Mildred
Ure°Vanion
BY THE DUCHESS.
CHAPTER XVI. |
In but few minutes’ time after the
accident Mildred was beside Denzil, j
and down upon her knees, her horse
idly wandering away. She stooped
and placed her baud upon his heart,
but failed to detect the faintest beat.
She drew her fingers across his fore
head—cold and damp with the chilling
wintry wind—but to her it seemed
touched by the cold hand of Death.
A terrible feeling took possession of
her. Was he dead? Was he speech
less, deaf, blind, beyond love, life,
hope, for evermore?
Luting his head onto her lap and
pushing back the hair from his beau
tiful forehead, she murmured to him
tenderly, almost reproachfully, half
believing the cruel voice he had loved
so well ou earth would recall him even
from the grave. But there was no an
swer.
She looked up wildly, wouiu noooay
ever come? How long they were
how long! And, when they did come,
, would it, perchance, be only to tell
her that help was needless—that he
was indeed dead, as he appeared
lifeless within her very arms.
Oh, to speak with him once more,
if only for a moment—just for so long
as It would take to let him know how
well she loved him, and to beg on her
knees for his forgiveness!
Why did he lie so silent at her feet?
Surely that calm, half smile had no
sympathy with death. Was she never
to hear his voice again—never to see
the loving tenderness that grew in his
eyes for her alone?
Was all the world dead or insensi
ble that none would come to her call,
while perhaps each precious moment
was stealing another chance from his
life? This thought was maddening;
she glanced all round her, but as yet
no one was in sight. And then she
began to cry and wring her hands.
“Denzil, speak to me!" she sobbed.
“Denzil—darling—darling! ”
<.»****
Lord Lyndon, shortly after the acci
dent had occurred, turning round in his
saddle to discover whether Mis3 Tre
vanion was coming up with them, and
not seeing her, raised himself in his
stirrups to survey the ground behind,
and beheld two horses riderless, and
something he could not discern clearly
upon the grass.
“Sir George, look!" he called to his
companion. “What is it—-what has
happened? Can you see Mildred?
He waited for nothing more, but
putting spurs to the astonished animal
under him, rode furiously back, leav
ing Sir George to follow him almost
as swiftly.
And this was what they saw.
Lying apparently lifeless, with one
arm twisted under him, in that horri
ble. formless way a broken limb will
sometimes take, lay Denzil ^ ounge,
with Miss Trevanion holding his head
upon her lap and smoothing back his
hair, while she moaned over him words
and entreaties that made Lyndon s
heart grow cold.
“Mildred!” he cried sharply, putting
hi3 hand on her arm with the inten
tion of raising her from the ground,
but she shook him off roughly.
“Let me alone,” she said; “what have
you to do with us? 1 loved him. Oh,
Denzil. my darling speak to me—speak
to me."
“What 13 the moaning of this?”
Lyndon asked hoarsely. “Trevanion,
you should know.”
Sir George, who was bending over
the prostrate man, raised his eyes for
a moment.
"1 suppose, as she says it, it is true,”
he answered simply. “But I give you
my word of honor as a gentleman, 1
was unaware of it. All I know'is that
she refused him long before you pro
posed for her—for what reason I am
as ignorant as yourself. It has been
her own secret from first to last.”
As Sir George spoke, Mildred looked
up for the first time.
“Is he dead?" she asked with terri
ble calmness.
“No, no—I hope not; a broken arm
eeldom kills.” answered her father,
hurriedly, drawing the broken limb
from beneath the wounded man with
great gentleness. “Lyndon, the bran
dy.”
Lyndon, who was almost as white as
Deuzil at the moment, resolutely put
ting his own grievances behind him
for the time being, knelt down beside
Sir George, and, giving him his flask,
began to help in the task of resusci
tation.
“How will It be?’ he asked in a
whisper.
“I cannot tell,” answered Sir George;
“we can only hope for the best. But
I don’t like the look on the poor lad s
face. I have seen such a look before.
