Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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<jrEZ5H5E5HSES2SE5Z5HSE5H55 ifTHEBNj I By EFFIE ADEL. ? . <ii55Z5ZSaSHSSSasaSH5SSHSH5 CHAPTER XXVI. 17 Continued. For the next few days Dorothy seemed better. Dr. Waters had made a circuit of her room and cleared away every narcotic and opiate he could find, telling Virginie to throw them away. "Now, Lady Derriman, listen to me," he said, kindly but sternly, "this sort of thing must never be resorted to. Your nerves are of course unstrung by recent events, but a series Df opiates are not likely to do them any good at all?in fact, just the reverse." Dorothy listened quietly and made no reply, but after he was gone and she was quite alone she went swiftly to that dainty stand, and took out the glass bottle she had used before. "If they won't let me have opium, [ have got my brandy!" she said, exultantly, and she swallowed a small quantity without a shudder of repugnance. The night of the dinner party had left its trace behind. Gervais was not the same; he was disturbed and vaguely miserable, though about what he could not say; but hetfound himself narrowly watching his wife, and there was much in that occupation that gave him cause for uneasiness. It was piercingly cold, and all hunting had come to an untimely end by the advent of a black frost, followed by a heavy fall of snow. The police were still searching for the suspected man, but could find no single trace, and at last the whole thing was beginning to lapse into an impossibility. By common consent the matter was allowed to drop out of the conversation at Bromley, for Gervais found that Dorothy's strange moods were Increased by mention of it. So the days drifted on, and Christmas drew near. , Mrs. Baker had departed to her home, but George Laxon's child remained behind in the care of a kind. motherly woman, who took an extra interest in the poor, afflicted creature because of the tragedy that survounded it. Gervais, as he told Enid, expected fcis mother to be with them two days kefore Christmas Eve; and just when his heart was yearning to see the sweet, noble face that had ever been aear him, something occurred to drive her and all else from his mind. He had insisted upon Dorothy taking good rest in the middle of the day, ever since that memorable evening; and one afternoon, as she was alone in her room, a sudden longing came over him to go to her, to see her as he had seen her before that time, his own dear, beautiful one. He ran up the stairs, leaving Dare and Enid in the drawing room deep in a discussion on art, and his heart thrilled fast. As he was passing along the corriilnr V*Q YY>ai UV1 UV XiiW * 41 jjiUlCi "Miladi is asleep, milord,'' she I said. In her hand she carried some let- i ters. "What are those? Lady Derri- J man's? Give them to me. I am | going in." Virginie gave them at once, and then went on her way, just looking back at him with a glance of admiration; for she admired his handsome face and noble bearing. Gervais had his hand on Dorothy's door, when he happened to look down at the letters, and as he did so his brows met in surprise. The top envelope was a dark blue one, on which was scribbled Dorothy's name and address in the most illiterate and impossible of handwriting. Gervais stared at this for another moment, then, without a moment's hesitation, he tore It nnpn *Tt is from rid Joe, no coubt. and will show his innoience, poor fellow! Well, she will forgive me for opening it, I am sure!^ CHAPTER XXVII. For My Sake. A scrap of dirty paper was inside the envelope, and at first Gervais had some difficulty in deciphering the written words, the ink was so pale and the characters so crude. He walked away from the door to a window on the corridor that was fitted up with cushioned seats and curtains like a small room, and throwing the otner letters ne neid on to the velvet bench, he stood with his back to the light and began the task of mastering the contents of this most extraordinary epistle: "Mi ledy, this is to warn you as you'd better send some mony at onct, or it- u'll be nasty for yer. 1 nos to much about you and 'im, and 1 looks to yer to 'elp me now. Don't play me no trix, as I ain't to be fuled, and means to 'ave mony for mi panes. Mony must be 'ere wi'out fale termorrer or nixt day. JIM COTES." Gervais read these lines slowly three times without grasping their meaning, then gradually a horrible, j cold sensation came over him; his heart beat wildly one moment, and nearly stopped the next. Strong man qc VlO u*QC h Ca tromhlorl f foot, and the scrap of paper flutered in his grasp. Some creature had dared to write threateningly to Dorothy, his wife, the woman he loved and had put in his pure mother's place. Threateningly! What did it mean? Slowly, scarcely conscious of what he did, he sank to the see and scared before him at the words that seemed to grow more monstrous each instant. "J nns to much about you and 'im!" Again and again he repeated that sentence to