The diamond drill., August 28, 1897, Image 5

About The diamond drill. (Crystal Falls, Iron County, Mich.) 1887-1996

Image provided by: Central Michigan University, Clark Historical Library

                
UNCLE SILAS AND 4THE WORLD.
"What'i all thla thing aboutf says ha,
"Wall. I dunno," says I.
"What rood la all t hi worl' tome.
This Ian an sea an sky?
The lame ol thing! Olt up an' dress.
An' Mt an work like slr:
The n fo to bed, KU up an dress.
An at an' work ag'ln.
What's all thla thing about?" says he.
Bays I: "Can't tell y, John;
Cut as for me, I like to tee.
To se the thing go on.
There ain't no end to thla machine.
An wo man hereabout,
flo fur aa I have ever seen.
Can tell what It grinds out;
Ita belts are hitched to far-off gears.
Far off be-end the tun,
An' I've no doubt 'twill run for years
The way It alius run."
Tut what's tho thing about?" sars he;
Pays I: "Can't tell ye, John;
But as for me. I like to see.
To see tho thing go on."
'TIs day an' night an' night an' (fay,
Tho same oP thins," eays John.
"I guess It Is," nays I, "but say.
Let's watch tho thing on.
For all the grass an things that grow.
An stars, It seems to me.
Are Jest a free-for-nothln' show,
For us deadheads to see;
An' I ain't tired of. It ylt.
It's pretty mtddlln', John;
An' as for me, I like to see.
To see the thing go on.
1 Ilk to see the things, my friend,
'TIs healthy sport for man.
Though I can't tell you where 'twill end.
Nor where the thing began."
"What's all this thing about?" "Dunno;
'Tls fun enough for me
To Jest lay back an' see the show
An' wonder; yes, sir-eel
An so I guess that we are here,
An' that's our business, John,
To work an git ourselves in gear
To help the thing go on."
6am Walter Fobs. In N. T. Bun.
A- CASE IN EQUITY.
BY FRANCIS LYNDE.
Copyright, i89j. by J. B. Llpplncott Co.
XVI I L Contin Ced.
The manager crept back to his chair
again, and Sharpies sat down. "That
was a good joke of yurs, Mr. Thorn
dyke," he said, with nn unpleasant
mlle. "Of course you know that tho
orginal value of the land was next to
nothing."
"I don't care to argue that point or
any other. The question between ua U
simply this: will you pay me $100,000,
or shall I give you in charge for forg
ery?" While Thorndyko was speaking,
Sharpless was swaying gently back and
forth in tho pivot-chair, with his right
arm lying upon tho desk. In the little
interval of silence that followed, th-j
fingers of the idle hand sought tho knob
of & small drawer under tho pigeon
boles. When ho began to speak the
lawyer's voice was smooth and passion
less. "Let us assume, for the sake of
example, that what you say of us U
true; that we are the unscrupulous vu
lains that your indictment presup
poses." The hand on tho desk was me
chanically opening and closing the
drawer, and l'hilip saw a glint of
nickel-plating among the papers. As
Burning this, doesn't it strike you that
you are a little rash in coming here to
threaten us?" Tho Idling liana dropped
carelessly into the open drawer and lay
cuicKcent.
Philip Ignored the hypothetical
menace, and kept his eyes fixed upon
tho motionless hand.
"Violence Is always a dangerous
veaion, Mr. Sharpies," he said, quiet
lr. "and you will agree with me that
when It becomes necessary to employ
it, hesitation Ls not to bo too strongly
deprecated. I'll trouble you to closo
that drawer."
In the duel of words Sharpies had
been reflectively measuring . the dis
tance Wtwcen himself and the cost
pocket into which Philip had slipped
his hand at the beginning of the inter
view. The deductions were evidently
upon the side of prudence, for he shut
the drawer with a snap omuurneu away
from the desk.
"Golnar bock to the original question
your demand is unreasonable; ond If
it were not, there is not such an
amount as you name In all the banks
in the city."
