Newspaper Page Text
By Anna Katharine Green, J
^ COPYRIGHT, 1?30. CV RC
"Do not speak of him. or of my masters.
I shudder at the thought of their
auger and cruel disappointment. I
Lave never been able to face them,
nor never can till I become able to reimburse
them for all their useless expense.
As for making another attempt,
that is impossible. I had rather die!
At the mere thought of confronting
again that cruel sea of faces, the blood
stops flowing In my veins and the
world turns black before me. I was
not made for a prima donna, or rather,
something is lacking in me necessary
for success upon the stage. Yet that
success is all I have lived for, and
without it, what am I ?'
"What are you?" The voice of the
artist trembled, his eyes spoke the admiration
he could not suppress. "A
young, beautiful and pure girl. Is that
not enough? Most persons would think
"It will not get me bread," she murmured.
"It will not pay my debts,
those horrible debts, that weigh upon
me like lead. It was this thought that
made me return to these walls so bitter.
It was this thought which, day by
day, forced me into a deeper despair,
till at last I only longed for death,
as a release from my perplexity and
pain. It was a wicked longing, but it
was the only one I knew, so last night
I sent Annetta for a deadly poison (she
liad often told me she could get me
VUt*/ auu uaicnti^ iuat mc
which she brought me was what she
said it was, I took it, and lay down on
my own little bed to die. The result
1s what you know. She deceived me,
and gave me a preparation which
merely simulates death. Was it wise
Jn her? Time alone can tell."
"Signorina!" It seemed the natural
tvord for him to use, though every
feature of her face and every grace of
her person proclaimed her to be an
American girl, pure and simple. "I
cannot doubt but that the Portuguese
did well. I cannot doubt that the
future holds for you all that even your
ardent spirit can desire. But " He
paused, affected by her look. From a
sad and despairing creature she had
flashed, as it were, into one all cheerfulness
and hope. The change was
marvelous. He hardly knew the beaming
face, the glowing eye. Had his
heart betrayed itself in his words? Did
eh** cno nml rpsrtnnri to flip mission
which every moment of this sweet but
dangerous intercouse was deepening
within him? He dared not search her
eyes to see. He was content to feel her
joy and to warm himself at the fire of
her growing hope.
"You do not go on," she breathed.
"You think we have talked long enough
for to-night Well, you are right. You
have heard enough of misery aEd I
have gained enough of strength to
make parting between us easy, just
now. So, good-bye, sir, till "
She looked up and smiled. Ah, how
sweet that smile was; how innocent
and confiding. He drew hack from
before it slowly, but firmly; he had
fears of his own judgment, of his
own strength; he would say good-night
and come again when reason should be
more under his own control, and he
could weigh the treasure he coveted
before bo tcok it for his own.
But two paces from the door, a fresh
thought struck him. The mystery of
her awakening had been revealed, but
not that which surrounded the picture
lie had been paid to draw. Till he understood
the purpose for which a copy
of her face and form had been requested
from his pencil, he could not
go. The story she had told of her
lonely struggle and disastrous failure
only made his desire greater. Since
there was nothing in her history
to account for this mysterious
circumstance, how could
It be accounted for? Were there facts
in her life which she had omitted to relate?
He must learn or pass a sleepless
night. Coming back, he confronted j
AN IMPORTUNATE SUITOIt.
"Pardon me," he entreated; "but you
have not told me what your pleasure :s
in regard to this sketch I have made.
Shnll I flPKtrnv it nr rtoiivpr it 1r? th(>
person who ordered it?"
'Terson who ordered it? You confound
mo," was her hurried response.
"I had forgotten the picture and aU
connected with it.. How was it ordered
He took a crumpled note from his
pocket and showed it to her. By the
nearly consumed candles she read it,
puzzled aud wondering, to the end.
"Andrea Montelli!" she cried. "I
know no such name. It is all a mystery
At once and without his volition and
encouragement, Hamilton Degraw felt
himself seized by a sudden doubt which
At-AHrfK.'nr* KI \ ")1
uuiiwiivu c?cijiaiU^ utiViC liiiu. -TXii
n mystery to her! How could that be.
He looked at her and hesitated. Never
tiad she seemed so childlike, so innocent
or so pure. Her large eyes, turned
up to him. were full of question; her
very attitude was one of waiting. It
seemed as if she expected him to explain
what evidently amazed her. He
mastered>bis doubts and ventured npon
a new topic.
"When I came into the room." said
he, "I found bending over you, as you
lay upon the couch, a beautiful lady
with fair hair and aristocratic features.
She had come in a carriage which stood
before tho door, and when I first saw
her, was strewing flowers over the bed
and you. See! tlioy lie withering now
in heaps upon the floor. Her you
must surely know, for both her beauty
%ad her wealth make her conspicuous."
"I am sorry," began the signorlna.
*'but I cannot tell you who she is. I
"That may be sufficient."
"But I canuot be sure. There is a
lady, both beautiful and rich, who;
V.,v . J&- V^. i ii .. .
"ER : P
^Auther of "The Foreaken^T
? Inn," Etc. *
IKRT BONNCN'StOKt. ^
f once took an interest in me. She was
a pupil of one of my masters, and
though I was never introduced to her,
I was given to understand that she
was watching my career and hoping
much for its success. It may have
been she; but why she should have
sought me out in my despair, when she
held herself aloof from me in the
time of my prosperity, and why she
should have brought flowers and
strewed them over my poor body, I
cannot explain. Eut perhaps Annetta
can. She was here and may have seen
something or gathered something from
the lady's manner which will help us
to comprehend the meaning of her actions;"
and beckoning the Portuguese
toward her, the signorina asked one
or two questions, which being duly
answered she turned cack to Mr. Degraw
"It must have been the lady I spoke
of. She came without flowers at first,
and asking for me, seemed to be greatly
shocked when I was pointed out to
her, lying, as she supposed, dead. She
attempted to question Annetta, but of
course got no answer from her, as
my good friend does not speak a word
of English; and when the lady went
awav she made a eesture that must
I have meant that she would return, for
in half an hour or so she did come
hack, bringing these beautiful flowers,
which she at once began to strew over
me. That is all Annetta can tell.
