORAL PROSPERITY. We cannot deny that many worldly peo)le have an abundance of life's blessings, ind that they appear to be quite free from idvcrsity. It is well known that many of iur most wealthy people seem to be indiferent to religion. They spend their time ind means either in business or seeking )leasure. Our contention is that human tuccess or failure is not an infallible criteron by which we are to justify or condemn he government of God. It is not uncommon for godless people to nherit property. Nor is it unusual for unlelievinc parents to leave an inheritance ;o their children. That while there has jeen utter indifference to Christianity here has been no want of concern in the iccumulation of wealth. And many posless a disinterested temperament that proects them from needless care and anxiety. Unbelievers are often more shrewd than Christians. "The children of this world re wiser in their generation than the chilIren of light." A life of utter absorption n the accumulation and management o? noney develops an acumen, one who readly discovers whatever will contribute to lis persona] and temporal advancement, ind since we are free moral-agents it is tossible for one to succeed in the direction if his ambition. Unbelievers are often less scrupulous, j Phey will do many things for temporal omfort that others will not. A godless nortal will keep a saloon or a gambling len, from which the profits are very large, le will desecrate the Sabbath or violate ,ny of the divine laws without hesitation o long as his personal interest is encour,ged. His motto is ''eat, drink and be nerry, for to-morrow we die." Would a eborn soul and heir of the kingdom do he same? A true disciple of the Great teacher would not consciously transgress ,ny civil or religious requirement, even if iv such a violation he would increase his eans and comfort. The attention of unbelievers is more oncentrated on the accumulation of wealth and on personal comfort. It is bout all many think of. They think about noney when they retire. They dream bout it at night. It is upon their minds irhen they awake in the morning, and they abor for it during the day. It is the only lesire they have, and it is not strange that hey should obtain it. Christians are unwilling to deprive themelves of the comfort and blessing of giv og. Our churches are supported by the rofessed followers of Christ. All the phianthropic and charitable organizations are argely sustained by those who bear the Christian name. The church has great reaon to thank God for those who give so iberally toward her support, while the j rorld is either hoarding or wasting its 1 (leans, they are applying their gifts to the ocial, intellectual, moral and eternal imirovement of others. The long suffering of God is not to be mored. God permits ungodly people to 1 btain the desire of their hearts. The J neering jest of Dionysius, the younger, n . yrant of Sicily, when, after having robbed he Temple of Syracuse, he had a prosper- . us voyage with the plunder is well known, j lee you not, said he, to those who were rith him. how the cods favor the sacrilep ous? The interpretation of the incident ras from the standpoint of a heathen. ?od simply permitted him to escape. J Doubtless ihe ungodly are allowed to J irosper, in order to test and prove the ' ighteous. It is a test for the faithful but 1 infortunate to see some uodless mortal ' arried on the sea of prosperity. But it is 1 test that we are abundantly able to sus- J ain. Socrates, being asked what would be ' exatious to good men. replied, the pros- s lerity of ths bad. What would vex the s iad? the prosperity of the good. It is ' iOt and cannot be made to appear in- < ompatible with the perfection of God's c overnment that the ungodly should have 1 measure of material prosperity. 1 I. WHY THE RIGHTEOUS HAVE AD- < VERSITY , Having admitted that the ungodly often j njoy temporal prosperity, it remains to 1 ^-knowledge that tne righteous are fre- ( uently subjected to the greatest suffer- 1 Dg of body and mind, and if possible to I scerlain the cause. Not all are greatly s ffected, though it is very likely that every J leart sustains some burden. 1 JEven our limited knowledge of the Icriptures and imperfect religious experences enable us to understand why believrs are often afflicted. It seems as if some ] t-ere destined to be unfortunate. Every- j hin^ they undertake fails, and the hard- ; r tney labor the more tiiey are disap- , lointed. We utterly repudiate the doc- ( rine of fate, but find ourselves confronted ( nth the fact that some seem to be crea- j ures of misfortune. j Many of life's adversities are brought ] ipon ourselves. We may accuse others ] ir even God, but in our inner conscious- , less find ourselves confronted with the ] onvietion that we have been the cause of ur own suffering. A man who attempted o steal wheat from an elevator brought [own an avalanche of the staff of life < I'hicli smothered him to death. He had 1 rangres^cu tne law anu urougut ujjou limself destruction. i Some of life's adversities are brought i ipon us by others. The social fabric is ; o closely woven that even one thread can- j lot be broken without weakening the I vhole. So we suffer for the deeds of ot lira. A bank oflicial abscounds with the unds of the institution and many lose ,11 they possess. One partner defrauds an- 1 ither and throws him into bankruptcy. 