l My Fellow Laborer, f
; •*»««»* £
$ By H. RIDER HAGGARD. £
%»*»»«*»**
CHAPTKR I.—(Comtisiisp.)
A year after mv marriage my wife
unhappily became the victim of a had
accident In a cab, a* a result of which
our child John was a cripple from hls
birth. To this unfortunate Itabe, Miss
Denelly, or Fanny, as we called her,
took a violent affection, which, a* the
child's Intelligence expanded, was am
ply returned. Indeed, he cared more
for her than for hls mother and my
self put together, and 1 think that the
cause of their mutual attachment was
to he found In Fanny's remarkable
strength of body and character. The
poor, weak, deformed hoy rested on
solid depths of nature, as some by fulth
are able to rest on Providence, with a
sense of absolute security. However
much pain he was In he would become
ipilct when she came and took him In
her strong arms and nursed him.
Oddly enough, too, It was almost the
same thing with my wife.
Sho had never got over the effects of
her accident, and the shock of the birth
of our crippled boy. Indeed, as the
years went on, she seemed to grow
weaker and weaker, anil to rely more
and more absolutely on Fanny.
The germ, small os a mustard seed,
which bus now, after so many years of
experimental labor und patient
thought, grown up Into the great tree
of my discovery, lay In my mind In the
form of a dormant spe-culallon from
the very commencement of my medical
career. After my marriage It began
to grow and take root there, but for
Home yearn I went on with my every
day practice, which was that of a con
sulting doctor In the city, and said
nothing about It. The fact was that
the whole seemed too wild, and I was
afraid of being set down as one of
those enthusiasts who spend all their
lives In chasing a shadow.
At lost, however, my secret grew
too heavy for me to bear, and one
night, after dinner, acting on some
sudden Impulse, I began to unfold It to
my wife and Fanny. At first my wife
was much Interested, and said that, ft
all sounded like one of Poe's tales, but
presently, when I got more to the In
tricate parts of my theory, for It was
nothing hut a theory then, she fell
Into a brown study, and after a while
broke Into the conversation. I
thought she was following my line of
argument, and about to question It, and
was rather disgusted when she said:
"Excuse me, Geoffrey, but did you
rememt>er to send that check for the
coals?”
J suppose I looked put out, at any
rate 1 stopped abruptly.
"Don't be vexed with me for In
terrupting, dear,” she went on, “but
I want to know about the coals, and
haven’t been able to get a word In
edgeways for the last twenty minutes."
‘Quite so,” I replied, with digulty.
“Pray don't apologize; no doubt the
coals are more Important than my dis
covery.”
"Nonsense, dear,” she answered, with
a smile; "of course, If there was any
thing In what you say, It would be
very Important. But If your story Is
true, you arc as bad as that man Dar
win, who believes that we are all
descended from monkeys, and what
we are told in the Hlble about Eve
being made out of Adam's rib falls to
the ground. So you see It must he
nonsense, and the coals are the most
Important after all.”
Now my dear wife was one of the
sweetest as she certainly was one of the
best, women in the world, but on one
point she was always prepared to lose
her temper, and that point was Adam's
ribs. Bo, being aware of this, I held
my tongue, and after talking a little
more about the coals, she said that
she did not feel well, and was going
to bed.
CHAPTER II.
LL THE time that
1 had been holding
forth, until my elo
quence was quench
ed by the coal
(j u e h i i on, f anny
whh Bitting opposite
me. watching my
face with all her
eyes. Kvldently she
was Interested In
what 1 had to My,
though she sat bo silent. She wbm now
seventeen or eighteen years of age, ami
a very tine young woman Indeed, hut
a remarkably silent one.
When my wife had hidden us good
night and gone, I title I my pipe and
lighted It, for I was rutiled, and smok
ing has a soothing effect upou tuy
nerves.
