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^ ^TEARS, ID! Tears, idle tears, I know n Tears trow the depth of some Rise in the heart, and gather In looking on the happy Autu And thinking of the days that ? Fresh as the first beam glitt That brings our friends up fr Sad as the last which reddens That sinks with all we love b So sad, so fresh, the days that Ah, sad and strange as in d The earliest pipe of half-aw To dying ears, when unto dyi [ The casement slowly grows a So sad, so strange, the days t Dear as remembered kisses And sweet as those by hopeles . On lips that are for others; d Deep as first love, and wild w O Death in Life, the days that f| Minimi 1 . SI By B.F m RjHEN my youngest u?cle came home and told my ^/IT I grandfather tliar be was JJ engaged to Miss Smitnerson, the dear, old man was paralyzed with dismay, and all the relations and friends who knew Miss Smitherson were paralyzed, too. and expressed their opinion that my uncle had been thwarted through the machinations of old Smitherson. This was ten years or so before I was born. By that time the lady had quarreled with half her husband's relations. and by the time I was eighteen she had quarreled with, the other half, only excepting- myself, to whom, for some unaccountable reason, she had conceived a violent and somewhat embarrassing affection. As by this time my parents were dead and had left their children veiy ill-provided for. we thought it better from prudential motives to encourage this affection, my annt being one of our feu- prosperous relations, and our only wealthy one. as. In addition to her own fortune, she had caused my late uncle to make a will leaving her absolute mistress of all he possessed: so when he died she was worth a considerable fortune. Her two sons were entirely dependent on * herV?aprices, and as she had already quarreled violently with the elder, there was every chance that she might leave me a comfortable income. I therefore responded with hypocritical warmth to her fond overtures, and always accepted her frequent and pressing invitations, though I reaped nnn-li weariness and not a little irritation from her exacting society. These visits were, however, rendered endurable by the society of my cousin Edgar, the younger and favorite son. of whom I was reqllv very fond, and with whom I sometimes even fancied myself in love when wearied with the i excessive ardor of Cyril Cavendish, an i impecunious bank clerk, who had fixed < .his youthful affections upon me. and i whose assurances as to my personal < charms were often a great comfort to i me when wounded 'u spirit by the loin cnool'lnn rt f i?r liHAtlt vi iii(v wiviuri?. i . One day Edgar came to me with a i greatly perturbed expressiiyi, and said i Ae wanted me to help hliu out of a * difficulty. I said I would do my best. < *?d. after some beating about the i tmsh, he informed me that he was i deeply in love with Augusta Denab.v. < a rather pretty girl who lived in the < - next parish. "Augusta Denaby!" I exclaimed. ' -"Why, you know Aunt Maria detests 1 Iter a(id would cut you off with a < -dollar if yon ventured to marry her!" "That's just the difficulty," responded Edgar. "Just because Mrs. Den- ] -aby offended mother a dozen years < -*go, she hasn't a good word to say for ^tny of the family. She has hardly spoken to any of them. and. I believe, has never even seen Augusta. I am sure, if she once got to know her. she couldn't help liking her, and now that Mrs. Denaby is dead, there's no reason the enmity should be kept up. But. you see. Kitty, mother has made up her miuil that you and I are to marry each other, and site Is expecting me to propose to you while you are here." don't want to marry you." I returned, with some warmth, Cyril suddenly becoming precious in uiy sight. "I know you don't," replied Edgar, "and I don't want to marry you. so we are of one mind on that point. But. you see, Kitty, I shall get 110 peace till I ask y6u; so what I want you to do is to refuse me. and then I can tell mother that you wouldn't have me. L and I shall be reduced to despair and go off and marry Augusta, and mother will throw ail the blame upon you. wtr '"{Then we shall gradually work round. My that mother will get to know and lik^Augusta, and all will end happily." I was filled with indignation at this suggestion. Mean, selfish fellow! Why should I be sacrificed, just to further Iris own ends, and be deprived of the comfortable provision for the future ' upon which I was depending at my aunt's death? I resolved upon revenge. "Very well," said I. coldly. "I will do what I can for you. But you are sure your mother wants us to marry?" "Yes; she asked me only this morning if I had proposed yet." he replied. "Very well, then, do so." said I. "Weil, then, Kitty, will you be my Wife?" said Edgar. "With pleasure!" I responded, with a sweet smile. ( "But, Kitty, you