Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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/ * * "Do you tiilnk T mlpbt see him? I w ;ltl like to look on his face.” . ••!!!* .vk - John (iordon rose, parted the curtains and beckoned. The old lady foliov 1 and soon stood looking at the wa.'Ud "ace. She stood a moment silently gazing, then she put out a hand, which Gor don had noted before as astonishingly white and beautiful for such an aged person, and softly touched Ilarton’s head. As she straightened up and stepped back. Gordon saw that she was much agitated. He offered her assistance to walk back into the hall. i&jM accepted with tin old fashioned acWiowl 'dgment of his politeness that touched him deeply. When they were in the hall she said, “Will you tell him I came to see him:'’ Gordon was thinking it over. Would Barton care to have his secret known? "Yes. 1 will tell him.” "1 think it will be better to let him know Yes. it will be better,” the old lady said with approval. “The time will not be long. Will you write me when the end comes for him?” “Yes. madam. I thank you for him that you came.” “The pilgrimage Is brief at the lon gest,” she said with a strong gravity that was far from gloom. “But sure ly your friend has redeemed his time. I am glad 1 saw his face. Y'es. glad.” > Gordon offered to see her to the train, but she firmly refused to be of any trouble to any one. “I am able to go alone. A carriage is waiting for me. Good night, sir, and God be with you." "Good night, madam,” replied Gor don. Williams appeared ami opened the door. Gordon insisted on seeing her down the steps and into the car riage. He had shut the door and the driver had just started his horse when the old lady stopped the driver with a Word, her fine sharp cut face looking •out of the window. “Tell your friend 1 will write. It Will not I)o long before we shall meet.” The carriage went on. and Gordon walked up the steps and into the hall with a feeling that he had been dream- “ Who are you?” ing. Cut the perfume of a cedar chest Just opened aiier a long sea voyage lingered in the hall and followed him iuto the rooms as he thoughtfully went in again and took a look at Barton before resting. In the morning when Gordon came out of ills room he found Barton up and whistling. He noticed his friend’s apparently improved condition. “You had a caller last night after you fell asleep.” “That so? Some one from the of fice?” Barton asked carelessly. “An old lady off an East Indiaman dated 1785.” “I’m too tired to guess. Explain.” “Here is her card.” Gordon handed it to Barton. ./“Mrs. Captain George Effingham, palern,” Barton read. Then his cheeks 'showed a color in addition to the un natural glow there. Gordon went up and put a hand on his arm. “David, I know now why—why”— “Say, you aren't going to cry, are your” "Cry! I’ve been crying all night. To think that you”— "Well, why shouldn't 1 enjoy trips to Colorado, even if I can't personally conduct them? Tell me about the old lady. Effingham said bis grandmother was going on a hundred. Sorry 1 missed seeing her. I expect she is a picture.” “A picture! She is a romance. You would have fallen in love with her at wnce. She brought into the room the fragrance of cinnamon and cloves and spice from the islands of the sea. Don’t you detect it now?” “Smells to me like Williams’ coffee,” replied Barton, sniffing critically. “But tell me about her.” f Gordon described the visit as vivid ly as possible. When he had finished, there was a suspicion of moisture in Barton’s eyes. “She wanted me to tell you she would write.” “First love letter I’ll ever get,” sighed Barton whimsically. “1 expect she’s rich.” “No doubt. I can imagine the square old fashioned house she owns in Sa lem—colonial front, fan window ar rangement over the doors and a stair- ■Wse big enough to drive up a double But, oh, David, why did you hot go out there yourself before”— "Before It was too late? No good. Case is chronic. Let’s change the sub ject. Tell me about Mr. Marsh.” “But how many persons are you sup porting in Colorado?” “Don’t remember. Quit It or you will bring on my cough. It always gets me when inconsiderate friends In sist on talking about it.” So Gordon took up the day’s experi ence with Mr. Marsh while Williams brought in the coffee and rolls, and Bar ton seemed unusually cheerful and fun ny. When Gordon rose to go, Barton said: “I think maybe I’ll get down to the office next week. But come up as often as you can. old man, won’t you?” Gordon promised, with a