Bo you remember little Polly Stuart of
the Guards? I was on the ground when
he was killed very much in the same
manner and saw him lying there with
Just that sort, of strange, calm, half
smile upon his face a3 though defying
death. But he was stone dead at the
time, poor boy.”
“How shall we get him home?”
asked Lyndon. "I wish some doctor
> could be found to see him. Was not
Stubber on the field this morning?”
“Yes, but was called off early in the
day, I think.”
“His heart!” cried Miss Trevanion, I
suddenly. "His heart! It's beating!” i
She raised her eyes to her father's
as she gave utterance to the sweet
words, and Lyndon saw all the glorious j
light of the hope that had kindled in r
them. Her white fingers were pressed
closely against Denzil’s chest; her |
breath was coming and going raptur- I
ously at quick, short intervals; her j
whole face was full of passionate, glud
expectation.
"So it is,’' said Sir George, excitedly.
“Lyndon, more brandy."
So life, struggling slowly back into
Denzil’s frame, begun its swift course
once more for him; while for Lyndon,
turning away sick at heart and misera
ble, its joys and promises were but as
rotten fruit, ending in bitterness and j
mockery.
CHAPTER XVII.
It was late the same evening, and
Mildred sitting in her mother's room,
with one hand clasped in Lady Caro
line's, was gazing idly into the Are,
seeming pale and dejected in tho red
light of the (lame, that ever and anon
blazed up and sunk, and almost died,
and brightened up again. Yet In her
heart there was a great well of thank
fulness, of joy unutterable—for had
not the doctor, fully an hour before,
declared Denzil out of any immediate
danger?
Up to that moment Miss Trevanion
had remained in her own apartment,
not caring to encounter the gaze of
curious observers—now walking fever
ishly backward and forward with un
spoken prayers within her breast, now
sitting stunned and wretched, waiting
for the tidings she yet dreaded to hear.
But, when Lady Caroline came to
tell her all was well for the present,
she could say nothing; she only fol
lowed her mother back to her own
room where she fell upon her knees
and cried as if her heart would break.
Suddenly the door opened and a ser
vant stood revealed.
"Lord Lyndon’s compliments to
Miss Trevanion, and he would be glad
to see her for a few minutes In the
north drawing room,” he said, and lin
gered for a reply.
“I will be down directly,” Mildred
answered tremulously, and when he
had withdrawn turned nervously to
ward Lady Caroline. “Oh, mother,”
she said, ‘‘what can I say to him?
What must he think of me?”
“Have courage, my darliug,” whis
pered Lady Caroline, “and own tho
truth—plain speaking is ever the best
and wisest. Afterward he will forgive
you. Remember how impatiently I
shall be waiting here for your return.”
"Of course he will understand that
It is now all over between us?” Mil
dred asked, half anxiously, as she
reached the door.
‘ Of course he will,” said Lady Caro
line, with a suppressed sigh. How
could she help regretting tills good
thing that was passing away from her
daughter. “Now go, and do not keep
him in suspense any longer.”
So Mildred went; lint, as she passed
the threshold of the room that con
tained Lord Lyndon, a sudden rush of
memory almost overpowered her, car
rying her back, as it did, to that other
night, a few short weeks ago, when
she had similarly stood, but in how
i: or ... .....ill i.. al.. d a!.—
vi i ii v i v ii i Ib |IU^II.IWI| 111V ui HIV
man now standing opposite to her.
Then she had come to offer him all
that was dearest to him on earth, now
she was come to deprive him of that
boon—was standing before him, judg
ed and condemned as having given i
away that which in nowise belonged
to her.
She scarcely dared to raise her head,
but waited, shame-stricken, for him
to accuse her, with eyes bent sorrow
fully downward.
‘‘I have very little to say to you,”
said Lyndon, hoarsely, in a voice that
was strange and cold, all the youth
being gone out of It, “but I thought it
better to get it over at once—to end
this farce that has been playing so
long.”
No answer from Miss Trevanion—
no movement—no sound even, beyond
a slight catching of the breath.
