Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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\ Ta ? BY ELLA MIDD ||, Aul hor of5 Tht- SujuKRlfi g Al.L RIUHT I ""Copyright, .!?>!) ?;> J. B. I.IPI'IN . CHAPTER VIII. Continued. "Mrs. Stubbs was very kind. Even after all the excitement and the police coming here, she let me stay with hf>r She had seen and talked to Miss Schuyler about, losing her bag before we got here, you know, and said her diamond earrings were so big she might, easily be murdered for tbem. Oh, Billy, j'ou don't think?" "No, 1 don't," I assured her. "Go on, Nancy." "She?Mrs. Stubbs went, up to your rooms several times during the evening, and said Mr. Casey was the only one of you who came home. After the police left (they watched the house from the outside, I believe), she suggested I should try and get some sleep on her little sofa in her parlor. I stayed there the , first night, but I didn't sleep any, for y'; it was too short for me. So last night she told me to go up into Mr. Starr's room and try to get some rest, as it was certain he would not dare come back there. I went, but in the middle of the night J go frightened and crept very sortiy aown to :?irs. rj SJtubbs for protection. It seemed to rae that it was more than I could . <' s stand to be there alone." ^ So it was the rustle of Nancy's r\ skirt that had waked me the previous . '.night, and Nancy's comb I fdund upon "Starr's dresser. Why had I not had . the courage to go in and thereby save myself many anxious hours? ' "I slipped up here when yen came dpwn this morning,' resumed Nancy, . "for I thought it was Mr. Casey with v " Mrs. Stubbs, and I did not want to meet him here of course. I've ber,n . here ever since in your room, sitting ' ' in your deat- old chair, Billy, and wisnmg ior you. "Did Mrs. Stubbs tell you I was '.. " here and not Casey?" ... "No," said Nancy; "she came up ;? 'J here and seemed to be rather uneasy about something. Finally she said ^ - that if I would take her advice I f .. would go home to Aunt Josephine, :\,.V^and have nothing more to do with v ^ou. She believed you were one and bad'lots and was actually afraid of any of you. The first thing we 7 knew both she and I would be disappearing like Miss Harriet Schuyler, ' ;; .and how would I like that? For her ' part she was going to put ou her " bonnet and go home to her mother's house: 1 \^as welcome to stay-here if 3-T liked, but she felt it her duty to j -warn me what .to expect." ; "And yet you stayed?" "Of course I stayed. I wrote a note to Julia Schuyler and got Mrs. Stubbs to mail it, for I did feel a lit ue nervous aooui staying nere aione after the queer things that have happened. Something told me you would V: .be sore to come to me, and so I waited for you. But where were you, and why did'you take so long? It's your turn to give an account of yourself, sir." So I told Nancy all I knew. Sit-, ting there in my old arm-chair, with my arms around her, it did not seem half so dreadful asuwhen I considered matters alone. I touched very lightly upon the incarceration of Casey and what we might expect when he was released. "Of course," said Nancy, "it was too bad to leave him there, but you had to get out and come to me, didn't you, dear?" After a while the twilight stole i , upon us, and with the gathering darkness I became very thoughtful. "Nancy," I said, at last, "I'm going down to telephone to Miss Julie Schuyler that she need not send me vour address. And then we must sro to the Little Church Around the Corner?you and I." "To-morrow," suggested Nancy. "I'm so tired to-night." But I thought of Aunt Josephine, and of Mrs. Grundy as typified by Mrs. Schuyler-Smythe and other irreproachable matrons. "No, dearest," I insisted; "not tomorrow, but to-night." "Men are so foolish," said Nancy Welles. CHAPTER IX. I got a note from Casey (he next morning. It said briefly: "Come immediately and without delay upon receipt of this." I read it twice and tore it up. "Are you going?" asked Nancy. We had breakfasted together, my wife and I, at the very restaurant we had patronized for chocolate on the eventful evening of our first meeting, and Nancy had insisted upon my tipping the waiter with reckless prodigality, to make up for the gratuity lacking on the previous occasion, she explained. When we returned to my rooms she wrote to Aunt Josephine, requesting to be furnished Avith what she lucidly described to me as her "things." It was with the greatest pleasure I mailed the letter, since it would prove to that austere matron that I was not "out of the question" after all. Then'the postman had come, bringing Casey's note. "Are you going?" repeated Nancy. Before I had time to answer, there was a knock at the door and a diminutive boy thrust a telegram into my hands. I tore off the yellow envelope impatiently, with a premonition of something important or unpleasant. It read simply: Come immediately to Fremont House, Boston, or telegraph mo live hundred dol * lars without delay. R. Fekgi-'ESOOX. I handed the telegram to Nancy and hastened to open the door in re sponse to another knock. This time it was a messenger boy, and he thrust a white envelope into my unwilling hands, requested a receipt, and departed. Its contents wers merely: \ - * "OR CA5LY.'