choking In his throat as he shook hands, and went off, carrying with him a memory that was both sad and inspiring. After he had gone out David Barton went over to the couch and, kneeling down, sobbed like a child. He was a gifted man, only forty years old, and life was very sweet to him. The first thing John Gordon did on reaching Hope House was to confer with Miss Andrews. “Do you think Mr. Marsh will do anything?” she asked. “I think so—yes.” But Gordon’s re ply was not very strong. “You are In doubt. He was deeply impressed. But, If I mistake not, he is the kind of man to delay any move that means a real financial loss. His horror of the tenement conditions is not equal to his dread of ultimate money loss If he tears the double decker down or remodels it.” “I’m afraid—yes,” Gordon answered, with a sigh. “But of course,” he said after awhile, "you have used your influence with the board of health and the city offi cials and all other departments.” “Yes,” Miss Andrews answered quiet ly- “But conditions are getting worse. Why?” “Ask Tommy Randall.” “The political boss?” “Of course you know he Is the rock on which most of our reforms split.” “I have never mot him. Of course you have been to him personally?” “Often. He's the most dangerous man in the city. He is utterly devoid of conscience. I have never found a single quality in him to which I could appeal. But, if he would, he could move the powers that be to right near ly every wrong in the ward.” Gordon was on the point of going on with the inquiries, for what he had heard of Tommy Randall, the boss, surrounded that potent force with a certain human fascination, but Miss Andrews was called away, and the talk was not renewed until they met again at dinner. For a week John Gordon continued his special investigation with Ford, the university student. The work took him into another block. Coming back one evening from the district, he passed by No. 91, and the sight of an unusual commotion there caused him to stop and go in. He thought of his little friend, Louie, and reproached himself for not having gone to see him or make inquiries. But the child was only one of hundreds for whom his heart was beginning to bleed as the unending ag ony of childhood’s tragedy in the tene ments was beginning to be unfolded to him. He went into the court and up the staircase and out upon the corridor. Several women there seemed agitated by some recent occurrences. "What is it?” he asked of one of the women, who was crying into a dirty apron. “Louie’s dead,” she replied and re sumed her crying. John Gordon stepped to the door leading into Mrs. Caylor’s. The moth er met him there. Her face was hard and tearless. “May 1 go in?” Gordon asked gently. The woman made no reply, and Gor don went on. The rooms were lighted with candles. Several women were in the loom. A man was standing by a table on which was a rough pine coffin, at which he was looking with disgust or contempt. He looked up as Gordon came in. “Who are you?” was the man’s rough greeting. ’ a I v name is John Gordin of Hop*- (■Jon**'! ” The man turned suddenly rn one of ’•he women who stood looking on sub missively ‘ Take the thing out ” pointing to the ceflin, “and t-li Abr«ms to send up something better or he’ll heir from me.” And tins was John Gordon’s intro duction to Tommy RandaH, the polit ical boss of Hope House district. This story will be continued in next Friday’s issue of The Ledger. .More It lots. Disturbances of sfnk ts are not nearly as grave as an individual dis order of the system. Overwork, loss ot sleep nervous tension will be fol lowed by utter collapse, unless a re liable remedy is immediately em ployed. There’s not hing so effioient to cure disorders of the Liver or K d- oey• as Electric Bitters. It’t a wonder- nl'onic, and effective nervine and the greatest all around medicine for run down systems. Itdispels Nervous ness, Rheumatism and Neuralgia and expels Malaria germs. Only bOc, and satisfaction guaranteed by Gherokee Drug Co. The b Q Hut y about a rich wife is that she can get as mad as a horire; with out. being called by her hu-band a shrew. Danger of l*u<-unionia. A cold at this time is liable to cause pr eumonia which is so often fatal, and even when the patient has recov ered the lungs are weakened, making them peculiarly susceptible to the development of consumption. Foley’s Honey and Tar will stop the cough, heal and strengthen the lungs and prevent pneumonia. Cherokee Drug Co. TALMAGE SERMON at By Rev. FRANK DE WITT TALMAGE. D.D.. Pastor of Jefferson