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[f LUKEHj |{ intL r | I By Prof. Wm. Henry Pe i | Author of the "TSe Stone-Cutte | f of Lisbon," Etc. CHAPTER XXIII. Continued. "Nothing new. An imposture that dates back nearly twenty-five years. My true name Is not Luke Hammond. About twenty-five years ago I made the- acquaintance of an American gentleman, to whom my facial and personal resemblance was so remarkable, that my own 6ister twice addressed him. supposing that he was I. This gentleman was of my age, and even 1X1-7 IUUCO VI V U* * UJV.CO UCiC OiUJiiai. He had been traveling over Europe and Asia, and even Africa, for seven years before he met me in London. Soon after we became acquainted he Sickened and died, and before his death he gave me all his papers, letters and effects, to be delivered to a young lady In Nfew Hampshire, to whom he was betrothed. He told me that he and she had pledged their vows when he was eighteen, but that her parents had consented to the match only upon the condition that he should wait seven years?that is, until he should be twenty-five years. He was an orphan, rich, and with but one near relative on earth, a sister, who afterwards became your wife, the mother of Catharine Elgin. Being by nature of a roving disposition, and by the will of his father in full possession of his inheritance, he determined to travel, especially as the parents of his betrothed for fcade any further communication between the lovers for at least five years. Bidding his betrothed adieu, and exchanging vows of eternal fidelity, he et forth upon his travels. "He was returning when he died in London, after confiding to me his story and effects, with a will which bequeathed the greater part of his property to his betrothed, and the remainder to his sister. Among his effects I found a miniature of his betrothed, which she had sent to him a few months before, for after a silence of five years, correspondence had been renewed. The name of his betrothed was Clara Sandford, and the beauty of her picture determined me to attempt an imposture which should make me the husband of the original. Besides, I would by success become master of a handsome fortune, and bury my own identity in that of Clara's lover. In fact, my own liberty, and perhaps my life, demanded that I should fly from England and conceal myself in America. . "In pursuance of this design I made myself master ol' all the information contained in this young American's letters, as regarded himself and his friends. He had no acquaintances in England, and fortunately for my success, -was traveling under an assumed name, as is often the practice with travelers who delight in a little mystery. He died and was'buried under his assumed name, and I took his true name and came to America. "Seven years of travel will always , make a great change in one's appear- , ance, and as he was only eighteen when he left New Hampshire, it was , not thought strange by those who once knew him that they found much difficulty in recognizing a former youthful townsman m tne tall, dark ana bearded stranger of twenty-five years of age. > "I had learned that Clara Sandford's parents had died, from her letters to her lover, and that his sister had married yon, Henry Elgin, and settled in this city of New York, before I left England. "At first glance Clara Sandford recognized me as her long absent lover. "This was not strange, as I had learned from her letters to mm that she had no likeness of nim, and eagerly desired one, a request with which her lover had not complied, as he desired to see if she would recognize him after years of separation. "Knowing this, I easily forged his writing, and sent her my own likeness v-ln miniature as his. a few davs hefnrp I left England." "What a scoundrel! what a wretch!" cried Elgin, unable to control his indignation. "You flatter me," sneered Hammond, and continued: "Clara Sandford was the first to recognize me, and afterwards others did the same. We were wedded witAiil one week after I met her." "Poor, unfortunate, miserable woman!" exclaimed Kate, bursting into tears, and forgetting her own bitter wrongs and fears in her sympathy for the unhappy mistake of a fond, noble, and faithful heart. Hammond compressed his lips with silent rage, and after glaring at Kate fiercely, continued: "Fearing ultimate detection from her friends, who often conversed with me of the dead man's young days, thinking me him, I gave out the report that I had ozee been smitten by a sunstroke during my travels, and since then that my memory of my life prior to that misfortune was very defective. "Still I feared detection, as I often saw several of the old playmates of the dead lover eyeing me suspiciously, and heard tbem say that it was very Strange I had forgotten so much. Therefore I sold out all my interest in the little village, and settled in Virgmia." "And your wife? The unfortunate 1 .1 !?'J? Tiiuuj ui jour siupeuuuus ueeeu." asked Elgin. "Ciara began to suspect something wrong after we bad been married four months," said Luke. "I continued to deceive lier until in my sleep, during a slight illness, she overheard me babtoling of my first and dead wife." "Ah!" sighed Elgin. "Unfortunate Clara! I knew her well?she was a xiOMie lady, rod iier fate most cruel." I Kate was sobbinc bitterly aud Ler! In Btoj . . >*> U .. . . \MMOND, ) 4ISER. Jl jck, I Copyright 1896, I I | ' I by Eodckx Bonneb's Sosa. | 9 I (AS rights reserved.) I face was hidden by her manacled hands. "You see, both of you, what manner of man I am," said Luke, seeming to swell with villainous pride of his cunning. "So do not think to baffle me." "Go on, fiend! Go on with this catalogue of crime, that we may hear the end of it, and be rid of your detestable presence," 6aid Elgin, sternly. "Clara heard enough from my treacherous sleep talk," said Luke, "to more than arouse her suspicions. We were then in Virginia, near Richmond, far from the home and friends of her youth. She was In my power. I con fessed all to her, and begged her for- i giveness. I told her her lover was i dead. I was able to prove to her that j he was no more. I showed her his last < will, and made the fact of his death ? clear and beyond all doubt to her mind. ] I appealed to her as my wife, as ber < husband, to forgive the deceit, for, by j my life, Henry