"Probably not; and, in any event, 1
should prefer your draft on New York,
secured by a mortgage on all the prop
erty of the company In Chllmath
county.
"Oh, you would?" Sharpies waalos
Ing his self-control. "Perhaps you
think I own the property In fee simple
!You ought to know, If you know any
lhlng at all, that I should have to sub
jnlt the matter to our New York of
Hcers.
Knowing that he hod the sword In
Philip could not refrain from twisting
it a little In the wound, "r mm my
point of view, that would seem to be
the lost thing you'd care to do. You
could scarcely afford to give the facts
in the case, you know, and I don't see
how anything else would answer. How
ever, that is all beside the mark. I know
that you have tho authority to sign
papers and to transfer projerty" he
looked at his watch "my time Is lim
ited, gentlemen; which Is It to 1, an
amicable settlement or let us not
mince matters the chain gang?"
. For the' first time during the inter
view Fench roused himself to speak
"For flod's sake, Sharpie, don't trifle
with him; give him what he wonts!"
None the le, Sharplrss fought des
perately, contesting every inch of
g roiund. It would take time to draw
tip the papers; he must at least be ol
lowed to telegraph New York; he had
o idea that his draft would l honored
without explanations. To all of which
rhlllp turned a deaf ear and pointed
inexorably to the alternative, lie mast
have the draft and the security, or the
law should x allowed to take if
conr?e. When it flnnlly came down to
a mere question of tho time required
for the .preparation of the-papers
l'hilip produced a draft and mortgage
rendy for sfgnature, together with a
mlt-clnlin deed sigived by himself as
attorney la fact for jonniuigrow.
"You have a notary within rail," he
said; 4have him come in and witne-
your signatures."
The manager a clerk was summoned,
and when Tench had written his name
with trembling fingers under the
scrawling nip-nature of tho attorney,
tlie clerk filled out the attestation, and
the mortgage and the draft wero hand-
ed to Thorndyke. Sharpless dismissed
the young man curtly when his duty
was performed and turned Irascibly
upon his successful opponent.
"You will remember that this was
our own proposition," he said, angri
ly? "I 'ou fa'r warning that j-ou'll
have trouble with the matter yet be
fore 3'ou're through with it. Now give
mo thut paper that you've made so
much of."
It was a rush speech, ond If lawyer
8harples hnd not parted with all Ids
reserves of shrewdness he would never
iave uttered it. l'hilip calmly Ignore!
the demand end answered the threat.
"I shall look, to you to smooth away
all difficulties," he said, rising and tak-
ng up his crutches. "On the day your
draft is honored I will release the mort-
gngo and mail you the forged deed
and not a moment sooner."
Five minutes afterward he was mak
ing his way across the crowded street
to where l'rotheroo stood with two
saddled horses.
"It's done," he said, briefly, while tho
engineer was helping him to mount.
"Let's pet to the courthou ns quick
os we can; I shan't be oble to breathe
comfortably until tho mortgage is on
record."
XIX.
CONFESSION. AND ABSOLUTION,
rrotheroe tried, to make himself be
lieve that ho should not have allowed
rhilip to persuade him to go back to
Duncan's after the recording of the
mortgage, lie argued that it would bu
better on all accounts if ho should drop
quietly out of tho small melodrama
in which ho had at the first figured
only as a supernumerary. The resolu
tion hung In the balance while he wait
ed at tho courthouse for Thorndyke,
ohd it was the thought that, he still
owed Klsie some Indefinite debt of apol
ogy and explanation that finally turned
the scale in thedirectionof Philip'surg-
ings. On the way up the volley he tried
to reconstruct his dlimemWrcd Ideal.
to the end that he might be able to wit
ness Philip's triumph with some out
ward show of equanimity; and when
they reached the farmhouse he found
this easier than he had anticipated.
While Thorndyko was deservedly
tho hero of the day, the re
joicing in the Duncan household was
sincere enough to bo infectious; and
before he knew it, l'rotheroo wus ex
tolling Philip's courage aud persever
ance quito us honestly as any of the
ethers.
