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eo d as o w> e aa ? as e e? 9 a e g 9^ c? ocsaDe?BBa*?aaic Si THE CANO: ! I S I OR A TALE OF I %?OBS? 8 I By JAMES |?| ei eBHaeoaiaeeeeaBe aiiMtavaicntniot CHAPTER III. 3 Continued. The eulogium was correct in more than one sense, for Mr. Herbert Perry h^ been far from successful in his umversity examinations; but it was curious, considering the rudeness .with which the man' had been treated, he should have been eulogistic at all. Scarcely had he left the hall, and ere the attendant had closed the door against the driving rain, when a second young gentleman from the ballroom demanded his cap and gown, and, snatching them from the attendant's hand, followed on the other's Jbeels. "Well, he is in a hurry!" ejaculated the custodian. "Blest if he ain't gone and left his great coat behind him." "Why," yes," replied the porter, peering out into the storm; "and to see the way in which he is cutting after Mr. Perry yonder, one would think he was his lady love. They don't look much of a muchness neither, do they? I should say that second one never feathered an oar or doubled his fist in his life." "A mugger, that's what he is," said the other, contemptuously; "a mugger" (a comprehens-ive term understood to include all persons with an ambition for university distinction). Though Adair had pursued his rival (for such, it was clear, whether with good reason or not, he considered him to be) with such precipitancy, it was only to make sure that he did not escape him at the outset. Directly he caught sight of him striding rapidly in the direction, as he had anticipated, of Trumpington street, he slackened his pace, contenting himself with keeping him in view. He was wet through, but, though that was a somewhat novel experience lor one 01 nis inaoor naoits, it affected him not the least. The .wind blew "shrill, chill," in his face, and cut through his thin garments to the bone; but that too he was unconscious. The one thought in his mind was, "Will she come to meet him, and where?" That any assignation could have been made between these two seemed indeed most unlikely, or Perry would have not have been so disappointed (as he undoubtedly had been) at not seeing Miss Gilbert at the ball; but it was possible?for anything seemed possible to the young scholar's jealous soul? that they had some means of meeting whenever they pleased. If so, he was resolved to find it out. That, he had persuaded himself, was his sole motive; but if he could have examined his heart he could perhaps have found another. As to what should be the bearing of a young gentleman bound upon a clandestine interview with his beloved object there may be different opinions, but Mr. Herbert Perry's manner was certainly unlike anything one would have expected under , such- circumstances. At first he indulged in very bad language, snatches of which were borne upon the wind to the ears of his pursuer; whereas it is surely usual to husband one's oaths for the .presence of the young lady, and even then to use only those of fealty and devotion. Instead of cautiously keeping under the shadow of the houses, he took the middle of the pavement, and that with the 6wagger of a dragoon in spur. So far from lookinir like an evil-doer. his air gave the impression of one' who suffers under a vehement sense of wrongs and. who is resolved to take the remedy in his own hands. Even when the wind and rain had cooled him a little, and these symptoms of ! indignation disappeared, there was nothing in his behavior to suggest passion or secrecy. Once, indeed, he suddenly vanished from the eyes of his purruer, who himself kept far aloof and as much out of sight as possible, .in case the other should look behind him; but in a moment (or two heremerged from his concealment more conspicuous even than before; he hadtonly taken advantage of .a doorway to light up a huge cigar. Suddenly the moon came out and fihone .upon his face. The traces. of wine and oLanger had vanished from it, and a certain necessity for caution, Trhirh hp "nnrl unw hrcnn tn nvnpri ?nce, gave it an .expression of thoughtfulness. As his pursuer shrank .into the hedge to avoid the effulgence, his -.own keen face, full :" of intelligence, but also of stealth and hate, looked very poor beside it. It was the case of Hyperion to a satyr, and Adair felt the contrast. It was no wonder., he confessed to himself, between "his teeth, that the fancy of a foolish girl, ignorant of the higher mathematics, should have been taken by such a man. And there was no doubt that it had been so. As he Tiad all along suspected, his 4a 4 U ~ T 1 rival gums iu tut: ivctureis, wuere she would probabiy give bim a secret interview; it should not, however, if he could help It, be an unseen one. Perry had stopped, and if or the first time was looking suspiciously behind him. Thea he left the road, and passed through the gate that opened upon the gravel-sweep before the Jiouse. The moon was now obscured again, and Adair, emerging from the hedge, followed close upou his footsteps. Tn his haste and