Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, January 24, 1900, Image 1
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""^nnaupnisss YORKVILLE. 8. C? WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 24, 1900. NO.
iuui/I
THE CRUC
OFPHIl
By REV. CHARI
Author of "In His Steps: What Woi
* Hardy's Sei
Synopsis of Prrvious Installment
In order that new readers of The Es
quirer may begin with the following ir
stallment oi this story, and understand
just the same as though they had read
all from the beginning, we here give
synopsis of that portion of it wbieh ht
already been published:
% Philip Strong, a minister, receives two call
one to a college town, where he may live
quiet, scholarly life, to bis liking, the other I
a manfacturlng town where there Is plenty <
work to do among the laboring classes. H
accepts the more active Held. Philip disco*
ers that a number of his wealthy parishionei
have property rented for saloons and gamblln
houses. He Interviews one of them and
advised that he had better not stir up tli
matter. The next Sunday he preaches upo
the subject, and Mr. Winter, one of his ma1
prominent parishioners, having property ren
ed for such purposes, rises from his seat an
walks out or the church. The next mornln
Winter calls on the minister and resents wha
he calls an insult to himself, then, threatei
ing to withdraw his support from the cburct
retires In high dudgeon. The sermon creafc
great excitement, and the next Sunday a larg
crowd atienas rumps cuurvu, c.\|jcvuuS
sensational sermon; but Philip disappoinl
them, preaching on a different subject entirely
Philip attacks the saloons and preache
against them to a large congregation. Hecall
upon his people to join with him In an a1
tempt to exterminate them. Later he leave
his house to visit a sick child, and a man oi
the opposite side of the street tires two shot a
% him. Philip has been severely though nc
mortally wounded. His assassin is arreste
and, at Philip's request, is brought before hin
Philip assures him that he bears him no i
will and prays for him. Philip preaches o
the Sunday question and makes new enemiei
Coming home one evening, he finds his wil
in a faint ou the floor, a knife stuck into th
desk and two anonymous scrawls, one at
dressed "To the Preacher," the other "To th
Preacher's Wife." They were warnings t
leave the town. The minister's wife begs he
husband to leave the field for another, but ir
stead he prepares to continue the war agalns
> the devil there and in bis own fashion. Phill
astonishes his parishioners by proposing t
move their church edifice into the tenemen
district. He speaks to the laboring men a
their hall and unintentionally influences thee
against the rich by holding up the selflshnes
or many rich people. When he goes home, h
is informed that a mob is threatening Mi
Winter at his residence. Philip goes to th
scene and rescues Mr. Winter from the mot
Phldp preaches against wasteful expenditure
when the poor are in need and Is visited by i
stranger who asks for food and shelter.
CHAPTER XI.
?t hMwi mnp uurnmn this morning."
A utai v? j wui wtwuv ~ OF
Bald Philip's guest while Mrs. Strong
was removing the small table to the
dining room.
"Did you?" asked Philip, because he
could not think of anything wiser to
say.
"Yes," said the strange visitor simply.
He was so silent after saying this
one word that Philip did what he never
was in the habit of doing. He always
shrank back sensitively from
asking for an opinion of bis preaching
from any one except his wife. But now
he could not help saying:
- "What did you think of it?"
"It was one of the best sermons I
ever heard. But somehow it did no1
sound sincere."
"What?" exclaimed Philip almost an
grily. .If there was one thing he fell
sure about. It was the sincerity of hit
preaching. Then be checked his feel
lng as be thought how foolish it woulc
be to get angry at a passing tramf
who was probably a little out of hit
mind. Yet the man's remark had s
strange power over him. He tried t<
shake it off as be looked harder ai
hiui. The ruau looked over at Pbilii
and repeated gravely, shaking his head
"Not sincere."
.Mrs. Strong came back Into the room
and Philip motioned her to sit dowi
tear him while he said. "And wha
makes you think 1 was not sincereV"
"You said the age in which we 11 ve<
demanded that people live in a far slra
pier, less extravagant style."
"Yes, that is what I said. 1 bellev<
it. too." replied Philip, clasping hi:
hands over Ids knee and gazing at hi:
singular guest with earnestness. Thi
man's thick white hair glistened in thi
open firelight like spun glass.
"And you said that Christ would no
approve of people spending money fo
flowers, food and dress on those wbi
did not need It when it could more wise
ly be expended for the benefit of thos
who were in want."
"Yes. Those were not my exac
words, but that was my idea."
