Is .His Or
j " A PSYCHOL
1 By SAE
CHAPTER XVIIL 16 '
Continued.
But Dr. Mansell was "not nearly
so charitable. He did not say much
about it, but he lelt in his own
heart that he never could have liked
the fellow under any circumstances.
.Yet he did what he could lor him,
nevertheless, and on this evening in .
particular he worked with rare tact,
< first fixinir Mr. Soames' mind on the I
subject of delusions generally, then
gradually showing how any one of
the three then present might at that
moment be laboring imder a delusion
quite patent to the other two, but
never suspected by himself* and finally
making the application personal
by remarking in a casual way: "I
suppose, though, nothing would make
you believe that you are traveling under
a delusion, Mr. Soames?? "T
don't know," he answered, ruffling
his hair up from behind and forcing
a laugh, though it was easy to see
, 'that the subject affected him seriously
for some reason or other. He shook
the impression off, however, and
asked, in a bantering tone: "What'
form of delusion should you say T
was suffering "from, doctor?", "Well,"
Dr. Mansell answered, "I should say
that you were under the delusion
, that you were till alone in the world,
with no one to care for you, while allthe
time you are bound by the nearest
and dearest tie a man can have. I
should say that you wer^ attacked by
this delusion quite suddenly one day,
and having lost the sense of your
own identity you wandered off under
the impression that you were somebody
else?some friend of yours, say
laairfno- a "Inrlv in a hnrrihtA state
of suspense, not knowing what had
become of yon, and a'little child."
"Ah, by Jove!" Mr. Soames exclaimed,
slapping the table. "Who
told you that story, doctor? Was I
drunk last night? I remember having
her in my mind, but I thought I
had been dreaming. Was I talking
about her? I do "talk sometimes
when I'm drunk, but it's taking a
mean advantage, ^bu know, to round
on a fellow that -way." He became
thoughtful for a little. "It all happened
a long time ago," he pursued;
but I know now -what a fool.I was
to desert her. I've never come across
her like again. And I'll tell you what
It is, doctor, if I knew where she was
at this moment, and she'd have me,
I'd do the right thing by her yet,
and by the child; I would, Indeed.
And I'm not drunk mow. 'J know
what I'm saying."
"My poor fellow," "Lord Wartlebury
said, soothingly, "you fancy :it
was a long time ago, then?"
"And wasn't It?" Jtfr. Soames
asked, suspiciously.
"Try and recollect."
He puzzled his brains for a little,
then gave it up, <xr came to a conclu- .
sion, it was impossible to say which,
with a toss of his head and :a laugh.
"Oh, come now."" he osaid, "you .are
trying to draw me."
Dr. Mansell smiled. "Wo were
talking about delusions," toe said. "Now,
suppose I told you seriously
. that you.were not LaWrence Soames
at all, that your real name Isvlieslie
Somers?"
"Leslie Somers?" Ira Interposed.
*1 know that name. But"?after a
pause?"I cannot for the life of me
v, remember how I know it or what I ,
know about it. However., lor the
: sake of argument, m suppose I'm
. Leslie Somers. What then?"
"Leslie Somers," Dr.Mansell stoTid
ly pursued, "is a barrister, a well
\ known man, whose name appears con<1
tinually In the daily papers.. At the
beginning of this summer he "began
to suffer from the effects of overwork,
and was obliged to take a holiday.
He'went with his wife and child
to a quiet little seaside place to re
cruit, and seemed to be recovering;
but one day, without any warning,
he became the victim of a delusion.
He imagined that his name was Lawrence"Soames,
that he was accredited
British' Consul to San Francisco, and
after careering about the Continent a
little in an erratic way and never
doubting the reality of his impression
he set off for America quite prepared
to enter upon his new duties.'"
"What would happen, then, when
he got to America and found out his
;mistake?" Mr. Soames asked.
"Ah, that is difficult to say," the
doctor rejoined. "But I haven't finished
the first part of the plot yet.
;I must tell you that his wife had
'followed him all through his wanderings
with great courage and devotion,
that she had traced him with rare intelligence,
and nearly lost her life on
three occasions .in her eagerness to
.overtake him, -and that at last she'
actually embarked on the same ship
that he did for San Francisco, but remained
concealed, nervously dreading
the shock ct-seeing him and finding
herself forgotten. After a time,
, however, it was found impossible for
matters to remain so, and useless,
-too, if he was ever to be restored to
his right mind, a-nd it was therefore
rlftomorl -f> H viQS) hit* t<o nwinuro him fnr
ran interview, and to endeavor if possible
to rouse his recollection by setting
the past before him. so as to enable
.liirn to realize his own plight."
Lord Wartlebury here nodded approval,
but Mr. Lawrence Soames
remained with shrewd eyes 13xed intelligently
on the doctor and enigmatical
grin on his face for some seconds
;longer. It was impossible to :
guess what was passing through his
?uind, and just as he was about to i
speak the unexpected sound of a i
piano, touched by ? light, firm hand,
diverted his attention. He looked :
around. <
"It is one of th? ladies," Lord
Wartlebury explained. "Their cabin 1
is just behind you." , ;
The first few chords, played evi- i
dent 1 y to try ths instrument, grad- i
ually resolved themselves into the 1
strong and exquisite yet sioipie ca- 1
exj
ok
x wa
HER 5r.tr ?