Would you like to question her
"I would like to hear what she has
to say about these candles and your
dress and the drapery of your couch.
It may explain who Montelli is, and
this you as well as myself ought to
"True, true," came in a murmur from
the young girl's lips. "Annetta must
be able to tell .how I came to be dressed
thus, though the robe itself is no mystery,
being one of the costumes prepared
for my debut. But the lights,
I Lie UiapeiJ. Uli liiai x ^auuvi, ujauvAstand."
And she drew the old crone nearer,
and holding her by the arm, put question
after question, while the young
man stood still, gazing from one to
the other, devoured by a curiosity that
the signorina's rapidly changing appearance
certainly tended to aggravate.
For at the explanations which
the old woman tendered without hesitation,
the young girl's head sank lower
and lower In manifest confusion, while
on her cheek and brow a flush slowly
gathered, which, if it added to her
beauty, could not but add also to the
watchful artist's impatience and distrust.
"What is it? Tell me," burst from
his lips as the Portuguese finally drew
back, leaving the -signorina standing
hv that forsaken couch.
"Ah, how can I?" was her cry,
though her eyes looked up fearlessly,
and the smile on her sensitive mouth
was simply a deprecatory one. "It is
such a story of?of an unreasoning
passion?of?of a love of which I was
ignorant, and would never have countenanced
if I had known of it, that?"
He appreciated her confusion; he
loved her for its evident depth; but he
would not help her even by a word
to speak. This story, whatever it
was, he must know. She saw his dotermination
and summoned up her
"Annetta tells me," she began, "that
for the last three uonths I have been
pursued by an Italian who has been
determined to marry me. She says he
found no favor in her eyes, and that
she was sure he would tind none in
mine; and so, to save me anxiety and
pain at a time when I needed my full
strength and liberty, sbe had persist
cnily placed herself between us, and
by artifices and stratagems of various
kinds succeeded in keeping him out of
my presence. She says that, owing to .
my preoccupation and determination to
see nothing but my art, she was
strangely successful in this, though
there were times when he almost
brushed my garments in the streets,
and others when it nearly took the arm
of the police to keep him away from
these doors. He had seen me at the
theatre cne day, and hidden behind
the boxes or among the wings of the
scenery, had heard me sing, and nothing
could rob him of the idea that he
was destined to marry me and make of
me the leading prima donna of the
world; not even my failure, for he was
present at that, nor ray consequent persistent
shrinking from sight into the
obscurity that became me. Nothing
affected him or changcd his mind; and,
while he showed some sense In not
attempting force after this, Annetta
knew that, sooner or later, he would
find some means of crossing this
threshold and offending me with offers
she was confident would meet with a
rebuff that would only add to the annoyance
and danger of the situation.
For he is an ugly man and coarse beyond
expression, though seemingly
honest and very determined in his
wishes. So. when she saw me sunk in
despair and anxious for death, she did
not attempt to reason with me, but
rather humored me in my determiun
lion, promising me an effective poison,
while sccretly resolved upon furnishj
ing rr.o with a drug that merely simulated
death. For if she could sliow me
to tills Mouteili in a state that forbade
;ill further hope on his part, she
thought his persecutions might ce;:.ce
and tu.it we might obtain the opportunity
for escape which seemed our
only security. But when the drug having
worked, she let the miserable creature
in and showed him the result of
his importunity and my distress, he
was so overcome by what lie pleased
to call the beauty of my face thnr his
passion took a new turn, and he only
thought of having my picture painted,
and. by means of Its exhibition, reap
that fortune from my features wluch
he had failed to obtain from my voice.
"It uiakes mc blush to lell you this,
> >l'? .'-J .1
but Annetta felt powerless to refuse
him. So merely eliciting from bim
the promise that be would leave me
hereafter undisturbed, 6be accepted
from him the money which was necessary
to robe the couch as he desirwi,
and perpared to receive you, whom
lie designated as the artist he meant to
employ. That I should wake, she
tvLlfW, uui sue u uaieu mat we miuuiu
find you a gentleman, and we have,
so much so that I do not "oelieve you
will betray us, even if this fanatic insists
upon having a painting completed
from this sketch."'
"A painting? He shall never have
the sketch even!" exclaimed young Degraw.
"See your features in the grasp
of a coarse man anxious to make
money by exposing them to public
view! Never! Not if I have to destroy
"Don't!" she cried, grasping his hand
in hers, for he had made a movement
as if to tear the drawing he had made,
"He is a dangerous man. Annetta says
he is not to be trusted. If he detects
the deception to which this oid friend
of mine has subjected him. what may
wp not exiiect in the way of persecu
tion? Indeed, I dare not trust myself
to this unknown man's mercies. I
would father he thought me dead
"Till I can fly his reach or so merge
myself in some other identity that he
will never dare approach me again
either as a lover or a friend."
"Pretty coward! And so yon will not
trust me to manage this man. I do
not fear him."
"You are not a woman."
"True. Well, I will humor this whim.
I will take the picture, and to-morrow
Annetta may send him to my studio.
Meantime, may I hope that you will
sleep sweetly, and without fear?"
"Oh," she murmured, as she caught
his look, so unmistakably full of suppressed
love; "how can I thank you
for your sympathy? How can I re
ward you for your goodness?"
"By such sleep," lie answered. And
taking her hand in his, he carried it
to his lips, when, suddenly, from the
doorway communicating with the other
room, a voice penetrated harshly
through the apartment, crying, with
a marked foreign accent:
"And who may you be, sir, and what
is your business here?"
To the souud of a scream from the
signorina's lips, young Degraw turned.