Park Presby terian Church, Chicago -■ . <, Chicago, March 1. — In this sermon the preacher gives striking modern ap plication to the parable of the wedding feast and the varied excuses sent by those who absented themselves, but who desired to conceal the real reason. The text is Luke xlv, 18, “And they all with one consent began to make ex cuse.” It is comparatively seldom that men are convinced by argument. In every period the great discoverer or philoso pher, howsoever irrefutable bis argu ments, has been treated with incredul ity and sometimes with ridicule. The little children used to point their fin gers to their foreheads when the Genoa tea captain passed by, and all Europe called Columbus crazy because he be lieved in circumnavigation. Up to Kepler’s time this world was supposed to be a groat animal, the wind its breath, the sulphur and mineral veins its ulcers, the eruption and volcanic pulsations Its coughings. Galilei had to publicly renounce the theory which lie could logically prove because the church considered it heresy. The young scientist who read a paper some years ago arguing that the coral islands were built by a small insect was persecuted and expelled from the Frenc® academy, and, broken hearted and in disgrace, be committed suicide. To introduce any innovation into the realm of thought by the power of argument is a task that few have the courage to attempt and fewer still the power to achieve. But though argument and fact are often futile there are two wizards who can always charm—he who can tell a story and he who can paint a picture. With one flash the artist of the brush or pen can carry the truth home. The public speaker who wields the greatest influence today is not the scientist or the logician, but the orator who can tell the common people what a thing is like. Christ nearly always spoke in parables. His analogies were the wheat and the tares and the mustard seed and the birds of the air and the lilies of the valley. Everybody can understand a similitude. One of these matchless similitudes is the scene of the text. The kingdom of heaven is compared to a feast to which many guests have been invited. Man ners and customs change, but in all periods and in all lands the idea of a feast lias been familiar. They have been celebrated from time immemorial. Laban made a great feast when lie gave ids daughter Leah in marriage to Jacob. Archelaus made a great feast for those wiio came to his father’s fu neral. Kenilworth castle blazed and cannons boomed during the days of Elizabeth, and courtiers drank to the health of the queen. Feast of the Pass- over. feast of Pentecost, feast of Taber nacles, were the three great annual festal occasions of the Jews. The holy communion was instituted at a feast of Christ and his twelve apostles. The comparison of the kingdom of heaven to a feast is, therefore, a very simple and familiar one. But, hark! When the time comes for the guests to | arrive, knock after knock is heard. Regret after regret is handed in. In sult is heaped upon insult. “And they all with one consent began to make excuse.” Excux<?» Olil uud New. Let us examine the excuses by which the men of old evaded this feast and see how closely they resemble the ex cuses by which men of the present day try to justify themselves In their re fusal to sit down at the marriage ban quet of the Lamb. First, the capital ist’s excuse. Hardly had the ancient banquet table been prepared when we can see a courier’s horse dasli up to the would be host's house. The messenger is dressed in the liveried costume of one of the rich men of the east. He dismounts and knocks at the front door. When the servant opens that door, the messenger hands in a scented missive which reads something like this: “My dear friend, much to my regret, I find it impossible to be with you tonight. I know you expected me, but I have just closed a big deal. I have become the owner of a large tract of land, and I must go out and see It. 1 pray thee baA’e me excused. Though 1 am com pelled to be absent in body, yet I shall be with you tonight in spirit. Adieu, my dear sir, until we meet at my own table.” When the good man of the house receives this letter, his eye flashes. The Bible distinctly declares in reference to this episode: “Then the master of the house being angry”— He read between the lines of that refusal. He knew that this capitalist was mak ing a poor excuse; he knew that the capitalist as an intelligent investor would never have bought that land un less he hud first seen