“Why you should have treated me
as you have is altogether beyond my
fathoming.” ho went on. “Surely I
could never have deserved It at your
hands. When I gave you that paltry
money a few weeks ago, I little
thought it was accepted as the price of
your affection. Affection! Nay, rather
toleration. Had I known it I would
have flung it into the sea before it
should have so degraded both yourself
and me. Had you no compassion—
no thought of the dreary future you
were so coldly planning out for us
both—I ever striving to gain a love
that was not to be gained—you per
petually remembering past days that
contained all the sweetness of your
life?. There—it is of small use my re
proaching you now; the thing is done,
and cannot be undone. You have only
acted as hundreds of women have act
ed before you—ruined one man’s hap
piness completely, and very nearly
wrecked another's, all for the want of
a little honesty.”
He made a few steps forward, as
though to pass her, but she arrested
him by laying both her hands on his
arm.
“Oh, Henry, forgive me!" she ex
claimed, with deep emotion. ’’You can
not leave me like this. I know I have
I been bad. wicked, deceitful, In every
way, but, oh. forgive me! No—do not
mistake me. I know well you would
never marry me now; and" lowering
her voice—“neither could I ever marry
you, having once shown you my heart;
so there can be no misconception
about that. Hut if you knew every
thing—how wretched 1 was, how hope
less, how essential it was that the
money should be procured, how ter
rible it was to me to have to borrow
it, and how just and light a thing it
seemed to give you myself In ex
change, having no other means of re
payment—you might perhaps pity me.
Could you only have seen into my
heart, you would have read there how
real was my determination to be true
to you, to make you a good wife, and
love you eventually as well as I loved
—that other."
She broke down here and covered
her face with her hands. And Lyndon
who had never learned the art of be
ing consistently unkind to anything,
felt his wrath and wrongs melt away
altogether, while a choking sensation
arose in his throat.
He forgot all his own dpep Injuries,
and, taking the pretty golden head
between bis hands, he drew it down
upon his breast, where she began to
cry right heartily.
“Mildred, how could you do It?” he
whispered, presently, in a broken
voice. "Had you hated me you could
have done nothing more cruel. Child,
did you never think of the conse
quences?"
“I know I have behaved basely to
J’ou,” gobbed Mildred. "But I never
thought that this would be the end.
Ail might have turned out so different
ly, had—had this day never been.”
“I shall never cease to be thankful
that this day did come,” he answered,
earnestly. “Better to wake from a
happy dream in time than rest uncon
scious until the waking is too late.
Bitter as it is to lose you now, and
no one but myself can guess how bit
ter that is, would it not be far worse
to discover that my wife had no sym
pathy with me, no thought akin to
mine?” He paused for a moment and
then he said, sadly, “It seems a hard
thing for me to say, but yet—oh, Mil
dred, I wish we had never met!"
“Is there nothing I can do to make
it up to you?” she asked, despairing
ly.
“No. there is nothing,” he answered,
regretfully; “all that could be said or
done would not obliterate the past.
You are crying still, Mildred,” raising
her face, and regarding it mournfully;
"are you so very sorry then, for your
work? And yet a few plain words
would have prevented all this. Tell
me—when returning the money, which
you Insisted on doing after your
grand-aunt's death, why did you not
then honestly speak the truth? Was
not that a good opportunity?”
"Oh, how could I do it then?” she
asked, turning away her head, with a
little shiver of distaste; “that would
have appeared so detestable in your
eyes. What!"she exclaimed, “accept
your kindness gratefully when I was
in sore need of it. and then when I
had no further want of it, throw you
off without the slightest compunction?
Surely you would have thought that
a very unworthy action?”
“Still it would have been better than
this,” he answered, gloomily, begin
ning to walk slowly up and down the
room, while she stood weaving her
fingers restlessly In and out, watching
him.
Poor Mildred, the bitterness of her
remorse just then made half atone
ment for her sin. With a heart at
once affectionate and deeply feeling,
it was to her the intensest agony to
see Lyndon so crushed and heart
broken. and know it was her own
handiwork.
For a few minutes there was silence
except for the faint sound of Lyndon's
footsteps as he paced heavily to and
fro on the thick carpet. At lcnglh
she could bear it no longer.