excitement the gate which the othtir had caption, was torn from his less pow-! erful fingers by the wind, and clanged behind him. He had but just time to throw himself upon the ground among the shrubs, when Perry, attracted by tfte noise, ran back to the spot. Had liefound hiro there would probably have been murder done, though not necessarily by the stronger man. Prone as he was <on the wet earth, Adair contrived to take out a well-sharpened knife, with which he had deftly mended many a pen in examinations, pud opeu it, We was not a maa to &S ... - ^ m !?6o&i$c?ces?aB?aB*aD* :2B99<18?53E3?GBSB9 |^8 N*S WARD HONEY BADNESS. " ? I *j ?n %U? == tflll i PAYN. HBMBOBBS O? g O 9 eonansaiiMoeBis* submit to chastisement, however well deserved. Tho other, however, after a brief examination, appeared to ascribe the matter to accident. He had not, it seemed, shut the gate, as he had intended to do, and cursing his own carelessness in not having done so, he passed on. CHAPTER IV. The Waiting-Maid. Perry glanced up at the windows; those of the sitting rooms were dark, but a light still glimmered in the top story. Ho moved rapidly to the back of the house, and took a similar observation of it; that side was dark. Perry uttered his usual exclamation of disappointment, a noun of three syllables, generally understood to be the copyright of divines. He was evidently puzzled what to do. After a moment's reflection, however, he mounted 'some iron steps that led from the garden to the drawing room balcony, and also to a door which gave egress to some smaller chamber, probably a lady's boudoir; and taking a half crown from his pocket, struck with it the brass around the keyhole twice. Amid the roaring of the wind, the blow was unheard without, but inside the house the noise was probably diBtinct enough, especially to ears that were accustomed to such a signal. There was a considerable de lay, during which Perry stood with one ear at the keyhole, and his foot on the step prepared for instant flight should the expected footsteps sound unfamiliar to him. Adair crouched down behind him, shadowed by a laurel bush, and watched his every motion as a cat of tender years watches a rat of dangerous dimensions. For a wonder, Perry showed no trace of impatience (which convinced the other that he had been used to wait under similar circumstances), and remained in that statuesque but somewhat strained position till his signal was answered. A bolt was quietly withdrawn, the door softly opened, and after a word or two?as it seemed by tbe tone?of objection on the part of the person within, the young man was admitted. When the door had opened to Mr. Perry's signal, it was at the touch of a -female hand indeed, but it was not Sophy's. This woman was much taller, had a somewhat coarse complexion, and wore a cap on her head of that description which is termed "fly-away," much affected *by lady's maids. She was good looking, but her eyes were rather too small for her face, and had a cunning look, which, in one of her position, suggested intrigue. On the present occasion, however, the expression of her face on catching sight of her midnight visitor, was one of mingled alarm and anger. She made, indeed (though this was doubtless but a feint) , as though she would have closed the half-opened <door in his face had he not thrust in his strong fingers and prevented it. "You must be mad, Mr. Perry, to come here at such an hour as this," she exclaimed, indignantly. "Why did not your mistress come to the ball?" he inquired sternly and without talrtng the least notice of her inrHcnatlnn. "And what is that to you, sir? I mean," she added, alarmed by the heavy frown that gathered on his brow, "what was there in her not going that can excuse your coming here? You have no right "I have a right," he interrupted, with grim distinctness. "Let me in." And ignoring the resistence of her well knit and far from 'delicate arm as though it were a cobweb, he pushed his way in and closed the door behind him. "And now, Mis Jeannette Perkins, where is your mistress?" "Where everybody but a poor lady's maid is, or ought to be at this time o' night?asleep in her bed." "She is not a very early bird in general," observed the young man incredulously, and "especially on ball nights. Why didn't sne go 10 tne ball?" "That is the second time you have asked that question, Mr. Perry, though there's no one so fit to answer it as yourself. How could she go -after what happened this evening?" "I did not hear of anything having happened," returned the young man sullenly. "Ah, then, I did! What I heard was .that while my mistress was sitting at a window of the canon's rooms and the procession was passing, a young gentleman as ought to have known better Btood up in a boat and drank her health out of a guar.t -pot." "T nr? " rpmnrlrprt Mr Perry, indignantly. "Maybe because you couldn't," was the sharp rejoinder. "Indeed, nobody ?who was in his right senses could possibly have put such a disgrace upon a young lady." "I didn't mean to do anything ol that kind, of course," said the other, exchanging