■’tieoffre)>atd Fanny, when I had
finished, lor she always railed me
Ucoffrey, la this Idea of yours a new
HU* f I mean, has H ever entered any
body’* brain before’’*
"No far aa I am aware I answered,
"It is tbs euc vtrepllon that was want
ed to prove tfobowog s ml It it ah
Miloteiy and eumpUtely tie* * tThta
baa sobem|Neatly turned out to ha the
lari i
"If I understand you rightly, your
Idea ll It van be eetghUnlMd. will
htrntsh a rational *vt aa*;toa of the
phesuao uea of life "
Uette an," I aa»w< red for her In
terpreiattea waa In every way e> urate,
atm eel p*«*ant natty so
"And. >be vent • h the eertatot? of
the iMMtktl immortality of the soul
-<• rather of the ego or Indivtdaui
Identity wilt folio* as a tawntti eou
emineme. wilt It hot*
"Yen Individual innsriiilly of
• Varything that bav Ilfs la the heyatooe
I of the arch. If that Is. wanting there
I is nothing is my discovery.”
I "And this immortality will be quite
independent of any known system of
I religion?"
"Certainly, as most people under
1 stand religion, namely as typified by
lhe tenets of a particular sect, but not
by any means independent of natural
religion, and on the other hand alto
gether dependent on the existence of a
supreme, and In the end. all-trlumphant
power of good, which. If my theory can
lie upheld, will then he proved beyond
the possibility of a doubt."
Fanny thought for a moment or two,
and then spoke again.
"Do you know, Geoffrey, if you carry
: this through, you will go down to
posterity us one of the greatest men
] In the whole world, perhaps as the
I very gt eatest!”
! I knew from the tone of her voice
that she meant what she said, and also
that If all this could be proved, her
prophecy would probably be fulfilled.
“Yes," I said, "but I suppose that to
work the whole tiling out, and prove
It, would take a life-time. To begin
with, the premises would have to be
established and an enormous amount of
special knowledge acquired, from the
groundwork of which, and from the
records of thousands of noted cases of
mental phenomena, that it would take
years to collect, one would have to
work slowly up toward the light. A
man would be obliged to give bis en
tire time to the subject, and in my case
even that would not suffice, for I am no
mathematician, and, unless I am mis
taken, the Issue will depend almost en
tirely upon the mathematical power of
the investigator. He could not even
employ anybody to do part of the work
for him, for the calculator must him
self be Imbued with the spirit that di
rects the calculations, and he pre
pared to bend them this way or that,
I/. ll.l„ »n/l I /. lift
other as circumstance* require. Now.
as you, know I am little short of a
fool at. mathematics, and therefore on
this point alone I am out of the race,
and 1 fear that the Secret of Life will
never be discovered by me, though
perhaps I shall be able to put some one
else on the track of It."
"yes," said the girl, quietly, "that
Is true enough, hut you forget one
thing. If you are not a mathemati
cian, I am, and 1 can enter Into your
Ideas, Geoffrey, for I believe that we
have grown very much alike during
the last four or live years—1 mean In
mind."
I started, for both her statements
were perfectly accurate. The girl had
remarkable mathematical faculty, al
most approaching to genius. I had
procured for her the best instruction
that 1 could, hut she had now arrived
at that point when Instructors were
of no further use to her. In those
days, of course, there were not the fa
cilities for female education that there
are now, and though It Is not so very
long ago, learning In woman was not
thought so very highly of. Men rather
said, with Martial: "Sit non doetissima
eonjunx," and so her gift had hitherto
not proved of any great service to her.
Also she was right In saying that we
had grown al'kc In mind and ways of
thought. She had come Into the house
quite young, but young as she was,
she had always been a great com
panion to me. Not that she was much
of a talker, but she understood how to
listen and to show that she was giving
her attention to what was being said,
a thing that in my opinion a very few
women can do. And 1 suppose that In
this way, she, in the course of time,
became thoroughly Imbued with my
Ideas, and, in short, that her mind, as
1 thought, took its color from my own.
