University of South Carolina Libraries
|^g?88??8S^ CHAPTER V. 8 Continued. These entries like the notes band wore a suspiciously fresh lot ??Trevor had undoubtedly hop< * much from Jacqueline's youth ai Ignorance. In the memoranda mo figures appeared, with such lines the following attached: "Paid Hatton's debts againtwenty thousand dollars. Made u swear secrecy and promised refori For the sake of his wife and childr< I must keep silent." "Hatton losing heavily?poor foo Asked for another loan. Imposslb to tell where this will end. I lo him like a brother, and can deny hi nothing?no, not if he involves m as he is certain to do, in his ov ruin!" "More debt6 of honor. He is lc ing heavily?more loans?" Jacqueline, at the end of her p tience, dashed aside the papers, ai then, for the first time, perceivi that Trevor had entered and w standing beside her. VV till lit: saiu, uavc juu iuui anything that restores your con dence in me?" She looked at him steadily in tl face. "No! These are all forgeries ai falsehoods," scornfully indicating t] books and papers. "Do you expe me to credit lines of figures, unsu ported by any evidence?figures th might have been written five yea or five hours ago?that mean not ing, end prove nothing? And the promissiory notes?the handwritli is not my father's, and the ink up< them seems hardly dry." His face darkened angrily. "You are blindly, wilfully stu , born!" he cried, "you exhaust % forebearance! 'Not content wi thrusting yourself on me here?wi forcing me to tolerate you under n roof, you daie to tell me to my fa that?that?" She finished the sentence for hii "That you are casting calumni ?n tfo dooil oJr rlofaminp' vl tim you destroyed! You ask me believe that which is unbelievabl and I tell you I will not attempt it He grew pale with rage or fear, < perhaps both. "Now our attitude is plainly d fined!" he said. "We are foes, ai need no longer preserve the outwai semblance of friendship. You can to this island to extort money fro me, and failing, you sting me lil the little wasp which you are. Tu tut! You count too much on my o friendship! Remain in your roomI command it!?till you can be r moved to the mainland. I wou gladly take you there to-day, but do not wish to drown you, thouj ?..1J K/v such a laic wuuiu uut uc auugciw undeserved! Bear in mind this fa ?I will neither see. nor talk with yc again!" He waved her peremptorily to tl door. She went out with a firm st< and head held high, but when si reached her chamber she sank d jectly into a chair. "I have failed?signally failed she reflected. "Oh, Doris, he wi never give up our money! Yoi poor Jac has managed this affair wii neither tact nor wisdom?she h; made a terrible mess of it." Jacqueline's fortitude sudden gave way and she burst into tears. CHAPTER VL Por still another day the rain be; and the sea thundered. Jacqueline's obstinacy, her ove weening confidence in her own poi ers were well punished, at last. Shi In her room, she saw do more or tl Trevors. Vic brought her meals, bi "was careful not to linger. "I'm forbid to talk to ynv" sa the girl, "but this I'll say?the stor has damaged the sloop?batter* lier on the rocks and stove a big ho In her. Joe Raby's got to repa damages afore he can go to the ma again. A boat thet he left on tl shore went adrift last night, and he jammed his hand awful hammerii the sloop?you ought to have heai him swear, though! The air w; jest blue! And Peter ? that fo Peter?what do you think? He sa: he's traveled around the world at never seen your like for beauty, ar he wishes the storm would last fo ever, so you couldn't leave this do gone island." Jacqueline stiffene Vic gave her a bright, laughii glance. "I told Peter to keep h zigzag eyes on the moon, and not { straining 'em after born ladies, t.h; wouldn't touch him with the tong Things are gitting awful queer this house, miss." And Vic scar jiered away. Late in the afternoon of the four' aay tne wina aiea out, me ra ceased. A cleft of watery light <j vided the clouds, like a sword. T1 storm was over. From her windo Jacqueline saw Mrs. Trevor come the enclosed piazza and lift her mc ancholy eyes in mule anxiety to tl sky. She wore a trailing white gow and she looked desperately ill ai sad. As the light broke in the we she clasped her white hands ai raised them toward it with an almo prayerful gesture. The passing the storm was plainly a matter <leep import to Mrt. Trevor. A stifling sense of confinome seized Jacqueline?an overwheinii] desire to escape from the house ber enemy and breathe once more 1] uncontaminaterl air. E.r.v.Ist: tl certainly needed. She donned h outer garments, slipped down t] stairs, drew the boll of thr main doi noiselessly and walked out into tl twilight. The salt smell of the sea kjho Jier nostrils?thrilled her with frJorie'tU" tense <>? relief ;>.xd liherl ISLAND^Jl i She gave no thought to the eyes that ] might be watching her movements i from the stone house?no one there, of she thought, would dare interfere ] )k with her personal freedom. She desd scended the rockB, joyous as a pris- 1 id oner escaped from bondage. i re "Now," she said to herself, "I will as see what Deadman's Island is like." i She had not gone far before the J ? character of the place was made