Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Ill 4^ ^ ^ By WALTER III GHVPTER II. 2 * Continued. ^ The lovers sat hand in hand, Just a week after coming into their inherit- m en6e, upon the stairs of the great empty gl tiouse in Russell Square. No one else was in the house except the caretaker, J11 one of thos? old ladies who are not in a 1he least afraid of loneliness and ghosts,- and are only truly happy when they Lave got a fine, roomy basement, with a scullery, a coal cellar and two large kitchens all to themselves, and a ? great empty house over tbeir heads. 0 The furniture may crack all over that house, and the stairs may creak after <lark; there may be clanking chains, groans, shrieks, sobbings, wails and i" trampling feet at midnight; there may tie shadowy sheeted figures in the empty rooms at twilight; the caretaker 3s not in the least concerned. These " things, with the house and furniture, are the property of the landlord. She a' is thSre to look after them, ghosts and 01 all. At night she sleeps, and all day 111 long she makes tea. Nobody ever saw s{ a caretaker yet who was not making tea. The inevitable caretaker, there- T' fore, remained in the basement below 'making *ea while Tom and Katharine sat upon the stairs. They might have sat on the drawing room sofas or in *c the library easy chairs had they chosen, but they preferred the stairs, perhaps >. on account of the novelty. It was only at an evening party, as a rule, that S< young people get the chance of sitting re il >'IMI oi VU (11? OUUiO. They -were sitting on the stairs at lil he drawing room landing, hand in n< hand, and their faces were much more w grave than befits young lovers. Something?the more means more, the ad- "w dltional explanatory adjective "bad" n< Is understood?something had happened of to account for this gloom. T< . "Is it really and truly all gone?" ec asked KUharine, presently. n< "It is all gone, dear, vanished away, at Jpst as if it had never existed; in fact, as It never did exist. But there can be no n< 4loubt about it. Our grand fortune was tt dangled before us for one week, and ai then it was snatched away. In cherry *>ob it was always thought mean for P tbe'bobster not to let the bobber have the xjherry." B "Qb, Tom, it is wonderful." 01 "It is, indeed. I think of it with awe. m Some wonderful things are also disgusting, Katharine. Nobody ever heard , of a more wonderful thing or a more h( disgusting. If it is any comfort to us, is Jet us say it over and over again. Truly tl] wonderful. Providential. Quite. A an dispensation. An overruling, an " to "Don't, Tom. It will not mend mat- di ters to talk bitterly and sarcastically." nt "All right. Katharine, dear. Let us ni pretend that we like the new arrange- hj ment better than the old." ec "No, no. But tell me more, Tom. w . 1 How did you find it out?" o\ "It was iouiiu out lor rae. xuu sve, Katharine. I've got one first cousin on fa *ny uncle's side. He is a solicitor, o\ -which ought to have pleased the old b< man; but he is also fond of sport, and su billiards, and so forth. Jem Rolfe is e\ tils name. I knew he would be aw- tb fully savage at being left out of llie lo j " will, and I thought to make it up a bit <o him; and I hadn't got any solicitor of my own, and so I thought I would B keep the thing in the family, and I bi asked bim to take charge of my affairs ui tor me, and wind up things, as they ?ay. Jem isn't a bad sort of a fellow. V He doesn't bear malice against me. ai and he took over the job and went w through the papers. First, he bewail al firing notes at me every other hour, ?a)i;n<r ma -rohnf hnri riisrovered? of good investments here and bad invest- b< cnents there. In short, he found out lo "what the estate means, and where it is dt invested, and all about it?details "which did not concern me in the least, ta The no.tes are all part of the business. y< I suppose, and will appear on the bill fii of costs. However, the notes contained nothing that would arouse any ni kind of suspicion, and I began to think it we were going to be rich beyond the is dreams of avarice, as Dr. Johnson b< said. And then there came a check? ai there alw.iys is a check." sf "Well, Tom?" for he stopped, though It was some comfort for him to fee! ni that he was telling the story in a good tL descriptive style which would have ipi done credit to the paper. "What was tL the check?" di "You don't know Jem. His style is v< rather sporting. But, of course, being s* a lawyer, he knows what he is about. w Two days ago lie sent a letter, oegging ?< me to call upon liftn. And then he tt staggered me by telling me that there 111 was a charge upon my uncle's estate fl( of certain "trust money, amounting, with accumulations, to ?20,000. It was di originally ?12,000, out of which an an- a nuity of ?300 had "been paid, and the J< rest was to accumulate,Ite^ihe an- tt nmtant's heirs in some wayS My hi cousin remembered this annuitant w when he was articled to my uncle. Y5o ?n that our inheritance was ?20,000 leste il] than it seemed to he. That's a prettj\ big cantel to be cut off. But worse re- V nained. For Jem went on to tell me a\ that considering the depreciation of cer- w tain stocks and the losses my uncle liad incurred in his investments, he did cc not tfrink there would be much left Ti when that trust money was set aside. w First he said 'not much;' that was to re let mo down easy, tie men xom me ? -that there would be nothing at all li! left?nothing at all?when this liability tl was