University of South Carolina Libraries
N'A-MATT i ^ k/iit i ^ ^ ; y | Bv Anna Katharine Green. | ' COPYRIGHT, 18S0. BY ROBE CHAPTER XLIY. i:i Coutiuued. " * f "At last the day came, .and I Jay on j * my couch, trembling and fearful?not <( ol' any possible result ol the deception c. - - n I was about to practice, t>ut 01 tee long sleep into which I must go. as u; Into a tomb. But the Portuguese was With me. autl si;* comforted uic: and t(] when 1 finally felt tLe shadows creep- ^ lng over my consciousness. 1 remember that she whispered, in a certain harsh. ,( yet persuasive manner: "Hp is hand- S1 6otr.e, signorina; and if lie awakes you. as the Fairy Prince did the Sleep- ^ ing Beauty, you need not feel alarmed. . as if he were an ogre.' That made me c smile, and so I fell asleep as a child might. Then she went away, and her sister, Annetta. took Jjer place, because . the Portuguese herself was known to ' Mr. Degraw. Annetta was not bright, and so was not fully taken into their confidence; but she understood what 01 she had to do. and how to do it. The j rest I was expected to manage my- 1D self. "Meanwhile a fearful mistake had . . . _ he boon ma(3p. Ey chance, which I can o-i only regard now as the workings of Providence. the Portuguese had been 1 led to confound the disposer of Mr. Delancy's fortune "with the Hamilton "s Degraw whose name was in the hall- nr *vay of a certain building that she sometimes paced. Her reason was not \ a poor one. She had seen Mr. Degraw. of Cleveland, come out of that build- 1? tog one day, and, being too ignorant to know that the artist who worked ^ and roomed there was an old resident 1 of New York, took it for granted that J* this was his place of work. *md the spot where he was to be found. ' n r "She gave Montelli the same impression, and as they did not wish to arouse ^ suspicion by betraying their interest In iliis nwn fliov ytpvp npiilipr of thorn undeceived as to the matter till after the note bad been delivered which hired you to this spot. And so. my beloved, it was upon your face that my eyes opened when I at last awoke aS out of my sleep; upon you who held m' In your first look'an instant key to my* P^ "heart, nnd made me feel, before I bad fully realized all that my sensa- De tions meant, that I had lent myself he to a scheme of which I was already tri heartily ashamed, and which, for some P1 reason I could not explain. I should Pi: find it difficult carry through in de peace and serenity. "But I had learned my lesson well, to nnd tried to acquit myself according to its teachings. Believing you to be n? the man who controlled the great an amount of money destined for the for- th tunate Jenny Rogers who should most gr deeply interest and please you, I told in you the story of my life, artfully con- ca eealing my real name, for fear of P? awakening your suspicion before I had ni< attained my end. wl "The result was encouraging. You to evinced not only interest, but admirn- an tion, and while I rccoiled from ray be own duplicity, I naturally felt that elation of spirit which inevitable fol- th lows upon the success of any under- mj taking. But, alas! you were curious as well as interested. You wondered ch as well as admired, and I was forced wj Into deeper deception in order to ex- id* plain tho surroundings by which we di< bad attempted to make an impression ar upon you. As this had been foreseen pe and consequently provided for, I did on not find ar.v difficulty in its perform- ho fcnce, save that my newly awakened an conscience rebelled. To Titter any- mi thing that was not absolutely true was I < rapidly becoming unendurable to me. sa but the necessity of the moment was in upou me, and I went through with my role without flinching. Turning to pa 'Anuetta, I appeared to question her. tl: and she to answer me, and when I afl thought this miserable farce had gone va on long enough, 1 repented to you the tei invented talc "which had been put into all my mouth by the wily Portuguese, to By this 1 hoped to explain the circum- tin stances that had aroused your curios- as ity, and dispel forever whatever doubt up might have been awakened in your fo mind in reference to Montelli and his en connection with rnyst'f. And I sue- lei ceedcd; you know how I succeeded. sa "But -a thunderbolt awaited me. en Just as reuewed peace was settling pa over' me. and I began to realize the th sweetness of hope, Montelli burst into pa the room and showed me by a word an and look that something had gone seri- yo ously wrong. Confused and alarmed, fo T nn.nU<ii1 V 4 ! /I ? X ?xt>UAlVU liJO v. AJJJtl JLUl LIUiJ, UUU JUII UlU Imagine my honor and surprise when H Annetta approached and whispered in tb my ear: 'A mistake has been made; at tliis is not the right man!' m; "Not the right man! And I had al- yc most exchanged -with you looks of ap- dr preclation and Jove. Shocked, if not of frightened, 1 was conscious of but one fo thought, and that was to be rid of year ar presence. "My heart had been stirred and my lit conscience awakened, hot fear made in me l'orget all this, and I promised to lei see you the next day, if you would only Re leave me then. You went, and, with tb you, whatevergirlishness had remained m in me. Henceforth, I was a woman. th "I dismissed you, but not with an es intentional falsehood. I really hoped ai to soe you again, and. if left to myself, dc would doubtless have done so. But, after you had gone, Montelli and the m /M.mA tn o rwl onAU HID Til i VHUftl trcr 1411LTC Hi <1 li\j. ouyu v* t **?vsee that, if we still hoped to succeed lb in the undertaking we had formed. I si must escape tiie consequences of onr in egregious mistake, by a sudden and T Immediate flight. And though I ex- th perienced a moment of rebellion, and til almost refused to have anything more pi *o do with the plot, I soon found I tb Jacked both the courage aud the wit m to contend with these two subtle and w dangerous adventurers. 