•CHAPTER XXVIL—fCoHTWCiD.l
Presently the object of his search en
tered, being no other than the fairy
prince he had admired so much from
the first. Seen closely, she was a young
woman of about flve-and-twenty, with
bold, black eyes, and a petulant mouth,
significant of ill-temper. Directly she
saw him she tossed her head and made
a grimace.
"So it Is you!” she cried. "I thought
you were dead, and buried.”
"And you did not mourn me?” re
turned Caussldiere, softly, with his
most winning smile. “Well, I have
come to ask you to sup with me tonight
at the Cafe des Trente Etolles.”
"I shall not come! I am engaged!”
"Nonsense, Seraphlne! You will
come.”
"Of course she will come,” cried the
low comedian, breaking in. "My chil
dren, live in amity while you can, and
drink of the best, for the Germans are
approaching. Papa Corbert commands
you—be merry, my children, while you
may. Seraphlne, Caussldiere Is a king
tonight; you will Join him and drink
confusion to the enemies of France.”
"Why did you not come before?” de
manded Seraphlne, sharply. “It is a
week since I have seen you. Were you
nursing the baby at home?”
"Ah, Caussldiere is a model hus
band,” exdaimedMademoiselleBlanche;
“he rocks the cradle and goes to bed at
ten.”
•■Ladles," said Corbert, with mock so
lemnity, “I conjure you not to Jest rn
•uch a subject. I am a family man my
self, as you are aware. Respect the
altar! Venerate the household! And
since the Germans are approaching—"
"Bother the Germans!" interrupted
Seraphlne. “Let them rome and burn
Paris to the ground. I should not care.
I tell you, Caussidiere, i have an en
gagement.”
“Don’t believe her!” cried Corbert.
"Seraphlne will sup with you. She
loves Brunet’s oyster pates too well to
deny you. Think of it. my child! A
little supper for two, with Chambertin
that has just felt the Are. and cham
pagne.”
***••*
An hour later Caussidiere and Made
moiselle Seraphlne were seated in one
of the cabinets of the Cafe des Trente
Etoiles amicably discussing their little
•upper.
When the meal was done and the
waiter had brought in the coffee, the
pair sat side by side, and Caussldiere's
arm stole round the lady’s waist.
"Take your arm away," she cried,
laughing. “What would Madame Caus
sidiere say If she saw you?”
Caussidiere’s face darkened.
"Never mind her,” he returned.
“Ah, but I do mind! You are a bad
man, and should be at home with your
wife. Tell me, Caussidiere,” she con
tinued, watching him keenly, “does she
know how you pass the time?”
“She neither knows nor heeds,” re
plied Caussidiere. "She Is a child, and
stupid, and does not concern herself
with what she does not understand."
Seraphlne's mariner changed. The
•mile passed from her face, and the cor
ners of her petulant mouth came down.
Frowning, she lighted a cigarette, and,
leaning back, watched the thin blue
wreaths of smoke as they curled up
toward the ceiling.
"What are you thinking of?” asked
Caussidiere, tenderly.
“I am thinking—”
"Yes.”
‘‘Thnl wmi nrn -
to be trusted; you have given this per
son your name, and I believe she is
your wife after all; and If that Is so,
what will become of your promises to
me? I am a fool, I believe, to waste
my time on such a man.”
"Seraphine!”
"Is she your wife, or la she not?”
"She la not, my angel.”
"Then you are free! Answer me
truly; no falsehoods, if you please.”
"I will tell you the simple truth,*'
replied Caussldiere, sinking his voice
and nervously glancing toward the
door. "In one sense, look you, I arn
married; in another, I am not married
at alt.”
"What nonsense you talk! Oo you
think I am Insane?"
"I think you are an angel.”
“I*shaw! Take your arm sway,"
"t.t«ien to me, Seraphine. The affair
la very simple, as 1 will show you.”
"Hleo! (iu on!"
"In a moment ol Impulse, for reasons
which I need not captain. 1 m irricj her
of whom you speah. according to ihs
English law. It was a foolish match, I
grant you. and I hate often repent* I
U from the n.«m*nt when I m«t you.”
