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CHAPTER x. HE count ordered 'all preparations consistent with the resources of the chateau to be made )st for the approach i t.- t . . . ing weuaing, anu flattered himself that he was very diplomatic in talk lng confidently be fore the servants, of the series of festivities which should follow that event. He affected an air of the utmost security, and laid out a score of Improvements to be made In the garden, at a period when he meant to be safely landed on a foreign shore. And every few hours he exchanged a knowing nod with M. Pierre, as if glorying over his wise sagacity. In these preparations, of course, the ab sence of the most valuable service of silver was discovered, but the wily M Pierre had forestalled the need of ex planation by Informing his credulous master that he bad taken the precau lion, In consideration of the disturb ancesin other places, to secrete It, and that it should be ready for him at the wedding festival, unless he preferred to have It snugly packed for transport ation to the fishing sloop, which last idea the count eagerly seconded. He rode over to Frejus to find "some one to perform the ceremony, and on the way thither met a bishop coming to him for protection. He had left Paris expecting to find a relative at Frejus, but every one who held the slightest claim to aristocracy had fled from Parle. The count received him warmly, and carried him back to the chateau in trl umph. Now everything was prepared, only waiting for the bridegroom to be able td perform his share of the cere mony. M. Pierre was ostensibly most active in carrying forward the prepara tions, but the countess shuddered every time she met his eye. The bishop's presence. gave the ladles more excuse for lingering in their own rooms; and It also seemed an opportunity to vlBlt the Little Forest. Therefore, that very evening they stole forth cautiously and went speeding along toward the hollow tree. Before they reached the edge of the wood the form of Emlle started up from the hedge which bordered the meadow. He spoke their names eager ly, and dispersed the momentary terror which his sudden appearance had Caused. "Thank Heaven you have come! was trying to conjure up an opportu nity for speaking with you. How pro ceed matters at the chateau?" "Illy enough, I fear, though the iount fancies everything favorable," answered the countess. "And the overseer?" "He Is there still. The count trusts . him implicitly, and has confided to him all his plans of escape." - "Mon Dieu! is the man demented?" 1 "He will not listen to our remon strances," answered Felicie, while her mother kept silence '"Have you told him what you heard?" "No; though we assured him that we had proof of his treachery. He declared he should go to M.Pierre with our accu sations, and we dared not reveal all without first consulting you." i "That was . prudent," said mile, while between his teeth he muttered, "Dolt! idiot! brute! the man does not deserve to live." And in a moment he added gravely, "It would be the ex tinguishment of your best hopes of es cape to reveal my presence here, or the locality of the retreat I have provided. I half expected to find you gone; and I fervently hoped it might be so." "We waited for the Marquis Ed ward." , "And he arrived two nights ago. Why were you not away before this? Every hour is of priceless value." The countess sighed heavily. "He is ill; we are only waiting for his recovery; then the marriage is to take place, and we are to ride directly to the wharf at St. Josephs." j "I wish I knew their plans better; not a soul has entered the woods since I came, and the pikes have been re moved. I lost the precious opportunity V my long absence." ; "Ah," cried Felicie, "we looked for you so anxiously. We grew so troubled about you." I "I could not come. I have learned a bitter lesson In my absence. I, who held them to my sway before, have found the tide so swollen that it bore me along like a feather. I lifted up my voice for freedom, equality, manhood did I know they would Interpret it law lessnees, demoralization, brutality? Alack! one cannot play with fire ex cept to be scorched. My heart ha? died within me to witness the horrors which reign triumphant, conscious, as I am, that I helped to nurse the spark which has become such a madly de vouring element. There is but one course left me; I must secretly aid all who come within, reach of my helping hands." ' "You counsel ua to refrain from men tioning the adventure In the woods that night?" questioned the countess, anx ious to return as speedily as possible. 