plain i ae to her. Grim and forbidding it cer- 1 A ~ ?? t -J 4* WIMMA n# I u. mi my wan, aim h wuic au on wi sn secrecy and gloom, as though the old legend of massacre still overshad1! owed It. On Its southern slope stood le the house; there, too, the early setre tlement had teen planted; but no m trace of It now remained. Eastward, e, the outer clifTs reared bald heads out rn of the leaping surf. The centre of the island was given over to morass is- and thickets of spruce, pierced only by an occasional sheep track. The a- western end culminated In a long id point, called Dragon'B Nose?a mass ed of tumbled rocks and low dense cedar as woods, pushed out into the sea, like the protruding snout of some marine id monster, and often cut off from the fl- main island by high tides. But Jacqueline did not discover all this at hie once, for the brown twilight began to fall, warning her not to venture id too far into an unknown solitude, lie She prudently paused in the shelter set erf some rocks that looked down on p- one of. the few beaches of the island at ?a small clear space, covered with ,rs sand and disintegrated mussel shells, h- Directly a foot, crunched on the se pebbles. In the gathering dusk a ig man appeared, pacing along a bit of m smooth shore and ^winging his walking stick carelessly. Jacqueline rec- 1 ognized Trevor's elegant figure and 1 b- debonair bearing, and shrank inay stinctively into the shadow of the 1 th rocks. Her enemy was also abroad i th for a twilight airing. ly Whistling softly, and with an air ' ce of security and ease, he approached 1 her place of concealment. A great < n. wave of anger surged up in the girl's ' es heart. Safe in his ocean stronghold, :c- he was well able to defy her puny ef- < to forts, and laugh at a day of possible < e, reckoning. John Hatton's daughter !" had been brushed aside as easily as < or some troublesome insect. A wicked impulse seized Jacqueline. 1 e- "Judas!" she shouted, in a voice id .that rose clear and high on the night rd air. s The rocks caught and echoed le the word?tossing it to and fro, till i m a dozen phantom voices seemed re- 1 ie peatlng it to the night. Trevor 1 t! stopped short and looked around. A 1 Id barrier of brown flint hid Jacqueline, ^ ? Again the foul name, synonymous of j t e- tne oiacicesi treacnery ever koowh 10 Id man, divided the silence and hurled I upon him its eloquent accusation. His ;h walking stick clattered down to the er pebbles. He gave a stifled yell? ct staggered?pitched forward. Fright)u ened beyond measure at the success of her ruse, Jacqueline sprang from le cover and fled like the wind, atopjp ping not till she had left the beach le behind her. i e- "He will remember my voice!" was her dismayed thought. "I have now !" made my position in this house tenIll fold worse than ever! But, oh, what jr a scare I gave him! A guilty conth science needs no accuser." as She found herself on the rising ; ground above the pier, and almost bely j fore the hut occupied by the factotum Joe Raby. The skipper himself was not visible, but the door of his dwelling stood open, and offered Jacqueline a full view of the one room at within. A rude bunk was nailed to its wall; a sea chest occupied the cor- 1 r. ner. The red-hot stove flung out a v- grateful heat and a dirty kerosene ] ut lamp flared on the table. A bachelor ' ie establishment. 1 at Jacqueline backed quickly away J | and was caught in the snare nets, 1 id J lobster pots and salt casks that surm rounded Joe's door, and indicated the manner in which the skipper le spent his leisure. ,ir "This way,-miBB!" called a voice, in "You've lost your bearings!" and i ie Peter of the cross eyes stepped sud- 1 i's denly out from behind the hut. 1 ig "Lord! but you've led me a smart < rd stern chase!" he continued, as he 1 as fanned his red, perspiring face with 1 oi his hat. Then it dawned upon Jac- t j-s queline that the man had been dog- I hI ging her steps. "I just want to warn ( id you," he said, growing brazen under t r. her high, imperious glance, "to go 1 g. back now to the houBe. It's not 1 d. safe to be abroad on Deadman's at t ig dark. There's ghosts out?lots of 1 is 'em?all the folks killed in the old 1 jo massacre. You're in peril of your i at life, a-wandering so careless round 1 s? the island, miss!" 1 in "If I am in peril," answered Jac- 1 n_ queline, in a withering tone, "it's not! 1 from ghosts. How dare you follow j th nie>" in "Mr. Trevor sent me to look after [{. you, miss. I tell you them old dead I ie folks often walk here. I've seen 'em t ,w myself, with hair flying like mare's \ to | tails, and (he stains of the slaughter i ;1-1 on 'em. It's bad luck to see ghosts, i tie miss?something evil is sure lo nap- t n, pen when they show up." J 1 id "Then I advise you to hasten under t st cover at once," said Jacqueline, with 'J id cold scorn. "I would far sooner s st meet the ancient inhabitants of this i of place ill an its present owners. 1 ? of warn you, do nui follow me again, t sir. even though your master com- f nt mands it " ig He cringed be!oie. her. of "Now. miss, i humbly beg your be pardifep! I'd M .'ri to rerve you in c ut- the fcUJLt- way, )1 t'Jijv lor ?hu saK<- ol s er your hanObomi I act-'. Wouldn't it be i tie wise for you to make f}\eiyste with c ur me? Maybe J could do you a good I tie turn?win; knows?" "You are too kind." replied Jac-, te i queline, haughiily. "Happily. 