< O L.ETON 7YBOUT, "Pokt towti People,"J Etc-O S RESERVED* -O COTT COMT'A.NT, rhllr.lflphl.-i To. ^ (.'onso (o me immediately and withou1 delay upon receipt of (his. I must see yoi at once. JmpoYtant. Julie Schuylek. I passed this also over to Nancy and waited for comment. She pickec up the telegram and considered it her white brow wrinkled anxiously. "1C you go," she said, "I shal never see you again. Send th< money." "Dearest," I said apologetically, haven't got it." "Oh," said Nancy, "but thai doesn't matter. I have." I took her hand in mine and lookec at the new plain gold ring thai ??*-* fniror T fptt thai g I UU UCi ? ? right now 1 must explain to my wif< that Mrs. William Leigh must loot with more respect at five hundret dollars than Nancy Welles had done It was evident she did not realiz< that her base of supplies was cut off and I hated to tell her. "Don't you understand, Nancy,' I began, "that you father may nol forgive you for running away witl me? At any rate, he won't for a lonf time. And so, dear, you must be content with what I can give you. I'n sorry it is so little?but we have eacl other." "You mean," said Nancy, "thai Daddy would disinherit me because 1 married you?" "He might. Your Aunt Josephine you know." "Bosh!" interrupted Nancy. "Aunl Josephine, indeed! Why Daddj couldn't stay angry with me?he jusl couldn't. I give him two weeks, and not a minute more." I was silent. Try as I might, 1 could not bring myself to disillusion her. Nancy, too, became suddenly serious. "Billy," she said, "you don't understand about Daddy and me. I'm all he has and he loves me." Very simply she spoke, and at that minute I felt a sympathy for my father-in-law, for I, too, loved Nancy. "And don't you know, you dear old silly," she continued, "that I have my own income from my mother? It is?oh, quite a lot?I don't know j how much; but I'm twenty-one now, and it is mine to do with as I will. So there is nothing to worry about after all." "Nancy," I said, and spoke truly, "while for your sake I am glad?for myself, I am sorry. It was you 1 wanted, not your money. And I expect to work for my wife." "Don't talk any more about it," she returned. "We have other and more important things to discuss. First, there's Mr. Casey. Shall you go to him?" "Liberty is sweet," I said, with meaning. "Then I will go." It was useless to argue the point. Nancy had but one reply, and it was an undeniable fact. "If you go, they might keep you. ; They don't w,ant. me." I picked up the telegram and pondered over it. "i wonaer wnat nanay is aoing m Boston," I speculated, "and why he wants five hundred dollars. I don't like the look of it." "Five hundred dollars, by all means," said Nancy, "but not you." I turned to the third summons. "Miss Julie Schuyler, alias Julia Smith?" I began. I got no further, for there were hurried footsteps in the hall, a hasty tap at the door, quickly followed by another, louder and more imperative. Before I could cross the room in response, the door opened, and the girl whose name was on my lips entered and closed it with purposeful manner. "You did not come to me," 61^ said, "and so I came to you." "I had not time," I tried to justify myself; "I only just received youi note." Then Nancy came forward, and ] introduced the two girls, adding: "As you were such near neighbors it is strange that you have not met oetore. Miss Schuyler took Nancy's hand and held it tentatively. "Shall we be friends," she queried "in spite of our aunts?" "By all means," agreed Nanry "What was the trouble anyhow?" "My Aunt Caroline's fox terrier,' said Julie Schuyler solemnly, "man) years ago killed your Aunt Josephine's blue-eyed Persian cat, whict had trespassed into our back yard Hence the feud?was to the knife and no quarter." Wo all laughed, then Miss Srbuj' ler turned suddenly to me. "I'm going to Boston," fie an nounced. "Randy?" I hazarded. She produced a telegram, and ! read it aloud: Circumstances over winch J have tic coiitrol detain me in Boston. Write Fre niont House. Randolph. "I'm not going to wastg any tim< writing," sh.3 remarked. "I'm jus going. 1 want you to eo with me." Having stated her wishes, sh( glanced at her watch. "We have plenty of time to catcl the through express," she said". Nancy and l looked at eacn otnei m horrified silence. Then 1 musterec courage to protest. "I really don't think it necessar: ?" I began, but she iLterrupte< ruthlessly. "I've got to go. Can't you under stand how 1 feel about it? But I'v< never been to Boston, and I've neve traveled alone. Either you or Mr Casey must gn with me?I don't can which." "Casey!" I ejaculated. "If you won't go, he will. I cai get hini out any time, you know. I would delay me a few h:v.:r.