===== [11] . ev<
OG1CAL NOVEL. an'
\ | Wi
} del
:ah grand. . ( 1 pei
I ne1
deuce -of J. S. Bach's first prelude, ^0i
set as retournelle and accompanied
by Gounod to his '"Ave Maria." It <
was played with exquisite feeling, fjc
and at the right moment a lovely con- 0f
tralto voice took up the air: tie
"Ave Maria! tel
Mighty yet lowly sh(
Pure and most holy,. ,
Hear from; tbv starry throne cfor prayer: w
Though faithle89 friends may grieve us, Soi
"Wealth and fortune leave us. int
Grant to our grief and .to our pain, thy
tender care. ^ an
Sancta Maria! to
"When we are tearful,
When we are fearful, - .
Give to us thine aid?to ub thine aid?of y
prayer!n he
"Lawrence Soames turned to the ev<
side from whence the sound proceed- thi
ed, and sat listening spellbound. An th<
unmistakable flash of recognition had pu
come into his face -when the first tui
notes were played, and swiftly follow- off
ing came signs of softening and emo- by
tion such as had riot yet appeared sui
since he came on board the yacht, an
The whole man was transformed for rej
the flioment, elevated undoubtedly, be
and when he spoke it was in a broken wc
voice, from which, for once, all the evi
jarring coarseness had disappeared, no
"Well, I may be. mad," he said, trs
"Bnd I may have a wife and'child, as an
you "say, and I mayn't be Lawrence no
Soames, British Consul at 'Frisco? en
It l^ all possiDie enougn, ana, oy jove, ne
If she sings again, I shall want to be- st
lieve it! I shall want to believe that pa:
I didn't desert her, that J stood by tb(
her like, a man, and by the child, joi
and that she is singing that now, as his
she used to sing it long ago with a coi
thankful heart, as she said because
of the great joy my coming had Wi
brought into her miserable life. For Le
it was a miserable existence I took ab
her from, and she was happy with th<
me; but?I don't know why?she got wa
outxjf health, and I think it bothered we
me to see her .so?rat any rate, I de- SU]
serted her." th<
His head sunk on his breast and p0
he fixed "hiB eyes on the table before COi
him, then suddenly he looked, at Lord cu;
Wartlebury. St!
"Are you a sort Uf prince in a mt
fairy tale, sir?" he said. "Do you go ha
about righting wronged damsels, and dei
have you brought us together .on pur- wi
pose?" v Sh
"I -am very anxious to see this, bu
matter put right," Lord Wartlebury to.
an'swered, guardedly. liti
"Yes." Lawrence Soames went on w
again in his strangely altered voice, So
"I begin to recall her?rthe soft dark an
hair, the great tender eyes, the little bis
loving ways. Doctor, ask her to sing th<
again?no!" suddenly jumping up. ha
"Ask her to see me?ask her to for- no
give me. the misery I have 'caused Ge
her. Tell her I see it all now?I .am sec
an altered man?I repent." hu
Lord Wartlebury looked at Dr. bu
Mansell inquiringly. se:
"Has it come right?" he asked, in bla
a low tone. ey<
"Not quite," was the answer. "Tou wii
see, 'he is mistaken about the circum- doi
stances. However, he remembers her Lo
?that is the great thing; the rest to
will come by degrees. Stop a minute, -aft
SoameaT" He had been about to leave sta
the saloon. "You don't know your ser
way. Stay "here a moment, and 1 will to
go :anfl find .out if she is prepared .to pia
see you." cat
Qyring the few minutes the doctor sse
was away Mr. Soames stood motion- ser
less With his head up, in the attitude toe
of one straining his attention to hear, ing
and neither spoke. He was very pale, ]
and when the doctor came for him he try
followed him out nervously. wii
Dr. "Mansell returned to Lord War- bli:
tleTxury immediately. He was cheer- to
fully rubbing his hands. "I did not hal
see them meet," he said. "They will sm
get -over the interview best by them- tt i
selves. I <julte expect he will re- '
member everything distinctly directly ant
he sees her." ffgi
Lord Wartlebury parted his lips gla
to Teply, but just at that moment a 4
piercing shriek rang through the ship 4
ana maae me glasses uance on uie
table.
"The madman is murdering her!"
fhey both exclaimed, and rushed to ,
the rescue.
tvh
CHAPTER XIX. ' to:
The scene that presented itself to sue
Lord Wartlebury and Dr. Mansell on ?!
entering the ladies' saloon was very tha
inexplicable. They could see at a thr
glance that something had gone ha5
wrong there, but there was no sign 'or
of violence, nothing to account for 'vei
the scream.
Miss homers stood in the doorway it?
of her cabin, her plain, benevolent old
face full of consternation; Gertrude, cor
in evening dress?as they all. were? *or
stood in the middle of the saloon, her brc
hands pressed convulsively to her the
breast, her eyes staring, her cheeks on(
pale, her lips still parted as when she
uttered that one cry, gazing like one
norror-stricKen at Mr. .Lawrence UUJ
Soames, who had apparently stag- mo
gered up against the woodwork of sll?
the ship, and was leaning there as Pei
if for support, with a face no less SUI
pale than Gertrude's, and a bewilder- v,'b
ment about him difficult to depict len
He was, however, the first to re- tisi
cover himself. "It seems," he said,
turning to Lord Wartlebury, "there's
been some mistake here."