his injured tone for one of apology. "1 suppose you thought it was paying her a compliment. Her friends, however, did not think 30, at all events; and they took care that she should run no risk of another such being paid her the same evening. And that's why any poor dear young lady was not at the bal.I this evening." "She could have gone if she chose, for all that, I'll bet a shilling," returned the young fellow sulkily. "Then to come here at this time Of night, in your sober senses, with a reckless disregard of all consequences to my dear young mistress, is most yile and abominable." "I wanted to know why she was not at the bsi.l." "Well now you do know?go." Aud jennnette?though the name given to her at the baptismal fg font had in fact been Susan, which 'H suited better perhaps with her pat- H ronymic, Perkins pointed to the door with a dramatic gesture worthy | of a French melodrama. Her vigori ous onslaught had been too much for | Mr. Perry; men of his class can seldom stand against a woman's right eous indignation, unless she happens to be his wife. He had come to the y< Laurels under a vague sense of ill- ol treatment, he was indignant at hi Sophy's absence from the ball, and ir wanted to know the "reason why," tt partly, perhaps, because he suspected ol the reason; he knew that he had tl earned her reproaches by drinking tt | her health on the river, and, there- w 1 fore, wished to establish a grievance k< on his own account But Jeannette tl had routed him. He took up his bat- c< tered college cap, and muttering a u grudging apology about "not knowing it was quite so late," and an ungracious hope that the young lady's head would not be so bad but that she could be seen the next day, he passed oi out into the night. With a swift hand Jeannette locked tc the door behind him, and stood lis!' tening for his heavy step upon the tl iron stairs. i "Thank Heaven, that's over!" she ti exclaimed, with a great sigh of relief. , "Drat the man, I wish he was g-, i drowned!" -ei The aspiratiofa ^as a pretty strong one, but there was little doubt of its 01 genuineness. Her eyes had still the w fire of indignation 1r them, her cheeks were still flushed with it; her a] bosom still palpitated with it quite as is much as with her late passionate elo- bi quence. "How Miss Sophy can stand it," she went on, "amazes me. It would wear me to smn ana Done, un, Jemimaram, if he hasn't come back , again!" ^ The interjection was caused by the qi same tapping on the door lock with- 01 , out, that had already summoned m , Jeannette from her duties about her 01 young mistress. She had little doubt that she had heard aright, but she 01 , was very willing to believe herself deceived. The wind was still roar- ^ ing and raging, and it was just possible that what she had just heard 01 was but the swinging of the iron gate Si of the balcony. Surely, surely., *fter 01 that piece of her mind had been given ^ i him, not apparently, with such ex- ^ , cellent effect, .Mr. Herbert Perry w i could not desire admittance a -second Ci [ time. Yet, as she listened with pain- ^ t ful intentness, with her ear at the w keyhole, there came again the well; known summons. "It is him, drat him!" she murmured; and -with the ol i same precautions as before, but ren- b( dered more difficult by the angry 111 trembling of her limbs, she -opened the door a little space, when, without making it any wider, to her horror 111 and amazement there slipped in, like a serpent, the attenuated .frame of Mr. John Adair. To he Continued. si dj "What She Remembered. m Husband?"Many people*:at church sc this forenoon, dear?" fc Wife?"Yes, a large number.'* in "Good sermon?" li "Delightful." b< "What was the text?" ai "It was?it was?well", really, I ir have forgotten." b< "Humph! W^ Mrs. Purling tl there?" * ?1 "She was." fr "What had she on?" ti "Well, she had on a fall wrap of us very dark Pompeiian red cloth, with tc narrow insertions of black velvet in bl the sides of the skirt. A small yoke 6i trimming of the vflvet covered the al upper par{ of the chest, and was out- ti lined with mixed tinsel braid. A nar- b] row braiding girdled the waist, and tc the cuffs were ornamented in the ti sam'e way. It had a cape attachment ol pleated upon the shoulders, and at- T tached by other pleats at the waist b] line, giving a dolman appearance to oi the back. She " ol "That'll do. I don't wonder that a: you forgot the text!"