"Your idea. Just so. And yet w
have had here in this little lunch, oi
as you called It. a 'bite of something
three different kinds of meat, two kind
of bread, hothouse grapes and the rict
k est kind of milk."
The man said all this In the quietest
calmest manner possible, and Phili;
stared at him, more assured than eve
?.ot ,voo n littlo rrnzv Mrs. Stron
looked amused aud said. "You seeme
to enjoy the luueli pretty well." Th
man had eateu with a zest that wa
redeemed from greediness ouiy by
delicacy of manner that no tramp eve
possessed.
"My dear madam," said the mat
"perhaps this was a case where th
food was given to one who stood reall
in ueed of it."
Philip started as if lie had suddenl
caught a meaning from the man'
words which he had not before bear
in them.
"I)o you think it was an extravagaii
lunch then?" he asked, with a ver
slight laugh.
The man looked straight at Phili
and replied slowly, "Yes. for the time
In which we live!"
A sudden silence fell ou the group c
three in the parlor of the parsonagi
lighted up by the soft glow of the cot
tire. No one except a person thorougl
ly familiar with the real character t
Philip Strong could have told why th?
silence fell on him instead of a careles
laugh at the crazy remark of a ha)
witted stranger tramp. Just how Ion
the silence lasted he did not kno\t
only, when it was broken, he foun
himself saying:
IFIXION
JP_STRONG.
-ES M. SHELDON,
ild Jesus Do ?," "Malcom Kirk," "Robert
/en Days," Etc.
"Man. who are you? Where are you
s from? And what Is your name?"
His guest turned bis head a little and
!* replied: "When you called me in here,
jt you stretched out your baud and called
a me 'brother.' Just now you called me
? by the great term, 'man.' These are
my names. You may call me 'Brother
? Man.' "
x> "Well. then. 'Brother Man,'" said
j* Philip, smiling a little to think of the
z- very strangeness of the whole affair,
"your reason for thinking 1 was not
is sincere in my sermon this morning was
A " liinnh thlo
10 Decause OI Hie KAiiaia^aui IUULU win
it eveningV
^ "Not altogether. There are other
g reasons." The man suddenly bowed
lt his head between his hands, and Phlli*
Ip's wife whispered to him: 'Philip,
58 what Is the use of talking with a crazy
a man? You are tired, and It Is time to
f put out the lights and go to bed. Get
s him out of the house now as soon as
8 you can."
a The stranger raised bis bead and
went on talking Just as if he had not
broken off abruptly,
d "Other reasons. In your sermon you
ij tell the people they o gbt to live less
n luxuriously. You'point them to the
rg situation In this towu where thousands
e of men are out of, work. You call atg
tentlon to the great poverty and dlso
tress all over the world, and you say
* the times demand that people live far
t simpler, less extravagant lives. And
P yet here you live yourself like a prince.
,t Like a prince." he repeated after a pe?
culiar gesture, which seemed to Include
- nn? nnlv xvlmt wns In the room, but all
f that was In the house,
e Philip glanced at his wife as people
> do when they suspect a third person
a being out of his mind and saw that her
expression was very much like his own
feeling, although not exactly. Then
they both glanced around the room.
It certainly did look luxurious, even
if not princely. The parsonage was
an old mansion which bad once belonged
to a wealthy but eccentric
sea captain. He had built to please
himself, something after the colonial
fashion, and large square rooms, generous
fireplaces, with quaint mantels
and tiling and bard wood floors gave
the house an appearance of solid comfort
that approached luxury. The
church in Milton had purchased the
property from the heirs, who had become
lnvclved in ruinous speculation
noftoH M'lth flrn hnilvio fni' II Klim
auu pat vcu nnu vuv uvwwv ?v. ?
little representing Its real worth. It
had been changed a little and modernized,
although the old fireplaces still re'
malned, and one spare room, an annex
to the house proper, had been added
recently. There was an air of decided
c comfort, bordering on luxury, In the
' different pieces 'of furniture and the
whole appearance of the room.
' "You understand," said Philip, as his
* glance traveled" back to his visitor,
? "that this bouse Is not mine. It be1
longs to my church. It is the parson)
age. and I am simply living In It as
1 the minister."
* "Yes. I understand. You, a minister,
* are living In this princely house while
other people have not where to lay
* their heads."
1 Again Philip f' t the same tempta1
tion to anger steal into him, and again
he checked himself at the thought:
1 "The man is certainly insane. The
* whole thing is simply absurd. 1 will
get rid of him. And yet"?
