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BT BATEHAJt A McDOSAJUD. WESSINGTON SPRINGS. D. T. THS KINGDOM OS RIGHT. There's the kingdom of gold, that reign* en the earth, With a power that dazzles the eye. Whose jewels, so rare, are of marvelous worth, And whose rulings few dare to defy. But. stronger than wealth Is the honest heart's health, And so forceful it is in its might, That both subtle and strong It beareth along, The masterful kingdom of,'right. There's the kingdom of fame, that flatten the soul With visions that build up for self. Whose hollow-mocked echoes resound through the whole. Whose motives and deeds are measured Dy pelf. But, close by its side. There will ever abide, A wonderful law, though hidden from sight, That summons UP all With myeticul call, To the masterful kingdom of right. There's the kingdom of rule, that sits on a throne Absolute and tyrannic in will, With scepter and crown, that it claims as its own. With pomp and with fear, to make the heart thrill. But nations shall pass Like stubble nnd grass. And fade l'rom the earth like a swift ray of tight But there still shall prevail, What none can assail. The masterful kingdom ol' right. Republics mar rise, and republics may fall, As long as tliis world shall endure, But those who arc strongest must list to the cull, Where place and where office is pure. This life, it is grand, If we but command The forces of faith, clear ui4 bright. Those voices that lead To our one greatest need— The masterful kingdom of right.. —KUa Dare, in Chicago Inter Ocean. A PERILOUS TRUST. The Story of a Traveling Clerk. Years ago, while 1 was a clerk in my uncle's dry goods store, in Whitehaven, Pa., my employer, becoming alarmed at the many burglaries which were perpetrated, resolved to send ten thou sand dollars to a bank in Harrisburg for safe keeping. As he was an invalid at the time, he concluded to intrust to me the convey ance of his money to the bank. I was then a young fellow of eighteen and felt proud of the trust reposed in me. When I was ready for my journey he provided me with a loaded pistol, con taining two barrels, and advised me to keep it in good condition. Then I had an interview with his adopted daughter, Susan, mv intended bride. Having soothed as well as I was able the fears she now expressed for my safety, I set out with a light heart on my journey. The wallet containing my uncle's ten thousand dollars was in my inside pocket, and in another pocket was my own wallet, which in shape and color resembled the other. Two day's traveling by boat and stage-coach brought me, without mis hap, to a tavern within twenty miles of my destination. "All aboard for Harrisburg!" shouted the driver of the coach, as he sprang to his place and seized the reins of his horses. Two other persons only, apparently strangers to each other, whom I had seen at separate tables while dining, entered the vehicle after I sprang in. One was an elegantly dressed lady of about twenty-five—the loveliest woman I thought I had ever seen. She gave a quick, flashing glance with her magnificent eyes as she smoothed out the ruffled folds of her dress then her long lashes fell, and she blushed slightly. Although I had resolved that I would be faithful to Susan, yet I could not help admiring the beautiful stranger. The other traveler seated opposite to me in the further corner of the stage, was an old, white-haired man, with a thick beard of the same hue, which, with the high collar of his coat, almost concealed his face. Now and then, as the coach moved on, the old man blinked at me in a half smiling, half sleepy manner. The vehicle had passed the few houses on the route, and was slowly going up an as cent in the road, when the male pas senger spoke to me. "Tedious work this,"the remarked. "Yes, sir," I answered. Have you come far?" "Tolerably far," I replied. As I spoke I made a startling discov ery. My fellow-passenger was not an old man. The upper edge of his wig— for it was a wig—had slipped down, re vealing a part of his coal-black, curly hair! The lady opposite to me leaned over then she arose and seated herself by my side. "I saw you start," she whispered, in an agitated manner. "Perhaps you have noticed the same thing I have." "You mean—the—the—wig?" I said. "Yes—that man's wig. Depend upon it, he is some bad character! You are not going to get out between this and Har risburg?"" "I had not intended to." "For Heaven's sake, do not! I should be so frightened to be left alone with that man!" And as she spoke I noticed that she trembled from lie:ul to foot. "Be not alarmed," I said. "You will ptotect me! Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!" she rejoined. With that she raised her beautiful black eyes gratefully toward my face. I felt flattered and pleased tc have this niagniiicent woman relying upon me for protection, and I pulled con ceitedly at the few hairs, which, in promise of a future mustache, had be gun to co*er my upper lip with a faint down. "I have a box of valuable diamonds in my pocket," continued my fair com panion. "I am afraid those are what that man is after. I fear he is a rob ber." "That remains to be proved," 1 said: "but, come what may, I will protect jou." "Will you? How noble, how brave you arc, sir!" My heart beat fast with pride and vanity. What would Susan say when ishe should hear of my adventure?