?Daily Pica- n: yune. tt h The Cement Age. S? a: A man has invented a cement shin- w gle. It is a metal shingle covered t? with cement, and is really a tile as C] lasting as stone. As cement becomes w more known, and it is learned that e, every man can make his own cement, there will be a boom in cement building. The great cost of building has been the increased cost for material and the high price of skilled labor. With cement there need be only one skilled man and plenty of common labor, even in building houses. The price of cement is quite high HOW, UUi lutiie sue vast du^ijucs ?uu no possible monopoly. Cheap machines for making the blocks and' plenty of sand and a little knowledge is the foundation, and the price out- 0J side the cities will be cheaper. We C] are beginning the cement age, and c, concrete houses will #be the houses of the future. Building lumber of Sl good quality is almost impossible and brick and stone are out of reach, so cement is the reliance.?Birmingham Ledger. fc Generating Electricity at Pit's Mouth. Of recent years a good deal has t( been said about generating electricity g( at thn nit's month. and transmitting: it to various industrial centres. But v, ; it would be considerably cheaper to manufacture producer gas at the pit's mouth and transmit it through pipes to the industrial centres, there to use 01 It for driving gas engines for generat1 ing electricity and also for heating u purposes and furnace work. The 1:0 question of the distribution and trans- 01 mission of power must not be con- ai I fused. For the former it is agreed p< i that there is no agent to compare ai with electricity. For the latter pur- *? pose it is suggested that it is more economical to employ producer gas fc and piping than electricity and cables, ci { ?Scientific American. la He Lost Nothing. fi< ""Harry's-mother had given him an apple and told him to peel it before cl . he ate it. Returning to the room w ; afte ra few moments' absence, and seeing no peeling, she asked:. "Did you peel your apple, Harry?" ai "Yes," answered Harry. "What did you do with the peel- a ings?" she asked. 6P "Ate them.'".?Harper's Weekly. 01 - ~'9 * household : ^ patters Device to Cool a Sick Room. T would like to suggest through 3ur paper to the thousands who are 3liged to remain in town during the at weather?especially to those carig for the sick?my plan for cooling le sick room. I place a pad made E a folded piece of old blanket, on ie stone ledge of the window (which ?e sun keeps very hot), and keep it et all day. The rapid evaporation eeps the stone perfectly cold, and ie air passing over it is perceptibly joled, and gives much relief to the ivalid.?A Nurse. Facts About Eggs. A good egg will sink in water. Stale eggs are glassy and smooth E shell. A fresh egg has a lime-like surface ) its shell. The boiled eggs which adhere to ie shell are freshly laid. Eggs packed in bran for a long me smell and taste nasty. Thin shells are caused by a lack of ravel, etc., among the hens laying ?gs. After an egg has been laid a day r more. the shell comes off easily hen boiled. If an egg is clean and golden in ppearance when held to the light it good; if too dark or spotted, it is id. Western New York Washing Fluid." A friend, giving no name, sends le following in answer to E. F. M.'s uery in regard to washing greasy /eralls: "Take one pound of comion washing soda (sal soda) and ae-half pound of fresh, unslacked me (slacked lime will not do); pour rer it five gallons of water. Set on ie stove and stir until thoroughly issolved; set off and let settle, and Dttle the clear solution; or use jars p jugs, labeling and corking, and it out of the reach of children or ireless persons. This is a splendid e, and will remove dirt or grease, se one scant teacupful to a boiler of ater; bring to a boil with half a ike of laundry soap cut up in it. he greasy clothes must first be rung out of water in which th^y ave been put to soak for a short me, then washed in this boilerful : water- This solution is a great lair saver, and will make washing alost a pleasure." If this could be used with a washig machine, much time and strength jght be saved.?The Commoner. To Remedy Damp Walls. The following simple process is tid to effectually do away with all impness of walls. Applications are ade alternately of dissolved castile )ap and dissolved alum. Threernrths of a pound of soap is melted i one gallon of boiling water. The quid thus obtained is thoroughly ?aten to cause a' stiff froth. This ad the water are then completely icorQorated by stirring and made Diling hot. The time for preparing te wall should be after a long dry jell, and as the wall must be as free om moisture as possible this condion can be assisted by the judicious 5e of fires. Then brush the surface t be covered until as clean as possile. With a wide flat brush coat the lrface with the boiling soap prepar:ion, working it back and forth un1 the wall is covered with small bub- j les. Let it remain twenty-four hours ? dry out, then apply an alum solu- | on made by dissolving half a pound l alum in four gallons of water, he alum coating may be nearly at lood heat. This should stand a day 1 two to dry and harden; then an:her application of soap, the same i 3 tne nrst, must oe put on. now ;any coats are needed depends on le condition of the wall; sometimes alf a- dozen would he necessary, tys Woman's Life. The soap and lum form a coating insoluble in ater, and this unites with the ma>rial in the wall, filling all of the evices and making a thoroughly aterproof surface.?KTew York Teljram. , 7S*?