=, that': all. I'm sure Randol: v.jul*3 b< quite satisfied if either of hi6 best friends came with me." "It's simply outrageous," I said. "I won't go one step. Take Casey A if you choose." Nancy said afterwards that I spoke in a villain-do-your-worst manner, and that my whole attitude was melodramatic. As I had a desperate feeling that matters were approaching a crisis and that soon I should j q know my fate, I suppose I looked as ! a tragic as I felt. So we stared at one j n another in eloquent silence, until I finally Nancy spoke: I * "We'll all go to Boston." Two energetic girls and one disap- j t t proving man! What could he do? In ! t 1 an hour we were on the train for Bos- ' c ton, and while the girls laughed and s chatted gaily I was filled with anxiety ! j as to ways and means. For while ; ? Nancy might have a comfortable bal- j] ance at the bank, our supply of ready ' ? j cash was limited, and cash you must t j have when traveling. As we pulled j out of New York I managed "to say to s j Nancy, sotto voice: j t "How about Casey and his message i ^ t to come at once?" J J* "Oh," she airily replied, "he can j j j wait. He's quite safe and harmless j j t where he is." j p t Now, I felt by no means so sure of s 4 this, for the wrath of Casey hung j i ' | over me like a cloud, and I amused i v j myself working out different .schemes J3 of revenge that I should practice were j . j I in his place, until the girls would ! n ' I have no more of it, and commanded a j E ' different topic of conversation. t CHAPTER X. j t It was in the lobby of .the Fremont j t 1 House that I thought I caught a fleet- J 1 ' ing glimpse of Randy. I was not j sure, however, and by the time I } 1 steered my way toward him he was j j 1 gone. I questioned the clerk at the desk. Yes, Mr. Ferguesson had been | t stopping there for a day or so, but , 1 ^ was out just now. Would I leave a > ? message? No, he didn't know when j j! ' Mr. Ferguesson would be back, nor ! ? where he went; he Bupposed, how- | t ' ever, it was the theatre, since the I ^ | lady had insisted upon a carriage, as I s it was raining. J i: 1 Lady! Ye gods and little fishes! j C I thought of Julie Schuyler, with her j 8 L auburn hair and imperious tempera- j 6 1 ment, and felt thankful she was safe ' _ ' X. 3 in her room. ^ The clerk volunteered the informa- j t tion that they would probably be t 1 home before midnight, and consid- c ered the incident closed. I wrote a ' note to Randy, requesting him to let ! f. me come at once to his room and ! talk things over. Then I waited with j j, what patience I could muster, since J t 1 there did not seem to be anything ; e else to do. j a And Julie Schuyler waited also, j 0 with set face and a sparkle in her j 11 eyes that made me thankful I was not i ? in Ferguesson's shoes. I had not jj meant to tell her about the lady, nor j indeed had I done so. I had whis- ; p ' pered it to Nancy, however, and she J with a burst of virtuous indignation a had thought it best to, as she said, J] "undeceive the poor dear," and sug- j; gest immediate return to New York. ? But Miss Schuyler defined to return. I She would wait, she said, and see i Randolph. So we all waited, and the j t moments passed leaden-footed per- s haps to her, but with surprising v bwiiiiiebs lu iiitr, iui -l nao uuoj i j, volving plans for the assistance of j. Ferguesson. We always helped each other out of trouble, and though -no j c doubt he was much in fault I could i t not resist a feeling of sympathy for n him and a desire to do what I could P to smooth matters over, as I should 8 have wished him to do for me had the ? cases been reversed. Moreover, I had i t a great curiosity to see the lady. So j fc we all sat in the lobby, and I pre- 1 tended to read the papers, while the I r girls talked in whispers, which I ; G judged were in the main uncompli- j * mentary to my sex in general and to Ferguesson in particular. ^ All at once I heard a sharp excla- j | mation. Julie Schuyler had risen | t and was staring at the door leading j into the street as though she had ' seen a ghost. i I: "Mr. Starr!" she exclaimed. "1 ' saw him quite distinctly." I g Nor would anything convince her j u to the contrary. i ? To be Continued. 1 * j t A Last Appearance1. I t We were turning the pages of the 1 ; current issue of an illustrated maga- 1 zine, and we came upon an illustrated " ( joke. A guard opens the door Df a ^ ; railway carriage, in which a young p couple arc seated, and says, "En- j I [ gaged." The man replies that they I* were married that morning. We will a not attempt to explain it, but we im- * ' mediately had a conviction that we ? had seen that joke before; it was accompaniea by the feeling that we p should .not grieve if we never saw it again.?31ack and White. t | a San Francisco Recovers. Financially and commercially the n city is now very close to the normal t basis, and it is evident that popula- d tion and business are having a regu- ? lar normal increase. Doubtless our population is less than it would have r been at this time had we met with no d disaster, but it is certainly larger t I than ever before, and if we take in a the whole metropolitan area which I 3 would bo included in a "Greater San * - Francisco," it is improbable that ] j growth has been checked in the least. | t > ?San Francisco Chronicle. j v t j n Reflections of a Bachelor. ; The way for a woman to like eat- ! J ing anything is to hear it is good for c j the complexion. j t A man can always learn his ene- j n ! mies in a short while, hat not his j ii 1 friends in a lifetime. 