— bow a beautiful woman and a stranger Tiad atone* placed contidenoe fa an to be her cbampiont Would she be jealous? Probably she would be when I should tell her aH about it, but I should soothe her (ears in a certain lofty, patronizing manner, which would cause her to respect me more than ever. These agreeable reflections were sud denly interrupted. The disguised pas senger, as the coach, having reached the top of the ascent, was passing a lonely thicket, sprang to bis feet, and' pointed a pistol at my head. "Fork over that money, you young coon!" he cried, hoarsely, "before you are a corpse! No noise, or I fire." "What money?" I stammered, in or der to gain time to draw my pistol. "The money—the ten thousand dol lars!" he said. I fumbled in vain for my weapon. It had been in the pocket of my coat—in the pocket next to the beautiful lady. "Here it is," came her sweet voice. "I looked toward her, and to my utter amazement and horror, there she stood, between me and the coach door, with my pistol, which she had skillfully ex tracted from my pocket, pointed straight toward my heart. "Hand over the money!" continued the silvery voice, "or you are a dead man." Here was a terrible—a sudden cure for my foolish conceit. I understood all now. The disguised man and the woman were not strangers to each other they were probably husband and wife, part ners in crime, belonging to the gang of burglars which had lately infested many parts of the State. Between "two fires," as it were, with a pistol pointed at me on each side—mv retreat by way of the coach door cut off —I will not deny that I was much alarmed. For an instant it seemed as W the courage which I had expected would support me under any circumstances, was about to desert me. By a strong exertion of the will, how ever, I recovered my self-possession. The mone3r—the ten thousand dollars had been intrusted to my care—it was not mine, and I resolved* that I would not surrender it. I drew forth my own wallet, which, as I have stated, was like the one contain ing my uncle's cash. "Here," I stammered, pretending to be more terrified than 1 x-eally was, "here is the money." "We will see about that," said the man. "Keep him covered with the pis tol, while I look at this." He took the poeketbook from me, and. proceeded to examine it, while the woman still kept the muzzle of the pis tol pointed towards me, with her linger on the trigger. "Now or never," I thought. With one loud shout to the driver of the vehicle for help, I sprang upon the man and clutched him with both hands by the throat. I was strong and supple for my age, and my unexpected assault bore my ad versary back upon the seat. Instantly he pulled forth his pistol, which he had put in his pocket before opening the wallet, and I felt the hard muzzle pressed against my side. Letting my left hand slide down from his throat I dashed my fist against the weapon, which was discharged at the same moment, the bullet passing through the bottom of the stage. "Fire, Bess! Shoot him dead!" yelled the burglar, as we fell upon the floor in a desperate struggle. But as I had anticipated would be the case, Bess hovered near us, afraid to fire while we were so closely entwined together lest she might hit her husband. Striking at each other we still.fought, each vainly striving to get uppermost. In he struggle the white whiskers and hair of the villain came oft", reveal ing to my gaze the strongly-marked face of a middle-aged man, who I re cognized as a person who had come into my uncle's store a few days before and made some trilling purchases. I had afterwards seen this same person, who was a stranger, conversing with our servant in the street. The feet had not excited my suspicions at the time, as strangers often came to our store to buy our goods. Now, however, I felt sure that this man had contrived to glean from the servant enough information about my relative's pecuniary affairs to comprehend that there was a certain large sum of money in our house, and that my uncle intended to send it to a bank. The rest was plain enough. The ras cal had evidently seen me leave the house on my journey, had suspected the cause, and had tracked me with the intention of robbing me. For some minutes it was hard to tell which of us would get the best of the struggle there on the iloor of the stage. At last, by a quick movement, I con trived to get uppermost, and to again fasten both hands on the burglar's throat. "Quick, Bess," he gasped, in a sti fling voice, for I was choking him. The woman drew nearer, and now, having a good chance to shoot me, she pointed the pistol straight at my temple. I closed my eyes, With a sliudder, and prepared for death. I