(To be continued.)
Preaches for Her llushintf.
Wearied and almost ready to col
lapse from overwork, Rev. Mr. Clegg
of Tanncrsville, Pa., on a recent Sun
day evening permitted his wife to oc
cupy his pulpit, and the congrega
tion that listened to the discourse was
greatly pleased. “Sin came Into the
world by my sex, and it is my duty
to get all the sin out of the world I
can,” said Mrs. Clegg In her sermon.
She conducted her entire service for
her husband and her sermon was in
teresting from beginning to end. The
announcement that the minister’s wife
was to preach brought out a very
large congregation and late comers
stood two deep in the corridor. Rev.
D. W. Lecrone, the Luthcra i pastor of
the village, dismissed his evening
service in order to hear Mrs. Clegg.
He was Invited to a seat on the plat
form and accepted. Pastor Clegg, who
is an Englishman, introduced his wife
to the congregation.
Limits of the Audibility of Bonn t.
An interesting matter, from a scien
tific point of view, in connection with
the death of Queen Victoria, is the dis
tance at which the sound of firing was
heard when the fleet saluted as the
body was conveyed from Cowes to
Portsmouth. Letters in the English
journals of science show that the
sounds of the guns w’ere heard In sev
eral places at a distance of eighty-four
miles, and that at a distance of sixty
miles the concussions were sufficiently
intense to shake windows and to set
cock pheasants to crow ing as they do
during a thunderstorm. There ap
pears to have been but little wind to
interfere with the propagation of the
sound.—New York Post.
Of 555 Japanese university students
who were questioned as to their reli
gious beliefs no fewer than 472 called
themselves atheists.
PAEMAGE'S SEHMON.
ENCOURAGEMENT KOR THE DIS
COURAGED, THE SUBJECT.
Kroon tl.e Ti-xt, Mmthtw \\\: 15—“To
Another On®" I liw Duty ttnrl the .Iny
«»f lilt* Chrlslliitt I® to tarry Gaud
t hear — Talent of r®rtu,ulou.
(Copyright. lflOl, by Louis KKipsi-h. X. YA
Washington, June 2.—This is a dis
course by Dr. Talmage for those given ;
to depreciate themselves and who have i
nu idea that their best attempts amount j
to little or nothing. Text, Matthew ,
xxv., 15: "To another one."
Expel first from this parable of the
talents the word “usury." It ought to
have been translated "interest.’’ "Usu
ry” is finding a man in a tight place
and compelling him to pay an unrea
sonable sum to get out. "Interest" is
a righteous • payment for the use of
money. When the capitalist of this
parable went off from home, he gave
to his stewards certain sums of money,
wishing to have them profitably in
vested. Change also your idea as to
the value of one talent. You remem
ber the capitalist gave to one of ills
men tor business purposes five talents,
to another two. to another one. What
a small amount to this last, you think,
and how could he be expected to do
anything with only one talent? I have
to tell you that one talent was about
$7,200, so that when my text says, "To
another one,” It implies that those
who have the least have much.
Wading tli# T#lent«.
We bother ourselves a great deal
about those who are highly gifted or
have large financial resource or exalted
official position or wide reaching op
portunity. We are anxious that their
wealth, their eloquence, their wit, be
employed on the right side. On* of
them makes a mistake, and wo say,
"What an awful disaster." When one
of them devotes all his great ability
to useful purposes, we celebrate It; we
enlarge upon It; we speak of it as
something for gratitude to tlod. Mean
while we give no time at all to con
sider what people are doing with their
one talent, not realizing that ten peo
ple of one talent each are quite as Im
portant as one man with ten talents.
In the one case the advantage or op
portunity is concentrated in a single
personality, while in another it is di
vided among ten individuals. Now
what we want to do in this sermon is
to waken people of only one talent to
appreciation of their duty. Only a few
j people have five talents or ten talents,
: while millions have one. My short
[ text is like a galvanic shock. “To an
other one."
C'arry (iood C'licpr.
