| My Fellow laborer. \
* MMH \ J
i By H. RIDER HAGGARD. J
riu«h«*»»
CHAPTER VI — (Coxtini so.)
Exactly nix months from that (lay my
hook, "The Secret of Life," appeared,
and everybody will remember the ex
citement that ensued. Of course, prop
ositions so startling were violently at
tacked, but I only smiled and waited;
for I knew that my conclusion* could
no more be seriously disputed than the
law of gravitation. And now the at
tackers are all silent, and mankind (I
say it wthont false modesty and with
out pride) bleeees the man who
has been the means of demonstrating
the glorious cause and objects of our
hitherto inexplicable existence, and of
supplying the key to the mystery of
life, and the agony of death, that is,
as the religions foreshadowed, but the
portal to the larger and more perfect
life. Yen! My work Is done, and well
done, and I can die In peace, knowing
that even here I shall never be for
gotten!
A week after the book appeared, I
received from Penny this rather weak
ly worded letter:
"Dear Geoffrey.” It began, "so you
have found It! And you have had the
generality to publicly acknowledge my
whare In the work; and my name will
go down to future generations linked
with youra! It Is more than I deserve,
though It ia just what 1 should have ex
pected from you. Mad I known how
Dear we were to xuoeese I would nev
er have gone away: I am very wealthy,
and, In a email, unsatisfactory fashion
powerful, also, as I told you I should
he, and aball be more so soon. Joseph
has got Into Parliament, where, not
withstanding the competition, I think
that his entire want of principle ought
to carry him a long way. And yet.
Geoffrey, 1 miss you as much as ever,
and almost long for the old days. It Is
bard to have to mix with a set of fools,
who smile and gabble, but cannot even
understand what It Is that we, or rath
er you, have done. 1 was so sorry to
hear about John. Well, we must each
to our own fate. Good-bye.
"FANNY.”
I returned no answer to tlila letter,
nor have I ever seen Fanny since, and
I hope I never shall see her again! Of
course, everybody has a right to look
after bit or her own Interests, and on
this ground I do not like to think too
hardly of her. I used to believe that
there wee a great deal of prejudiced
nonsense talked about, women, and
that they were aa capable of real and
good work and of devotion to a single
end as we men are. Many and many
is tbe argument that I have had with
Fanny herself on this point, for she
was wool scornfully to declare that
marriage was the average woman's one
object In life, and the education of u
family the one thing she was capable
of carrying out. In a satisfactory man- |
ner. Hut now I confess that my bellet ;
is shaken, though I know that it is un
Just to Judge a great and widely dIf .
fering class from the experience of an
individual. And, after all. she was well
within her right, and it Is impossible
to blame her. I had absolutely no
claim upon her, and she was undoubt
edly wise to provide for herself in life,
when so good an opportunity came In
her way. It was a little abrupt, and
her explanations were rather cynical;
but 1 have no cause or complaint. 1
<-ould not marry her myself; why
should I have objected to her marrying
anybody else—even that young man
And yet, I only say It to show how
weak I am, 1 am still fond of Fanny
Hlde-Thompson,and Htill feel sad when
I think of her sudden and final depart
ure. Next to my wife's death. It has
been the greatest shock of my life. If
she had stopped with me, she should
have had her full shure in my triumph,
and of all the honors and good things
that have followed on Its heels. She
overcalculated herself, she saw too far,
and yet not far enough. But I dare nay
that, after all, this is but another form
of the peraonal vanity to which I fear
I am constitutionally liable, and, as
such, a weakness to be mortified, es
pecially when a man Is hobbling as fast
as I am toward the quiet church-yard
sates. Well, this Is the true history of
uiy relations with Fanny Denelly
(TUB BNI>.)
*A A A d 4 *
| retaliation!