Elgin, I had learned to love her." j "Wretch! who could not have loved j the gentle and beautiful, noble and faithful Clara Sandford?" cried Elgin. "Did she forgive you, monster?" "She did forgive me; not for my J sake, but for the sake of our then unborn child," said Hammond, very pale and much agitated, hard-hearted vil- 1 lain as he was. Henry Elgin groaned, and poor < Kate's grief was pitiable to see. t Little did Luke Hammond know t that a third listener was hearing this s confession, and hearing it with clenched hands, fiery heart and hard- f set teeth?longing to be able to burst & from his confinement, and strangle c him there on the spot?kill him! crush him as a venomous thing unfit to live. Hammond continued: "But after Clara heard that I was not her lover, but a spurious Luke Hammond, triumphant in my plots, she never spoke to me, or came near me, when it was possible for her to shun me without creating suspicion, or attracting the attention of those who knew us. All my efforts to win her love were useless. She remained faithful to the love of her youth, though in his English grave." "Noble, true-hearted woman!" said Elgin. "And I, Luke Hammond, or whoever you are," cried Kate, with sudden vehemence, "will be as true to him? James Greene, whom you have assassinated!" "May heaven help thee, my noble girl!" said Elgin, and longing to tell her that her lover was listening bo near. Hammond?for so we shall continue 1 to call him, for the sake of clearnesssmiled his hard, incredulous sneer, and I continued: f "At lengtn, a few weeks before our t child was born, Clara lost her reason." c "I do not doubt it!" sighed Elgin. \ "But she was not wild in her insanity," said Luke. "She became as if \ deaf and dumb?blind to all around her. She became a mere living ma- t chine, without thought, desires or more t than mere life. She died two days I after the birth of my son." I "She was most happy in dying," said r Elgin. t "After her death," continued Hammond, "I gave the child to the care of a my sister, who Was living near at the time, though none suspected her to be r my sister. Then I came to Npw I York " "May that day be accursed!" ex- c claimed the fiery-hearted Elgin. "I easily deceived your wife," said g Luke. "She had no reason to suspect j deceit. She had not seen her brother for more than eight years, was very j ill T no ssf PIako in, auu a, ao me uuouaiiu vi viaia, and Clara,. too, had often exchanged 3 letters "with her and with you. You and your wife never dreamed that I i was an imposter." t "Never! If I had I would have slain , you, or seen you dragged to prison for ] life!" cried Elgin. "And now, monstrous villain! what is your true name, and who are you?" "That is of no importance to you," said Hammond. "It should be enough for you to know that I am of no kin to your daughter, and the bar of kindred blood cannot prevent me from becoming her husband. Let it suffice to say, that my mother was the daughter of an English nobleman, my father the son of an English squire " "Enough! I care nothing for your descent! What is descent to us of America!" cried Elgin, scornfully. "I wish to know your true name." "And why?" asked Luke. "To?no, not to curse it," said Elgin. "A feeble man like me, a repentant Sinner?tnougn, xnans neaveu, uoi such a fiend as you are?should not presume to curse a fellow-mortal; but I wish to hear it that I may know the real name of the villain who so triumphs in iniquity." "It is dangerous to me to utter it," said Hammond. "It will accomplish nothing to tell it; and now, once for all, Henry Elgin, will you make over your estate to Catharine Elgin, dating the will prior to your supposed decease?" "Why do you not complete your villainy by murdering me at once?" demanded Elgin. "It would be horrible for a daughter to marry the murderer of her father." "Think not I would marry the son . of Nicholas Dunn though death were j my only alternative!" exclaimed Kate, j "Ah! you have learned so much," , said Luke, sneeringly. "You heard " , "You and Nancy Harker conversing ( during my pretended delirium." said 1 Kate. "Father, this man is Nancy Harker's brother, and old Fan is their mother!" "Two' demons and a witch for their ' mother." said Elsin. . I "Catharine Elgin," said Luke, with 3tern ferocity, "I said that it -would be horrible for a daughter to marry the murderer of her father; but it -would [>e more horrible for a daughter to be the murderess of her father." "What do you mean, sir?" asked Kate. "I mean, and I swear it," said Hammond, rising, "that if you do not eonsent to be my wife, and to marry me to-night, your father 6hall die, and you shall become mv wife, whether you will or not My wedded wife, too. No sham ceremony. To men like me, means to make such as you act and speak, yet not know what you do, are never wanting." "You will give her stupefying drugs!" sxclaimed Elgin, in horror. "I will. So enough for the present," said Hammond, as Nancy Harker rapped at the door. He opened the door and said: "Henry and Catharine Elgin, it is nearly dawn. You shall now behold each other for the last time. I will leave you together for a few momeuts, that you may consult upon your situation. You, Elgin, I advise to persuade Four daughter to yield. Catharine. I idvise you to persuade your father to 3o the same. You can not escape. My sister will be in the ante-chamber. Do not be afraid of being overheard; you noTr Trhicr^T TT/YII ITnATT Pnmo VOTIPTT ?? Um]7Vi| J VU UUV ?f. VVMi^i AlUUVJl sve will leave them alone together for l time. You may close and lock this loor, and lie down upon your bed. iVfter a quarter of an hour, lead Miss Elgin to her prison, and when Daniel )r Stephen has returned, come to me in ny library." Hammond and Nancy left the room, md Elgin and his daughter were alone n the Crimson Chamber. CHAPTER XX1T. CHE CBIMSON CHAMBEB ANI? THE LIBRARY. When they were alone Elgin said to ils daughter: "They may not hear us, my dear !hild, but we have reason to fear that hey will watch us. Therefore, cast hat napkin over the door knob, that no ipying eye may peep in." Kate did as he desired, and Elgin groaned with all a fond father's anguish as he saw how much the handuffs bound the arms that were wont to le wound in loving embrace around his leek. "My angel girl," said he, as Kate reurned to the bedside, "you perceive a ittle food remains upon my dishes. Sat, I b^g of you, that you may be strengthened to hold out, even unto leath, against that wicked man." "You are sure the food is not >oisoned, dear father?" asked Kate, as she obeyed. "I am, my poor child," said Elgin. 