discharged." ei "Oh! Who are the people who are P( going to get the ?20,000?" <n "I don't know. That is Jem's busi- in ness. not mine. I Jiave washed my liands of the whole thing, and he has undertaken to carry it through and get ai his costs out of the estate. So that, cl after all, the nephew who is to benefit sc hy my uncle's will is the one he wished al to keep out. As for the .heirs, when in ?20,000 is waiting for them, they will ej not be slow to turn ud." * , I hi ' Ill > BESANT.ff* 9 III Katharine sighed. "Is that all, om V" "That is all, my ilcar. It couldn't bo uch more, because the part cannot be . eater than the whole." Katharine laughed this time, not a erry noisy laugh but a low cheerful ugh peculiar to woman the consoier, ?pt for occasions when heavy moods id disappointment and bitter words man have to be exorcised. "Tom, it is like the splendid dream : the man with the basketful of eggs, ur castle is shattered." "My dear"?Tom looked into the gray *es so full of courage and of faith hich met his gaze?"my dear" (here ? kissed her), "it is for your sake that lament it most. You were going to i so happy, -with nothing to do and ithing to worry you. The life of comirt was to be yours. Doesn't every oman desire the life of comfort above 1 things? Now we must go on with lr work again, 110 better off than our ?ighbors, just as poor and just as niggling." "Why should we grumble at that, om?" "And we must put off our marriage, atharine." "Yes, Tom; but then we never hoped i be married so soon, did we?" "And you will have to continue your jrrible lessons." "Oh, Tom don't trouble about that! 3 long as I have you I am happy; and member, we have had a whole w'eek ! pure happiness, thinking we were fted high above the common lot. And )w it is all over, and we are not a bit orse off than we were before." "When Christopher Sly, Katharine, as taken back to the roadside, be was jver so happy again for thinking ! tho wonderful dream he had had. o be sure, Christopher was an unlucated kind of person. Fortunately )ne of the fellows at the club know )out it, so that while, on the one hand, ; they used to say, there have been > congratulations and no envy, so, on ie other, there will be no condolences id no secret joy." "Then, Tom, forget the whole thing, lit it out.of.TOur mind." "I will, Katharine, as soon as I can. ut still, without any more crying, tell e, Katharine, did you ever hear of a ore awful sell?" "Tom, I certainly never did. I am lite sure there never was such a sell ?fore. But at sells, you know, one expected to laugh, just to show that ey enter into the spirit of the thing, id are not a bit offended." She sprung her feet, shaking out the fold of her ess. It was only a plain stuff dress, )thing at all compared with the magficent frock she might have worn id the intention of Uncle Joseph been vria/i nnt Tnrn it is done ith. But I have a fancy to go all er the house, just to see what might ive been ours, and then we will bid rewell to the inheritance." She stood rer him,* a tall, graceful girl, llght:arted, bright-eyed, her face full of inshine which lies on tbe cheeks of -ery woman who is frue of heart and inks no evil, and is young and is ved. "Come, Tom," she repeated. He sat hanging his head dolefully, fou are always right, Katharine, lit that isn't all," he added, under his eatb, as he took her hand and went i the stairs with her. It was not unlike the scene where irginia takes leave of her island home id her gardens; but in this case it as Paul, as you shall see, who was )out to embark for foreign shores. Thev went upstairs to the very top ' the house, where be the servants' ?drooms. They opened the door, olced round each room and shut the >or -again softly. "With each tioor." said Tom. "we ke leave of two hundred pounds a ;ar. There are five floors. Farewell, st two hundred." Below were the guests' rooms, furshed with due regard to comfort as was understood in the forties; that to say, in the four-post and feather ?d style, witli vasts chests of maliogly drawers. "Second two hundred," lid Tom. Below the visitors' rooms were the urseries?day and night nursery; but lese rooms looked forlorn and neplec-t1, because it was seventy years since ley had echoed to the patter of ehil en's feet and tbe music qf children's )ices. As Tom looked into them ?a idness fell upon his soul, as if ho ere robbed?with the inheritance?of is children. He did not communicate lis thought to Katharine; but he said Dthing, and descended to the lower jor in silence. On the first floor there was a large awing room in front, and at the back bedroom, which had been Uncle >seph's, furnished in the same style as lose above. The drawing room had ;en newly furnished by Uncle Joseph hen he married, about the year 1S44. what was then the best style. Nothig had since been added, so that this >om was a pleasing study of domestic irniture in mediaeval ages, before esthetics had been invented. There ta-e high-backed sofas, and solid iaVs and settees, and round tables >vefted "with expensively bound books. herA were engravings on the walls, hieli.werc clothed with a rich, warm, d paper, and the carpet showed a patrn of large red and green flowers unite any of the flowers with which nairn adorns the say parterres. But rerything was faded?wall paper, car?t, the bindings of the books, the gildg of the settees. .The drawing room, i fact, had not been used for thirty ;ars. * There was a grand piano in it. Kath ine sat down and struck a few lords. It was out of tune, but that ;emed appropriate. Then she looked : Tom, whose seriousness seemed to crease rather than to vanish, and her es became soft and dim, and she bent ?r Read iest he should; see the tears that filled them. Tom was standing at tbe window. He beckoned to Iier, and she joined liim. "It is u beautiful garden, dear. At this time of the year''?it was the middle of March, and at 5 of the evening one could distinctly see green buds upon some of the more sanguine bushes ?"at this time of the year Ihere would have been delightful walking in the garden, wouldn't there? But the for- I tune is gone, and?Katharine, sing that German song I taught you. I think we j shall like to remember that you sung it j in the house that was our own for a j' week." Katharine went back to the piano j and sung, with full and steady voice, j a certain German song Tom had taught j her both words and music. i "Tom," oaid the girl, "it was in this j room that you were to sit and write I your books, while I was to read or to j work quietly beside you. It would have been happiness enough for me only to be with you." "Katharine!" "The dream has been a beautiful dream. It has brought us together so closely. I know now more of your am bitions than I ever knew before. We have talked with more open hearts. ; Let us thank God Ton), for sending us this dream. Do not let us repine because it all came to nothing. We have been rich, and we are now poor. Yet we are richer than ever we were before. What is it that was said long, long ago??but not of a miserable treasure?'The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away.' You will have all that you desire. Tom. You shall write the most beautiful books still, but not quite in the way we thought.'' "My dear, you are a saint and an angel." He took her in his arms. Why did the tears rise to his eyes? "You sung that song just now; Katherine, you meant to bid adieu to . the inheritance. .But, my dear, it was for me; I am your treasure?you are mine?and we must part." "Tom!" "We must part awhile, dear. Only for a little while?for six months or so." "Ton}!" "They offered me, just before this will-o'-the-wisp fortune came to us, the post of war correspondent in figj'pt. I have now accepted it." "Ob, Tom!" "I could not afford to refuse. They want me to go very much. You see, Katharine, I know something about soldiering, and I can talk French, which is always a help everywhere, and they think I am smart and active." "Ob. Tom! to go out to the fighting!" "A war correspondent," he said, mendaciously, "has to be more than commonly careful. Why, I shall all the time be thinking of bow to get safe home to my Katharine." She shivered. "Thev will cive me a hundred pounds a month and all my expenses/' lie said. "We shall save enough out of it to buy all our furniture, dear, and when I come home we will have the wedding bells rung."' He tried to speak cheerfully, but there was a melancholy ring in his voice. "If I could only think that you would be cared for while I am away. Katharine, my poor, friendless girl!" "I shall do very well, Tom. All day long I shall be with my children, and in the evening there is Harvey House, and some of the girls there are pleasant and friendly when they are not loo tired with their work, poor things, and when they have got any work to do."' "Dear, tell me that I have done right in taking this offer. It is not only a well paid offer and an honor to receive it, but if I do the work well it will give me a far better and safer position on the paper. They never forget a man who has been a good war correspondent." "Yes, Tom, I am sure that you have done wisely. Do not fret about me. Oh, I shall get,on very well indeed < without you. Write to me by every. mail that you can?not a long letter ? which would take your time, but a single word to keep my heart up." "My dear, my love." He caught her with both hands and kissed her. "My dear, my love," h(* repeated, "I must leave you alone. If you want anything, go to my cousin; I am sure he will help you. I liave written the address here; don't lose it." "But when must you go, Torn? Not yet for a .week or two?" , : (To be continued.) Why Frait? Cool the Blood. In health the temperature of the hlnn<l is constant, and even when snots ! , and rashes appear on the skin, there Is no departure from ihe normal temperature unless there is a cause for fever, such as blood-poisoning, the invasion of some microbe or serious disturbance of the nervous system. In . fevers, when the temperature of the blood is raised, vegetables are never given, as they would not cool :he blood, but might help to heat it. ' ] Some fruits have cooling properties. as they contain citric acid, and this forms citrates in the blood and in- . creases (he perspiration. In serious fevers, however, it is much safer to | give measured quantities of citrates to produce this effect tlian to trust to \ the uncertain action of fruit. Fruit and fresh vegetables are anticorbutics?that is to say. they are opposed to scurvy. The primary cause of this disease is not clearly understood, but it is immediately due to an absence of these wholesome constituents from the diet. The flushing of the skin, with spots and rashes, popularly called "heating of the blood," is relieved and effete matted is eliminated by their use. Hence the popular phrase that "they cool the blood." The Worm Turn*. The minor poet brooded over his lemonade. "Shh," he said darkly. "Can you keep a secret?" "Till death," his companion replied. "Know then," said the poet, seizin? the other's wrist, "that I am to be avenged at last on the editor of the Trash magazine. I sent him a sonnet last week, and poisoned the gum on the return envelope." And with a harsh, blood-curdling laugh the desperate young man passed out into the night.?New York Press. Robert Baron, the recently appointed Assistant Secretary of State, is an athlete of renown, famous for his horsemambip and as a polo player. ' ' -j-1 THE PULPIT. 