Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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E1S5?TS? THE CHAPTER X. S Continued. "Is It possible?" he replied. "But what then, did you expect?" she said, moving away and seating herself composedly in one of the shel tered deck chairs. "Why, I expected a child, a little school girl; but I cannot say that I regret it," said Arthur, quietly. "I must confess to some misgiving as to her behavior, and the extent of my responsibilities." "But on what grounds did you ex pect a small child?" "Your?your father's letter, and also the way he repeatedly spoke of you. He always alluded to you as his little girl, his little child. I now see that it may only have been a term of endearment." "Do you know my father, Mon sieur?" "Yes," answered Arthur. "I met him at my uncle's, Mr. Denstone's, home." "Mr. Denstone is, then, your un cle?" exclaimed Antoinette. "Indeed, we have, then, both of us, explana tions to receive. I am glad you were not the only one to be deceived. You, for instance, in no way resemble the individual I was led to expect. My governess told me that I was to be escorted by one of Mr. Denstone's clerks." "What did you expect then?" said ATthur, laughing a little. "It is quite true that I am one of my uncle's clerks; or, rather, I am to be one." ' ""Of course, my governess under stood that it would be?in shqrt, somebody very unlike you. Now tn&t I see the mistake, I must ask you to forgive me for the peremptory char acter of my letter. It was meant for the solemn old clerk, in a snuff-col ored suit wiih blue spectacles, of my imagination. Tell me," said she, sud denly, "how did you think my father was looking? I have not seen him for such a long time?such a very, very long time." "I can be no judge of his looks," answered Arthur, "for I never saw him before. He does not look ill, but he is nervous somehow. I think he wants somebody to take care of him." "I thought so," she said quickly. *If he will let me, I will do*my very best to make him happy; but I have no knowledge of home life. I spent all my holidays at school; that is not a good preparation," she added, wist fully. "I don't think any preparation.will be necessary, Mademoiselle Rigaud. You will find a father who Is old, lonely and in need of you. Your in stincts will be all-sufficient." "Thank you," she said, simply. Arthur felt deeply interested in his companion. There was something touching, even pathetic in the sound of her vcice, which was lower and fuller than most girls' voices are. He could not see what she was like by the fitful harDor ngnts, even naa sne taken off her veil; but he fancied that her appearance must be as in teresting as her voice. But it was 'growing late, the sea air was becom ing bitterly cold, the motion of the steamer increasing every moment as she danced and bounded, light sheets of spray began to scud over the deck. "Are you a good sailor?" said Ar thur. "Oh, yes. I do not mind the toss ing," she answered. "But all the came, I think I should like to go down stairs. I am not very brave. I would rather not see it. Will you take me?" She held his arm with both her hands, and, indeed, was clinging to him with all her might before he suc ceeded in landing her safely in the cabin. i. "I had no idea that it would be so difficult to move," she said, laughing ia little. "And now, thank you, good night, sleep well." Arinur was up ana on aecu u> sunrise the next morning; but early as it was. he found his charge already there. The sea had calmed down, and they were now running fast with the tide, and only plunging very slightly from time to time. Mademoiselle Rigaud was standing at the head of the cabin stairs when he came on deck, leaning agaiust the doorway. Arthur offered her his hand to help her to gain one of the deck-seats; she was evidently afraid of venturing alone, though she laughed at her own fears when she found how much easier it was to walk than it had been the night before. Antoinette naa tiea a iarge oiacK Shetland shawl round her head and over her shoulders. "I must preserve my hat from the spray," she said. "Salt water is very destructive, and if this hat were spoilt it would be long before I should be able to replace it." "Indeed," said Arthur, who was amused at her naivete, and thought it the most charming thing he had ever encountered in his life. "But I as sure you you need not concern your self about it, your father is very rich." "You are mistaken," she said, cold ly, "Quite mistaken; on the con trary, we are very poor." Arthur remembered Monsieur Ri gaud's strange confidences. "But," he began hastily?then checked himself. If her father chose jto conceal the fact of his great wealth ifrom his daughter, it was scarcely right to thwart his plans, but he felt exceedingly impatitnt of them. He proposed that they should walk up and down the deck awhile, and she consented with delight. "I think