must refuse me." said Edgar, much taken aback. I shall Co r.otning of the sort." sr.hl I. with gentle firmness. " Far be it from me lo go against the wishes of my d^ar aunt, to whom I owe sc> much. I shall go and tell lier at once Low happy you have made me." I did, and my aunt embraced me warruly, almost with tears, and I embraced her with equal fervor, and told her that I could never do enough to show my latitude. My auntinsisted that we should be married at once, only allowing time for the purchase of an elaborate trousseau jvith which she intended to provide me. t The unfortunate Edgar was nearly distracted. To break off his engagement with me would in ense his mother even more than his refusal to propose in the first place would have done. He raged aud stormed in priSislfe.-? t f TEARS.'^ ot what they mean, divine despair ' to the eyes, i urn-fields, j are no more. ering on a sail, om the Underworld, over one . elow the verge; are no more. ark summer dawns akened birds ng eyes glimmering square; hat are no more. ; after death, s faney feigned eep as love, ith all regret; are no more. ?Tennyson, "The Prlnceas." i'c mhucv BP1 I 0 MUIUI. p g| k it it it ||| |H Paul. lifgjjli rate, declared lie would commit suicide rather than marry me. would reject me at the altar, would illtreat me in the most fearful way after were married. But to all these f-'eats I opposed an unruffled sweetness of demeanor and lavished a great show of | affection upon him in the presence of my aunt, to whom he was unwillingly obliged to respond. V 1 Our wedding day drew near, and Ed^L| gar. finding me unmoved by threats. 1 now had recourse to entreaties, and even secretly brought Augusta to add her prayers to his; but to their pitiful ( moans I only responded that nothing ; would induce me to disappoint my demount. even if I had to sacrifice my life's happiness in the cause. It may readily be supposed that I had not really the slightest intention of allowing Edgar to marry me. I intended to drive him into rejecting me. a course which would, I knew, deeply offend my aunt and would probably oust Edgar altogether from her favor, in which I then hoped to rise still higher by tho? representation that Edgar's cruelty had broken mv heart. However, as the day approached and Edgar showed no signs of open rebellion. I began to be a little alarmed. What if. after all. I had to reject Edgar? That would be fatal! My aunt would never sjienk to me again. The morning before the appointed wedding day Edgar came to me, pale and fierce. "Are you determined to keep up this ' farce to the end?" he Inquired. "Farce?" said I, raisins my brow*. 1 "I intend to obey ray beloved aunt, if * that is what you mean." "Then take the consequences." he * retorted, as he departed angrily and 1 banged the door. That evening a note was discovered * in Edgar's room informing his mother that when she read it all would be Dver. that lie could not obey her wishes 1 in marrying me, and, rather than run s counter to them, he had resolved to de- i stroy himself. , t The distracted mother was beside f herself with grief. She rushed here 1 ?nd there, giving contradictory orders; 1 she ran up and down stairs as if 5 searching for some sign of his presence: she dispatched search parties in f the hope that he might yet be diseov- I ered alive; but nothing could be found,. 1 except his coat and hat ou the bank 1 jf a river. . s The conclusion come to was that the x unfortunate young man had drowned t himself, though no trace of the body ' could be discovered. "You are ray only hope and com- ( fort!" cried ray aunt, weeping on my " neck. "You must never leave me, darling!" With some missririnirs I nromised 1 would not. ' The next morning, at an early hour. > Mr. Denaby appeared in a state of dis- j traction. Augusta, it seemed, unalde to bear the idea of resigning Edward * to any other-bride, had also drowned ' herself. Her cloak and hat had been ' discovered on the hank of tiie river. 1 which was being dragged for the body, but so far without success. The bereaved parents wept together. 1 and so touching was their grief tiiat I cried, too. although I had not the slightest apprehension that Augusta 1 and Edgar had really drowned them- ] selves. However, as u\onths passed on and ' nothing was heard of/either of them. I began to feel rather anxious and to wonder what had befallen them. Meanwhile a common sorrow had drawn the two unhappy households 1 together, and. about a year after these 1 startling events, my aunt astounded s me one morning by the information 1 that site and Mr. Denaby had resolved to unite their broken hearts and seek consolation in wedlock. * Here was a nice prospect for :ne! 1 My aunt had already become very : favorably disposed toward Lor future 1 stepchildren, and would be certain to 1 provide handsomely for them in her will. and. instead of being her sole heiress. I was suddenly confronted ; with seven rivals?the number of Au- ' gusta's brothers and sisters?and might 1 think myself fortunate if I got off with an eighth part of what 1 had consid- ' ered my due. ' ' The marriage took place, and the ' Denabys migrated from their small 1 house to my aunt's handsome mansion, i in which I now felt myself an inter- ' loper. 