1 "I certainly do, if it Is to be retailed at once to the arch villain, Pierre. Be sides, it Is too late now. Pierre is aware of your movements., I wish I were cer tain of bis. I must go to Frejus and hunt up a few trusty comrades; by their means I may learn more. But it will be prudent for you to accompany me to the tree and learn how to man age the spring which opens the Jagged Coor of the tree-trunk. Then If ion can reach It you will be safe, whatever happens to me." "Let us go now; we may have no other opportunity," said Felicie. ' They proceeded thither in silence. The countess seemed greatly fatigued and sat down on the ground, while Emlle carefully initiated her daughter into the mysteries of the spring cun nlngly filed Into a round excrescence of the bark. Lady Felicie practiced upon it until able to, open it instantaneously "Now let us hasten back," said the countess, shivering with the chilly night air. Just as she turned, she paused sud denly, and, extending her hand, said, with grave, solemn sweetness: "Htdven bless you, Emlle, and re ward you for all your devotion." He held her hand in his Just a brief moment, then dropped it without word. The countess drew Fellcie's arm within hers and hurried away, nor cast a single backward glance. They were Just in season to escape detection, and had hardly removed their wrappers when the count burst in upon them. "To-morrow night, Felicie, my love!" exclaimed he. "The Marquis Edward improves rapidly, he declares himself convalescent, and insists that there be no further delay. So get out your fin ery to-morrow. He will not see you till you are dressed In your bridal gar ments. It's a pity the wedding must be such a paltry affair; but we'll cele brate it In worthy style when we return again to France. But be sure you look a little like a Languedoc. After all, the dress can be quite as pretty as If you had a dozen corbellles from Paris There's plenty of rich lae in the ward robe, and the diamonds will brighten all. I "want Edward to remember his bride as a charming picture, though there be no guests nor festival." "And you intend to proceed at once to the vessel?" asked the countess. "Yes, Immediately." . ' "Grant me this favor as a bridal gift, mon pere," exclaimed Felicie, the tears rushing to her eyes; "let M. Pi erre believe we are not to go until the night aftw." "Foolish child! are those tears?" "I am so terribly- afraid of that man. mon pere: promise, I beseech you!" "Why not? I will not mention an other word to him are you content? Once safely at sea, we shall forget all these horrors." "Thank you, oh, thank you, papa, it Is such a relief." He did not disclose the fact that he had Just come from M. Pierre and had discussed the whole arrangement free ly. And so, believing M. Pierre in lg' norance, and conscious of Emile's vi cinity, mother and daughter slept peacefully through the night. CHAPTER XI. f .L, THULIUM appar ently very quiet, the next day was really a busy and anxious one at the chateau. . Edward was up and dressed in clothes fur bished up from the well stocked ward robes, quite early in the day; but he preferred not to see his bride until the marriage vows were exchanged on the ostensible plea of reserving all his strength free from excitement, but in reality from a disinclination he could not overcome. The countess, herself, dressed her daughter in the fleecy white robes, nor would allow another hand to touch a single fold. She lin gered fondly over the task, reluctant to finish, and even Felicie was obliged to say, with a blush and a smile: "There, there, mamma! I am sure it Is all complete now you could not bo more particular if, there were a thousand guests to behold me!" But the countess smoothed a wave of hair here, brushed out a tumbled flounce, readjusted each spray of the orange crown, and finally removed the liamond ornaments 'entirely and re- ), laced them with her own rich set of illlky pearls. " "My father will not approve!" whis pered Felicie. "For this once, no matter; he will not have time to allude to it. The pcarU are so much 'prettier. Now Is my darling a fairy looking bride, In deed. Surely Edward will open his heart to her at once." "Ah, it Is for him you are so fastid iously particular tonight. I had for gotten, almost,, what It meant for me, this wedding I only' have rejoiced be cause it was the gateway for our es cape from this wearing life of sus pense." "Wearing, Indeed!" reiterated the countess, and putting her hand hastily to her side, she turned deathly pale. Felicie sprang forward in alarm. "What is it-, my mother? are you