believed my time was come. But, just then there was a shout, fol lowed by a shriek from the robber's wife, and, opening my eyes, I per ceived that the stage-driver had entered just in time to snatch the pistol from her grasp just as she was about to tire. "Let him up, sir we have him fast enough now!" said the driver as he pointed the pistol at the burglai'. I released my hold of the prostrate man. "llun, Bess, run for jour life!" be gasped, as he staggered to his feet. The woman sprang through the open door of the coach, and made off. "We'd better tie up this fellow for safe keeping," said the driver. "If you'll keep the. pistol pointed at him, I've some pieces of rope here, which we'll iind handy now." I took the pistol, and covered the out law with the muzzle, while the driver, from under a corner of the seat, pulled forth some stout pieces of rope, which he stated he always kept there, to use in case of any mishap to the ooach. Perceiving that resistance was useless, the burglar permitted himself to be bound. "There, now, we have him safe and sound," said the driver. "If you'll keep guard over him while I drive on toward Harrisburg, we'll soon have hfcai in 'limbo.'" 1 cordially thanked the timely assistance. "Don't speak of it,"he said lightly. "It's my duty to look out for the com-: fort ol my passengers," he added, grin ning, as he glanced at the prisoner. "I would have come to your help before, sir, only do you see, I'm rather deaf,' and didn't even guess what was going on inside till I heard the pistol shot" far Ittej A few hours later the coach arrived at its destination, and the burglar was soon iu the hands of the police, but the woman, Bess, could not be found. 1 deposited my relative's money Safe ly in the bank and after having re mained a week in Harrisburg, at the end of which time the robber was loeked up in prison, I returned to my undo, to whom I related my adventure. The servant—a German girl—on be ing questioned, admitted tnat she had informed the strange man who had come to the store, that her employer had in the house ten thousand doSntrs in money, and that she had overheard him tell me he intended to send it to the Harrisburg bank, as he was afraid of burglars. When Susan, with both little hands on my arms, and the tears in her eyes, listened to my narrative, I avoided her and almost hung my head for shame to think how the beautiful Bess had suc ceeded in playing upou my vanity, so that, for some moments, she had made me almost forget my own good, kind g'lrl However, my being duped. Sy the beauty and artfulness of the batlfrom.in hadthe effect of destroying foW v"tr my boyish conceit, and of making hie, "I trust, more worthy of the love of this same noble Susan, who finally became, my wife.—Rufus Hale, in N. V. Ledger. Three Hundred Years of Vrctie Ex ploration. It is but eight years less than three centuries since the first Arctic expedi tion reached the region of polar ice and spent a dreary winter, looked in by the icebergs and shut up in their huts by wolves, snow storms and white bears. Two lives were sacrificed in this expedi tion, which reached the latitude of eighty degrees and eleven minutes. Three, hundred years have passed and the latest, theGreely expedition, touched eighty-three degrees twenty-four min utes, the highest latitude reached since the Dutch navigators spent ten months in the ice oft' the island of Nova Zemhla. Iu all those three centuries only three degrees of the journey to the pole have been overcome—a distance something less than the distance between New York and Boston, a little more than between New York and Albany. This fact alone is a significant com ment upon the value of these expedi tions which have cost a prince's revenue and as many lives as have been lost in some noted battles. The Dutch were the great navigators of the sixteenth century, and soon after achieving their nation's independence began to speculate upon a passage to China and India by way of the North Pole. Their ideas of that region were fanciful indeed. Some believed that those seas inclosed a polar continent of perpetual summer and unbroken day light, whose inhabitants had attainec perfection in virtue and intelligence. Others thought it peopled with monsters having horses' hoofs, dogs' heads and ears so long that they coiled them around their bodies in lieu of clothing. Other tribes were headless with eyes in their breasts, living in incessant fogs and tempests during the summer, but dying every winter and, like plants, revived to life by the advent of a brief spring. It was believed that the voyagers would have to encounter mountains of ice and volcanoes of fire, together with monsters on land and sea more ferocious than the eye of man ever saw. But in spite of these terrors, on the 5th of June, 1594, the first expedition destined to navigate these frozen seas set out from Amsterdam. Their shins and appliances were of the rudest de scription. In place of the stanch mod ern steamboats built for the purpose they sailed in small, unwieldy