himself, till it beat in his brain and made the hot passion of his blood surge and swell to nr-idness. "You and 'im!" To Dorothy? SE52SESHSHHH5HSESH5H5H55R). |HELO?ED| HIDE ROWLANDS. I "9 raSH5HSE5B5H5H5HSH5E5ESHtJi^ These words had been written to Dorothy! But let him first be quite sure; perhaps he had made a mistake. With hurried, eager fingers he picked up the envelope and gazed at the rude inscription, then his hand dropped; there was no mistake: "Ledy Deriman,'' was scrawledmas legibly as the characters would permit. Lady Derriman! Dorothy, Lady Derriman!?his wife?to receive such a letter. Was his brain going? His senses faded for a moment, then he became acutely, agonizingly awake. He arose and was slipping the paper into the envelope when he saw that more remained unread, and he drew it out again. "Haddress Mister Jim Cotes, the Bullfinch, Newman's Road, Houndsditch, and send the mony sharp. I ain't noways wishful to wate long." He crushed the hideous letter in his hand, then plunged it in his pocket, and with swift, uncertain steps went back along the corridor ?.o the stairs; his one thought was to get outside in the air; he felt he should suffocate if he remained an instant longer in the house where he had received his cruel blow. All at once he became conscious that he was not alone. Sounds of fleet footsteps on the crisp snow reached him; his eyes refused to turn and look behind him. "If it should be Dorothy," his heart whispered in anguish. "Heaven help me! I am not fit to meet her yet." The steps drew nearer and nearer, and then stopped; a trembling hand was laid on his arm. "Lord Derriman," said a voice, that was low and full of dread and pain. He bit his lip, and almost shook the hand away, but Enid ciung to him. "You?you will get so cold, and? forgive me, but you will attract attention. I have brought your hat and coat, Lord Derriman." "I do not want them," he answered, in a dry, hard way. "I am not afraid of the cold." "You are in trouble," Enid said, as firmly as she could speak. "I want to help you." He shivered suddenly. "No one can help me," he muttered. "Yes, yes, they can; I can?try me," pleaded the girl. "You have been so good to me, Lord Derriman, I?I cannot bear to see you suffering?" Gervais turned and looked at her. Her pure, pale face was more fragile than ever, but a new expression? a strong, powerful, sympathetic expression?shone in her glorious eyes. sne seemea to mm tnen more a ministering spirit than a woman. He plunged his hand into his pockets and drew out tho crumbled letter; her eyes seemed to magnetize him. ' Then, if you can help me," he said huskily, "read that and tell me what I must do. You think that I am mad; see if that is not enough to kill me, body and soul altogether?" Enid took the paper. She had grown a shade whiter, and her lips felt as cold as ice to herself. Her fingers almost refused to hold the letter, but she forced herself to do it, and read the insolent words with a heart as heavy and cold as though no life remained in it. Gervais watched her in a dull, wretched fashion. "Poor child," he thought for a moment as Enid was silent, simply because she had not strength to use her voice. But as knother moment was born her courage and power returned to her. "This?this letter is not meant for Dorothy!" she said in faint but clear tones. Gervais bent toward her eagerly; his every pulse thrilled, every nerve quivered. "Not meant for Dorothy?" he repeated in so low and husky a voice that she could barely hear it. "No'"?Enid's left hand fell by her side; she clinched her fist as though the last bitter blow had yet to fall? "no," she said, deliberately, "it?is? for me!" Gervais half staggered back. "For you?" he said, choked with the flood of emotion that rushed into his throat?"for you?" "Yes, for me. This is a secret I? I can not reveal to you, Lord Derriman. I?I hoped it would have been?" Lying was not easy for Enid; she broke off and Gervais thought she did so from shame and fear. He took a deep breath and passed one hand over his brow; the agony he endured was fading slowly, but he was in an unsettled, troubled state, and be could not grasp the full meaning of her words just at first. Enid stood before him, looking down at the letter and quivering in every limb. If only he would speak, and let her know her sacrifice had not been in vain. The silence grew too oppressive; she felt she must break it. "You?you do not despise me?" she asked, feebly. "I do not,understand it all yet," Gervais replied, still with his hand pressed to his eyes; "the letter is addressed to Dorothy, and you say?" "Halloo! a pair of conspirators!" laughed a genial voice that made there both start; "what on earth aVe you standing out here for, Derriman? Miss Leslie, you will be frozen." Gervais' hand dropped and Enid gave a little cry; then she turned to Dare Brougnton?she must make him understand the horrible difficulty and so help her. "Lord D?rrlrr:',.