faint? arepu ill?" "No, no, it is nothing, it will pass in a moment" And as she had said, the spasm passed away in a few moments. . The daughter was scarcely reassured, when the count's voice was heard at the door. "Come, loiterers, we are waiting for you." The countess seized Fellcie's hand, an bent forward to press a solemn kiss upon her lips. "The Holy One forever bless my good and worthy daughter!" The deep pathos of the tones brought the tearf to her eyes, but there wu no time to give answer, for the count unclosed the door, and led her fa I from the room down the staircase, where a few of the servants stood to look at the bride and wish her happi ness. . The countess followed them. What a strange, dismal bridal it seemed! .the silent house, the anxious faces, the secret uneasiness of all par ties hardly concealed beneath the mask of smlleB. As the bride entered the little ora tory, the bishop came forward to meet her. With a fluttering color on her cheek Felicie glanced around In search of the bridegroom. She. saw a slender figure at the window, but M. Pierre s square shoulders concealed his face. Edward had been sitting by the win dow, and he had not turned his head, yet, to take his first' view of his affl anced wife; when suddenly M. Pierre blew a shrill blast upon a whistle he had been holding nervously in his hand. A dozen wild faces leaped up at ev ery window, brawny fists dashed the glass into fragments, while the burly figures leaped in upon them from all sides. Edward was felled to the floor by the first blow. With a wild cry of terror, the count turned to his trusted overseer. The villain smiled grimly and drew a pistol. One brief instant was It given to the wicked man to real ize his own folly and his servant's treachery, the next he fell a corpse at the feet of his daughter. Fellcie's wild shriek rang through the room. She strove to reach her mother, ere a brutal arm with its up lifted pike should fall saw the be loved form suddenly sink back and her self sank fainting to the floor. Re viving, she was conscious of a fierce affray going on at the chateau, and Bhe herself lying amidst the cold corpses of her friends. . She crept has tily as her weakness would allow to her mother's side, and anxiously lis tened for a throb of breathing at her lifeless heart. All in vain. And yet. there was no.slgn of a blow or wound. Remembering how she had fallen ere the pike descended, the poor child had a dismal comfort in believing her heart had broken at the sudden shock. Suddenly now came the remem brance of her own hapless condition, and the danger of M. Pierre's return with those brutal ruffians. The new thought gave her strength. Hastily disengaging a black cloak from the shoulders of the murdered bishop, she wrapped it over her white robes, leaped hastily through a broken window, and darted like a frightened fawn past a man pacing to and fro, as if guarding against the approach of Mend aud foe. She knew he saw her, and in a moment heard his plunging steps fol lowing. But terror and despair gave her fleetness. She knew the path well and though every now and then her lace flounces caught upon br!er and bush, she tore them off with frantic hands, and went leaping forward. She stumbled twice and fell headlong but sprang up again like a Aeer, and at length gained the wood. ' It was eas ier to elude him here; she darted in and out among the trees, until she was sure her dread pursuer had lost the track. She heard his muttered curses as he blundered around, and lightly as a fairy she flew on to the blessed relief at hand. , She gained the . tree, pressed the spring with desperate hand, and rushed In. A cold chill sank upon her heart; it was empty. Where, oh, where, was Emile? Was there no friend left her? She sank shivering upon the earthy floor, and buried her head in her hands. She could not think over, then, all the anguish that had fallen upon her the terrible bereavement of the past hour; parents, bridegroom, home and friends, all stricken from the hand that seemed to hold them so securely. Her brain whirled, a terrible sickening fear took possession of her that M. Pierre would find out her retreat, or drag her forth, or that Emile was killed also, and she should perish there of starvation. These . absorbed, every faculty, and crouching and listening, she survived two hours of almost intolerable agony. Another hour would have turned her brain; before its expiration, a rapid step came bounding to the tree, the door was flung open, and Emile's voice cried frantically: "Lady Felicie, Lady Felicicr: are you here?" (to na