1 T Most men can preach themselves | a yr out of breath without ever th iking ? j about practicing any of it. j, The more contempt we thini- wo j] . have for money the more respect we ? a seem to have for those who own it. j a r ?New Ycrk Press. | y ? j 6 g London was somewhat shocked j ^ and amused the other day to dis- j ?. cover that the glass front of the por- | a l trait of Prime Minister Asquith at | v t the Royal Academy exhibition had i s s been placarded with a bill inscribed j 11 e "Votes For Women." j 11 THE PULPIT. iSCHOLARLY SUNDAY SERMON BY DR. MALCOLM M'LEOD. Theme: The Holy Ministry. New York City.?In the Collegiato !hurch of St. Nicholas. Fifth avenue nd West Fifty-eighth street, tho ainistcr, the Rev. Dr. Malcolm Mcleod, preached on "The Holy INrlinisry." The text was from Ephesians, :8: "Unto me who am less than the sast of all saints is this grace given, hat I should preach among the Geniles the unsearchable riches of Jhrist." Among other things he aid: There is no work equal in range or ichness to the great work of the ioly ministry. The New Testament ;ives to it a peerless, imperishable ilace. "It is the best calling, but he worst trade in the world," wrote latthcw Henry. Dr. Cuyler once aid that no royal throne was loftier han the pulpit of Jesus Christ. Vben Dr. Carey was laboring in In;ia, his son Felix had accepted the ffice of Ambassador to the King of Jurmah, Carey said one day to a riend: "Felix had lapsed into an embassador." Meaning that to forake the lofty vocation of the minis-or fcr even the highest earthly court ? ''"oiant Tho man who is va? a *-v ??? ? reaching Christ is handling fabulous reasure?unsearchable riches, our ext says. He should be a man of ative gifts and commanding equipment. Not a few there are who believe hat the gravest danger threatening he cause of organized Christianity o-day in America iis the decline of he pulpit. Because when the puliit declines, the channel of inspirtion is clogged and the fertilizing iver dries up. God has intrusted lis heavenly manifesto to human lips. The history of the church is eneloped in a blaze of pulpit glory, " here are Paul and Tertullian, and 'hrysostom and Basil, and Savonrola and Luther, and Latimer and Jalvin, and Knox and Wyclif, and looker and Jeremy Taylor ana Jtiaxer, and Tillotson and Fenelon, and lason and Massillon, and Robert louth and Robert Ilall, and Ed Irvng and Newman, and Stanley and banning, and Busbnell and Spur;eon, and Brooks and Matthew Simpon. What a list of Immortals one an cite! These are the mountains, ,nd there are millions of noble hill's esides. And what a gracious light bey caught and threw! And whin he altar fires burned low. it was beause the prophets were dead. Singers, we are told, are to be litied because posterity cannot hear hem. Their art is fragile and epbeaeral. Not so the preacher! lie is n alliance with the heights. The ruth he uttcr?- links him with the ternal. It was Henry Ward Beecher, . prcacher, who dealt slavery some f those death blows from which it ever rallied. It wa? Thomas Chullers, a preachcr, who made his weeky discourses one of the controlling orces of Scotland. It was Jonathan 2d wards, a preacher, who made his iulpit a scat of the mighty. It was ohn Wesley, a prcacher, who started , new era of political ccooomy?a nan, by the way, who, according to Jarljrlc, has wielded more influerce a the world that any of his thiee l-eat contemporftflRB?William Pitt', he Duke of Wellington or Napoleon lonaparte. SeiSfe religion* rely upon he sword; soije V-3 the eta.p; ome upon anccatrr *;?rship; so^ne ipon symbolism; hot. tho Christian eligion, from -the beginning, haii ceied upon tongues infiamed ry a buring coal from off God's aHar. Never at any time hus prophecy eased. Our o'?.i professor at Princcon used to sap <8 us, "Young men, .ever belittle your calling n Other arts of worship have changcd. The acrifice has changed; th* ri'tal has hanged; the litanies, the liturgies; iut the functior o? tho pulpit all hrough the circ.'c of the ceuturics ias remained virtually the same, 'he wo*id outgrows its priests, but iot i-.s prophets. "It has pleased tod :>y the foolishness of preaching o save them which believe." Who the true preacher is: 1. He Is a man clad In the garb of lumility. 2. He is a man characterized by he gift of grace. 3. He is a man with a message. May we pause and see what that mplies? 