^ A short Htory Concluding in Our \ru. £
IHTKN^ Mr.^Ma*
•••try! i^t rue try
to prove to you |
am not as guilty as
you think "
"I know, of
course not, nu
gcntlentau Intends
to be dlshouest.
toll ll 1* tti b*
'“*** gretled that public
opinion will nut
tea It In lb-1 light replied the Junior
partner of aa extensive no ic.iuille Brut
in the ally of sol loo*
Too trssi If you. knowing me for
lbe last tan years will hoi believe mo.
bow cab I atpaci aught rise from
strangers’ llara I bsv< been under
your eye, with tha etui «r of the luniks
for this lea* UttHt. »•! never tuve
fat lad to *t»e entlra abll»’.otb.« tl, .u
until sow If you had hot discovered
I Ms I should bay* lores able to refund
lbs s moon l be bus lb* end of
tbs yasr. I hsosr tbal 1 did wrong
but Is tha frassy of my I did
god tbish it wra** Mr Marbu> < bars
many 1 do *<*4 sipuas at* l« lb* »>■'
! Only keep this knowledge you hava
gained until January, then, if I have
not returned the amount, with Inter
est, I will not ask for further forbear
ance," pleaded the young man.
"Everett Morse, It matters little what
I believe. I care not whether you are
Innocent or guilty. Kate has thrown
you in my power, and I glory in it. I
have no love for you. Years ago yon
crossed my path, and have almost, If
not entirely, blasted my hopes of hap
piness. Clara Dayton smiled on me.
until she met you. Since then you have
occupied the position I had hoped to
gain. Promise to leave town, to resign
all hopes of Clara's hand, and I will
have mercy. Hear me out: I will give
you as much time as you wlah to re
turn the money, and will also make an
arrangement to send you to Europe, on
business for the firm. 1 had Intended
going myself, hut this affair has
(hanged m.v plans somewhat. Now,
sir, you have my answer. You must
either conclude to give up your 'lady
love,' or stand before the world a
felon."
"Mercy! Mr, Marbtiry, Is ibis mercy?
Oh, heaven pity me' How can I give
her up! You do not mean It!"
"When Clara Dayton hears the man
who has sought her love stands before
the world branded with dishonesty, she
will most likely release yon from this
task. I will be a severe blow to her
proud nature."
"She will never believe It. I will go
to her and tell her all. Mr. Marbtiry,
let me tell you how I was so sorely
tempted, and yielded. You have heard
that when my father died, lie left his
affairs very much embarrassed. The
old hom#»it<»ad wax mnrtaaaad Thin
bad been a great grief to my mother.
She thought of losing this home, most
valuable for the loved associations con
nected with It. You know, too, that my
brother and I have been trying to re
deem this property. The last note was
due, I could not meet the payment.
This has be-*n a trying year to me. My
mother's Illness has very much lu
crased my expenses; < then, worse still,
my brother's misfortune In breaking
his right arm, has of course prevented
bis attending to his engraving. Ho the
whole burden has been on me. I felt
sure that as soon as Abbott could re
turn to his work. I should be able to
return the loan, as I considered It.
Fatal mistake! I now see that any
swerving from the right path Is cer
tain to bring Its punishment. But will
you not, for the sake of my poor
widowed mother, spare me? It will kill
her to hear I am even suspected of dis
honesty, she Is so feeble now. Do not
demand this terrible sacrifice of me.
But Just! be generous! be merciful!''
" TIs useless, sir. I have told you
on what terms I can treat with you. I
love Clara more than my own life, and
cannot relinquish the chance of win
ning her. It will be Impossible for you
to remove the suspicion that will fol
low you. The fact of your employer's
want of confidence In you will be suf
ficient to condemn you. Accept my
terms. Go to Europe without seeing
Clara uguin. Take your own lime to
return the money, and at the end of
one year, if I have failed to win her,
you are free to seek her anew, and I
will give you my word never to men
tion this affair again."
"I see loo plainly I have no other
chance. If Clara loves me. as I have
hoped, she will remain constant, re
gardless of appearances, for that time.
Thank heaven, I have not sought to
bind her by an engagement. Every
chance is against me, though. What
will she think of my leaving without
telling her good-bye, even?"
“Iiiuf U'hul I vL-iuh
do not love her any too devotedly. I
will take your regrets to her. of •pres
sure of business, and time,' and such
little excuses. Of course she will be
mortified, and disappointed, anil In this
state of her feelings 1 hope to triumph.