coN-riNURn. Dlnpoftal of Sewage in Birmingham. .One of the worst features under the old management was The disposal of the sewage. By way of remedy two sys tems have found adoption. . Under one the health committee collects the of fal of the houses, aud either destroys it or turns it Into fertilizers. This is more, offensive and less successful than it might be made, but is appar ently a necessity until the pan system has been abandoned. A sewage farm of nearly 1,300 acres has been devel oped several, miles from the city, some 400 feet lower in elevation. The sew age, first mixed with lime to prevent too rapid decomposition and to assist in the precipitation of the solid mat ter, is passed through a series of de positing tanks, during which process the mud is removed. The remainder is dug into the land, one-third of which Is dealt with each:year, the ef fluent being discharged in a harmless state Into, the river Tame. Upon the other two-thirds are grown early vege tables, and grain and hay for cows kept for milk and market. The net annual cost to the city is about 24, 000. "An Object Lesson in Municipal Government," by George F. Parker, is. the November Century. Bankrupt British Peer. A peer who becomes bankrupt is dis qualified from sitting in the house of lords. "Folks dat U alius lookln' fob trouble," Baid Uncle Eben, "nab Jes one t'lng ter brag erbout Dey doan' hard ly eber git disapp'inted.'.' Washlngtop Star. t TA IMAGE'S SEIIMON', "A KINO EATING GRASS" SUN . DAY'S SUBJECT. From the Text "And Ho Wait Driven from Men and Bid liat Gntit hi Oxen, and Hit Body Vfai Wot With Pew from Heaven." Dauiol 4:33. ETTER shade your eyes lest they be put out with the splendor of Baby lon, as some morn ing you walk out with Nebuchadnez zar on the suspen sion bridges which hang from the housetops, and ho shows you the vast- ness of his realm. As the sun klndlea the domes with glisterlngs almost in sufferable, and the great streets thun der up their pomp into the ear of the monarch, and armed towers stand around, adorned with the spoils of conquered empires, Nebuchadnezzar waves his hand above the stupendous sbene and exclaims: "Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power, and for the honor of my majesty?" But In an instant all that splendor is gone from his vision, for a voice falls from the heaven, saying, "O King Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it is spoken: The kingdom is departed from thee; and they shall drive thee from men, and thy dwelling shall be with the beasts of the field; they shall make thee to eat grass as oxen, and seven years shall pass over thee, until thou know that the Most High ruleth in the. kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever, he will." One hour from the time that he made the boast he is on the way to the fields, a maniac, and rushing into the forests he becomes one of the beasts, covered with eagles' feathers for protection from the cold, and his nails growing to birds' claws in order that he might dig the earth for roots and climb the trees for nuts. You see there is a great variety, in the Scriptural landscape. In several discourses we have looked at moun tains of excellence, but now we look down into a great, dark chasm of wick edness as we come to speak of Nebuch adnezzar. God in His Word sets before us the beauty of self-denial, of sobriety, of devotion, of courage, and then, lest we should not thoroughly understand him, he introduced Daniel and Paul, and Deborah, as illustrations of those virtues. God also speaks to us in His Word as to the hatefulnes3 of pride, of folly, of impiety, and lest we should not thoroughly understand him, intro duces Nebuchadnezzar as the imper sonation of these forms of depravity. The former style of character Is a lighthouse, showing U3 a way into a safe harbor, and the latter style of character is a black buoy, swinging on the rocks, to show, where vessels wreck themselves. Thanks unto God for both the buoy and the lighthouse! The host of Nebuchadnezzar is thundering at the gates of Jerusalem. The crown of that sacred city is struck into the dust by the hand of Babylonish insolence. The vessels of the temple, which had never been desecrated by profane touch, were ruthlessly seized for sacrilege and transportation. Oh, what a sad hour when those Jews, at the command of the invading army, are obliged to leave the home of their nativity! How their hearts must have "been wrung with anguish, when, on the day they depart ed, they heard the trumpets from the top of the Temple announcing the hour for morning sacrifice and saw the smoke of the