3 He could uot shake off a strange and
3 powerful Impression which the strun3
ger's words had made upon him. Crazy
l> or not. the man had hinted at the pos- |
? sibility of an insincerity on his part
which made him restless. He deter*
mined to question him and see If he
r really would develop a streak of in3
6auity that would justify him In get*
ing rid of him for the night.
e "Brother Man," he said, using the
term his guest had given him. "do you
I think I am livlug too extravagantly to
live as 1 do?"
e "Yes. In these times and after such a
sermon."
"What would you have me do?" Phil3
ip asked the question half seriously,
half amused at himself for asking advice
from such a source.
"Do as you preach that others ought
P to."
r Again that silence fell over the room.
? And again Philip felt the same imII
pression of power in the strange man's
e words.
8 The "Rrother Man." as he wished to
a l.? ?? II...1 1,1c, l.cod l.nt.cnon ?,ta
r hands again, and Mrs. Strong whispered
to her husband: "Now It Is certainly
worse thau foolish to keep this up any
e longer. The man Is evidently Insane,
y \Ve cannot keep him here all night.
lie will certainly do something terrly
ble. Get rid of him. Fhilip. This may
8 be a trick on the part of the whisky
d men."
Never in all his life had Philip been
11 so puzzled to know what to do with a
y human being. Here was one, the
strangest he had ever met, who had
P come into his house; It Is true he had
!S been invited, but once within he had
invited himself to stay all night and
then had accused Ids entertainer of
living too extravagantly and called
*1 him an insincere preacher. Add to all
! this the singular fact that he had de f
clared his name to be "Brother Man"
and that he spoke with a calmness that
'3 was the very iuc-arnatlon of peace, and
If Philip's wonder reached its limit.
g In response to his wife's appeal
G Philip rose abruptly and went to the
d front door. He opened it, aud a whirl
of snow danced in. The wind had
changed, and the moan of a" comfng
heavy storm was In the air.
The moment that he opened the door
his strange guest also arose, and putting
on his hat be said, as be moved
slowly toward the hall: "1 must be going.
1 thank you for your hospitality,
madam."
Philip stood holding the door partly
open. He was perplexed to know Just
what to do or say.
"Where will you stay tonight?
Where is your home?"
"My home is with my friends," replied
the man. He laid his hand on
the door, opened It and bad stepped
one foot out on the porch when Philip,
seized with an impulse, laid bis hand
on his arm, gently but strongly pulled
him back into the hall, shot the door
and placed his back against it
"You cannot go out Into this storm
until I know whether you have a place
to go to for the night"
The man hesitated curiously, shuffled
his feet on the mat, put his hand
up to bis face and passed it across his
eyes with a gesture of great weariness.
iHI 111
Philip stood holding the door partly open. t
There was a look of loneliness and of
unknown sorrow about his whole fig
ure that touched Philip's keenly sensl- g
tlve spirit Irresistibly. If the man was
a little out of his right mind, he was j
probably harmless. They could not
turn him out into the night if he had c
nowhere to go. ? t
"Brother Man," said Philip gently, g
"would you like to stay here tonight? ^
Have you anywhere else to stay?" r
"You are afraid 1 will do harm. But, ^
no. See. Let us sit down." I,
He laid his hat on the table, resumed p
his seat and asked Philip for a Bible. ^
Philip handed him one. He opened
it and read a chapter from the prophet ^
Isaiah, and then, sitting in the chair, w
bowing his bead between bto hands, ol
he offered a prayer of such wonderful
beauty and spiritual refinement of ex- a
pression that Mr. and Mrs..Strong lis- w
tened with awed astonishment. di
When he had uttered the amen, Mrs. 8]
Strong whispered to Philip: "Surely ai
we cannot shut him out with the
storm. We will give him the spare u]
room." tl
Philip said not a word. He at once in
built up a fire in the room and In a few ci
moments invited the man into it tl
"Brother Man," he said simply, "stay ai
here as If this were your own house. 1e
You are welcome for the night." e:
"Yes, heartily welcome," said Phil- w
Ip's wife, as If to make amends for any it
doubts she had felt before. o1
For reply the "Brother Man" raised hi
his hand almost as If in benediction, k:
And tbey left him to his rest.