1 returned to my former home, 1 where my eldest sister was struggling to make both ends meet, and where I was not received with much enthusiasm. "" i In these circumstances, I accepted an offer of marriage from a wealthy gentleman who fell a victim to those charms which. no ore but Cyril had i yet been able to perceive, ( On the very day that I wrote to my i aunt informing her of my engagement, < I received a letter from her, written i in groat excitement, and incoherently 1 announcing that "Edgar was not in ; heaven, as she had hoped," but in Can- i ada, where he and his wife, Augusta. were happily settled and "doing ex- j tremely well. Having heari^ of the i marriage of their respective p)i^euts. ] they had taken courage to write \^ind i inform them that they, loo, were mar- j rled, and not dead, as was supposed i they hoped they uhould be forgiven 1 and still bold a place in the affections i of their friends. i s ? N : ??? * I Thus nil Glided well. Edgar lias already attained great eminence in his ulop.ed country; Cyril and I are lioth happily married?to somebody else? and my aunt is so kept in order by her j second husband, who has proved to be : t person of much decision of character, j i that she has 'a I ready begged her eldest j son's pardon for having discarded him, : ? md has made an equitable will, dividing her fortune in the most proper and satisfactory manner. I am glad to say that I am not for- ' gotten.?New York Weekly. i It is said that the $.">40,000 that An- ^ drew Carnegie has given for the es- ( tablishment in Boston of an institute j similar to Cooper Institute, is to be ( added to a fund of $270,000. wliieli lias grown from ?>000, left 100 years ago by Benjamin Franklin. Herr Mock, of Babenhausen (Hesse), lias been carrying on observations of Hie bumming of both telegraph and telephone wires. The humming of wire running east and west is said to . presage a fall of temperature, often ( ten or more hours in advance of the , thermometer: the humming of wires . north and South advises a rise in temperature, several hours in advance of . ^e thermometer.?Pall Mall Gazette. j Upon investigation by the chemist j jf an extensive railroad system regarding the best protection of struc- , tural work from rust, it was found ( tlmt the value of the various paints ( used was directly dependent upon the , size of the particles of pigment, that is, 5 to the fineness to which it had been f ground. It is a common idea among , paint users that grinding in oil is pref- j era bio to dry grinding. Experiment, j however, showed that dry grinding, f especially when combined with floating ( to remove large particles, was much ( more efficient than the same grinding ( lone in oil. Iii the proceedings of tlio Philndel- ! pliia Academy. Miss A. M. Fieide re- i ords three instances of curious traits lisplayed by ants kept under observation in the laboratory at Woods' Hall, Mass. In the first case the actions ecorded suggested something akin to lypnotism, while from the third there moms a possibility that these insects nay lie able to remember and recognize ndividuals of their own kind after a separation of several years. The retctions of ants to vibratifis is the ^ iubject of another article in which J t is urged that it is misleading to iscribe or deny hearing to these injects. Snow will manage to get inside of a 1 vindow where rain in the severest ! f norm cannot penetrate. I have seen J 1 t blown under the putty and around 1 lie rabbet of the sasb on the inside 1 ?f the pane. So have you. But A^;- ' ralian sand: Absalom's party nearly 1 lied of starvation because sand got * nto all their provisions, even into tins 1 lermeticaily scaled and bottles securely I orked. It went through leather, rub- * >er. iron. It buripd itself in the skin ( intil a man felt like d piece of emery * lapcr. The scientist of the party got 1 everal hollow glass balls and anchored hem in a simoon. They were from liree to five inches in diameter, of Material an eighth of an inch thick. Jesuit?After the blow they were dis ovcred to be about a third full of iitud. Negotiating a I.oan. The customer was moodily scratch- 1 ng a match on the woodwork after : tanditig off the cigar store man for j he Havana second, and appeared to be j ittlo interested in the trend of events, ; to that the man behind the register ; ticked up a newspaper and scanned I < he columns listlessly, while waiting j | 'or the uext smoker. "I ?:iy. Bill, this is interesting," lie emarkcd, after a minute's inspection )f the financial page. "What?" asked Bill, wearily. "It says here that the bank clearings n New York last week amounted to norc than $S.".Oo??.00?