-\ uaiiueai iviuuiub?uue i;up luuacu itmeal, one-half teaspoonful salt., ae and one-half cups flour, one-half lp milk, three teaspoonfuls baking owder, one egg, two tablespoonfuls jgar and one tablespoonful melted utter. Grandmothers' Seed Cakes?Use alf a cupful of butter, two of sugar, >ur tablespoonfuls of milk, two tablejoonfuls of caraway seeds, and bout two cupfuls of flour or enough > roll out, adding to every cupful ol our a scant teaspoonful of baking Dwder. Flavor with either lemon or inilla. Meat Croquettes?One and onealf cups of cold meat chopped fine, ae-half cup of minced fresh celery, vo hard cooked eggs chopped fine, vo tablespoons of gravy. Mix all igether, bind with half a cup, or less, ' rukifA f?o??r.A L lUll^A UltC oauv.^ luauv nil" liJWiij ; ad season to taste with salt and spper. Make into croquettes, egg ad crumb them, and fry in hot, deep it. Corn Slappers?On the night be- | ire needed pat one and one-half lpfuls cf cornmeal, half a teaspoonil of salt and two tablespoonfuls of rd into a bowl, turning over it suf:ient boiling water to make a stiff itter. Stir thoroughly and cover osely. In the morning add three ell beaten eggs, half a cupful of )ur with which a heaping teaspoonil of baking powder has been sifted, id sufficient sweet milk to make a iek batter. Drop by spoonfuls onto hot greased skillet, shape with the oob, cook slowly, and browo well i both sid?s,??Pllfrrira THE GREAT DESTROYER 1 SOME STARTLING FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OP INTEMPERANCE. 1 "The Horse is Not Clean Escaped That Drags the Halter"?Mod- g erate Drinking the Chain That Binds Strong Liquor's Victims. Somewhere, quite a number of years ago, when a good deal younger than now, the writer heard the expression at the head of this article, and it made a deep and lasting impression upon his mind. There is a world of meaning in that short sentence, "That horse is not clean escaped that drags the halter." Picture to the mind a grand, noble horse; he has. been tied up for days and weeks in his stall and is ready for a run. By some means his halter becomes loosened from where it is tied, he finds himself loose, the door of his stable is open and out he bounds, and up and down, all over the field, he races. How free he feels himself, and how he scorns the puny efforts of his master to catch him. He realizes his strength and his speed. How weak and slow is human strength and motion compared to his! Is he to be caught and confined again? Not much! If he could speak, how he would.boast of his freedom and of his strength and agility to keep forever free. But he drags a halter. That halter will eventually lead to his capture. Either the owner will steal up gently when he iB off his watch and grasp the dragging end, or it may get tangled around his legs and fetter him. Could that halter have been left In the manger; could he contrive to slip it off Entirely, then he would be indeed free; but, poor fellow, he drags that which, sooner or later, leads to bis capture. So, true It is, "That horse is not clean escaped that drags the halter." Now, what is there in this simple btxt true picture from life for us all to learn? Simply this: There is no middle ground be- g tween bad habits and absolute free- i dom and safety. Yet how many peo- g pie think they are perfectly safe to ( take a drink once in a while. They 6 know that (irink can never catch and t conquer them. They know when to ^ stop and how much they can stand. r They can quit at any time. This con- r fidence, this once in a while, is the B dragging halter that by and by will B lead to capture. Changing the words, j that man is not clean escaped froiq B the powers and chains of strong drink t that drags the halter pf moderate j drinking. Two young men stood on s the sidewalk and saw a. man in mid- ( die life go staggering past. They r looked at him for a moment and then c at each other, when one remarked, fc "What a fool that man is to make d such a beast of himself; he ought to t know enough to stop when- he has r enough!" A few minutes afterward t I saw those two young men go past a me In the hotel and go to the bar t and drink. Oh yes, they know when c to stop. My observation is that no v man is so positive that he knows where to stop and that he will do so s before he gets full, as the man that o has two or three glasses in him ai- y ready. Before he takes any he is * very doubtful whether he dare take c one glass; by the time he has two c he begins to feel strong and knows o he can take another and not show it; 11 can stop there; but, when, three are 3 down he is stronger yet, he can drink t: three or four times and stop right I there, but he doesn't do it. The s dragging halter captures him. No, s brothers, slip the halter entirely over v the head; leave it, drag it no more, c and then you are free; you can't get s caught. How many bright young t men I have seen dragging this halter! t. Talk with them and they flush up at ? once: "What! You think I will ever let liquor get the best of me? & No. never: I can' stOD anv time." H Why didn't they? That halter caught t] them; they got tangled up in it.? r Home Herald. e v Whisky Demoralizing. c "I have defended forty-one men # and women for murder in my life, t and nineteen out of twenty of the crimes were caused by whisky; I have defended lots of other criminal cases in my life, and. I am safe in saying 3 that nineteen out of twenty of them were caused by liquor. Whisky is the d most demoralizing thing in the world. ? Men do not usually drink it to get ? into a condition to rob and kill, but ? .when they get it in them they are ? ready for any sort of deviltry that ? comes to hand." This is the declara- ' tion of Colonel I. W. Boulware, the , eminent jurist, in Fulton (Mo.) Ga- r zette. Liquor Not Necessary. jj Lord Charles Beesford is a stanch ; teetotaler. "I am now sixty years b old," P.