Lord Wartlebury looked at Ger- ^
trude for an explanation.
"That man," she gasped, "Is not?
my?husband!"
"Oh, what does it all mean?" Miss
Snmprs exalaimpd. enmine forward as
she spoke. b
"Well, it means," Mr. Soames said, j
sarcastically,slaking himself together ma
ami lounging away from the wood- cej.
work?"it mean6, so far as I can
make out, that I'vo got among a set .
Df staring?lunatics." jt 1
Hereupon Lord Wartlebury instant- are
ly recovered himsslf also. MI am .
lfrald there has been an unfortunate
mistake," he said, with his usual diglifted
precision. "I think, sir, if you r
lave no objection, we had better ask yiel
,he ladies to excuse us. I have an fish
% I ' < V /VM*
Sanation to offer you, and an apoli
to make," with which he led the
y back to the great Baloon.
The scene that followed Is Indelhal)le.
Mr. SoameB was naturally
raged. At first he thought himself
5 victim of an elaborate practical
cp, and he was not to he mollified
in when he found that his host
3 the doctor were as much sold as
nself, aB he phrased It. "Why the
tril didn't you ask to see my pars?"
he roared at them. '
This very proper precaution had
per occurred to them, because no
abt of his'Identity had ever entered
ilr minds.
To do Mr. Lawrence Soames juse,
however, after the first outbreak
indignation, and after Lord Warbury
had sufficiently abased himf,
going so far In his anxiety to
3w contrition and make amends as
swear eternal friendship with Mr.
ames. and promise"the use of his
;erest in the Consular service or
y other branch of the Legislature
him and to his heirs forever; also
I must mention 4t?after a 6atisng
share of .a bottle of champagne,
began to be genial again. He was'
2n immensely tickled when' he
jught over all that had occurred?
3 way he had beenchased from
ice to, place by a lovely lady, cap-ed
by a peer of th? realm, carried
in a floating palace and guarded
an eminent physician, without once
3pectigg the object of all this care
d attention! It was all too funny,
illy; and when the story came to
told it was evident that the laugh
uld not .be at his expense at all
2nts. . And, After all, he had lost
thing by the mistake. On the contry,
he had made a powerful friend
d had had a very good time. And
w if his lordship would be good
- - ___ I
OUgfc to put mm on saure at aiaua
would be able to catch the very
>amer on which he had taken his
ssage for 'Frisco when she touched
;re, and might, go on his way recing,
certainly iione the worse for I
s novel experience; which was ac-.l
rdingly done. , ' :
He was a common-looking fellow, I
thout the faintest resemblance to,
slie Somers in the face, but he was '|
out the same height; his hair ^as.
3 same-color, and grew in the same
y; and he happened to have been
aring much of the same sort of
mmer tweed suit; all of which, with
3 circumstance of his leaving Trewrt
Station at the time he did, acunted
for the mistake. The'dimity
now was how to repair it. The
ir was, of course, headed homo im rfintoiv
hut what Dreclous time
d been lost! Poor Gertrude sat on
ck all day long hnd balf the night,
th her hands before her, thinking,
e was very quiet and very patient,
t seemed to dislike being spoken
Dr. Mansell distracted her a
tlo by reading to her, while Lord
artlebury tried to comfort Miss'
mers, who was naturallyi nearly as
xious on her brother's account as
i wife was. On arriving at London
5 case was at once put into the
nds of competent detectives, as all
w felt it should have been at first,
rtrude went with Miss Somers to
s if anything had been heard of her
sband at his home or chambers,
t both were still closed and deled.
The house especially looked
ink and dreary, like a face without
>s, with all the blinds down; she
3hed she had not seen it. Having
ae all that there was to be done In
ndon, she went at once to Trewport
see her boy. She arrived late- one
ernoon, and walked down from the
tion, leaving her luggage to be
it for, there being no vehicles sent
meet trains from that primitive
.ce unless specially ordered, a pre-.
ition she had neglected, wishing to
! how her boy had fared In her abice,
as she might exactly, If she
ik the household by surprise, giv:
them no time for preparation,
[t ^ras a lovely afternoon, but suland
she found all the doors and
ndows wide open and the sunnds
still drawn. &o one appeared
be -about, so she walked into the
[1 and looked around. It seemed
aHer than when she had last seen
end Kit -strange.
rhe drawing y room door was ajar
1 '?he went in there. A gaunt
ire -sprung from a couch with a
d cry.
'Gertrude'!"
' Leslie"!"" .
To be Continued.
152000 For a Cracker,
rhe "North Country Millionaire,"
o is aid to "have spent ?110 on a
: of Christmas crackers, has not
iceeded in snatchine the record of
shall we say??extravagance from
it wealthy predecessor who two or
ee years ago paid ?250 for a mere
If dozen crackers, specially ma&e
him by a firm of London sil smiths.
These costly cosaques,
ich were enshrined In an exquissilver
-box, had wrappers of rare
lace and figured satin, and each
italned in a silver casket, which
med its centre, a valuable ring or
>och. But, so far as we know,
s costliest cracker on record was
; constructed of gold in such faithimitation
of a sheaf of wheat
it its modelling kept an industri3
goldsmith hard at work for six
nths. Tucked away In this golden
>af was a ring set with rare and
fectly matched pearls; and the
11 paid for this king of crackers,
ich measured only four inches in
gth, was ?400.?Dundee Adver?r.