1 /TfCHOLARLY SUNDAY SERMON 3Y THE REV. A. H. C. MORSE. Subject: Evangelization. r Brooklyn, N. Y.?In tlie Strong Place Baptist Clmrcli. Sunday morninp. the pastor, tlie Rev. A. H. C. Morse, i preached a foreign mission sermon, the subject being "Evangelization." The text tvas from Joshua xiii:1: "There rejr.nineth yet very much land to be possessed." Mr. Morse said: There is an ancient Israel, and there fi a modern Israel. Thp task before the formpr was the establishment of tlie kingdom of God in the land of promise. And the task before the latter is tlip establishment of the kinrrdom of God in all thp world. The work hefore these ancient peonlp was preparatory and temporal. The work before thp church is final. What remains beyond the work appointed to us is yet birtdpn behind tho hills of eternity. The supreme thing, then, is th? evangelization of the world. And I mak*? no apologp this mornlnsr when I call your attention to this stupendous subject. It will do us srood to lift our eyes from our own immediate fipld. and look at the world which Is the fipld of God: and to leave our own little beaten trnnlr nn/1 in aTpirtrr /vnf tnfrk pf'rnlp where sweep His misrhty ^lans. Centuries have elansed since ofir work was announced. find herculean tasks have bpen performed. Mountains of prejudice have bpen leveled: rivers of blood have been forded; fires of persecution have been endured, and whole kingdoms have been taken. "But there rema ineth vet murh land to be possessed." I want to sneak to yon. then un "The Authority for Foreicm Missions. and Their Aims and . Inspiration." In a slncrle word, the authority for Christian missions must be found, not in the truths we hold, but in the Person, whom we love. This may be seen in the very etymology of the word, for authority Is something added?added to the abstract truth or duty. There Is no authority apart from a person. When an attorney is asked his authority. he rites the decisions of a judge: and when a scholar is asked his authority. he does not exploit his opinions. but he names his author. The same principle holds in relfsiorf. And the ultimate authority must be a person. and that person must be the hichpst. and moreover he must be known. It is easy to see. therefore, that au+lmri+T? ic rulorl frnm the fin-rnl'prt rp ligion of pantheism, for It posits no personal being. It rules authority also from rationalism, for reason, fallible and dependent, cannot be the highest. And it takes authority from agnosticism. for that declares that God cannot be known. But I shall not pursue this subject into the mazes of philosophy. I simply lay this down as an opening thought that the authority for Christian missions is fonnd fn Christ because He is a person, and because He Is the highest person, and because He can be known. It is in view of this that He can say. "All authority is given unto Me in heaven and on earth. Co ye, therefore, and tench all nations." Authority belongs to Christ because He is the eternal word, and is also the only God with whom we have to do. 1 know there are secondary sources of authority to which we must give obedience. such as to parents and teachers and to the laws of the State. But bn^lt of all these and over them all is the personal Christ, and He alone has a right to tell me what are truth and duty. And authority belongs to Him because He has undertaken to dispel the darkness of the world by a special revelation of the love of God. He has joined Himself to humanity to save it. And it is this revelation of God that is added to all the truth we hold that constitutes the authority for missions. Missions are the propaganda of Jesus, and His method of reconciling an apostate humanity. And- even if He had not uttered His great commission, stijl world-wide missions would have their claims, for they are but the answer to the call from the ends of the earth: for humanity sundered from God feels its destitution and misery. The whole world groans in its hunger. You can kear it in the plaintive song of the bird, and the sighing of every breeze. And after all a world-wide mission is only an answer to q world-wide need. The- authority for missions is "God manifest in the flesh." But what ' flesh? The flesh of the Anglo-Saxon. We are a wonderful people. Let us freely admit that we are the most virile race upon the earth; that our institutions are the best: that we possess the bulk of the world's culture and refinement; that we are the subjects of tlie best government: and are tlie most Ingenious and inventive and wealthy. But how came we to have this premier position? We are only the great-grandchildren of heathen and barbarous fathers. We owe our superiority to the remaining heathen nations to the fact that the Gospel was first preached to us. Wonderful we are. But we are not the sum total of the race of men. "Who do men say that I the Son of Man am?" The son of what man? Of Abraham? Of the AngloSaxon? Of the man of India? Or of Africa? Or the man of the islands of the sea? The manhood of humanity was in the flesh of Jesus, and I fail back upon the I) u inanity of Christ as my authority for a world-wide mission. And that is what makes me confident that the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation to India and China and Africa, to the islands of the sea. Not that we hope to make these peoples but a pale copy of the Anglo-Saxon: but that we shall develop that sift of thought and heart which God has wrought into their texture, and that they shall be patterned, not after us, but after the Son of Man. The authority. for missions is found in a universal hunger of the heart. So much then for the authority for foreign missions. Now I speak of their *? ** r? * */! 