1 ["he President is assassinated, his family i ?roken-henrted and the nation and world ] D mourning. An intoxicated father de- i strovs the life of his child and the fam? iJy never recovcr from the shock. Unquestionably Cod permits afflictions to come upon His people. Adversity is required as well as prosperity. If it were nrvf (n-r Cm. ffirmpr wp should heeomc ir. different to the latter, and forget the source from which all blessings come. Prosperity is a more severe and refined test of character than adversity, as one hour of summer sunshine produces greater corruption than the longest winter's day. India with her famine is more to be envied than ancient Rome with her fatal apoplexy of wealth. Better grace with scarcity than plenty without saving salt. We believe that God sometimes sends affliction to bring His children back to Himself. He takes away the idol of some heart that He may be the only object of adoration. He sweeps away houses and lands to teach His people that they are dependent on Him. One has excruciating. pain to teach him the frality of the body and the certainty of its ultimate dissolution. Spurgeon used to say that many are like boys' tops, they only spin when they are whipped. There is a famous fairy tale in Bradwardine that will convey to our minds the interpretation that we ought to apply to tne suDlime doctrine 01 provinence. j\ certain hermit resolved that he would travel from place to place until he found some one who could ofter a satisfactory explanation of the government of God. As he was passing along on his contemplated journey an angel in the form of a man joined him. Tne first night chey lodged at the house of a very holy man. and they spent their time in praising Gca and conversing upon divine things. In the morning when they departed the angel took with him a cup of solid ;.old. The second night they came to the home of another religious man by whom they were most hospitably entertained. In the home they had an infant upon whom their affection centered. When they left the next morning the angel destroyed the life of the child. The third night they were entertained in a home of great vealth. When they left the following morning the angel killed the favorite steward. The last night was at the home of a godless man, to whom he gave the cup of gold as the angel left. After the fourth night the hermit asked the angel to explain why he had taken the cup and given it to another, why he had taken two lives. He replied, I will now explain. The first man was being ruined by his cup, so I took it away. The second home was more concerned in regard to the child than in the service of God. The steward was elain to preserve the life of his master whom he was plotting to destroy. The golden cup was given to the 11.. ^,.00 UXl^UUJy mail uctauac uio uuij luiuiui v rt no to be had here. Or in other and inspired words: "All things work together for good." All ostensible prosperity is not true prosperity. The prosperity of the world is greatly overestimated. Some godless men succeed in certain particulars, but they have not that which is worth more than the treasures of Egypt. They are poor spiritually. They cannot purchase at the market the one great need of the soul. The adversity of the righteous is also overestimated. They do suffer, they expect to suffer and are willing to suffer if such suffering will contribute toward justification. But it is better to be in moderate circumstances and be in the kingdom, than to roll in wealth and be outside of it. It is better to be in the kingdom with pa n than out of it without. There is only one just conclusion. It is that; the government of God is perfectly just and that we are safe in its keeping. A child once said, I know that the criminal will obtain justice because my father is the judge. We know tnat we shall have prosperity and adversity. We know that we shall have justice because our heavenly Lather is the .Judge. Short Sermons. Faith defies fate. Duty is always divine. A muzzle is not a cure. He who cannot bear humility vdrinofc ! wear honor. When a boy looks saintly send for a doctor. The time to boast is when you don't need to. Hitch your wagon to a star, but don't sell your mule. The work of this life writes the lease of the next. An empty dignity is as valuable as a hollow dollar. The best kind of hope is that which iends a hand. The man with a face that would sour milk will not save men. The only effective prison bars are those we forge with our habits. You cannot sanctify your sins by calling their consequences crosses. The soul with wings does not worry as to the