Once mine. 1 do not doubt being able
to make her love me. Such love as
mine must meet a response."
“Be it so. George Marbury. but
there's a future, thank God. A time
when we shall both stand before a Just
Judge. Are you not fearful you may
yet need the mercy you now deny nie?
If not on earth, you surely will above."
• •*••*
"Clara, my daughter, why will you
treat Mr. Marbury with so much indif
ference? He Is a very fine young man
and seems very much attached to you.
There was a time when I thought you
liked him a little. I think you thought
more of Kverett Morse than he de
served. It is very evident. If he had
loved you. he would not have gone
away without saying a word. Banish
him from yuur mind, and try to smile
on one whose long devotion merits
some kindness from y ou. '
"Mother. I cannot help thinking
there la some mystery relative to Kver
ett's leaving as he did i feel pr-rfei-t
ly sure be loved me. Kvery word and
action told It plainly Kvery moment
that waa not devoted to business, or
bis mother, be spent With us. We Wert
not engaged, but there was an under
standing between us. only the night
I last saw him he said to me. When I
I rume again I shall bring a ring to
I place on the finger of a certain lady
j fair, anti try to win front her a pr*>iu
j lae, whlth will make me one of th>
happiest men ou earth tils inouthi
: have passed sice ■ then, and not a word
from him. That he Is living au*1
, well. I know fot Mi May bury told ti>
j they had a letter from him by the last
I steamer What van he no- in moth* i *
' There la no doubt *»f one thing h*
j has trilled with vote .ltd Ihiiefoi -
| not worthy of one thought or regret
1 Clara, Mr Marbury has spoken to in*
, and asked my approval and indue to*
j In hta favor I believe he will ntah*
j you n hind, loving husband He .«
1 wealthy sad will pU*e you in a poa
Hon worthy of you I wish vary mink
yon would accept him. You know how
hard a struggle it is for me to keep up
a respectable appearance. Your broth
er must continue bis studies, which
are very expensive. After he gradu
ates It will probably be a long time be
fore he can get sufficient practice to
enable him to help us. Our little is
dwindling fast away, and it is abso
lutely necessary for you to take sotno
thought for the future."
“Hava patience, mother, dear; bear
with me a little longer! When an
other six months have passed away,
if I have not heard from Everett, then
T will relieve your mind and make Mr.
Marbtiry as happy as a withered heart
can. I.*t me have a year, mother, to
recover from my lost love. Custom,
you know, allows that time to those
whose hearts are with the dead. If
Everett Is false, then he Is dead to
me. I will, no doubt, like Mr. Marbtiry
very well; as a friend. I respect him
very much now. You may bid him
hope, but nothing more, Just yet.’’
Days, weeks, months rolled rapidly
past, but no tidings came to the anxi
ous, waiting heart. Still the dead si
lence continued.
Two weeks only remain of the allot
ted time. Never bad the days passed
so slowly to George Marbtiry.
Oh, the dreadful suspense! What If.
after all his plotting, he should fall
to win her! He must make another
appeal to Mrs. Dayton.
All Is Joy now. She consents to be
Ills. A few more days pass by, and, at
length, but one remains. But what
cares he! mending before the altar,
clasping the band of her he would
have rlaked salvation to gain, he Is
supremely happy.
(TO BE COSTINCEII.)
CREOLES OF NEW ORLEANS.
<»•«»«* •'«,n»«r»»tUn» Is Tbslr Dial In
••Islilng quslllr.
“One of (be moat distinguishing qual
ities of the creole Is his conservatism,''
writes Ruth McKnery Htnart in the la
dles' Home Journal. "Hla family tradi
tions are of obedience and respect. It
begins in his church and ends In his
wine cellar. He cares not for protest
ing faiths or new vintages. His relig
ion and bis wines are matters of tradi
tion. Good enough for Ills ancestors,
are they not good enough for him and
his children? His most delightful home
Is situated behind a heavy battened
gate, somber and forbidding in its out
ward expression, asking nothing of the 1
passing world, protecting every sacred- i
ness within. The creole lives for his 1
lamlly—ln it. The gentle old dame, his
greataunt, perhaps, and nenafne to half
of his children, after living her shel
tered and contented life of threescore
and ten years behind the great green J
gate that opens as a creaking event at !