*\" r.lle said, with a little catch in her breath, "you do not quite believe me; perhaps that is natural; but here is one who will bear me out. Mr. Broughton"?her eyes sought his and made his heart flinch at the agony in them?"is it not true I that I?I have a secret? You remem| ber my telling you about it?"' Dare's ; brows met, but her eyes held him fast and commanded him by their misery. "Did I not say that some day my peace and happiness would go, and I should be disgraced? Answer, so that Lord Derriman may know that ?that he is wrong In doubting any one but me!" "Dare, for Heaven's sake, speak! Is this true?" Gervais broke in wildly. Dare hesitated a moment; he had no knowledge of what this mystery meant, but he saw that Enid was de? nouncing herself to screen another person, and that she called on him to help her, as he had wished she might do that first day he ever saw her. "This is a horrible position, but I suppose I must speak, Miss Leslie. You are right," he said, slowly, and with much difficulty. "And you gave my wife's name a3 your own?" said Gervais, looking at Enid with contempt and disgust. "You dared to do this thing?" "Yes," she faltered, shrinking from the cold, cruel gaze of his clear eyes. "I?I dared to do it." Gervais waited a moment. "I have nothing more to say to you, Miss Leslie, except that I should prefer that my wife did not come too much in contact with you. I thought you so frank, so pure and good, and I find you false and deceitful. Whatever your shameful secret may be, it is nothing to me; but you must see for yourself that Lady Derriman's house can be your home no longer! " With that Gervais pushed past the girl's trembling form, and Dare's upright one with the dark face dyed crimson with indignation and pain at these words, and strode quickly away. Enid gave a little cry and buried her face in her hands as he went. "Miss Leslie! Enid! What does this all mean? In Heaven's name, tell me all, for I confess I do not comprehend one single scrap of it!" Enid lifted her face; it was tearless, but as white as the snow around them. "It means that I have saved him from the blackest despair, the most awful misery. Heaven forgive me for telling the lie, but I did it for the best?I did it for the best!" "I see." Dare stooped and took the letter from her icy, cramped fingers, and soon made himself master of the contents, then he drew a deep breath. "My angel!" he said with infinite tenderness, "you've done this to screen your cousin? Oh, Enid, Enid, my darling!" She did not hear his voice or his loving words; her ears were ringing with the horrible ones that Gervais had uttered. He scorned her, pushed her aside with contempt and loathing. Truly the sacrifice was a great onehow great she scarcely yet knew. "He believed me," she said, in a dazed sort of way; "he believed me, and?they will still be happy. It would have been so terrible if he had thought it true." Dare took her two small hands in his. "Think of yourself a little, my dear one," he said, tenderly. "Remember your future. What are you going to do?" " wnat am i going to cio/" Jbnia repeated, slowly; then more hurriedly: "I am going away at once?this very afternoon. Please let me go, Mr. Broughton. I must be quick; it is late. You?you were very good i.o help me just now." Enid was crying bitterly; the tears were stealing down her cheeks. "Leave me," she whispered,brokenly; *'I?I will come directly." He wrapped the warm plaid closely round her, and looking back as he turned obediently away, he saw that she was shaking with the passion of sobs that came from her broken heart. His arms longed with an inexpressible longing to draw her to his heart, and so hold her clasped against all sorrow, but he restrained himself, and despite his bitter disappointment, made no further effort to press his suit. It was unmanly, he thought, to urge it while she was so agitated and weak. "I will wait for you by the gate," he said, gently. To be Continued. i Women na nhemistfi. "It is inexpedient publicly to encourage women to adopt chemistry as a professional pursuit." In this concise way is expressed the view of those members of the Chemical Society of Great Britain who disapprove of the proposal to allow women to become members. Out of 3400 papers read on personal researches during the last thirty-five years, only twenty-three have been contributed by women alone. There is a growing desire, howeyer, on the part of many of our leading scientists to admit women chemists to membership, and, as the wish has met with the strongest opposition from other members, the question 1b being put to a ballot. Mme. Curie is at present the only woman member, and she has been made merely an "honorary fellow, with neither voting powers nor eligibility for office on the council.? London Daily Mail. liandits Disarm Soldiers. When traveling hy train rrom Oroya 10 Lima, in Peru, the passengers were held up at Galera, 15,000 feet up in the mountains, by a fully armed band, -who took some of the travelers as hostages. Fifteen soldiers who were in the train were disarmed, four