1 became 1h again a tool in their hands, and, after ai hearing an explanation of how the/1* ihad just discovered the fact that thegel: 1 were two Hamilton Degraws, and &be artist whom I had attempted at / ER P ^IOXS. JL Author of "The Toi>aken H :RT CONNER'S SONS. iveiglc was not tbc gentleman with :e millions at his disposal, they insrmed me that, so far from being disu^-aged by the lirst failure, they had ;rmcd another plot by which the ?ht man was to be reached. Wheretmn 1 told them about Miss A spin all's unexpected visit to me. and they p-eed that I should make an effort i bring myself into her notice, as the Ian they had formed necessitated my ;iug introduced in some highly reactable way into the society freircnted by the Cleveland millionaire, his advice I was not loth to follow, ir ambition was by no means dead itfcin me. So, after a couple of weeks iont in n Wrstphpster town. I made lioltl n:ovp toward Great Barrington, here, as Montelli had managed to form me. Miss Aspinwall had now ken up her abode. "Monteili. meanwhile, had found :ough to do in New York. Though, ; I have before declared. 1 knew nolhg then of ihe cruel acts he was eniged in, I have reason to think now at he wrote the note and poisoned the >nbons that destroyed the factory rl he found at that time attracting e notice of Mr. Degraw. He had by is time caused himself to be engaged ; that gentleman's valet, and so had nple opportunity to follow his masr's movements and interfere in his ans. He also must have misled the iung girl at Miss Hadden's school to thinking she had a lover in Mr. egraw, for that gentleman certainly >ver wrote her the letter she received, ut. as I say, I was in happy ignorance this, and though, soon after my inrview with Miss Aspinwall at the p.tion. I came to know that danger id followed the steps of various girls ho bore my name, I shut my eyes to e suspicions now rife in my heart, id. happy in my own innocence, went i in the way into which I had been reed. "The life in Great Barrington yov low; Hilary you know. You can im:ine the welcome which her pity gave e. and. afterward, the sweet atmoslere created around me by her afction. Unworthy as I felt of it, I vertheless accepted it with a full art. It was so spontaneous and so astful. and raised me into an atrnoslere of luxury for which I always ned. I began to be happy. But eper experiences awaited me. You me; and I gave up my heart and soul your influence, and was so quick in irning the story of love, that I came ar forgetting my more worldly hopes d only had them recalled to me by e sudden introduction of Mr. Deaw. This was at a critical moment our lives, you remember, and you n imagine my sensations when I rceived, from the first look he gave Ua* t i*rwi + +r\ orv>iln nnnn him r, lUUl X UUU IU OUJIIV th half the fervor I smiled upon you charm the millions from his coffers, d make myself, in fact, what I had en so long in fancy?the rich and auential 'Miss Rogers.' with someing beside her heart to give to the m she loved. 'For, dearest, doubt me not in this, 1 arge you. To give you that wealth is then my uppermost thought. No ?a of coquetry was in my mind, nor 3 his glance, ardent though it was, ouse in me any suspicion that his rsonal feelings had been touched. I ly saw that he liked me and that my pe of acquiring his wealth was good d likely to reach fruition. I deterIned to make myself as agreeable as ?ould to him, even if I must seem to crifice my love for you to my interest the newcomer. 'But, alas! I did not reckon upon the ssions of men or the watchful eye of e wicked Montelli. Mr. Degraw's "ections became engaged, and his let saw it, and warned me in the inrview we had at the picnic, that if I owed my manifest partiality fpr you -1 mnl-o tliot Iinv MJUW ildCll, *IC 'tvuiu IxitiA\r 4JUII4W ility fatal. Indeed, JJe went so far to say that I must go ou smiling >on the millionaire or see you perish; r this man, who had already shorted one poor life, was not going to t another stand in his way, when he w the success of his schemes throated, as he judged, by a womhn's silly ssion. And I was convinced that ese were no mere threats on his rt, and became greatly frightened d took those secret measures to warn u, which I am sure you have not rgotten. "Montelli added, his efforts to mine, is purpose was to alarm you. and us force you to leave the town, or least cease all rivalship with his aster. That he was a man of devices m must have perceived by the adess with which he assumed the part a detective, when he found himself reed into a position that demanded i explanation. "But he, as well as I. calculated too tie unon the resistance which abides njj noble natures. You "would not five the town, and you -would prerve the attitude of a lover, and ougli Mr. Degraw did not seem to be ucli affected by your rivalry, 1 knew at Montelli had conceived the deept hatred for you. and that he only vaited an opportunity iu order to stroy you. "The announcement made by his aster of a particular desire to see e on a certain morning, taken -with e fact that a lawyer had already been imiuoned to accompany him on this terview, brought matters to a climax, he wretch attempted your life, and lough I knew nothing of it at the tne, nor of the jeopardy in which it aced him with the police, 1 did know iat he desired to have some talk with e, for I had heard from my window, here I invariably sat between the >urs of eleven and twelve, the short id peculiar bird whistle, which had sen made a signal between us. woo n hntoful rail tn me hut I not flight it. As in anticipation I 1 fcii ^rpcse, I bad already opened a 1 window In the hall below, 1 had only ! to descend to the lower tloor to meet 1 him. But when 1 stepped from my j room, 1 became aware, possibly by ; some occult influence, that 1 was not | alone in the hall: that my actions were , observed, ami that my future sreps i would lie watched. if not followed. "What should I do? Go backV It | was too late. But how go forward j without awakening criticism and risk- i ing discovery! Happily, my training j for the stage had included the study of the part of La Sonnambula, and re- j numbering it at this critical moment, i I made my body rigid and fixed my j gaze, and so passed on without pause | or shrinking, though inwardly greatly j agitated. For the persons engaged in j watching me were Hilary aDd a strati- j ger, whose presence awakened my i keenest fears, though no thought of his being a member of the police crossed my mind. "But this was nothing to the shock ! which followed, when in another mo- , ment I encountered you. This I wac not prepared for, and I inwardly quailed. But instinct kept me from be T WIT* i 1 raying iDys^ji. x jtuuiicu mj smu^-u i manner, and