'nfninnllnii A Mr? fh!a is r? aiiu auu iiio];iiiuivii? anu tun? to ?.? pliase of the subject which is not always clear in the public wind. I have read in a missionary paper, even, that if foreign missions are to accomplish permanent results, we must aim at the total reorganization of the whole social fabric of the countries into which we go. Now that is an evil doctrine. You can find nothing to justify it in the history. nor in the experience of the church, nor in the example of our Lord and His apostles. They did not aim at | reconstructing the social fabric, but at implanting the life of Christ in the human heart. They sought to renew the lives of men, and they knew that. < these new lives would demand new social combinations. They knew that 110 human tyranny could exist where Jesus Christ was King. We must not confuse the immediate aim with the secondary aim. nor with the ultimate result of missions. There is no work in all the world so powerful to accomplish secondary results as the work of foreign missions. Of course, the habits are changed and the civic life reorganized. I'.ut that is not the immediate aim. The immediate aim ;-;;5 ; , .. , . V , fee .- ! Is not social nor civilizing, but rellg- I ions. And I lind rnther, as Mr. Speor [ says, "Plant one seed of the life of i Christ under the crust of heathen life I than cover that whn|?? crust over "with tlie veneer of our social hnb?ts. or tlio vestrire of Western civilization." We are trustees, but not primarily of better social customs, but of a life -which will shape its own civilization. The aim of missions is evangelization. and that is the publishing in all the -world of Cod's glad tidings. The nim is to make Christ known in all the world. I state it thus, for though it does not shift our responsibility. It does lighten our burden. Tt does not remove the obligation to hasten with the proclamation of Christ, but It does relieve us of the imnossihle burden of converting the world. We cannot convert a single soul: how shall we convert the world? But we can present the Oospel in such a way to every ?oul*in all the world that the responsibility for what is done with it shall rest no longer upon the church nor upon any person in the church, but upon the man himself. We can so present the message of. evangelization that we can fling the responsibility for the world's conversion back upon Cod Himself, for He alone can renew ahuman heart. T do not preach upon missions because I want to challenge your sympathies for the philanthropic Tesults which they achieve. My object is larger than that. I want your aid in making Jesus known. I know these other things will follow. 1 believe that Cod is King, and that the hand that shaped the world at first Is in all the forces that to-day are shaping life. He holds^ the reins of politics and commerce and civilization. It was John Newton who said, he read the New ^ 1 - ?- Ai 1 IUA j-esramenr to see now uvu iuvpu me i world, but lie read the newspaners to I see how He governed it. And I am convinced that all our everyday affairs do run into the great goals of God. And these things, onr governments and customs and inventions, are but as the chaff bt.-fore the wind as compared with the supreme purpose that God. who Is Kintr, shall reign as King, and rule as Lord of Lords. We are getting to understand the problem, and these last years are witnessing wonderful movements. The annual accessions to the'churches in . the foreign fields far outnumber those of the churches at home. And in many instances their offerings to this great work go far before our own. More work is brinsr assigned to the native churches, and greater responsibilities laid on them. Modern missions aro young, but we can almost see the day when mission boards will not need to send to foreign fields great sums of monp.v, nor large numbers of preachers. For the native churches are prolific in preachers' of their own who can find the hearts of their people much better than we can. And already the day is come when our largest attention is piven to the teaching and education of the preachers, and to the General administration of thp work. That is the meaning of this call for endowment for the great Christian colleges and seminaries whirh are growing up in those far off lands. > Paul said he was n "prisoner of Tps'.is Christ." That is the essence of the missionary life. Thp Lord's prisoner?not the prisoner of Rome, though he lay in a Roman prison, and was sconrged of Caesar. He said he was an "ambassador in bonds." He didn't look like that. His old rusty chain rattled on his wrists, and clanked in his empty cell. But he said t am conducting an embassy in chains. Oil, what limitations the missionaries have pndured! Sickness and suffering and infirmity and separation from wifp and children. And what are thpy doing? Conducting an embassy for heaven in chains and in