: tt
CHAPTER XII. fc
In the morning Philip knocked at bis ai
guest's door to waken him for break* tl
fast. Not a sound could be heard with- 81
in. He waited a little while and then
C
knocked again. It was as still as be- .
fore. He opened the door softly and
looked in. t(
To his amazement, there was no one n;
there. The bed was made up neatly, ir
everything In the room was in Its ti
place, but the strange being who had t<
called himself "Brother Man" was ^
;one. tl
Philip exclaimed, and his wife came A
in. c
"So our queer guest has flown! He a
must have been very still about It. I t<
heard no noise. Where do you suppose a
he is? And who do you suppose he IsV"
"Are you sure there ever was such a v,
person. Philip? Don't you think you e
dreamed all that about the 'Brother n
Man?'" Mrs. Strong had not quite for- o
given Philip for his skeptical question- p
Ing of the reality of the man with the p
lantern who had driven the knife into b
the desk. II
"vps it's vour turn now, Sarah. t<
Well, if our'Brother Man" was a dream 8
he was the most curious dream this d
family ever had, and If be was crazy s
he was the most remarkable insane a
person 1 ever saw." II
"Of course he was crazy. Ail that e
he said about our living so extrava- e
gantly!" p
"Do you think he was crazy in that t
particular?" asked Philip in a strange h
voice. Ills wife noticed it at the time, s
but its true significance did not become n
real to her until afterward. lie went t
to the front door and found it was un- t
locked. Evidently the guest had gone II
out that way. The heavy storm of the t
night had covered up any possible signs d
of footsteps. It was still snowing furl- f
ously. t
Philip went into his study for the c
forenoon as usual, but he did very lit- n
tie writing. Ills wife could hear him 1
pacing the floor restlessly. o
About 10 o'clock he came down stairs t
and declared his Intention of going out
Into the storm to see If he couldn't set- c
tie down to work better. p
He went out and did not return until c
the middle of the afternoon. Mrs. i
Strong was a little alarmed. r
"Where have you been all this time, t
Philip? In this terrible storm too! >
You are a monument of snow. Stand g
>ut here In the kitchen while r sweep
rou off."
Philip obediently stood still while
lis wife walked around him with a
iroom and good naturedly submitted
0 being swept down, "as If I were beng
worked Into shape for a snow
nan," he said.
"Where have you been? Give an ac;ount
of yourself."
"I have been seeing how some other
jeople live. Sarah, the 'Brother Man'
vas not so very crazy after all. He
las more than half converted me."
"Did you find out anything about
llm?"
"Yes: several of the older citizens
lere recognized my description of him.
rhey say be Is harmless and has quite
1 history; was once a wealthy mill
>wner In Clinton. He wanders about
he country, living with any one who
vlll take him In. It Is a queer case. I
nust find out more about him. But
'm hungry. Can I have a bite of somehlng?"
"Haven't you had dinner?"
"No; haven't had time."
"Where have you been?"
"Among the tenements."
"How are the people getting on
here?"
"1 cannot tell. It almost chokes me
o eat when I think of It"
"Now. Philip, what makes you take
t so seriously? How can you help all
hat suffering? You are not to blame
or It"
"Maybe I am for a part of It But
whether 1 nm nr not there the stiffen
ng Is. And I don't know that we ought
o ask who Is to blame in such cases.
it any rate, supposing the fathers and
others in the tenements are to blame
bemselves by their own sinfulness,
loes that make Innocent children and
lelpless babes any warmer or better
lothed and fed? Sarah, I have seen
blngs In these four hours' time that
ake me want to join the bomb throwrs
of Europe almost."
Mrs. Strong came up behind his chair
s he sat at the table eating and placed
ler hand on his brow. She grew more
nxlous every day over his growing
tersonal feeling for others.. It seemed
o her It was becoming a passion with
ilm, wearing him out, and she feared
1b results as winter deepened and the
trlke In the mills remained unbroken.
"You cannot do more than one man,
'hillp," she said, with a sigh.
"No, but If I can only make the
hurch see Its duty at this time and act
he Christlike way a great many pernna
will ho Ho drnnHMl his
nife and fork, wheeled around abuptiv
In bis chair and faced her with
he question, "Would you give up this
lome and be content to live in a slmler
fashion than we have been used
0 since we came here?"
"Yes," replied his wife quietly. "1
rill go anywhere and suffer anything
1th you. What is it you are thinking
f now?" '
"I need a little more time. There Is
crisis near at hand in my thought of
hat Christ would require of me. My
ear, 1 am sure we shSli be led by the
ilrit of truth to do what is necessary
ad for the better saving of men."