being wounded and one shot in cold blood because he would not hand over his rifle to the miscreants. m Red Trousers. According to the Figaro red trousers are now the rage among young men on holiday in th3 southwest of France. The upper garments are a matter of comparative indifference, but on the tennis lawn, the beach or the esplanade the trousers must be red of some sort, wine color and scar let beinj; permitted as variations.? Pall Mall Gazette. Ko Keys For Barrooms. According to a decision by the State's attorney and the counsel to the Police Board of Baltimore, the hotelkeepers of that city, under the liquor law passed by the last Legislature, will have little use for the keys to their barrooms. They can sell liquor at almost any time. 1? The Put/o/t I A SERMCN ' ? 0/ T/iE r&/~ mSfeJg \$X\/- /iENDEI^ofJ^^ifF* (Written In Jerusalem by the eloquent Brooklyn divine and writer, now in the Holy Land, devoting months to research and 6tudy.) Subject: Nazareth. Text: "And Nathanael said unto bim, Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Nazareth nestlea among the hills. And as you come upon It over the last brow of the rolling country that lies between the town and the coast, the eye is delighted with the simple beauty and quiet grandeur of the spot. It is a fit stage for the setting of the earliest scenes in the life arama of the woodworker's apprentice whose divine mission it was to mediate the knowledge of the love of God for men. Here, in the lower highlands of the Galilee, inspired with a daily vision of the holy heights of Carmel, upon whose summit another and an caiuci iiic&QCUgci nau Laugui IUC truths of God; face to face with the martial memories of out-stretched Megiddo, gifted with an easy view of the snow-capped tops of Hermon, in the midst of Gentile influences, neighbor to the zealous, patriotic Galilean Jews; on the highroad across which traveled the wealth and information and culture of Greece and Home; to the east the sea and to the west the ocean; here Christ spent that youth of which we know so little and that must have meant so much. You may see at Nazareth a glorious picture conveying an artist's impression of the Holy Boy at work. You may enter, under the ruins of an obviously ancient, immense Crusaders' church, a rock hewn room about which traditions had become entwined. You may sit inside the synagogue where "He stood up to read," in which "filled with wrath," "they rose up" against Him. If so Inclined you may endeavor to discover the location of "the brow of the hill" over which, with true Galilean dispatch and temper, they tried to "throw Him down headlone." But none of these things, interesting as they may be, is so calculated to impress the mind and to warm the heart ' as the landscape of which this shrinecity is the centre. As you look about you, with a knowledge of contemporaneous conditions in the time of our Lord, you wonder, not, after the manner of Nathanael, how could "any good thing come out of Nazareth;" but how could any high souled young man living under the spell of an identical environment help being less than a prophet to his people. Nazareth is the sort of place in which we would imagine the boyhood of Christ to have been spent, even as the lifejeoparding Galileans were the kind of men Jesus needed to constitute the early company of His disciples. It is no wonder that He hastened to the succor of the distressed at Mnln nr thnf TTp wnq familiar with the Scripture as a boy. For toward Nain He was indebted for many a charming outlook which must have endeared the place and its inhabitants to His heart. Born in Bethlehem He must h.ive had, at twelve, no inconsiderable knowledge of that town and its environment, actual and historical; while the region about Nazareth and the countrysides visi- j ble from the elevation to the northwest of Nazareth were peopled with I memories, suggestive, enriching, en- j larging, impelling. To the south lay | the entrance to the valley of Jezreel, i heavy with stories of Saul and Ahab, of warfare and slaughter, of the vine- j yard of Naboth and the chariot of Jehu, of perfidious Jezebel and the dogs which ate her, of Elijah the Tishbite. To the southwest, Meglddo where Ahaziah died. To the southeast, Endor. Over yonder was Lebanon; towards the west, the waters of the ships of Tarshish. Here Rome and Greece; worshipers on Gerizim and Moriah; the past, the present, and the future; causes and probabilities; history and prophecy; the culture, the tendencies, the hopelessness, and delinquencies of an age, were gratuitously open to the student oJ the life of men. Was it not indeed a fitting land and a proper school? Bethlehem was a gracious cradle, Nazareth was a university. As th< Judean city of David gave Him His urtnVi e%r\ n / ? AUDI, IICOU Ui camo, DV tliO ucopiocu city on the Galilean hillside afforded Him first, refreshing, augmenting in. spirations. Here His soul began tc breathe, His mind to frame the relig. ious and moral philosophies that the Father shot into His