Strange Coincidence in Deaths.
\ strangely pathetic tragedy has
i-J it-. J i. V?
?n reveaieu uy tue uwiu ui a muu
the c?.sual ward of the Tonbridge
rkhouse. The man arrived there
the prosecution of his search for
wife, from whom ne separated
ny years a'-o, and he died through
laking of a ulood vessel.
tie told his story to the workhouse
ster, who l^ade inquiries and astained
that on the same day a
man had died from a precisely
lilar cause in the same workhouse,
vas the missing wife'. Both bodies
i buried in one grave to-day.?
adon Globe.
Norway's seaweed, usei as fuel;
ds a greater revenue than do th?
eries of that country.
h./
THE PULPIT. $
? ci
A BRILLIANT SUNDAY SERMON BY #
THE REV. JASON NOBLE PIERCE gj
i
d<
Subject: The Compassion of Jesus, n
' h
?tl
Brooklyn, N. Y.?In Puritan Con- lr
gregational Church Sunday the pas- m
tor, the Rev. Jason Noble Pierce, w
preached on "The Compassion of sl
Jesus." The text ,was from Luke
7:13: "And when the Lord saw her C1
He had compassion on her and said aI
unto her, weep not." Mr. Pierce said: **
I hpve taken'as my subj^t this 8f
morning one of the most beautiful 123
and comforting themes in the Bible. tc
"The Compassion of Jesus." If there C(
is any one present in this congrega- tc
tion who has been experiencing trial w
and suffering, or who has been called
upon to bear some grievous burden
or sufTer loss, I ask his attention, es- N
1_11.. A* a _ j ?t ?v.ln tt
peuittiij, lu luc v;uuoiuci anuu ui vuao
theme. And if there is any cfhe here 8<
who would make more sure of God's w
personal love for His individual chil- C?
dTen, let him discover that love as it hi
is revealed in the compassion. ?f His '
Son, our Lord-and Saviour:"* ?*
Briefly but clearly the author CJ.
our Gospel presents the scene: Behold,
there was a dead man carried
out, the only son of his mother, and ai
she was a widow; and much people G
of the city was with her." From our ?
text we know that she was weeping, hi
and well she might, for death leaves n<
a smarting sting. This was not tfie w
first time she had faced death in the a
inner circle of her home. She was a w
widow. But how\often does the los- w
iijg of one member of the family 81
make it any easier to partrwlth an- ?
other,, especially when it is an only ^
son, a'young man, and probably the
main support and stay of his wid- fl(
owed mother? Circurmrtancefe seemed
to conspire to make,the occasion full "
of greatest sorrow foiiher. and as the
procession passes through the city "ct
gate ana turns lowara me lur.vmg -ground
the burning fears course ?
down her cheeks and she sees naught,
feels naught,, knows naught but the t*
grief that is in her heart. C(
Of all the helpless ones in Israel U
she, passing out of the gate, was most j?
helpless. And that was the very hour
the mightiest one in all Israel drew tt
nigh to the city. Weakness and r<
strength; human need and divine tt
help; these are never far separated. ei
But will the divine grace become op- B
er&tive? Will the Saviour act? cl
"When the Lord saw her He had .F
compassion on her and said unto her, , ^
Weep not. And He c?me and touched
the bier; and they that bear him H
stood still. And He said, Young man, w
I say unto thee, arise. And he that
was dead sat up and began to speak.
And He delivered him unto his n<
mother." tt
Halleluiah! What a Saviour! v
If the Issue could be avoided 'I tj
would gladly pass over a discussion 0
of the miracle involved in this lesson. tr
But how can I? If I assume that you 01
I oil A/irtonf fVia TYtfranloei tn S?
Utl ovvoyv W4iV *-U AI HV1UB WWVk * WV? VW
Jesus, I make a false assumption, for m
I know from personal conversation 81
that some of you have questionings h<
and uncertainties in your mtnds. If al
I could separate the question of Jesus'
compassion from His (miracles I J<
; might do that. But how can I? H
Everywhere *in the Gojspeis where U
Jesus' compassion is referred to it is
in coimec?ldn with Bome miracle. His cc
was got an inactive compassion. He P?
did not do as so many of us do, allow st
our sympathy to vent itself in empty
air. His great heart matle demands
upon a great power, and the sight of 1?
sorrow ever made Him exert Himself ri
for its relief. Four times does St. a
Matthew and four times does St. I*
Mark refer directly to Jesu3' compas8ion,
and upon each occasion do we F
find Him working a miracle. St. ol
Luke speaks directly concerning the w
compassion of our Lord only once re
and that is in our text The subject se
demands our attention. . k:
There are some men who are not ti
greatly troubled concernjtfg the njira- tc
cles. They sweep them all in or all H
out of their theological acceptance fe
with no hard thinking or penetrat- ei
ing vision. Their theological house se
is one of the portable variety, cheap- fo
lv hrmerht. read!? made, ouicklv tt
clapped together over a foundation fo
of sand. It may serve on a fair day,
but when the test comes how Is it? ta
The rain descends and the floods come b<
and the' winds hlow and. beat upon Fi
that house; and it falls; and great is ei
the fall of it. * * ht
One of the safeguards of the church P*
Is the number of thinking men and P<
women within it, who concentrate A
not only their hearts, but their minds P*
unto the Lord, 'and whov meditate Gi
upon Him in the night watdhes. And w
to all such comes sooner or later the d(
question of the miracles. We wres- n(
tie with these miracles, we pray over se
them, we come to some conclusion fo
concerning them and our conclusions in
are not always alike. m
There are some who discriminate es
among the miracles." Those they can ne
explain through understood laws they a[
accept; the rest they hold in abey- wi
ance. Some of the most consecrated w
and loyal followers of the Master are h<
among these disciples. ca
And there are those also who be- la
licve that through Je|us were done gi
many mighty works. I am of this
mind. This does not mean that we 01
give unqualified approval to alF that It
Jesus was said to have done. His is tu
+ + nn It t* 4a f O
uuij luoiaiito uu icwiU| 14 1 u 10 ?v
so, that all that was said of Him is w:
true. But it does mean that through nc
Him deeds were donfe that the humarf be
mind does not yet understand. It
does not mean that Jesus did these
mighty works in His own strength
and of H1b own knowledge. "I can ,
of mine own self do nothing," He d
laid, "but the Father that dwellethin
Me, He doeth the works."