>. which was an nereasc of over fifty per cent, as compared with last year."' "Ulihu," sighed Bill. "Times ninst l>e good down <fn the t ?onst." continued the cigar store man, 1 hut. after ail, they haven't got it all 1 :o themselves. Here's 'Frisco with a ] :otal of $o2.000.000, an increase of i even per cent. That's a fine showing, i mu." i "Umph," said Bill. 1 "Here's the news from London, ] diowing that money is easy, especially 1 n youth American securities, which ippear to be dead easy. To judge by litis, times are not so shaky as some i people talk about, are they. Bill?" < "I duiino," muttered Bill. "Say. old man." said the cigar man, i suddenly, "you don't seem to take any J merest in the financial progress of the world. What's the matter with you?" "I* came in here," replied Bill, scratching the second match just one ' inch west of the sandpaper, "to uego- ' tiate a loan of two hits until Saturday " tight. I want to get my hair cut while it's warm, .lust as I am ready to veiiearsc my touch you spring untold millions on me. but all of it is in New i'ork or 'Frisco or l.ondon or South America, and I got discouraged." Bill secured the loan without security.?Chicago Chronicle. i.-- & Gold From Illver Mo**. d Miners along the Trinity Iiiver. in t northern California, save 110 inconsid- J s ?ral?lc amount of gold from the river ? moss. One countr^fctorckeeper at a small place 011 the ver bought, during E the season just <?sed, $4000 worth from them. He sa#s that on the rocks d ind bedrock akuj^tbe sides of a channel, especially ?i riffles and in places D where the enrr^^s swift, moss forms n the summer moWh^ When the water rises in winter ^overflows these places and the moss acts as a goldsaver. When the water begins to fail E in summer the miners gather the moss ind either put it in the sun to dry, r burning it later and panning out the a>he8, or they wash it in a tub of 8 water unttl the gold is all washed out. i [ SOUTHERN > F \ #(J?? - >? 1 TOPICS Oh INTEREST TO THEPLANTE k. I? % ? C?Uar?. Much has been written lately about 'ruit and vegetable cellars, and how jest to store the fruits and vegetables o keep well. Some say that when sweet potatoes are lirst put in the celar they should be kept very warm for ibout ten days to pass through a sweat n order to keep well, and afterwards iept at an even temperature of tifty :o sixty degrees Fahrenheit. But in he Southern Fruit Grower, Mr. .T. A. Foreman says that "fruits and vegeables must never be allowed to sweat )r get damp at any time." I would ike to know which is the correct principle or plan. Mr. Foreman also states hat when the temperature falls below forty-five degrees in sweet potato cellar they will chill and turn black in 'pots and'will soon rot. In my sweet )otato cellar the temperature has gone lown as low as forty degrees, and they ire keeping well so far. Also two writers I have noticed that claim that an apple cellar should be )n the north slope of a hill to be cool, ind the door should open l^om the top loor down and a window on the side; loor agd window open at night to eave iweohl air when necessary. Now t sj^ms* to mo that a cellar on the * Kfl onnlor lOrpH'HSl or I'ilSl mujic uuuiu.uc \.vw?v? j n Rummer than on the north slope, as t would receive only the morning sun .vhen the air was cool, while the one )n the north slope would receive the evening sun when atmosphere was ivarm, and in winter the one on the iorth slope would be more subject to tevere cold or changes. And why have i window on the side and door down 'rom the top? I understand that a celar ought to be dark to keep vegetables ind fruit best. Then why not have the loor at the end to enter easily to put in >r take out fruit or vegetables, and an >pen ventilator through the top floor, vhich can be closed when very <j61d? [ have a sweet potato cellar and a celar for Irish potatoes and fruits. They >oth face to the east and have double loors at that end and have ventilator through top floor opening to room ibove under the roof, which makes hem convenient to enter, put things in >r take them out, as they are only a 'ew steps down from east end door. They are easily ventilated. Hare no rouble to keep my fruit and Irish poato cellar from thirty to forty degrees n winter. If my principle is wrong. I ivant to know it.?A. J. Umhoif*. of Foknson County, Ark. What Teo?lnt? 1*. ,?