soul. In the midst of the fields and valleys, the rocks and vineyards, the woods and orchards, elevations and high places, the suns and rains and clouds and dews and streams and droughts, the' r.tars and moonlight, the joys and sufferings, the virtues and the sins of this locality which owes its fame to Him, His spotless heart was stirred by Him whose evangel He was. The men who tried to kill Him by throwing Him down hill achieved thereby an everlasting notoriety of a somewhat Impersonal character. Thf teaching that He proffered and thai they refused is the sublimation of di? vine revelation. When they rejected the Master they made it easier fol His disciples In every age to endure indifference. When that community turned a deafened ear to the wisdom of God in Jesus they gave heart tc every prophet and servant of God forevarmore. And as, from the height which Jesus often must have climbed with youthful ardor, we look down upon the modern village, the narrow streets are filled with other faces, the spirits of a host who have lived within and traveled to these sacred precincts rise to greet us, and we hear a voice which says with infinite sweetness and assurance, "The Spirit of the Lord ia upon Me!" ; IRA W. HENDERSON. Jerusalem, June 15, 1909. He that trusteth in his own heart is A. fnnl1 hut whoso w.nltptVi wicolv 'id shall be delivered. Liberty. O Liberty, Liberty, what matchless blessings thou conferest on those who win thy companionship! How can one bear to live -without thee! How can anyone be so selfish, having himself once known thy glorious privileges, as not to burn with a generous ardor to make them known to 1 all men??William R. Alger. The Finer Feelings. The finer feelings are like the wind; men know not whence they come nor whither Ihey go.?Rev. Dr. 1-Ii Ills, The Sunday=School INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR SEPTEMBER 12. Subject: Close of Paul's Third Mis- i sionary Journey, Acts 21:1-17?i j Golden Text: Acts 21:14?Com- ! mit Verses 13, 14?Commentary, j TIME.?A. D. 58. PLACES.?Tyre, Caesarea. EXPOSITION.?I. Seven Days at i Tyre, 6. When Paul reached a cit]/ | he at once looked up the disciples in ; it. He longed to impart to them j some spiritual gift (Rom. 1:11), and to be comforted In them (Rom. 1:12. i R. V.). Any one who was a disciple of his Lord Jesus was, because of that fact, an object of Paul's tender affection and interest. Do all Christians to-day in their travels keep a sharr. lookout for the disciples of Christ in the cities they visit, and hunt them ! up, with eager love and desire to help ! them? A'seven days' stay seems tc | have been quite the customary thing with Paul (ch. 20:6, 7; 28:14). Paul | did set foot in Jerusalem. Was the | Spirit, then, mistaken? (v. 4). Not in j the least. These men spoke "through j the Spirit," i. e., it was what the : Spirit said to them that led them to r speak to Paul. But they were not 1 wise interpreters of the Holy Spirit's j teaching. Doubtless what the Holy Spirit testified to them was what He | lestmea in every city, viz., mat Donas : and afflictions awaited Paul (ch. 20: 23; cf. vs. 10-12). They could not : endure the thought, and so they put j their own construction on the Spirit's [ teaching, and nut it int* their own : words and said "he should not set ! foot in Jerusalem" (R. V.). There j are those to-day who would have us ! believe that this is the kind of inspir- ! ation we have in the Bible?that the I Spirit gives "the concept," but apos- j ties and pronhets put this Spirit-giv- ; en "concept" into their own words. , We see from this passage h?>w unre- ! liable a revelation the Bible would be i if this were the mode of its inspira- j tion. It is not (1 Cor. 2:13, R. V., I Am. App.). When the Spirit teaches j us, we need to be careful to give out j precisely what the Spirit gives us, and I not our inferences from it. or we also "through the Snirit," will teach error. Paul had won the heart of every man. woman and child in the church of ?yre. We are apt to lose sight of the exceeding lovableness of this man Paul. He was so much else that was great that we lose sight of his gentle winsomeness (cf. ch. 20:37, 38>. One can almost see that company of men, women and children grouned about Paul, all kneeling and all praying. It was no emnty prayer. That united prayer doubtless got what It sought. It brought down from God blessing for Paul and blessing for the church of Tyre. It always means much when a company of true disciples kneel together in believing, simple and definite prayer. This was a model leavetaking (cf. ch. 20:36). The sixth verse gives us a suggestive sentence. Our earthly guides and helpers are separated from us, but there are two heavenly guides who always abide < with us (Matt. 28:20; Jno. 14:16, : 17). Happy is the man whose trust i is in them and not Id man. II. Many Days In Caesarea, 7-14. These verses give us a glimpse of several very gifted persons in the early i church: Philip, his four daughters, i all prophetesses, and