a limitation which Cod permits. They.J|D not complain, they feel their freeMp. and are the happiest men in alt the earth. I have seen them, batte.red and worn. return to rue cliuyohes at home. But I never applaud them as some do when they speak at national meetings. We who-l remain at home are not worthy ,to unloose the latchets of their shoes. The story of modern missions re.tds like a romance. One hundred years ago it was a forlorn cause. Then the doors of the nations were locked, and the church itself was either unmisslonary or anti-missionnry. Now the sky is ablaze with light and there is no self-respecting church in all the land that will tolerate a man in its pnlpit who does not publish foreign missions. And all over the world are to be seen' the camp fires of those who have gone away with the great evangel. Can we not read the signs of the times? Great days are crowding upon us. and after years of prayer and patient labor, the Lord is giving us the attention of this great section of the city. Can it be saved? Do we believe^ in the strong arm of the Gospel? Then pour your life into this great work. The church?this church, exists for no, other purpose than to give the Gospel to the world. Be large in yOur interest in our immediate work.. But that js not enough. Be large in your effort in world-wide evangelization. On the Plain. Henry Clay Trumbull, speaking of the mission of ttfe lowly road In the Christian's life and its relative importance in comparison to the mountain, road, says: '"There are times in everyj life when the soul stands on the clean heights, and no task seems to be too* difficult to the boundless enthusiasm of the moment. But what is to be done when the soul has descended into the plains, and the enthusiasm is gone, and the .task remains? Only to go on bravely, trusting to the clearer vision on the mountain top, and making faithful performance fill the place of enthusiasm. The mountain and the plain has each its place in Christian life?the mountain for clear vision ahead, the lowly road along the plain for the actual performance of the journey." . Chrinllan Experience. Henry Ward Beecher once said: "Shallow waters are easily muddied. After a nicht of storm the waters of the bay. along the beach. are foul and black with the mire and dirt. But look beyond, one into the depp "wnter, bow blue and clear it is! The white caps 011 the surface show the violence of( the wind, but the water is too deep) for the storms that sweep its surface; to stir up the earth at the bottom. So is Christian experience. A shallow experience Is easily disturbed; the merest trifles '.becloud and darken the soul whose piety is .superficial; while the most furious storm of life fails to darken or disturb the soul which has attained a deep experience in im.things of God." First evangelise the young men. ami (lit'ti make them an evangelizing force, for if these nations are going lo be evangelized it i*> going to be by the sons and daughters of the .soil. See that I his present generation does not perish from (lie earth without the young men knowing that Jesus Christ died and rose again, and that lie is a living Christ.-Joliu U. Mott, i P THE SUNDAY SCHOOL . INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR MARCH 25. Temperance Lesson. Frov. zzili.f 29 35? Golden T?xt, iWr, xxiii., 32?Memory Verso, 31?Topic: Drink's Chamber of Horrors. I. Strong drink destroys happiness (vs. 29, 30.). 29. "Who." A divine commission to every man to investigate the prevailing cause of woe and sorrow and strife, and thus be deterred from taking the wrong course in life. Robinson call this lesson the drunkard's looking glass, set before those whose face is toward the drunkard's habits, so that they may see what they will be if they go on. "Woe." Direful distress; both the condemnation for a sin committed, and a certain awful condition of suffering. Sin of all kinds brings its own punishment, but there is no sin which so speedily and relentlessly pursues its victim as the sin of drunkenness. "Who hath sorrow." xne Jtieorew woru ineuus, uni, yuvcuj and then misery. The cup contains more than one woe; a single sorrow is not all. These are s<o numerous as to call forth a constant and Ions continued cry of anguish. "Who hath contentions." Nine-tenths of all the brawls and lights, quarrels and misunderstandings are raceable to drink. "Who hath babbling." This refers to the tendency of strong drink to foolish and incessant talking, revealing secrets, vile conver- t sation and noisy demonstrations, which are common in different stages of I drunkenness. Nothing goes right with li 1he drinker. He complains of God, of v society, of his family, of his circum- t stances, of everything. Nothing can o be right to one who is thus wrong, s "Wounds without cause." Wounds re- s ceived in wholly unprofitable disputes, a such as come of the brawls of drunken r men. Drinkers are especially exposed to accidents and diseases which tem- e perance would have prevented. "Red- t ness of eyes." Bloodshot, blurred or \ bleared eyes (Gen. 49:12). Alcohol in- c duces a paralysis of the Herves control- e ling the minute blood vessels, the ca- t pillarle?, -which results, in a dilation e that speedily shojvs itself in the eye. a 30. "They that tarry long." This c answers the above questions-. He who a begins to driiak continues to drink, tar- o rying often a whole night, and from that to day and night. "They that go." d To places or among people where in- g toxicating drinks are made or stored e or used. "Mixed wine." Spiced, C drugged, medicated wine. g II. Strong drink prohibited (vs. 31, S 32). 