went by you like an ap- j parition. But terror was in my heart, j for I not only saw that for some reason j all my friends were on the alert, either to surprise my secret, or give me a pro- 1 tection I was far from needing. But i I was under the constant appreheusion i of Montelli making his appearance and ; so provoking a conflict which might end disastrously for you. You remember how I gave a weapon in the shape j of a sharp paper knife, and then how ! I wandered into the back hall in the : hope of cutting off Montelli and thus ; insuring not only his safety but your ' own. "I did not meet him. though he must j : have been there, and I came back hope- j ful. and went again upstairs. But hor- i ror awaited me. When I reached my j chamber door, I perceived the fierce j ; eyes and threatening form of this ' dangerous man emerging from the : back staircase, and though I had no fear of his keen knife, I had of the de- j j tection of our secret; for I knew that j Hilary and her strange companion j were watching us from behind, and , that he had but to drop a word or cast ; < a look belying his seeming antagonism, j 1 fnr our mutual understanding to be j { seen, and my despicable position dis- 1 covered. i ' "But he was too subtle to make such j J a mistake, or perhaps he himself had , , perceived the forms of Hilary and j i Mr. Gryce; for he increased the fierce- i ] ness of his demeanor; he even lifted j j his knife, and 1 was vaguely asking j ] myself how he would extricate me j i from this situation, when your friend, i Mr. Byrd, extricated us both by bis ' j sudden leap upon the seeming assassin, j j "In the struggle that followed I : < had no time to ti)ink. My eyes met j j those of Montelli as his knife flew from , his hand and fell at my feet; but I did j not understand his look, though I i 3 picked up the knife and sought to es- j cape with it to my room. But my fears i as to what he would do in his rage and i disappointment drew me back. I | ^ must gain some assurance from him ; ( that he would not visit upon me the [ ( misfortune that had fallen upon him- i t self. And so I had the courage to de- j J seend to where he had fallen, and look | j at him -where he lay, and listen to the phrases he uttered, and which were, as I took it, assurances that he still had hopes for himself, and little, if any, resentment against me. But when you came forward and placed my arm in j yours, his manner suddenly changed, ! as you will remember, aud he became quite fierce. He foresaw difficulties j if I clung to you, and threatened me I by word and gesture. I was glad when j we were out of his sight and hearing, | and was relieved rather than abashed ! when Mr. Gryee proposed to watch I beside my door and keep me from | harm's way till after I had held the j promised interview with Mr. Degraw, j which he and you supposed would ; place me beyond the malice or revenge | of the per&ons believed to be my ene- j mies. !0 "Of that interview I need say little, j ? It was a surprise to roe in more ways j a than one. 1 had not expected you to be present, and I had not looked for the I * proposal with which .Mr. Degraw j B prefaced his great gift. If I had, I j f might have been better prepared to |) meet it. I could not have accepted it j J even if upon its acceptance bad hung j t the wealth I now saw almost within : j my grasp. I had decided in the night j J that I would marry no man but you, * and I cannot tell you how I was af- i j fec-ted by his generosity, which left , i me free to bestow band and wealth j where I would. . : | To be continued. : j j t Great Futnre of Corn. a Corn is the great American crop. Is j -\ it to become the world's king of ce- 1 s reals? There is some reason for be- ; J lieving that corn has entered upon a j c career unexampled heretofore in the v history of grain production and con- s sumption. A recent report based on e the latest developments in this direc- ^ tion notes the significant change that f has come about. Until within a few J V- -1 ! years j!*urupt? uuu jhui? use wiu, j ^ but now is buying and fcating it freel}*. : i There is so great a demand from all j "< parts of the world that last year's crop, enormous as it was, is likely to be ! pretty thoroughly consumed. Of : \ course this sustains prices, and the j i corn grower profits accordingly. The j * belief is now expressed that the Ameri- j j can farmer can never again raise corn I < enough to congest the market, and that i ? prices are likely to be sustained at a j J high level. This must stimulate corn i < production, and there is plenty of ' ground where it may spread. The < "corn belt" is a wide one, extending , across the continent, and new methods : j Oi cultivation, the utilizing through ir- j ligation of millions of acres now un- | j tilled and the increased yield coming ; . from more skillful farming can add ! j enormously to tlie output.?Troy Times, j i Favors Newspapers Now. J j After trying other mediums in hi? j ( business the conclusion has beet j < reached b.v a railroad advertising man- * ager of St. Louis that the newspaper ; { brings the richest reward from adver- j j tising. For two years he worked up j * California excursions with the use of ' j booklets and circulars. Last winter | 1 he abandoned this method and did all j } his advertising through the newspa- J pers, the result being that he did a i greater business than he ever dreamed ] of- " < A SEKMON FOR SUNDAY AN INTERESTING DISCOURSE BY THE ocw i a totrv Snbject: T>rseverance?'The Trne Joys of Kcliffloii?Impressive is tlie Cheerfulness Born of the Testimony of a Good Consciencc?No Compromise "With Sin. Brooklyn, N. Y.?The Rev. J. A. Tracy, C. M., of Germantowr., Pa., preached, Sunday, in the Church of the Visitation, on "Perseverance." Father Tracy took as his text, "Be faithful until death, and I will give thee the crown of life." (Apocalypse ii: 10), and said: 1 can imagine no sight more inspiring or more consoling than that which I behold before me to-day. Hundreds of souls have listened obediently to the voice of God speaking through us and hundreds of hearts have been opened to the infusion of grace from on high. Cheerfully and bravely you have looked into the condition of your consciences and on detecting the marks of sin there you hastened to the tribunal of penance, you exposed the guilt contracted by sin, you resolved that with the help of God's grace you would never compromise yourselves in the sight of God again. The absolution of God's representative was pronounced over you and you went forth with light hearts and pure con sciences arid grace filling your bouIs. By the reception of Holy Communion the seal was set upon your>resolutions and the act recorded in the book of life. Your bodies are now the temples of the Holy Ghost, your souls are burning with His grace and in your present condition you are worthy to be called saints, the name given by St. Paul to the early Christians. Hence I have no hesitation in saying that the congregation assembled here today, pure, holy, unspotted, cleansed from the defilement of 6in, is .