Agabus. The church had made Philip a deacon ; (Acts 6:1-6). God had made Philip j an evangelist. God only can make a 1 true evangelist (Eph. 4:11). Philip : had come to Caesarea in his tours ' from city to city, some years before (ch. 8:26, 39, 40). He seems to have made it, from that time, a base ' of operations. He was greatly blessed in his domestic life. He not only had four daughters?yvhich would of it- 1 self be a blessing (Ps. 127:3-5; 128: 3)?but these daughters were all spiritually gifted. Some might think that these children, being women, ought to keep silence in the church, but God evidently thought otherwise. He made them prophets (cf. 2:17). Paul in the very epistle in which he, 1 under the inspiration of the Spirit, ( forbids women speaking under certain circumstances in the assembly (1 Cor. 14:34),; also gives directions ' how women shall prophesy (1 Cor. 11:5). Agabus not only spake "through the Spirit," but he took pains to give the very words of the 1 Spirit, and so he got things exactly right. When a man can truly say, 1 "Thus saith the Holy Ghost," we may ] depend upon the literal accuracy of his words. But many in our day presumptuously dare to say it when it is ] tot true, and their prophecies come to naught, j We do well to be slow in accepting any man's claim to be the mouthpiece of the Holy Spirit. The history of the church tells of , hosts of pretenders of that sort. One foiinrp in their Dronhecies is DIU&1C , , enough to discredit their claims, for , the Holy Spirit never errs. Agabug , did not tell Paul not to go to Jerusa- ; lem, but simply forewarned him of what awaited him there. Paul's < friends, however, sought with ear* nest importunities to dissuade him > from going where God was leading him. It was the Spirit who was lead- ] ing Paul to Jerusalem. Paul had . plainly declared that fact (ch. 20: 22). Yet these foolish friends would dissuade Paul from going, as there was suffering on the way. Many i. think that the path where suffering , lies cannot be the right path, but not so the Lord (Matt. 16:24; 2 Tim. 2: , 12; 3:12). Paul's last journey to Jerusalem was much like his Master's. The same clear vision of afflic- j . tion awaiting him, the same dissua- i sion on the part of friends. Jailed For Treat at Bar. Because he treated a comrade to a I drink of beer, W. T. Zenor. an old I foklier from the Soldiers' Home at Orting., was sentenced to serve a Ihirty-day sentence in the Pierce County jail at Tacoma. Zenor was nn familiar with Washington's nntitreating, anti-tipping laws, and in a burst of generosity bought a drink for O. W. Bunday. A lynx-eyed constable at Orting detected him in the act, filed a charge against him in Justice tl,. j. /viger 5 cuuri, uiiu uraugui uujiu j conviction. Fifty Mules Die in Fire. When the large stable of the Cincinnati Reduction Company, which handles the garbage of Cincinnati, Ohio, burned, fifty mules lost their lives and the collection of garbage was temporarily suspended, while the weather was blistering hot. Two drivers, asleep in the hay loft, were rescued by police. Another German Loan. Despite increased taxes, the Imperial German Exchequer will require the issue of a loan early next year. THE WARFARE AGAINST DRINK TEMPERANCE BATTLE GATHERS STRENGTH EVERY DAY. Science Testifies For Prohibition. The thirty-ninth annual meeting o&the American Society for the Study of Alcohol and Other Narcotics held at Atlantic City indicated a tremendous advance among medical men in their interest in the alcoholic problem. Dr. Kress' paper, on "Grain and Fruits as a Diet," to prevent drinking, was a new phase of the subject which attracted a great deal of attention. Dr. Crothers* paper, on "Tuberculosis and Inebriety," showed a verj close relation between the two diseases. i Every paper read was a tremendous argument for prohibition, although that word did not appear. The discussions which followed showed that the conviction of alcohol being one of the dangerous remedies and drugs is growing rapidly among the profession everywhere. The American Medical Association which met at the same time showed startling evidence of the effects of the alcoholic movement in the banquets and dinners that were given without alcohol in any form. The ex-presidents of the Associa lion ana ineir irienas ceieDraiea their dinner without spirits for the first time in their history, and other associations showed a marked change in public sentiment. Another significant hint was the attention given by the public press to the society for the study of alcohol and its proceedings. All the daily papers in the neighborhood noted what it said, giving it equal prominence .to that of other medical papers. Another significant fact was the local Interest in the churches. A warm invitation was given to the members of The American Society for the Study of Alcohol and Other Narcotics to occupy the pulpits the Sunday before the meeting. This was cheerfully responded to by six physicians who spoke both morning and evening in nearly all