Before him, in the doorway I have
mentioned, he saw standing the slight,
dark and unprepossessing figure of a
man so evidently Italian in his appearance
and bearing, that it did not need
the hurried bound and startled exclamation
of the Portuguese for him
to recognize in this menacing intruder
the Signor Montelli.
"So, so, we are to wind up with a
scene," thought he; and instinctively
stepped between this stranger and the
shrinking figure of the signorina.
But the precaution seemed needless.
At the first words uttered by the Portuguese,
ths Italian broke into a harsh
laugh, and drawing the old crone arter
him, left the room and shut the door
behind him. Mr. Degraw, surprised
by this sudden departure, stood staring,
while the signorina trembled so
that she seemed in danger of falling.
"It is very strange," quoth the
former. "He did not seem to notice
that the couch was empty, and that you
stood living and breathing before him.
The Portuguese cannot be as true to
you as you thought. She must have
told him that you would wake?"
"Oh! oh! hush'!" broke from the
young girl's lips, as the door opened
again and the old woman stepped in.
"I am so bewildered, I do not know
what to make of all this." And leaving
him, she advauced toward the crcne,
who met her with a look that added
to his surprise and her perplexitj*.
A Infflmlionno nf WAlvls ffil
iX OUUI L. JUlWtVllUUgV v*. i> v. .v.
lowed, and then the old woman drew
back and the signorina turned. But
with what a different air and with
what a different look. Young Degraw
would hardly have known her face if
he had not already seen it under the
influence of various emotions, and
when she opened her lips, sl^e seemed
to Cud it so hard to speak, that in
mercy lie was going to begin the conversation
for her, when bor trouble
found a tongue and she exclaimed:
"I cannot endure any more to-night;
you must go and let me find some
rest. Perhaps, to-morrow?"
"But this wretch," he interposed.
"Am I to leave you to his mercy?"
To be continued.
Clilnefe Art of War.
A novel method of testing new weapons
of warfare is now In vogue in
China. A large eanuon, of the latest
type, was recently Imported from Europe,
and when it was landed on the
coast of Hainan the military mandarins
of the district first inspected it
closely and then resolved to test it.
They therefore procured a boat,
which they anchored at some distance
from the land, and then they loaded
the cannon and fired a shot at it. To
their surprise the shot did not hit the
boat, but fell short in the water. They
determined to try again, but did not
want to miss a second time, and so
they brought the boat to the very s.pot
where the first shot had fallen and
anchored it there.
Then they fired, and to their unbounded
joy the shot went clean
through the vessel. Evidently it never
occurred to them that they could have
attained the same end by aiming more
carefully and slightly changing the
nf the cannon. or. If it did
occur to them, they thought that it
was easier to move the boat than to so
aim with the heavy cannon that they
would be absolutely certain of not
losing a second shot.?New York Herald.
Tli* Uon of Chaeronea.
The works recently begun for the
restoration of the famous colossal
statue of a lion, which was erected
on the battlefield of Chaeronea, In
Boeotia. in memory of the war against
Philip of lUacedon, are, says the London
Standard's Athens correspondent,
being actively carried on, uuder the
superintendence of the distinguished
archaeologist. !d. Sotiriades. who has
Hicnnroraii on flip battlefield, a lanre
tumulus, coutalning traces of ashes
arid various fragments, which encourage
the hope of finding the tombs of
the Macedonians slain in the battle.
A SERMON FOB-SUNDAY"
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED
"POWER OF RELIGION!."
A Kemarkably Strong Deliverance on the
Subject of the Moral and Intellectual
Forco of Christianity?Keligion Gives
au Ideal, and an Incentive to lCeaclt It.
Pahis. Ky.?The "Rev. Henry K.nott,
rector of St. Peter's P. E. Church in this
city, preached a strong sermon on "The
! Moral and Intellectual Power of Keligion.''
The text was chosen from Mattaew v: ?s:
"Be ye therefore perfect even as your
Father, which is in heaven is perfect."
i Mr. Knott said:
The Sermon on the Mount contains tin'
sum and substance of Christianity. In
other words, we find it to be the very
heart of tbe Gospel; its divine precepts
transcending in moral grandeur the loftiest
conceptions ever thought or spoken by
| mortal man. Great souls aflame with the
sacred fire of inspiration have but mirrored
the shadows of the tremendous realities
of the future, and the mind of genius
searching for truth apart from revelation
has failed to discover the meaning and the
end of lile. Here we have a command uttered
by One who pave to humanity the
key to perfection. The Christ has drawn
the veil aside and disclosed the way, the
truth, the life. By revealing the character
of God?a holiness radiant with Jove?we
are brought face to face with the possibil!
itv of attainment through the law and the
soirit hid in Calvary's cross. Jiy imitating
the example of holy self-sacrifice we shall
grow into that glorious perfection of the
Father manifested in Ilis only begotten
I do not wish von to misunderstand the
inference just quoted. Man shall never attain
the absolute perfection of God, for
there is an impassable gulf between the
Creator and the created. In being, for
man's immortality had a starting point
while God has even been in an oternitv of
time. In space, man subject to localization!,
here or there?the infinite Father omnipresent,
everywhere. In power man a
creature of environment circumscribed by
laws whether natural or spiritual, free, yet
not free, a mysterious parauox, his soul the
battle ground 'twixt wills .'.umap and divine;
while God is the source of creation,
the Alpha and Omega of all things in heaven
and earth, even holding in His almighty
hand the first link of that wondrous cnain
God is perfection: All His love and
mighty attributes blended together in one
harmonious whole, unchangeable in wisdom.
justice and truth. Man, fallen, perverted,
possessing no natural worth, bearing
always the curse of sin, a subtle tendency
to thwart right, that supreme law of
spiritual life. By nature prone to evil, corrupted.
helpless, his only virtue that which
is derived through grace. No, he can never
be perfect as God is perfect, but through
the intellectual and moral power of religion
and obedience to its commands he can
relatively climb undreamed heights of spiritual
manhood, and by the evolution of his
immortal soul in Christ win that glorious
r ?knovon 1 tr k'nfh
j crown 01 aesun.y which hic iiciovu., *-vI
er has willed all born of woman should
j through obedience acquire perfection. Thus
| we derive the full meaning of the text;
j wonderful in its implication, giving; us the
! assurance of success; divine in itB com|
mand, disclosing the possibilities of our
i nature that we as Christians have a divinl
ity stirring within us the source of a glor|
ious power to "press toward the mark for
the prize;" a life complete in its fulfillment
j of that end which God intended it to attain,
to be perfect in obedience to the 6U!
preme law of its existence, even as its
j Creator is perfect.