Is it a cheerful look? Carry that
look wherever you go. It must come
from a cheerful heart. It is not that
Inane smile which we sometimes see
which Is an irritation. In other words,
it must he a light within us so bright
that it illumines eye. cheek, nostril
and mouth. Let ten men who are ac
customed to walking a certain street
every day resolve upon a cheerful
countenance ns a result of a cheerful
heart, and the influence of such a fa
cial irradiation would he felt not only
in that street, but throughout the
town. Cheerfulness is catching. But
a cheerful look is exceptional. Exam
ine the first twenty faces that you meet
going through Pennsylvania avenue or
Chestnut street or Broadway or State
street or La Salle street or Euclid ave
nue, and nineteen out of the twenty
faces have either an anxious look or
a severe look or a depressing look or
an avaricious look or a sneering look
or a vacant look. Here is a mission
ary work for those who have trouble.
Arm yourself with gospel comfort.
Let the Cod who comforted Mary and
Martha at the loss of their brother, the
God WllO Boomed Aurauain ai me ium
of Sarah and the God of David, who
consoled his bereft spirit at the loss
of his boy by saying. “I shall go to
him;" the God who filled St. John
with doxology when an exile on barren
Patmos and the God who has given
happiness to thousands of the bank
rupted and persecuted, filling them
with heavenly riches which were more
than the earthly advantages that are
wiped out—let that God help thorn,
if he takes full possession of your na
ture. then you will go down the street
a benediction to all who see you, and
those who are in the tough places of
life and are run upon and belied and
had their homes destroyed will say:
“If that man can be happy, I can be
happy. He lias been through troubles
ns big as mine, and lie goes down the
street with a face in every lineament
of which there are joy and peace and
heaven. What am I groaning about?
From the same place that man got his
cheerfulness I can get mine. ‘Why art
thou cast down. O my soul, and why
art thou disquieted within me?
New Race of Mlnl'ters.
More people go now to church than
ever In the world’s history, and the
reason is in all our denominations
there is a new race of ministers step
ping into the pulpits which are not the
apostles of humdrum. Sure enough,
we want in the Lord’s army the heavy
artillery, but we want also more men
who, like Burns, a farmer at Gettys
burg, took a musket and went out on
his own account to do a little shooting
different from the other soldiers. The
church of God is dying of the proprie
; ties. People who in every other kind
| of audience show their emotions in
; their countenances in religious assnm
I biles while we are discussing coming
| release and the joys of heaven look
I as doleful as though they were attend
ing their own funeral. My friends, if
i you have the one talent of wit or hu
mor are you using it merely to make
a taw people laugh winter nights
around the stove in the corner gro
cery? Has it never occurred to you
that you have a mission to execute
with that bright faculty? Do you em
ploy it only in idle conundrum or low
farce or harlequinade or humiliating
banter? Quit that and swing that
flashing scimiter which God has put in j
your hand for the slaying of sin and
the triumph of righteousness. Or is
your talent an opportunity to set a
good example? One person doing
right under adverse circumstances will
accomplish more than many treatises
about what is right. The census lias
never been taken of lovely old folks.
Most of us. if we have not such a one
in our own house now, have In our
memory such a saint. We went to
those old people with all pur troubles.
They were perpetual evangelists, by
their soothing words, by their hopeful- j
ness of spirit, and inexpressible help. \
I cannot see how heaven could make j
them any lovelier than they are or
were. Hut there are exceptions. There '
Is a daughter In that family whose '
father Is impatient and the mother |
querulous. The passage of many years
does not always Improve the disposi
tion, and there are a great many dis
agreeable old folks. Some of them
forget that they were ever young
themselves, and they become untidy in
their habits and wonder how, when
their asthma or rheumatism is so bad.
other people can laugh or sing and go
on os they do. The daughter in that
family hears all of the peevishness and
unreasonable behavior of senility
without answering back or making
nny kind of complaint, if you should
ask her what her five talents are or
her one talent is. she would answer
that she has no talent at all. Greatly
mistaken Is she. Her one talent Is to
forbear and treat the childishness of the
old as well as she treats the childish
ness of the young. She is no musician,
and besides there may not be a piano
in the house. She cannot skillfully
swing a croquet, mallet or golf stick.