* said recently, "and since I t have entirely given up wine, spirits t and beer I find I can do as much t work, physically and mentally, as I t could do when I was thirty, if not t more. I am always well, always c cheery, laugh at the downs of life t equally with the ups, and always feel i fit and in condition. If only some of b the young men would try going with- f out liquor for three months I do not y believe they would think liquor at all t necessary again." t a The High Dive Cure. ^ In Revere, Minn., they take drunk- a ards and give them what is locally t called the "high dive cure" by duck- f ing them in a large tank of water sit- r uated in a convenient location in ^ town. A couple of dips is all that has E been required in any case yet, and p one chronic offender from Walnut y Grove who was immersed one even- s fng has never shown up in Revere c Bince.?St. Paul Dispatch. E A SJgnincant -v tieraucc. Sir William Gull, M. D., is credited with the following significant utter- *3^ ance: "A very large number of peopie in society are dying day by day, jc poisoned by alcoholic drinks, without ^ knowing it, without being supposed ^ to be poisoned by them. I hardly ;o know any more powerful source of jf disease than alcoholic drinks. I do ?e not think it is known, but I know al- p? cohol to be a most destructive )v poison." Je j~3i Crime Follows Open Saloons. I le The reign of crime in San Fran- j ^ I the* oolnAnc uforo ronnonod I ^^ I tlOLU OlUVt Hit ??**WVfc?W TT V? V ? I is almost unparalelled. The city is 5r well nigh as wicked and lawless as in .the vigilance committee days. The ruined city is at the mercy of thugs, and the government is in almost open sympathy with them. j ^ An Invitation. to Consumption. ti< The excessive drinker of spirits, bi whose breath gives evidence of alco- Di noi tnrown on, is permanenuy mjur- '? 1ng ijte Juugs and invitiDg consumpr tion. ,1( !o V - : . ' V ' '* " i' .*? " . ' '* '.* . ' " '* ' ; HE SUNDAY SCHOOL. INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR APRIL 14, BY THE REV. I. XV. HENDERSON. object: God Gives Jacob a Sew Name, Gen. 32:9-12, 22-30? Golden Text: Luke 10:20?Memory Verses, 26-28. The picture of Jacob at the .Tabbok \ s the picture of a man in distress, i'irst he is distressed in mind because ' ?f tS* fear that is in his heart that J lis brother Esau, whom he so griev- 1 usly cheated, will wreak a vengeance 3 ipon him that Jacob evidently recog- J lizes to be founded on good and sufIcient cause. Jacob has escaned rom the household and the control if Laban, a wealthy and self-sufficient ] nan. He desires to enter into the and that God had promised to him. < Jut the sin of years ago coming into " lis immediate thought Alls him with 1 error lest Esau should despoil and lumiliate and perhaps slay him. Secmdly, Jacob is in distressbecause God lets His power against him to hum>le him. , In the midst of his worry over the >ossibility of defeat by Esau Jacob jrostrates himself before God. He j >ours out his soul in agony, calling , ipon God as the giver of the might- , est promise of his life to protect him rom Esau, the brother whom he had ;o wronged. There is no mistaking he terror of his mind. Jacob is abect. "I am not worthy of the least if Thy mercies," he says. That is ! he confession of his' unworthiness ind of his dire need. Hna thine that in n/rHponhle in thin hat God answers this prayer of Jacob n a different manner than Jacob evilently expected. Jacob wished to be [ellvered from his brother. That was he burden and the motive of his )rayer. He doesn't make an open j >reast of his own conception of his >wn perfidy toward his brother to, | rehovah. He doesn't ask God's forgiveness because of the sin against i tis brother. Hs simply desires to be ? aved from his brother's wrath. But }od answers the prayer of this de- i pairing man with distress. He sees hat Jacob has no real conception of . < he enormity of sin, that he has no ] ealizing sense of his utter helpless- : tess. He sees that Jacob's terror is < imply momentary, that if Esau had lot been reported ahead there would lave been no prayer. God undertands that if Esau can be propiiated by gifts Jacob will lay his deiverance in some measure to the hrewdness for which he is famous. Jod perceives that the one thing tecessary above all others in the life if Jacob is proof of his helplessness, Lis actual inefficiency, of his ultimate lependence on