altars ascending around the holy hill of Zion, for well they knew that in a far distant land they would never hear that trumpet call, nor behold the majestic ascent of the sacrifice. Behold those captives on the road from Jerusalem to Babylon! Worn and weary, they did not dare halt, for roundabout are armed men, urging them on with hoot, and shout, and blas phemy. Aged men tottered along on their staves, weeping that they could not lay their bones in the sleeping place of their fathers, and children wondered at the length of the way and sobbed themselves to sleep when the night had fallen. It seemed as if at every step a heart broke. But at a turn of the road Babylon suddenly springs upon the view of .the captives, with its gardens and palaces. A shoult goes up from the army as they behold their native city, but. not one huzza is heard from the captives. These exiles saw no splendor there, for it was not home. The Euphrates did not have the water gleam of the brook Kedron or the pool of Siloam. The willows of Babylon, on which they hung their untuned harps, were not as graceful as the trees which at the foot of Mount Moriah seemed to weep at the departed glory of Judah, and all the fragrance that descended from the hanging-gardens upon. that great city was not so sweet as one breath of the acacia and frankincense that the high priest- kindled in the sanctuary at Jerusalem. ' On a certain night, a little while af ter these captives had been brought to his city, Nebuchadnezzar is scared with night vlaioL. A bad man's pillow Is apt to be stuffed with deeds and fore-, bodings which - keep . talking in the night , He will , find that the eagles' down in hit pillow' will stick him Ilk porcupine quills. The ghosts of old transgressions are sure to wander about in the darkness and beckon and hiss. Yet when the morning came he found that the vision had entirely fled from him. Dreams drop no anchors, and therefore are apt to sail away be fore we can fasten them. Nebuchad nezzar calls all the wise men of the land into his presence, demanding that by their necromancy they explain his dream. They, of course, fail. Then their wrathful king issues an edict with as little sense as mercy, ordering the slaying of all the learned men of J ,the country. But Daniel the prophet comes in with the interpretation Just in -time to save the wise men and the Jewish captives. My friends, do you not see that pride and ruin ride in the same saddle? See Nebuchadnezzar on the proudest throne of all the earth, and then see him graze with the sheep and the cat tle! Pride is commander, well plumed nd caparisoned, but it leads forth a dark and frowning host. The arrows from the Almighty's quiver are apt to strike a man when on the wing. Go liath shakes his great spear in defi ance, but the smooth stones from the brook make him stagger and fall liks an ox under the butcher's bludgeon. He who Is down cannot fall. Vessels scudding under the bare poles do not feel the force of the storm, while those with all sails set capsize at the sudden descent of the tempest. Remember that we can be as proud of our humility as of anything else. Antlsthenes walked the streets of Athens with a ragged cloak to demon strate his humility, but Socrates de clared he could see the hypocrisy through the holes In his cloak. We vould all see ourselves smaller than we are if we were as philosophic as Severus, the emperor of Rome, who said at the close of his life: "I have been everything, and everything is nothing." And when the urn that was to contain his ashes was, at his com mend, brought to him, he said: "Lit tle urn, thou shalt contain one for whom the world was too little." Do you not also learn from the mis fortune of the king of Babylon what a terrible thing is the loss of reason. There Is no calamity that can possibly befall us in this world so great as de rangement of intellect; to have the body of man, and yet to fall even below the instinct of a brute. In this world of horrible sights, the most horrible is the idiot's stare. In this world of hor rible sounds, the most horrible is the maniac's laugh. A vessel driven on the rocks, when hundreds go down never to rise, and other hundreds drag their mangled and shivering bodies upon the wlrter's beach, Is nothing compared to the foundering of intel lects full of vast hopes and attain ments and capacities. Christ's heart went out toward those who were epi leptic, falling into the fire, or maniacs cutting themselves among the tombs. Wfc are accustomed to be more grate ful for physical health than for the proper working of our mind. We are .apt