At any rate, it did so superficially, and
I know that she would understand the
drift of my thoughts long before any
body else did, and would even some
times find words to clothe them before
I could myself.
"Why should wo not work on the
Secret of Life together, Geoffrey?” she
said, fixing her dark eyes on my face.
"My dear,” I answered, "you know
not what you do! Are you prepared to
give up your youth, and perhups all
you life, to a search and i study which
may and probably will after all prove
chimerical? Hemember that such a
thing is not to be lightly taken up, or,
If ouce taken up, lightly abandoned,
tr t mnko mi mv mind to iinilcrutiiiwi it
I shall practically lx* obliged lo give up
my practice as a doctor to do It: and
the same, remember, applies to you.
for I should prove a hard task-master
Yott would have to abandon all the
every-day alma aud pleasures of your
sex and youth, to scorn delights and
live laborious days, ou the chance of
benefiting humanity and for the cer
tainty of encountering opposition and
i idiot le."
"Yea," she said, "hut I am willing
to do that. I want to become some
; body and to do something with nty
life, not Just to go out like one little
: caudle In a lighted ballroom and uever
j be missed,"
"Very well, fanny, so ha It. I only
hope you have not undertaken a task
beyond your strength If you have
uot, y«u are a very temaikalde wom
an. that Is all."
At that moment our conversation
was disturbed by the sound uf a person
falling heavily on the hoot of the room
above us, which ass a u«ded by my '
wife.
Without another word uv la» h turn
ed and tau up-statrn I boobed at the
door, hot, getting k» aaanar, entered,
accompanied by fanny , to had my >l<ai
atte lying tu h«*r dteastag gown In a
dead lost betels lb* loytet table hi
lifted her up to the hed wad with great
■tu* utty hr ought her round, hut this
tainting tt waa the commencement of
her last (tines# Her »• oaettluibm ap
peared tu have entirely brohea up, and
all we rssM do was tu pr.nur.g her life
ay a lew man the
|| wae a Moot heail'bieub ag hurl
ness, and one on which even at this
distance of time 1 do not care to dwell.
1 was deeply attached to my wife; In
deed, she was my first and only love
In the sense in which the word Is gener
ally used; but my love and care avail
ed hut little against the forward march
of the Destroyer. For three mouths we
fought against him, hut he came on as
surely and relentlessly as the tide, and
at last the enil was upon us. Before her
death her mind cleared, as the sun
often does in sinking, and she spoke
to me so sweetly, and yet so hopefully,
that her tender words almost broke
my heart. Anil yet it was a happy
death. I have seen many people die,
but I never remember one who waa so
completely borne up across the dark
gulf upon the wings of child-like faith.
All her fears and griefs were for me.
for herself she had none. hen at
last she had kissed her hoy rind hade
him farewell thank Heaven he Was
not old enough to understand what It
meant and said her last word to roe,
she sent for Fanny and kissed her too.
"Good-bye. my love," she said; “you
must look after Geoffrey and the hoy
when I am gone," and then, as though
a sudden Idea struck her, she took tin
girl's hand and placed It lu mine.
"You will Just suit each other," she
said, with a faint smile, and those were
the last words she spoke.
Fanny colored and said nothing I
remember thinking afterward that
most women would have t ried.
And then the end came and left me
broken-hearted.
it was the night after the funeral,
and 1 was walking up anil down my
little study, struggling against a dls
tress that only seemed to further over
whelm me the more I tried to hear up
against it, and thinking with that help
less blttterness that does come upon
uk at such times, wrapping us, as It
were, In a mist of regret, of the many
little things 1 might have done to make
my dear wife happier while she lived,
and of the Irreparable void her loss
had left In my life. It was well for her,
I was sure of that, for what can be
better than to sleep? Hut In those
days that certainty of a future In
dividual existence, which I have now
been able through my discoveries to
reach to, was not present with me. It
only loomed as a possibility at the end
of an untraveled vista. She was
gone, and no echo came from
where she was. llow could 1 know
that I had not lost her forever?