; the demand of the polished brass
knocker, will tell you with a beautiful
pride that she has never been on the (
American side of her own city —above ! ,
Canul street. If she will admit you as !
her guest to her Inland garden, within ,
her courtyard gate- and he sure she j
will not do so unless you present tin- '
questionable credentials- If she will j
call her stately tlgnoned negress, Made- j
lalne. Celeste, Marie or Zullme, who 1 ,
answers her In her own tongue, to ]
fetch a chair for you Into the court be- j,
side the oleander tree and the crape ' ,
myrtle—If, seeing you seated, she hid ,
the maid of the tlgnon to further serve 1
you with orange flower sirup or thlrn
ble glasses of liqueur or aulsette from a j
shining old sliver tray, you will, per
haps, feel that the great battened door
has been, Indeed, a conserver of good
old ways, and that Its office Is a worthy
one, in preserving the sweet flavor of a
picturesque hospitality, whose old
world fragrance is still unspotted by
innovations and untainted by emula
tion or contact.
METHODS, HERE AND ABROAD.
Huy* of Ht«*«rlnK Uoata In KiigUnd,
Kronre mim! Ufriuuny.
A comparison of the different meth
ods of doing what is practically the
same thing In various parts of the
world is both Interesting and untuning
to the thoughtful observer, says Cas
Hler's Magazine. On American ferry
boats the import is well known of the
"ting-ting" or "Jllgle-Jlugle” of the bell
by which the mun In the wheelhouue
communicates with his fellow-mortal
in the engine room. On the Thames,
however, It would he considered practi
cally impossible to convey Informstion
in this manner, und the captains of the
small puddle steamers on that stream
stand on the paddle-boxes und slug
out "Kuue er!” "Hack ’er!" etc.,
apparently to nobody In particular,
while these Interesting remarks are
' promptly repeated In shrill tones bv u
| small boy Into a speaking lube which
rommunlratea with the lower rcglous.
| On the Hein*.'in France, this process is
, simplified snd u large truiupet-shaped
mouthpiece flares out In front of the
man at the wheel and he yells hla com
mand* Into this funnel, the other end
of which is supposed to reach the en
gineer. The targe steamers on th.
It bine. In tier many, are controlled, not
’ by tile usual wheel plait'd m the wheel
house lorwaid. but by a very large
wheel on a vertical axle, placed right
amidships upon an elevated platform
or bridge, and several men pass Hi*
handles from right t» left, or upon im
eastun trot round In s -trele and It I
would iloilMks* be considered a sec too*
temptation of t*rw« blear*, or at least a
telle* tion upon the fntherlnnd. if no
tills were to attempt tu eoustrucl a
IIi,ii,e ei*uM*t with the ordinary form
of steering gear
1 see that the magazines ait at rang
; tug to get oat some very fnney ICaster
numbers. raid ah*' Yea, ‘ replied
her husband and so. i suppose, nr*
he people who writ* the pries tsg* tor I
spiiag nllHWtl Wiibingtoa lltnr
TALMAGK’S SERMON.
A STORM AT SEA LAST SUN
DAY’S SUBJECT.
"A ad Ibara Were Al*e «|th Him
Other l.lltlv thlp«. anil Thera trim
a Ureat ntoraa of Wlad*'—Tram Murk
IV. Vera* 3d.
J1HKKIAK. Galilee.
Ueuuoaarel —three
names for the aame
lake. No other gem
ever had ao beau
tiful a neltlug. It
lay In a aeene of
great. luxuriance:
the surrounding
hllla high, terraced,
aloped, groved, ao
many hanging gar
den* of beauty; the wutera rumbling
dowa between rorku of gray and red
lltr.eetonr, flaahlng from the hllla. and
bounding Into the aea. On the ahore
were caul lea, armed towera, Roman
bathe, everything attractive and beau
tiful; all atylee of vegetation In ahort
er apace than tu almoat any other apace
to all the world, from the palm tree
of the foreat to the tree* of a rigorous
climate.