He kissed his wife tenderly and went
p stairs again to his work. All
irougb the rest of the afternoon and
t the evening, as be shaped his
lurch and pulpit work, the words of
le "Brother Man" rang in his ears
ad the situation at the tenements rose
1 the successive panoramas before his
Fes. As the storm increased In fury
1th the coming darkness, he felt that
was typical in a certain sense of his
svn condition. He abandoned the work
e had been doing at his desk, and
neeling down at bis couch he prayed,
[rs. Strong, coming up to the study
see bow his work was getting on,
)und him kneeling there and went
ad knelt beside him, while together
ley sought the light through the
torm.
So the weeks went by, and the first
- u a ni> 11
unday of tiie nexi mouiu iuuuu runt's
Christ message even more direct
Dd personal than any be had brought
) his people before. He had spent
mch of the time going into the worklgmen's
houses. The tenement dis ict
was becoming raralliar territory
> him now. He had settled finally
rbat bis own action ought to be. In
aat action his wife fully concurred,
.nd the members of Calvary church,
omlng In that Sunday morning, were
stonlshed at the message of their pasjr
as be spoke to them from the
tandpolnt of modern Christ.
"1 said a month ago that the age in
rhich we live demands a simpler, less
xtravagant style of living. 1 did not
lean by that to condemn the beauties
f art or the marvels of science or the
roducts of civilization. 1 merely emhasized
what 1 believe Is a mighty
ut neglected truth In our modern civization?that
If we would win men
a Christ we must adopt more of his
pirlt of simple and consecrated self
enlal. 1 wish to be distinctly undertood
as I go on that 1 do not condemn
ny maD simply because he Is rich or
ives in a luxurious house, enjoying
very comfort of modern civilization,
very delicacy of the season and all
hysical desires. What I do wish dlsInctly
understood Is the belief, which
as been burned deep Into me ever
Ince coming to this town, that if the
~a Almnnh nrioh trv h/\nnr
aempers ui umo ?.uu>vu w
he Head of the church aDd bring men
o believe him and save them In this
Ife and the next they must be willing
o do far more than they have yet
lone to make use of the physical com*
orts and luxuries ot their homes for
he blessing and ^Christianizing of this
ommunity. id this particular 1 have
tiyself failed to set you an example,
['he fact that I have so failed Is my
mly reason for making this matter
lubllc this mornlug.
"The situation In Milton today is exeedlngly
serious. 1 do not need to
>rove it to you by figures. If any busl*
less man will go through the tenenents.
he will acknowledge my stateuents.
If any woman will contrast
hose dens with her own home, she
vlll, if Christ is a power In her heart,
tand in horror, before such a travesty
on the sacred thought or honor. The Ju
destitution of the neighborhood is
alarming. The number of men out of ^
work is dangerous. The complete re*
movnl of all sympathy between the ^
church up here on this street and the wfl
tenement district is sadder than death.
Oh, my beloved"?Philip stretched out ex(
his arms and uttered a cry that rang in en(
the ears of those who heard it and re- m
mained with some of them a memory UQ]
for years?"these things ought not so tjj|
to be! Where is the Christ spirit with -yy(
us7 Have we not sat in our comforta- ^
ble houses and eaten our pleasant food
and dressed in the finest clothing and ^ei
gone to amusements and entertain* pje
ments without number while God's tba
poor have shivered on the streets and gre
his sinful ones have sneered at Chris* wa
tlanity as they have walked by our on(
church doors? the
"It is true we have given money to cor
charitable causes, it is true the town at
council has organized a bureau for the F
care and maintenance of those in want, the
It is true members of Calvary church, tru
with other churches at this time, have er
done something to relieve the lmmedi* Ins
ate distress of the town, but how much
have we given of ourselves to those In __
need 7 Do we reflect that to reach souls ^
and win them, to bring back humanity 2
to God and the Christ, the Christian
must do something different from the
giving of money now and then? He
must give a part of himself. That was
my reason for urging you to move this Fl*'
church building away from this street
into the tenement district, that we 1
might give ourselves to the people of I
there. The idea is the same In what 1 Aui
now propose. But you will pardon me "
if first of all I announce my own ac- da>
tiou. which. I believe. Is demanded by dov
the times and would be approved by the
our Lord." jug
Philip stepped up nearer the front of big
the platform and spoke with an added das
earnestness and power which thrilled cla^
every hearer. A part of the great con- vin'
a i.t u ?ui-l I? 1 a P
uiui luruugu wuicii ue uau guue iuhi lur
past month shone out in his pale face ban
and found partial utterance in his im- Th<
passioned speech, especially as he olut
drew near the end. The very abrupt- flig
ness of his proposition smote the peo- mei
pie into breathless attention, felli
"The parsonage in which I am liv- wel
Ing is a large, even a luxurious, dwell- to
ing. It has nine large rooms. You are hea
familiar with Its furnishings. The sal- bon
ary this church pays me Is $2,000 a the
year, a sum which more than provides hav
for my necessary wants. What I have bou
decided to do is this: I wish this church are
to reduce this salary one-half and take end
the other thousand dollars to the fitting to f
up the parsonage for a refuge for i8 ?