*.n object of complacency to the blessed and adorable Trinity; to God the Father, because He sees His people, the work of His hands, faithful, loyal and obedient;; to God the Son, because His tremendous sacriace has not been in vain; to God the Holy Ghost, because your souls are the receptacles of His grace and you show the work of His mighty hand. And the guardian angels of this church participate in the common joy, for they 6ee tne glory given to God by His faithful people. Yes, from the heights of heaven above the cherubim and seraphim look down upon you to-day and bless God their Master for His mercy t<"> you and for the wonders of gr.-.ce'wrought in your souls. And we, too, bless God and fall down in humility before Him at the thought of having been His unworthy instruments in this mighty work. For it is not we mac nave aone u. lrresistiDiy tne conviction is borne home upon us th'.t "this change is the work of the right hand of the Most High." But we have in His aame received your confessions; we have listened to your sighs of repentmce; we have heard your resolutions of imendment, and have satisfied ourselves )f your determination to persevere in grace find holiness. By your own free act you ieclared an eternal divorce from sin. That resolution was registered in heaven, and when you stand before the throne of God ;n judgment it shall be brought forth as :estimony?for your everlasting joy if you have kept it; for your eternal confusion f you have failed. Now, there is no doubt about your present dispositions. We know that as you low stand your hearts are for God and igainst sin. But we cannot close our eyes io the melancholy fact that the flesh is ;veak. When the present religious fervor jas passed your old enemy, the devil, will eturn to the attack and you must be prepared to meet him. You must not deceive ,-ourselves, but look the situation straight n the face and take measures accordingy. In a matter so serious it will be of mmense service to us to consider what it neans to fail. Think, first, of the base ingratitude to Christ implied in a return to sin. With ?yes of faith you have been able to dis;ern as never before the significance of he life and death of your Redeemer. You iutc iiiuuc a, pciouuai auLfjicatiuii vjjl l uc essons you have seen. You realize that t was all done for you. Yes, our Saviour lad you in mind when He was subjected o outrage and ignomy in the court of Piate; when the fierce scourges descended lpon His facg and back; when the thorny xown was cruelly pressed upon His sacred )row; when He hung bleeding and torn ipon the cross. The thought that you vould apDreciate His sacrifice and profit >y it, and through it be enabled to obtain nercy and forgiveness from His heavenly father reconciled Him to the cruelty of vhich He was a victim. If our Lord adiressed you personally to-day He would tSRure yon of this and tell you that the hought of your conversion made His eufeiings sweet. Moreover, He took the nost effectual way of making you comprelend the infinite love of His sacred heart. Sod's love for man might have been writen in characters of blazing gold across the icavens; it might have been proclaimed hroughout the universe by an archangel, md man would have still remained skeptical. He would ask for further proof. But rhen the Son of God Himself takes flesh ind suffers and dies for man, what heart an be so hard and stony, eo insensible to gratitude as to refuse to be drawn to God md return love for love. What baseness, then, and what treachry it is to receive the gifts of God and to urn over to His enemy that which should erve His honor and glory. How ungrateul the heart made for God and virtue vhich uses the power that God gave it n self-indulgence and ein. How wicked he soul redeemed by Christ which renews igain His terrible passion. For we do relew Christ's sufferings when we sin. We rave aside the marks of His love or us and as far as we are able we iay, "these things mean nothing to me. I rnve passions which must be satisfied, amotions which must be attained, avarice vhich must be satiated. The teachings, he passion of Christ stand in the way of hese and must give wav before them." \nd is it possible after all the manifestations of Christ's goodness that you will igain join forces with His enemy, the deril? Shall you again take up the scourge md shed the blood of your Saviour? Shall 'ou again press down upon His head the xown of thorns? Shall you make Him :ry out in bitter complaint, "Of what use vas My blood?" Oh. God forbid: God nre erve you from such cruelty and treachay. . Again, remember that a return to sin vill replunge you into the pitiful state rom which you have just emerged. Bear n mind the significant words of Christ, 'No man putting his hand to the plow md looking back is fit for the kingdom of leaven." We have begun the good work, vhy should we look back? Can you again ace the misery and remorse you extieri;nccd while under the guilt of sin? Was t not difficult enough for you to summon ip courage to break away from sinful habts, to confess the sins that oppressed your ;oul, to triumph over the concupiscence ;hat held you captive? Would you again )lace your souls in the slavery of the evil >ne who seeks your destruction? You ire now healed; take to heart, then, the vords of Christ, "Go now and sin no nore le6t some Avorse thing befall thee." strengthen your resolution, remain faithful md (lo not fall .into the happy condition )f him of whom our Saviour sDoke when ie said: "All who shall see uim shall be;in to mock, saying this man began to )uild and was not able to finish." And then comes the very serious hought of the limitations of God's mercy, [t is possible, indeed, that if you despise md reject His grace now, you may never iave the opportunity of returning to Him igain. "Now is the acceptable time, now s the day of salvation." The promises of 3od are annexed to the performance of present duties. To-day is the day of mer;y; the future holds the day of justice and )f judgment. "It is a horrible ?hing to all into the hands of the living God." If, lotwithstanding your present conversion :o God, your freedom from sin, your enovment of the possession of grace, you should forfeit that grace, belie your procssions of amendment and return to walow in the mire of iniquity and then close rour eyes in death an enemy of God?a rigmiui zaie awaits you. j-or ueaui 111 nortal sin means an eternal separation Tom God, an utter and irreparable failire to attain the destiny for which God :reated you; the forced companionship of fciacfcl who labored hard tor your de " " - : : M,\,?: V r^.?, ' ' r ' ' * ' v. struction and who will riant over your ruin and finally never-ending pains inflicted by the omnipotent hand of an angry God. But this is a melancho'v thought. God has other motives than fear to deter us from sin and to inspire us with t'ae reso lution to persevere in His grace. And it i i- i C .U~ nt ! is a pleasure iu iuiu uum m?.- luuk^hk ui > punishment to that of reward. The first effect of a good life that cannot fail to impress you strongly is the cheerfulness ana joy oorn er the testimony of a good conscience. Instead of the depressing and overpowering sense of guilt produced by sin, you now experience a lisht beartedness and a buoyancy which tells you plainly that a terrible weight i has been lifted from your soul. The dom- j inant note of your life now is peace, that j "peace which surpasseth all understanding," the peace that enables you to look j the world in the face unconscious of pub- | lie offense or secret defilement. You were strangers to this neace while you were i aware that you were not in the friendship of God. Now that it is yours you will I guard it against all attacks and never j again forfeit it by sin. You will not allow j yourselves to be blinded by the seductive j and fleeting pleasures of tne moment. You ; will be brave and loyal and steadfast in j temptation and remain true to your God j and grateful for His mercies. Evermore j you will keep before your minds the prom- j ise of our Lord: "Be faithful until death | and I will give thee the crown of life." And when, at the struggle is about ; to close and this drtarv world is fading ' t 0?,1 ! irom yum ?*icn iuc Duiiit v* ^v/v* . sweetly beckoning you on, vou* will be able ! to lay down youi weary heads in peace j and resignation. You will take courage j from the declaration of Christ: "He that ! perseveres unto the end, he shall be ! saved." Death will have no terrors for j you because you will be able to regard it ! as the gate through which all must pass j to enter upon the rewards cf eternal life. The inspired words of Holy Scripture: ' "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord," will find tneir fulfillment in your case, for you will go cheerfully with the seal of faith to the sweet repose of everlasting peace. Whither? To God and His heaven. Let us consider our reward. Let us try to pierce the skies and catc 1 a glimpse of the j joys awaiting us. Our mental vision raDges over the myriads . angels :.nd archangels, patriarchs and prophets, r.postles i ana martyrs., confessors and virgins, who bask in the sunshine of the nresence of God. Our souls are transported beyond ! the bounds of the material uody when we ! think that we, too. are called to join in | the praise of God, with the nine choirs ot i angels. Our hearts expand with joy when we behold those now rejoicing who, like us, have battled with t?.e enemies of their salvation. They have fought the good fight, they have finished tneir course, they i have kept the faith. Now they are enjoy- j ing the crown of justice which God, the I just judge, has awarded them for their fidelity. They are pkced beyond the reach of tribulation, for in heaven God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and "death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be anv* more, for these things have passed away. How clearlv does tlieir happy state exemplify the apostle's words: "The sufferings of the present time are unworthy of being compared to the glory to come which shall be revealed to us." And to think that the blessedness of the saints is the destiny which God has marked out for you. This is the final vocation to which God has called you. Listen to St. Paul: "You are come," says j he, "to the Mount of Zion, and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and the many thousands of angels, and the church of the first born who are written in heaven, and God the Judge of All, and Jesus the Mediator of the New Taofomonf n "Una onrth nnv invfl rnmn/ired ! to these? Is there anything under God which can justify us in forfeiting this immortal happiness? Where shall we find a more loving father than God, a sweeter friend than Christ, a kinder mother than ; Mary, nobler brothers and sisters than the apostles, martyrs ana virgins already rejoicing before the throne of God? Oh, what Humiliation it must cause us to feel ourselves so sin stained and unworthy, and yet to know that we are called to associate with such purity and splendor! Who are we that we should aspire to the companionship of the blessed? What have we done that with them we should gaze forever on the blissful vision of God, that we shoald intone the canticles of adoration with the quiring seraphim, that we should kneel as children at the feet of the Immaculate Mary, that we should consort with such saints as Peter and Paul, that we should proclaim the glory of the Lamb of God with .John the Baptist, that ; we should sing His praises with Holy j David, that we should repose in peace and ! rest with the victorious martyrs, that we j should attend in the train of Christ with spotless virgins, that we should behold the j bright radiance of eternal truth and beau- j ty with St. Augustine and St. Thomas? All this and unspeakably more is the lot of those who are numbered among