When tho excitement hnd alittle sub
sided, Philip asked how Kilgrow could
best be reached. Duncan wanted to
climb tho mountain himself, but his
wife objected.
'It'll just I flyln in the faceo' Prov
idence, wi' your rheumatics, Jamie,
and that'll no do, whatever," she said:
and when Protheroe offered to go, a
fresh difficulty arose.
"Ye wouldnn find auld Johnnie In u
month o Sundays, Robbie, lad. Dinna
ye ke.n he's hid awa frae Sharpies an'
his gang?"
Then Lisle came to the rescue, and
Duncan demurred again. "I'm no that
free to lat ye go, lairnle; the Lord
on'y knows how monyo Sharpless cut
throats ye might be fallin' in wi'."
All of which pointed to an obvious
conclusion. Deforo Protheroe could
2
f Vtaat sere roe fee? site kerf.
finally determine whether to be glad or
son-y, he found himself helping Klsia
up the path on John s mountain. W it ti
the unlimited opportunity for free
speech his confession stuck fast in his
throat. At first Lisle was too joyous;
no man in his soler senses could plead
his cause liefore a Judge whoso ebul
lient happiness overflowed all the ap
prooches to seriousness. And after
ward, when his taciturnity had damp
ened Llsic's enthusiasm, tho difficulties
were Increased rather than diminished
After a time they stood together upon
tho brink of tho Pocket, and l'rotheroo
realized that it was then or never; in
a few minutes they would lo with the
old mountaineer.
"Wait a minute, please," h said, as
Klsie waft atiout to lead the way to tho
path down tho cliff.
She stopped obediently, and tho fear
tii at delay would bring more irresolu
lion mado him go on quickly: "I want
to tell you how sorry I ora for what I
did the other day; I know it was Incx
cusable, but I haro done what I could
to atone for it.
She was standing at the verge of the
cliff, clinging to a small tree growing
out of ft crevfeo in the rock, and looking
down into the billows of foliage I
low.
"What have you done?" she asked.
"It isn't much, I know; but I kept
my promiae I brought him back to
you."
"Mr. Thomdyke, you rntw?"
"Yes."
Tm sure I'm tnuoh obligrd; it a
awfully good of you."
She turned still farther from him
and he made an involuntary step to
ward her when she leaned over the edge
of'the rock. Then lie saw that she was
shaking with suppressed laughter, and
penitence very neurly became wrath.
"Why are you laughing at me?" he
demanded.
"Pecnuse you're so ridiculous," ahe
retorted, facing him suddenly. "What
makes you talk as If Mr. Thomdyke be
longed to me? What right have you to
think that he is anything more than a
friend of my father's, like like your
self? How do you know that he Isn't
engaged to the young lady in New York
who writes to him every week?"
Protheroe made a praiseworthy at
tempt to be coherent, but it ended
rather tamely. "Then you then 1
have been mistaken all along in think
Ing Klsie, please come wny from that
cliff and tell me you forgive me."
"I won't not till you catch me."
And, with a mocking laugh in which
there was more joy than derision, she
slipped over tho edge of the rock and
was nearly out of sight in the path be
low lefore l'rotheroo gathered enough
presence of mind to accept her chal
lenge. The chose was short and vigor
ous, and when it was ended the process
of forgiveness appeared to bo pome
what abstru.se and complicated, judg
ing from tho time which elapsed before
the young man and the maiden present
ed themselves in the cave of the moun
tuineer. Kilgrow took the news of his pood
fortune with a serene complacency
born of a happy Ignorance of money
values.
"Thess so's 't they-all '11 lemme alone,
is all I keer," lie said, and they hod some
trouble in making him understand that
his presence was needed nt the farm
house. Loving and trusting KM?, he
went willingly when he understood
what was wanted of him; ond on the
way back to tho valley he was mindful
enough of his own long-buried youth
to keep well out of earshot of the two
young ieople, to whom tho return jour
ney was only too thort.