God. And so alone in he darkness of the middle of the light until the dawn of day Jacob is ested and tried of God. He emerges . different man, with a new name and he divine blessing. But only after a Light of trial and of earnest endeavor . rith God. This lesson teaches us many lesons. It teaches us first that the rec- | llection of sin remains after many > ears to rise^ up and overwhelm us | rith fear. It teaches us also that we an have no respite until we have onfessed to God our own abhorrence ' f our own wickedness. . It teaches s in the third place that we must ask rod for strength from some other mo- . Ive save fear of the consequences, t tells us that shrewdness and selfufficiency and talent cannot avt.il to j ave us from sin. It impresses us rith the truth that a vision of God j an come only after earnest and inistent prayer. Finally it assures us hat the prayer and earnest desire of |; he sinner to be blessed will be ' ranted an answer by God Himself. Men need to be taught that sin . aunts the mind and heart long after f t is committed. There is nothing ' hat has greater longevity than the ; emembrance of a heinous sin. And ' veil as the memory of sin remains rith us, so equally is it true that we ] an have no respite from the awful-* ' ess of its memory until we have con essed it to God and humbly and conritely asked His pardon. And we ; lust ask for pardon from some other : lotive save that we fear the conse- 1 uences. The sinner who comes to ] he Almighty merely because he is cared is not likely to receive an en- 1 uring vision. A godly fear is a good 1 hing, but far better is it for us to oniess our sm ut:i;a.use wc <ue shamed of ourselves and recognize yr unfaithfulness to God. Jacob iras as shrewd a man as history reofds. He was sharp and tricky and alculating and cunning, but all his alent and self-sufficiency were not of ufficient value for him to tie to when ie considered his life to be at stake, ind if Jacob found his wits insuffiient to save him from the retribute if Esau how shall we in the mere J trengtJr of our shrewdness escape in < he day of reckoning with sin. Cer- 1 ainly that man is a fool who thinks < hat he can outwit the laws of God. 1 i.nd even as we cannot escape the 1 onsequences of sin and its penalties 1 iy our wits alone, so we cannot enter i nto a vision of Jehovah and of His i alvation ntil we "have striven with > iim for the blessing. This vision ve all need. This struggle must be 1 he portion of every man who desires < o escape rrom tne ions 01 sin. me c .dversary will not let us go lightly, t ;od will not bless us until we are 1 arnest in our desire and intention c nd determination to serve Him. But s o no earnest man has He ever reused a blessing. We may, if we will, i eceive, as Jacob, the benediction of < he Lord. Whatever may be cui t aeasure of iniquity and guiltiness tl? i "ather stands ready to bless if w< t /ill but turn to Him in earnest, in- ' istent petition. Each of us may re i eive a new name, each of us'maj t aeet God face to face at Penuel. Secret Stairway in Palace. Workmen engaged in renovating ] r\ Ort /?o 11 A/1 Ulnfflnaarc' Polopp at 4 o isu'^aucu 0 * ??? . Petersburg, Russia, constructed i ' Emperor Paul, discovered a secret ( >or and a stairway leading to a cell i the basement, where they found a i eleton chained to the wall. His- i ry does not offer any explanation * the presence of the skeleton in the < 11. This palace, in which Emperor j lul was assassinated, is a mysteri- i is building, containing a number of < cret passages, constructed by th: nperor. There is one leading unrground to the Fontanka Canal, lere, according to tradition, a boat c is kept in readiness for the Emper- h to escape to the fortress on the t posite bank of the Neva. g 0 P Ride in Washington Relic. p An nlrl nun? in which fteorze t il rastiington rode when his Revolu- a anary headquarters were at New- P irg, was shown on the streets of anbury, Conn., by Albert Rich, of idgefield. Scores of people sought e privilege of riding in it. The sigh has been kept as an heirloom c r generation. w _ . 1 ^SS^V' i' Tl\o^L HLtP5f cohered >r the, f, J!oyH'He^(| I The Law of the Word. . A vivid picture of the true Blb^H Is efven In the vision of fis^H del (2 end 3). The' prophet, d<SI scribing 1 call to his sacred offla^Bj 3peaks of a roll being sent x> hii^H :ontaining the words of the Lorq^fl \nd in four words there te set fort lot only the secret of Ezekiel's con? mission and power, but the cojniiilH^H ;ion and power for all the children <? 3od. The word was "sent" .to him^l| tie was bidden to *'find" It, to "eat^B It, and then to "speak" it to tifl| This is the eternal law of the Worfl| Df God. It cannot first be disco**ere?| It must be "sent" to us. The diffet^H ence between these two things marfc^E the difference between reason &n?