homeless children or for some such jng
purpose which will commend itself to
your best judgment. There Is money
enough In this church alone to main- .
tain such an lustitution handsomely *
and not a single member of Calvary
suffer any hardship whatever. I will on|'
move into a house nearer the lower 80
part of the town, where 1 can more
easily reach after the people and live f"s
more among them. That Is what I
propose for myself. It is not because 88y
I believe the rich and the educated do H18
not need the gospel or the church. The r"0'
rich and the poor both need the life
more abundantly. But I am firmly
convinced that as matters now are ot
the church membership through pulpit Pou
and pew must give Itself more than ot
In the later ages of the world It has wo'
done for the sake of winning men. The wot
form of self denial must take a defl- wo'
nlte, physical, genuinely sacrificing
shape. The church must get back to 8?"
the apostolic times in some partlcu- 1
lars and an adaptation of community of ver
goods and a sharing of certain aspects
of civilization must mark the church
membership of the coming twentieth
century. An object lesson in self denlal
large enough for men to see, a ^ei
self denial that actually gives up luxuries,
money and even pleasures?this
is the only kind that will make much
Impression on the people. I believe if Bad
Christ was on earth he would Again
?all for this expression of loyalty to j
him. He would again say, 'So like- wjj(
wise whosoever he be of you that for- mo]
saketh not all that he hath, he canuot ^ei
be my disciple.'
"All this Is what I call on the mem- lur|
hers of this church to do. Do I say ^
that you ought to abandon your own ^
houses and live somewhere else? No. tjot
I can decide only for myself In a matter
of that kind. But this much I do
say: Give ourselves in some genuine t
way to save this town from Its evil .
wretchedness. It Is not so much your gn.
money as your own soul that the sickness
of the world needs. This plan has ^
occurred to me: Why could not every
WOl
family In this church become a savior ,
to some other family, Interest Itself In
the other, know the extent of Its wants ,
as far as possible, go to It In person, let c a
the Christian home come into actual
touch with the un-Chrlstlan?In short, am<
become a natural savior to one family? are
There are dozens of families In this
church that could do that. It would
take money. It would take time. It H
would mean real self denial. It would aru
call for all your Christian grace and t'ie
courage, but what does all this .
church membership and church life M01
mean If not just such sacrifice? We lfl?'
cannot give anything to this age of
more value than our own selves. C?M
The world of sin and want and de- f'"r'
spalr and disbelief Is not hungering not
con
for money or mission scuoois or cumlty
balls or state Institutions for the ."er
relief of distress, but for live, pulsing, lcai
loving Christian men and women who mei
reach out live, warm hands, who are ^eal
willing to go and give themselves, who a' ^
will abandon If necessary, If Christ a<'v
calls for It, the luxuries they have uar
these many years enjoyed in order Su"
that the bewildered, disheartened, dis- w^i
contented, unhappy, sinful creatures of 'ng
earth may actually learn of the love of S^'I
God through the love of man. And UP
that is the only way the world ever 8e'9
has learned of the love of God. Hu- ''hr,
manlty brought that love to the heart ?izz
of the race, and it will continue so to sh?
do until this earth's tragedy is all play- to ?
ed and the last light put out. Mem- I
bers of Calvary church. I call on_you bou
Christ's name this day to do someng
for your Master that will really
>w the world that you are what you
r you are when you claim to be a
eiple of that one who, although he
s rich, yet for our sakes became
>r, giving up all heaven's glory In
change for all earth's misery, the
1 of which was a cruel and bloody
iciflxlon. Are we Christ's disciples
less we are willing to follow him In
s particular? We are not our own.
i are bought with a price."
Vhen that Sunday service closed,
Ivary church was stirred to Its
)ths. There were more excited peotalklng
together all over the church
in Philip had ever seen before. He
eted several strangers as usual and
s talking with one of them, when
> of the trustees came up and said
i board would like to meet him. If
ivenient for him, as soon as he was
liberty.