The afternoon sun was shining slant
wise over the neck of the Dull when
they reached the house, and nfter the
reticent and embarrassed mountaineer
had run the gauntlet of congratula
tion Tliorndyke took him up to the
attic ledroom.
'You understand that I'll have to go
to New York to collect this money," he
legan, when he wna alone with Us
client- "What nm I to do with It, and
how much shall I keep out for my fee?"
A smile of child-like surprise flick
ered for a moment on the withered face
of the old man. "Per you-uns pay?
I thort I doue tol' ye 'bout that thar.
Moi.g back yonder nt tho fust. I Mowed
to vou-unw then thatef so be yec d raise
me $2,000 oufn hit"
"Hut that's sheer nonsense, you
know," protested Philip. "I should be
treating j-ou worse than the others to
take such an ndvajitnge."
"P.arg'in's a barg-'in," Insisted Kil
grow, firmly.
"It wasn't a bargain, but I'll tell you
what I will agree to; I'll divide this
money equally with you."
"How much d' ye reckon that d be?"
"Fifty thousand dollars apiece."
The sum xas still too large to be com
prehensible to Kilgrow, and Philip
sought to help him. "If you put your
sharo Into government bonds, the In
terest would be obout $1,1100 a year."
Theold man sat In perplexed silence re
volving hift hat slowly in Ids thin hands.
"I reckon I cayn't figure hit out ef I
try," he said, after a little. "I wisht
you-uns M do whatsomcver ye th ink's
right weth hit."
"I'll Invest it for you, If you like, and
the interest can be sent to Duncan."
"I reckon that'll le all right." Kil
grow rose and moved toward the door,
stopping on the threshold to ask a
question that troubled him more than
tho disposition of his newly-acquired
fortune. "Ye reckon them fellers is
plum shore 't lemme alone, now, air
ye?"
, "Why, certainly. Tho thing's done
ond settled, and they've no more reaon
to persecute you now than if you d
never owned the land."
"Thank ye; that's what I keer fer
more'n the money. D ye 'low ye'll put
hit in them thar bon's?"
"That will lie the safest investment
for you."
There was another pause and more
eearchlng for the few common factors
of speech. "I'm gettln sort o' tol'able
ol, these days, an' they ain't nobody ter
come otter me; I reckon they ain't no
way ye c'd fix hit so't the little gal
mought git hit w'enr I'm th'oo weth
hit?"
"You meon Duncan's daughter?"
Kilgrow nodded.
"Why, yes; I can buy the bonds in
her name, if you wish."
"Thank ye; that thar'awKatl'sp'lnt
in' at." He nodded gravely and left the
room, coming back again presently to
hold out hi hand ncross the table to
Philip. "I cayn't jaw much you-uns
done foun that out fore now but I
reckon jou-uns kin sort o lay hit out
in j'ou-uns' mln' whot-all I'd say ef on'y
I thess knowed how. Taln't many of
era 'd V tuk up fer a pore ol' to'n-up
wildcatter, nohow."
Philip grasped the extended hand an J
wrung it heartily. "Don't say a word,
Mr. Kilgrow; the obligation Is all on
my side: I should bo a poor man to-day
if I hndn't won for you. And, besides,
you know I'm a young lawyer and this
is my first case; I ought to thank you
for giving it to me. And I do God
Mem youl"
iTO PR CONTtNUtD.l
A fUrtnna Csse,
"Mrs. Newly, is it true that your bus
band is so very absent-minded?"
"Perfectly. We've been married six
months and many an evening at 11 he
pets up, takes me by the hand, tells m
what a delightful tlmo he had and
would leave if I did not remind him."
Detroit Free Prei.
AT SEA IN A COFFIN.
A Convict's Queer Attempt to Kacape
In eialctirol Canoe.