vessels built like a tower at stern and stem, scooped in the middle and scarcelv able to plow their way through the water, to say nothing of the ice. Instead of the delicate and ingenious scientific instru ments constituting an exploring outfit of the present day they had a "clumsy astronomical ring, three feet in circum ference, on which they depended for ascertaining the latitude. They had no food, no rifles, no compact ammunition, no heavy clothing of fur, no rubber gar ments, no logarithms, log or nautical almanacs, no tea, coflee, or the hun dreds of luxuries, stimulants, medicines, and other stores which now abound in such profusion. The first expedition was turned back by the ice and polar bears, but the prob lem of a northeast passage to China was considered solved, and the next year a second ship was sent with a car^o ol broadcloth, linens and tapestries for the Chinese market which the explorers were expected to reach. Again the ice and the bears frightened them back. But an offer of twenty-five thousand florins to the discoverer of a northeast passage to the East led to at liird expe dition, the first that outlived a polar winter amidst perils and sufferings, whose story reads as much like the nar ratives of Kane and De Long, of Hayes and Greelv, as the stories ot shipwreck and rescue in the days of Robinson Cruso read like those of the days of Enoch Arden. Notwithstanding all the discoveries and appliances of the year 1884, the Greely and De Long parties suffered quite as much as the Dutch explorers of 1596, which any one may see who cares to read the account in the third volume of Motley's "United Netherlands. Detroit Free Press. —In one jail in Egypt Mr. Clifford Lloyd found no fewer than seventy-live of the leading men of the district with their feet covered with blood and fester ing sores, weeks after the bastinadoing to which they had been subjected b\ the order of the Mudir. Their hands still bore the deep cuts of the thongs by which they had been suspended in or der to extort a confession, and the thumbscrew had been unsparingly ap plied. Two of the prisoners had died under the courbash, the others were lingering in ago^y. A Case of Ltke Cares Like* An old bachelor friend of mine who lives up town has had a dreadful expe rience lately. "Remark these sunken eyes," said he with a wan smile, "see this wasted vis age, that flattened cheek, and this pinched nose. It's all on account of a neighbor who has got into the habit of giving summer-night parties. But I've curea her, I reckon," and he chuckled savagely. "Summer-night parties?" I echoed, interrogatively. *'Yes Mrs. Blank, who lives next door to mine, is a votary of fashion in a small way. But as her husband isn't wealthy enough to send her to Saratoga, she conceived the idea of making things lively in town for a while by get ting np ice-cream evening parties. Ice cream, as everybody knows, means girls, and girls mean flirtation and mu sic, and pandemonium generally. The racket began some three weeks ago. I smoke a pipe and read or chat till bed time, ana generally go to sleep by 10:30. Well, sir, just as 1 would be off in the first blissful doze, there would come a tremendous racket. All of a sudden, bang! bang! would go the cheap hired piano, and some wretch who makes be lieve to sing tenor, or possibly a fiend in a chnVhammer coat who professes to sing bass, but only succeeds in emit ting a hideous series of grunts and roars, would begin the circus. The windows being open, every one on the block was treated to the infliction of a free concert. In one short week I heard the score of a dozen prime operas mur dered, a raft of solos torn to shreds, and Heaven knows how many arias from the best composers rendered in a way that would make angels weep. I lost my sleep on an average of three nights a week." "Not much. I went to Mr. Blank and told him that unless he called his wife off I was a dead man. He laughed at me then he swore and then he ordered me out. I told him I would get square—and I did," "How?" "I went down town the next morn ing and bought of a dog fancier a canine that was warranted to howl enough to turn the edge of a razor. Oh, he was a beauty! His teeth were set back as far as his ears, and when he lay back, set up his snout and howled, you could hear him to Harlem. I chained him in the back yard, and that night there was a concert. He took his feed quietly, and I thought he was really foing to sleep, but ne was only saving imself for a good time later on. About 10:15, sure enough bang! bang! pumpetty! whack! thump! squirr! rick ety! rack! br.