'hillp accordingly waited In one of
Sunday school classrooms with the
stees, who bad met Immediately aftthe
sermon and decided to have an
tant conference with the pastor.
TO BE CONTINUED.
lftw?UancDUji trading.
BOERS ARE "tiAME."
htlng Without Knowledge of Britain'*
He source*.
'he following is an "appreciation"
[he Boer, written by one of the
jtrulians at the front:
Fresh men are swarming up every
' to strengthen Melhuen, while
rn from-his liues at short intervals
Boer prisoners are coming iu, lookgloomy,
sullen and vindictive. A
percentage of them have a strong
h of nigger blood in them, and that
is struck me as being particularly
ri w,i i uu and T u/nnld nnt, irivp mil?>h
a man's life if he fell into their
ids, either wounded or otherwise.
5 Boers themselves are a better
ss; the young oues are rather
hly and-given to brag ; but the old
ii are rough, rugged, game-looking
ows, w ho look like hunters who are
I used to hardships, and are ready
let their rifles take care of their
ds. This latter kind is the backe
of the Boer forces. I doubt if
y will bo easily subdued. They
e little knowledge of Britain's
ndless resources, and the way we
pouring troops in is a source of
less wonder to them. They seem
ancy that the whole British nation
'trekking" for the purpose of stayon
the soil if they can conquer it.
?y often ask when the women and
Idren will be coming over. It is
lossible to convince these old backjdsmen
that the troops here are
y a portion of our army, and bavhing
to do with the general popula
i of our country. wnen 1 leu luem
i sort of thing they simply shake
ir beads with a knowing smile, and
: 'Oom Paul Kruger knows better
that; we will kill most of the
glish and take Capetown yet, for
I and our rifles with us.' "
It is useless to argue with an old
sr. One might as well try to exnd
Euclid to a cross eyed camel,
h would listen to you ; but neither
ild profit by your labor. The camel
ild chew the cud, and the Boer
ild chew tobacco, and both would
ectorate freely as soon as you left.
I nothing further would come of it.
now the class. We have something
y similar among the old German
lers in the hackbacks of Australia,
emu is more amenable to reason
n they are, and no man ever lived
3 could knock sense into an emu."?
V York Sun.
THE VICTORIA CROSS.
ge of Honor For Which the British
Soldiers Straggle.
t is probable that of the 70,000 men
} have sailed during the past two
aths from England for South Africa,
re is hardly a single officer or solr
who does not look forward to reoiug
home with that little bronzge
known as the Victoria cross pinupon
his breast. It is a distiuci
that is within the reach of every
mber of the entire force, from the
isional generals down to the smallbugler
or drummer boy, and there
ot one of them who would not intely
prefer it to any form of prolion.
For its possession indicates
t its owner is in every sense of the
d a hero, the cross being conferred
y for some signal act of altogether
eptional bravery, partaking of the
racter of heroism. It was founded
the time of the Crimeuu war, and
Dug those whose breasts it adorns
generals such as Sir Redvers Bui
who commands in chief in South
ica, Field Marshal Lord Roberts,
I plain, ordinary privates in the
ly. In fact, at least 50 per cent, ol
200 Victoria cross men won the
i net ion as privates or uon-commisied
officers of the army and as com
ii sailors in the navy.
ir Redvers Buller, for instance, re
red his Victoria cross for riding back
ee tiroes in one day in the face of a
ly pursuing foe to rescue wouuded
irades aud soldiers. Lord William
esford, who is married to an Amer
i lady, the widowed Mrs. Ham
rsley, of New York, received it fui
is of a similar character. Gener
3ir Evelyu Wood got it in Iudia foi
ancing under a heavy tire along a
row causeway to place a bag ol
ipowder against the gate of a city
ich the English were to storm durthe
mutiny, while at least two mid
jmen received the cross for picking
bombs from the decks of their vesi
during the Criraeau war and
}wing them overboard before the
liug fuse bad time to explode the
II and carry death and destruction
ill around it.
the case of military men the ribis
of red, while in the navy the
m
ribbon is blue. The metal of which
the cross is made is of that same kind
of bronze that 50 years ago was used
for fieldguns. The cross is of the style
known as Maltese ; has the royal crown
surmounted by the lion in the center,
and underneath a scroll beariog the
inscription, "For valor." It is hung
suspended by a "V" ring to a bar, on
the reverse side of which the rank and
name of the recipient is engraved,
while on the cross itself are inscribed
the name aud date of the action in
which the bouor was won.