Or, even If she lived In some dim
heaven, that I too should make toy
way thither, and find her unchanged;
for remember that change is death!
It has all passed now. 1 am as sure
as I write these words that at no dis
tant. date I shull Btand face to face
with her again, as 1 am that the earth
travels round the sun. The science
that has unalterably demonstrated the
earth's course has also vindicated that
inborn Instinct of humanity so much
attacked of late days, and demonstrated
its truth to me beyond the possibility
of doubt. Hut I did not know It then.
"I shall never see her again, never!"
I cried In my agony, "and 1 have noth
ing left to live for!”
“Perhaps you will not," said a quiet
voice at my elbow, "but you have your
child and your work left to live for.
And if there Is anything in your dis
covery, you will see her through all the
ages.”
It was Fanny, who had come into
the room without my noticing It, and
somehow her presence and her words
brought comfort to me.
(TO US OoSTINUSD.t
Strong rutin.
The shell-less limpet pulls 1,984 time*
Its own weight when In the air, and
about double when measured in the
water. Fleas pull 1,493 times their own
dead weight. The Mediterranean cock
le, Venus verrucosa, can exert a pulling
power equal to 2,071 times the weight
of its own body. So great is the power
possessed by the oyster that to open It
a force equal 1,319.5 times the weight
of Its shell-less body Is required. It
the human being iiosscgsed strength a*
great In proportion as that of them
shell-nun, the average man would d<
able to lift the enormous weight ol
2,976,000 pounds, pulling in the Harm
degree as a limpet. And if the man
pulled In the name proportionate de
gree as the cockle he would sustain a
weight of no less than 3,106.600 pounds
Auslrslls's l’o|»ulatloB.
The New South Wales government
statist estimates that the population
ol the seven Australasian colonies at
the end of 1K96 was 4.323.171. showing
an lucreuse of 613,366 over Ihe censor
of 1K»1. There Is an Increase fur New
South Wales of 14H tier cent, for Vic
toria of 3 per cent, for Queensland ol
2<i per cent, for Mouth Australia of 12
per cent, for Western Australia of 171
per rent, for Tasmania of 13 per cent
and for New Zealand of 14 per cent
(hiring 1696 the population of New
South Wales Increased by 19,710 That
Victoria decreased by 6.663 The Vic
toria sialiat report# that the p>pu
latlon of Melbourne ha* dr< reused by
42,466 since the tensua of 1691.
•la|>Ui krttcle «r t spurt.
A curious article of report (rum tin
t'hitMsc port of Pub hot ntuiillsi it
the llrlttah couuul there la dried III
aids I he Koropeafc »utuperiitg to
•( the I’uhhot plum on a little miiii
pun*. Anita hla *t|io*liiun paaiituv aid
Ir marred by the ho •••Hi (or a bright
hu.kuUl tor the hulea d .« by the au
tleea wiHidltn* un the very n
din* #1 tfctt# lllll# lAHlttui »u lit# |iti
I I » V |4C - t«
t fee M| Ml
HfilUtH Yt*» ### mmk fn#
iimiHI#•' « M l4*4l«i II w
i, I I t ht 4 UjM< '
TALMAGES SERMON.
THE CAUSE OF RIGHTEOUS
NESS FLOURISHING.
A DI«ronr«« from the Test: l.»m*nt»
tlonn, Chapter Ilf, lerne.’IO "Wliere
fore lloth » I.UIhit Man <’o inpUlo ?'*
Better Hays Are Near at llatitl.
CHEERFUL Infer- !
rogatory In the
moat melancholy
hook of the HI hie!