the enin+a And vpf. it is to this that God ! invites us, calls us and entreats us. Let us listen to His voice and let our | thoughts and affections dwell in heaven, I and let us serve God as the saints served ! Him. Strive heroically, consistently and j steadfastly with your passions. Follow i i faithfully the means of perseverance pointed out to you in the holy tribunal of pen- i ance. Keep in sight the crown of glory : < lpid up for you. And although your names , may not be registered among the canon- : ized, nevertheless a recurrence of this j happy day will find you reigning in bliss, j The storm will be past, the haven reached, I \ the inheritance secured. Happiness un- j ' speakable! for "eye hath not seen, nor ear J heard, neither hath it entered into the ; heart of man, what things God hath pre- I pared for those who love Him." May you | i and I and all who love God one day be ' 1 numbered among those who stand before ' ( the throne when "God shall wipe away all j , tears from our eyes, and death shall be no ; more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sor- i row shall be any more, for those things < shall have, passed away." Providential Calamities. j , Seeming calamities turn out often to be ! 1 our greatest blessings. Loss of health ' has frequently compelled the ovcrambi- | 1 tious worker to cease work and enabled 1 4 U n /irtmVrt vannf V> 1 liAtf f\ f" Kor. 1 t:icui atquiic oucugbu umv iuvt vi/uw* , wise would not have enjoyed. Loss of [ position and business have often com- : pelled people to move to new localities I and begin the struggle of life anew under j conditions that proved to be better for , themselves commercially, intellectually and spiritually. Such experiences are often providential. They are like the story j that is told that, during the seige of Se- j ( bastopol, a Russian shell buried itself in ; < the side of a hill without the city, and ; < opened a spring. A little fountain bub- 1 j bled forth where the cannon shot had fal- ! | len, and during the remainder of the j siege afforded to the thirsty troops, who ! 1 were stationed in that vicinity, an abun- ' j dant supply of pure cold water. Thus the j missile of death from an enemy, under the { direction of an overruling providence. < proved an almoner of mercy to the parched | and weary soldiery of the allies. Do not 1 be disheartened if calamity comes. That t may be God's opportunity to do with you i < greater things than you had ever believed I > possible.?N. W. Christian Advocate. j ( ! 1 The Important Tliinc. Whether a man can go from place to j ] place is a less important question than ( whether he is able to move from subject j to subject of thought, or from one object | j of affection to another. In other words, ; , a man's legs are less important to him j xt--_ l!. i 1 ? i.;, i, a.t,? ! man 1118 IH'iiu U1 ?Jia 1K?H. /io tuc nua | Philosopher" expresses it concerning the j worn-out body while the inner man is vi"- j orous and active, "The fortress is a little ] damaged, but the garrison is quite hearty." i We have reason to be grateful to God i when the spirit truly is willing the flesh f is weak?Sunday-School Times. j rj Quality of Keceptivity. I C Keep the soil of life soft, its sympathy j J tender, its imagination free, or else you | may lose the elementary quality of recep- i t tiveness, and all the influences of God may ; be in vain.?F. G. Peabody. j _ Crosses, Dragged crosses are very heavy, but car- ) j; ried crosses are very light. i E ' f^S^d&y |||j^EbJ)Ik | The Snm of Human Duty. (Micah 4: 8.) Ee just in thy dealings with all; Give to each all the claim is his due, ] In thy word, in thy acts, in thy thoughti, Let justice be first in thy view. Thou can'st not be honest and hold The thing that belong to another; Nor can you thy own virtue increase By proclaiming the faults of a brother. His faults let thy charity hide; Let justice and mercy combine} Integrity, honor and truth, In love's gentle light, brightest shine. It is not thy weakness hath need, That thy heart may be bowed 'neath itl griei'; It is not that thy sorrowB may find In the mercy of others relief:? Bat, 'tis the voice of thy Father's corn- : mand, A duty thou can'st but fulfill; "Who loveth not mercy 011 earth Proveth false to a 1? ather's will. What heart can have love for its God, Whence justice and mercy have fled? How drear is that path that is trod, On which love's gentle light is not shed. . No matter how humble the lot, How rugged or steep be the way; Who walketh, relying on God, Hath help which never fails for a stay. May justice and mercy thus blend, To render our pathway bright? God's presence our footsteps attend, Till we dwell evermore in His sight. ?From "Leaves By the Wayside, by the Rev. Leonard Cox, A. M., Cbariotte. N. C. Faithful Sowing and Gracious Reaping. One of my acquaintances, in a certain New England town, was an overseer in a manufactory, with quite a number of men under his care. These men were both infidel and profane. Being a Christian my friend wa? deeply pained at the condition.of his workmen. Knowing his religious sentiment the men seemed to take a wicked delight in making their superintendent uncomfort? T?: 1 A. _ Al_ - - -1. uuie. riuaiiy ne proposeu 10 mem to aBK | him any questions concerning the Bible and the Christian life and he would answer them the following day at the noon hour, while the men were taking their luncheon. My friend considered the proposition as quite a serious one for himself, but having made it with the single purpose to win these workmen from their wicked life, he believed that God would help him through. The questions came in promptly, as one might easily surmise, and the conflict began. "It took me two hours each evening," said the overseers, "to prepare answers for the next day." But it was not long before this faithful and self-sacrificing seed sowing began to bear fruit. The worst infidel, the ringleader, the most blasphemous of them all, (whom we will call Robert) was wonderfully converted. The change- that came into his life was simply marvelous. He became, literally, a "new creature."