Without religion a man can never realize
the possibilities of his spiritual nature.
! With a natural tendency toward the pass
I ing, the finite and the change,'tDie, ne neeas
j an influence to call him to a sense of the
| internal and infinite. Many people take a
j superficial view of Christianity and never
j really understand what blessings it conI
fers. Man w;<p not created to be the playi
thing of the Almighty, but for a Purpose? 1
J to be a son, worthy to stand before his 1
Father's face and to live with Him in lov- !
j You are all familiar with the story of
| 'Adam's dreadful fall into disobedience and
sin. Through the marvelous faculties of
j the soul many Christian men have, at one
j time or another, experienced a momentary I
j consciousness of what then was lost. To 1
j enable us to regain much of that pristine
' state Christ came *into the world, -Jived, 1
! suffered, died and made it possible for us,
by making known its glorieB in His own
perfect life, to once more become the sons 1
1 and daughters of God. Religion leads us \
j back from worldliress to sell-recollection
' and gives to souls fevered with sordid desires
a quickcning principle of a higher and
nobler life; inspiring intellect with truth, i
1 4 I, *?<?? loltk !I rmro and exalted
ttUU HI- UVU4 v uut. ? |/M.v
love. It animates conscience with a supreme
sense of duty and places thought in
juxtaposition with the will of God, clothing !
every aspiration with a purifying virtue, :
, thus leading all the faculties of our being
| upward ana onward toward perfection.
The immortal longings of the soul can
only be satisfied by God. Every faculty
| we possess leads us to His feet. There is
no real happiness apart from that which
comprehends His love and finds its su.
preme good by a steadfast devotedness to j
j the precepts of His law. Unfortunately,
i there are men and women who look upon
! religion as a means to conciliate the divine
I power, which through sin they have ofI
tended. They imacine it places them in a
conciliatory attitude with Deity, and that ,
j bv its medium they will obtain in the fuj
ture some indefinable reward, forgetting
I that religion is a life, a state, which calls i
| into operation all the spiritual potential!j
ties of their glorious nature and through
| temptation, sorrow and suffering crowns
them at last with victory over the world
. and self. 1
| Thus we perceive that Christ camc upon 1
' the earth to save sinners, giving them a ,
j power of endless life. Keveaiing the char!
arter of God. He made it possible for men !
to conform to that perfect original. In
His Gospel He lays uown a code of morals,
so sublime, toat if we would absorb them '
into thought and action we should fulfill 1
while here our destiny. Religion^ blessing ;
is the supreme good for every man to attain.
It is not an emotion, or merely be- i
lief, it is a vitalizing energy in the depths '
of the human soul, subduing to God all the 1
powers of being, incarnating in the heart
a consciousness of a magnificent future,
quickening the intellect, conscience, affections
and will into vigorous and holy ac- 1
tion, inspiring the mind with a profound
love of truth and flooding the soul with a
peace which tne crash of worlds could not
disturb. Religion, then, is a necessity of j
j lire. Without it existence is a delusion, a
shadow, lacking substance and meaning. 1
To grow into the stature and fulness of 1
; Christ, in other words, to become a Christ*
| man, is the design for which we are en- I
I dowed with certain faculties. TVlan is prej
eminently a moral being. This is his nature '
and the path of his life winds toward the '<
perfection of inose qualities which consti- I
tute the esscnce of his spiritual life. His !
true happiness consists in bringing himso.'f '
into relation, into union wim uou. u?u
is holy, the source of all perfection. In 1
the heart of man He has placed a deep and !
abiding consciousness of right and wrong. I
-it every turn duty confronts him; on one i
side lies goodness, on the other evil, with i
an inward voice ever commanding with di- 1
vine authority to discriminate between '
them, urging the choice of that which is
lawful and protesting against sin, every j
thought and action being approved or von- i
denined by this inward monitor. There is 1
not a man or woman living who does not 1
feel that conforming to the will of Uod is
the paramount duty of life. The soul is
the great battleground where the material
and corruptible strive in ceaseless warlare |
against the spiritual and eternal. By sub- 1
mi ting to the lower instincts of our na- ,
ture we are destroying that w.iich is high- i
est and best and wilfully striving (uncon (
sciouslv, .it may be) to thwart the great 1
end wilich the heavenly Father's inarve!- 1
ous love would have us attain. i
Brethren, you may possess untold wealth. 1
Fortune may load you with her favors, the t
world may fawn at your feet, but I declare >
there is no happiness to be found in these; i
neitbff docs religion confer any outward (
benefit that shall appeal as pleasures ot i
6ense, but it? blessedness, the highest, pur- 1
est, noblest gift in heaven or earth is char- c
acter?character which finds its likeness in e
the Christ, conferring a joy which the an- 2
gels wonder at, and fencing the soul with r
impregnable battlements ot Godlike moral s
rectitude, from whicn the concentrated fu- t
ries and powers of hell arc hurled back ia 1
confusion as the ocean's w ares . m the v
- r*, - v
mighty walls of a rock-bound shore. Thus
true ..appiness comes from being, not by
having; from the life within, not influence
Every man possesses a conscience, and
you will hear many declare that they can
be just as good, quite as moral as a Christian
through the power of that conscience.