And the number of {hinking men 0
who hold this belief is fast increasing.
not through an increase of faith r?
by itself, but through an increase of ln
experience. The metaphysical world
is yielding up her secrets one by one; de
and we are discovering that there is
a relationship between the seen and "c
the unseen of which our fathers only 10
dreamed Mirarles are daflv taking ar
place through human agency co-oper- th
atlng with the laws of God. And It
Is because we are coming to better "
understand the Inter-relation of Pe
forces and the amazing consequence da
of certain causes, that we turn to the "ll
Gospels and read with deeper insight fa
and larger faith of the mighty-works I
of Jesus.
But I call your attention this morn- Fc
ing not to the miracles themselves, ?(
but to their cause; not to an analysis an
of their accomplishment, but to the en
discernment of that which called
them forth, the corppassfon of Jesus.
Often the crowd gathered about
Jesus and demanded some marvelous
work, * sign from heaveu. He re- fa
fused them. Men came to Tlim seek- ur
ing to enlist His power for their sel- de
fish ga#i, but they always departed
cadder and wiser men. Nothing
could tempt Him to make a show or
win the crowd through the marvellous.
But when He saw people in en
need or In sorrow, or guttering, when ?p
Id He ever turn them away? How
nick was His response! How sufflient
in power! His maxim was,
They that are whole have no need
f the physician^ but they that are
ck."
When the multitude penetrated the
jpert whither He had gone for retiretent
and needed rest, when He beeld
their desire for Him and knew ,
le hunger and heart sicknew that
npelled them to seek Him, "He was
toved with compassion on them beluse
they were scattered abroad as
leep having no shepherd."
when the blind and the demented (
led unto Him, the Lord of Light
ad Spirit was mighty in deed. When
le leper of Galilee knelt before Him '1
tying, "If Thou wilt Thou canst
lake me clean," His heart was
>uched. "And Jesus, moved with
impassion, put forth His hand and j
luched him and salth unto him, I .
ill; be thou clean."
Oh, the mighty love of Jesus! It
et that dear mother'at the gate of I
ain and did for her what none in all
le city could do, restore to her her
>n. Can any of you Imagine the ^
onder and joy unspeakable that
ime to her when Jefeus' delivered
1m to her? - 'J
One of the striking characteristics
f the compassion of Jesus is its inusiveness.
It knows no bounds. ,It
aes out to the multitude and to the
idividual, to the stranger as freely *
i to the friend, to the Jew and to the
entile. His heart went out for tha
ty and He wept over It and His *
eart went out to the lone woman In ^
eed of a Saviour. The one essential "
as that there exist a grief, a burden, t
sorrow and immediately His help j
as forthcoming. Where the ' sick *1
ere. gathered by their friends, or v
mong the porches by the pool where ?
le impotent lay, there was Jesus to 1
[ess. No custom delayed Him, no J
>ar for life* nor weariness of the *
ash restrained Him, but freely He c
ilnistered unto all who called upon c
im. ' ^ r
Another characteristic of' Jesus' 1
impassion is its attitude toward evil. F
e does not*tell the blind man that '
is .best for him to remain blind, nor a
oes He point out to the leper that
lere are compensating blessings that ?
>me through his affliction. His ac- 1
on is rather to strike at the evil that C
mcnnnalhlo fnr +Via1i? iHnn T t
Eire say that He could have visited
ie widow of Nain and through His 1
ivelatlon of the heavenly home and C
le Father's love He could have light- a
led her heart of much of 16b sorrow. 1
ut His way was that of the most In- F
sive action against the cause of her c
rief. Affliction and sorrow and pain v
re not regarded by Jesus as divinely
snt nor to be unnecessarily borne. 8
e opposed them. He threw 'the P
eight of His teachings and life 1
jainst everything that tended to pro- d
ace them. He set a priceless value 1
ot only upon human life, but upon s
ie liberty that life was to enjoy, and P
rerytbing that bound and dwarfed 1
lat liberty He fought unto the end. c
h, what a judgment upon this coun- e
y, where human life is held so
leaply, where men perish by thoumds
upon the railroads and in the
ines, where grinding industrial life
veeps pinching poverty Into the S
smes, where selfishness and pleasure
low disease and suffering to spread F
it and wide with ravaging hand! ?