to take it for granted that the in tellect which has served us so well will always De faithful. We forget that an engine of such tremendous power, where the wheels have such vastness of circle and such swiftness of motion, and the least impediment might put it out of gear, can only be kept In proper balance by a Divine hand. No human hand could engineer the train of immortal faculties. How strange it is that our memory, on whose shoulders all the misfortunes and successes and occurrences of a life time are placed, should not oftener break down, and that the scales of judgment, which have been weighing so much and so long, should not lose their adjustment, and that fancy, for the attainment of its objects, should not sometimes maliciously wave it, bringing into the heart forebodings and hallucinations the most appalling! Is It not strange that this mind, which hopes so much in its mighty leaps for the attainment of its objects, should not be dashed to pieces on its disap pointments? Though so delicately tuned, this Instrument of untold har mony plays on though fear shakes it and vexations rack It and sorrow and joy and loss and gain in quick sue cession beat out ol it' their dirge or toss from it their anthem. At morning and at night, when in your prayer you rehearse the causes of your thanksgiv lng, next to the salvation by Jesus Christ, praise the Lord for the preser vation of your reason. See also in this story of Nebuchad nezzar the use God makes of bad men. The actions of the wicked are used as instruments for the punishment of wickedness in others or as the illus tration of some principle in the Divine government. Nebuchadnezzar sub served both purposes. Even so I will go back with you to the history of every reprobate that the world has ever seen, and I will show you how to a great extent his wickedness was limited in its destructive power, and how God. glorified himself, in the overflow and disgrace of his enemy. Babylon is full of abomination, and wicked Cyrus de stroys it. Persia fills the cup of its iniquity, and vile Alexander puts an end to it. Macedon must be chastised, and bloody Emillus does it. The Bas tile is to be destroyed and corrupt Napoleon accomDlishes it. Even so selfish and wicked men are often made to accomplish great and glorious pur poses. Joseph's brethren were guilty of superlative perfidy and meanness when they sold him into slavery for about sever, dollars, yet how they must have been overwhelmed with the truth that God never forsakis the righteous when they saw that he bad become the prime minister of Egypt! Pharaoh op presses the Israelites with the most diabolical tyranny; yet stand still and see the salvation of God. The plagues descend, the locusts, the hail and the destroying angel, showing that there Is a God who will defend the cause of his people, and finally, after the Israel ites have passed through the parted sea, behold. In the . wreck of the drowned army, that God's enemies are chaff in a whirlwind! In some finan cial panic the righteous suffered with the wicked. Houses and stores and shops in a night foundered on the rock of bankruptcy, and healthy credit without warning dropped dead In the street, and money ran up the long lad der of twenty-five per cent to laugh down upon those who could not climb after it. Dealers with pockets full of BCVUl JllCO DIWNL BUWUfcAUQ VUJ UVBi ears of banks. Men rushed down the streets with protested cotes after them. Those who before found it hard to l spend their money wero left without money to spend. Laborers went Home for want of work, to see hunger In &elr chair at tho table and upon the htjth. Winter blew hiB breath of frost through fingers of Icicles, and sheriffs with attachments dug among the clndcra of fallen storehouses, and whole cities Joined in the long funeral procession, marching to the grave of dead fortunes and a fallen commerce. Verily, the righteous suffered with the wicked, but generally the wicked had the worst of It. Splendid estates that had come together through schemes of wicked ness were dashed to pieces like a pot ter's vessel, and God wrote with letters of fire, amid the ruin and destruction cf reputations and systems that were thought impregnable, the old-fashioned truth, which centuries ago he wrote in His Bible, "The way of the wicked ho turneth upside down." As the stars of heaven are reflected from the waters of the earth, even so God's great and mag nificent purposes are reflected back from the boiling sea of human passion and turmoil. As the voice of a sweet song uttered among the mountains may be ottered back from