But what is conscience apirt from religion? |
irk many eases it is a siave r ?au c
master, i'he power of passion drowns its
voice and weakens it by every deliberate [
sin. A man believing in the existence rf
no higher authority will drift upon tho
current of his animal nature, for those tendencies
which i.re strongest will eventually
enslave him. No, without a living faith in
God or a personal union with Him the conscience
loses its power to govern and guide,
but religion clothes it with exceeding
strength by revealing to man the source of
those magnificent moral attributes with
which he is endowed, thus giving to that
"still small voice" within the soul an infinite
There is not a heart but has same con
ception of a higher life than i; liow feels.
Vvorv vrrnncr man and woman at the gate
way of responsibility is fired with enthusiasm
and ambitious with a great purpose
which they Jong to accomplish: going cni
into the world they have to stem mighty
currents, within and without, the tendencies
of their lower nature and temptations
to sin clothed with beguiling liner.v. Crises
will arrive when the future will b* determined.
Moments of dire peril fraught
with tremendous responsibility. Thcv will
then feel the need of a higher power, a
greater strength than their own to thwart
the enemy of rectitude. The ideal of pure
manhood and womanhood shining before
them will appear unattainably beyond |
their reach, lost forever. How, then, can
they safeguard against this dread experience
which has blighted many promising I
young lives, which, unab'e to stand against
the waves of adversity have sunk helpless
and desDairing? I answer, By being religious.
Religion alone can trive them that
victory which crowns a life complete in
Christ. It places Ihem into direct commutuJfk
fln/l ttlinen flfllitrhfc is that
they should become worthy to share His
glory. Temptations will surely come, but
religion gives them a new meahing; they
arc but reminders of the existence of a
Father who ever waits to aid and sustain,
and, as blessings in disguise they carry
messages of an infinite love for every individual
soul, proclaiming that virtue is the
beginning and the end of holiness, the narrow
road to perfection.
Another wonderful revelation of religion
asserts that you and I spranc from the
bosom of the eternal Father. That as He
is eternal we too shall live through endless
arcs, created in His image, sustained by
His snirit, our life shall gather unto itself
magnificent growth. Religion ?ets before
us a destiny whose divine splendor startles
and overnowers our weak conception of its
glory. The Word of God calls into being
an amazing sense of power. To think, my
brother and sister, that through aeons of
time we shall be adding purity to purity,
love to love, knowledge to knowledge,
glory t<5 glory, living forever in the presence
of the immortal and infinite God. rising
to spiritual planes of inconceivable
grandeur and beauty, scaling height* of
happiness beyond the dream of angels. The
incomprehensible destiny of a living soul
loyal to God and duty hrintrs our faces to
the dust when we consider that this is our
heritage; you and I, with all our weakness,
conquering death and the power of moral
In the midst of the trifling follies of the
world, the conceit of fashion, the decrees
of a thoughtless society, and che whirl of
vapid pleasures, let us keep this thought
like a burning fire within the brain?the
thought of God, holiness and heaven.
Brethren, allow the character of your
heavenly Father as revealed by Jesus
Christ to stand before yon as the goal of
all attainment. Fieligion gives us an ideal
and an incentive to reach it. By contemplating
and really loving this excellence is
to be inspired by it. The Christian man is
always conscious of a divine presence. In
every phase of his life he marks the guidance
of God. He beholds His handiwork
in every flower of the field. The hosts of
shining stars as they whirl through space
declare His majesty, and in the phenomena
of nature he discerns a living expression of
His glory. Thus by contemplating and
adoring His handiwork in the natural
world without and the spiritual world
within, a Christian is given grace to subdue
all things unto the one great end of moral
growth. True religion is not belief in a
ret of dogmas, or the recitation of a creed,
or a profession of faith: tnebe are due me i
accessories of a particular attitude toward i
truth, but it is infinitely more than this? j
it is the life giving breath of the spirit of
God which rules, not certain relations, but
all correspondence of the heart. rouI and
body with the Creator and with fellow
Religion is something iq^re t'lan worship
and exalted states of mental happiness.
We cannot in the stress of competitive
life ignore the demands of imperative duties,
or sacrifice the claims of others 0:1
our consideration for a morbid asceticism.
Religion teaches the true performance of !
little duties, as well as the cultivation of
the soul's highest properties. It was never .
intended that we should go into a desert
place and foster our immortal spirits by
meditation and seclusion. The lesson of
the Christ is. one of practical goodness,
performing all things, even to the giving
of a glass of cold water to the glory of God.
Under these conditions alone cr.n we grow !
to perfect manhood and womanhood.
There is no limitation to the exercise of
the intellect, yet without, a mora! principle
to guide and enlighten its research, 'here
r>an be no advance in the path of th.
Many of the greatest thinkers ha<i
atheists. Religion gives to intellect an
added power ot anaivsis ana UlaLTllllilla- |
Hon. a medium whereby we discern truth.
It places the mentality of man in communion
with infinite knowledge. "Gifted '
with the eye of the spirit," the glory of
God streams upon the riage of history, arid
every denartment of scientific research testifies
to His perfection and wondrous love.
Pile mind of the most brilliant rjho'ar will
only see in phenomena natural results.
Religion alone has power to permeate his
work with magnificent me. ninp. There is
i\ hidden wisdom only revealed to the child
of a "new birth" who has had a special
find individual revelation of the Father.
Religion crowns intellect with a deep insight
into the mysteries of life. :Thc earth,
?ea and sky. the complex organism of society,
the depths of human nature, the
history of nations, all these things shine
with a new luster, and flood the mind with
profound meaning. A blade of grass hecomes
worthy of study, for the Supreme
Intellect has imprinted on its fragile stem
divine thought and action. In everything
we see God. Under the beneficent influence
of His Spirit our faculty of comprehension
is robed with sacredness and grandeur.
for He calls it forth to a glorious
communion and expansion, until one day
it shall fully understand the love whicn
now passeth knowledge.