it, examined it and ascertained that its title deeds were all right. The good man may have had his suspicion that the capi talist of the east, now that he was a great landowner, felt a little above bis old associates and therefore may have thought it was not dignified for him to mingle with ordinary guests at a com mon banquet, uud thus he stayed away. So Ave find that the hardest men and women to reach in a gospel sense are the rich people. They do not always think it respectable to associate with representatives of the masses In a church pew. They would be willing to go to heaven if they cotuld only go in n gilded chariot, as a king might go to Westminster abbey and be crowned. They would gladly go if they could only bribe their way thei i by a million dollar check. Bat they are not willing to be suppliants after the Bread of Life when their own granaries are full of winter supplies and their thrashing floors crowded with the thrashers beat ing and bruising the grain. Rich man, I would like to speak a few plain, blunt words to you. There are certain blessings that money can not buy. First, it cannot buy health. Money may enable the consumptive to live among the flowers, and it may prolong an invalid’s earthly life, lint, in the broad sense, money cannot buy health. If money could buy bealtb, William McKinley would never have died. If money could buy health, the late Cornelius Vanderbilt would never have struggled on as a helpless invalid and been carried out to the tomb when yet a young man. If money was all powerful, that Broadway merchant would have recovered his sight when, a few years ago, he offered $1,000,000 to any surgeon whose knife would cut his curtain of the night in twain. Love Cannot Be Bought. Neither will money buy love. Money may buy sycophancy. It may make servants and so called friends bow and cringe before us, but the songstress of love is not a hireling who sings her seraphic strains to the jingling accom paniment of golden coins. True love is won by the heart, not by the purse. True love is found smiling as winsome- ly in a cottage as in a palace. Neither, O ricli man, can you Avitli money buy your way into heaven. If you have no time to seek God in bis bouse on earth, you will not be able to find Christ in mansions in the skies. If you do not honor your Saviour before men, nei ther will Christ honor you before the angels, who are now assembled about the great white throne of the celestial city. “How much did lie leave?” asked a gentleman in reference to a certain deceased ricli man. “He left every- thing,” was the answer. “His shroud had no pocket, so far as I could see.” So, rich man, you will take before the judgment seat of Christ not what you now bold in your hand, but what you have in your heart. Therefore, it is very important that you do not with fatal self complacency as to your wealth and social prestige and your ownership of mortgages and bonds and laud titles blind your eyes to the im portance of going to the gospel ban quet. But another knock is heard at the front door of the good man’s house. A second letter of regret is handed in. This letter goes something like this: “My dear friend, I know you have made great preparations for me to night, but I cannot come. I am a small farmer and have just bought a yoke of oxen to do my spring plowing, and I must go and do it.” Or the letter will read as follows: "My dear friend, I cannot come tonight. I have just bought live yoke of oxen, and I intend to hire myself out to the different farmers to help them do their spring plowing. We must make money while we can. And even if I could get through my work in time to come I would bo so tired that I could not en joy your good tilings. I pray thee have me excused.” In other words, that stock purchaser was going around as the modern owners of some baling ma chines go from farm to farm to pack the bay. or as the owners of some of the modern thrashing machines in the rural districts cut down their neigh bors’ grain upon a percentage basis. Whom in modern life does this stock owner represent? He symbolizes the puacticing doctor or lawyer or small merchant or manufacturer or mechan ic or salaried employee engaged in a daily struggle for a livelihood. He represents, as Matthew Henry well wrote, the man with “the inordinate care and concern about this world which keep him from Christ and his grace.” He represents the father and husband who on Saturday night says: “Well, I have worked hard all the week. I am too tired to go to church tomorrow and do God’s