Jeremiah wrote no
many sad things
that we have a
word named after
him, and when any
thing la surcharged
with grief and com
plaint. we call It a
jeremiad. Hut In my text Jeremiah, as
by a sudden Jolt, wakens us to a thank
ful spirit,
Our blessings are so much more nu
merous than our deserts that he la sur
prlaed that anybody should ever find
fault. Having life, and with it a thou
sand blessings, It ought to liuali Into
perpetual silence everything like criti
cism of the dealings of God. "Where
fore doth a living man complain?'
There arc three prescriptions by
which I believe that our Individual and
national finances may he cured of their
present depression. The first is cheer
ful conversation und behavior. I have
noticed that the people who are most
vociferous against the day in which we
live are those who arc In comfortable
circumstances, I have made Inquiry
of those persona who are violent In
their Jeremiads against these times, and
I asked them^ "JNow after all, ate
you not making a living?" Afler some
hesitation and coughing and clearing
their throat three or four times, they
say stammeringly, "Y-e-s,” 80 that
with a great multitude of people It Is
not a question of getting u livelihood,
*/ui iiir/ nir mnntiununi ii" uubv
cannot make a* much money as they
would like to make. Th»y have only
two thousand dollars In the bank,where
they would like to have four thousand.
They can clear In a year only Wve
thousand dollars, when they would like
to clear ten thousand, or thing* come
out Just even. Or, In their trade they
get three dollars a day when they wish
they could make four or five. "Oh!"
says some one, "are you not aware of
the fact that there ts a great popula
tion out of employment, und there are
hundreds of good families of this coun
try who are at their wits' end, not
knowing wnich way to turn?" Yes,
1 know It better than any man In pri
vate life can know that sad fact, for
It comes constantly to my eye and ear.
But who Is responsible for this state of
things?
Much of that responsibility I put up
on men In comfortable circumstances,
who, by an everlasting growling, keep
public confidence depressed and new en
terprises from starting out and new
houses from being built. You know
vpry well that one despondent man can
talk fifty men Into despondency, while
one cheerful physician can wake up In
to exhilaration a whole asylum of hy
pochondriacs. It Is no kindness to the
poor or the unemployed for you to Join
in this deploratlon. If you
have not the wit and the
common sense to think of something
cheerful to say, then keep silent. There
Is no man that can he Independent of
depressed conversation. The medical
Journals are ever Illustrating It. I was
reading of five men who resolved that
they would make an experiment and see
what they could do In the way of de
pressing a stout, healthy man, and they
resolved to meet him at different points
in his Journey; and as he stepped out
from his house in the morning In ro
bust health, one of the five men met
him and said, "Why, you look very sick
today. What Is the matter?” He said,
"I am In excellent health; there 1s
nothing the matter.” But passing
down the street, he began to examine
his symptoms, and the second of the
five men met him and said, "Why, how
bad you do look." "Well,” he replied,
"I don't feel very well.” After a while
the third man met him, and the fourth
man met him, and the fifth man came
up and said, wny, you look as If you
had had the typhoid fever for six
weeks. What Is the matter with you?"
And the man against whom tho strata
gem had been laid went home and died.