|osinte is botanieally closely related o common corn, and is called a grass, ilthough it grows ten feet high. It is t native of Central America, but has >een cultivated in the South. It will lardly produce seed in Alabama, but it rill make a wonderful qnantiftr of feed 'or stock. At the Georgia Experiment Station it produced 38,000 pounds of ,Teen forage per acre; at Mississippi Cmrimpnt Station as high as 44,000 K)unds of green feed per acre. The leasons in Alabama are not long mougb for teosinte to mature seed. It jrows best on rich soils and In fiot, ainy seasons. The acconffcanying illustration shews ho appearance of the plant when about fully grown. It sends up from twenty to thirty stalks from a single root. It maye be cut about three times each season, and fed green on the soiling mode. It can be allowed to grow almost to maturity ahd be cut before Trost, to be used as hay in winter. Leaves are long apd stalks small and tender. Teosint^ seed should be planted in \labaina about last of May, in rows our feet apart and thinned to one plant ?ach foot in the row. One pound of seed will sow an acre. Cultivate as f it were corn.?Southern Agriculturist. Peanut* For Fattening Hoe*. I would like to call attention to the ralue of peanuts for fattening hogs hoaply. Spanish peanuts will do well >u any ordinary cotton land if properly Pointed Paragraphs. Nearly every divorce results in two lore marriages. It is easier to appiaud than it is to fin apptause. It's impossible to buy a man off if ie is on the square. A woman says a cloven breath inlicates a cloven hoof. About ten minutes after you get the now shoveled off your sidewalk It beins to thaw. Whiskey is said to cause almost as aany funerals as doctors. Many a man would starve if his wife lidn't keep a few boarders. A r inster says that dying an old said . i easier than living one. Don't imagine that a man can talk m an) subject just because he does. A man who is making a night of it lever thinks of the morning after. It's quite easy to convince some marled men that it is good to be alone. Many a man lives in the married tate who isn'.t permitted to think in L ( : flQ 7E!l dR, STOCKMAN AND TRUCK GROWER. ^4 fertilized. Use from 200 to 400 pounds of acid phosphate and kainit to the ' , acre. If the land is deficient in lime, , the addition to the above fertilizer of , 200 pounds of land plaster or lime will ? make the yield much greater. i Break up the land and lay off rows 1 two feet and ten inches apart, planting first of May. The crop is much more easily kept clean if planted with com- { bination planter, as it is often hard to , get a stand. ( I find it best to plant the shelled peas ' four or five inches apart, thinning to | about twice that distance at first work- < ing. It is cheaper in the end to use 1 a double quantity of seed and save replanting, as the replanted hills do not make half a crop. The crop should be planted and cultivated as nearly on a level as possible. For cultivation use a side harrow or small tooth cultivator until the last working, which should be done with a larger plow in order to throw more dirt to the plants. It does not pay to let them get grassy. Fence after laying by. Turn the hogs on when matured. They will not require any other food while the peanuts last, but should be given plenty of clean water. An occasional feed of charcoal sprinkled with salt serves to keep them in a healthy condition. An acre of good peanuts will fatten from 800 to 1000 pounds of pork. Some prefer to feed corn for a few weeks before killing, but it Is not absolutely necessary. The lard is oily when fattened on peanuts alone, but the meat is finely flavored. I have followed the above plan for a number of years, and find that I not only fatten my meat more cheaply, but the land is improved by leaving the whole crop returned to it.?it. t. steeie, ( Scotland County, X. C., in Progreasiv? | Farmer. , ' 1 N>?t> and Sitters. "What's In the nest, anyway?" some ( one may ask. "A nest's a nest," says another; as if there' was no distinction ( in nests. But there is. In the lirst place, the esters and the , sitter are in the nest, and the number of chickens that may, or may not. come t forth from the eggs, depends to no ; small extent on the character of the I nest, and its location. It does not mat- 1 ter, even in very cold weather, so much 1 where the nest is placed, as to how it J is constructed. Large hens require . large nests?nests that will receive the (' eggs on a comparatively flat, but < springy surface, and the ben with her j wings dropped about them at the outer 1 edge on either side, with also room for' * her to place her feet on the bottom of the nest without crushing jtny of the } eggs. The sides of the nest for the early sitters should have a soft, or , elastic rolled edge of hay or other ma- 5 terial about it, so as to confine the ] eggs, and also aid the hen in keeping < them in the proper tempera lure. The I nest should also be in a sli ,ow box. or I directly on the ground with a six-inch ] siding, so that the hen will not be likely to crush any when returning to her ( place after feeding. And right here , is. perhaps, the most Important point ) of all in securing a good hatch. It