work. It is all well enough to think about religion, but the simple fact is, in this strenuous earthly life I must look after my busi ness and keep looking after it all the time.” lie represents the business man who at first does not intend to do Ayrong, lint, little by little, he alloAA T s his business to ctoavU out his duties to Christ. First, he gives up prayer meet ing on account of business; then bis daily reading of the Bible; then his Sunday services. Little by little lie allo\A’s himself to drift aAvny from God until at last the invitation to the gos pel banquet|fnlis upon unheeding ears. The inordinate desire for accumulating Avealth has destroyed many and many an immortal soul. A feAV score years ago a steamer croAvded Avith passen gers Avas pushing its Avay over the AA'a- ters of the Mississippi river. Upon the deck Avere a great number of Califor nia miners returning from the gold fields of the AA'est. Suddenly that steamer struck a sunken wreck and immediately began to sink. The wom en and the children were taken off in lifeboats. The men Avere compelled to leap into the Avater and cling to the floating spars until they could be res cued. Just before the steamer founder ed a man rushed up to the deck and leaped Into the Avater and clung to a floating spar. But instead of floating like the rest of the men he sank like a lump of lead. Afterward his body was recovered, and the reason of the sink ing was explained. While the other passengers of the sinking vessel were preparing rafts and putting on life preservers this man had been below decks rifling the miners’ trunks. Un der his garments, strapped around his waist, Avere found bags of gold. It was his desire for wealth that destroy ed him. So we find that there are thousands upon thousands of men and women who refuse to come to the Lord’s banquet because, like the droAvn- Ing passenger of the Mississippi river or like the owner of five yoke of oxen, they AA’ould prefer to stay away to make money. Such men feel that they would be willing for a time even to barter away their chance of heaven if Alley couid only sell Christ, as did Ju das, for thirty pieces of silver. O my friends. 1 beg and plead Avith you not to sell your divine birthright for a mere mess of pottage! Stop, in God's name! Stop before it is too late. In the ancient story we have been told That Midas’ touch turned everything to gold. But we today a stranger sight behold— Man turns to everything when touched by gold. The Bridegroom's Excuse. But, hark! Another knock is heard at the door of the good man’s house. “Aha,” you say, “think of the foolish excuse this third expected guest has sent! He says that lie is a bridegroom and therefore cannot come. Why did he not do as Mr. Moody said he ought to have done—go to the banquet ball and take his tvife along?” But, my friend, this excuse of the bridegroom ought not to be to you an object of derision. Of all the excuses whieli Christ stated In the parable I think this one was the most plausible and the most rational. The bridegroom in the east, by the custom of that time, might be looked upon leniently for an swering as be did. The Hebrews con sidered marriage one of the most sacred and important events of a human be ing’s life. Every young girl spent her time chiefly in preparing for her nup tial day. She Avas ahA'aya spinning linen and making garments for the wedding trousseau. Every young man avus taught that his duty to the world and to God Avas to marry. He did not enter into this marriage relationship in a haphazard AA'ay, as do many of the young people of the present time. He did not marry upon a momentary im pulse. But the young people Avere of ten affianced for years before the wed ding day. Then, by the old Hebrew as AA’ell as by the Roman law, a bride groom was absolutely independent of all military and. to a great extent, of civil obligations for a Avhole year. Aft er the Avedding night for twelve long months lie Avas alloAved to stay at home under his own roof. So when the bride groom of the east sent a refusal to come to the banquet lie practically said, as hundreds and thousands of wives and mothers are now r saying: “I can not afford to come to Christ’s banquet at the present time. I have my home duties to attend to. I have domestic obligations. I pray thee have me ex cused.” But, my dear friends, can the hus band and the Avife truly attend to and fulfill their domestic relations unless they first have been to the marriage banquet of the Lamb? No, no. You know’ that no husband and