And If you meet a man with perpetual
talk about hard times, and bankruptcy
and dreadful winters that are to come,
you break down his courage. A few
autumns ago. as the winter was com
ing on, people said, "We shall have a
terrible winter. The poor will he fro
ten out this winter.1' There was some
thing In the large store of scorns that
the squirrels had gathered, and some
thing In Ihe phases of the moon, and
something In other purtends.that made
you certain we were going to have a
hard winter. Winter came, it wtta
the mildest one within my memory and
wilhtn yours. Alt that wittier long |
do not think there was an Icicle that
hung through ths day from the eavea
of the bouse (to you prophesied false
ly. last winter was coming, and the
people said. "We shall have unparal
leled suffering smong the pccor, It will
he a dreadful winter," dure enough it
was a cold winter, hut there was more
large hearted charities than ever be
fore poured out on the country; better
provision made tor the poor, so that
there have wen * tree of winters when
the 9*H*r b»*l «i lt;*r»l*r Hih# itati ib#>
4i4 tail w5M*r W#to*b#f prt»t»b«tl ny
to# #Ml bat* fr ‘*U tbl* tuuimrr tobbb
tolll bill lb# liiit iMUk ,N»»to. t*< t»v t*ll
>"«I4 y»»*4 bat* H**»J ttl*** lb#
«#tolb#r itol I Is* Um# ttf# tying
tblto Him#
Tb# miib) yrttt?i|4t*4i M lb#
vuibiv I IftiiMb) 4*«»•*#* I#
t'brtfttlto* Uni 4f to»#to*lt $t
ittiy »ii*t«> 4i4 Miitift #
ttfitolto «f lb#lf i#*«*»• Wv
are parsimonious! We keep back from
God that which belongs to him, and
when we keep back anything from God
he takes what we keep back, and he
takes more. He takes it by storm, by
sickness, by bankruptcy, by any one
of the ten thousand ways which he can
employ. The reason many of you are
cramped In business Is because you
have never learned the lesson of Chris
tian generosity. You employ an agent.
You give him a reasonable salary; and,
lo! you find out thnt he Is appropriat
ing your funds besides the salary.
What do you do? Discharge him.
Well, we are God's agents. He puts
In our hands rertuln moneys. Part are
to he ours. Part are to he his. Sup
pose we take all, what then? He will
discharge ns; he will turn us over to
financial disasters, and take the trust
away from us. The reason that great
multitudes are not prospered In busi
ness Is simply because they have been
withholding from God that which be
longs to him, The rule Is, give, and
you will receive. Administer liberally,
and you shall have more to administer.
I am In full sympathy with tin- man
who was to he baptized by Immersion,
and some one said, "You had better
leave your pocket book out. It will get
wet.” "No/* said he, "l want to go
down under the wave with everything.
I want to consecrate my property and
all to God.” And so he was baptized.
What we want In this country Is moro
baptized pocket books.
I hud a relative whose business
seemed lo ho failing. Here a loss, and
there u loss, and everything was both
ering, perplexing and annoying him.
He sat down one day and said, "God
must have a controversy with mabout
something. I believe I haven't given
enough to the cause of Christ.” And
there and then bo took out bis check
book and wrote a large check for a mis
sionary society. He told ine, “That
was the turning point. In my business.
Kver since then I have been prosper
ous. From that day, aye, from that
v**rv Imur V itnw (lid chAnKf-." Ali'l.
mire enough, he went on, and gathered
a fortune. The only safe Investment
that a man can make In this world Is
In the cause of Christ. If a man give
from a superabundance, Ood may or
he may not respond with a blessing;
but If a man give until he feels It, If a
man give until It fetches the blood,
If a man give until his selfishness
cringes and twists and cowers under
It ho will get not only spiritual pro
fit, but he will get paid hack In bard
cash or In convertible securities. We
often see men who are tight fisted who
seem to get along with their Invest
ments very profltalnotwithstanding
all their parsimony. But wait. Hud
denly In that man's history everything
goes wrong. His health falls, or his
reason Is dethroned, or a domestic
curse smites him, or a midnight sha
dow of some kind drops upon his soul
and upon his business. What Is the
matter? Ood Is punishing him for his
small heartodnes*. He tried to cheat
Ood and Ood worsted him. Ho that
one of the recipes for the cure of In
dividual and national finances Is more
generosity. Where you bestowed one
dollar on the cause of Christ, give two.
Ood loves to be trusted, and he Is
very apt to trust back again. He says:
"That man knows how to handle
money; he shall have more money to
handle.” And very soon the property
that was on the market for a great
while gets a purchaser, and the bond
that was not worth more than fifty
cents on a dollar goes to par, and the
opening of a new street doubles the
value of his house, or In any wuy of a
million God blessea him.