is ] the liberty of the sitter throughout the ] whole period of incubation. She must, ,1 in order to get best results, be so situ- 1 nt<vl thnt she can leave the nest and J rr'-irn whenever she has the inelina- j tlon to do so. Otherwise, she is apt to become feverish, and her tempera- ( ture irregular, which condition will | surely result in some spoiled eggs. Con- i fining the sitter and taking her from < the nest-box to feed at our own con- ' venience. Is a very had policy. Another thing, which is quite as bad as the above, and which tends to shorten the hatch, is the exposure of the sitter to the annoyance of the layers of the flock crowding in her nest to lay. i This must not be allowed, if anything like a full hatch is desired. 1 The best*plan i* to put the sitter, or ' several of them if desired, in a place 1 where they will be shut in from the | outsiders and vet have plenty of room to move about In. and in which their food and water should be placed, as well as a good-sized box of dust. But, never should n sitter be shut In closely on the nest. Such a tiling invites disaster.? H. B. Geer, in Southern Cultivator. \ ' Lettuce From Dampening OIT. Where lettuce and cabbage are started in beds rich with manure there will be a large proportion of the plants that will be afreeted with a fungus disease. All such plants should he started in beds where the soil Is poor, then they will grow slowly and the stems will become sutncienny naru iu rrsisi. tbis disease. If truck growers will always apply German Kainit to the land before planting lettuce seed it will reduce the dampening off or tops from falling over. When a plant has dampened off take it out of the bed, also the soil immediately around it, and this may remove the cause aud prevent the disease from spreading. Reflections of a Bachelor. Eternal vigilance is the price of not getting found out. It's queer how long it takes a man's wife to get over the idea that his lap was made to sit in. T?- +v,*? mnonnitn spnsnn wo j udi uciuic tuv men begin to make open-work clothes so they can bite through. A girl with pretty ankles would rather wear laced boots so they can beep coming untied for some man to tie again. Men seldom speak favorably of a politician unless they have an axe to grind. When a man pays a doctor for advice and the doctor prescribes flaxseed tea and mustard plasters the man feels that he has been cheated. It's easier to begin at the top and slide down than it is to begin at the bottom and crawl up. A milliner is always suspicious of a woman customer who doesn't want to try on every hat she has.* While the orchestra plays between the acts men go out and smile, but the ladles must simply grin and bear it <-&x.r -v . s SDNflAY SCHOOL | INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR APRIL 2. Subject! Jesus, the Good Shepherd, John ^ x? 7-18?Golden Text, John x., 11? Memory Verses, 17, 18?Commentary on the Day's Lesson. I. The shepherd and the sheep (vs. 1-6). In these verses Jesus lays the foundation for the discourse which was n to follow. With the external drapery, n of this parable the hearers of Jesus, ei were perfectly familiar. Theirs was it sheep-growing country; flocks were si their main dependence. tl II. Christ the door (vs. 7-9). 7. ft "Then said Jesus." Jesus was talking ^ directly to the men who had excom- h, inunicated the former blmd man, and (; the application of His words was to them as spiritual thieves and robbers. e, rhey had reviled a poor man instead of a protecting him. "Verily, verily." This g emphasized the importance of what He was about to say. Jesus now proceeds :o explain'the illustration He had made .. use of in verses 1-6. "I am the door." The sheep-folds of the East are mere Cl enclosures surrounded by a wall of loose stones with thorn-bushes upon the top. but usually an effectual bar- jr ier against the wolves. There is only d; me door. "The sheep." True Chris- ]j linns. h] 8. "Before Me." Those who came pretending to be pastors or guidps to ^ the people. The scribes and Pharisees -tainted to be instructors of the people; claimed the right to regulate the affairs >f religion: whose only aim was to premote themselves and oppress the people. "Thieves and robb?'*s." Thes" w false teachers, who rejected Christ and who were devouring the sheep. "Did not hear." Many did hear and c' follow these false prophets.. ,but w "the sheep" ? those with true spir- ? tuai insight?detected their hynocrisy. w >. "Enter in." 1%rough faith in Christ n< we enter into the fold?the visible hurcli. "Shall he saved." Safe from he robbers that seek to destroy; safe . rroni false teachers: safe frhm the sins hat would ruin; safe from the trouhlrs. langers and temptations of life. "Go 1 n and out." We must "go in" to trus*. J" :o rest, to think, to pray, beforp we le -an "go out" to do effective work for lie T.ord. "Find pasture." Satisfae- * tion for every ncad of the soul. 01 III. The thief and the hireling (v^. a! 10-131. 