38us fought this misery and gave ?
lmself unstintedly to unburden the *
ves of men. *
And now in approaching the final ?
msideratlon of this theme it Is lm- 8
srtant that we bear in mind the "
eps thus far taken, for they have an ?
mediate bearing upon what is to a
illow. We have seen that Jesus was ?
. fullest sympathy with all who car- !:
ed a burden, and that all such found '
way of approach to Him at all times. 7
f the second place, we have seen ?
tat He was In such accord with His r1
ather in heaven that the mightiest *
! works were possible unto Him and ^
ere accomplished through Him to j"
rtieve human sorrow. And we have _
sen, too, that His loving compassion *
new no bounds, that it embraced ?
ie individual as-well as the multi- ?
ide, that It left no one with whom *
e came in contact outside His af- *
ction. And lastly, we have consid-f J
ed the fact that Jesus opposed Him- *
ilf to evil in whatever form it was
mnd, and regarded pain and affllcon
as enemies to be trodden under
lOt. ' (,
Dear friends, while we have been 1
Iking about Jesus we have in reality I
Jen talking about our heavenly
ather. While we have been consid- t
ing the compassion of Jesus we f
ive been discussing the loving comission
of God. The former is the *
jrfect manifestation of the latter.
U that has been said of Jesus' com- *
ission I now assert to be true of/j,
od's love. If there is any one here t
ith a burden, a heavy sorrow, a hid;n
grief, let me tell you that you do t
)t bear it alone. - It may have
emed ofttimeg that the Father had ,
rgotten you or had overlooked you t
the multitude, but the very mo- .
ent that t&e hour has been dark- _
t is thef time He has been most
>ar. He has always kept the way of .
xproach open, which is more than
e can say for ourselves, and often
hen our ear heard not and our ^
?art inclined not His yoice has been a
.lllng "Come unto Me, all ye that o
bor and are heavy laden, and I will I
ve you rest." s
Nor has He overlooked one. No 1
ie is beyond the reach of His love, t
may have been long ago that you s
rned aside from Him and you may a
el that you are indeed a stranger t
Ith no claim upon Him. But it is e
)t so. His compassion is without
>und.
Life and Death. e
Love is life, and lovelessness is ?
;ath. As the graco of God changes
man's heart and cleanses and sane- ,
3es him, this Is the great evidence {
the change, this is the great differ- "
ice which it makes: that he begins >
grow in love, to lay aside self-seek- *
g, and to live .for others?and so he
ay know that he has passed from
:ath .unto life. #
He may know it even here arid
>w?yes, that great discovery of ?
v6, that learning to live for others 11
id feeling the grace and gentleness s
at God is keeping up all over the s
arid?even now it changes homes, ?
lightens every ouraen, it Brings
ace and gladness Into the hardest
lys; it alters even the tone of a e
an's voice and th v^ry look of his
ce: but all this, bu ssed and sur.ssing
as it is. far above all else in d
e world, still is but the beginning.
>r that life into which we pass, as ,,
id's dear grace of love comes in us
d about us, is the very life of Heav.?Francis
Paget. w
T3!
? i,
Unwise and Unlovely.
If you desire to confess your own
ults, do so humbly, but it is an
iwise and unlovely thing to conmn
or scold others. ,
lc
? 01
An Impossibility.
You cannot expect men to reverce
a religion wheu they cannot reect
its followers. ti
.-. >A ' >' ' .' / i '," '> - ' ' V -V
. / * ; '
VA\(jM5oVff /or nty daljy ranfttf 11
Y?Vx#mon& rhe ptoajanf fields jm 1
(? <;\t Holy Wrif I J
? ^ ?Ttniysorvj $ ,
&vJv>~? txss* ! 'v ' '" ""W,
' \ LOVE.
) I&d, I am not brave, great truths to
speak,
T om riftf Tin do?fViA ol?onf!/* 4-/\ 4coil T*o
i.nd oh. I am not strong, to help Thy
weak,
Nor rich, that I could much relieve Thy
poor. 'L.
Jut, Father, I would serve Thee in some
way,
I miarht seek out for Thee some wan*
d'ring sheep:
"or some of Thy dear tempted ones, might
pray,
Or with Thy weeping ones my heart
might weep.
?bou wilt not care, I know, how small n\y
task.
Although Thou rulest all the stars above;'
?he thing supreme, that Thou of me dost
ask.
Is, that the prompting of my heart be
love.
-Mrs. Frank A. Breck, in Home Herald.
The Children of the Good. '
, It is frequently a matter of remark
hat the children and successors of
joodly people do not manifest the
ervent piety and love which marked
heir fathers. And people sometimes
nveigh against this manifestation of
he degeneracy of the times in which
re live, says H. L. Hastings, in an
irticle on apostasy and degeneracy.
311 f (f i'r nnaoHtla 4-Viof +T*iair
;ut iv 10 ^vgoiuio tuau vuoj viiuva
ink fact, which, if recollected, would
ulty explain the evils of which they
omplain. The one vital fact bearing
in this question is, that righteousless
or piety is not hereditary. No
nan, however igood or gracious his
arentage may have been, is born so
fell that he does not need to be born
gain. Religion is not transmissable
iy descent. Hence, the entire ^ork
if regeneration, conversion or renewng
of heart and life, has to be re^
ieated with each successive generaion.
It was vain for the Jews to say.