'And now that you have eaten, do not ry aloud when I tell you a most joyful hing." Kate looked surprised. What could ler pobr imprisoned father have to tell ier that might be joyful. "Yes, my child," said Elgin. "Now vniir our r>1nco tr\ mw lino " As she complied, he whispered: "James Green is alive! Wait! He i las escaped from the well, and i? now n this chimney!" Kate stared at her father, terrified est his troubles had made him insane. "I speak the truth, my child," said Slgin. "Sit there on the bed, and lean orward so as to place your face in h$ opening above the grate. So. Now :all his name. Do not fear?the sound rill go upward." "James!" cried Kate, in a loud whisper. "My dear Kate! Are you there!" was tie aubwer sue received. iteacn your land?ah! I forgot. The villain has landcuffed you. But be of good cheer. shall escape. Perhaps not before nany hours. But be firm and baffle he rascal as long as you can." "You have heard all he said to us?" I isked Kate. "Every word," said Greene. "And low farewell for a time. Nancy larker will soon return." "May heaven work with you, dear, [ear James," said Kate. "Heaven has; heaven will, my Katy," ;aid the stout-hearted young car- i >enter. Kate now withdrew from the grate, j ind Elgin said: "My dear Kate, should aid not reach rou before night?I see it is day dawn -try to gain as much time as you can. win nsK ior time to renect, ana you nust do the same. You said old Fan vas the mother of this wicked couple. Does she know it?" To be continued. "An American Ocean." I close, then, by the assertion that at east one of the great problems of tha Pacific, that of commerce, has been solved, and solved in favor of the Unl:ed States. In the exchange of mutullly necessary commodities, in length )f frontage upon the ocean, in harbors, n way stations for vessels and cables, n advantageous points for distribution ind concentration of trade, and even in :he currents of air and water which nature has given, the conditions favor the United States. Indeed, when we consider all these things, we might almost claim the Pacific as essentially our dttd. Stretching along its eastern coast from the tropics to the Arctics, :hence across its northern borders, then for more than a thousand miles on its crestern shore, in the Samoan group on the south, and in a line of islands across its very centre, the American flag floats, and will continue to float, and by its presence, its ennobling purposes and its power for civilization and advancement it proclaims, and will continue to proclaim that the Pacific S, ail(l Will reinmu, uu .iu;ei~ii-uu utcau, ?O. P. Austin, in the National Geographic Magazine. An Esquimaux Arrow. An Esquimau arrow cf walrus ivory, found imbedded in the breast of a healthy Canadian gray goose shot near Spokane, is on view in a store in that city. No arrow of that sort was ever seen in Spokane before. The bird had evidently carried it thousands upon 1 thousands of miles from the Far North, j where it was shot by some Esquimau. I You can always tell a young fellow who hap just graduated from college, but you can't tell him much. | A SERMON FOR SUNDAY A BKILLIAN I MIS) I UlflUAL U/bUUUrlbt ON THE REFORMATION. The Rev. J. r. Wilson Talk* Instructively of That Period When tbe Foundatloni of Trne Religion* Liberty Were LaidFreetng; the Mind From Tliralldoin. New York City.?In the South CongTe Rational Church, Brooklyn, the Rev. J. C Wilson, associate pastor, delivered a dis course on "The Struggle for Religious Lib erty," the subject being "Europe on th< Eve of the Reformation." The text ivai Acts v., 38 and 39: "And now I say nnt< you, Refrain from these men, and let then alone; for if this counsel or this work b of men, it will come to naught, but it it b< of God, ye cannot overthrow it; lest hapl; ye be found even to light against Goa.' Mr. Wilson said: Let me suggest at the outset that th< struggle for religious liberty and what i known as the Reformation are not in al respects identical movements. The Reior mation wa6 a great tidal wave which swep over Europe in the sixteenth century, ou of the vast and troubled sea of the centur ies whose waters were greatly agitated b; the struggle for religious lioerty. It wai the culmination of that struggle. It assert ed the fundamental principles upon whicl it had proceeded, and succeeded in layinj broad and secure foundations upon -whicl true religious liberty could be built, but i .left some of the higher standards and fine: ideals unattained. In that respect there ii much yet to be desired. In view of the fact that the Reformatio] split Europe into two great warring relig ious camps, it is necessary to remind our selves that up to that time there had beei but one Christian church in Western Eu rope. And the - iruggle for religious libertj went on within that church and not out side of it, nor against it, after the lirs three centuries. Whatever glory and what ever shame attaches to that church durinj the first fifteen centuries is shared equalli bv us all. Protestants and Roman Catholii alike. The Reformation itself originate< within the Roman Catholic Church, ant was led by men bred in her schools ant cloisters. We should also remember tha the Roman Catholic Church of the fifteenti and sixteenth centuries is not the Romai Catholic Church of the twentieth centur] and in the United States. Froci a very early age religious differ ences have engendered strife and stirre< the most violent passions of men. Althougi the Jews tasted the bitterness of persecu tion, that did not prevent them fron pressing the same cup to the lips of tb > early Christians and, with the aid of th Romans, making them drink it to its dregs Then were written the first pages in thi most sanguinary and thrilling story?i story of unutterable suffering and grim en durance for conscience sake?which his tory's pages record. It can scarcely b called a struggle. It iyas as impossible foi the obscure and defenseless sufferers to re eist their enemies as for a fly to resist thi hand that crushes it. Judgecl from appear ances, it