Some curious detuils of the life of
the French convicts at Cayenne,
(Juayane, and the Safety islands are
given by M. Paul Mimande in u volume
which he has just published in Paris,
entitled "Forcats et Proscrits." After
describing all the most famous crim
inals at present In the penal colonic.
the author deals with livarvelous es
capes and attempts to escape.
Perhups the most remarkable of
them all is that of the onsa.Hsiu Lupi,
who went to stvi in a conin. He man
aged to get some nails, tar and cotton,
and one dark night he got into the
coffin shed, lie selected a fine, stanch
aud seaworthy coffin, fastened the lid.
in order to turn it into a deck, leav
ing a cockpit sufficient to enable him
to crawl in. lie calked all the joints
a well as he could, ami when this
work was finished he made a pair of
paddles out of two planks. Then he
brought out his craft with great jre-
caution. Without much difficulty he
reached the water's edge. Then he
launched his bark and crawled on
board. Assisted by the tide, he pad
dled his sepulchral craft. Silently and
slowly he proceeded. In the hope of
reaching either Venezuela or Hritish
Guiana.
Now, 150 nautical miles in a cofllndid
not constitute a very tempting enter
prise, but Lupi was full of confidence.
At the penitentiary it was soon discov
ered that he was missing. No boat
had been taken away. The boats were
always well guarded, and nobody ever
dreamed for a moment that any man
would go to sea in a coffin. It was
thought that he had either committed
suicide or concealed himself some
where near by.
Fortunately, or unfortunatelj', for
Lupi, the steamer 'Abeill returning
from the Antilles, off Paramaribo, came
close to him. Tho captain noticed an
object that looked like a piece of
wreckage around which a flock of sea
gulls were circling and screaming. Nat
urally that excited his attention, lie
steered the boat in the direction of'the
object. As he came close to it his curi
osity was increased. The thirjg which
at first he took to bo a piece of wreck
age turned out to be a coffin, and in
addition to its noisy-winged escort it
was accompanied by two guards that
traveled on either side of it like mount
ed escorts at the doors of nn official car
riage. These two guards were enor
mous sharks, whose great dorsal fins
from time to time seemed to touch the
sides of the. box. The captain of the
Abellle stopped the vessel and ordered
a boat to be launched nnd manned.
When the boat approached the coffin
the birds continued to hover about, but
tho sharks went down. The men In
the boat looked Into the box, and what
was their astonishment to find a man
in it half drowned nnd almost In a
fainting condition. They hauled him
Into the loat nnd took him on board
tho vessel, and a few hours Inter he
was In irons in his cell.
Unseaworthy boats are sometimes
called coffins, but Lupi Is perhaps the
only man who ever went to sea fn a
genuine coffin. N. Y. Sun.
LIFE IN ALASKA.
More Money In MerehnndUe Tlmn in
I'rospeellnif.
After spending nino years or more in
the gold ileitis of Alaska, Charles Kosen
berger, who was lmrn and reared on the
North side, nnd whoe jvimits live on
California avenue, near Sedgwick
street, does not think much of the
prospecting for gold business. He tried
his luck at digging for three, or more
years, spent all his avlng In gold
stock Investments, ond finally gave up
tho idea and witlcd down among the
Indians of the territory, trading in furs
nnd general merchandise, Helios since
found that there Is much more gold In
the regular business channels of Alaska
than in tho ground where so much of
the valuable mineral is suppowd to lc
dcjwslt"d.
Henry Mutli, of Allegheny, was one of
the boon companions of KosnMiberger
before he left the city. He met his old
comrade two years ago when he came
licre on a vldt, Mr. Muth says that
Itowcnlierger wns discouraged with the
gold business, but was impressed with
the rugg-ed life lie had been leading in
the north. Mr. Muth is familiar with
the tough exjerience of his friend in
finding a suitable claim In Alaska that
would ian out the profit in gold to ny
him for his hard work aaid troubles.