the cavernous home of wild beast and rocks split and thunder-scarred, so tho great harmonies of God's providence are rung back from the darkest caverns of this sin-struck earth. Sennacherib, and Ablraelech, and Herod, and Judas, and Nero, and Nebuchadnezzar, though they struggled like beasts unbroken to the load, were put into a yoke, where they were com pelled to help draw ahead God's great projects of mercy. Again, let us learn th6 lesson that men can be guilty of polluting the sacred vessels of the temple and carry ing them away to Babylon. The sacred vessels in the temple at Jerusalem were the cups and plates of gold and Fllver with which the rites and cere monies were celebrated. The laying of heathen hands upon them and the car rying them off as spoils was an un bounded offense to tho Lord of the temple. Yet Nebuchadnezzar committed this very sacrilege. Though that wick ed king is gone, the sins he Inaugurat ed walk up and down the earth, curs ing it from century to century. The sin of desecrating sacred things is com mitted by those who on sacramental day take the communion cup, while their conversation and actions all show that they live down in Babylon. How solemn is the sacrament! It is a time for vows, a time for repentance, a time for faith. Sinai stands near, with its fire split clouds, and Calvary, with its Victim. The Holy Spirit broods over the scene, and the Rlory of heaven seems to gather in the sanctuary. Vile indeed must that man be who comes in from his idols and unrepented foI'Je3 to take hold of the sacred vessels of the temple. O, thou Nebuchadnezzar! Back with you to Babylon! He who breaks the Sabbath not more certainly robs God than robs himself. Inevitably, continuous desecration of the sacred day ends either in bank ruptcy or destroyed health. A great merchant said, "Had it not been for the Sabbath I have no doubt I should have been a maniac long ago." This remark was made in a company of mer chants, and one of them said, "That corresponds with the experience of my friend, a great importer. He often said, 'The Sabbath is the best day of the week to plan successful voyages. He has for years been in an insane hos pital, and will probably die there." . Those also repeat the sin of Neb uchadnezzar who in any way desecrate the Holy Scriptures. There are men who use the Word of God a3 instrument of angry controversy. Bigots at heart, and zealots in the advocacy of their religious peculiarities, they meet other sects with the fury of a highwayman, thrusting them through and through with what they consider the sword of the Spirit. It is a wonder to me that some men were not made with horns to hook 'with, and hoofs to kick with, and with claws to grab with. What Christ said to rash Peter, when he struck off the ear of Malchus, he says to every controversialist: "Put up again thy sword into its place; for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword." Rev. William Jay met a countryman who said to him, "I was extremely alarmed this morning, sir. It was very foggy and 1 was going down to a lonely place and I thought I saw a strange monster. It seemed in motion, but I could not discern its form. I did not like to turn back, but my heart beat; and the more I looked the more I was afraid. But as I approached, it was a man and who do you think it was?" "I know not." "Oh, it was my broth er John." Then Mr. Jay remarked, "It was early in the morning and very fog gy, and how often do we thus mistake our Christian brethren." Just in proportion as men are wrong will they be boisterous in their relig ious contentions. The Iamb of religion is always gentle, while there is no lion so fierce as tne roaring lion taat goes ftbout seeking whom he may devour. Let Glbraltars belch their war flame on the sea, and the Dardanelles darken the Hellespont with the smoke of their bat teries, but forever and ever let there be good will among those who profess to be the subjects of the Gospel of gen tleness. "Glory to God In the highest and cn earth peace, good will to men." What an embarrassing thing to meet in heaven if we have not settled our controversies on earth. So I give out for all people of all religions to sing, John Fawcett's hymn, in short metre, cunipoaed in 1772, but just as appro priate for 1897: Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts In Christian love. , The fellowship of kindred minds ' Is like to that above. From sorrow, toll and pain, And sin we shall be free. And perfect love and friendship reign Through all eternity. Nothing but faith in Christ can give a peace that the world cannot take away.