It eeemed aa If the lx>rt! had launch
ed one wave of beauty on all the aeene,
and It hung and *wung from rock and
hill and oleander. Roman gentlemen
In pleaaure boat* sailing the lake, and
countrymen In flah-amacka coming
down to drop their neU, paea each
Mher with uod and about and laughter,
or swinging Idly at their moorings. Oh,
what a wonderful, what u beautiful
I.L.I
It seems as If ire shall have a quiet
night. Not a leaf winked In the air;
not a ripple disturbed the face of Oeu
neaaret; hut there seeme to be a little
excitement. up ihe beach, and we hast
en to see what It Is, and we find It an
embarkation.
Prom the waatern shore a flotilla
puahlng out; not a squadron, or dead
ly armament, nor clipper with valuable
merchandise, nor piratle veeaels ready
to destroy everything they could seise;
hut a flotilla, bearing messengers of
life, and light, and peace. Chrlat Is In
he front of the boat, ills disciples
ire In a smaller boat. Jesus, weary
with much speaking to large multI
udes, la put Into somnolence by the
’oeking of the waves. If there was
iny motion at. all, the ahlp was easily
‘Igbted; If the wind passed from one
tide, from the starboard to the lar
board, or from the larboard to the star
board, the boat would rock, and by the
[entleness of the motion putting the
Waster aaleep. And they extempor
ised a pillow made out of a fisherman's
out. I think no sooner is Christ pros
rate, and his head touching the pll
ow, than he Is sound asleep. The
breezes of the lake run their Angers
hrough the locks of the worn sleeper,
md the boat rises and falls like a
leeping chlid on (be bosom of u sleep
tig mother.
The subject in the fl.st place Im
ireeses me with the fact that it Is very
mportant to have (,'hrlst In the ship;
or all those boats would have gone
o the bottom of Meuncsaret If Christ
tad not been present. Oh, what a les
ion for you and for me to learnt What
tver voyage we undertake, Into what
tver enterprise we start, let us always
lave Christ in the ship. Many of you
n these days of revived commerce arc
itarting out In new financial enter
prises: I bid you good cheer. Do all
tou can do. Do it on as high a plane
is possible. You have no right to be
. ..1._ < _ ti... .. 1.1 ... it __ .... *
ui admiral of the navy. You have no
right to be a colonel of a regiment if
you can command a brigade-, you have
no right to he engineer of a boat on
river-banka, or near the coast, If you
::an take the ocean eteamer from New
York to Liverpool. All you can do with
utmost tension of body, mind and soul,
you are bound to do; but oh! have
Christ In every enterprise. Christ In
every voyage. Christ In every ship.
There are men who ask (iod to help
them at the start of great enterprises.
He has been with them In the past;
no trouble can overthrow them; the
storms might come down from the top
of Mt. Mention, and lash Oennesaret
Into foam and Into agony, but It could
not hurt them. Rut here Is another
man who starts out In worldly enter
prise, and he depends upon the uncer
tainties of this life. He has no Ood to
help him. After awhile the storm
comes, and tosses off the musts
of the ship; be puts out bis life
boat; the sheriff and the auctioneer
try to hetp him off; they cau't help
bint off; be must go down; no Christ
In the ship. Here are youug men Just
starting out In life. Your life will be
made up of aunahlne and shadow. There
may be In It arctic blasts or tropical
tornadoes; 1 know not what Is before
you. but I know tf you have Christ with
you all shall be well.