Mrs. I tnKcn I ergcr, mother of Charles,
said recently that Khohad not received
a letter from her son for over seven
months. When he last wrote he nnld ho
was doin a thriving business. He is
now located in Hack, Prince William
sound, and I doinjr a general merchan
dise business. He is olut 150 miles
away from the gold mining region. The
letter speaks of a liuralxr of jieople
from Pennsylvania who went to Alaska
to seek their fortunes, but who finally
returned short of money ami every
thing else. The writer declare that
gold h to lo found in the region, but he
nays U. is one eluuvoe out of a doreji
who will turn over the lucky noil.
Pittsburgh Chronicle-Telegraph.
Vmt Iron Dona unil1 llnnai Stataea.
For us, In America, it would perhaps
have leen better if the gardens of
Italy did not exist to enthrall the trav
eler with their sensuous charms, for
to them we owe the unhappy attempts
at imitations which find expressionIn
the cheap substitutes for real mag
nificence the zinc tatues, the foun
tains in which tho feeble stream seems
glad to hide Itself In the cast iron
basins, the stags ond ferocious mastiffs
in bronzed iron, the century plants in
cheap vncs, the bogus statues, ugly pa
vilions nnd summer houses which seem
a necessary adjunct to our private gar
dens nnd public parks. Architectural
Pev lew.
Tf you own ft bicycle you ore never
cut ft'n job. It always nerds repair
V;r Wo.hlrg1on Democrat
FOR SUNDAY READING
THE LITTLE OLD CHURCH.
Down In the smoke, where the roar and ths
rush
Of traillc Is harl all day:
Where the cars and the trucks and th
carriages crush
The crlnlthat pets In the way:
BurrounUtvl hy bullillnirs that tower above
AnJ nunketl by a bright Mt of sod
An oasts left there In the iletu-rt of trade
Is a spot that belongs to God.
I steal through tho half-open door and alt
down
In an lJ-faahloned pew to dream
To forget th roar of tho money-mad town
And through a memorial window a btara
Of Ood's weet sunlight forces Itself,
And Illumes the dark old place;
And a smile of sweet welcome seems to
sprt-Ad
O'er the pictured Saviour's face.
And so for awhlla my mind Is freo
From the world and its mad affairs;
Again my mother sits next to me,
And I hear her whispered prayers!
O, blissful hour! O, sacred spot.
What sweet old memories do ye bring!
O, cramped and crowded houso of God,
What glories still round the cling I
Again I can hoar the sweet old chimes.
As I slowly move away.
And I am better for thinking of thoso old
time
I've communed with Him to-day!
Surrounded by buildings that tower above,
And flanked by a bright bit of sod.
There Is rest, there Ls hope, there Ls happi
ness On this pot that belongs to Ood.
Cleveland Leader.
STUDY TO DE QUIET.
A Btrsvnite Antbltlou Pronoaed by
I'moI Work of Unlet Forces.
To the restless Thesalonlans, puz
zling their mind over the future and
neglecting the common business of life
In their anxiety alout the wcond com
ing of Christ, Paul proposes a at ranges
ambition. "Covet this reputation,"
says he, "to be quiet, and to attend to
your own accustomed employments,
and to labor wiith your liands, as we
commanded you." Tills passage con
tains a kindly warning still needed to
day, but needed for a precisely opposite
reason. The ThesKalondans wero too
much occupied with thoughts of Heaven
to be worth much on earth. Most of us
have eolittle of the true Heaven-11 fe, the
"age life," that Is, life of the new and
heavenly era so often poken of in the
Gospels, ond "translated "eternal life,
that it hardly affects at all the worry
and hurry with wlilch, we zealously
pursue the paltry alms of "the life that
now is." Strangely enough, while the
thought of endless destiny ond mibllmv
reward does, in most cases, profoundly
modify ourmotlves, Itofton falls utter
ly to bring into the ordinary perplex
lties of business nnd home life that
stead v calm which we see In the life of
our Iord and 4n all truly great oul,
Quietness of spirit does -not come
naturally; it must be acquired. Paul
shows his usual knowledge- of human
nature In the peculiar phrase, "study to
le quiet," or "lc ambitious to be quirt.