1 do j a I not require your scrvlcet?," and sho ' t y. i walked away toward a row uJ )jph1ed | I I ? IIIIMil vindows which s>-e knew belonged | o the Btone house. Peter pounded after her over the ineven ground, muttering to himself, >ut she continued on, never turning ler head. At the first rise in the ocHy path Bhe brought up agairurt 3kipper Joe, who was hurrying from ;he direction of the house. He earned his hurt hand in a sling, and :here was an ugly frown on his face. "Out of my way, miss!" he said, jruffiy, and then to Peter: "I've been ooking for you at the house, you ubber! Mr. Trevor is in a fit on the Seach, and not a doctor within twenty miles' sailing, and the old sloop's leaking like a sieve. Come along, md bring him indoors!" "Bring him yourself!" answered Peter, in a surly tone. "With my smashed flippers, you tool? Lively now, or you'll find your master a corpse on the sand." "It's all I can do to watch the woman, without looking after Trevor," srowled Peter. "What's he been doing to get a fit? But you needn't :ell me?I know?I heard the screech!" As the pair clattered down the rocky slope together the voice of Joe Raby was blown back to Jacqueline's jars. "When's that girl going to leave the island?" And Peter replied distinctly, "Not at present?if [ can help it!" * *?** Jacqueline found the house door jnbarred, and gained her room withDut difficulty. Soon after she heard heavy feet on the stair and knew :hat Peter and the skipper had Drought Mr. Trevor in. Woman like, she now began to tremble. 'She had meant no bodily harm to her enemy, ks she was casting off her outer gar ments a rap sounded on her door. Mrs. Trevor stepped into the chamber. She was gowned in white wool. Pull sleeves of lace fell back from tier thin hut beautiful arms and a belt jf jewels bound her slender waist. Her face was, as usual, the color of aer dress.. "Miss Hatton," she said, sharply, 'you have been walking about the island to-night?did you meet my husband during your walk?" "I saw him on the beach at the foot of the rocks," replied Jacqueline, coolly. "He did not see me." "What happened there to throw him into his present state? I must md will-know!" 'I am quite ready to explain," answered Jacqueline, and in a few (vords she told the incident of the evening. Mrs. Trevor listened, as unmoved as a statue. "You're presence at Deadman's is Iriving him distraugh't," was her only comment. "Not I?but his own sins," retortid Jacqueline. "Then you do not believe the story lie told you about your father?" "Not one word." Mrs. Trevor smiled, mirthlessly. "Which is the greater sinner?the nan who betrays his friend, or the ivoman who betra^B her husband? I tnow nothing about the charges which you bring against Philip Trevor?he does not confides such maters to me, and to tell the truth, I jare little whether he fs guilty or inlocent! If he has taken your money rou cannot, by any common means, nove him to restore It, but you can irive him to do some desperate thing. 3e is a victim of chronic melancholy, [t was a mistake to isolate himself oa ;his island?better the distraction of jities than a solitude where the mind ireys constantly on itself! He is now jnconscious. Do not show yourself :o him again. In his overwrought state he might do you harm. I canlot hold myself responsible for your jersonal safety?my own is not always secure. There! I have warned fou! This much I felt constrained to lo, since I could offer you no proper protection." "Madame," said Jacqueline, "I shall be only too glad to leave the sland as soon as a boat can be provided for me. Believe me, I have no lesire to meet Philip Trevor again? fou cannot, understand with what oathing I regard him." "I understand you perfectly!" replied Mrs. Trevor, with calmness. 'As f conveying you to the mainand, I think the sloop ought to be eady v to-morrow. Good night, Wins Hatton?may you sleep well!" She left the chamber To be Continued. Yearning For Light. "When it comes to consuming gas n large quantities blind people can jeat their seeing brethren all holow," said an inspector of the gas company. "I know two families where both husband and wife are jlind. Every jet is turned on full ilt in their homes at night and is cept going at that rate clear up to 12 j'clock. Light and darkness are all he same to the afflicted ones, but hey insist upon illumination briliant enough for a reception. And hat partiality l'or light is not a whim peculiar to those two couples. Most jliud people feel that way. They denand the light, and in all private lomes and institutions where the )lind are cared forthe gas bills vquch for the strange fancy."