"Apr**?" murmured Seraphine, with
a contempt wow* shrug of her Utt;«
shoulder*
"Aprs#* Well, the alfai* i* clear
*neu*h I am a Trench elttxrn, uy
Paraph i «*■”
He l«*had at her smlliwcir, with aa
etproaitoa of w ■ k«d meaning She
returned the !•—». U .ait>*t< p* *u*p
If
What nf that*" she naked.
"Ih you sat pensive* So long as t
rnatMtn In my a* ther country, whuru
•a eerem>wy ha* tahea place, this per*
mb la mm at wife at alt The taw t*
eacv ««•*♦* lent, I* it hut? A mart teg*
ta Itagiabd tith aa Eagtuh suhpwt .s
aa asarriage estate it has he*a ptopee
|p ratified la Traaew.”
"Oh,hut yaw are iraitrsua she tttai
"It Is abominable. Why do you not
do what is right, and acknowledge her
according to the French law.”
"For a very good reason. There is
some one I love better, as you know.”
But the actress drew herself angrily
away.
"You love no one. You have no love
in your heart. I tell you, Leon, I am
sorry for her and for her child. There
is a child, too, is there not?”
"Yes,” replied Caussidiere.
"Does she know, this poor betrayed,
what you have Just told me?”
“Certainly not. It would only—dis
tress her!”
"It is infamous!” exclaimed Sera
j plilne.
"Not at all,” he answered. "She is
very happy In her Ignorance, I assure
you. When the time comes, and It
may come when you please, I will tell
her the truth and she will quietly go
home.”
There was a long pause. Seraphine
continued to smoke her cigarette and
to glance from time to time with no
very admiring eagerness at her com
| panion. It was clear that the frank
i confession of his villainy had not
raised him in her esteem. Seeing her
coldness, and anxious to change the
subject, he rang for the waiter and or
dered the bill. While that document
was being prepared he opened his
purse and looked into It. The act
I seeraeu 10 remind nim or someimng ne
had forgotten. He felt In the pocket
of his coat, and drew forth a small
cardboard box.
“I have something to show you,” he
said, smiling.
Seraphlne glanced up carelessly. -
"What is it. pray?”
‘‘It is this,” replied Caiissidiere.opon
Ing the box and showing a gold brace
let richly wrought. "Do you think
It pretty? Stay! Let me try It on your
arm!”
So saying, he clasped the bracelet on
Seraphine's left wrist. Holding out
her arm, she looked at it with assumed
carelessness,hut secret pleasure, for she
was a true daughter of the theater,
and loved ornament of any kind.
“I see," she said, slyly. "A little pres
ent for madame!”
"Liable! No, it is for you—if you
will accept it.”
"No, thank you. Please take it
j away. I will not take what belongs
I to another.”
“Then I will throw it into the
street!”
At this moment the waiter returned
with the bill. It amounted to a consid
erable sum, and when Caussidiere had
settled it, and liberally feed the bring
er, there was very little left in the
pur6e.
“You will wear the bracelet for mj
sake,” said Caussidiere, softly, as he
assisted theactress to put on her cloak
“No, no,” answered Seraphlne, hui
without attempting‘to take the brace
let off. "Apropos, Leon, where do yoi
get your money? You do not worl
much, I think, and yet you spend youi
cash, sometimes like an English ml
lor.”
“I wish I were twenty times as rich
for your sake!” cried Caussidiere, evad
ing the question. "Ah, my Seraphlne
1 adore you!”
He drew her toward him and kisset
her on the lips. The present of th<
bracelet had prevaiied.and she sufferet
the salute patiently; hut there was a:
expression In her face which showet
that she rated her admirer exactly a
his true worth.
A few minutes later Caussidiere, wltl
the actress hanging on his arm, gaylj
miitfptl thp rnfp
CHAPTER XXVIII.
N the morning aft
er her strange In
tervicw with Mar
Jorlc, A<lele Of iTu
M o ii c h e d'Or
dressed in the wild
ly extravagant con
turae of u potro
leuae, and holding
a darning torch li:
her hand, wai
■landing In an ar
tlat’a studio- a grimy enough apart
; meat, altuatcd lu a back street In tbs
neighborhood of the Madeleine.