^ He studied the Bible with great faithfulness and with increasing delight. He came to use it with great appropriateness and skill. His life was blessed, his joy was full. His TV VI IV ?JUL1 UlJiCi O uao The transformation in his home was quickly seen, for my friend, visiting that home by invitation, found a most happy household, wife and boys walking in tie footsteps of husband and father. One of that infidel company of workmen failed to yield to the persuasions of the rest. Later he was prostrated by illness, which proved a "sicknesa unto death. During that period of distress there was none so faithful, so unremitting in his attentions as Robert. The kind interest and sympathy he extended was deeply appreciated by the sufferer, and he was lea to commit himself fully to tfcfe care of the forgiving Saviour, whom he had so often reviled in the past. "0," said he, referring to the days of that reviling, "I aid not believe half I said!" Blessed are they that "sow beside all waters." The harvest is sure to mature and be duly gathered.?The Rev. 0. W. Scott, in Ram's .Horn. Prayer in Hainan History. A vast historical experience lies behind the practice of prayer. Millions have lived and died in the belief that God does hear and answer the prayers of His people. Men and women to-day are just as sure that God has heard their prayer as they are of their existence, and this is not a new thing in the history of the world. If it were of no use men would have dismissed it from their practice. It is not like the phonograph or wireless telegraphy, onmofliinor V??1nnfnTi<r to t.he nresent eener ation and to that alone; the best and the noblest of men and women have fully and earnestly believed in prayer. Anything which has justified itself for twenty centuries or throughout the whole of hiiman history must have value, and it must have value in experience, or the best of mankind would not have indulged in it long.? Ham's Horn. The Good That "Will Come. The Rev. J. R. Miller, D. D., speaking i of the good which will come to us if we I but accept unquestioningly God's plans for Dur lives, says: "There is a work to be done in us, in our own hearts and lives, which is even more important than anything assigned to us in the scheme of the world's activities. There are lessons which we cna learn much better in the quiet shaded sick room than outside in the glare Df the streets and amid the clamor of earth's strifes. Our shut-in days need never be lost days. Whatever they may lost us in money or in suffering, we need aot be poorer when they are over than if ive had been busy all the while at the world's tasks. Wc need only to accept Sod's way and go as He leads, and at the 1 14 ?wl 4 1> o - in nrtf + ho C m n 11 AS t ;nu we nnau miu umv ?u uw ...v. natter have we ever been unwisely led, but that at every step He has brought us to iome good." Goodness. The man who is good because he fears the punishment of being bad is, at best, jnly half good; the man who is good because he hopes to enjoy the rewards of roodness is only half good. A man who is jood because he loves the principles of joodness, a man who does right because 1 be loves right, is all good.?Rev. H. S. i Bradley, Episcopalian, Atlanta, Ga. Christ made spiritual character the result I | )f struggle. That is the one fundamental | jriuciple ?n all spheres of life. We call it | ;he survival of the fittest, or call it evolu- i :ion, we call it competition, we call it ivereoming. What we call it amounts to ! rery little, but the fact amounts to a great i leal.?Rev. J. B. Clark, Presbyterian, De- ! xoit, Mich. Dean Farrnr once said: "Do your best J oyally and cheerfully, and suffer yourself i ;o feel no anxiety or fear. Your times are n God's hands. He will direct your paths, tie will bless your aims if tliey be foi youi rOn)'s good." Whisl.ers Eleven Feet Lonjr. Besides being the home of Champ Clark, ?ike County glories in the distinction of laving the most luxurious crop of whiskers n the United States. The crop adonis the ertile chin of Vol. Tapley, a farmer, and - - 1 ' ' i ..I. \\r s more man eieven ieet 111 imigi.ii. *mcu i ( L'apley wants to exhibit his hirsute appen- | , lage in all its glory he takes it from his , 'est, where he commonly keeps it, ataches the loose end of it to the hinjre o 1 i door, and then backs off until it become* aut. ? ; The Length of Submarine Cable. I The total length of submarine cable laui ^ n^thc globe is stated at 222,253 nautical | % & i. * THE SUNDAY SCHOOL t INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR MAY I. T I . T' i | Subject: Prayer and Promlie, Luke si., 1? 13?Golden Text, Lake xl., 0?Memory Verses, 11-13 ? Commentary ou the Day's Lesson. ",7f I. Christ teaching His disciples to pray; (vs. 1-4). 1. "Was praying." It was th? habit of Christ to pray. Many instances ' are referred to in the gospels besides the eeneral statement in Heb. 5: 7. "When. He ceased." Perhaps He was praying such a powerful prayer as to arouse the feeling that they knew not how to pray, ana needed to be taught. "Teach us to pray."They knew that prayer was important,/and tlipv hnH a Hpsirp fnr nhilitv M nrnv nriwht "As John also taught." Each sew dia? pensation may not only have its new unfolding of truths, but its new revelations " may open new modes of access, and aevrt topics of prayer and modes of worship. A different prayer was offered in the Mosaic ritual from the patriarchal form. John opened up a new scope of prayer; and this new dispensation requires of Jesus to set the range of prayer in accordance with the new range of truth, and the new position of man with God. > -..t 2. "Say." The beauty and value of tho lessons in the Lord's prayer arise from:; 1. The tone of holy confidence; it teaches us to approach God as our Father (Rom. 8: 15), in love as well as holy fear. 2. Its absolute unselfishness; it is offered for all the brotherhood of man. 3. Its entire spirituality; of its seven petitions, one only is for any earthly boon, and that only for the simplest. 4. Its brevity and abk. O\ rciilc ul an vaiu ic^cbibiuiui \uv;wi. u. */? 5. Its simplicity, which requires not learn* ing, but on]y holiness and sincerity for its universal comprehension. For these reasons the Fathers called it the "epitome o? the gospel" and "the pearl of prayers." "Our Father." An expression of love and condescension. Here are two grand ideas:( 1. That tender and respectful love which we should feel for God, such as that which children feel for their fathers. 