father is truly a well equipped parent unless he Is a Christian man; you know that no wife is truly an independent woman unless she is a Christian AA’omau. Legli Richmond once developed this thought in a pathetic incident which he told about his mother’s life. She had six children, and one of them, her baby. Avas killed by the carelessness of a nurse allowing the child to fall out of a second story window’. At that time Legh Richmond avus vralking in the street beloAV. He gathered up the poor bleeding body of his little brother and carried him into the house and placed him in his mother's lap. All that day the mother kept praying and praying In the midst of her prayers she turned to her son and said. “Legh, if I cease praying for five minutes I shall he crushed under this sorrow, but w’ben I pray to God he comforts and upholds me." So no wife and mother is able to bravely confront the sorrows of the home unless she is a Christian Avomau. Sooner or later troubles and awful troubles Avill knock at every bedroom door, and, man and Avoman, you cannot afford to say, like the bridegroom of old, that you cannot come to Christ on account of your domestic obligations. The simple fact is your home duties and sorrows ought to be mighty inspi rations to send you to the feet of Christ. Tlie Duty of Tarenta. Besides, parents, hoAv can you have the right influence over your children unless you are consecrated Christian men and Avomen? How can a father and mother tell their children hoAv to loA’e the Lord Jesus unless they them selves have accepted the invitation to the gospel banquet? Can the blind lead the blind? Can something come from nothing? 1 lift a clay vase in my hand and smell the sweetest fragrance. 1 say: “O vase, Avheuce came thy per fume? Were thy substances fragrant before the hot fires of the potter’s fur nace touched thee?” “Nay,” answers the vase. “The reason I am perfumed is because hundreds of flowers have been plucked and have been allowed to kiss me Avith their red and white lips.” Upon the sand dunes of the sea shore I pick up a "curiously tAvisted shell. I place it to my ear and hear a Ioav, moaning sound. I say to the shell, “Shell, Avhy dost thou moan like a sick child?” “Because,” ausAvers the shell, “I Uive been rolled over and over in the bottom of the seas. I have been al- loAved to place my ear against the great throbbing, aching heart of the mighty deep. I am merely echoing the sorroAV of the sea waves that are uoav lapping at thy feet.” Thus Ave find that by the direct Iuav of nature there is no effect Avithout a cause. If you, O parents, desire your children’s lives to be redolent wdth the perfume of right eousness and their hearts and lips to be musical with the songs of heaven, you must take care that they are sur rounded witli heavenly influences Avhile they are young. If you Avant them to be at the gospel banquet, you must lead the way and not yourselves au- SAver the Invitation with a frivolous excuse. Let us try to geueralize the excuses of the hundreds of other guests under two simple headings. First, I believe that “they all Avith one consent began to make excuse” because they were unwilling at that time to gh’e up thei” sins. To hear some people talk, one would suppose that the greatest enemy of the Christian church today ia infidel thought. I do not believe it. I believe that the reason you and I do not come to Christ, if we are not already Chris tians, is because we are not ready to give up our pet sins. We do not stand before God in an attitude of a doubter. We stand in the attitude of defiance. We stand wrapped around by the pol luted garment of sin. “And deliberate sin, what is it?” once cried out Joseph Parker. “It is a shut hand, a clinched fist, an upraised arm, the muscles to the full tension, and the object God Almighty’s face.” Sin is the cause of ninety-nine in every hundred refusals to come to Christ; not skepticism, not infidelity, not agnosticism, not doubt If I as a messenger of God come to you with the gospel invitation and you refuse to come, 1 know that in all probability, deep down in your heart, you are concealing some secret sin which you refuse to give up. Oh, the destroying poAver of sin! Some years ago a diver Avas sent doAvn to explore the bottom of the sea. While there he thrust his hand into a hole which seemed to be the retreat of some kind of a living creature. In stantly his arm was seized as by a vise. The long tentacles of an octopus AA’ound themselves about his arm. He dared not give the signal for the friends