You may seem to get aloug without
the religion of Christ while everything
goes smoothly hit after awhile, when
sorrow havers over the soul, when the
waves of trial dash clear over the hur
ricane deck, and the howsprtt Is shiv
ered, and the halliards are swept Into
the aaa, and the gangway Is crowded
with plratteol disaster* oh, what
would you then do without Christ In
the ship* Young man take iital tot
yuur port ton. ilod for your guttle, Hub
tor your help, then all Is well; all la
well for iime, all shall la well forever
ItlsMel Is that yuan who pots in the
laird hts trust lie shall uevci he c 'it
founded,
Hut my subject also Impresses toe
with the fart that when people start
to follow Christ they must sat ekpecl
smooth tailing Thews Jbilplet got
Into the email boats, and I bavs no
doubt they aatd. What a beautiful day
this lt< What n enow>*ii seal What
t bright shy this la' How delightful
T
Is sailing In' thin boat; and as for the
wave* tinder the keel of the boat, why,
they only make the motion of our lit*
j lie lx>at the more dellghlful.'' Hut
: when the winds swept down, and the
nea waa tossed Into wrath, then they
; found that following Christ was not
smooth sailing. So you have found It;
so I have found It. Old you ever no
tice the end of the life of the apostles
■ of Jesus Christ? You would ssy that
If ever men ought to have had a smooth
Ilf*, a smooth departure, then those
men, the disciple* of Jesu* Christ,
ought to have had such a departure
and such a life.
St. James lost hie head. St. Philip
was hung to death on a pillar. St.
Matthew had his life dashed out with
a halbert. Ht. Mark was dragged lo
death through the streets. St. James
the l^'ss was beaten to death with a
fuller's club. St. Thomas was struck
through with a spear. They did not
And following Chriat smooth sailing
Oh, how they were all tossed In Ihe
tempest! John Huss In the Arc; Hugh
Me Kail In Ihe hour of martyrdom; ihe
Alblgenses, the Waldenses, the Scotch
Covenanters did ihgy And It smooth
sailing?
My subject also Impresses me with
the fact that good people sometimes
get very much frightened. In the tones
of these dlselples a* they ruched Into
Ihe beck part of Ihe boat, I And they
are frightened almost to desth. They
say: "Master, rarest thou not that we
perish?” They had no reason lo lie
frightened, for Christ was In the boat.
I suppose If we had been thore we
would have been Just as much uA’rlght
ed. Perhaps more.
In all ages very good people get very
■uch affrighted. It Is often so In our
dey, end men aay, "Why, look at the
had lecture*; look at the Hprltuallatlc
societies; look st the various error*
going over the Church of God; we are
going to founder; the Church la
going to perish; abe la going
down.” Oh, how many good people
are affrighted by triumphant In
iquity In our day. and think the church
of Jesus Chrlat and the cause of right
eousness are going to he overthrown,
and are Juat a* much affrighted ae the
disciples of my teat were affrighted.
Don’t worry, don't fret, aa though In
iquity were going to triumph over
righteousness.
A lion goe* Into a cavern to steep. He
lies down, with hla shaggy metis cov
ering the paw*. Meanwhile the apldera
spin a well across the mouth of the
cavern, and say. ”We have captured
him.” Gossamer thread after gossamer
thread Is spun until the whole front of
the cavern Is covered with the spiders’
web, and the spiders say, “The lion is
done; the lion is fast.” After awhile
the lion has got through sleeping; be
rouses himself, he shakes bis mane, he
walks out Into the sunlight; be doe*
not even know the spiders’ web Is spun,
and with his voice he shakes the moun
tain.
Ho men couie, spinning their sophis
tries and scepticism about Jesus
Christ ; he seems to be sleeping. They
say, ”We have captured the Lord; he
will never come forth again upon the
nation; Chrlat Is captured, and cap
tured forever. Hla religion will never
make any conquest among men.” But
after awhile the Lion of the tribe of
Judah will rouse himself and come
forth to shake mightily the nations.
What Is a spider's web to the aroused
lion? Give truth and error a fair grap
ple. and truth will come off victor.
But there are a great many good peo
ple who get affrighted In other re
spects; they are affrighted In nur day
about revivals. They say, “Oh! this Is
a strong religious gale; we are afraid
the Church of God is going to upHet.
and there are going to be a great many
people brought Into the Church that
are going to be of no use to It;” and
they are affrighted whenever they see
a revival taking hold of the churches.