10. "Thief." Any opposer of the h lospc!. "To steal," etc. False teach- Q' steal the hearts and affections from c< eneflts of the resurrection. In Imothy we have the same thought resented under the figure of the ford. We are to feed upon Christ nd his Word. In other words, our x>d is spiritual food received by rayer and Bible study. They are ble to make wise unto salvation. J The soul must bo fed as well as the I ody. The results of starvation is as pparent in the religious life as in ae physical. Weak, flabby, and lean ouls are as possible, and indeed lore common, than lean bodies. As rule, we care for the body better aan the soul. We can no more build p a strong spiritual life without soul aod than we can be strong physically rithout material food. The making f a Christian depends largely on rhat he eats. Our scripture suggests That he eat spiritually of Christ, ty this we mean an act of faith by rhlch the soul appropriates to Itself hrist as a life within. We also mean tiat he spend much time In prayer, . y which he receives strength and ' race by personal touch with Jesns. 'he old manna was found for the ody; but this new manna Is for the oul, and is to be spiritually received. t suggests the value of prayer and leditatlon as a means of spiritual rowth. No soul can be strong who oes not pray much. Ke must be a artaker of the divine nature. That he study the Word for help, aul calls Timothy's attention to the act that it was his knowledge of the icriptures which had given him suoh character as he possessed. They ad the power to make one wise unto iU*?Mnn And as a minister or eacher all Inspired Scripture was rofitable. The Scripture-filled miniser was one who was "thoroughly urnished." It is so to-day. And chat is true of the minister is true of he layman. The strong man is he ^ho prays much and studies his lible much. Eating must precede xercise and usefulness. Are we < eeding the body and starving the wk oul? , -> In a recent issue we spoke of the female sex being nearly 2,000,000 in the majority in this country, remarks the Little Chronicle. It was a mistake; we should have said minority Instead of majority. Continental United States, with Alaska and Hawaii Included, has 1,815,097 more males than females, according to the census of 1900. Women are so much In evidence nowadays that we got the impression they outnumbered the men; they do outnumber them in the District of Columbia, and wherever they are they dominate the situation, vote or no vote. ->.? .At.. -,-a _ nnsr. iuuir nervsics kiii jiuu iiraut/,? 11 H soiritual life. "Life?abundantly" It. V.i Christ is able to give His neo- al ?le abundant life. Many are seeking si more" life: what sueb need is "life"? ci he Christ life, the abundant life. 11. gj <e? on verses 14, 15. 12. "An hireing." Tiie hireling is the one who abors simply for his wages, with no ove or concern for the work. "The* tl svolf." The wolf is the enemy of souls ^ n any of his manifold disguises, such tl is persecution, heresy, worldly living, p; >r a low standard of morals. 12. "Car- "V ?th not." To him the welfare of the iheep is nothing: he is chiefly solicitous d; for his own safety, his own gain and Kbrldly honor. B IV. Christ the good Shepherd (vs. tl 14-18). 14. "I am the good Shepherd." ]g iesus. as the good Shepherd, was fore- g, :old by Cod In the, prophets. His eharicter was that of a divinely appointed . ihepherd. His purposes. His teachings, I His works. His miracles. His methods | iVork, all were those which must belong to a good sb?pherd of God's icople. "Know My sheep." 'In the East in a flock of hundreds.each sheep ivould have and would know its own <j ijaice. So Christ knows us and loves as as individuals. "Am known of mine." There is a mutual affection between the shepherd and the sheep, p There is a mutual affection between the f< Father and the Son: one Is parallel n sviih the other. As the Father knows e the Son. so does the Shepherd know w the sheep: as the Son knows the Father, so do the sheep know the Shop- e herd. n 15. "Lay down My life." The Old- a entnl shepherd must face storms, hardships and dangers for his sheep: he je must find them when lost and must ^ if ten fight with wild beasts a tnl rob- ~ hers in protecting th?*m. Our Shepherd gives up His life for ns (John 3:1(1: . Titus 2:14: John 4:10). 