People quote as a joke what Is a di
vine promise: “Cast thy bread upon
the waters, and It will return to thee
after many days.” What did God mean
by that? There Is an Illusion there. In
I-Sypt. when they sow the corn. It Is
at a time when the Nile Is overflowing
Its banks and they sow the seed corn
on the waters, and as the Nile begins
to recede this seed corn strikes in the
earth and comes up a harvest and that
Is the allusion. It seems as If they aro
throwing the corn away on the waters,
but after a while they gather it up In
a harvest. Now says God In his word:
“Cast thy bread upon the waters, and
It shall come back to thee after many
days,” It may seem to you that you
arc throwing It away on charities; hut
It will yield a harvest of green and gold
- a harvest on earth and a harvest In
heaven. If men could appreciate that
and act on that, we would have no
more trouble about individual or na
tional finances
Prescription the third, for the cure
of all out Individual and national fi
nancial dlatresses; n great spiritual
awakening. It la no more theory. The
merchants of this country were post
lively demented with the monetary «*
cltenu nt In 1S57. There never before
nor since has been such a slate of fi
nancial depression as there was at that
Blue. A revival came, and five hundred
thousand people wers I aim Into the
niUfkMI'111 ill ilUM, TV MHI «
revival? The grandest Bnsnclal pros
perity we have ever had In this Woutt
iry. The finest fortune*. (he laigeat
fortune* In the I'alted Htatea. hava
been made at are l*S>7. "Well," you any,
"what haa apirtlual Improvement and
revival to do with monetary Improve
•Merit and revival?" M»ph to do The
tsilglon of Jean* I'hrlat haa a direct
t< adeney to make men honest and
sober and truth telling, and are not
honesty and sobriety and trulh-telltag
aivHuro* of material prosperity? If
se mold hats aa awakening la thw
country na la the daya of Jonathan M
wsrda of Morthsmptc-tt. as la the data
si f*r I'ls lkt of tUsklng Midge, aa la
the day* of |v tlrlla of ttoatim the
• hols land would rouse to a hlghst
mufti twee, and with that mural tons
the hoor.it bustwesw enterprise of the
country w old war up Von gay a
great ssabcatHg haa an inBusto* upon
tbs fwtttrw world I tell yon it has a
direct mine re upon the Btaacta*
sgtfvre ef thla world The rsltglon of
Christ is no foe to successful business;
It is Its best friend. And If there
should r«mo 3 great awakening In thin
country, and all the banks and insur
ance companies and stores and offices
and shops should close up for two
weeks, and do nothing but attend to
the public worship of Almighty Hod—
after such a spiritual vacation the land
would wake up to such financial pros
perity as we have never dreamed of.
Godliness is profitable for the life that
now la as well as for that which Is to
come. But, my friends, do not put so
much emphasis on worldly success as
to let your eternal affairs go at loose
ends. I have nothing in say against
money. The more money you get the
better. If It comes honestly and goes
usefully. For the lack of It. sickness
dies without medicine, and hunger
finds its coffin In an empty bread-tray,
and nakedness shivers for clothes and
fire. All this canting tirade against
money as though It had no practical
use, when I hear u man Indulge In It,
It makes me think the best heaven for
him would be an everlasting poor
house! No, there Is a practical use In
money; hut while we admit that, wo
must also admit that It cannot nAtlsfy
the soul, that It cannot pay for our fer
riage across the Jordan of death, that
It cannot unlock the gate of heaven
for our Immortal soul. Ycf there are
men who act ns though packs of bonds
and mortgages could be traded off for
a mansion In heaven, and ns though
gold were a legal tender In that land
where It Is so common that they mako
pavements out of It. Salvation by
f'hrlst Is the only salvation. Treasures
In heaven arc the only Incorruptible
treasures. Hava you ever ciphered out
that sum In loss and gain, "What shall
it profit a man If he gain the whole
world and lose his soul?" You may
wear fine apparel now. but the winds
of death will flutter It like rags. Home
spun and a threadbare coat have some
times been the shadow of robes white
in the blood of the laimb. All the
rnlnen of Australia and Brazil, strung
■ In one carcanet, are not worth to you
as much as the pearl of great price.