True religion above all things forms an
upright mind; it elevates the judgment
ibove prejudice, and creates a noble pur
" ' ' - U ?ll !o.
pose to receive Ktiowicuge unu^.i
?itimate cliannels. It endows a man with
sincerity and a quality of fair dealing
ivhieh no university can teach. It breaks
clown the barriers of set opinions and destroys
the bitterness between sects and
parties. It opens the heart to conviction
find a ready candor to confess error. The
intellect was never intended to be bound
to set rules or encompassed with man-made
regulations. Its destiny is an upward, onward
march toward truth, and true religion
fashions ali our inquiries and misgivings
with rcvcrence and ever leads us to
the feet of Him, "with whom there is 110
variableness nor shadow of turning."
Is It Well With the Child?
"Is it well with the child?" was the ques*
ion of the prophet Elisha to the sadicarled
mother in .Shunem, whose loved
md only boy lay dead in her upper chain*
jer. All her earthly joy and lionc were
entred in that dear boy who had closcd
lis eyes to mother and to earth. And
he stricken mother answered confidently
ind with promptness, "It is well." God
lad given that child, and she was ready
o bless the name of the Lord. But there
vas more than reverent submission in that
nother's response. She knew that (Jod
u__ .u,,. arw1 nvPn
:ouin pve iier u<n.iv in...
iow she had come seeking the prophet's
ie!n in pleading with God to restore her
hild. God honored that faith, and reitored
to that mother her child. God
ilways honors faith. If indeed He doea
lot give a trustine mother the very gift
he would have, lie will give her somehing
better. Whatever God has done to
is or to oursj let us know and feel "it is
2 . A
>-. r - > ". ^
THE RELIGIOUS LlST
READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR
WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF. I
Poem: A Faith Song, by Ernest O. Wellesley-Wesley?There
is Nothing So Unlovely
as a Selfish, Isolated Life?Ths
Necessity of Inter-Dependence.
Mv path He knows, one step aside
My feet shall never stray.
His voice I hear who is my guide,
I follow in His way.
'And as I step where He doth lead,
Supply doth He my every need;
He keens me dav by day.
My path He knows; each step is bright
VVith love and light divine;
By faith walk I, and not by sight,
I on His arm recline;
Sustained am I; by His great might
He guards me in the darkest nignt;
He whispers, "Thou art Mine."
My path He kno?s, my heart must sing;
No foe my life shall fear.
Each hour to me rich joys doth bring,
Since He, my Lord, is near.
He will not suffer me to fall:
On Him in every doubt I call,
He never fails to hear.
My path He knows; I do not see
One stef) before I tread;
But sure am I it safe must be
To follow where I'm led.
Some day, but when I do not know,
Some day my Lord will surely show
How senseless human dread.
The Art of Life.
"The Art of Life" was the subject of a
recent sermon by the Rev. John White
Chadwick, minister of the Second Unitar- j
ian Church. He began with a definition of I
the artist spirit as that which seeks and j
ofwiTfl? Ia maba nrto'a wArlr oo ovoollont Oa I
possible, apart from the concrete reward.
Incidentally, he considered the depreciation
of our own time as failing grossly on
the side of art, and repudiated the charge.
He then proceeded to ask: How is it with
the art of life among us, the spirit and resolve
to make life as excellent as possible,
let come what will? Continuing, he said:
"Consider life as a fine art and see what
comes of such an attitude of mind. The
artistic spirit is the spirit which compels
a man to do his best for best's sake. The
shoemaker?I begin where I began?works
in this spirit when he works up to his ideal
! of a good shoe, not down to nis half pay.
I dare believe that my dear father and I
worked in that spirit when in the hard ,
times of 1857, month in and month out,
we made twenty-five pairs of good children's
ankle ties a day, all for one dollar.
The painter works in this spirit when he
works up to his idea of a good picture,
not down to Jones' commercial offer, or
to Robinson's commercial taste. J. W.
Champney, that bright, joyous spirit, who
just slipped away so suddenly, said that he
would rather paint pictures for nothing
than work a private mine of gold. The
man whose private life appeals to him as
a fine art will not work down to any praise
of men or pay, to any standard of the
churches or of good society, so called, but
up to nis own personal ideal 01 justice,
truth and good. By this test we put to j
shame every system of religion which seeks
to fasten a man's eye not on his work but
on some reward which has no vital and
generic relation thereunto.
"The beauty of holiness, of wholeness, is
not only the beauty of the wholeness of a
man's nature in itself, each part consenting
with the rest;' but also tne wholeness
of man with all his Allow men, white men !
and yellow, black men and brown; no
lowec aim than that of the Buddhist saint
who said: "Never will I accept private individual
salvation, never will I enter into
final peace alone. There is nothing so
unlovely as a selfish, isolated life, because
it is the fundamental necessity of our social
living that we should help each other.
The man who does not yield himself to this
necessity makes himself a wart, a wen, a
miserable excresence on the face of human
life. My lady's charms mav ravish every
sensual eye, and to the eye'of reason she
is naked to her bones just in proportion
as her life fails of obedience to its primary
and central law."
The Agnostic's Dilemma.
w 77 !_ T? !!_ xl. - T-%
uirs. rrancis juurwin, wnuug 111 hjc xu* i
ternational Journal of Ethics, on the "Re- j
ligious Training of Children by '.Agnostics," i
Many agnostic fathers and mothers turn j
over the religious education of their children
to nurses or governesses or teachers.