—r—r—rip! went the piano, and out on the night floated the strains of a wheezy soprano in Some day—a—some—day—a— Some day I—a—shall—a—meet you, when my dog caught on. He thought it was a duet, and he did his part of the business right up to the handle. Every time the singer caught breath that dog gave a series of yelps and howls that made the windows rattle and my soles tingle. He really spoiled the effect of the song, I think, for a moment later the music stopped and somebody flung a boot, or something that scunded like it, into my back-yard. But that made him howl the louder. He got well into the kennel and lay down with his head a little on one side, nice and easy like, and there he howled so lusti ly that I felt I had got him cheap at the money. "Well, he kept it up for three nights. Then old man Blank came round to my house and said he guessed there wouldn't be any more parties this sum mer as his wife had concluded to go to the country for a spell, and if I would call off my dog he would call off Mrs. Blank. So we called it square and now I get my night's rest. But another week of it would have made a total wreck of every soul in the block."—N. Y. Star. Stealing Eagles. A farmer named Peter Gow, in Dun wich, is in possession of several young eagles, whose eyrie is in. a tall tree on his farm. Several boys in Dutton have had a hankering for these eagles for some time, but Mr. Gow said he would not part with them at any price. The boys were determined that he should, and one night this week they appeared at the foot of the tree with pikes attached to their legs, after the mode of the tele- fraph erectors, and a stout strap to uckle around the tree to assist in climbing. The boldest boy in the crowd climbed the tree, and when about sixty feet from the ground, just under the eagle's nest, his strap dropped and lodged where it could not be got. He was in a predicament. He could not get down without assistance, which the boys could not give. Various plans were suggested, but to no purpose. So towards morning, when the boy in the tree got tired of hanging on "and was about to drop, they went to Mr. Gow's house and besought him to come out with a rope and help save the life of the youngster in the tree. The old gentle man forgot the iniquity of their act and ran to the barn, took the rope out of his hay-fork and went to the tree at a two-forty gait. The question was:* How to get the rope up to the boy? After considerable cogitation the lad up in the tree was seen tearing his shirt, and the problem was solved. The shirt not being sufiicient his pant.' Were next made into strips and tied to gether. Tiiey reached the ground the rope was attached to it and drawn up, and down came the lad from his preca rious position as naked as when he was born. Mr. Gow provided the youngster with a pair of pants and ahorse blanket to keep the musquitoes from eating him up on the way home through the swamp. These boys think stealing eagles a poor spec.—Toronto News. —She looked just a bit anxious as she appeared on the wharf at the foot of Woodward avenue yesterday and asked: "Anybody jumped in here to day?" "No, ma'am." "Will you please do me a favor?" "Yes'm." "My husband has threatened to drown himself, and I don't want him to. 1 can't stay here and wateh because I'm going on an ex cursion. In case he comes won't vou please discourage him. He's very easy discouraged, and I can go on my trip and feel like enjoying myself.'' The Man promised, and she went away in the best of spirits.—Detroit Free Press. Religious. THE UNSPENT POWER. Ages come, and ages go, Like the ocean's tidal flow Flowing with a caim content Ever spending, never spent. Fore»ta fall, and forests rise, Piercing with their beads the skies Seed and fruitage still appear. As they came in Eden's year. So a life of higher form, Free of either sun or storm. Works In human hearts alway— Worked of old, and works to-day. Infidels may prate in pride Scoffing earthlings may deride Truth and right awhile may wa% But shall triumph soon or late. There Is power spending ever, Reaching metes and limits never: Up to time's remotost hour, Still a spending, unspent power. Sev. James Upborn, L). D., in Ifatehman. International Sunday-School Lessons. THIRD QUARTER. Aug. 84—The Plague Stayed..—2Sam.24:15-2i Aug. 31—Rod's Works andWord..Psa. 19: 1-14 sept. 7—Confidence in God Psa. 87: 1-14 gept 14—Waitingfor the Lord....Psa. 40: 1-17 Sept. 21—A Song of Praise Psa. 108:1-28 Sept. 88—Review or Missionary. Temperance, or other Lesson selected by the school. CHRISTIAN COURTESY. It is not the most rarely-practiced virtue imaginable, neither is it the most common one. But it should be a far more general habit among Christians at large than it is, to extend little courtesies and civilities towards each other as opportunities occur. It was the custom of a dear old gen tleman of our acquaintance on entering the church vestibule of a Sabbath morn ing to look keenly around, greeting kindly any or all of his friends he chanced to see. But that was not the only object he had in giving that keen look. If a stranger stood within that hallowed inclosure it seemed to be a special privilege to step up to him, ex tend a friendly hand and blandly offer a seat in his pew. On one or two occasions, when the children of the family hinted that the pew was none too large for the accom modation of the members of the house hold usually present, they were re minded that iu their