You remember, I suppose, some year*
ago, the shipwreck of the Central
America? A storm came on that ves
sel. The surges tramped the deck and
swept, down through the hatches, and
there went up a hundred-voiced death
shriek. The foam on the jaw of the
wave. The pitching of the steamer,
| as though It would leap a mountain.
The glare of the signal rockets. The
long cough of the steam-pipes. The
hiss of extinguished furnaces, The
walking of God on the wave, o. It was
u stupendous spectacle.
So, there are men who go on In life
a fine voyage they are making out of
It. All In well, till some euroclydon of
business disaster comes upon them,
and they go down. The bottom of this
commercial sea Is strewn with the
shattered hulks. But, because your
property goes, shall your soul go? O,
no! There Is coming a more stupen
dous shipwreck after a while. This
world—God launched It 6,000 years ago,
and It Is sailing on; but one day It will
stagger at the cry of "lire!” and the
timbers of the rocks will burn, and
the mountains flame like masts and
the clouds like sails In the Judgment
hurricane. God will take a good many
off the deck, and others ou- of the
berths, where they nro now sleeping In
Jesus. How many shall go down? N6
one will know until it Is announced
In heaven one day: "Shipwreck of a
world! So many millions saved! So
many millions drowned!” Because
your fortuues go, because your house
goes, because all your earthly possess
ions go, do not let your soul go! May
the Lord Almighty, through the blood
of the everlasting covenant, save your
souls.
The Dully Ta»k.
We are not apt enough to think ol
our dally work as the Good SUepherd’i
pasture field. Wo are too apt to giv<
heed to a miserable distinction between
the sacred and secular and to seek tc
get out from what we call the seculai
Into what wo call the sacred, that w«
may And spiritual pasture fluids
• • • This Is the sacred service;
this Is God’s work; praying, commun
ing, preaching, buying, selling brick
laying, uuma **mnnu».
true, honest, Just, pure, lovely, of good
report, which God's providence hat
trust Into your hund to do—doing then)
for God's sake aud in Him name, th«
shining motive for them God's glory
• • • The dally toll Is a real spirit
ual pasture field; and the best of herb
age we will find In It. If >ve will have
It so. If we will take Into It the motlvr
of pleasing God, and so of doing tn II
our very best. How the spiritual lift
may nobly grow In this pasture field
1 of dally duty done from u dlvlu* tin
! pulse! Way land Hoyt. 1» l>
DMMtN a«*l t'hareh Uelag.
The fault may lie In some with
the minister, but rnueh more often the
fault Is with the fathers and mother*.
In the matter of church attendance the
parents and the pastor must combine.
Ihe parr at* should require and eipeel
1 the children to accompany them to
God * house aa much as lo sit at ihelr
table for Ihelr daily food la their own
he were. The pastor should eitdeavup
I «. attract thv >uuna to chut h u/ Utah*
tug hi* sermon* simple la language,
earnest In d*ll**i * and in’«f,-cting with
| llluatratiohs Very lea tertivaa* are
at to be preached at all whtau are tn*
tetly beyond the cwsapriktsNut uf aa
’ Mettle buy Id year* old, Grown pets'
, pie ta turn, reitsb freell. Vivid simple,
tara*«l, ptactlcsl proa* ulag a* to u a
' a their children dec Theodor* I,, t vi y«
l»r.
la a home tor ws4*st *«a la U -a«
d- u there at* *vtd to be tctdcl eat*
ccrally graduaiee and medical keen,
a«4 a (bitibrnan who ran thr -ugh
tbo.coo ta t hr** yaar*.