was a remorseless massacre, whicl cr.ushed its victims into the earth. But th< real forces that were working out the prob lem were not on the surface. The odd! against which the early Christians weri matched drove them to "seek refuge in thi mountain fastnesses arid in the subterra nean caverns, known as catacombs. Heri they cherished their faith and worship un til the violence of their enemies abated After two centuries they came forth fron their hiding places, disciplined by hard ship, trained to prudence and foresight bi the peril in which they had lived ana witi a compact and efficient organization. Theii leaders had improved their long seclusioi to cultivate letters and arts, and soon tool leading places among scholars and men o: affairs; so that when Constantine succeed ed to the undivided possession of suprem< power in the Roman Empire prudence, i; not preference, moved him to an allianc< with them. Then began a new phase in the strug^h for religious liberty. The despised am persecuted Christians., now risen to place! of power and possessing the throne in th< person of the Emperor, did not abuse theii trust. Such was the spirit of sweet rea sonableness which animated them that th< first Christian Emperor issued an edict o religious toleration, known as the edict o Milan, which granted religious liberty with in the empire, on the basis of the sacrec rights of conscience; only those' religioui rites were prohibited which involved im morality, magic or sorcery. Not until thi fatal passion for power had been aroused ir them by its possession did the Christians resort to persecution. The organization o the Christian church kept pace with iti spread in Europe. From Rome as a centri the missionaries penetrated to all parts o Europe. They carried with them the Jovi of the mother church from which thej went and bound the churches which thej planted to her in gratitude and Christiai fellowship. The confidence and affectior which she won by her generosity and self sacrifice in the eosnel. she soon came to de mand as her right, and when at length th< Bishop of Rome secured the political pow er of nis city he aspired to make the tradi tional capital of the world its ecclesiastica capital also, then, with the policy of mili tary Rome the Christian church adopted also, the ambitious and relentless spirit o the Caesars. Ecclesiastical Rome usurpec the rights of mankind and perverted tneii liberties as ruthlessly as did political Rome 1'nrough successive stages the churcl mounted to the throne of its power unti it was more absolute than thejempire hat ever essayed to be. Men like Gregory th( Great, Leo III. and Hildebrand made th< most astonishing claims, and absolute su premacy in all human affairs, and treatei with the utmost severity all who withstoot their claims. Unavailing protests to theii astounding pretensions were raised by mer like John Scotus, Abelard Arnold, of Bres cia and Wickliff, and in the humbler walk' of life opposition showed itself in sue! Beets as the Albigenses and the Waldenses --- i-i r ?j?;?j UCJtiiur ui w u it: 11 ucsircu uu ocpaiaic luciu selves from the Catholic. Church, but botl of them desired that its pretensions shoulc be moderated and its abuses reformed ac cording to the scriptural requirements o: apostolic simplicity and purity. These met were simple minded and their lives wen pure, but they were subjected to the mosl remorseless persecution. Their heroic en durance and unfaltering faith has coverec their memory with a halo of glory like untt that which surrounds the early Christiar martyrs. During the massacre of the Albi genses was born the order of the Domini cans, into whose hands was intrusted th< institution known as the Inquisition, th( most diabolical engine of intolerance anc persecution that human ingenuity ever de vised. It is the fate of all despotisms to worl< their own destruction by a fatal disregart of the limits of human endurance, anc when the papacy added the horrors of th? Inquisition to the usurpation of the mosl sacred of human rights, and aggravated hei offenses by the flagrant immorality of the clergy, she transcended her limits and in voked the long slumbering and accumu lated wrath of centuries, which burst forth in the Reformation, disrupted her solid empire, and caused her the loss of two thirds of her spiritual children. Two great movements in the Middle Age1contributed to hasten the triumph of re ligious liberty in Europe. They were the Crusades and the Renaissance. The relipious enthusiasm of Europe, dormant foi centuries, was kindled by the fiery eloquence of Peter the Hermit, as he preached a crusade against the '"infidel Turks," foi the purpose of rescuing the Holy Sepulchei from their hands. It was as when a door is suddenly opened into a house where a fire has been long smoldering, smothered in its own smoke, the whole building is wrapped in a sudden conflagration; or as when a volcano long extinct bursts into sudden activity. A spontaneous uprising, as of one man, unparalleled in history, took place among all classes of peopie. Kings and peasants, priests and lawyers, merchants and bankers were swept by the same mighty impulse and fired by the same zeal, which for the time burned alike in every breast and submerged calculations and self-interest. All alike were moved to venture life and fortune in the hn!v miu During the space of 200 years seven upheavals of the population took place known as the Crusades, five of them prodigious and two of them only relatively lesser, all of them mighty. Before the frenzy kindled by Peter the Hermit died out immense treasure was squandered, multitudes of lives were ?pcrificed and apparently nothing accomplished; total :u:d disastrous failure seemed \o attend it a'!. Hut here apain we ur? mistaken *!f we iudge li.v apprimin'.