stability of this world. If you intend to praise God for eternity yai had better practice on your neighbor in time.?Chicago Tribune. Peril of the Tongue. "Not that which entereth into the mcuth defileth the man; but that which proceedeth out of the mouth, this defileth the man." It makes a vital and an eternal diffprpnr>f? t.o lis hnw ivp p\nrp?s nnrcplvps. A man is in greater danger of self-destruction by speaking than by eating. Formerly many French words were in common use by the Germans, but now the Emperor's influence is toward the substitution of German terms for the French?the idea being that, as the people speak, so they will become. This is supposed to beget a higher and more solid patriotic or national spirit?as. other things being equal, it must. Statesmen perceive this truth in the bottom principle enunciated by Jesus, and thus apply it. But in our individual lives we often forget to act on it. It harms us to think evil; it harms us even more to say what we think. It is for this reason that silence is so often golden. But it is also on the same general principle I that it is worth while to speak a pleasant J word?if we can do no more?Sunday- j School Times. How to Get Warm, Warmth is a sign of life. That It is also j l very desirable part of our comfort is I ealizcd by many a one who reluctantly eaves a warm bed, and shiveringly meets winter's cold, indoors or out, txiese win:er mornings. If there is an open fire or i heater near by, it is a great temptation :o try to get warm by taking in ail the leat we can get from such a source. But iome have learned a belter way. They ihun heat from other sources and make it or themselves. By brisk exercise of their >wn bodies, by the healthy shock of a ( :old sponge, by an energetic walk before aking the car, they make and give out varmth, and the cold demon is routed. \nd this is the better way .in all spheres. >eated warmth is better than borrowed j varmth. \our own smile of greeting to mother will bring more warmth into your ife than you can get by depending on anjther's. Your own loving word, your own inselfish act, brisk and unhesitating, with >erhaps its healthy shock as of a cold sponge, will 3ct your spiritual circulation ! ;o tingling in a way that will warm you j ;o the core. Try it some cold day. A Lovable ynnlity. People would try harder for trustworthy | less if they knew how lovable a quality it s. When vou knew >'<ou can rely upon | my one. that whatever they undertake to Jo will be done, that you can really pass jver a share of your load to them, yon :annot help liking them. On the other liand, it does not- matter how amiable men i be if they are forgetful, if they are un- } punctual, if tney habitually neglect, th*y j become sources of :.nch annoyance that I me's liking is apt to die out.?W. K. Nicoll. Look Upwards. Why, it is asked, are there so many snares? That we may not fly low, but nay seek the things which are above. For just as birds, so long as they cleave the upper air. are not easily caught, so then ilso, as long as thou lookest at things above, wilt not easily be captured, whether by a snare or by any other device of evil',? L'hrysostom. Censure and Criticism, Censure and criticism never hurt anybody. If false, they cannot hurt you unless you are wanting in manly character, xnd, if true, they show a man his we?>k [joints and forewarn him against failure md trouble.?,Gladstone, I I : < THE SUNDAY SCHOOL!' INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS ! FOR APRIL 17. I Subiecl: Jesnf: Trannticrnrei], Mark ix.. 3. I 13?Golden Text, Mark ix., 7?Memory \ Vernes, 2-4?Commentary on the Day's j Lesson. I. The Transfiguration (re. 2, 3). 2. "Af- J ; ter six days." That ie, six days after the , savings of the last lesson. Luke says, "About eight days after." There were six full days and the fractional days at the beginning and the end. making about eight. Edersheim supposes the great confession occurred on tlie Sabbath, and the transfiguration on the night after the Sabbath one week later. There is no intimation i as to how the intervening week was spent. < "Peter, and James, ana John." These i same apostles witnessed His agony in the farden. He took these three (1) because ( Ie needed witnesses to prove the fact j when the time came to reveal His glory to the world, and (2) for the purpose of en- j couraging and establishing them in the j truths of His kingdom. "Into; mountain." j The place of the transfiguration scene is ! , unknown, but it was probably Mount Her- j mon, not far from Caesarea Philippi. This is the opinion of nearly all modern author* | ities. "Was transfigured." Matthew says: , "His face did shine as the sun." "It would j appear that the light shone out or mm , from within; it was one blaze of dazzling, celestial glory; it was Himself glorified. ! The face of Moses had shone, but as the j moon, with a borrowed, reflected light; but Christ's shone as the sun, with an innate, inherent light. May this not be a ; ! hint aa to the appearance of our resur- ! rection bodies? 