?Philadel)hia Public Ledger. The Dijon Poplar. A private letter from a traveler in France speaks of a poplar tree that he writer saw in the city of Dijon, vkich is the oldest tree of its kind n France. It is 122 feet in height, md is forty-five feet in circumference at the base. The city council las an authentic record of the hisory of the tree, since the year 722. rhe people of Dijon are proud of it, ;o much so that they not long ago i tov tr> nnt n miline' 'Ult'U LU I\;TJ CI tu.k ?V !?..? M - 0 tround it, so that it might be promoted from possible injury. It is ;ood to see sentiment of this kind. Dealing With Trouble. There is no life that is empty of rare. There is no e?Mstnfn J!::;! :? ibsolutely free from heart pangs. You nust take your trouble* as they ome, shake 'em up yu;i can, and brow them out of youi mind <ji:ick:s a weekly average of 450 j ir.iths in Now York City among chil- > Ire;; .judcr live years old. I jTggp| % AN ELOQUENT SUNDAY SERMON DR. ELBERT RUSSELL. I Theme: God's Fatherhood. I I j Brooklyn, N. Y.?The Rev. Dr. bert Russell, of Earlham College, j diana, preached in the Friends' M< j ing House, Sunday morning, on ! Fatherhood of God." . There wa | large congregation. . Dr. Russ< text was Luke 11:2: "And He s unto them, when ye pray, say, Father." He said: Fundamental in all our religioi "the conception of God. More or consistently all that we do in the i i of worship or service springs f: what we believe God to be, and w we believe He wishes us to do i be. It is important for us very quently for the keeping of our ligion truly to go back to this fur mental element in our religion. Bay our conception (?f God determi our religion in so far as it iu a c Bistent thing. If we believe t God is a despot we shall cringe fawn before Him. If we believe is a jealous God we shall walk so and not appear too prosperous in presence, lest in jealousy He sn us. If we believe He is an absenl an impassive God, who neither kni nor cares how we feel towards Hin regard Him, then we snail go on way as if Gori.did not exist, and sh our course oI action with referenci our own desires, and we shall reckon witli God. We shall say v Job's friend, "Is not God in the hei of Heaven? What doth God knoi There is a story from the East c certain Parsee who was perform his devotions at the altar of fire, there drew near a Jew and a Ch tian. The Jew, moved with jealo that men should worship the creat instead of the Creator, said: "Do worship fire?" "No," said the Par "we do not, we only worship Great Spirit that manifests Him in the flame." "What do you call t spirit?" asked the Jew. "We call ] Ormuz. What do you name the finite One?*' "We call Him Jehov? said the Jew. "God of Gods and L of Lords, the Great God and terrib The Parsee answered, "Your nam a great one, but it is awful." T turning to the Christian, ho ask "How do you name the Great On and the Christian said: "We Him Abba, Father," and the Pai answered, " Your name is the grea of all. but who gave you authorit: call the Infinite, Father?" Now, it is Jesus who teaches that. "Father," robbed of its hui infirmities, of 4ts evil, of its lim I tions, is the name likest to God. we would comprehend what is character of God and His attit toward us we should come before I with the word "Father" upon our 1 It is worth while for us to take conception, this re~6lation of Jesu God, and see. what kind of religio consistent with it; hcJW we, as c dren of our Father, should wors Him and behave ourselves before I and talk of Him. Jesus has not us entirely to draw our own in ences. He told us to call Him Fat] I know that theologians dispute c i the question, whether it is right speak of the fatherhood of God to men, but certainly we shall be trui Jesus if we talk of the fatherlinesi God. And we shall find that J? has something to say about God's lation tc the universe, to this w( of which humanity is so small a p The Pharisees believed in a dist God, God on His throne afar off the seventh heaven, a majestic so' eign, removed from the comi things of the world. They belie | me woria was carneu uu mruugu I mediation of angels. They belle I that God once for all had given ! will for men's conduct in the 1 ! that on some far off day men wc ! stand before Him and be exami j as to whether they had kept the ! and .that only by some special pr | dence or miracle did God take a j rect hand in the control of His 1 ! verse. That was not the teachinj Jesus. To Him the world was Father's house. To those rabbis i believed that God had spent six d in making the world, He said, * ! Father worketh until now." He cc ! say that His Father makes the I rise and sends the rain on the 1 and the good alike, clothes the j and feeds the birds. God needs ! angel to tell Him what is going in the world. He knows our ne before we ask and when we pray do not have to invoke some ai i to carry the petition, but simply in sincerity: "Our Father." I .that changes the conception of ligion and our relation to God; 1 it fills the world with the presenci the Divine! Far be it from me deny the possibility, or even the c tinrous recurrence of the things call miraculous, but to anyone i follows the teaching of Jesus mir.rcle loees its unique character our religious thinking and life, believe that Jesus turned the wj into wine (it was exceptional actr of the Divine power), but I beli that when the vine blossoms in Bprir^ and matures its fruit in fall, it is just as much the activit: God as when Jesus performed miracle at Cana. ? Toctio toonhfie no tn thfnl I God as Father, He calls attent j first, to the likeness between 6piri< i and the Spirit of God. as tt Is a likeness between