Any additional act of bravery which
would have won the Victoria cross for
its holder had he not already possessed
it, is sigualized by a bar or clasp
being added to the ribbon just above
the bar from which the cross is suspended.
The cross carries with it a
pension of $50 a year, and au additional
$25 is given for each bar. To
the best of my knowledge there is no
Victoria cross man who can boast of
an additional bar to bis cross.
It must be thoroughly understood
that the feats of bravery for which the
cross is conferred must have been performed
in wartimes, and to all intents
aud purposes under the fire of the
enemy. Acts of bravery in times of
peace do uot receive any such recognition,
and although Admiral Lord
Charles Beresford has on several occasions
risked bis life at sea by diving
overboard from a ship to save fellow
officers and sailors from drowning, yet
he has never received the Victoria
cross, which as stated above, was
granted to bis brother "Bill" for rescuing
one wounded trooper under
tire.?St. Louis Post Dispatch.
PENSIONS FUR CONFEDERATES.
Time that Justice Being Done to Mexican
War Veterans.
Senator Tillman, says a Washington
dispatch, has come out squarely
in favor of the granting of pensions
to ex Confederates who served in the
Mexican war. Every Southern senator
is in favor of this act of justice being
extended, and it is the opinion of
many that the time is not far distant
before this will be done by the
Congress of the United Slates. Senator
Tillman, in the senate, the other day
announced his position in au emphatic
manner during the cousideratiou of
a measure, which was pending, granting
pensions to ex Confederates who
served during the Spanish war. The
senator from South Carolina gave this
measure his hearty support, as did all
the other ex Confederate members
in the senate, only one of whom served
in the Mexican war. Senator
Tillman said he could really see no
reason why pensions should be granted
to the class which upheld the Un- ^
ion in the Spanish war, and refused to
those who had defended their coun
try and their flag in the war against
Mexico. Other ex-Confederates in the
senate expressed the same opinion ;
but no movement was made to include
the latter class. It is stated that the
amount involved in granting pensions
to this class of ex-Confederates who
served in the war of 1849 would be
practically very small.
In connection with this, it may be
interesting to know that in the senate
of the United States there is only one
senator who served in the war with
Mexico. This senator is Senator Pettus,
of Alabama. The Alabama Senator
was a lieutenant in the volunteer
army during the Mexican war. Senator
Pettus voted for the measure in
the senate, giving ex-Confederates who
served in the Spanish war pensions ;
but if the same act was extended to
Mexican war veterans, it is not likely
that he would ask the bounty of Uncle
Sam.
SILVER AND GOLD PRODUCT.
The World'* Supply La*t Tear?American
Gold Supply Steadily Inoreaitinff.
The Engineering and Miuing Journal
tinds that the total production of
gold in the year 1899 was for the en
tire world 1313,945,468, an increase oi
$24,806,689 over the preceding year.
The loss of yearly product due to the
war in South Africa is estimated at
$20,000,000. The gold output of the
United States was $72,483,055; of Australasia,
$78,082,171; of the Transvaal
$73,108,650; of Russia, $24,072,344; of
Cauada,$18,049,593; of Mexico, $9,277,351;
of British India, $8,498,571; of
China, $6,742,190. Rhodesia appears
among the minor producers of gold,
her product in 1899 reaching $1,110,953.
The war seems not to have interfered,
so far, with the Rhodesian
output. As the richness of the mines
there has been demonstrated by the
practical tests of working, a large increase
of product is expected when
more machinery is introduced. The
three Guianas are credited with an
output of $3,844,962, Columbia with
$3,700,000, Brazil with $2,531,687,
Hungary with $2,838,993 and Korea
with $1,094,000.
The silver production of the United
States was about 63,000,000 ounces, or
4,000,000 more thau in 1898. The
price has ranged from 61.2 cents an
ounce in May, to 67.9 cents in October.
The average for the year was 59.5
cents, against 58.2 cents in 1898 aud
59.7 cents in 1897. China and other
eastern couulries have taken increased
quantities of silver. There was an
outward movemeut of gold in December
approximatiug $15,000,000, and
this movement still continues, being
caused by the London demand. It is
to be noted that this outflow is small
when compared with the addition of
$72,000,000 made to our stock during
the year by our mines. We not only
obtained considerable amounts by importation?the
excess of imports over
exports was, $12,192,818?but we retained
nearly all of our own large production.
Our stock of gold, even without
imports and in spite of the exports,
is constantly being increased and is
now the largest ever recorded. Our
exports of silver in 1899 exceeded our
imports by $20,000,000.