1. A man, first of all, clad in the ;arb of humility. There is nothing oore winsome about Paul than his ;reat human heart. If over there ived a man who had the right to oast a bit, in was he. But mark bis Qodesty: "Unto me who urn less than he least." Me, a vessel of grace, 'he wonder of it dazed him. He elt himself a pigmy before the Qountainous conception. "Unto me irho am less than the least." "Les3 han the least." A comparative suierlative,! You say that is strange, s it possible? Is it good English? Jo, it is not; it is no'; good English, ,nd it is impossible. There cannot ie anything less than the least. It is he language of the heart, not the tead. This is how he felt. Ho yould like a place?if only such a ilace could be?below the lowest. One hardly needs to add in passing hat this is not the temper of the ge. It is not God's bounty to-day hat awakens our awe. People say, Why has this trouble come upon ne?" They do not say, "Why has his blessing been conferred?" Wc !o not marvel at the mercies any ore. Wc do not stand in trembling lewilderment before them. Wc ather expect them. We almost murQur if we do not receive them. Tolay it is our troubles that stir us with he wine of wonder. Why has this ffliction come? Why this calamity? 5aul had more than his share of til ortune, but it never disturbed him. Ie never said "Why?" to his triai9. t was the manifold goodness of God hat evoked his surprise. No man fas ever more humble than the great .postle, and yet again one is almost empted to doubt if ever man was acre boastful. His letters are full f the personal pronoun. In this oup hapter alone he ufos "I' und "ne" J welve limes. Put it, was a spionaia. nngn.mimous bonstfii.'ness. His one in was to use himself and his exiei-ience and his art and his culture s a pedestal for tlic massive figure if the mighty Christ. And you are not surprised. I ;now yovi arc not. Has it not. always leen so? Have not all the Immortal ironhp.ts of truth been men of self .basement? In his eighty-eighth oar John Wesley said. "I am still at chool." And at almost the same age fladstone remarked, "I carry ray atchel yet." Instance Lnthor. In tiidyinj? Lutlier the first thing that '.rests us is the hashfitlnosr, with I'hich he shrank from his vork. He aid one day to the superior who was irging him to preach. "No, no; it i? iot a little thing to speak, befcrf men in the place of God." What "was that but the natural recoil of a great soul from a responsible task? "Why did Jesus choose Judas?" Jospch Parker was once asked. "I do not know," replied the doctor, "but I liave a harder question, "Why did He choose me?" This it wa3 that puzzled Paul. Why did He choose me? "Me," he exclaims, "who am lees than the least." Why me? Of course you know the word "humility" has changed its meaning. In olden times it was a sinister word? a word of slaves. Hardly could you o2er a man a greater insult than tp call him humble. On the upturned statue of Rameses, unearthed the other day amid the ruins of Memphis, is found this inscription: "I am King of Kings. If any one wants to know how great I am. let him try to surpass one of my works." That was the old appraisement. The world accepted y?u at your own valuation. Therefore put the price as high as possible. Once humility was a stigma. To-day it is a compliment. Christ took the hateful word and made It honorable. It Is the Christian's loveliest virtue and his crowning grace. The old order of chivalry has passed away. 'Tls the meek who are mighty now. Can a life become humble apart from God? I will answer that question by asking another. Can a strawberry ripen without the sun? The strawberry will grow and get juice and color; but no berry ever had Its sour sap changed into sweetness without the shining of the sun. It takes the whole solar system to grow a berry. And it takes the power of the H?ly Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, to grow a simple grace itvo hnmllitv Rnskin sava that if you were to cut a square inch out of Turner's skies you would find the infinite in it. Just so, the lowliest grace is roeted in the Infinite. Where is boasting then? It is excluded. Grace shows boasting to the door and bows it out. II. He's a man characterized by the gift of grace. "God resisteth the proud but giv? eth grace unto the humble." "Unto me was this grace given." "Was;" past tense. The great apostle to the Gentiles preached not because he was gifted oratoricaily. Not-' because' he felt a joy in the exercise, but beoause hr, had been anointed. "To me was this grace given." The preacher may have the strength of a Hercules, the heart of a Howard, the tongue of a Cicero, the courage of a Luther, the passion of a St. Francis. He may have all these things and fail. Not. until h* is given an unction from above is hp equipped for his work. 1 His succefs depends not on the depth of hie thoupht or the sparkle of his style, but on th? baptism of his Lord. | He must b? sure that God has spoken to him before he can venture to speak to others. Does he come from some university? Then he can lift us to learning. Does he come from some school of music? Then he can lift us to art. Does he come to us from some Parliament? Then he can lift us to politics. But if he would lift us to God he must come, from the secret of His presence. He must have the fragrance of the King's garden. If he would lead us to Zion he must know the way there. He should ^ear the halo of the Infinite. Now what is gracc? Let u?? he quite sure that we are traveling on familiar lanes. It is not an