8he was posing for the U-m tit of th«
artist Immediately In fu-ut of htr, bw
; her eyes were fixed not upon h.w, tiui
1 upon the figure of a young man wh
| was working hard at the other end ol
the room, Kvcr since she first came t
the studio, fust three days before. Vi*i<
had watched tks young maa very cu
riously.
Ills behavior Interested her. It
I svidom spoke, but worked at hi* pic
ture with i|0tet p* «t nadiy. I*r< » orj
ths young fellow dr >pped bU brush at J
walked silently from the room, A 4s!«
turned her nn up -n her companion
"M ho is your friend, muusteur.' she
; asked abruptly
the artist, deeply engag'd la hii
j work, failed at first to aorta* b*r tps*-*
t;on
htr Is lur the Mked agaia.
“Her*
“Yea. Ike youag man who w-rks at
j wave and astet essaka'*
“tie -a a troiad "
“Naturally, n*oas**or »ia<« ks i karat
pouf »iudi.> but wkers dona ke ««m
- from T
Tks artist smiled
’You mam «or iota about kirn, made
molselle,” he said. "YYhat do yon wish
to know concerning him?”
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
"Wish to know!” she exclaimed. "Ma
fol! I have no wish to know, mon
sieur.”
“Then I don’t mind telling you. He
is a countryman of mine. He was
born in a village near where I was
born. I knew blm when he was a boy;
and when be came to Paris a few
months ago, determined to work hard
and compelled to live on slender means, I
I offered to share my studio with him,
and he Is here. There, you have lost
your fierce look and got quite a tame
one Into your eyes. You are no longer
a wild creature of the Revolution. You
are also stiff. I perceive. Take a few
turns about the rooms, mademoiselle,
then we will go on.”
The artist walked over to a table lit
tered with all kinds of debris, (Hied a
well-colored briar-root pipe, and began
to smoke.
He was a tall man, slight in build,
rather good-looking, but very careless
ly dressed; when he walked, he did so
with a slight limp, though he appeared
to have well-knit limbs: and when he
spoke French, he did so with a very
strong insular accentuation. From
himself Adele had learned nothing of
his personal history, for he was chary
of giving that kind of Information,
and at times more inclined to work
than talk.
Having received permission to rest,
Adele shook herself like a young pan
ther, and leaped lightly from the ros
trum, while her employer, having lit
his pipe, strolled off and left her in
sole jKissession of the studio. She
stood for a moment to stretch her
limbs, already cramped with posing,
then strolled thoughtfully to the fur
ther end of the studio, where the
younger of the two men had been
wnrkfno’’ ptnnti thn niftlir#* :*.t
which he worked no assiduously, co>
ered with a green fold of baize. Adels
longed to have a peep at It. She lis
tened; returned to the door; there was
no sound; then she ran lightly across
the room, lifted the loose baize and
exposed the picture to full view.
"Holy Mother!" she exclaimed,
starting hack with raised eyebrows
and hands.
"You are startled, mademoiselle,”
said a voice. ' I)o you consider the
picture a bad one?”
Adele turned and saw her employer
gazing at her from the threshold of
the room.
"If you please," he continued, ad
vau< ing, "we will return to our work.
Your face has got some expression
now; the rest has done you good."
Without a word she turned from the
picture, mounted her rostrum and fell
into her accustomed pose.
For a time the artist worked again
silently, and Adele, glancing from him
to the picture, seemed deliberating aa
to what ■die should do.
Presently she spoke.
"How long has he been in Paris?”
she said, Indicating liy a sidelong
movement of her head the person who
usually occupied the other end of the
room.
"Several months, a3 T Informed
you,” returned the artist, without look*
lng up from hla work.
"Who is hie model?”
"Which one?”
"For that picture."
"No one. He paints from memory."
"Ah, then, he has known her? He
is a compatriot of rr.adame?”
"Of whom?”
"Of the original of that picture—
Madame Caussidlere."
"Ah, you think you trace a likeness
• to a friend.”