Probably the other odmonltlons' ore
not -widely needed In our age and "time
Industry and the dignity of honest
work stand hlgli in our scale of virtues
In the United States. There are Indeed
young men who affect to despise. man
ual labor and regard some minor clerk
ship as more to be desired than the
work of the mechanic. Ihvt for themoist
jmrt they are laugtied at for the preju
dice by men older and wiser. The very
pride that wme of us take In diligence
in business is closely allied to the hustle
and bustle that thealens every Kphere
of existence not only commerce and
manufactures, but education ond re
llgkr ns well. Tole always on the go
Is the height of ambition. To seem to
be on the go does almost os well for
some people. Leisure nnd meditation
ore crowded out. If one is attempting
to acquire mentaldlsclpllne In an ujvto-
date university, he Is likely to succumb
to the headlong Impulse of the place
and lose nil sense of scholastic leisure
In rhemad rush for cred its- and courses.
Ileliglou-s work shows n similar tend
ency in some of its phase. Wenrefar
from being too active Irv missionary en
deavor, either at home or abroad; but
in the regular meetings of the church,
especially in those of the young1 people,
there issometJmesonanxlety to"ee the
wheels go rounxV'h ether they are do
ln any work or not; a delight in ann
chinery, wlilch is not abated even if the
machinery rattles ft little. Can we not
accomplish Jut as much nvithout the
liurry and the obtrusive desire for rec
ognition.? The quiet forces accom
plish the unoet In thjs world, because
none of their energy It wasted.
Hut suppose one I naturally of a
nervous, restless dispositions nnd finds
it difficult to cultivate a quiet life, free
from worry and complaint, and undlt
turled by the up and downs of the
day. rerhoj of all the remedies that
may1esugsrested, none Js more effectual
than the forward look fto which the
Thcsalon!ann were over much given.
They thought too continuously of the
w onders of the world to come; we sel
dom allow a vision of the future to
throw it.v quieting1 light across the
troubled preeent,s the mellow rays of
an autumn sunset aoften the outline of
a rtigged landscape, and flood the fleet
Jnff glorles'of the leave with a momen
lory promise of stplendor unearthly and
abiding.
Surely the eternity that lie be-fore us
nhould give not only wolemnlty to life;
but a patient peace not easy to disturb
or destroy. Some people feel o strong
ly the shortness of life that they are in
a constant rush to get thing's done.
Others, more wisely, remember that we
have nil eternity to get things done, and
need concern ourselves only olout get
ting thenn well started. The ambition
to be quiet is certainly not the highest
of all. Theman that work nnd worries
Is better than the mnn that mnlntalns
calmness because he never undertakes
anything to !iturb It. Hut the fact
rcpain thnt a Christian who has stood
on the mountain nnd got the true per
spective of life, has no need to grow
r Mlenwlicn he descends 1o tnke uplhe
'.nl; of every day. shkago Standard.
Tf you would outwit tho devil, keep
br:y.
PREVIOUS GOOD CHARACTER. .
,Vo Guarantee That n Man vuii oi
Co in in It it Criminal Act. ;
Lntelv. when a judge was about to.
pronounce sentence upon a couple of(
men who had Wen convicted or gelling i
monev from the city of Hostou by false
pretenses, counsel for the prisoners elo
quently pleaded for light sentences ou
tho ground that their clients were men.
of good repute lu the communities
where thev resided and had neither of
them ever before been nccuscd of crime
Witnesses were produced who, them
selves meuofgoodstandingauiongthelr
neighbors, testified in the strongest
terms to the previous good characters
the men about to receive sentences. It
was shown by this ev idence, nnd iudecd,
common repute fully bears it out, that
not only were the convicts free, up to
tho time of their arrest on the charge
in question, from criminal records or
accusations, but they were in many
principal respects exemplary mem
bers of society. They were sober, in
dustrious, peaceable, charitable, punc
tual in the payment of pecuniary obli
gations, straightforward aud trust
worthy in the ordinary business affairs;
of life; and, besides were gcxxl neigh
bors, free from habits of personal vice,
and possieHed domestic virtues.