2. That strong confidence in God's love to us, such as fathers have for their children. This relation dictates to us reverence for His person, zeal for His honor, obedience to. His will, submission to His dispensations and chastisements, and resemblance to His nature. "Which art in heaven." In the former clause we express His nearness to us, in tbia His distance from us. In this we contrast Him with the fathers we have here below, and so raise our souls to that \ "heaven" where JHe dwells, and that mi- '\ jesty and glory which are there, as in their proper fcome. o ?> rpi._ J il.: ~e O. VJ1VC US. J. Lie ?UUU tum^o VI yuia life are the gifts of God. This teaches us our dependence upon Him, and is a lesson of contentment, frugality and patient labor, moderation, benevolence and' faith. "Day by day." In the order iar which our needs are felt. "Our daily' bread." Life's most common necessity.; Strength to gain it, skill to earn it, power) to eat it?all are from God. From Him tha . soil, the seed, the Eun, the harvest. This' includes a prayer for the instruction of God's word, wnich is often compared to' food (Joo 23: 12; 1 Tim. 4: 6). ana for the assiutasice and support of His grace, for strength to do His will, for that bread whic.i endureth unto everlasting life. i 4. "Forgive us. our tins." Sin is here represented as a debt. Man has nothing to pay; if his debts are not fontiven tney must stand charged against him forever.1. Sin is an old debt, a just debt, a great and growing debt. "We also forgive." Else' now could we entreat Thee for pardon ?| "Not into temptation." As th? prayer fot daily bread raises us above care for to-day,' and" the prayer for the forgiveness of sins is meant to quiet us concerning this past,' eo is the prayer against temptation a' weapon for the uncertain future, that we' may not fall again under the might of evil.- "Deliver us from evil." From all the wicked fascination and miserable re-, suits of sin. i II. The parable of the importunate borrower (vs. 5-8). 5. "He said." Although idle repetitions in prayer are forbidden,' yet persistency and importunity in prayer,1 wrestling with God and not letting Him' go until He has blessed us, are- here distinctly taught. See Luke 18: 1-8. "Midnight." In those hot countries it is com-, mon. where it can be done safely, to travel' in the night. "Lend me." It was usualj* with the Jews to borrow bread from one another; and certain rules are laid down when and upon what condition this is to be done. 0. "Friend; is come." Be- i: nighted, belated, and who has lost his way. A strong reason why he should have prompt relief. < 7. ' Trouble me not." The trouble made him insensible both of the urgency of the case and the claims of friendship. "In bed." We learn from travelers that it is usual in the East ,fcr a whole family to sleep in the same room^ each laying his mattress on me nuur. x uiuuuv. n i?uout exertion, which was equal to "I will 01 not." 8. "His importunity." Literally,' H his shamelessness; that is, his unblushing M persistence. His perseverance in asking H and stating his own inability to supply a H friend. "As many." His relnctance once H overcome, all the claims of friendship and n necessity are fe!t to the full. 9 III. The disciples used to persistency in |B prayer (vi. 9-13). 9. "I say unto you." H We have it from Christ's own mouth, who H knows His Father's mind, and in whom all Eg promises are yea and amen. "Ask, seek, ME knock." This verse contains very import- H| ant directions. In everything, by prayer Q| and supplication, we are to make our re- M quests known unto God; then we are to H ' seek," continue to ask and knock at the M door of Hi? mercy. Our approaches to God should be with earnestness and in HH sincerity. These three words include the ideas of want and loss. We are destitute H| of all spiritual good, and have lost God, H and are in danger of losing eternal life; be in earnest; be importunate; ask with confidence and humility; seek with care and H| application; knock loudly and long. 10. MR "Every one receiveth, etc." Christ binds fiffi Himself to hear and answer. No soul can Bffl pray in vain that prays as God has direct- BB ed. But our asking must be in harmony with the will of God, and in faith (James 11* 12. "If a son shall ask, etc." From Hi that which the friend will do, the discourse of the Saviour rises even to that which one could expect of a "father;" and from that which an imperfect earthly father HS does even to that which the perfect Father in heaven bestows. The stone represents to us useless gifts, the serpent and the scorpion things wnich are really harm* fill. If human fathers would not give OHj either one or the other to their children, Ha then it is impossible that our father in Mj heaven will mock the prayers of His children who call upon Him. 13. "Being evil." Sinful people are ready and anxious to give good gifts to their children. From Bfl natural affection they are readv to pro- ffi vide everything necessary to their fcvipport and comfort. Gnn of Thirty Miles Kante. KS There is being built at Reading, Pa., a BB gun which may revolutionize the gun-making industry of the world. It is a six-inch BM gun, 313 inches long, weighs 20,000 pounds, H?0 and twenty-one mites of wire are used in winding it. It has a service velocity of >500 feet per second, and with a battel ing charge will attain the velocity of 3900 feet. The maximum pressure is 55,000 pounds H9| per square inch. It has a range of thirty miles at an elevation of forty-live degrees. HB The gun is being built under an appropriation of $41,000 made by the Board of Ord- Mgaj nance and Fortification. Instead of the polid tube in cannons longitudinal steel HfiB segments are used wotlnd with strips of metal layers of square steel wire subjected H9| to an enormous tension, and covered with m external jacket of steel. t DH This Doc Lives on Corn. ?9| The greatest curiosity in Union County, Illinois, is a corn eating dog^ belonging to Fred Seeger, of .Jonesboro. This freak is ID in English bulldog He cares nothing tor a choice bit of beefsteak, but will eat an ear Spoke to the Flih, ' A, Spanish naturalist, Dr. Ribera, hag BB proved that fish can hear and distinguish |H Bounds and words. Concealing himself bebind a bush he taught the carp in a pond to come to the surface for fooa every timo^HB tie epoke a certain sentence. _ ?