you are altogether mis taken," she continued. "If you ex pect to find a carriage and horses to meet me, and a good house and gar dens, and plenty of servants, you will astonished." [BsasHi $ 9 25ES SCENT; h divining if rod: kARET sa MAJENDIE. "I only caro that you should find [ enough for comfort," said Arthur. "To that at least you are certainly j entitled." "That we will not discuss," an- 1 swered Antoinette. "I am quite sat- ' isfled that my father's mode of life is the only prudent one. It is not ' new to me," she went on, smiling. "I was five years old when I left home. I can remember a big old house, with 1 wings. I remember quantities of 1 cocks and hens, ana an oici woman feeding them, whom I called Nanon, 1 and who frightened me by her sobs . and weeping when I went away. She was my nurse, and I shall find her there still, I hear. She and her hus band are most faithful servants.'* "Are any of your mother's family living?" asked Arthur, feeling strangely uneasy at the idea of this delicate, gentle girl going into the hands of such a selfish old miser, and totally without needful protection. He felt that in her sweet, absolute faith in her father she would starve j herself, and deprive herself of every needful comfort, and even necessity, to spare him. He felt thankful that he should be close by, at all events, for some weeks, but he would be greatly relieved could he hear of any other relative at hand. "I have no relatives," said An toinette, rather sadly. "My mother's name was Aymar?Jacqueline Ay mar. She was the daughter of a doc tor who lived at Goucy. My grand father died shortly after her mar riage. He had a son, Joseph Aymar. He married, and they both died in an epidemic of cholera when I was a little child; so no one of the name 1 is left, and no one of the blood, ex cepting myself." Arthur was looking at her, and as she spoke of her mother's family he 1 saw a strange change pass over her face, a kind of hardq^ss which seemed to petrify the soft flesh and blood, and a peculiar magnetic dreamy stare of the great gray eyes as they looked out to sea, almost as : if she was entering a trance. The look startled him. "Antoin ette!" he exclaimed, abruptly, un conscious that he had used her Chris tian name. She started and turned round, the look vanished at once, a sort pinit color rose in her cheek. "What is it?" she said, gently. "Nothing. Forgive me; you looked so strange, so dream-like, as if, somehow, your mind were passing 1 out of my reach, and I wanted it to . come back," he said, trying to smile. "Ah! yes; I understand. It is like that when I think of my mother's people. They have a strange history. 1 Some day I will tell you,( but not ' now," she added, a slight shudder passing over her. "The sun is grow ing warm, and yonder, in the dis- J tance, I fancy I can see the coast of ; France. Is it not so?" "Yes; we shall soon be arriving. J Are you glad to revisit your native ; land, Mademoiselle Rigaud?" "Yes. for some reasons very glad. 1 *"? ? x. T ?v> oa lnn<y ' 13 UL I Ilcl V t; UCCli 111 uugiauu ou that I have almost forgotten to look upon France as my home." CHAPTER XI. , The travelers reached St. Maalo without adventure of any kind, drove , to the station, and found a train i which took them to Lekaus, where they arrived late in the evening. They I slept there, and started the next day for Goucy. 1 It was a cold day. The sun had , not appeared; there was a sharp ; spring frost and a bitter east wind, i The third-class carriage into which Antionette got, without a moment's ; hesitation, was exceedingly comfort- j less, but Antoinette said not a word ] of complaint. j As they went on,' it struck Arthur that there was something odd, even unnatural, about this. A young and delicately brought up girl is not gen erally so callous unless she is ab- | sorbed by some thought that over rides all other questions, physical or , mental; or else is of such a robust i physique as to be independent of small miseries. He looked earnestly i at his companion; the latter certain- j ly was not the case, it must then be ( the former. Arthur fancied that in her attitude, l in the fast clasp of her little hands in . her lap, there were signs of suffering. ; He was sympathetic by nature, but toward this lonely, lovely girl his , sympathy welled up so irresistibly, . that even at the risk of offending : her he felt that he must ask her what caused her depression. < "Surely, dear Mademoiselle," he said, gently, "you must have some- 1 thing on your mind, or," he added. smiling, "I liardly think you would ; be so indifferent tothe draught that is , passing down the backs of our necks, or to the incessantly rattling door, or the clouds of infamous tobacco and fumes of absinthe which our late fel- , low-travelers have left behind them." , She gave a slight start. "I am , very sorry that you are uncomforta ble," she said. "Please do not stay ; with