-es. For ait hough the Crusaders wiistened tue plains cf Asia Mi ? nor with their bones and dyed the era?? of Northern Africa with their blood without achieving any permanent results in either Asia or Africa, their exodus from Europe and their return to tbeir former homes were attended by consequancea in Europe far greater than would nave been the conquest of all the Kast and the rescue f of the relies of all the saints. In the first i place they had broken the power of the - Saracens bv successive impacts upon .hem, by prolonged conflict with them. Thev had fought fire with tire. Religious " fanaticism was matched against religious fanaticism, and it inflicted such punish* ment upon the rapacious and cruel Mu?sul* * man that he has never been able to rally 5 from it. Although he reached the shores 3 of Europe later on. he was exhausted with 3 the struggle, and has continued in a state 1 of languishing impotencv ever since. In e the second place the "Crusadcj had a - marked and lasting effect upon the C,ruVt saders themselves, end in spite of tbeir suffering and losses the gain was greater than the loss, for it brought them into di* rect and immediate contact with the s East, at that time the cultivated find re* 1 fined portion of the world. Constant'mo* pie and Antiocb, the tTN great storehouses t of ancient art and learning, and the cen* t tres of the wealth and culture of the East, had become laminar to tnem. Antiocn F was for a time in their hands. The spien9 did buildings, fine fabrics, beautiful stat ues, costly gems, were a revelation to the i Crusaders, and served as object lessons, ? while the elegant refinements, splendid 1 courtesy, magnificent manners and ancient t learning of the East ,were not -without their r effect upon the coarse, nude and untamed 3 barbarians of the West. Those who survived the conflict returned with new ideas 1 of the character of the world in which they lived, of the meaning of civilization, of the possibilities of humanitv, and of the de3 fects of Europe. They had been to school and had traveled. Their view of life had V been broadened and their minds enriched ' by contact with superior conditions of iife. t and a great mental and moral revolution - had been wrought in ther". S But the Crusades had also an immediate T and lasting effect UDon Europe itself. For t' bv enlisting in the Crusades the serf bought j his freedom from the soil. The debtor was | freed from his creditor. He that went out i a slave came back a free man with gold t coin in his pocket and some new ideas of i the world in his head. Serfdom, villainage 1 and slaverv were practically abolished in f Europe. The cities also had been able, by immense sums of money paid to the hered; itary princes, who held lordship over them, i to buy their freedom and secure charters * for themselves which made them independ* ent in the control of petty rulers, and by 1 the lone absence of the nobles in the East, e the middle classes had learned to adminise ter their own affairs, and so the backbone * of the feudal system was broken and the e neriod of freedom and enlightenment came a in. Modern industrialism was inaugurated. * New ideas sprang un and a redistribution !* of wealth and privileges took place, toe gether with a new sense of their own place r in the world and new wants and arabi" tions in the common people. The imme5 diate results to Europe of the Crusadea * were incalculable. A new spirit of human1 ity and of enterprise, of hone and of am? bition had sprung up. and the death war* rant was signed of the ancient regime of ignorance, superstition and terror which i had reigned for a thousand years. 5 The second great movement that hast' ened the final conflict for religious liberty I was the Renaissance or revival of learning in Europe which followed UDon the taking * of Constantinople by the Turks in 1153. 1 That was a momentous event for Western * Europe. It sent hundreds of Greek scbolf ars and literatti to find refuse in the West. 1 The learninz and the MSS. which they r brought with them created a great stir. 1 Schools, academies and universities sprang E up everywhere, and the church ceased to 1 be the "sole custodian of knowledge. It " was as a part of that movement mac me ? Universitv of Wittenberg was established 1 bv the Elector of Saxony, to which one Martin Luther came in 1508 as preacher and professor of theology. A spirit of in nuirv wa9 awakened, investigations were > 1 instituted, and historical and scientific 3 studies were taken up in real earnest. The 2 cold and lifeless formalism that had charr acterized the logic of the school men disappeared. The study of the Greek and Roj. man classics became a passion. Princes * and potentates vied with each other in se1 curing eminent scholars and elegant literatti to adorn their courts, and the rich J and the great became the profuse patrons 3 of learning, and soared no pains and no " expense in collecting MSS. and creating ' ?J Tho nrtrnries anu kuhuuib m i?uu.i.(, ?? | minds of men already liberated from their ' ancient thralldom by the Crusades were f quickened and enlightened by the new f learning which soon spread among all i ? classes of the peopJ* J In addition to these great movements ; find perhaps as a consequence of them was [ the spirit of adventure which now broke '* out simultaneously in Italy and Spain, 1 France and England. Germany and Hoi1 land. Inspired by Columbus, a native of * Genoa. Ttaly. hundreds of adventurers, braved the perils of the untraversed seas 2 in search of new lands, or new passages to the East. New continents were discovered ' and the globe was circumnavigated. In1 vention also was auickened, printing by movable types and the manufacture of : paper from rags had but recently been inj vented. The mariner's compass came into 1 general use in navigation. The telescope r was invented and the heavens explored for new worids, as the goas for new lands. | The whole period was one of unpreeedentI ed mental activity and ferment. Coperni* j cus, by his new system of astronomy, and ; Kepler, by his laws, were soon revolution izing astronomy. All of these '.hings had " their effects upon the minds of men. The j ? * J ? C i! | j discovery 01 tne size anasrwpe ui mc nnu, ' of its relation to other bodies in space: of r the immense distances in the heavens and 1 the vast systems of worlds in space; the changes of men's ideas as to the centre of ? the universe and the revelation that it was 1 not the earth, but that the earth was only > an insignificant member of a system whose " centre was the sun; all served to teach ! men the uncertainty and instability of 1 things they had been accustomed to regard I as established beyond the peradventure of ' doubt, and led them to expect and preJ pared them to receive changes in other ' spheres of thought and realms 1* life. A c spirit