"We do not believe these things," they
tacitly say, "but we do not know what to
teach you, so we will pass you to those
who think they do." And fine work they
make of it! The jumble of half-heathen
and half-Christian notions which get into
the mind of a child exposed to the tender
mercies of nurse maids and volunteer religious
teachers is something to make one i
alternately laugh and weep. Such abdi- j
cation, by the wav, is not peculiar to agnostic
parents. Too many nominal believers
allow ignorant or rash hands to |
sow all manner of strange seeds in the |
soil of their children's minds, which they
themselves leave religiously uncultivated. I
But the special disaster of the unbelieving !
father who surrenders his child's religious j
teaching to another is that a wholly un- |
natural element is thereby brought into :
family life. Childhood reposes a touching
and beautiful confidence in the abso- |
lute wisdom of parents. Therefore, for j
xnem 10 sianu aside, m presence ui iuc 1
deepest things of life?to say: "We can- J
not talk to you about all that; you must !
believe what so and so tells you, though j
we cannot"?is to introduce rupture and j
self-repression into the lives of children, J
most unwholesome'y. i
"What a Lot I Have Left!"
A poor fellow, a business man in New
York City, after hard struggling was "dead
broke," and with a heavy heart went across
the river to his home in Brooklyn. It had
been a terrible day for him. When he entered
his home they were quick to.discern
the trouble. They saw things had gone
wrong. Without touching the meal that
had been Drepared for him he flung himself
down and said, "All is go' The crash
has come, and we have nothing left. Nothing
left." His little daughter, a wee, bright
curly-headed thing, came along to the sofa
and laid her head^ on her tried father's
bosom ana saia: ' rapa, 1 am ieu. men |
the wife who had struggled by his side as |
brave wives do in hours of darkness, came
over and flung her arms round the man and
the little child on his breast, and said,
"John, I am left." And the old grandmother
got up from her arm-chair by the
fire and tottered over and as in days gone
by before worry and care were born, said,
"Son, and the Lord and all His promises
are left." "My God, forgive me," exclaimed
thcman, "what a lot I have left."
and he started to his feet to renew the battle
and trust his way still through th* ^
' Socret of SuceenB.
Earnestness of purpose, expressed in '
manner and evidenced in deed, is the se- ,
cret of success in life's temporalities. The j
same characteristic manifested in Christian !
activity would lead up to fuller spiritual (
experience and be productive of a more j ]
Why There Must Be Shadow*. j
Loftier destinies compel some present 1
darkness, just as mountains east a shadow. ' i
If life were never to go to a higher stage, '
always to stay on the present level, we <
might be able co see everything clearly, and '
understand everything perfectly even now. . i
Cotton In Northern Australia.
In a paper read before the Melbovno
Geographical Society recently a m on lie
said that there are million.? of acres of land |
in Northern Australia suitable for growing |
cotton. If cheap labor were allowed thou- i 1
sands of settlers would find a profitable
outlet for their enterprises, and British '
cotton spinners would be glad to send ''s- i 1
perts to advise as to the best seed and . !
mode of cultivation. *
A Steam Life Uoat. <
A steam lifeboat haa been built in England
and sent to Australia. The crafi i*
fifty-six feet long, thirteen feet wide, and
draws three feet seven inches. The hull U (
made of steel; the encines have 226 horse ,
power and the boat will make fifteen milej <
an hour. .
'' - ? I- . ii -r t
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 1
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS ^
FOR SEPTEMBER 13.
Subject: David Becomes King:. 2 Sam. H4
1-10?Golden Text, P?a. 133-1-Menw
ory Tenet, 1-3?Commentary on t'j* J
day's l?hod. j 4|
I. David anointed king at Hebron (vg?
1-7). "1. After this." After the death of
Saul and bis sons. "Inquired of the Lord.'* "
By means of Abiathar the priest who wa#
with David during his fugitive life. "At
that decisive turning point in his life, 'j
David wished to know the will of the Lord. V
He saw that the promise of the kingdom
was now to be fulfilled to him. As he coulcf ' v
no longer remain in the land of the Phili*
tines, but must return to his own country/ -*M
and as the northern part of the land waff
hr tho Philistines, the return to th?
territory of his own tribe was most natural;
for there, where he had a long time
found refuge (1 Sain. 22:5) he might count
oat a large following, and firm support and1
protection against the remains of Saul's
army under Abner." "Cities of Judah.'^ /
It would be useless to think bf undertaking
to^assume control of the country in the
northern part of the kingdom, as that was
in the hands of the Philistines, and David
was in no position to drive them ont,
"Go up." "Going up" meant .aspuming'
royal authority. God's answer was inline*
diate and clear. David's decision, guided
by God, was to establish himself aa the <&
king at once. "Unto Hebron." One of the
most ancient cities of the world. "The
central position of Hebron in the tribe of
Judah, its mountainous and defensible
situation, its importance as a priestly set- J
tlement and an ancient royal city, the
patriarchal associations connected with it, ^
combined to render it the most suitable
capital for the new kingdom. In its neighborhood,
moreover. David had spent a con- J
eiderable part of his fugitive life and*
jrained many supporters. See 1 Sana. 30,
2. "So David went un." It may be well :.
to note some of the leading elements which
we discern in David's life and character a?
he enters upon his new life. "He-by, L
A vivid sense of God's presence. 2. Per- - )
sonal prowess. 3. Promptitude in all hie
movements. 4. A patience that was sub- t "!
lime. 5. An affectionate heart. 9. A cool
head and a steady nerve! 7. Wide expertence.
8. A heart loyal to God. Thfe loy- V
altv was so intense that .his cauM and i
God's cause became identical, and he could
not readily distinguish between God'# enemies
and his own;'end in spite of all hie
sins and blunders, this must "impress every
impartial reader as -the leading character- y&t
istic of King David. "Thither." We are
to think of f,hi?- ioilrnev as a march of an ift?
army, or, rather, ?he migration of a large
comDanv of guerillas. There were few
household effects and few women and I
children in the company; it was made up? . M
of bronzed youths inured to hardship. Afl
among v.-hom rank and fame were secured-^^H
by daring deeds mther than by anything- ^
comparable to modern military skill. k
3. 4. "Hie men." The six hundred met*
of his chosen band. "With his household."