31. "Look not." This prohibits n even moderate drinking. It is our duty c to avoid temptation. See Prov. 4:14, " 15. The person who entei'9 into temp- o itation is almost certain to fall. "Ifced." u The bright color of the wine gives it t an attractive look. "His color In the o cup." Literally, its eye, the clear S brightness, or the beaded bubbles, on d which the wine drinker looks with p .pleasure. "Goeth down smoothly" (R. r V.) This verse pictures the attractive a - ' - " * 14.* ,i Bide ot wine, wueu it bvcjlus ycurvyj u harmless to sip a little, when It is t bright and inspiring, thrilling the I nerves with delight, promising all joy b and freedom. It is the shining side of o evil that is so dangerous?this flowery s entrance to the path that leads to ,v death. At such a time, beware! 32. "At the last It biteth." The pleasure u will be attended at last with intoler- t able pains, when it. works like so much e poison in thy veins and casts thee into a diseases as hard to cure as the biting " of a serpent "Adder." In the Geneva 1; Bible this word is translated "cocka- n trice." rt was a very venomous ser- n pent. But the picture cannot be over- A drawn. The cyrse of strong drink Is ,v worse than the bite of a thousand ser- ti pents. II III. Strong drink ruinous to charac- I< ter (v. 33). ti 33. "Eyes shall behold," etc.. "Thine g eyes shall behold strange things." R. n V. Some think there is a reference a here to the delirium tremens. But the b rendering in the Authorized Version, which is retained in the margin of the t] Revised Version', is, according to the p Cambridge Bible, "in keeping with the u usage of the word in the Book of Prov- o erbs, and with the undoubted connec- e tion between excess of wine and lust." & The "lust of the eyes" cause9vthe li downfall of many. We should hasten a to close our eyes to that -which we l< ought not to see. "Heart shall ntter." e When men or women Indulge in the v use of strong drink they let down the c bars to every sin that follows in the r; train. ? IV. Strong drink leads to folly (vs. n 34.35). e 34. "In the midst of the sea." To o make one's bed on the waves of the b sea would be to be swallowed up in c ?eath. So is the drunken man. Or as b a pilot who has gone to sleep when his ii ship was in the troughs of the sea, al- c towing the tiller to slip out of his hand, b and his ship to be swamped, with the a waves which he might have outridden, b aiupeneu, uesuueu uivu &uun uui u where they are or what they are doing, and when they lie down they are as if f] tossed by the rolling waves of the sea, p or upon the top of a mast. Their heads e: swim. Their sleep, is disquiet, and s troublesome dreams make sleep unre- s freshing.- "Top of a mast." The u drunliard is tttterly regardless of life. tl 35. "Have stricken?not hurt" (R. X V.) With conscience seared and selfrespect pone, the drunkard boasts of " the tb'ngs which should make him blush with shame. "Have beaten?felt it not." "Angry companions have done ? their worst to end my life, says he. but a their blows did not affect me." "Will e?e?a^nin." Rather, when I shall awake ? will seek it again. Self-con- r< <trol is all- gone., The drunkard is a * slave to appetite. He is as insensible P to the pleadings and warnings of those who seek his salvation as he is to the & heatings of his comrades when he V delirious. Eaj?le Attacks Engine Crew. An eagle measuring seven feet eleven inrhes from tip to tip flew into the .. cab of the Rocky Mountain Limited on J, the Rock Island road while the train . was going full speed, near Limon, Col. " It evidently had becomc bewildered ? by the smoke and noise. Striking the* ? engineer on the head with its beak, ~ it knocked the man unconscious on the ~r lioor of the cab. l'hpn it attacked the ?' fireman, burying its talons in his arm.! " The fireman heat it down with a shove! ami captured it. Blsr Chain In Heart of Old Tre?. In the heart of a large cherry tree taken from the farm of Bleichrer Brothers to an Egg Harbor City (N. J.) saw mill, was found a heavy iron rhain, two feet long, with links al- ei most half an inch thick. How the 9 chain came there is a mystery. JudgIng from the grain the tree, which measured thi'ee feet iu diameter, it P jras fully sixty years old. 0 - ? ' h Umbrella 120 Tear* Old. There has been discovered at Green- j! ock. England, an old-fashioned Tim- ' hrella with whalebone ribs, which i must be quite 120 years old. It affords shelter for a whole family. J ? ? . THOUGHTS v offlSf5TrityULB THE COMING GLORY, > '.' i Arise, arise, good Christian, Let right to wrong succeed; Let penitential sorrow To heavenly gladness lead; To the light that hath no evening,. That knows no moon nor sua The light so new and golden, "'h-' The light that is but one, t* And when the Sole-Begotten Shall render up once more The^ Kingdom to the Father Whose own it was before? Then glory yet unheard of Shalf shed abroad its ray, Resolving all enigmas? An endless Sabbath day. * ? * 4 ? Th| peace of all the faithful, 1 Tne c?lm of all the blest, Inviolate, unvaried, . ' d Divinest, sweetest, beat, Yes, peace! for war is needlessYes, calm! for storm is past? And goal from finished labor, Ana anchorage at laat. That peace?but who may claim it? '? Tihe guileless in their way, ^ Who keep the ranks of battle, Who mean, the thing they,say; The peace that is. fdr-JJeaven, Ana shall be, too, for e&'rth; The palace tHt re-echoes With;fe? flongatfd;mirth. ^ ?Bernard," of Cluny. The Utile Sins. Know ye that your gin shall oy?? ake you.?Numbers, xxxii., 23. Reputation is the key to manhood. '?