aesthetic outfit. Gracefulness in, but not grace. It is not a mere soft sentimental emotion. It i.s not simply good will. It 13 a great tidal flow. It is the divine heart at work in the world. God's love as at-, energy going out to the sinner?that is grace. You do not know much of village pumps nere in ;>ew xurn, reruapn you have ne'er felt their interesting romance. Do you remember those old wooden pi-mo* in the country? You bad lo w?rk h:'.rd to get any water, and sometimes 3011 had fijst to pour water in to get any out. How different from a spring! A pump labors, but a spring bubbles. Grace is not love that is pumped out. It is love tliat bursts out. It is a spontaneous, gushing, artesian.. It is the outrush of the love of God. Love with us is a passion. Lova with us is an attribute. It 1a the great card attribufe of the Divine K-sence. III. He is iatrus*.=d with a message. And he must not chiuge the message?not a diptboorj of it. Can the telegrnph boy change the telegram? No; that is sot his province, the Apostle te tho Gentiles is our model. Never for one moment was he. in doubt as lo what be ought to proclaim. It was not always pleasant. Sometimes it was unpleasant and unwelcome. T'ne fnfth he says was once delivered to the saints. . It was not invented by tjicm. It v;as handed down lo them. It w?.s delivered. Nay, stronger than that. It was "once for all" delivered?delivered, be moans, in its completeness. The minister is a voice. The message docs not belong to him. He belongs to the message. Preaching is not a man using the truth. It is truth using the man. He does not possess It. He is possessed, by it. He bears the burden of a divine urgency. Ever should we be on guard lest we forget that the true minister Is a prophet, not a soothsayer; not a foreteller?a forthtellor. He 2s not moving away over there in the realm cf the remote. He is livlntj here in the present. He deals with the twentieth ccntury, not the twonty-flrrt. He is a man of his age. He is a living voice. He upeaks for Cod. He is the interpreter of Gnd. His office is possible only to the basis of a revelation. He is the exponent of a commission. A-i.i whnt -s th-> commission? Not.fi carefully again the wording, please. "That I should prcach among the GenliJ^s the unsearchable riche3 of Christ." Now that is an unsearchable scnfence. I cannot explore it. It is beyond me. The descriptive word in u is a rare word. It means literally "Not to be tracked by footprint?." It is found only in one other place In the New Testament?in Roman*. "How unsearchable are His judgments and His ways pa3t finding out" "Past finding out!" That's it. The figure is cceanic. "His way ii in tbo sea and His path in tbe great waters and His footsteps are not known." "IVIicre Cod Wants Us. The true policy of life is to stay just where we are; to believe that to be what and where we arc is God's will for i'.?, and to endeavor lo be tli? noblest, sweetest, purest, -ivoLgest possible. Not tu fret i??cau?* tbe sphere is obscure; not to tt> jealous of the position occupied br others; not to allow the peace of the inner life to he broken by the fever;*h deoire to be something else, bur to be quiet, ermolnc rH that nr.W.ity of disposition and character wbit'li the opportunity and oar\aaJjn caJl for.? F. P?. Meyer. A i'ronil.**. Rv?i v rj?inm,?jB'*. iu the holy WTlt is only a covcuact proriiep.?Wesl?!*. A THE _WARFARE_AGAINST DRINK f ''.? TEMPERANCE BATTLE GATITERS STRENGTH EVERY DAT. * Education Vs. Alcoholism. Dr. Frederick Peterson, professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, in the course of a lecture on "The ] Prevention of Alcoholism," delivered ; before the Now York Academy ol Medicine, said that as a result of years of study he believed the only efflecient method in which to ward off the evils due to drink was the institution of a campaign of education in this country such as is' now being successfully waged against tuberculosis. Dr. Peterson believes that the facts as to evils of alcoholism should be , taught in the public schools and that the statistics that tell the story of the ravages against mankind should be spread broadcast through the country, where every man, woman and child ' can see, read and study them. The speaker said that it was known that between twenty and twenty-five per cent, of all the insane in this country owe their insanity to alcohol; 1 that of the 4,000,000 paupers in the United States 2,000,000 owe their dependence to alcohol; that seventy fivn nar onnt rvf oil ho ny\ m a nnm. AA W VTA. U.11 LUg V/l lUi^ UViUi mitted in the United States is due to intemperance, and that every year in this country there is an average of < 365,000 (1000 n day) arrests for drunkenness. Thirty years ago, he said, the medical profession as a -whole showed lit- ' tie interest in attacks upon alcohol. In those days, he said, physicians i were rather the promoters of the use of alcohol as a stimulant and as a remedial agent in many diseases. But now the generals in the vast crusade are such men as Sir Victor Horsley in England, Bunge and Fcrel in Switzerland and Kraepelin