me. Doubtless your means would enable you to travel in a very ; different way. I am most selfish to ! allow it. At the very next station then " "Not for worlds!" cried Arthur. "It was only for your sake that I tVnimrht nf rnmnlaininp Plpasp for give me. I cannot help fearing that something of a sad nature is absorb ing your thoughts. Perhaps I ought : not to say so; it is presumptuous of me." i "No," said Antoinette. "You are very good. Yes. you are quite right. Something is occupying my thoughts very greatly and most painfully, but I do not know that I can tell it to you; ycu would perhaps laugh at ; me." J: "Laugh at you? Good Heavens? What do you take me for?" he ex claimed, hurt. "Have I said or done anything to make you think that I could be so unkind, so unfeeling, and especially toward you, for whom, since the first moment I received you into my charge, I have felt the deepest in terest, the utmost He stopped himself, or he might have said too much; but his eager face and earnest manner touched her. "Then you will not think me very foolish?" "Try me," he said. She looked at him doubtfully for one moment. Then she said: "Mr. Denstone, I have known you a very short time, indeed, but I am singu larly friendless, and you have been go good to me, it makes me venture Dn more, perhaps, than I ought." "Anything in the world that I have, or that I can do, is at your service," he said, quickly. "Thank you," she answered, a smile of rare beauty lighting up her sweet face. "Then I will tell you the Btrange, terrible secret that over Bhadows me not only with its own weight, but with the most dire fore bodings." She paused a moment as if to shake off some feeling of op pression, drew a long breath, and went on. "Did you by chance ever hear of Aymar? Jacques Aymar, of Crole?" "No, I do not think I ever heard of him; but stay, I cannot be quite sure. You do not mean the man who was expert with the divining rod? I re member reading about him once, ages ago. If I remember right, his power had this peculiarity, that in his hands the rod was not only efficacious in the ordinary way of discovering the existence of water in any place, or minerals, but he pretended that it also enabled him to point out those who had committed crimes, and to detect criminals. My father was at one time very much interested in mesmerism and all mysteries of that sort, and he got together curious information respecting Jacques Ay mar, who, after all, I believe turned out to be an imposter. Can it be that man you mean?fc "You think he was an imposter?" she asked, very eagerly. "I cannot say; it is impossible to judge," he said, astonished at her eagerness. "I think mediums, and such people, are sometimes in the position of finding their ;*?-.tural gifts fail them, and then they have re course to imposture to hide the fact. It may have been so with Aymar." "I do not believe it was imposture," she said, nervously, twisting her hands together. "But Heaven knows how gladly I would think so if only I could. You are astonished; but perhaps you will better understand my interest in him when I tell you that my mother's name was Jacque line Aymar, and that in may cases in our family, and I very greatly fear in my own, the faculty has proved her editary." "The use of the divining rod?" cried Arthur. "Is it possible that you can really believe such nonsense? Please forgive me for saying so." "I told you that you would mock me!" she said, sinking back in her seat witn so ciejectea an air mat Ar thur felt the greatest compunction for having spoken so hastily. "I beg your pardon," he exclaimed, earnestly. "Indeed, the "ea of laugh ing at you never entered my head for a moment; tut, oh! dear Mademoi selle Rigaud, do allow me most strongly to warn you against allow ing such an idea to gain possession of your mind; it might prove most dangerous to your whole future hap piness and peace." "It has already proved so," she said, seriously. "I suppose there is no mistake," said Arthur; "that it is a fact that your mother was descended from Jacques Aymar? It must be difficult to ascertain it really, for, after all, his notoriety was only local, and Crole was an obscure little place." "There is no proof, but the fact of the similarity of name is singular. Jacques Aymar was from the Midi, ray grandfather was Nantais; but? and this is the thing that frightens me?the power has existed more or less in one or two members of the Family, and I myself have had singu lar proof that I possess, at all events in some degree, this hateful power." To be Continued. Lightning Rod Inventor Dead. David Munson, one of the oldest business men of this city, is dead, the result of an accidental fall re ceived near Curtisville, Tipton Coun ty, this State. A number of men under his direc tion were engaged in putting light ning rods on a large barn. Mr. Mun son had started to go up a ladder. When abo-.t twelve feet from the ground he was seized with a vertigo and fell. He died from the shock yesterday. AOOUt IOOU ne lllveiiiKU luuuyjii a copper tubular iightning rod with spiral flanges." This was the first material departure from the old-fash ioned iron rod, and it had a great sale all over the United States. From the time of its Invention up almost lo the present he had taken out about 125 patents on lightning rods and ap pliances for their manufacture.?In dianapolis News. Vulgar Fractions. Everything that Bobby learned at school he endeavored to apply in his iaily life and walk. When his moth er asked him if one of his new friends i? 1 n>ion was an oniy ciinu, nuuuj wumu ?