As though a ship captain • with flve
thousand bushels of wheat for a cargo
should say, some day, coming upon
deck, “Throw overboard all the cargo;"
and the sailors should say, "Why, cap
tain, what do you mean? Throw over
all the cargo?” "Oh,” says the cap
tain, “we have a peck of chuff that has
got Into this flve thousand bushels
wheat, and the only way to get rid of
the chaff is to throw all the wheat
overboard." Now, that Is a great deal !
wiser than the talk of a great many
Christians who want to throw over
board all the thousands and tens of
thousands of souls who have been
brought In through great awakenings.
Throw hII overboard because there Is a
peck of chaff, u quart of chaff, ii pint of
chaff! 1 say, let them stay until the
last day; the laird will divide the chaff
from the wheat.
Oh, that these gales from heaven ;
might sweep through all our churches!
Oh, for such days as Klehard liaxter
suw In Kugland and Kobert McCheyne
saw In Dundee! Oh, for such days as
Jonathan Kdwards saw In Northamp
ton! I have often heard my father tell ,
of the fad that In the early part of this j
century u revival broke out In Hunter -
vtlle, N. J , and some people were very ]
much agitated about it, They said,
"Oh. you are going tu bring too many
people into the church at once;" uud
they sent down tu New HrunswUk to j
get John l.lvlttgstou to stop the re- j
deal, W' tp there was oo bettei soul
tu all the world than John tAvlagston.
tic W»ul Up, lie looked at the revival,
they wanted hint to slot It He stood
in the polpu on the Haldiath and look
m| uicf l hr AtlrdiM AiMlttuiy, ,ih4 he
ThU. hr* ih(< i. tu Mi MMiltty Ihr j
til U»hI, Ih*m tifr hitn ytiti try tu i
*Mi|l II Altti hr a t» AM tlht lillft l*att
(Mil hrtktiiv mm bu At Alt a wry «»M j
\i»4 hr |ift*«l I hr •'Alt AAul IikjA
liulit ttf I hr aAiaII rl)i| i»| Ih# iMl, Ati«l I
U|»A 1*1 II fAll ihruygh !
lb* *«*U lb* thumb aittl
b* 1*14 Ob. iblMI IAI|mAilvAl. Ihmi
Aft UlllHI AUA fAlltMA A«A)T fluty
ttf% «•«> truly t>*« * «m4 h*4i
*11 tAiling AA ifrMlit) AA IhAl (AM 1% !
f*ltlMf tbrvufb Mi) h«u4 UIIiam ,#*. !
talnly. though pcrhapa falHn« w*-r^
slowly.” And the cane kept on falling
through John Livingston's hand. I
religious emotion in the audience »
overpowering, and n»en HaW ft **!..
their doom as the cane kept a
and falling until the knob of th*
struck Mr. Livingston s hand' .
clasped it stoutly and said, ' B'lt
grace of (Jod can stop you, as I sloppe i
that cane;” and then there was A'*"*
ness all through the house at the Tact
of pardon and peace and salvation.
"Well,” said the people after,the Ser*'
Ice, "I guess you had better send Liv
ingston home; he is making the revita
worae." Oh, for the galea from heaven,
and Christ <>ti hoard the ship Ike
danger of the Church of Clod I" not
revivals.
Again, my subject impresaes me with
the fact that Juana waa (Jod and man
in the same being. Hero h« la In ibe
back pari of the bout.. Ob, how toed
he looks, whut sad dreams be must,
have! Look ut hta countenance; tie
must be thinking of the cross to come.
Look at him, he la a man bone of our
bone, flesh of our flesh, Tired, he falls
asleep; he Is a man Hut then I dud
Christ at the prow of the boat. I hear
him say, "Peace, be still;" and I see
the storm kneeling at his feel, and the
tempests folding their wings in bis
presence; lie Is a (Jod. A
If I have sorrow and trouble, and *
want sympathy, I go and kneel down
at the back part of the boat, and say,
“O, Christ! weary one of Oenneaaret,
sympathize with all tny sorrows, tnsn
of Nazareth, man of the cross " A man,
a man. But If I want to conquer my
spiritual foes. If I want to get the vic
tory over sin, death, and hell, I come
to the front of the boat, and I kneel
down, and I say, "O, laird Jesus Cbrlsi,
thou who doal hush the tempest, hush
all my grief;, hush all my temptation,
hush all my sin,” A man, a man; a |
Ood, a Ood.