in Germany, and everywhere on both sides of the Atlantic medical men are the foremost opposers of the use of spirituous liquors as a beverage or even as an agent in the treatment of disease.?New York Times. Alcoholic Families. The State has to deal with the descendants of alcoholics as well as with thedenendentinebriates. Demme, i of Switzerland, in k study of two groups of families, one of alcoholics and the other of very moderate drinkers or abstainers, reveals the following facts: In the ten alcoholic families there were fifty-seven children, of whom twenty-five died early and i many others suffered from nervous disease. Only 17.5 per cent, were normal. In the ten non-alcoholic families there were siity-one children. of whom four suffered from nervous disease and 81.9 per cent, were normal. The publication of these startling facts does not seem to carry nearly as much weight as it should in influencing the community. It is obvious that the State, or at least large cities, must make special effort to provide institutions for the treatment of inebriety. which institutions may become the centres for dissemination to families of an alcoholic tendency, or of special alcoholic susceptibility, of the truths concerning' the great dangers of alcohol to the individual and to descendants. Inpieasant racts. I There are a good many facts about crimes and criminals in tbis country that are not pleasant to think about. For instance, Dr. Andrew D. White tells us that while Belgium has the worst record of any country in Europe for homicides, it is only oneeighth as bad as that of the United States. His Sgures'for felonious homicides per year per million of population. are as follows: Canada, 3; Germany, 4 to 5; England. 10 to 11: France. 14 to 15; Belgium, 16: United States, 129. Note the marvelous contrast between Canada and the United States. Dr. White says: "It seems impossible that on one side of an imaginary line homicide could be so much more prevalent than on the other. The reason is that on one side the law prevails and not chicanery, and that on the other side has taken place a break-up in the administration of criminal law." These facts are an unpleasant antidote for fOme of our perfervid Fourth-of-.Tu'v oratory.?Advance. Alcoholic Lunacy: In an address on "The Ecoromifis of State Care of the Insane," before the Senate and Assembly of Maryland, Dr. Albert Warren Ferris, president of the New York State Commission in Lunacy, declared that of the insane of New York, 28.9 per cent, owed their lunacy to alcohol; in Massachusetts, 30.6 per cent.; in three navlums in Rneland. 26.3 ner cent.: in Munich, 30 per cent, of the male patients, while in 44.9 per cent, alcohol was an important factor. In a series of 961 cases in which the causation was accurately known, alcohol was the precipitating factor in 55 per cent., of the men and in 22 per cen*. of the women. The Reason. This statement is enough to shew you why the saloon people are not i:i a mood to like the Anti-Saloon League very much: "Last year saloons were closed at the rate of forty a dayi in the last eighteen months between one hundred and forty and one hundred and fifty breweries were i obliged io go out of business; about three-fourths of the total area and < forty-one million of the population of this country are now under petition." j Tompeninre .Votes. Inebriety is not declining at co *J ? A+ iey r\ r\ for rapid <L I it it; tJiat ciicjicr 10 uu vm.i . ^? . society to accelerate the process. I , Imports of liquor into Japan have fallen more than $300,000 in value in the past three years, or from SS0 2,- , 047 in 190G to, approximately, $500,100 in 1900. "Whisky and Common Sense" is the heading of an editorial in the Philadelphia Ledger. That's the first lime that whisky and common sense ! ever went together.?Rochester Post- ^ Express. If the Government at Washington would only cease breaking its own laws and encouraging had characters to break other laws, we could show ? ? ? u;it Nnoith fn ihc? ivnrlH in <1 llfflU LMII Wl mu M v.? ... the matter of temperance.?Governor Stubbs. of Kansas. Governor Hughes signed the bill of Assemblyman Green prohibiting tiie sale or giving away of liquor except upon the written prescription cl a physician, to any tuberculosis pa lient in a camp, coiony or hospital under the management of State county or municipal authorities. Th( bill was advocated by t.ie Health J?e parlment of New York City. J Religious Reading FOR THE QUIET HOUR. ?" 