3. ''Raiment; shining, j. etc." His face shone with divine majesty, | and all His body was so irradiated by it, i that His clothes could not conceal His glory, but became white and glistened as the very light with which He covered Himself as with a garment. II. Heavenly visitants (vs. 4-6). 4. I "Elias." Tne Greek form of Elijah. I "With Moses." Moses was a representa- I tive of the law; he was the founder of the j Jewish dispensation, which for centuries I had been preparing the way for Christ: ' I he was a type of Christ ana had foretold j His coming (jJeut. 18: 15-18); and through him had been instituted the sacrifices I C*an/1 nuhirVi ovnlflinprl I His coming death which 60 troubled the ! disciples. Elijah was the representative of the prophets. They had loretold the coming ana the suffering of Christ, and Elijah was the one who was to prepare the [ way of the Lord by his character and spirit reappearing in John the Baptist, the forerunner of Jesus. "Were talking." Luke >, tells us what this conversation was about to which they were permitted to listen. | They "spake of His decease which He i would accomplish at Jerusalem." They were talking of Christ's departure from the | world, including, no doubt, His death, resurrection and ascension. This would en- 1 able the disciples to see the importance of the sufferings and death of their blessed \ Master, which was to them the deepest j mystery. i 5. "Peter; said." Eager and impulsive , as always. Peter spoke just as the heav- j enly visitants were about to leave. It was j for him too brief a glimpse of the heavenly j glory. "Good; to be here." Peter spoke the truth. The apostles would be strong- , er and more useful because of the divine . manifestations. It is always good for us j when the Lord especially manifests Him- j ' self to us. "Three tabernacles." Or \ , booths, from the bushes on the mountain; j . such as were made at the feast of Taber- ! ; nacles. He greatly desired to have the heavenly visitants remain with them. 6. "Wist not." Knew not. How many times : do we speaK unwiseiy Decause we no nui. i . stop to consider our words. "Sore afraid." ' They trembled in the presence of the di- I vine manifestations. I < III. The voice from the cloud (vs. 7, 8). | . 7. "A cloud; overshadowed them." Mat- ' thew says a "bright" cloud. A cloud had frequently been the symbol of the divine ' presence. "A voice." The voice of God i the Father. It revealed nothing new, but 3 confirmed the old. for it was the same voice which had been heard at Christ's | 1 baptism. This would show to Peter and j ' the apostles present that they did not need 3 to detain Mosps and Elijah in order to I add to their happiness. "This is My be- | ' loved Son." Matthew adds, "In whom * I am well pleased." They Lad Jesus with ! them, and He was more than all the hosts 1 of heaven would be without Him. "Hear Him." He is superior even to Moses, the i great lawgiver. Moses himself had made < such a statement. See Deut. IS: 15. He < is superior to Elijah and the prophets, j and is the one to whom they '-ointed. i ' 8. "Looked round about." Matthew < tells us that when the disciples heard the voice they fell on their faces, and were i sore afraid; then, recovering from the shock, they suddenly gazed all around them and saw no person but Jesus. They feared as they entered into the cloud, but ? ? j L v : < when tftey neara ine voice 01 uou. pruu- j ably as loud aa thunder (see John 12: 29). ! and full of divine majesty such as mortal | eais were unaccustomed to hear, they fell fiat to the ground on their faces, heing sore afraid. In this condition the three d^ciples lay until Jesus touched them and raised them up, dispelling their fears. IV. The divine charge (vs. 9, 10). 9. "Tell no man." The charge which Jesus j gave them would prohibit their telling ; epen the other apostles. 10. "Questioning, etc." How could they , properly preach a crucified and risen Sa- j viour, when they were resoluteiy opposed [ to His death and questioned what tne ri6- ! ing from the dead might mean? Silence i and discipline were their present duty, j Had they preached Him as a glorious Mes- ! siah, superior to Moses and Elias, as set j forth in his transriguration, the Jewish j authorities would have held them guilty of treason. V. A question (vs. 11-13). 11. "Why say j the scribes, etc." What foundation have ; the scribes for saying that Elijah must | come before the Messiah? "The scribes ; and Pharisees may have urged as a capital objection against the Messiahship of j their Master that no Elijah went before \ a c i. i) I ilim. 1-. V'Uiiiein iiieu. viinsi van- | not mean here, and in Matt. 17: 11, as ! some understand these passages, that Elijah is to come before the second advent. "Restoreth all things." Tov restore is | strictly to bring back to a lost perfection, | then to develop, raise, to introduce a pur* i er, nobler epoch: here specially to proclaim j the kingdom of God. "And how is it writ- ] ten, etc." (R. V.) Elijah con:eth first and j restoreth all things. But how or to what purpose is it written of the Son of man ? that he comjeth? In order that He may suffer, not conquer like a mighty prince. c 13. "Is indeed come." In the psrson of John the Bantist. "They listed.'' Whatsoever thvy chose or desired. Deeded Land to Christ. A peculiar deed recently discovered con- 3 veys 120 acres of land near Darksviile, | j, Randolph County, Missouri, to Jesus t Christ. The deed was made in 1850 by a Johnson Wright and Eliza Jane Wright, ! b J.;= h.