10. "Other . eheep have I." The Gentiles who were soon to be brought into Ilis church. T Pile good Shepherd sweeos the world P with His thought. Here is the univc-r- ^ sal relation of Jesus to sinners of all a nations and tongues. "Shall become *( one flock" (It. V.) One flock not In P creed or name, but in what is far more a essential?one in Christ. One in heart, one in purpose, one in the 'service bf b God and man. ' ' a 17. "Because I lay down." Not be- tl cause I have laid it down, as though s< tlie love of the Father were caused by n the earthly love and sacrifice of Christ, a but because I lav it down. That is. be- tl cause Christ's Spirit is one of self-sne- u rlflcing love, manifested by, but not f, alone embodied in. the incarnation, He M is loved by the Father (see Phil. 2:9; 0 Heb. 1:9). "Take it again." His ris- M Ins from the dead was as necessary as His dying, for by His resurrection He jj secured the fruits of His death (compare Rom. 4:25). Christ died in order c to rise to a more complete life, and to . raise men with Him. This purpose evoked the love of the Father (compare 12:32: Phil 2:9; Heb. 1:9). IS. "No ^ man." His death was entirely volun- * tary. Men killed Him, but He had full b power to escape from them had Ho wished. No one imposed upon Him the duty of leaving Heaven, of coming to n the world, suffering and dying. He & chose to do it, that He might save d men. "Have I received." While He P did it voluntarily, it was in accordance with His Father's expressed will, * This is the divine law of salvation. f: ' g a The Rev. W. Carlile, head of the h Church Army, and who had a special; s audience of King Edward, the other j * day, relates the Argonant in an inter-1 ? view recalling remarks by the Bishop j f of London and Ripon to the effect that v fashionable marriages where duties t of life are shirked and where mar- ? riage was made a mockery, were even I torrihio rhnn those irreeular e marriages which the church had not ' sanctioned, said: "The love of ease s and luxury among the upper classes is mainly responsible for the nation's decay. The refusal of mothers to ac- 1 cept the responsibilities of mother- 1 hood is, in my opinion, nothing less 1 than child murder. I weep to think of 1 it; London becoming another Hercul aneum, another Pompeii. If we don't mend our ways our fate will be none the less terrible." I An English physician declares that . the eating of flesh meat makes a man immoral. There is no question but the paying for it makes him profane, J declares the Washington Post. - "wfafi Tir's, ... . - t?* ----- APRIL 'he Making of a Christian: Food?2 Tim. 3:14-17; Joim 47-58. (Consecration meeting.flf^^H Hints. There is material in the iany lifetimes of study. WhH H tisfortune, then, not to begti^^^^^B arly life (2 Tim. 3:15). Observe, and you will note iggestive fact?that those that le most about the Bible, and s precepts most faithfully, tost certain of Its inspiration, old the doctrine in the fullest Z Tim. Of no book but the Bible een an infidel claim that it furt^^H^^J complete guide 'for living B One can no more judge of ithout receiving Him into lan he can judge of bread iting (John Suggestive Thoughts. Can you think of any other i the world's history that ared to call himself the fe. and the world would gladly Is The quiet hour fcr spiritual iking is as necessary as :>urs for physical food. You cannot feed the brain earn, nor the muscles with ater; no more can you feed ith material things. The wipe man will see wher^^^^^H Ddv is weak, and will eat and se to build up the weak part^^^^H the Christian seek out ible portions and that gospel hlch will best meet his Illustrations. Physicians say that most k> much, clogging' the systeS^^^^^H adigestible food. Christians ot eat too much spiritual food ut in practice at once all that^^^^^H iarn from Christ. It has been proved that food ithout an appetite is poorly r not digested at alL Get ppetite for spiritual food! Violent exercise is forbldden^H^^M led lately after meals. So a uiet meditation should follow th^^^^^H option of truth; only, do dot rog before you put it in* practl^^^^^H We all see that physical growfl^^^H bsolutely dependent upon food. hould we expect spiritual groytl^^^^H ame by itself without the taldn^^^^H food? Quotations. Aieu are cuusuuiuj sccmu^ w leir higher nature upon wrong hich may satisfy for a time, bufl le long run cannot keep back angs of a noble spiritual hunge^^^^H /ay land Hoyt. H What are pearl's to a man ying for want of bread??Araot^^HH If you can live without Christ, 1 H read of life, I fear your sou! is lat of God's people, for they unger and thirst after Jesus.? fflRMiELESSoH APRIL SECOND. I he Making of a Christian; His ?John 6. 4748; 2 Tim. 3. 14-17. fl I This lesson is a part of one of t^^^H ubic discourses of Jesus. In the )ur verses Jesus shows that what tf^^H mnna was to the fathers who receird it by eating, himself is to all souls ! ho receive him by faith. Manna was 'mporal life to the Israelites; he Is ] ternal life to all believers. In the 1 ext two verses he goes a l .ep farther nd identifies the bread with hla-\ esh. Then in the Satter part of our ^ !sson he adds his blood. The evlent meaning is that whoever receives hrist by faith becomes a partaker f the body and blood of Christ; that i. he recives eternal life and the