>g? and triumphant. "He's got just one sister," said Bobby. "He tried to catch me when fie told me he had two half-sisters, but I guess I know enough fractions for that!"?Youth's Companion. A Fighting Stntc. Whenever you scratch Kansas hls ($ry you find a fight. No territory ot equal size has had so much war over so many different causes. Her story in Indian fighting, gambler fighting, 4, 4-^T, nifrv ouuaw uniting, and political fighting is not ap proached by any other portion of the West.?Outinj: Magazine. Norway's seaweed, used as fuel, yields a greater revenue tbau its fisheries. 1 ~ Thei?"r.iost Deadly Enemy. The most deadly enemy to gooa roads is water! Try and keep in mind this one fundamental thought, that water does more damage to roads than all other agencies put to gether! If it were not for water a road once good would always be good. Think about this; every time you drive over a road fipeak about it to everybody you meet. Keep insisting that more attention be given to the subject of keeping water from stand ing in puddles along the road. It stands in pools only when there are holes for it to go into. No holes; no water! No water, no mud! One shovelful of gravel will fill a small hole, and if all the small holes are kept filled, there will never be any' large holes! You can fill a thousand small holes for what it will cost to fill ten large holes. In one case you will have a perfect road all the time. In the other case you never had a good one. It is either holes or fresh stone the year round! But after a road has been properly, built it is an easy mat ter to keep it so by watching for the Bmall depressions which always ap pear in a new road, where little pools of water will accumulate auer a ram. They look so very innocent and harm less at first; but tho enemy?water? is there and at work! It softens the ground, and along comes a loaded team and forces out the water and some dirt with it?just a little?but , the depression is made a little deeper and will hold a little more water than i before; and the big wagon comes along again and swishes out more dirt with the water than it did the i first time, and by continuing the i process times enough a first-clas^ "chuck-hole" is soon developed, which we begin to avoid by turning to one : side. We keep edging away from it ?one wagon after another?until we find ourselves in the ditch, where a second hole is created, and then i there is no escape, and we must pull our load through some way. We 1 mutter a little and then "lam-up" the horses, which must "grunt and take it," while they are nearly jerked off ' their feet by the pole and neck Voke. This kind of thfng is repeated i many times over, in a greater or lc*;3 i degree daring a day's drive over a pike three or four years old which has received no attention during that time. Wherever a drain tilp has been laid across a road you will always una ' a raise or a hole, even ihough it has i been in for two or three years. Every ' body sees it and takes the "jolt," but nobody fixes it, although it might be i done in ten minutes, simply because it is nobody's business. Fcr the came reason when you ap proach a bridge you are compelled to pull your load up a six or eight-inch raise where the earth and plank come together, and then you must "jump I off" at the other end of the bridge, and practically the same tiding is also encountered at the numerous culvert crossings wherever you go. Because they have never been otherwise?al ways just exactly as you see thsm now?everybody has grown to think them all right, or at least they must be tolerated as something that cannot be changed, never realizing how feau I fully abominable they really arc! Prize Giving For Mair.ten.inco. There is now a plan oh foot in j Wisconsin to offer a number of hand J some prizes for good roads building, the object being to greatly improve and to maintain one of the most im portant runs in the State. Back of the movement is the Milwaukee Au , j tomobile Club. The project is to di vide the' highway into several dis tricts and to offer cash prizes for the best kept sections. The prizes will be offered to the several property owners or farmers through whose premises the highway runs. The , highest prize will be $250, and they will run down to a sum