of skepticism became general and in[ vaded even the church, and everything 1 seemed to converge upon and conspire to1 ward a single point, until nothing could 1 withstand the conjunction of forces which [ worked to free the human mind from bond[ age and the human spirit from tbralldom. ; Suffice it to say in closing that the greatj est blessings we now possess, the sanctity | of our homes, our personal security and ri'nlif fn rnnl'P tllP mOSt of ourselves, has been secured to us as the j result of that world-long struggle for religious liberty. The freedom of the press, t the right of every man to worship God in ; his own way. the democratic principles of ; government, the right of a man as such, > regardless of his place or position in the [ social scale or of his worldly possessions, and the demand for absolute justice for all ' men. equallv irrespective of race, sex or condition of life?these and many of the great princinles now taking front rank among the objects devotedly to be sought , in tlie twentieth century have been made | possible to us by the Reformation. ] Beginning with the struggle for religious < liberty, it ran on to compass the liberty of the whole man and was destined not to i stop until he wyi every whit free. It has i r?l~oo fU/s 1iV?orrv of POI1- ] science, the right of private judgment, po, litical and personal freedom. But the end , is not vet, and what it shall be no man knoweth. But as great and good men as ever fought in any cause fight still in these , ranks, which are constantly increasing in | numbers, in power and in resoluteness. Be Cheerful, By endSring a hardship cheerfully, or by accepting discomfort without a murmur, ( we may be of more real service to our fel- j lows than by performing acts of ministry a while wc appear to begrudge the required jeffort, or while we ourselves are in an un- c loving mood. The way in which we do our f most generous deeds is sometimes of as 0 much importance as the deeds themselves. e Many a cb'!d or man has been made more j glad by tue pleasant looks and words of v one who had to refuse a requested favor e than by the reception of a desired favor from one who gave it with a sneer or a frown. The importance of the right way of'doing good, in the line of giving or of withholding, should not be forgotten or undtrval; oil. CharJe* Burrton says, in this I L'i.t. "Von h:sv?_ not fu!;i!!ed every duty im'c'ifS ysui have fuliilled the duty of being h I j?'ta-i-.i:t." How dees that apply to our j " J seivict ol to-day? THE SUNDAY SCHOOL i INTERNATIONAL LESS< >N COMMENTS FOR JULY 12 Subject: Saul Chosen Kiiijr, 1 Sam. x? IT 87?Golden Text, Its. ixxlll., 22?Memory Verses, 34, 25?Rcjad Chapters Jx~ x.?Commentary on tt e Day's Lesson. I. Samuel's introductoiy discourse (vs. 17-19). 17. "Samuel." In this lesson th< prophet-judge appears in a unique attitude as one who assists in the : evolution which is to take from himself th< supreme powei and bestow it upon anot ler. What unselfish and noble conduct! Though evidently much pained, yet, 4t the command of God, he sank all personal feelings and set himself to the work of finding the best man for a king. And after Saul was chosen Samuel proved his best and most faithful friend and adviser. Most men would have wished the experiment to fail: Samuel did his best to make it successful. "Called the people." The assembly was evidently partly represents tive, made up of elders and heads of tribes; and partly popular, many of the people being present, encamped, and to some extent armed. "Unto the Lord." This expression does not necessarily imply that the ark was present. Samuel publicly invokes the Divine presence ana blessing and has everything done as in the presence of Jehovah. "To Mizpeh." The location is uncertain, but is supposed to be a high hill not far from Ramah, Samuel's home. Several other important meetings were held at Mizpeh. 18. "And said." Samuel first points out to the assembled people that Jehovah had always done for them the very thing for which they desired a king. He haa delivered them from all kingdoms that had oppressed them. But this deliverance had been made to depend upon their own conduct; they were always reauired to repent of sin and purge the laria from idolatry before victory could be theirs. What they wanted now was national independence, freed from this condition, and secured by an organization of their military resources. Samuel's discourse sets before them in a vigorous style the mighty deeds which God had done for them. 19. "Rejected." Samuel charged them with ingratitude and unfaithfulness, as expressed in the demand for a king. God. in the character of a king, had governed the Israelites for 400 years. He ruled on terms which He Himself, through the agency of Moses, had proposed to them, viz., that if they observed their allegiance to Him, they should be prosperous: if not adversity and misery shoula be tne consequence. We learn from the whole book of JudgeB. and from the first eight chapters of Samuel, how exactly the result, from Joshua to Samuel, agreed with these conditions. God had always faithfully kept the promises made them. "Set a king." Their fault consisted not in the simple desire for a king, but in the contempt they manifested for Jehovah. They were not satisfied with God, but desired a visible king, clothed in purple robes, with his guards and officers, who should rule with great pomp like the nations around them. "Present yourselves." Arrange yourselves in systematic order for the casting of the lot. "By your tribes." Represented bv twelve princes. "Your thousands." This means the same as families. The number of heads of houses in the several families of a tribe might easily V - il. J c 1 r\ao tr. reilCU U luuueauu. uumuui nuvn lui I^vv, ishnesa of that people, and that there were those who would not be satisfied with the choice, if it depended on hia single testimony, but bv this method the people would see that God had appointed Saul, for "the disposal of the lot was with the Lord." This would prevent disputes. II. Saul chosen king (vs. 20, 21). 20. 