the churches. Their addresses were purely scientific and practically a statement of the facts of science concerning the alcoholic problem.?Reported Specially For the Associated Prohibition Press. > "Drinking Increases." From a press diBpatch dated Detroit, Mich.: "Notwithstanding the prohibition wave that has recently swept over the country, there is every reason to believe that the alcoholic habit among business men is steadily on the increase," declared Dr. Frank C. Richardson, oi Boston, in an address before the Society of Neurology and Psychiatrics. The meeting at which this assertion was made was one of the many held In connection with the American Institute of Homeopathy. Dr. Richardson's topic was "The Problem of American Business Neurosis." He declared that the strenuous American business life is producing in many of its followers a neurosis partaking of the character of neurasthenia, psychasthenia and hysteria. The etiological factors in the production of this neurosis, he said, are chiefly continuous mental activity and excessive use of alcohol. Speaking of patients addicted to the excessive use of alcohol, Dr. Richardson said that no fear need be entertained of any physical or mental harm arising from a change to total abstinence. . _ / Discern Ye Not the Signs of the Times? Even to the most superficial observer it must be apparent that tho present crusade against the liquor traffic is rooted in an awakened public conscience, which cannot be appeased until this great moral issue is brought to trial in every State of the Union. The tide of "prohibition is rolling across the continent. Maine, Kansas, Oklahoma, Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, iNortn uaroima?one Dy one me States which have refused to compromise with intemperance and have adopted State-wide prohibition are falling into line. The white banners are thickening. Thus the whisky traffic, first iit one form and then in another, continues to receive the brand of out. lawry and ostracism. Discern ye not the signs of the times??Atlanta (Ga ) Georgian and News. Confessed. The close affiliation between the saloon and the social evil is notorious. It was acknowledged by President Julius Liebman, of the United Brewers' Association, in his address at its annual convention, held in Milwaukee, June 9 and 10, 1908. In the report of that address published in the Brewers' Journal, of New York, July 1, >908, on page 39f< President Liebman is quoted saying: "The abuse of the saloon is marked Dy disorderly and uisreputaDie practices, which are not incidental to the business. We agree with all decent men upon these points: "1. That the saloon should not be used to foster the social evil and should be utterly divorced from it. "2. That the saloon should not be used for gambling purposes. "3. That the saloon should not be open to minors, and that the sale of intoxicants to children should be proscribed." Merely a Dream. The model saloon exists chiefly ill the minds of the editors of liquor journals, and in the imaginations of a certain type of ministers, and in the mythical stories sometimes rehearsed at saloonmen's eampfires. Unfortunately, the average tippling house is a place of ill-fame, a place of shame and debauchery. With comparatively few exceptions our sa loons are houses of drunken men. profanity and obscenity of the vilest possible type.?Wholesalers' and Retailers' Review, liquor paper. Can't Trust the People. It was a strange admission by the liquor men at Sacramento. They said they greatly preferred having the liquor question settled in committee, as they could "not trust the people to vote on the question."? California Voice. The license men themselves, alarmed by advancing public sentiment, have placed f^n the statute books of ^lichtgan what is said to bp the most strict and comprehensive of all legislative acts to "regulate" the liquor traffic. ' ' : . LI. ' ???I 1 Religious Truths\ From the Writings of Great I Preachers. * J j l_ . .. - . -* THE LORD THAT HEALETH. i How can I praise my God aright For all the mercies of the night? How can I bless Him through t'< lay I For love and guidance all the -Ray? How shall I live that He may know i My heart with love doth overflow? That prayers are answered yea or nay? j That 1 am glad in Him to-day? How must I live that He may see Himself alone revealed in me? Lord, teach me how. On bended knee . 