Indeed, she seems shut up to see what
she can do with a ladle and a broom
and a brush and other household im
plements. She is the personification
of patience and her reward will be as
long as heaven. Indeed, much of her
reward may lie given on earth. She Is
in a rough college, from which she
may after a while graduate Into
brightest domesticity. She is a hero
ine, though at present she may receive
nothing but scolding and depreciation.
Her one talent of patience under trial
will do more good than many morocco
covered sermons on pat’ence preached
today from the tasseled cushion of the
pulpit. “To another one.”
T!i« Talent «f Ilouenty.
There is a man in business life
whose one talent Is honesty. He has
not the genius or the force to organize
a company or plan what is called a
“corner in wheat.” or “a corner in
stocks" or "a corner” in anything. He
goes to business at a reasonable hour
and returns when it is time to lock up.
Ho never gave a check for >20,000 in
ill liis life, but he Is known on the
street and in the church and in many
honorable circles as an honest man.
His word is as good as his bond. Ho
has for thirty years been referred to
as a clean, upright, industrious, con
sistent Christian man. Ask him how
many talents ho has and he will not
claim even one. He cannot make a
speech, he cannot buy a market. ;.e
cannot afford an outshining equipage,
but what an example he is to the
young, what an honor to his house
hold. what a pillar to the church of
Ciod, what a specimen of truth and in
tegrity and all roundness of character!
Is there any comparison in usefulness
between that man with the one talent
of honesty and the dashing operators
of the money market, who startle the
world first with a “boom" anu then
with a “slump?” I tell you that the
one man with the one talent will live a
happier life and die a more peaceful
death and go to a better place than
his brilliant but reckless eoutempor
o. ™ another one."
The chief work of the people with
many talents is to excite wonderment
and to startle and electrify the world.
What use is there in ail that? No use
at all. I have not so much interest in
the one man out of a million as I have
in the million. Get the great masses
of the world right and it does not
make much difference about what the
exceptional people are doing. Have
all the people with the one talent en
listed for God and righteousness, and
let all those w’ith five or ten talents
migrate to the north star or the moon,
and this world would get on splendidly.
The hard working, industrious classes
of America are all right and would
give no trouble, but It Is the genius
who gives up work and on a big salary
goes around to excite dissatisfaction
and embroilment, the genius who quits
work and steps on the stage or politi
cal platform, eats beefsteak and quail
on toast and causes the common labor
ers, compe'ler! to Idleness, to put their
hands into empty pockets and eat
gristle and gnaw bones. The world
W'ould be mightily improved if it could
slough off about 5,000 geniuses, for
there are more than that on our plan
et. Then the man or woman of one
talent would take possession of the
world and rule it in a common sense
and Christian way. There would be
less to amaze and startle, but more to
give equipoise to church and state and
world. “To another one.”
The Talent of 1’ersunelon.
Is your talent that of persuasion?
Make good use of it. We all have it
to some extent, yet none of us thinks
of it as a talent. But it is the
mightiest of talents: Do you know
that this one talent will fetch the
world back to God? Do you know It Is
the mightiest talent of the high heav
ens? Do you know that It is the one
talent chiefly employed by all theangels
of God when they descend to our world
—the talent of persuasion? Do you real
ize ti’.at the rough lumber lifted into a
cross «n the hill back of Jerusalem
was in persuasion as well as sacrifice?
That Is the only, absolutely the only,
persuasion that will ever induce the
human race to stop its march toward
the city of destruction and wheel
around and start for the city of light.
Now may the Lord this moment show
each one of us that to a greater or
less extent we have that one talent of
persuasion and impel us to the right
use of it. You say you cannot preach
a sermon, but cannot you persuade
someone to go ami hear a sermon?
You say you cannot sing, but cannot
you persuade some one to go and hear
the choir chant on Christmas or Eas
ter morning? Send a bunch of flowers
to that invalid in the hospital, with a
message about the land where the in
habitants never say "I am sick." Thera
is a child of the street. Invite him into
the mission school. There is a man
who has lost his fortune in speculation.