that will be large enough to stir up interest alone. This section of the State is the most famous in all Badgerdom in the mat ter of unique schemes to improve and keep up the roads. At one time the wealthy summer home owners offered school children cash prizes for throw ing stones off the road while they were trudging back and forth in at tending schools in country districts. Pathmasters were appointed, they watched the work, and on their re ports the prizes were awarded. It might be mentioned in this con nection that not long since the wom en's clubs of Kane County, Illinois, raised over $1000 to improve and beautify a road along the Fox River. The money was raised by selling a silver spoon, engraved in the bowl of which was the head of a famous Indian chief "who used to trail over the road in pioneer times and always was noted for his kindly treatment of the palefaces. The spoons have been sold to people living in half the States of the Union.?The Automobile. Great Forest Reserves of Nevada. The National forest reserve in Ne vada now reaches the enormous total of 8,528,479 acres. The total acre age of the State, including water sur face, is something over 74,000,000. Therefore the forest reserve com prises more than one aero in every ten. The last reserve formed was the Las Vegas National Forest, locally known as ttie sneep Mountains, u covers an area of 195,S40 acres and is the eighth to be formed in the i State. In addition to this the Secretary of the Interior has announced the with drawal of 610,451 acres in White Pine and Nye counties, to be added i to the National forest reserve, mak ing a total of over 9,000,000 acres that will have been withdrawn in a short time. ? Reno Correspondence San Francisco Chronicle. An Embarrassing Explanation. "Why do you charge me twenty , five cents, when your sign says 'First ; Class Hair Cut, fifteen cents?' " de manded the indignant customer. The i small French barber shrugged hia shoulders and lifted his eyebrows. "Pardon, monsieur," he returned, softly, "but it is not all who come to i me that have the first-class hair."? Youth's Companion. Out of every 1000 persons in Lon don, twenty-six are legal paupers. Of the forty-four Methodist preach ers in Idaho, twenty-three receive less than $400. According to the latest estimate, the loss of life due to the earthquake which recently destroyed the city of Karatagh in Bokhara and the sur rounding country, is approximately 10,000 persons. The food supplies carted away from the back door of any prosperous American family would in Franco supply a household with food of bet ter quality than is commonly fur nished at our own tables. Sea water is taken as medicine in the travelers' resorts of South Amer ica. Physicians recommend it to their patients. "Swallow that sea water!" cried a physician to a young woman bathing in the sea at Rio Janeiro. The young woman obediently gulped it down. It is generally admittei that you can't beat the Dutch for lengthy names, but when It comes to brevity New York takes the palm. A grocer on lower Falton street, Brooklyn, signs himself laconically "A1 Re." That is as brief a signature as one could find in a good day's travel. The grandest train in the world is said to be the Kaiser's. It cost $1, 000,000, and took three years to build. In the twelve sumptuous sa loons are two nursery coaches, a gymnasium, music room, drawing room, furnished with oil paintings and statuary. The treasure room, with its two safes, is burglar-proof. The superiority of the pure-blooded Arabian horse consists not in his size, nor in his speed, nor in his strength? for in these respects he is excelled' by horses of other breeds; but in his perfection of form, symmetry of limb, cleanness of muscle, beauty of ap pearance, for endurance of fatigue, for docility and intelligence. Wife buying is of frequent occur rence in British Columbia. Two In dian girls, not fourteen years old, were sold to the highest bidders in the open market at Alert Bay a few weeks ago. One thousand dollars cash was paid for the girl who was first sold. Rosa, a dark eyed and slight girl from Rivers Inlet, was the second put up for barter, the price advancing from $500 to nearly half as much again, payable in dirty blankets. These girls are not con sulted in any way .before they are sold. The fathers or their nearest relatives sell them to the men who pay the most for them. TRIBE OF CRIMINAL. The Magliaya's Greatest Pride is Suc cessful Burglary. The Maghaya is born in an arhar field and schooled to theft from his infancy. He lives without shelter or food for the morrow, perpetually moving from encampment to encamp ment, chased by the police and exe crated by the villagers. His great est pride is a successful burglary, and a prolonged drinking bout his most coveted reward. Jail offers no terrors to the Dom; j it is merely the result of being a bungler at his trade. Tne nrst at tempt