"I do not think it, monsieur; I know
it. It is madame, not as she i3 now
I —ah. no—hut as she must have been
1 years ago, before she married that
1 ehouan of a Caussidlere!”
i (TO BE CONTINUED.)
HAND TO MOUTH.
In America People Leave Nothing for
Thetr Children to Spend.
In America it is the custom—very
nearly the universal custom for par
ents to spend upon the luxuries and
pleasures of the family life the whole
Income, says the North American Re
view. The children ure educated ac
cording to this standard of expenditure
and are accustomed to all its privileges.
No thought Is taken of the time when
they must set up households for them
selves almost invariably upon a very
different scale from the one to which
they have been used. To the American
parent this seems only a natural down
fall They remark cheerfully that they
themselves began In a small way and
It will do the young people no harm to
acquire a similar experience, forgetting
that In most cases their children have
been educated to a mil' ll higher ttnn I
ard of ease th en that of their own early
life. They do not consider It obligatory
to 1< me any thing to their children at
death. They have u d all they eontd ac
cumulate during their own lifetime -
let thetr rhtldren do the same. The re
| suits of the system are eyrstalllxed In
| the American saying, “There are but
three generations front shirt sleeve* ta
ablrt dssus." The man who acquire*
Weclth spends what be make* ||,«
children, brunght nn In Insure, s'rue
tie h* HeeeeefUllV asatnst conditio*# t<»
1 whi t they are unused, and the irn l
children k#«ia In their shirt 4i<s>in is
tmt for the wealth dissipateby the
two yrscwlist tss*wt»ss.
*M« W.S..S
.1 R TbomtssoN. e i*'. . bay. It year#
1 of #<• living near Ssivysrd Kr , baa
already mastered the emw* sebool
I ta-itus. Ms of tu s IsiMlk sdn eitaa.
ai • is *i*V* up It* etgaWq.
Is* ##«r •n*>cny. •#(• nine, a* I the
t .to b*'i list# said to b* a
t aw’eisg *«i> uie d, and a * acral ta
Maiiy p»*p-*A*
THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS
FAMOUS SUICIDE STRUCTURE
IN CHICAGO.
•onie Sad Stories llronght to Light
Modlee Found lu tlia Morning—A
Horrible Featore of Famous l.lncoln
Fark—A Yonng Ulrl'a Deed.
O It E A T high
bridge of steel, a
mighty span, which
gleams white In
the sunlight and
arches gracefully
over the tossing
waters of the Lin
coln park lagoon
forty-five feet be
low, is the struc
ture from which
several unhappy mortals have hurled
themselves Into eternity. It is Chica
go's Bridge of Sighs.
It seems to tempt strangely those
who seek relief from the cares which
pursue them. Three people are known
to have Jumped from Its highest point
to the deep water of the lagoon. One
other hapless woman was seized by the
park police as she was preparing to
make the fatal leap. How many others
of those whose bodies have been found
in the lagoon In the last four years
plunged to death from the white rail
ing will never be known. Under cover
of the darkness, with no one near to
hear their last despairing cry or to be
startled by the splash as the dark wa
ters closed al«ive them, many of the
park suicides may have leaped from
that same fatal spot at the highest
point of the arch. Their drowned and
pitiful bodies have been found when
morning broke over the park, floating
la the lagoon, but the last chapter in
their broken lives will ever remain tin
read, and the park police only point
to the high bridge and shrug their
shoulders when a body lu drawn out
of the water.
It was not until this year that the
bridge seemed to attract those bent on
suicide. It was admired and crossed
by thousands, but not until last July
was it the scene of a tragedy, so far.
as the records of the park show. On
July 14 a stranger walked wearily up
the long flight of steps and paused
at the eenter of the bridge. He leaned
upon the railing a few minutes until
those nearest him had passed on and
begun to descend tue stairs. Suddenly
he arose from his recumbent posture
and a policeman, far away on the drive,
who chanced to be looking toward the
bridge, saw him climb easily to tho
top of the railing and vault over. Down
he went, turning over in his descent,
and struck the water on his back, Tho
body went under for a few seconds,
while policemen and visitors were run
ning around looking for some means
of saving him. Then it arose to the
surface and floated there until the po
lice hauled it out. No one knew the
mun. The only trace of identification
was the monogram "t\ H." on some of
his clothing. No one came forward to
claim the body, and the ettse went to I
swell the long list of "found drowned 1
and unknown."