^N revelation. It shows that man doeB not grope up to God's truth; he'fca^H to receive what a loving God sends t^H him; but he must receive it with eailB nestness and eagerness?he musIM "find" it. It must not lle, howeVei^H outside his life, to be admired* ofl even understood, It is to be eatenyw] that-is, assimilated with his naturi^H rhe iruth must not only.be possessed* It must possess it; must become oufl own. A man who finds and eats word sent to him can confident*^? "speak" it to his fellows. He is ni^H echo, he speaks with authority, ahS people recognize the true note.'.;:}-*, flj The aim of all Bible-teacbing ^^H reading should be.to fulfil this Ut^H of the Word.?London Christian. I Rest! How sweet tne sound! iM Is melody to my ears. It lies as viving cordial at my heart, and froi^H thence sends forth lively spirits whlcflBI beat through alL the pulses of sfl soul. Rest, not as the stone that res^BI on the earth, nor as thW flesh shafl rest in the grave, nor euctt a rest A the carnal world desires. MB O blessed rest! when we rest ndH day and-night, saying, "Holy, tohfl holy, Lord God Almighty," when 3ffall rest from sin, bat not frosH worship; from suffering ana sorrowM but not from joy! O blessed day when I shall rest with God; whto perfect soul and body shall togethesMB perfectly enjcy the most perfect <Jod^B when God is love itself, shall perfect? ly love me, and rest in this lore,t<S me, as I shall rest in my love to Hpn and rejoice over me with joy, and jojM over me with singing, as I shall reH joice in Him! H 1NO more, my boui, snail iooa ib? ment the sufferings of the eainte, <?M the church's ruins, nor numrn thjfl suffering friends, nor weep over thelifl dying beds or their graves. ThcnM shalt never sailer thy old temp&H tions from Satan, the world, or thsH 3wn flesh. Thy pains and slckneaiH ire all cured; thy body shall.no jurden the? with weakness and wear* ndss; thy aching head and heart, aunger and thirst, thy sleep and la-flH sor are all gone. O what a mightyH ih an ge is this! ?Baxter's Saint's ReetHfl T/iva liHiviofh Vrtf 1 "Love envieth not." Nobpdy en^S ries below himself; everybody envIeaM hose that are above lilm; therefore,* jnvying is covetousness or worse; ltH s the recognition of good fortune orfl )f attainment or of power or of some^S hlng else in those that are above, ind the man is angry at their good-H less because it rebukes his meanness? )r his littleness, v B But love, never. Ton cannot be-B ttow too mnch upon that which youW ove. A mother is sooner liable toH iestow too much upon the babe of berH josom than a true heart to envy the? rifts of those that are about him. What It they are better and more jopular than you? Thank God that ;here is some one better and more jopular than ypu. ' What If they ate wiser than you? ' Thank God that ;here is one more Btar in the flrmanent above yourself. What If they lave the commendation of men, whitei fou have the dry, bitter root to chew rhank God that somewhere there to tomebody that is not getting troubled is you are. There are tears enough and misfor:une enough, and there age burdens md cares laid on those that are. eminent quite enough to keep them down in their own estate. Lore never en.'ies anybody. And, judged by the - * -I~.l MIMai, ta ?'35t note, a grctll* uuai vi *vuyyu w spurious.?Henry Ward Beecher. Will You Get to Heaven Alone? . Christ came to minister, not to be ministered unto. The follower of Christ who is willing to enjoy his reigion all by himself has failed to :atch the significance of Christ's eximple. A Christian man's plain duty, s not so much to answer the ques:ion, "How can I get the most out of ny religion?" as "How can I conduct myself so that others may get the nost out of my religion?" '% Many Christians, in a very import lant sense, will go to heaven alone. ho thoro aiirrrmnrlpd. hv .ymcia YT 111 uv w MW*? V WM.VW. ^V| icores whom they have pointed to .he Saviour. The first class will have >een saved, but without having saved )thers. The second class will bring' .heaves with them. But Christ ministered daily while lpon the earth. So may we. Tho :omforts of our religion may be made; ;he solace of another's sorrow. In nany very practical ways others may, >njoy the benefits of our religion. Thus, whether it is for time or eterlity, Christ may come to other? hrough us.?Young Men's Era. The Christian. 'if Christianity is something definite. :t is the divinely reveailed religion hat comes to us through the personility, works and words of Jesus Christ, it is not what some nice and veil behaved people may happen to - -1 Ana iavocaie. 1U UC t- vui?vtau, vuv h nust fall in line with Jesus Christ, I iccepting Kim personally as the true B Saviour, and believing His doctrines is they come to us through the di? rine.'y inspired page;; of the Wo;:d of Trade of South Africa. B The returns of the South African. ustoms statistical bureau, which. I lave just been published, show that fl he imports in 1906 into Britishffl iouth Africa amounted to *156,946,-jM 00, while the exports for the samejH eriod were $212,910,000. The lm-H ores via Portuguese ports, which are W acluded in the above figures,? mounted to $20,683,000. The ex-H orts via Portuguese ports were onlftH 1,676,700. J Population of The nouulation of Pn^E^HHtt^l reased by about five is now near:HH|^HHH M