father and In nature; and secondly, to the 1 that God, His Father, feels tow men. W. are made "in the image God." whatever that may mean, : we certainly bear a spiritual liker to God. Love and reason and po of will in us, though finite and sm mean the same in us that they dc God. We could not understand Hiir 1 that wer? not true. In fart, n j human liin is the unlike thing I God. j The sinless man is the one t j most clearly shows what God is. Pi ftlation between God and man m he a process of man's comprehend God and realizing His purpose. Mar. ran <-ojnpreh?nd <?ud'.? ;i , pose. as a sou bis father >. I < !,. IH'W S; i v> IS U1UL cuiliprcm'liiii How 'iini.jd our capariiy! and doii's -."ialioii of Himself to us thii'; nt x yrry much rnndifioi nji n nui capacity to know God. mi:*; i>t 'lirough a being like Him! That the fullest revelation of ( aiust. come. Wp are not to think of the incar tir.i: and revelation of Christ a: violent union of nnlik^ thiiigs, , the j-nelation of God through a j feci. Ood in and through humanity Again, we must seek holiness in jicrlVlion of the aoulnhip, in the j Jectloa our humanity. ?i [the crusade against drink P.J PROGRESS MADE BY CHAMPIONS [1 FIGHTING THE RUM DEMON. "Yes, I'm Guilty." "I'm guilty, my lord," the prisoner .said, oy As he wiped his eyes and bowed bis head "Guilty of all the crimes you name; But this yere lad is not to blame. Twas I alone who raised the row, And, my lord, if you please I'll tell yei how. You see, this boy is pale and slim; We call him Saint?nis name is Tim? He's like a preacher in his ways? k'" He never drinks, or swears, or plays. In- Why, sir, many and many a night, aet- When erub was scarce and I was tight, The No food, no fire, no light to see, s a When home waa hell, if hell there be, >ll's *ve 8een *^at k?y 'n darkness kneel, ' And pray such words as cut like steel; ,a Whicn somehow warmed and lit the room our ^n(j geemed to chase away the gloom. Smile if you must, but facts are facts, i is And deeds are deeds, and acts are acts; less And though I'm black as sin can be, jyav His prayers have done a heap for me, ,n ' And make me think that God, perhaps, * Sent him on earth to save us chaps. "at This man what squealed and pulled us in, and He keeps a place called Fiddler's Inn, fre- Where fakes, and snides, and lawles re- ' scamps 1(ja. Connive and plot with thieves and tramps r Well, Tim and me, we didn't know Just what to do or where to go, ines And so we stayed with him last night; :on" And this is how we had the fight: bat They wanted Tim to take a drink, and But he refused, as you may think. He 'Drink! Drink!' they cried, 'this foamin ftly beer, . tt^ 'Twill make you strong and give you cheer Then Tim knelt down beside his chair, in it? Ana oiierea up nis mue prayer; : of 'Help me, dear Lord,"* the child began, ows As down his cheeks the big tears ran, i or 'To keep the pledge I gave to You, our And make me strong, and good, and tru( _ p I've done my best to do "what's right. But oh, I'm sad and weak to-night.' s. ? 'Get up, you brat, don't pray round here not The landlord yelled with rage and fear, /ith Then, like a brute, he hit the lad, ght Which mad my blood just bilin' mad, v?" I guess I must have hurt his head, a I struck so hard?for the man's dead. . No, he hain't no folks nor friends but me \? His dad was killed in sixty-three. a*1(J Shot at the front, where bursting shell ris- And cannon sang their song of hell. s usy And bullets hissed with fiery breath, ure As brave men fell to the tune of thei you death. see ' promised his father before he died, As the life-blood rushed from his wound? th; side,self I promised him, sir, and it gave him joy, hat Tnat I'd protect his little boy. tvim I simply did what his father would, [n- And helped the weak, as all men should. tjj ? Yes, I knocked him down and blacked hi ', eye, ' ? And used him rough, IH not deny; le. But think, mv lord, a chap like him e is Striking the likes of little Tim. hen If I did wrong, send me below, ed: But spare the son of comrade Joe. e>>? You forgive him: and me! Oh. no! *n A. factf God hless you! Come, Tin cal1 let's go!" see 6 test f to Most Striking Argument. One of the most striking argument us for temperance reform, says Mr. L. A nan Brady, is to be found in certain cold ita- dispassionate statistics issued by th If United States Census Bureau. Thes the figures show that Intemperance, a ude either a direct or a contributin lim cause, was responsible for more tha ips. 19 per cent.?practically one-flfththe of all the divorces granted in th s of United States during .the twenty yeai n is between 1887 and 1906 inclusiv< hil- Since at the present rate at leas ship every twelfth marriage ends in d Urn vorce, we get a proportion of on left home in every sixty-one wrecked b fer- drink. Moreover, the census authoi her. ities themselves, according to Mi iver Brady, admit t^at these figures rej ; to resent only the most flagrant and pa all pable instances of the part which ii a to temperance plays in divorce, and th? 3 of greater percentages than those a< :sus tually given would be nearer tb re- truth. The detailed figures as s< )iid forth in the census bulletin are a art. follows: ;ant "Drunkenness was the sole