overhead to pull him up because he knew that his arm w’onld be pulled off, but be had presence of mind enough to take a sharp stool knife which he had strapped to his side and Avith it he cut off the arms of that octopus, and when the diver avus pulled up attached to ids body were the arms of that oc topus, still clinging, one of the tenta cles over eight feet long. The octopus of secret sin has many a man and Avo man in a fatal clutch. We are not will ing to destroy that sin uoav. Therefore Ave keep saying to the messenger of the gospel, "1 pray thee have me excused.” The next reason why “they all with one consent began to make excuse” was because they expected at some fu ture time to accept the gospel invita tion. This is a most natural supposi tion to make in interpreting the text. They might IniA’e stayed aAvay and made no excuse, but then the host AA'ould have been offended and Avould never have invited them again. They wanted to keep his good Avill so that he might invite them at some future time. If those invited guests never expected to accept an invitation to the good man’s house, they would have said to themselves: “What is the good of my sitting down every little while and Avriting to that good man that 1 cannot accept bis invitations? He is becoming nothing but a perfect bore. What I will do hereafter is just to tbroAV his invitations into the waste basket. Then, after awhile, he will cease to write and Avill stop his impor tunities.” But, no. That is not the course these invited guests took. They P’.v. 'tleally said to themselves, “I will keep on sending my declination, year in and year out, and then some day, Avhen 1 am old and sick and helpless and about to die, I Avill just be carried down on my sickbed and that good man AA’ill take care of me and forgiA’e all the indifference and sin of my past life.” You expect to some day come to Christ, but you keep saying to the gos pel messenger: "Not now. Not now. Not HOAV.” Accept the Invllutiim Now. My brother and sister invited to Je sus Christ, I am not going to force you to any decision. I am going to leaA’e the Avhole matter Avith yourself. In stead of asking you to come to the gos pel banquet uoav I am going to ask you when you will come. Will you come to Christ ten years from today? “Oh, no,” you ansAA’er; "1 would not like to post pone the gospel invitation as long as that. I may never live ten year’s. Ten years is a very long time. As I look back over my past life 1 can see hoAv many unexpected things have hap pened during ten years. Many of my best and dearest friends have died dur ing those ten years. They Avere just as young and strong as 1 am now. I cannot afford to Avail ten years.” Then will you come in liAe years? “No; I Avill not delay it five years. That is also too long. I have had certain warn ings that I may not live five years. There Avas a strange pain in my heart; there was that dizzy sensation in my head.” Then Avill you come next year or next month to the gospel banquet? "No,” you ansAA’er: “I dare not postpone this gospel invitation for a year or even for a month. I know that the gospel invitation Avill not press itself upon me in a month Avith the same power as it is uoav doing. Each day I postpone this matter it is harder for me to come." Then, my brother and sister, will you accept this gospel invitation now? The ancients had a beautiful custom at every feast. When the guest Avould ask of the host a gift, he felt compelled to grant his request. If a guest would ask for the silver chalice at his plate, he could have it, or if he might ask for qne of the richly embroidered robes— Avhich AA’ere always provided for the marriage banquets and were called the wedding garments—he would have that also. My sinful brother, at the Aved- ding banquet of the Lamb, will you not make a request of your Heavenly Fa ther, as you have a right to do? Will you not ask for a full pardon of your sins? Will you not ask for a robe of righteousness Avhich has been crim soned from the blood of the Calvary cross? [Copyright. 1!H)3. by Louis Klopsch.] Lincoln mul Chnrcli. George M. Black of Springfield, 111., has been treasurer of the First Presby terian church of that city for many years. At the recent seventy-fifth an niversary of the church Mr. Black, avIio kncAV Abraham Lincoln, took the occa sion to deny the statement recently made that President Lincoln avus not a cburcbgoing man. Mr. Black de clared that Lincoln not only attended regularly, but was exceedingly prompt In paying the quarterly pew rent.