Cases such as these aro common. If
they were not common we should not
think it worth while to make special
comment on them. Heing common they
help to prove the existence of a highly
Important class of facts relating-to the)
science of criminology. They tend to
show that the possession of what ls
called "a good moral character" is no
guarantee at oil that a man will not
commit a criminal act. All that such a
character, as ordinarily defined and un
derstood, guarantees is that ho will not,
in all probability, do any of the thing
forbidden by tho particular social or
commercial code to which ho is in the)
habit of conforming. Thus it is reason
ably certain that n man who is habitu
ally sober will not get drunk; that a
man whose reputation for honest deal
ing is based upon long acquaintance
with him will not steal; that a peace
able, kind-hearted citizen will not stir
up a street brawl; that a man whoso
word is ns good as his bond , and whoso
lond is as good os the bank, will not
defraud his creditors; that the man
who prefers the society of his wife and
children to that of the club, or of sumo
less reputable resort, will not become
the corespondent In a divorce suit.
Hut such is tho inconsistency of hu
man nature that none of these thing
can le at all trusted os proving or
strongly tending to prove that such a
man, If elected to tho legislature, wilt
not take a bribe; or if he speculates on,
the stock exchange, will not connive nt
the circulation of false rumors affect
ing the price of shares; or that, if ha
controls a manufacturing industry, he
will not take nlvantagt of the hard
times to compel his employes to accept
a ten per cent, reduction from their al
ready starvation wage, while ho him
self manages to secure an addition of
20 per cent, to his already opulent sal
ary. Few things aro more perplexing and
discouraging to the sincere moralist
who is also a social philosopher than
this division of human nature on ita
moral side into sections and strata that
seem to be strangely disconnected ono
from another and each from the whole.
There have been theories, some of which
still find wldo acceptance, that are an
tagonistic to these facts. Some theo
logical conceptions refuse to take ac
count of tills contradictorlncHs of hu
man nature. The claim is mado that
character Is one warp and one woof
throughout tho whole fabric. Some
Scripture text are cited in support of
tho theory of uniformity. Somo at
tempt ls made to prove it by facts. Hut
tho facts will not bear investigation,
and tho texts are perverted by false
Interpretation.
For the moralist and for the religious
teacher tho only safety ls in symmetry.
It will not do to dejend upon nny
cure-all for tho soul any more than for
the body. There is no panacea, Tho
religious or moral quack who pretends
he has found It Is as dangerous to tho
social and moral health os is thomedlcai
quack to the bodily health. It is only
by attacking sin at every point and by
guarding against it nt every point that
the citadel of tho soul's life can bo kept
secure. Hoston Advertiser.
SPEAR POINTS.
l'ltby Dili nt Simureallon from lbs
llam'a Horn.
Harneetnrss ls self-denial at work.
Love cut the guardian knotof doubt.
A bad man sees little good in other
people.
A man is known by what ho is ond
where he is.
Contentment is the art of doing with
out things.
The crown U beyond the cross of toll
and self-denial.
A minute man is one not found in a
second's place.
The seeds of virtue gTOW beat wher
planted early.
To get money without work liaa
rnnde all the thieves.
Your acts will not go right while
your thoughts go wrontf.
"Success is costly." Paste thee thre
worth across your mirror.
Satan can wax fat In a heart too small
for Jesus to squeeze into.
If we would know God well, wo must
become familiar with His Hook.
The more thankful we are, tho more
w will discover to 1 thankful for.
L'nderstnndlng J enlightened' com
mon senso fortified by moral integrity.
Nothing is more to bo dreaded in
church or state than ignorance on fire.
ThelxMtcrwe know the Hible, the bet
ter we will know the God who gave it.
When we look to God ns the Giver of
nil good, wc will find good in nil ITo
gives.
A drop of the oil of humility will save
n man from a great deal of the rraart ot
humiliation.