21. "Benjamin was taken " We are not told expressly by what process the selection was made, but it was probably by casting lots, 'ihe lot was in common use among all nations of antiquity. It is regarded in Scripture, not as a chance decision, but as a legitimate method of'ascertaining the Divine will. The lot among the tribes fell on the tribe of Benjamin which was the smallest of the tribes. "Family of Matri." The heads of the tribe of Benjamin next appeared and the family of Matri was taken. The successive Bteps are then passed over. At last Saul of the household of Kish was taken. "Could not be found." "He withdrew in hopes they would proceed to a new election, we may suppose that at this time he was really averse to taking upon himself the government, because, J. He was conscious of unfitness for so great a trust. 2. It would expose him to the envy of his neighbors. 3. He understood that the people had sinned in asking a king. 4. The affairs of Israel were at this time in a bad condition." III. Saul declared king (vs. 22-27). 22. 23. "Is there yet a man. They inquired whether Saul was present or was to be sought for elsewhere. "Among the stuff." The baggage which was usually placed in the centre of the camp. "Ran, etc." There appears to be have oeen much haste and excitement. "Higher than any." Saul was tall and commanding in person. It is supEosed that he was at least seven feet in eight. It was an age when leaders stood in the forefront of the battle, and a giant would strike terror to his foes. 2?. 25. "See ye him." Saul's distinguished stature and great strength helped much to recommend him to the people. There was none like him in majesty of appearance, and he became popular instantly. 'The Lord hath chosen. But God had, in this, yielded to their demands against His own will and wisdom. "Manner of the kingdom." The constitution -uu mwa of the new government, with the respective duties of king and people towards each other and towards God. _ ''Wrote it." j "That is, the charter of this constitutional monarchy was recorded and deposited in the custody of the priests, along with the most sacred records of the nation." 26, 27. "Saul?went home." To his fa- I ther's hause. Saul modestly left the pub- I lie affairs for Samuel to manage, is he had been doing. There appeared no peat desire to rule, in Saul. Such a humble spirit" as this, when he was advanced to 6uch a hieh position, appears beautiful. He was humble, for Goa waa with him then. "Went with him." Not the whole company, but a few select friends, perhaps, or those who regarded it a conscientious duty to escort their new king to his home. "Hearts?touched." Such as were move? j by him to do their duty and recognize the authority of Saul. These were the subjects who would help to have a peaceable reign, and would be loyal subjects. "Chil- I dren of Belial." Those who were wicked, profligate and not disposed to be controlled. "Despised him." Did not recognize him, but only scorned his manner, and doubted his ability. "No presents." They gave no proofs that they acknowledged either the Divine appointment, or his authority. "Held its peace." Having no ambition for the position, he quietly submits to their offense, and thus prevents all occasion for uproars. So far from resenting this affront Saul seems not to notice it. A New Sjpri Lamp. A new iclea in that well-worked-over-field ?the electric sign lamp?has made its appearance under the name of "bvlo." The distinguishing feature of this lamt> is that irhile the sign is constantly flashing to attract attention the letters are ahravs readable. The si?n is never dark. Each lamp ha? a double filament of one candle power and tne otner is a oijj nianient 01 sight or sixteen candle power. The flashing mechanism is all contained within a amp base of the usual size. The advantage >f c fl&ehing sign can tlr.is be secured with>ut the expense of complicating wiring and l commutatinz device. Ralna or tireat City in Mexico. The ruins of a large city have been dissovered in a remote ]iart of the State of i^uebla, Mexico, by tranciseo Rodriguez, in archaeologist, who has just made a re>ort of his find to the Government. The ity contains large pyramids and extensive ortifications. It is situated in the midst >f a dense forest, and a large amount of xcavation will be necessary to learn its rue extern anu impun?ii?. tuuiun>siun rill be appointed by the Government to splore the ruins. An English Idol Factory, There is an idol factorv in Birmingham. !n<?land, which exports huge_quantities of Jols to Japan. China and Korea. Many lundreds of tons of metal are every year rorked into deities in this factory. . :,< :* ^ m ' THE BELIGIOUS LIFE READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR ; WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF.' t * * -<r0 Foem: In God'i SMpIng?WtiJ ZaccheUt Wm Truly Bleiied -Ha ( One of thfi Few Persons of Whose Salvation Positive Affirmation Is Made. \ I see not a step before me ir?, 1 As I approacn another year; I But the past is in God's keeping, I The future His mercy shall clear, And what looks dark in the distance May brighten as I draw near. y What Zaccheas's Story Teaches. ! ' If one of our politicians whose shady in: tegrity is an open Becret should one da.J happen to go abroad where some follower* of Jesus were holding an open-air service, and should idly stop and listen, and there in the press of the crowd should come face | to face with the Master, and should hear pith startled surprise the voice of hi* ' Lord speaking to him alone out of all that ' , j crowd?as many a heart does to-day feel the Lord's call?and should answer Him # J A???n -r %- ? : mm a ffutu tunu 01 joyrui welcome, ana i should come down surprised and willing | from his tree of curiosity to the actual taking of Jesus into his home and life, he : would be confronted with much such a problem as Zaccheus had to face. I In the first place, Zaocheus's business wa? against him. He was a publican. And a ; tax collector in those days was as shrewd and unscrupulous as any city ring. Districts were farmed out or sola to tne highest bidder, and everything that could be collected above the required amount for the government went into the pocket of the tax collector. The temptation, therefore, to extortion was almost irresistible. ! All appeals had to be made to the Roman' I courts. The publicans had the backing of. ! the government. Circumstances laid a bari rier wide and high across the path of honi T^heft the standard of right and wrong in his business world was lamentably low. I If a publican cheated a man he quieted his ! conscience by assuring himself that it wa? I .11 4_ .1 - -c v?; nr. 1.