It was a dull fall day, dark and for |
bidding, when the bridge claimed its |
nest victim. Maud Jennlug* must have '
contcroplnud jumping from It tong be- 1
furs she made the fatal letp, for she
tame to the park from her home mil >
away, on N< rth ltc< kvrell street, Inttn j
dlately after Having a ijuvrrel with her
mother, Sits had been reproved for
some childish ladtsere.lon htr mother j
had gon* so far as to strike lor IVi h
b*r heart burning with rag# and la- !
dignat ion, the young gtrl I otrn>4 j
a,roes the great city to l.ta«*>du Dark, |
passed a hundred methods of suicide ;
sad sist dimt to the tin of
Highs.
from the erwwn of the bridge she
bapsd Into the iag»«Jt N«» I ea t the
treat day her weeping mother iff alt .
lied the body, Hhe had often threw ea< j
s<l that she would end her life to use day
•bd the straight toed »he both (or the ;
high bridge whew Haally she thowgtt
her I rookie* too moay aad loo heavy
for her wcuM indwgte that the bridge,
with its great high span and the pegs*
Pat water# nnder It, had often tm J
through her disordered latglsaUss
Ual weuh bf ortht the Igleet addt
Uog 11 the list of • dints of the high
bridge when John Schwinnen plunged
from the arch and crashed through the
Ice. There was a covering three inches
thick over tho waters of the lagoon,
and the body of the unfortunate man
crashed half way through It, poised a
moment on the Jagged edges of the Ice,
and then sank (town Into the Icy water
until oniy the feet remained In sight.
He was, as usual, despondent and dis
heartened when he entered the park,
and it is every way probable his mind
was fixed on suicide, and that he was
heading for the bridge when he came
In.
Talk of prevention of sulrides from
the high bridge Is Idle speculation.
The commissioners have not seriously
considered the matter, and are not lia
ble to do so. They say they will do
nothing which will Interfere with the
comfort or convenience of the sane
people who wish to use the bridge, and
the Insane, heart-broken and desperate
must take their chances. As to build
ing an extra high guard rail about the
bridge, It Is very doubtful If that will
be done. It. would detract much from
the graceful llneH of the structure, and
that Is enottg'. to condemn the plan.
It Is Impossible to prevent suicides,
say the commissioners. If a man or
woman seeks death it will be found in
one form or another. If they were cut
off from the high bridge, the wide lake
stretches out chilling arms to enfold
them, and it is not likely any »tep3
will be taken looking to a change in
the new Bridge of Sighs. Several plans
to get around the difficulty have been
suggested to the rommisslon and police
of the park, but none have met wtlh
even tentative approval. The principal
objection to the high fence, with lta
overhanging barbed and curved ends.
Is that ll would render the bridge un
sightly. As It was erected originally
for ornamental purposes as well as tho
convenience of the public, the mem
bers of the board are loath to do any
thing to disturb the graceful outlines
and symmetry of the structure. They
absolutely refuse to consider this sug
gestion. Another scheme, presented In
ull good faith by a visitor to the park
the day Schwinnen jumped to the ice
below Is Ingenious if not acceptable to
the minds of the authorities. The vis
itor thought It would be a good idea
to stretch a net ovpr the water, high
enough to clear the heads of the oars
men and the masts of the small ves
sels which are used on the lagoon. He
favored stretching the net far enough
away from the sides of the bridge to
make it impossible for anybody to
Jump beyond their limits. They should
lie placed on both the north and south
sides of the bridge. His scheme has
this merit, that it would make it im
possible for any suicide to reach the
water and death by that means as long
as the net remained strong enough to
resist tho Impact.