to reclaim the Maghaya Doms in Champarun was made by Mr. (now Sir E.)Henry. He found the greater number of the adult mem bers of the tribe were in jail. Every police officer was held responsible if any Doms were found in his juris diction, with the result that as soon as a Dom was released from jail he was usually returned thither under the bad livelihood sections. Agricultural settlements wero established for the tribe, but they do not seem to have been very success ful as civilizing agencies. The set tlements serve as houses for the women and children, but the men are seldom found in them. The females generally hawk stolen property in the villages and act as spies.?Bengal Gazetteer. The Champion Rubber Tree. One and a half pounds of dry rub ber a month is, says the Far Eastern Review, the record of a single six teen year old Para tree in Ceylon. This tree, which has not much of a girth for its age, branches off beauti fully about five feet from the ground on/1 efnnrlc nn cmvpllv Soil. The SVS tem of tapping adopted was the usual full herringbone, and it has been very lightly tapped every other day^ The flow of latex during the tapping was so copious that it required the ser vices of a special coolie, and an un usually large cup has had-to ba placed to receive the extra latex dur ing the nights. The superintendent of this estate uses a special knife in vented by himself; it is a safety blade and can be put into the hands of an ordinary laborer without dan ger to the tree. '"Nothing Doing." "Nothing doing!'' Is that Viang? I thought it was until last night, when I came upon the words in Dick I ens' "Dombey & Son." In chapter IV. old Sol Gills is explaining to his 1 nephew Walter why the shop must I be closed and the business abandoned. "You see, Walter," said he, "in truth this business is merely a habit with me. I am so accustomed to the habit that I could hardly live if I relin quished it; but there's nothing do ing, nothing doing." So you see, the phrase had its pathetic fitness half 11 a century ago, i*uu la uui aiaug at an. ?Wasp. But He Can't. A fly so minute as to be almost in visible ran three inches in half a sec ond, and was calculated to make no : less than 540 steps in tne time a man ' could breathe once. A in*n with proportionate agility could mil twen ty-four miles in a minuto. ?Pittsburc; Dispatch. V" ;& THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. INTERNATIONAL LESSON UUai MENTS FOR MARCH 8. Subject: Jesus the Bread of Life, John 6:22-40 ? Golden Text, John 6:35?-Commit Verses 38?Commentary. TIME.?April, A. D. 28. PLACE. Capernaum. 11 EXPOSITION. ? I. Seeking the Food Tliat Perisheth. 22-34. The multitude came "seeking Jesus." That sounds well, but it was a wrong sort of seeking and did not bring sal [ vation. It was not really Jesus Him 1 self that they were seeking, but t* - loaves and flshe3. There is much that sort of seeking still. It was not the "sign" as indicating His divine character that drew them, but simply the wonder as indicating that there would be a constant supply of bread. They did not see "in the bread the sign," but only "in the sign of the bread." Their eyes and desire were entirely fixed on "the food which per isheth." There is "food which abid* eth unto eternal life," and the man who seeks only "the food which per isheth" when he can have "food which abideth unto eternal life" Is a fool. It is tne son or man wno gives tnia more precious food. It is a gift and cannot be earned (cf. Ro. 6:23; Eph. 2:8). Still we are to ."work" for it. How to work for it v. 29 tells. The loaves miraculously multiplied were a sign of the true bread. The result of eating the meat which abideth is that one lives forever (vs. 51, 58). The proof that the Son of man gives the food which abideth unto eternal life is that the Father, even God, had sealed Him (cf. Acts 2:22; Jno. 1; 33, 34; 5:36, 37; 10:37, 38; Matt. 3:17). There is just one work that God requires as'the condition of re ceiving this bread, viz.: belief on Him whom He hath sent (cf. Jno. 3:16-18 30; Jno. 16:31; Eph. 2.-8). "This is the work of God." All other things count for nothing if this is lacking: This work does not merit the true bread, but simply accepts it. Jesus' nearers aemanaea a sign as a condi tion of believing on Him. The unrea sonableness of this demand is appar ent when one remembers the recent miracle of the loaves and fishes (vs. 10-14). The demands of modern skeptics are just as unreasonable. He Himself was the greatest of all signs (v. 36). They sought to enforce theiT demand by a reference to Moses and the manna. But Jesus showed them that the manna was but a type of Himself, "the (true) bread of God." The two characteristics of this bread are (1) it "coraeth down out of heav en;" (2) it "giveth life ^nto the world." Jesus' hearers did not un derstand what He meant, so they ex? claimed, "evermore give us this bread." s H. Offering the Bread