-is never been contested. | The de.c;cenilant3 of the couple have held I the property "in trust" and have thrived j upon It. The story is that, being very j pious, this old couple wished to return to | n the Lord the material blessings which He had conferred on them in this life. The ! a deed recites that the property is deeded to j c "Jesus Christ, King of righteousness, foun- | tain of 1 i" | p New Cnre Tor Hiccoughs. Frank Green, a student in the life class ; J; of drawing at the Trenton (N. J.) School Jj of Industrial Art, suffered with hiccoughs 1 (> for three days. A friend suggested the use j I1 of electricity and a light current was ap- I I plied to Green's body. An improvement was noted and the strength of the current I o was increased. Finally his hiccoughing J F ceased and the cure was complete. , a n tiirl Crows Too rat to .Vana. ; a *T o ??1,1 ?;ri nf jj JVl.UV flluuu. ?. -- , Dauphin. Pa., weighed 400 pounds, and af- * ter taking an anti-fat preparation for six pi months decreased in weight 100 pounds. J Then she became ill, and since then has ; a increased daily in weight, and is now un- j able to stand on her feet. The physicians n say they have never ?een a case like it. ! b . : 11 i C( lJstuxei' lu l"Hprx inuiirj. jj Health Commissioner Darlington.of New u York, found 126,000 bacteria on one bill. . j c V; v - V ME GREAT DESTROYER , ? JAM r CTADTIlwr CACTq ARHIIT JwlilL n 11 I un?v nw v ? j THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE.^ Hje Alcohol "Which s Moderate Drlnkei Imbibes is Slowly But Surely Under' mining His Constitution?Strong TLlff uor Aggravates All Acute Diseases* A very common thing it is to meet a ma$ who reasons like this: "I am not a habitual, but a moderate drinker. No one ever t-aw me drunk, and / yet I drink every day." And he sayB: "What harm of it? Can you see anything the matter -with me?'' He would seem to have the advantage of you. You cannot see anything wrong with him. As the outward appearances go tM case is against you. The man appears to be all right. But wait. Tn the man who comes out into the < Rtreet after a protracted debauch the effects of the whisky he has been pouring . I down his throat are so visible that even \ the little children notice them. 4 He may not be drunk. It may nave .>>1 been hours since he touched a drop, but A anv one can see that his Dhvsical svstem had received a severe shock and is in a ^ very dilapidated condition. 1 In the moderate drinker these signs are 1 not visible, but the alcohol which he daily; J imbibes is doing its work, and slowly but v'' iurely his constitution is being undermined. , iNow and then we run across some old V man who is hale and hearty, notwithstand- I ing the fact that he has been a moderate ft drinker all his life. I But no one will think of denying the fact' I that this old man is an exception?a very; I rare exception. Many old men who. notwithstanding the fact that they are old, should be hale and hearty, are suffering from the ailmentd born of the drink habit to which, in thei? earlier days, they were enslaved. In the ''rheum, the dry serpigo and the rout" which rack their frames, make their bones ache and render miserable and ? thankless the evening days which shonld be so full of peace and beauty, they are >, +Vi a (rtiifc nf f Vioit* mrtrl. prate drinking. Some few months ago we made reference to the report by M. Mesureur, Director of the Department of Charities, Paris, upon the results of alcoholism in France. ; ' ' The report was no sooner made public than the French liquor dealers were up in arms aeainet it. Indignation meetings were held. The mails were flooded with all sorts of protests against the truth of Mesureur's claim that alcoholism waa lowly but surely destroying the French' people. ''V 4 ? Tee discussion at last became so heated that the Government took it upon itself to subject the offensive report to a careful scrutiny, with the result that it was con* finned in every particular. _ k We quote from a poster, issued by the "Investigation Council for Promoting the Public Welfare," and now displayed all over France: < "Alcoholism is the chronic poisoning re? suiting from the constant use of alcohol* even if this does not produce drunkenness* "It is an error to say that alcoholi is a> - 'l a il ^ a lah i a *Li necessity iu uie man wuu una lu uu i?uu work or that it restores strength. "The artificial stimulation which it produces soon gives way to exhaustion and nervous depression. Alcohol is good for: nobody, but works harm to everybody. "Alcoholism produces the mosfr varied snd fatal diseases of the stomach and liver, paralysis, dropsy and madness. It is end of the most frequent causes of tuberculosis*' "Lastly, it aggravates and enhances all acute diseases, typhus, pneumonia, erysipelas. These diseases only attack a sober man in a mild degree while they quickly; do away with the man who drinks alcohol, f "The sins of the parents against the laws of health visit their offspring. If the children survive the first months of their lives they are threatened with imbe L-ility or epilepsy, or death carries then* rway a little later by such diseases as meningitis or consumption. 