Instead of jepring at his fall go and
tell him of riches that never take
wings and fly away. Buckle on that
one talent of persuasion, O man, O wo
man, and you will do a work that
heaven will celebrate 10,000 years,
Tl»e Final Kevlow.
After the resurrection day and all
heaven is made up, resurrected bodies
joined to ransomed souls, and the gates
which were so long open are shut there
may be some day when all the redeem
ed may pass in review before the great
white throne. If so, I think the hosts
passing before the King will move in
different divisions. With the ilrst divi
sion will pass the mighty ones of earth
who wore as good and useful as they
were great. In this division will pass
before the throne all the Martin Lu
thers, the John Knoxes, the Wesleys,
the Richard Cecils, the Miltons, the
Chrysostoms, the Herscliells, the Len
oxes, the George Peabodys, the Abbot
Lawrences, and all the consecrated
Christian men and women who were
great in literature, in law, In medicine,
in philosophy. In commerce. Their
genius never spoiled them. They were
as humble as they were gifted or opu
lent. They were great on earth and now
they are great in heaven. Their sur
passing and magnificent talents were
all used for the world's betterment. As
they pass in review before the King on
the great white throne to higher and
higher rewards, It make.s me think of
the parable of the talents, "To another
ten.” I stand and watch the other di
visions as they go by, division after di
vision, until the largest of all the di
visions comes in sight. It Is a hundred
to one, a thousand to one. ten thousand
to one, larger than the other divisions.
It is made up of men who never did
anything but support their families
and give whatever of their limited
means they could spare for the relief
of poverty and sickness and the salva
tion of the world, mothers who took
good care of children by example and
precept, starting them on the road to
heaven, millions of Sabbath school
teachers who sacrificed an afternoon's
siesta for the listening class of young
immortals, women who declined the
making of homes for themselves that
they might take care of father and
mother in the weaknesses of old age,
ministers of the gospel who on nig
i gardly stipend preached in the back
woods meeting houses, souls who for
long years did nothing but suffer, yet
suffered with so much cheerful pa
tience that it became a helpful lesson
to all who heard of it; those who serv
ed God faithfully all their lives and
whose name never but once appeared
in print and that time in three lines of
the death column which some survivor
paid for. sailors who perished in the
storm while trying to get the life line
out to the drowning, persecuted and
tried souls who endured without com
plaint malignity and abuse, tbo3e who
had only ordinary equipment for body
and ordinary endowment of intellect,
yet devoted all they had to holy pur
poses and spiritual achievement. A3
I see this, the largest of ull the di
visions, from all lands and from all
ages, pass in review bpfore the King
on the great white throne I am re
minded of the wonderful parable of
the talents and more especially of my
text, "To another one.”
COURTESYT OWARD CHILDREN.
Lack of Politeness In Our Intercourse
with Them Is Injurious.
Great injury is done not only to tlia
present happiness of children, but to
their future character and conduct by
lack of politeness in our intercourse
with' them. Tlieir possessions are
their own. How often do we forget
that? They are ridiculouos trifles;
they are worthless and in our way. yet
wo have no right to throw them out
and burn them without warning or
consultation. A sister's or an aunt’3
gentle persuasion will do much to gain
pleasant consent to yielding up the
treasures which encumber too much
space or are laid down in improper
places. A box or basket provided to
hold these priceless sticks and stones
and once or twice a little pleasant aid
in gathering them, and the collector
will be gained over to what he sees
will surely preserve his property and
at the same time the little fellow
will have learned respect for
other people's property and the
proper way to ask leave to
touch and handle. While mothers are
busy with their often overwhelming
duties, it often happens that to ait
elder sister much care of the children
who are able to amuse themselves is
given, and here she will have a de
lightful chance to help them to ac
quire the attractive manner which is
such a help In future life, and give
them practical demonstration of the
comfort and joy of a home governed
1 by courtesy to old and young alike.—
Ledger Monthly.
The street car system in Manila is
inadequate, and It is the practice to
hire cabs whenever one desires to go
any distance In the city.