There was to be no more roaming in exile,
but each one was to settle down to the
duties of a peaceful and quiet life.- "Cities'
of Hebron." The small towns which but*
rounded Hebron. "Men of Judah." Thrf i
elders of .Tudah. the official representative#
of the tribe. "Anointed.". He had been
privately anointed by Samuel, by which
ne acquired a right to the kingdom. The jjtg
other parts of the kingdom were, as yet, '?
attached to the family of Saul. 'i'jT
5. "David sent Ynessenger*."' This wo#
David's first act as king, and-it was worthy ' %&
of him. He had been informed of the L
manner in which the Philistines bad cari '.?
ried away the bodies of Saul and bis scn? <?
after the battle. He had also been told -M*
that the inhabitants of Jabesh-griiead had
sent forth a'partv by niaht and nad taken \'
the bodies from the wall and carried ttoes? >?#.]
safely to their own town and buried them
JBlessed De ye." JJavia respectea oaui u
his once legitimate sovereign; he loved Vv$
Jonathan as his most intimate' friend-- ,.7$
Saul bad greatly injured David, but that '$3
did not cancel his respect for bim as the*
anointed of God, and as the king of Israel w|8
No mean spirit of revenge found place ia "Ju
bis breast. He showed also that he had u j
no wish or intention to punish Saul's ad- v'*h
herents, but- was kindly disposed - toward J
them. * .
6, 7. "Will renuite you." Will show 1
you this kindness; th'at is. the attention' >' M
and honor shown in the blessings I give- J
you through these messengers. "Be ye
valiant." Be of good courage,* be strong
and show vourselves brave men. "Saul | t
is dead." And therefore ye are without a
king unless ye acknowledge me, as the
bouse of Judah has done.
II. Iph-bosneth king over Israel (vs. 8-10). AM
8. "Ish-bosheth." Saul's fourth and only
surviving son. He was a mere tool in the
hands of Abner. Abner was a great general,
and if Ish-bosheth, who was-'a weak ~
man. could he made king, Abner would -J
almost supreme. _ "Mahanaim." Abner "
chose this town because it was on tne
eastern sid.v of the Joraan, and so beyond
the range of the Philistines, wno never
seemed to have crossed the river.
9. "Made him king." Here was 'the
establishment of a rival kingdom, which
probably would have had no existence *
out for Abner. He was counn to Saut. ''
Loyalty to the house of his late master
was mixed up with opposition to David,
and views of pmonal ambition in hi* j
originating this factious movement. He, j ']
too. was alive to the importance of eecur- '
ing the eastern tribes. "G'i'ead." The land
beyond Jordan. "Ashurites." The tribe j
of Ashur in the extreme north. "Jezreel.""
The extensive valley bordering on the central
tribes. "Eohraim . . . Benjamin.'*
These tribes, which liad not vet been con
quered hv the Philistines, holding 110 doubt .
to the house of Saul. "Over all Israel-''
The majority of Israel, not of Judaic * -"
10. "Reigned two years." Five years
and more had passed since the death of
Saul, and Abrer now proclaimed Ish- *
bosheth kins of Israel, and thought himself
nowerful enough to reduce Judah to , ^
obedience. David seems tov have been
anointed very soon after Saul's death, but
it must have taken Abner some time to
gather up the scattered army and recover^?
from the defeat ami losses of Gilhoa. where
Saul and his three sons died,'sufficiently ^
to attend to the inauguration of Ish- I
III. David king over all Israel (5: -1-10).
After Abner and jHh-bosheth were assn?-^^M
sinated, the tribes of Israel came to David,|^BH
through their elders. and unred him to be-^BH
come king over all Israel. They gave Rood w
reasons for this: 1. David was one of their 1
race. 2. He had shown himself worthy. . ?
3. He Map divinely appointed. 4. He un- I
derstood the duties of a king. David was fi
then anointed king over all Israel. This B
was his third anointing. The king then fl
fan* fA Tni>-'enlom In vciI< ** 19
Names of Ruinnn Horses. S
At the recent excavations in the Rom&n I
Forum, says the Now York Commercial
Advertiser, an inscribed stone in honor of
Avilius Teres, a chariot driver of the time ffi
of the Emperor Domitian, were brought to ^ Bj
light. It will probably interest modern S
sportsmen to learu that the inscription^
(rives the names of the horses with which"
Avilius Teres won his triumphs in the
arena, their birthplaces and their colore. V
The names are eighty in number, and in- |
elude the following: Wolf. Sparrow, Rob- 9
her. Bee, Dove, Pearl. Kmerald. Jewel, I
Eagle, Red Fox, The Most Lucky. One, |
Dcsolator, Dagger, etc. The naturalist xvill |
find an important historical hint in the
fact that the prea' majority of the horses I
named upon the stone are described as
'Africans." There arc oniy sincrle indica- I
tions of a Spanish, a (I tllic. a Thessalian m
ind an Aetolian horse having assisted the j|
rcnowced Avilius to gain his victories.
Radical Departure in lirillslt Vfarshipo.
The British .Admiralty has decided to
build three new battleships of 1S.OOO tons, jffl
which have been designed hy I'itilip Watts,
the Director of Naval ('(instruction. The
most notable departure in the new ship? Hi
will be in the armor plating for t,he'sides
ind hull. An armor licit of ten-inch Kmbp^^H
steel, tapering away to six inches, will b^fljH
continued the whole length of the broa^fl^B
sine, inif is inc nrsi time tins nas
itter.iptcd in the i>.tttloxiii|>*of any countrj^^ME
To Study American Systems.
The Royal Commission appointed to eJ^pESl
imine into the question of London sfreetwfc. M
traffic has derided to .send a sub committee fl
:o the United States in the autumn to ^ M
study American systems of liansportatiflij,