of Life, 35 40. Jesus explained to them that He Himseif was the true bread of God of which He spoke. "I am the bread of life," were His nimple but wonderful words. As the bread of life He would satisfy every hunger of their hearts and every thirst as well. "Hunger" may stand for the deep longing for that which ministers strength; "thirst," the more intense desire for that which satisfies spiritual craving. Then we see that Jesus ministers nev er failing strength to all who come to Him and never failing peace to, all who believe on Him. There is a dif ferent shade of meaning in "coming to Him" and "believing on Him." "Coming to Him" is seeking help and blessing from Him; "believing on Him" is the absolute abandonment of self to Him. They had seen this bread (v. 36) right before their eyes, but never appreciated what it was be cause so taken up with the material and unreal. And men are so taken up with the material and unrfeal to day that they^ neither appreciate noi believe in this true bread. But while the mass of men would not come tc ?esus some would, "all that which the Father giveth Me." That which the Father hath given includes "every one 1 that had heard from the Father and hath learned" (v. 45). Any one can prove that he belongs to that elect and blessed company that the Father hath given to Jesus by just coming tc Him. And if any one does come he will be received. Jesus says in the most positive way, "I will in no wise cast him out." If any one thinke himself too great a sinner, or not to belong to the elect, or to have sinned j awcty me uaj* ui. grace, just icc uiui come and he has the word of Christ for it that He will receive Him. It is a wonderful reason Jesus gives for not casting him out, "for I came down I from heaven not to do Mine own will, but the will of Him who sent Me" (v, 38). Then follows a statement of the Father's gracious will. It is so dif ferent from the idea many have oj God's will. This will is "of all that which He hath given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day." Not one then that really comes to Jesus, and thus proves he belongs to "that which the Father hath given" Jesus can ever be lost (cf. Jno. 10:28, 29; 17:12, R. V.; Col. 3:3, 4; 1 Pet. 1:3; Jude 1; 2 Ti. 1:12). It is furthermore the will of God that everyone (1) "that behold eth the Son" (R. V.), and (2) "be lieveth on Him" "should have eternal life." Such is the Father's will and Jesus adds, "I will raise him up at I the last day." LEADING QUESTIONS. ? In this lesson what different things do we see Jesus to be? What does He give? What does He satisfy? What is His relation to the Father? What is God the Father's will? What must we do to have every longing satisfied? How many will Jesus receive and give eter * ' 1 * -rwri x _ ^ U 1 a# nai lire .' >vnat is me uesu leoauu u? the passage? Kegalia Held For Ransom? The London Tribune hears from a source which it regards as trustwor thy that the missing Irish regalia are held intact for a large ransom and a guarantee cf immunity from punish ment. It says that the mystery of the disappearance can, however, only he solved by a public inquiry, which I would reveal amazing and romantic features. f amine in .Laplanu'. Serious famine conditions are prevalent in the iron mining district nf Northern Lapland. According to a dispatch to Dagens Nyheter from Ki runa the inhabitants in the parish of Velhelmina have gone to the extreme of slaughtering dogs and cats for food to prevent starving to death. Make Bank Directors Liable. Personal liability of bank directors to the extent of their personal for tunes for all losses to depositors is proposed by Professor Earl Dean Howard, of Chicago. Glucose in France. Seventeen factories are reported as engaged in the manufacture of glu cose in France. |religious Truths\ . T ~-i From the Writings of Great f Preachers. | "WHY, HOW, WHERE?" \ ___ An ancient legend tells that once ? Three earnest men before their Lord, Awaiting stood, to know His will: , A preacher one, a student one, . The third?a timid, loving heart. ^ ***** i ? Unto the first one day there came -? His call: "Go thou, without delay, ";1 And bear My words where snows are deepf' Where day and night the icy hands Of chilling frosts m bondage hold The frozen earth." The preacher paused \ To ask the question: "Why should I Go there, when harvests here await?" ? ? The scholar also heard His call: ^ '> -'/1 "Go thou and bear My message true # > O'er mountain heights, o'er pathless plains^ Through rivers deep and swift, where I Thy paths may choose." The scholar stooi lo a?K tiis JLx>ra: ~i wouja, duc now Can I go forth to bear Thy words I To regions which the feet of man Have never trod?" ' *! Bv loving hearty So timid, weak, the Masters call Was heard: "Go thou where cruel hate, Where wrath of man doth bar thy way. Fierce foes thv path oppose and wild Their rage. Thy life may be the price Of thee I ask." . -'ie $ Then love replied? "I go, dear Lord. Show Thou me where / I toil may find to prove my love, ' And in Thy strength I pladly serve. ' All, all I ask is life or death y'. For Thee, as Thou for me dost will. Thine own I am and only .Thine, To be, to do, to go, to speak Wherever Thou ray life canst use In Thine own Name." And legend aaksr ' "Which of the waitine three art thou?" ?Ernest Wellealey Wesley, in Christian .? Advocate. Scatter Sunshine. Our day dreams are never pleas*' anter than when they take the torn* of picturing what we would do t<* V\ /-> 1 rt aIVi a?