But this scheme, while recognized as
possessing a certain degree of merit,
was also rejected. The board is in
control of the park solely for the good
of the public, and has ul the right,
as the members and police believe, to
do anything which will reduce the
pleasure of the people therein, hence
all plans to stop the world-weary from
using the thing of beauty as the point
of exit from a troubled existence have
he* a r*-J*< ted as forbidden under tbe
terms of the amhorUy of the hoard,
Huicide* have occurred in other por• j
lion* of ih« park as well as from the j
apex of the arch of the blah bridge, j
Given the man or woman with the de
sire l * dir, and he or she Is usually !
skillful enough to balk any attempts
to prw* nl Ih« consummation of the in- |
tentiou Hut do what they will, or do '
nothing, the fact t< m .no that the ]
bridge has become marked as the
refuge of the subid** barred from the
usual mods* of totting ikemeliM from
the earth
lls g‘ i ful lice* are n«w Viewed
with shuddering and horror by the
right-minded visitor* to the park
f a**M long, alight, curved heamt
who a Use ar* h are ilke Ike
outstretched ten.tele* ef some huge
ipN»r reaching out to detour human
vM-tu# The dresd fovivtiisa of lit
*pof 1* fed by all wbo venture ia tho
beautiful pi* t*u»e Dpot of the north
side Km are turned toward H o it
the owners would but eoutd wot thru
away to moro pleasing sights H«a4s j
gtaasu fearfully otter »boo Inters as the
oarers hurry from Its vteiattt It la
a spot of ptdgus, horror and death
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.
LESSON IV. JAN. 23. MATTHEW
5: 1-12.
W
(■olden Text: Yt Ar® th® Light of th®
World. Matt, ft: 14—Th® Beatitudes
—Mom® explanatory Remarks on th«
l.eston. v
The section Includes the Beatitude**
which are practically th® text, and such
applications and Illustrations a* arc giv
en in tin* rest of the chapter. Commit to
memory verses 3 to 10.
Suggestions to Teachers.*—Although thli
lesson follows In Matthew close upon tin*
general view of Jesus' Oalilean ministry
In our last lesson, yet we know from tin
other gospels that quite a number of
events look place in the meantime, sev
eral of which are recorded In Matt. >-l'i.
They an particular examples of th®
work described In Inst week’* lesson.
Now we come to a new and marked epoch
In the ministry of Jesus, and we should
note Its place In Ills life and work Take
also the wider view of the le:won. that
Includes In some degree the whole chap
ter. The Beaut itude* are, as It were, tin*
text of th*- Hermon on the Mount. As
we study each one, we can turn to the
applications and examples given In the
other verses. Dr. Shedd tells preach* rs
“to study dally, nightly, and everlasting
ly the lw*st authors." The advice b good.
It is good for teachers. There }* nothing
better to study In this way than the Her
moil on th® Mount. The application of ^
Its truths to modern life, our own and ™
that of our scholars, will both impres • It
on the memory and make Its truth* shine
with new and heavenly light. Place in
the Life of Christ Toward the mld»tyc
of his ministry; after he had gained con
siderable following, and proved by word
and deed his rightful authority a a
teacher, ii was the middle of the second
year, tin- Year of Developin'nt anil
mark'd a New Kpoeh. Historical H»t
11 tig. Tlrrn*. Hummer of A D. 2*.
explanatory, a wignt or rtuyrr
From Luke »>: 12, w«» learn that the m v/
epoch in tlie development of <'hrl.«F><
kingdom was preceded and ushered in by
a night of special prayer. Although to
Jesus prayer was dally bread, vital ah . v
the gate of heaven, yet the re were thn« aA
when battles were to he fought, great
question* to Vie settled, guidance given,
power to be received, when eternal I me*
depended on the decisions of the hour,
at these time* Jesus would he a long t m»
alone with ids Father, in deepest <om*
(minion and earnest prayer. Undo 2:
21. 22; Mark 1:3S). The Selection of
Twelve Apostles, for instruction and
training for the gr*at work of building
up Ids kingdom. Luke f>: 12-W. For »h*
names of the apostles, and the r < harm*
leristic*, see Lesson VIII., on Mall 10
Fundamental Principles of the King orn
of Heaven. The Inhabitants of heaven
live according to these principles ns nat
urally as they breathe; and when all th*
people of earth do the same le av e,, v\ i'I
he on earth, and the city of God wilt
have come “down from God. prep.»r d a
a bride adorned for her husband.“ Not -
that this sermon does not cornprl* tin
whole teaching of Christ. nor present th
way by which (his glorious stun* can b*
attained. But much of what follow.- In
the gospels of practical morals 1: an in
folding, exemplifying and illustrating th *
principle* unfolded In this inaugural ad
dress. A chart of life, as charts show
sailors where to go ami what to av Id.