We have Abraham for our father."
t equally vain for us to boast of
iious ancestors, and saintly fathers
nd mothers, when the only thing
hat ca'n save the children of the best
iarents is a thorough conversion to
lod and a personal acquaintance
rith the Lord Jesus Christ.
We are upt therefore to think it
trange that the children of good peole
go wrong, or that they fail to manfest
the fervor and faith of their .prelecessors.
We are to look to God for
he renewal and salvation of our offpring,
knowing that unless they reent
and find salvation they will surey
perish as though they were the''
hildren of the vilest sinners that
ver lived.
Prayer. 7
Go not, my friend, into the danger's
world without prayer. You-kneel
town at night to pray, and drowsiless
weighs down your eyelids; a
lard day's work is a kind of excuse,
nd you shorten your prayer, and reign
yourself softly to repose. The,
oorning breaks, and it may be you
ise late, and so your early devotions
re not done or are done with irregtlar
haste. No watching unto prayrful
wakefulness onrie more omitted,
nd now is that reparable? We sol*
mnly believe not. There has been
hat done which can not be undone,
fou have given up your prayer, and
;ou will suffer for it. Temptation is
'efore you, and you are not ready to
aeet it. There is a guilty feeling on
be soul, and you linger at a distance
rom God. It is no marvel if that
lay In which you suffer drowsiness to
nterfere with prayer be a day in
rhlch you shrink from duty. Mo
aents of prayer intruded on by sloth
an not be made up. We may experence,
but we can not get back the
ich freshness and strength' which we
irrapped up in those., moments.?
Frederick W. Robertson.
The Argument of Oar Longing.
This heart-hunger for God, which
5 the deepest reading of human his*
ory, is a tacit argument for that
rhich will supply it. We expect corespondence
between an instinct and
hat which will satisfy it, between a
acuity and its object, between a need
,nd its fulfillment. We were made
or God. It is written in every asilration,
and breathed in every prayir;
we were born for the love of God.
to work, no engrossment, or culure
of natural powers, will satisfy a
nan who has once awakened to this
leart-need. Only a faith like -that
xpressed in the great words of St.
Lugustine can satisfy: "Thou hast
uade us for Thyself, and our heart
s restless till it finds rest in Thee."
?Hugh Black.
Irresolution.
In matters of great concern, and
trhich must be done, there is no surer
.rgument of a weak mind that irresilution;
to be undetermined where
he case is so plain, and the necessity
o urgent. To be always intending to
ive a new life, but never to find time
o set about it, this is as if a man
hould put oft eating, and drinking,
nd sleeping, from one day and night
o another, till he is starved and detroyed.?Tillotson.
Supreme Art of Living.
To grow old, patiently, bravely,
iven joyfully?that is the supreme
rt of living. And if you and I are
o ever learn how, we must begin now
/hen life is strong and full of vigor,
mpatience and fretfulness now can
lardly culminate later in serenity and
ontent.
The Prayer That Pen-alls.
Much so-called supplication of God
las such a metallic sound that it is
vident the lips are but an articulatng
prayer machine. The whole being
hould be under tribute in the worhip
of God. "The kingdom of heavn
suffereth violence and the violent
ake it by force. It is the fervent
rayer of a righteous man thai; availth
much.?Philadelphia Methodist.
Freedom from prudence is no evieuce
of faith in Providence.
lean Leaves More Than $1,000,000.
John ID. Dean, a retired capitalist,
ho died on November 10, left an
state valued at $1,270,000, accordlg
to a petition for probate filed in
hicago. The personal property is
alued at $1,000,000. The testator's
)n and four daughters inherit the
reater part of the estate, the widow,
:rs. Suzanna Ella Dean, being aliwed
only $25,000 aud the income
a $50,000.
Belgium Takes Congo.
Belgium has formally assumed c?n el
of the Congo Free State.
i
INTERNATIONA LESSON COM-^
MENTS FOITANUABr 3;
I
! .
Subject: The Ascsion of Our Lord,
Acts 1:1-14?{olden Text, Luke
24:51?Comjt Verses 8, 9?
Exposition o&e Lesson. '
TIME.?Thursd, May 18, A. D.
30. PLACE.?Jefealem and Olivet.
EXPOSITION. I. The Risen
Christ, 1-5. "Ti former treatise"
is the gospel of Ite (Luke. 1:1-4). '
/The subject of ttjgospel was what
Jesus "began" to and teach. The ^
subject of the Bo of Acts is what
Jesus continued tfco and teach (after
His ascension; Just before His
ascension He had'ven the disciples'- *
vvuiiuuuuuiculo vvivian. io'.iv, zu?
Mk. 16:15-19; he 24:45-49; eh.
3,0:40-42). He h:given these commandments,
afteflls resurrection, .