'j I yield myself anew to Thee. Give unto this poor heart of mine Sweet fellowship with love divine; Let pain and sickness, sin and care, No longer find an entrance there. Instead, oh send the double cure; Let soul and body both be pure; I plead again Thy "Verily. > I am the Lord that healetn thee." The prayer of faith once cured the bllnd? Let kindred faith dwell in my mind; Then I shall know for surety. "I am the Lord that healeth tnee." ?Annie E. Michener, in the Christian Herald. The Loving Spirit. This is our Lord's answer to thequestion, "How shall I inherit eter-, nal life?" The answer is, "Love as the Samaritan did." You will not receive eternal life as the reward of doing so. in the sense that, having now helped men and sacrificed for them, you shall enter into an eternity lik which you may cease doing so, and live in some other relation to them. Not so. But by loving men thus you hereby enter Into that state of spirit and that relation to your fellow men which is eternal life, the only relation possible. What more can you beasked to do than to love those you have to do with? It is that whlchj will alone enable vou to fill all dntv to! tbem. You need not ask, What Is . due to this man or that, how msch! Bervice, how much assistance, how much substantial help? These arevery useful questions where there 1s 110 love, but they are never sufficient^ and they are, therefore, all summarily dismissed by Paul in his brief ruler "Owe no man anything, but to. Iovs one another"?that is the debt always due, never paid off, Klways renewed, and that covers all others. Yon are* meant to live happily and strongly and sweetly; the relations of society part to part are meant to move assweetly as the finest machinery, and " love alone can accomplish this. It is a mere groping after harmony and order and social well being that we areoccupied with while we try to adjust class to class, nation to nation, mait to man, by outward laws or defined , ! rmcftiAna Mornno Tl pwtjiv.iyud. iuoi vuo iyvuuo( JLS. Determining Each Man's Faith. Every life will have its religion according to its development It to ] folly to look for uniformity in.faith J until ycu have uniformity in the . faithful, until all minds are alike the i things those minds can see must vary. I The religion of the man who think* in the terms of the laws of a universei must he different from that of the ! one who cannot think beyond his din? ! ner pail or his back yard. If religion is the life of ideals, the* power within us that pushes out and on toward the realization in ourr j selves and our conditions of the best ; we know and hope for, then each man's faith will be determined by his* vision and his knowledge; every individual creed will be conditioned by the Individual's stage of culture, i It is folly for the trained mind t? I seek satisfaction In the ideals whose bounds are set by the untrained i mind, just as it equally is foolish for , him to mock at the vision that cheers, the lowlier life. Nearly all the supposed difficulties between science and religion arise from the attempt toforce to a common viewpoint In religious minds that dwell almost a whole universe apart in all the rest of their thinking. Sanctiflcation vs. Fanaticism. In proportion as the heart becomes | sanctified, there is a diminished ten\ dency to enthusiasm and fanaticism. ! A.nd this is undoubtedly one of the , leading tests of sanctiflcation. One of the marks of an enthusiastic and ; fanatical state of mind is a fiery and unrestrained impetuosity of feeling,, a rushine on sometimes verv blindly. : as if the world were in danger, or as If the great Creator were not at the helm. It is not only feeling without a good degree of judgment, but what Is the corrupting and fatal trait?it is feeling without a due degree of confidence in God. True holiness reflects the image of God in this respect as' | well as in others, that it is calm, i thoughtful, deliberate, immutable, i A.nd how can it be otherwise, since rejecting its own wisdom and strength, it incorporates into itself the wisdom and strength of the Almighty.?Rev. Thomas C. Upham. Duty-Doing. The great duty of life is to serve God and men, to render personal service, to give personal sympathy, to be kind and generous and unselfish, to control ourselves and to help others to control themselves; to be faithful with duty-doing wherever we are ana at any cost, to set God first in our lives and to get for Him the first place in other lives. Our material task is the shell. The motives and purposes and spirit of the soul with- 1 in are the life. Enfolded in the material tasks to which we are called is a higher, more enduring work?the love and service of the truth of God. Right Praying. When we pray aright we are communing with the true and only God; when we pray aright our thoughts, aspirations and emotions climb to the j very highest tablelands they are capaj ble of reaching.?Rev. C. A. Buskirk. Shallow Satire. It is a shallow satire which seeks ' fr* rf/M/nilo oil fnrnic mannorc fach | ions, observances, as mere manacles or warts upon the hands of freemen. ?Rev. C. E. Nash. increase m Cancer Cases. A marked increase in the numbei of deaths from cancer in New York State is reported by the State Department of Health at Albany. Id 1885 deaths resulting from cancel totalled 1SS7 and last year the total was 6554. the highest on record, Statistics filed indicate that the fata) cases for 1008 will surpass those foi 190S. After Club Lockers in Kansas. " * Two suits were filed against the Topeka Club, one of the most fashionable in Kansas, to test the right to keep liquors in lockers. I . ' ', 4 t ,'Sj