caus ! in of divorce in 36,516 cases, or 3.9 pt irer- cent, of the total number of divorcf non (1887 to 1906). It was a cause i a vrHfh anm o nthcr r?Q nc V till WUlUlUttblV/U U1WU uvuiv the in 17,765 cases, or 1.9 per cent, c ved the total number. Therefore, it wa His a direct cause, either alone or in con aw, binatioD. with other causes, in 54 mid 281 cases, or 5.7 per cent, of th ned total. Of divorces granted to th law "wife the percentage for drunkennes ovi- either alone or in combination wit di- other causes was 7.9; of those gran uni- ed to the husband, the corresponds ; of percentage, 1.4. the "The attempt was made to ascei vho tair also the number of cases i lavs "which drunkenness or intemperanci 'My although not a direct ground for tb iuld divorce, was an indirect or contribi sun tory cause. The number of such cast evil | was returned as 130,287, represen lily ing 13.8 per cent, of the total nun no ber of divorces. Probably this nun on her includes those cases in which tb .eds fact of intemperance was alleged i we the bill of complaint or establishe lgel by evidence, although not spec say fied among the grounds for which th low divorce was granted." re low a 0f Begun Too Late. ! to Much temperance instructio :on- brings small results because it is b< wf gun too late. Temptation or exan vho Pie exert their influence early in th the lives of thousands. An inquiry by for pnysician m one 01 .ine larger ^ mei 1 ican hospitals as to the age when th iter use of drink was begun by alcoholi irjty patients, showed that in 275 case ieve investigated, nearly one-third (thirt the per cent.) began to drink before si? .the teen years of age, and over two-third ? of (sixty-eight per cent.) began befor the twenty-one years of age. If these st2 tistics are representative, they ind c of cate clearly that temperance trainin ion, I t0 be effective must be begun earl our ' aQd carried on thoroughly and sys iere tematically through childhood au son youth with devotion to tho highes ove conception of human life and patrioti ard duty. of Temperance Education a Hopefn Work. isss wer The nations of to-morrnv. are al all, ready here. With us of to-day rest > in the responsibility for determiuiiij what shall be the future progress o i if these nations by the training or th< ,nly r^glect of i^irir millions of chHrtrei to j that at this moment are in the homi I or in the school room. Temperanci hat education of youth cannot do all ii le\- solving the alcohol problem, but th Hist problem cannot be solved withou ing that education. mr- A Fino Y. M. C. A. Building. liur. One of the interesting develop un! ments since the State. Prohibition lav su waj passed, .'s the successful cam 5 is paign which lSs resulted in raising : r;ert $200,000 fund ill Nashvillo for th( Jt erection of a fine T. M. C. A. build =ell ing. More than 4000 people contri lod buted to the fund for this splcndic enterprise. r,x 5 a, In Vermont, where seven ycnrs agr but the Anti-Saloon League united wit.t <he liquor dealers to substitute loca option for Stato prohibition, th( the ) spring elections resulted in a gain ol '?!*" J one town for tin linAiuifc The ' Sunday=School INTERNATIONAL LESSON COM MENTS FOR NOVEMBER 28. Subject: Paul on Self-Denial?World' r Temperance Lesson, Rom. 14 10-21?Golden Text: Rom. 14 21?Commit Verses 19, 20. TIME.?Spring, 58 A. D. PLACE.?Corinth. EXPOSITION.?I. Judge Not On Another,. But Help One Another, 10 15. There are three things to mark wel in v. 12. (1) Who is to give accoun , ?"each one of us." Not one of u shall escape that account. There i not a man so great or obscure that h will not be_summoned. Are yoi ready / (Z) to wnom are we 10 giv account?"to God." That is tb dreadful thing about it and that i the blessed thing about it. It i dreadful to some because God is s 8 holy; dreadful, too, because He i ^ omniscient and His all-seeing eye look us through and through, and n deed has been so covered, and n thought or imagination so hidden but He knows them all. To Him w are to give account, and there is n p deceiving Him, and there can be n false returns. It Is blessed to som / because God is so loving, so just, s< tender, so discerning; because "H knoweth our frame," and because H is the One who redeemed; and how ever poor and bad the account ha St been, we are glad to render it to Him I am glad that I am to render my ac t count to God, not to man. (3) O whom is each to render account?"o himself." Many of us act as if it wa of some one else we were to reude account. Those who are making th inconsistencies of others an excus ; for not being Christians themselve better ponder these words carefully As we are each to render our accoun to God.weshould stop judging one an j other. Food is a very proper thing Others may lay down laws for us a to what we should eat or not eat i that have no warrant in God's Word and we may very properly laugh a these man-made laws. Yet love i the ruling principle of a Christiai life, and If our doing something tha i? In itself it is perfectly proper to dc Is going to grieve some brother 'an above all, lead him into sin and ruin how can we do it? Better have ou liberty curtailed than have his sou lost. If we magnify our liberty t the sacrifice of our brother's soul w l. 