-1?J ; on iu biic vvo) ui uuomcBD. TTC arc ncipeu i or hindered more than we know by the i moral atmosphere that we breathe. It it | & tearfully hard thing for a man to be good : when he knows that everybody sets aim down as a rascal. Zaccheus had no repn* tation to sustain. He was not expected to be a good man, an honest man or a i Christian.' | Yet Zaccheus had heard the Saviour** i call and his own heart war. set vibrating with an answering welcome. The clear light of the eyes of the only Perfect Mux shone into his, and he saw his own life in all its deformity of sin. Instantly a new honesty is born within him. He does not hasten into his rooms ahead of the Master to hide ajl traces of his business, homing . thus to escape censure for his wrongdoing,but at the very threshold, before the Lord 1 enters, he confesses his own shaky character and at once promises a new order of things. Zaccheus's surrender of himself is entire. He withholds no corner of hi? ^, heart for himself and his future occupation. It is all given up to his new guest. And it is not only "to-day" one feels sure that Jesus abode with Zaccheus, but all the rest of the days of his life. T1 J ?A. I -L iicic aic uicu anil >v urncu ivua/ w whom Jesus offers His friendship jut as freely as He offered it to Zaccneua that day?braving public opinion which said that a Jew should not visit nos eat with . a publican and sinner?to whom He would come as freely, but they have not Zac- -'! cheus's answering chord of welcome . in their hearts when they hear the unexpected call. Some of them are afraid to get up into the sycamore tree even for fcuri- osity'a sake, lest they will be laughed, at. .is Zaccheus was seeking Jesus just oat Of j curiosity, to see what He was like, bat even so much of a turning toward Him ' ;'M | God honors. Jesus met this seeking by '-|? looking straight up into his face ana of- M I fering him a personal friendship. It is ' but another proof of the promise, "If ye ; seek Him He will be found of thee." ";MH There is something for usito note here, j if we arc trying to walk in Jesus's foot* | steps and win back some soul to Him?- ? j Jesus offered the man His friendship at -.jW once, rich and full and free. He did- not | speak of his sin, but said, "Come down> JiSfor I am eoine home with yon." . "To ray house? - What! Me, a 6inner!" might any Zaccheus exclaim. "Yea," yon, if you will have Him. If Zaccheus had been sick I presume-.'a there were those among his Jewish friends, <:'Ja even among his Pharisee neighbors, who' #jja would have gone for the doctor. If he had ji*| been a beggar they would have thrown him some money or some food., But gone to his house, not much! They would not have lost an opportunity to talk to bin* about his sin, but they would have had' ! nothing to do with him. We sometimes | make that mistake. We try to reach the. yi sinner before we recognize the man. And' one touch of Jeeus's hand opened the man'#' heart and made him eager *to put away his sin. Mark this: It was before Zaccheus made any offer of restitution that Jesus told him He would go home with him. Zaccheus is one of the few persons of whose salvation positive affirmation is made. "This day is salvation come to this house." That Was Zaccheus's blessing. This lesson throbs with the meaning of r j Christ's lifework. to seek and save the lost. They must be saved, for Jesus lovea ' . j them.?Grace Livingston Hill, in the New. York Mail and Express. Dotnr More Than ! KxomM of Us. f' Christ laid on Hie followers the duty of doing mbre than their share. He took upon Himpelf the same duty. He alwaya JL went more than half wav to meet a soul V" that would meet Him. We are too apt to think we are doing well if we consent to M do our share: the Christian spirit is a t. readiness to do all we can, even if it ia more than our share. If a man wonld have us go with him a mile, go with him ' twain; if our share would be to give hin our coat in his day of great need, give him , our cloak also. That is what Christ set -m forth as the divine sDirit. In the same manner, the Apbstle Paul wrote, saying:' "Unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or thin^, J . . . unto him be thejrlory in the church ? and in Christ Jesus." That is the way we . .1 have been ministered unto?good measure, J pressed down and running over. So let n? minister unto others. Be Sincere With God. God enjoys flattery as little as men do. The Psalmist laid that truth on our heart? when he said, "Sing ye praises with understanding." We despise folks who are smootn ana pleasant to our iace ana wen say bitter things behind our back._ W? I dislike their praise even, because it is in sincere. But -what else is it when we praise Qod loudly in the church, and are grumblers in our home or business? It i? good to make a joyful noise unto the Lord; But it is necessary, if we do that, that we ? also live a joyful life before the Lord. jfe' Faith Isliiinitleat. . a ? My faith is that there is a far greattt ? amount of revelation given to guide eaca V man by the principles laid down in the Bible, by conscience and by providence, J than most men are aware of. It is not the . light which i? defective, it is an eye to see it.?Norman Macleod. \ 1 The Most Pernldooa Influence. A bad man can do an immense amount of harm by simply doint bad things. A bad man, with bad motives, doing what seems to be good, is the most pernicious and degrading influeno; that I know of.?The j.vev. R. L. Paddock. The Ti?d Sea in Central Africa. French explorers report that the Tsad Sea in Central Africa, of which very little . has been known thus far. is about 240 | miles in length and about eighty-two miles I in width. The lake is not very deep: to j the west about twenty-eight feet, and to I the east scarcely six feet. There are about 8 eighty small islands in the lake which are I inKtWt.J ???? CXI flAA naKl'M r "*uwi.'HVU VJ OVU1C */VjWV - - T . r No Termination Ialand. Jj The Gauss expedition to the Antarctic .m has dispelled the tradition about the exist- jf ence of Termination Island. The Gauss II passed over the alleged site of the island. The greatest cold experienced was seventy- Hj six degrees below zero, Fahrenheit. H