1 CAST TIIY BURDEN ON THE LORD." Consider the lilies, how they grow.?Luke.2:27. A* fcs, leave it with Him, Hie lilies all do, And they grow. They grow in the rain, knd tney grow in the dewYes, they grow; They grow in the darkness, all hid in the A night; They grow in the sunshine, revealed by tne light ; Still they grow. They ask not your planting, Diey need not your care, As they grow? Dropped down in the valley, The field, anywhere? I There they grow; They grow in their beauty, arrayed in purewhite, They grow clothed in glory by Heaven'fr own light; Sweetly grow. The grasses are clothed And the ravens are fed From His store; But you, who are loved. And guarded, and led? How much more Will He clothe you, feed you, aba give yon HiH care! Then leave it with Him; He has everywhere Ample store. AU if trrifVi TTl Wl 'Tis more dear to Hiis heart, You well know, Than the lilies that bloom, I Or the flowers that start 'Neath the snow. ' . Whatever you need, if you nsk it in prayer, . You can leave it with Him, for you are His1 care, You, you know. ?E. B. Miner, in Gospel Herald. . v' J God's Guidance. In all thy ways acknowledge Him. r.nd He shall direct thy paths.?Proverbs 3, 6. When seized with a mortal malady General Grant passed his last days 1j> writing his very interesting memoirs. Knowing that his way in this world was rapidly drawing to an end there came to him a deep sense of God's gracious guidance, and so he began the story of his life by saying, "Max* proposes and God disposes. There are but few important steps in the affaire of men brought about by their own choice." It is the common experience. God's overruling hand may seem more man ifest in the case or sucn a mas, ana yet it is Just as real in the lot of thelowly as in that of those who "sit in the seats of the mighty." "His-mercy is over all His works." "In Him we live, and move, and have our being." His gracious guidance is not for the favored few only. It is over us all. It provides for all men and blesses all men in proportion as they are willing to be blessed. Seeing that it is so, we" should thankfully. recognize the dir vine providence that Is over us all. It should be the ground of our confl- > dence and the strength of our hope for ourselves and for our fellow men. Even though many seem to live a? if "without God in the world," we may hope for them still, for the di- . vine providence has not yet been fulfilled in them. If God bears witb> them surely we should also. He loves them still for all their wilfulness and* waywardness, and often in ways that we know not of. He brings the wanderer back. It may be through a sorrowful way, but His hand Is over them still, and so we can hopefully leave them with Him who is doing for them all He can. He does not^force His way into their hearts, but'toaite for an opening door, ready to come ii* with blessings as soon as ever He can.1 f mm ruuiii. Now, as of old, to as many as re* I ceive Him gives He power to become Eg the sons of God, not in possibility only, but in very deed and truth. He> fl cannot help tbose who do not will to, fl be helped, but He is always helping H the helpable and blessing the bless- I able and saving the savable, and so B we have the rightto say with him who- fl "I say to thee, do thou repeat B To the first man thou raayest meet, B In lane, highway, or 0]>en 6treet, IE That he, ar.d we, and all men move fl Under a canopy of love fl .As broad as the blue sky above." H ?Rev. A. W. Snyder, in the Sunday 9 Herald. .H A Great Secret. 9| There is in the heart of every man- H an earnest desire to know how he H may be victorious in the time of temp tat ion. Temptation is not sin, though H yielding to sin, but there is one sure ( H way of escaping from the overmaster- 1 H ing power of the tempter, and that is H to keep busy. When David was idle H he sinned, when Peter was not tolling H he failed, and it was when you were H drifting idly along in Christian expe- H rience that you denied your Master. H The secret of a victorious life is tc H| keep busy. The old saying is quite M true, "The idle brain is the devil's- R workshop."?Christian Intelligencer. Strength Ccmes by Singleness. "This one thing I do," writes Paul. RH Does not the utter lifelessnesg with "* * - J ^ ~ i-vf r*hrict Jfinmf* IHI WHICH We UU UIC nwia V* __ from the fact that we are only half in earnest? Most of us are trying to serve God and to please the world at the same time. We have not completely broken with the past; that is- BH our great fault. The trail of the old ^9 life of sin and disobedience is yet Big over all we do. We do not love God supremely, and so we cannot serve aM Him with singleness of purpose. For n a divided love always leads to an indifferent life.?"W. A. Brown. SB Christly Hospitality. SB The Saviour, who overrules all our affairs, can make us feel truly at home, wherever Hit; wisdom places us for the time, were it oven in the midst of a wilderness.?Count ZinzenWonderful Light. Hi --51 t\\?? II you are vriinu^ iu tuuuos ?.uv darkness of faith instead of the illumination of reason, wonderful light will break out upon you from the -^D Word of God.?A. J. Gordon. General Hamilton Gets Idle Post. flB General Sir Ian Hamilton was appointed to the post of Inspector-Gen- ^B| ?ral of the Mediterranean forces to 99 rucceed Field Marshal Lord Kitchen- |M ?r. Lord Kitchener was appointed to* the Mediterranean command last An- KM gust to succeed the Duke of Con-\ naught, who resigned the post be;ause there was nothing to do, and B3B Lord Kitchener's resignation occa;ioned no surprise. General Hamil- ^Hj ton was chief of staff to Lord Kitchsner in 1901-2 in f <th Africa and MM tvas one of the de. .iders of Ladi'smith in the Boer War. BH