'walk no longer In love." A tru Christian will forbear many thing ibout which in themselves he has n sompunctions of conscience lest h iestroy him "for whom Christ died.' H. The Kingdom of God is No f Meat and Drink, Bat Righteousnes e md Peace and Joy in the Holy Ghost e 16-23. Liberty is given us but w ,a may so use it that it is evil spoke: g of and becomes a source of evit. Th d real proof that we are in the kingdor - of God and that the kingdom of Go e is in us, is not found in our scrupu 9 lousness, or lack of scrupulousness 5 In eating and drinking, but In ou !l manifesting righteousness in ou i- | lives, having peace in our hearts (ct ? 1 15:13), and manifesting it towar j ) our fellow men (v. 19; ch. 15:18) r. ] and being filled with joy 'vin the Hoi r. j Ghost." Many of those whom I hav b j known who were most scrupi 1< lous - regarding what they drinl i- have given least p^roof of bein it In the kingdom by the test of thi > verse. The object of our pursuit 1 e to be, the things which make fo peace, the things whereby we ma is build one another up. How many c our pet hobbies we must lay on th :e shelf if we obey God's command i ii verse 19. They do not make fc is peace and they do not build up. Bn n we are so fond of them and delight t ! draw them out on every occasion. ] '1 Is better, however, to obey God. Peac ls and growth are far more important i i- the church than skilful hair-splittinj ? The true Christian principle of tots abstinence is found in verse 21. ] ^ applies to the question of the use c 59 intoxicating liquors. It applies als & j to a great many other things. It wi go far toward settling many questior 5 j that are troubling Christians as t I whether they should do this or tha r" It is not merely a question as t D | whether the thing is wrong in itsel : or whether you will be hurt yourse e ! by it, but the real question is, wi 1- I any one be injured, made to stumbl '81 by my doing it? I cannot have me? | or drink or any other indulgence as l> 1 lover of my fellow men and a follov x' i er of Jesus Christ if thereby I destrc e J the work of God. I know that a ? | meats are clean, but I know ths . many cannot eat them with a clez l* I conscience and they are evil for ths f j man. If any one else will be injure J by my indulgence, no matter how ii nocent the thing itself may be, ac how harmless it may be to me, I wi not do it. It is well to have fait! n but it is well to have the love th! has faith to itself and does not injui '* others by the exercise of its ow 6 faith. "Happy indeed is the ma f who condemneth not himself in thi r" thing which he approveth." But if * man does that about which not oni c others condemn him, but about whic 13 his own conscience has doubts, t' y he is condemned indeed, "Whate. l't is not of faith is sin." This is a broa s and searching definition of sin. Yo e may keep saying to yourself, "I A not believe this thing is wrong, great many good people do it," but ? you yourself have doubts in yoi ? mind about it, if you are not absoluti j ly clear it is the will of God, then lj is sin in you. The question is not, ai you sure the thing is wrong? T question is, are you perfectly sure ! Is right? ' British Harbor Oper.etl. The naval harbor, which has beei in course of construction at Dover s England, for about eleven years am g has cost about $20,000,000, has beei f formally opened by .the Prince o e Wal^s. The warships in the harbo: a v;or;; gaiiy decked, thoiv was a grant e military display asho;e, with mucl e saluting between the forts and th< i ships. The harbor comprises an are; e of ne&rly 700 acres, which were for t | mcriy open sea. 1 lie uiggesc jjreau | noughts may enter it at alJ tiries. Mose? Qkjt.ii (iAn?<-i Urad. 7 Moses Grant Daniel, tdwuiU.r ;?l. author, died in his hom^ in Roxt>;-?> ~ Mass., seventy-thr.'C years >)<J H< , was graduated from Harvard in i86it _ He was principal of tbe Otiaoucej ^ Hall School for twelve years anc afterward was editor <>? textbooks He was the author of many works or Latin used in the j)ub1!< schools. Bubonic I'lagar Kj?kcf. | There were seventy-seven death: , from tho bubonic plague and sixty . four fatal cads of cholera in Aiuo; during ibe two w^eks. * . 6 YOU ASK ME. . You ask me how I gave my heart to Christ? I do not know. . ' There came a yearning for TTim in my soul so long ago. I found earth 8 flowers would fade an< die? e I wept for something that could satisfy; And then?and then?somehow I seemAt ' j? LU U(U? I To lift my broken heart to Him in prayer, t I do not know?I cannot tell you how; 9 I only know He is my Saviour now. c You ask me when I gave my heart to ? I Christ? II I cannot tell. e The day, or just the hour, I do not no* e remember well. 8 It must have been when fwas all alone g The light of His forgiving Spirit shone _ Into my heart, so clouded o'er with sin; I think?I think?'twas then I let Him iflu 8 I do not know?I cannot tell you when; s I only know He is so dear since then. o o You ask me where I gave my heart to Christ? g I cannot say. That sacred place has faded from my sight 0 as yesterday. >' 1 0 Perhaps He thought it better I should not e Remember where. How I should love that 0 spot! ( e I think I could not