church home they must always make room for the stran ger who might happen to be within the gates, and there was mild surprise on the other's face that they could enter tain other feelings than those of wel come for the stranger. It was amusing at a recent evening meeting to hear a gentleman tell of at tending an evening service at another place, when the subject before the peo ple was that of cordiality towards strangers it was urged in earnest terms that any person seen in the conference room whose face was unfamiliar should not be allowed to depart without hav ing been extended a friendly greeting, and kind Christian welcome. "And," continued the gentleman, "I walked slowly out of that vestry as comfortably as you please, looking lirst at one, then another, but no one spoke to me or noticed me in the least. I was allowed to depart as I had entered, an entire stranger." So easy it is to preach, so different a thing to practice. Having occasion to worship in a strange church recently, we were shown into a vacant pew soon tho owner en tered bowing courteously, and we were made to feel at home at once but when our umbrella suddenly fell along the pew and we were not allowed to pick it up, but had it hastily replaced by the quick politeness which made our fel low-worshipper act as though in his own house, and a host for the time be ing, then it was we recognized the spirit of the true disciple of Him who came to serve, not to be served. A very little test one may say. True, it was a very little test, but it is in the little acts of our lives that character and disposition reveal themselves. Life is short, and opportunities once afforded for a kindly word or act, may not be given a second time. As we grow older and the news of a sudden death occasionally reaches us, the mind involuntarily reverts to the last time we saw or spake to the one who "will'not pass this way againg." If there was lacking anything of kindness or courtesy in that last greeting, with what a useless pang of regret the fact is recalled. The only safe rule of con duct through life regarding our feelings and attitude towards others is that of a uniformly kindly, consistent, cour teous bearing, the bearing of the true Christian. Little matters of personal discomfit ure, disappointments which are the com mon lot of all, need furnish no excuse for an impatient manner towards those who, for au jht we know, may be more burdened than ourselves. The Bible rule is the safest and best to follow: "Be ye kindly affectioned one towards an other. loving one another."—Golden Iiule. Puritan Principles and Puritan Pluck. Our good friends, the Knickerbock ers, are never weary of telling us that our fathers were sanctimonious snif fers, who rolled up their eyes, and snarled psalms through their noses— canting hypocrites, who persecuted Quakers, and hung forlorn old women for witches. Well, Cromwell and his men did sing hymns to some purpose, and the proudest music of the Scotch Highlands was the psa'mody of the old Covenanters, whose lingering echoes still haunt those misty mountains. Mas sachusetts certainly persecuted the Quakers, and so did New York, and the negro hangings in New York a hun dred and forty years ago are as atro cious as the witch hangings in Salem. In the game of persecution, as between Isew England and New York, the dis honors are easy. Iiut when we have ca"ed the Puritain a sour-faced fanatic, have we done with him? Is that all? Old John Adams, one of the greatest names in American history, "was a small, choleric and dogmatic man. But the little, dogmatic and testy man took the Continental Congress, took the Amei ican Colon:es iu his arms, and lilted_ them to independence. You do not dispose of John Adams by calling him Sir Anthony Absolute. You do nol dispose of the Puritan by calling him Praise God Barebones. Was he a°sour faeed fanatic? But John Robinson, at Leyden, confident that there was more truth to break forth from Cod's Word, is quite as lofty a figure as Arch bishop Laud in Londou, cropping and branding aea into eccicsiTstu^ fortuity, and the grim old kXl Governor John Endicott nh.iaotto Rot. 0f \r lead, OI Ml chusetts Bay, cutting the cnJL the Colonial flag, is quite ."J? ruler as the courtly King Chariest* ?!nln!!?D.d:P»rtinj? love-i2j and telling°]ies toTheTaB** their fruits ye shall know them $ Puritan may have fined a man fd, ing his wife on Sunday, but he lPri ,, battle of religious liberty. He ui nuigiuus uDerty. u® have put a boy in the stocks for in"1?* ing the magistrate, but he founded Ir freest of free commonwealths Bvik fruits, not by their roots, ve shall t them. Under the matted, damn 1« in the April woods of NewXfe struggling, and burrowing, andstrS mg far in darkness and in cold I shall find tough, hard, fibrous r2(°a But the flower they bear is the lovell, and sweetest of all flowers in the vo The root is black and rough and sightly. But the flower is theAi Flower. The root of Puritanism i? have been gloomy bigotry, but (H flower was liberty and its fruit nl hold your country! Sons of the grims from Katahdin to the GnlrU Gate.