1 "Alcoholism is one of the most terrible plagues to the individual health, tie existence of the home and the prosperity of the cation." i : The document from which, the above quo:ation8 are taken is signed by the President of the Medical Faculty of Paris, by the.;' Chairman of the Institute of France and by the Medical Director of the Hospital I'Hotel Dieu, Paris?men who know perfectly well what they are about when thejr, aeciare xnemseives upon me Buoject ui <?loholism and its effects. i They speak unequivocally, and their word is that alcoholism, even -when it stops this side of actual drunkenness, is & mortal foe to the physical health and i soundness?The National Advocate. I Drinker# Cause Accidents. ? A friend has sent us a table of a hundred accidents, and the causes, occurring imong inebriates or persons intoxicated* The causes were breaking of carnages, run? iway horses, getting in front of railway; ' trains, falling out of windows, and so on* From this table it appears .that over half }f the accidents are due to railroads and notor wagons. Within the last year a large percentage of accidents occurred inj the use of automobile wagons, and he iraws the inference that these- vehicles are the most perilous for any persons who use, spirits. An inebriate engineer in the caW )f an engine has only to open or close the throttle valve, and the rails will hold the wheels on the track, and the driver had ittle danger unless some obstruction occurs. In driving a horse, the inebriate .ha?' ;he intelligence of an animal to protect him' rom some of the dangers, but in guiding i motor wagon there is absolutely nothing :o protect him except his senses and reason. When these are defective and faulty, lisaster is invited at every turn of the oad. Nothing will more clearly bring out ;he defects of reason and sense than drivrig a motor wagon. In a recent race the Invers were examined carefully before the ace began, and cautioned under no cirjumstances to use spirits in any form. A . noderate drinker, who probably was convinced that alcohol had a food and stimuant value, invited two friends to take a ide with him for the purpose of showing he great value of his machine. They itopped at a roadhouse, drank freely of, spirits, and were never seen after. The notor wagon was found at the bottom of i river some miles away, but the occupants vere carried out to sea on the tide. Sev:ral very sad accidents on motor wagona lave been traced to the alcoholized 6tat? >f the driver?Journal of Inebriety. Whisky Enterprise Endangered. Bonfort's Wine and Spirit Circular says:' 'A wave of prohibition is sweeping over his country from one end to the other hat threatens to engulf and carry to detructioa the entire whisky enterprise. It 3 growing stronger each day, and each day owns, cities, counties and even States are dded to that class in which the whisky usiness cannot be carried on legitimately.'* The Cru*ad? in Brief. ?i Sensible men the world over are begin- H ing to realise than drink is a curse. 38j When the church enters heartily into the. 99 nti-liquor agitation, the devil will have to EB sake trades. Hj London beer makers send among the peo- H ile of the poorer districts canvassers, who H ell beer on the instalment plan. 18j British life insurance societies have clear- m f established the fact that total abstainers Bg ive longer than "moderate drinkers," and H eserve a lower insurance rate. Some com- H anies provide a special department for H eeiotallcrs. H One of the most prominent saloonkeepers 99 f Chicago lives in a prohibition suburb. Ie says lie prefers to bring up his family Rl s far away from saloons as possible. H Out of 670 members of the British Farlia- H tent eighty-seven are reported to be total (9| v>c<.iincr? 'Rnrrl.anr? nnrt Wales are ered- HH Led with fifty abstainers out of 495 repreentatives, and Scotland with seven out of eventy-two members, while Ireland with 03 representatives has as many as thirty betainers. A young man who drinks even mode#tely thereby surrenders his place in tho usiness world. Should the fathers aDti lothcrs of marriageable daughters be ]es? oncerned about the habits of possible son?ti-law thau are bankers, railway managers,, lerchants and mauufacturers about th? onduct of their hired men? .