/i 4 9 <ra*/v Ati t <9 /] /I AM 1 T? help others If we should suddenly be* V j y would laugh at fhe Idea that they come rich. TV) begin with, many have riches worth .sharing. They im* aglne that money is the only thin? worth giving away, whereas it Is on* of the less important gifts. Good* ' I spirits, bright ideas, sympathy, leis ure, hopefulness, strength of purpose, are more truly our own possession* n than gold eagles could ever be, since they are part of ourselves. And yet ' they can be shared with.others. Tli? j giving of one's self to the world'! j need is the highest form of gener-. x. 4 osity. * ' Do any of you wonder how this It to be done. Take, for example, that friend of yours who apparently was born with blue spectacles over hen eyes. i She is not always pleasant company, and that fact makes the sharing of your own natural hopeful} ness a sweeter charity. Drop in upon her often, even though it MS likelj leaving sunshine for a foggy night Laugh her out of her gloomy for& bodings. Shed the light of buoyant cheerfulness on her shadowed heart Brighten the atmosphere about het< by the light of innocent mirth an? holy joF. In smaller things, too, there is i chance for generosity. A girl sit? down to read her new book, whil* over in the corner mother bends ovei her sewing. Why shouldn't the readl (ng be done aloud, and the mothef be given a chance to share her daugh ter's enjoyment? Healthy, hopeful youth is nevej poor. Just remember that. Its hands are full of what the world need^ most; and it has only to unclasp its fingers to scatter blessings. Instead1 of regretting' that you can not giv^ iway the wealth of other people, opei^ f I pour eyes to your own riches, and * learn the joy of sharing your good things with others.?Pittsburg Obaen rer. Piety Paid. r "But he shall receive a hundred* : \ fold now in this time" (v. 30). / . A young man hesitated to become e Christian because he was engaged in x business which seemed to him tc lemand Sunday opening. In facti Dne-third of his profits came fron* Sunday trade. For years he was o4 tho point of giving up, closing shotf Dn Sunday, and trying to lead a' con^ llstent Christian life. But every time?, lust before reaching a decision, he looked at his books. When he sa* how much he would lose, he dre* back. Finally, he determine* that, ost what it might, he would be 9 Christian. He closed his shop on Bunday and attended church. Their |ie became a member. Fellow-Chris* Mans rallied about him and gave, him their custom. At the end of the year (a poor year because of crop failures) ? he found that his profits had Deei greater than ever before. ?? The Religion of Life. "Whatever separates religion from ) life or makes It only a part of life if \ distinctively an evil. All of life ir religious, just as all of one's body if alive. There is no distinctly relig*. ious realm, as apart from other realms. A man is just as religiout In his office as he is in his church pew. Religion is like a sea th&. in undates all of life. It finds no highet ? J level in a man's worship than it does In his work. Reality is to be gauged by the lowest level. It cannot ris? ^ higher elsewhere, except in waves ol feeling that soon subside. I do not ask concerning your religion. Youl life reveals it.?Paragraph Pulpit. Celestial Guiding Stars. Here on earth we are as soldier* Jghting in a foreign land. Let us dif like soldiers, with submission, witlr courage, with a heroic joy. "What jver thy hand findeth to do, do it wltfc ihy might." And from the bosom of Eternity there shines for us csle3tiaj guiding stars.?Carlyle. Bless God For Afflictions. Afflictions are blessings to us wher we can bless God for afflictions. God had one Son without sin, but He nevr er had any without sorrow?Dyar japan Ousting Britain. Presiding at the annual meeting ot the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company, Sir Thomas ' Sutherland, chairman of the com pany, had to make the confession that the entire trade of the line be tween Bombay and Japan had been wiped out by its Japanese competi tors. Speakingof the startling strides raaae Dy Japanese iraae in xae niast the chairman said it seemed to him that the "soul of a people that had lain dormant for centuries had sud denly awakened to almost supernat ural activity." He thought the Jap anese Government was unfriendly