I learn once more from thle subject
that Christ can hush a tempest. It did
seem as If everything must go to ruin.
The disciples bad given up the Idea of
managing the ablp; tho craw were en
tirely demoralised; yet Chrlat ilsea.
and he pula his foot on the aturm. and
It crouches at his feet. Oh, yes!
Christ can hush the tempest.
You have had trouble. Perhaps It
was the little child taken away from
you—the sweetest child of the house
hold, the one who asked the most curi
ous questions, and atood around you
with the greatest fondness, and the
spade cut down through your bleeding
heart. Perhaps It was an only son, and
your heart has ever since been like a
desolated castle, the owls of the night
hooting among the falling rafters and
the crumbling stairways.
Perhaps it was an aged mother You
always went to her with your troubles.
She was in your home to welcome your
children Into life, and when they died
she was there to pity you; that old
hand will do you no more kindness;
that white lock of hair you put away In
the casket, or in the locket, did not
look as well as It usually did when she
brushed It away from her wrinkled
brow In the home circle or In the coun
try church. Or your property gone,
you said, "I have so much bank stock,
I have so many government securities,
1 have so many houses, I have so many
farms”~all gone, all gone.
Why, all the storms that ever tram
pled with their thunders, all the ship
wrecks, have not been worse than this
to you. Yet you huve not been com
pletely overthrown. Why? Christ
hushed the tempest. Your little onw
was taken away. Christ says, “J b#v»
that little one; l can take care of him
as well aa you can. better than you can,
0 bereaved mother!" Hushing the tem
pest. When your property wont away,
Ood said, "There are treasures in heuv
'*ii. 111 imunn iiiai mivcr mean.
There is one storm into whic h we
will all have to run, tho moment when
we let go of this life, and try to take
hold of the next, when we will want
all the grace we can have—we will
want It all. Yonder I see & Christian
soul rocking on the surges of death;
all the powers of darkness seem let out
against that soul—the swirling wave,
the thunder of the sky. the screaming
wind, all seem to unite together; hut
that soul is nut troubled: there is no
sighing, there are no tears; plenty of
tears in the room at the departure, hut
he weeps no tears, calm, satisfied. Vf
peaceful; all Is well. Jesus hushing tha
tempest. By the flash of the storm you
see the hurbor Just ahead, and you ar»
making Tor that harbor. Strike eight
bells. All is well.
1
Into the humor of heaven now w»
glide;
We're home at last, home at last.
Softly we drift ou its bright. ailv'ry
tide.
We re home at last, home at last.
Glory to God. all our dangers are u*r,
We stand secure on the glorified shore;
Glory to God. we will shout evermore.
We re home at last, home at last.
Hurry setl Worry,
We frequently hear of ChristUu
workers breaking down from over stuck. '
Inti nine limes nut of ten it was hurry
uiid worry which brought them to the
Stale of enforced tuacUon which they
regret Murry and worry which usual
iy go together, ruin more lives ibau my
amount of regulsi systematic labor in.
deed, inconsiderate ever lion |*
" bad in Its effect, *s Wlc„e« VVhy J
lantori we bear in mind that there *
elwsy* time enough to do well all that
*. ar* iailed upon to do* it iU,
more than this io do Injustice tseh u
or work and to oorselv** on (|»e. .
.. hand if », wa..* lMtt, aatmated
-. US. I I. .MCI... . I
it lark by evtr* ha»lv, j
Good sad Kvll it I, „ tahui.ai i
***** HffinHy Ihit M«u If 8
frea to choose .*r rtject; that t# human 1
Wllluut III* ( luiff |fc£t«■
i***4 «btj »«|| Urn m tb» bir«J# 1
aad tks tesasta May M Maher New
•oh. Kftasofaltan New Voah City M