tear myself away. g For I should wish forever there to stay. I do not know?I cannot tell you where: ~ I only know He came and blessed me there. >. You ask me why Igave my heart to Christ? - I can reply: | It is a wondrous story; listen while I tell you why. ? My heart was drawn, at length, to seek 3 I His face; * f I was alone, I had no resting place; i I heard how He had loved me with a love a Of depth so great?of height so far above 4 ; All human ken; I longedsuch love to share, ,, ' And sought it then, upon my knees in 1 | prayer. " >>{ * 1 You ask mc why I thought this loving [. [ Christ s i Would heed my prayer? ' , ; I 1 knew lie died upon the cross tor me? I I { nailed Him there. H 4 I I heard His dying cry, "Father, forgive!" H i I saw Him drain death's cup that I mightM 3 I . ,live; H 3 i My head was bowed upon my breast inH t I shame! >, | He called me?and in penitence I came. K j He heard my prayer! I cannot tell youB '? Nor when', nor where; only?I love HimB 1 &?W* fl 0 Self-Pi ty. fl One of the most hurtful moods .thatfl ? we can fall into is that of self-pity.B It is a babyish, peevish spirit that willB 0 weaken us to such an extent that winfl f Bhall actually become useless foe Gdfl and shall either die spiritually <9H t have to be petted and carried arouncifl s like a baby, even though large andB full-grown in stature. God has nofl e pets in His family, except those whcB n are young in grace and need to beB e carried along until they have becomaB n strong enough to walk and do forfl d I themselves. , i- I Seif-nitv is. we can consistently! J, ! say, a well-advanced degree of back* r ; sliding. It comes along with discour* r agement, which is but one step from i. giving up and falling from grace. AI d soon as we feel inclined to self-pity. >, we should take a strong Btand against y it, calling on God for help, to overe come the temptation. . The more we i- yield to such a feeling, the more it i, grows upon us, until we become like g a spoiled child and forget all the is i blessings that God has given us, be is : cause He has not given us moreu A ir | person in this condition becomes disy agreable to all around him; and in>f : stead of being a blessing to any one e and of helping to lift up the weak, he n ; himself wants all the blessings and is ir a dead weight to those around him.' it i We are disposed to pity self when o in trial?to think that we are haying [t i a harder time than any one else in :e ; the world. If we would but look D j around and try to help some one, we I should see that our troubles are de* ii i sirable in comparison with those of [t i some poor souls, and would not ex* )f , change places with them for anything 10 We cannot exercise faith in such a 11 | condition of self-pity; and if we dc ls i not soon get out of this condition we 0 ! become an easy victim to almost anj t ! kind of evil spirit. Peter thought q ! ,esus ought to pity Himself when he f learned that Jesus must go up tc If Jerusalem and suffer (Matt. 16:22. j] | margin); but Jesus rebuked that feeUfl e ing aDd let Peter know that Hel it j .Jesus; would not he so weak and I a I faltering as to yield to toe aiscourag** j. ing f eeling and give way to His hu-l iy j manity, when it was the will of Godl ]] that He should suffer. I it Self needs no pity of this kind I ir That which God gives is the right* it kind. It will come when needed anil ,(j will do us good. Self-pity is dowp-* a. right selilshness.?J. W. B.f In Gos>V pel Trumpet. jl rj' Limiting Onr Spiritual Resources. I u God is limited, in His gifts to usJ re by our gifts to Him. The only maifl n to whom God can give all that He ban D ie the ipan who has given.to God alfl lt that he has. In other words a man'gl a partial surrender of himself to Godl lj means that he will receive from Godl ,j. only part of the power that God would? ,'n like to send him. Limited surrender? means limited power. Every timel L(j we hold back something that we I IU ought to give up, we defraud our-1 l0 selves of part of the power with ! ^ which God is longing to fnrich our 1 H lives. The impatient word, the wrong? Jr thought which we hold on to when! e. we know that God asks us to give I if them up, rob us by just so much ofj -e the power that He is trying to pla^H .at our disposal. The price of unlit^H l% it.ed power is unconditional surre^H The Reign of God. I The reign of God begins in the hull j man heart by unselfishness, honesty and a hearty support of every enter3 prise that has for its end the betteri ment of social, economic and religious f conditions. ? Rev. G. W. Grinton, r Newburgh, N. Y. 1 i i Graces of Temper. 3 To bear evils with patience ex i tracts from mem tneir snarpest thorns and gathers from tliem the sweetest graces of temper.?Rev. J. B. Remcnfro^der. "Rav(iar'?a^? Strike? Ends. ^ The Ktrikr <>f tlio garbage collectors nyd the :;1 r<;< t ewcopers in Havana ? has boon settled. President Gomez having issued a decree appropriating f funds sufficient ti> satisfy the deI mand? of tbi: men Em rgeiie efforts are new being inadt to clean up the i cily. Prizes For Aero Conlests. B R. J. Collier and F. N. Doubleday, . thrc;uKli the Aero Club of America, y offered valuable prizes fo? aeroplanecoilcfcts in IP 10. j