—Qeorqe William Curtis. The Inspiration of the Christian Lire What is there in human life that doet not pass in the mystical? In physical life you have not solved the probiemg of its quality and causation when vou have proved laws of force and eJiemfe. try and gravitation and electricity Vou have demonstated its modes. Ail pw ical analysis runs up into mysticism-, the inscrutable mystery of life-thai which causes the operation of all la\n —which causes motion, and growth and assimilation, and function. It is mystery of vital causation, as great and as inscrutable as the indwelling of the Spirit of God in the soul of a man, cans ing his religious vitality, and motion, and growth. Or take the analogy of human relation, ships. We are all familiar with the in. lluence of one man upon another—how friend or lover enters into the affections, takes possession of them, and through these changes our character and rufei our life. It is our commonest experi ence of the power of life. And yet how utterly it refuses to lend itself to analy sis. This mystery of human inspiration is an indwelling that is utterly inscrut able ««I will come in and sup with him is this a mere figure of speech? Does it mean no more than the suasive, sympa thetic influence of man upon man? Is it to bo superficially interpreted as the mere influence of teaching or example? Of course Christ does influence us in this way His words of divine truth do in fluence our thought His example of peerless holiness does influence our heart, just as those of any good man might do. But is this all that is meant by Christ's indwelling? This would not be a sufficient explanation of the life of a vegetable or an animal. Is the spiritu al life of the soul so inferior a thing that so contemptuous an explanation of it sufiices? Is it not the probability that it follows the analogy of the lower do main of physical life? Can we con ceive of life, in any form of it, as self caused? Is not all life God-quickened? —a mystic product of some divine fore that we can neither explain nor deny? Is not my spiritual natu.'e a witness!. What is my susceptibility to divine quickening? What is my capability of religious thought and feeling? I have a religious character that can neither destroy nor ignore. And when Christ tells me that the Spirit God speaks to this nature of mine, quickens it, enters it, dwells in it, all that is in me respond 1 feel the harmony and the precious ness of the assurance, and its truth is attested by my consciousness. A ne* life is unquestionably produced within me, and is not this the most rational ex planation of it? This, then, is the fundamental thought, the great and blessed secret oi a man's religious life—"Christ in you the hope of glory." It is a conscious ness in religious life which is full of in spiration, tne source of all that is great est in its achievements, of all that ii most blessed in experience. So Chris tian men gloriously struggle in the bat tie with evil, patiently bear with God's processes of discipline, triumphantly rejoice in their hope of glory. There is the higher life," the "witness of the Spirit with their spirit," the "peace that passeth all understanding, keeping the heart- and the mind," the "joy that is unspeakable and full of glory." "He abideth with you, and shall be in you." —Henry Allon, D. D., in The Quiver. Gems of Thought. —It is a great act of love to God tc trust, like a son, God's tremendous power. There can be no confidence without the filial feeling. We always get back to the point, God is our father. —F. IV. Faber. —Don't do your good through com mittees if you can do it personally the face of the giver is better than the thing given, often but if you can do some thing through a committee besides what you do personally do that.—// Eeecher. —There are men who are asking: "How can I serve God without using mj tongue? How can I serve God without going to the prayer-meeting?" There is this tendency runr-ing all through human nature, namely, how to cheapen religion. "How can I live the relief")3 life, and have it cost me just as littj* labor, just as little money, just as Mle thought, just as little time, just as little trouble, as possible?"—Rev. John I'Mej Thompson. —Coleridge somewhere compawj worldly pleasures to the "centers' wooden frames "that are put under tli arches of the bridge, to remain longer than till the latter are con-sol idated, and then are thrown away0 cast into the fire." So it is, he saJ-' with mere worldly and sinful pleasing that "they are the devil 's scaffolding build a habit on, and that once fw'11' and fixed, the pleasures are sent firewood, and hell beg'ns sometime' this life." Such sinful and uuhallo* pleasures are like the mocking m11 of the desert, luring on to disapp°,, mcnt, if not ruin in the 011ltjs. pleasures of religion are not only s! lying, but they are botKfsafe ana en1 ing—the s«ed of an endless liarvf' joy at God's right hand in Heave A'. 1'. Observer.