In the power of tWoly Spirit "What
an honor this p! upon the Holx
Spirit, and how itbfrhasizee the im?
portance of His wt (cf. ,1 Cor. 2:4;
1 Tbess. 1:5). Jus was taken up
, "into heaven" (Lt 24:51; cf. 1 Pe- \
ter 3:22). The.l-sufflcient proof
that Jesus rose wthat He was seen
through forty da'after Hia suffer- J
ings and death. < showed Himself |
alive by many prs. "Forty days" j
Is the period (thorough testing J
(Deut. 9:9, l8;iK. 19:8; Matt. J
4:2). During tJforty days^frw^ J
was one subject Conversation, "the j|
things concernimhe kingdom of
God." As the s of communion; ?
with the risen CJt drew to a close
Jesus laid a soleirharge upon them
not to take upje commission of
?X J - ? 1* * - ~ "
nuiiu-yviue ?vit*i2auoa mat, tie
bad laid upon ta until they had-i i*C
received the alliential fitting for
the work, "the piige of the Fath- viler,"
the baptismth the Holy. Spirit . |
(vs. 4, 5; cf. le 24:49). TheK^Tl
were to stay rigJiere in Jerusalem ?;*'
and wait until dued with power i
from on high."
n. The Asding Christ, 6-& I
(Luke 24:60, 5 The mention bf \
''the promise of. Father" seems to <5
have suggested the diBciples the
restoration of *el, so they ask
Jesus if He is)>\it to restore the ,
^kingdom to Isr His answer imVjT&SE
plies that the <dom is some time v.
to be restored traer (cf. Is. 1*2527;
9:7; Jer. t 6; 33:15-25; Ez.
36-2 3-2 8; 37:J6; Ho?. 3:4, 5r
Joel 3:16-21;9:11-15). But'iD
the most emphlway He tells them
that God has rived the knowledge
af times and sjns to Himself (cf.
Matt. 24:36; M3:32. How vaitf and
presumpt\i then for any. man cj
to try to flgamt the time of our xC
Lord's return ?ut. 29:29). Jesus |
turns their ation from the vain t
? j J
i niiciujji. IU uuu iiLucH aLIU. seasons
to their own pnt duty of witnessing
for Him. !en they should resolve
the kin# He does not disclose;
when tbhould receive pown A"t
er He does dis? (vr 8). This power
would be rs when the Holy
Ghost had coupon them CR. V-Jt
They would "nave power until
then. How fdx then for us to try
to work for rist until we have- ;
sought and obed the baptism with
the Holy Ghc The power of the
Holy Ghost ?ot' merely for the
purpose of mg them happy, but
for the purpoi making them "wit- * !!
nesses" (cf. J 4:8-12, 31, 33; 6:
32; 9:17, 20They were to begin
their wltnesi right where they,
were when tSoly Ghost was re-1' ^
ceived?in J?lemj They were to
bo next to thmedfatelv Bthroiind- . -
ing tgrritorjhen to the nearest;?^?
neighbors, tlespised Samaritans,
and thqn on on "unto the utter
most part of earth." ' A true reception
of 'Holy Spirit by the
church mearorld-wide missions.
Immediate!yter speaking these
words, whil<y were looking, Hi* \
feet began five jthe earth. Thi?
was His parmessage to cs. How
we ought to3er It. He had lifted
His hands t<$sthem as He finished the
messagtike 24:50, 51 y. He /
went up wits hands stretched out - '
in benedictind He has been blessing
us ever J. They knew He ascended,
fo?y saw Him clearly.
They saw "until the cloud, the
Sbekinah g took Him out of thetr
sight (cf. 19:9; 34:5; Is. 19:1;
Ps. 104:3) e will be received up
into that < some'day (i Titess. ,-.j
4:17). Hended to appear in the
presence oi in our behalf, to prepare
a plaf us (Heb. 9:24; Jno.
14:2). Hssence there makes us
eternally & (Ro. 8:34; Heb. 7:| r-<
25) and HJsence there now guarantees
ou^sance there hereafter
(Jno. 12:lev. 2:21). j ...
III. Ttturning Christ, 10, 11.
They straiheir eyes to get another
glimps Him and then stood
mere gaj iwu meu 111 wmie
(cf. Mk. ; Luke 24:4, 23; Jno.
20:12; Arf:3, 30) stood by them.
These anwere practical. "Why
stand ye ng into heaven?" they j,
ask. Thee times when it Is right
to look teadfastly into heaven
(ch. 7:58t there are times when .
duty call# earthward look. The
right thir the disciples to do just
now waso just what Jesus had
bidden tlvs. 4, 12). The two in ;
white gi glorious promise to
cheer th-iples and make it easy
for thenleave that spot; Jesus
was comack again. Not another
Jesus, ttbis Jesus" which was
taken up them. He was to come
just as ent. personally and visibly
(th?k is very emphatic and
cannqt snestly reasoned away)j
(cf. Re?; Luke 21:7; 1 Thess:
4:16; P:20, 21; Heb. 9:28; Jno. f
74:3: 54:8: 2 7:7-?<)).
- j
<;afom Bear by Bride.
T. J. rson returned to Denver,
Col., fris honeymoon with both
arms iDOg- Three weeks ago he
marrieds Blanche Phillips, of
Laratni'O-. and they went on a
huntin? near Kalispel, Mont.
Eckers'unded a she bear which
had tws, ana tnere was troume. (
The b'oom clubbed his rifle- ?
for a between man and bear.
His wjrritd to the sqene and,
placinjmuzzle of her rifle to the
right s^r of the bear, pulled the
triggerall was over. Mrs. Eckerson
I her bleeding lfbsband to>
camD rove him back to KalisoeL
??-?? _
aer in Honduras.
Ame capitalists contemplat?
workitfoncession of 8,000 acres
of har>d timber in HonduraB.
Twontes of railway, with spurs, ]
are tc constructed. Shipments
will Me to the United States.
As th<l is cleared, rubber, ba? ,-^H
nana ocoa will be planted. ^
.mk