/. t leadB us -to a regard for the fines Ife in this beautiful, elusive and ball eiled world. "A good name is better; ban precious ointment," and so mnchl > f the unction and kindness of social' r weetness is built upon the Annate de* ire to adjust self to r. harmonized relization of the rights of our fellow} oeo. No solitary act can purchase a good ' lame. The desire to be esteemed should , , ie built upon stainlessuess of thought, > I rord and action. The sum total is < haracter, which again is but a conforoation of righteousness. It is difficult o comprehend the philosophy of the aoral order unless it.be founded, upon righteous being, and fo^tfie' fundaaental conception of character lifts us Wove anarchy and a bo ve* the "breaking f the divine image in crur'souls. We are not automatons, but souls en* lowed with liberty of choice between' ood and evil. I v this depend? HI aoral growth and soul development] r ' Jood, therefore, in any form Is the oai or Humanity. But even.it tne , spirit of Goodness dwells in us, yet A aay we lessen His Influence and un-' onsciously degrade our characters. As dying flies spoil the sweetness of the, intment" without rendering it totally,} inflt, so little failings may weaken he delicacy of our better selves wit!*- ^ ut destrcying our permanent virtues.! inch heinous offenses as profanity, > runkenness, theft or lewdness are bo owerfnl to overwhelm us with a terifying sense of guilt When these sins!' re communicatci ;there con be no mis-J nderstanding of the consequences; ; he character is entirelyvbesmirched.; Jut when it is a question-of silght: lemishes or petty, defects of Christian }" To n h nr>r? ffia sanc?KHi'fv t nf ifha aatl. awAxuvrvi* Uit otuQiyunj VL ^UC VW cience does not always recognize .the round. | Like the termite that leaves the bark' ininjur'ed while it eats the heart of he tree, so ahe guilt of little sins be-! omes a gnoral disintegra! on. If moral! > narchy rioted in ouf ec-'ls we should 'i&i put on the'armor of light;" instant-! 7 and fight, but because It is only! aoral confusion that reigns we hava; 0 inclination rto set ourse'tes aright' md all this time our frailties are| Forking out their own punishment, forj t he moral system is inexorable. Sour [fe is no more stationary than phyfr-J :al life. Every thought, word or acIon makes for our vplifting or de-j rading; the processes go on and boj eutrality is possible. The saddest of: f 11 leaths is the death of a soul in ?j ody still strong and vigcrous. ' ! ^ The mistake made is in thinking that bis life la one of fulfillment, that alii rocess depends on our .cagacity, that: * ltimace achievement depends on our! wn exer'ious, that 4Le competition of] nergies compensates for the easy de-j cent from lofty standards. But thi^ fe is not complete; we are simply in] state of preparation. Lif? Is a ,ser-; ;s of purifying processes, it is the; xpanaion of soul culture based on dl-, ine ideals. Hence in the present proess of development our burden of ighteousness 6houId be borne, the orrows of abnegation endured, if w? t rould come into final possession of| ' ternal bliss. God never intended 'that . ur journey toward immortality should e a negative quantity?we should not, ? umber the ground if we are not fruit earer^. Let us then robe ourselves' . 1 the exalted attributes of divine,' haracter; let conscience, untroubled y little sins, be aroused through1 bounding grace to stand confessed , lameless, harmless and without reuke. * ' K; ix>ve L stronger, sater ana saner ban law, because in it-there is no comromise. Let lovtf*overshadow our ey-. ry thought, word and action; let our in be excess of divine love, and we j hall then have no fear if it overtakes \ . s.?Rev. John J. Donlan. Church of V le Nativity, Brooklyn, in the New ' ork Sunday L?rald. / ?? Tbinte of If. . W Did you ever think, my brother, my, [ster, that if it were not for mission-.' B ry work you would be serviDg idols, H )-day? Suppose that Paul and those EH ho labored with hitn had been di ?cted to go east in place or west. m low shocked you are when, in some H icture, you tee a mother throwing her, bild into the Ganges! It might have, een you, my sister. Have you no pity )r the fellow-beings that are dying at \ le rate of 100,000 a dayV ? W. K, S Uackstone. The Upward Calling of God. God never calls you frofei larger lings to smaller. God never calls yon v rom up, down. God never calls you lto shrunken conditions. God calls. ou for your welfare, your enlarge-; lent, your power, your benediction. (od is always calling up. up, up to; [is children. Blessed be the man that; uswers when the call upward and out- ; ard comes, "Here am I; seud me."? .. F. Schauffler. Too many think that they lest their j-< lith by testifying about it. Eggs Hatch In Her Head. The eggs of a poisonous insect?pos- ' ibly a spider, which stung her last ctober, were deposited tinder Mrs. ^uuigunda Vogel's scalp, and hatched OUyv dnffnrn/l h H-Cfnl I* Itrtr. our uno auucivu I.i.u U[,..v?-o ains ever since she was stung; but illy after three months of this torture ave the doctors, at her home in Al3011a, Pa., by cutting into the swell* ig, discovered the cause, live, wormke insects. These have been removed nd Mrs. Vogel is recovering. . . The Japanese Government is printing a oniplete record of the v,ar. ' v ' ' ... ' '