The k*ynot" of thl* discourse Is found t »
Matt. 6; iS. “Be ye therefore j erfeet, « v- i
i’n a* your Father which I. In luav o * t
perfect." Fhrlid's Biography. “The A
Beatitudes and tic- Herrnon on the Mono: fl
are Christ's biography. Kvery syllabi* ■
h« had already written down In died*. ^
He has only to translate his Ilf* in*o 4
language."—Wn*. Burnet Wright. I> f>
The Revolution. -“The social. industrial,
political and religious conditions of the
Jewish people were fast becoming In
tolerable." “(1) The revolution <nruo
soon. The destruction of Jerusalem was ^
In A. I). TO. It fail'd utterly and hop*- ’
lessly. H caused a ruin wors: than the
cancer It tried to cure. It effaced the iui
tional life. (2) This revolution which
failed -failed utterly and hopelessly fol
lowed a course accurately the opposite
in every respect to the course present) d
by Jesus Christ."—W. B. Wright. Th • i
Beatitudes.- Vs. 1-9. First. The Ilfatl- I
tudes are tho text of the Sermon on the j
Mount. Illustration. They arc to thn *
whole sermon what the Salon Carre i« t »
tho whole Louvre of Paris; a small room
containing the choicest pictures, the gem*
of art. Second. Here is found the only
true method by which the needed moral
revolution can be realised. "What men
needed first was a change, not in their
circumstances, but in themselves. Bles
sedness. Jesus affirmed, come* not front
outward conditions, but from inward J
state*. It consists not In position*, but |
in dispositions." Reformer* try in vain
“to construct a stable and happy com
munity from persons who are selfish,
weak and miserable. Their first cry 1s.
‘Get your circumstances changed.*
Christ's flr*t call was: 'Get yourscl-.**
changed, and the thing* that stand
around you will be changed.’ When ih**
torch Is lighted, every dark crystal ill
the cavern will sparkle."--W. B. Wr gh:.
Mn.U III Atl.trallit.
The other night at Sydney they gave
In the vice-regal presence a cantata.
There were a cborua anti orchestra <>t
3t)o performers and a descriptive cho
rus. "Australia," In which "the howl
of the dingo, the scream of the cock
atoo, the kookaburra's laugh, the hop
of the kangaroo, and a native corro- ^
lioree" were Introduced. Imrlng th e
performance Mr. Sam I'oole, the well
known corned in u. cleverly disguised In
red shirt, white ducks, a woolly wig,
and Iduckeut'd face. Introduced i
w»lid uutlvu dance Sydney IHilh- j
11:1. I
Natural ilitnt.r.
'Van you tell me wist ha bseem*
of old t'*pi. Saltwater?" "Ms# |.*ht
boost kta plit ." "In llflrlmit " "No.
In the lower bay."—Urooktyn Idle.
I .It l.tlk 'lost t reU,
The natural habit of human Wilts
appears to be the use of the teeth on
the left it«t« of the mouth fur ntasiW
«Ullns lh» foe I
tit Mis OP TMOUOMT.
T« live ta ihe pt- sso « of srsal uu h
sad •tsrwal taws, iw wvk t . he I
p>«at«a*wi W* I. that .» west hsspo e
nt>a patient shut th» world igwors*
him wwd - aim aad was put tad wha-n ihw
world praiaea hint ttaiaar
Ufa la made up pat of treat aasrt
••♦a aad duttaa, hot of lltlte adalrs Us
wfetsh satiis* sad bladtMias aad MUw
sartiesa shswrtuiy ra >*r*» ata what
wta a«4 preaars* ih* kt.n aad mom*
. I
