_ : m . ' : : : : r r / ' I I Oun ' , . 0 0 S Up - G . c i'4 ' Lr13i ' 0h rl ! ) l1 ry ' J - - - - - CHAPTER N.II , (7'4 IIIOGIYE ; S throat healed slowly , but she would have no physician to attend to it. She was snspic1ous of doctors - tors silo said. They hnade a living by the deaths of other people. But she made her injury an excuse for keep- fug her room. : thout a week after the affair with the dog , Ralph was lyiri ; one night atvaltc in his chamber , the door of which he had left a little ajar for air. For sonic reason he coul(1 : ot sleep. At last he ! heard a 51g ! lt rustling SOt'hl(1 in the pasEage , and dircetly he thought he heard the belt of the ha'l ' door with- drawii. tic sprang up instantly , and , putting on ttls boots--fcr he had aot undressed-went rolcie. ! sly 'lows stairs , and out of the door. which , as he had c needed , ice found unfastened. The night was obscure , tlhe faintt new I moon hidden in clouds. But the low murmur of voices drew him on , and just at the foot of the garien he saw distinctly two figures , standing close together. He crept up near them , awl had no difficulty in recpgnizing his wife-and he was nearly sure that the other was the mysteriobs stranger with whom he had once before discovered her. her.The The man turned his face toward the t : hoop , and there was light enough to show Ralph that his comnlexIon was dark , his features iircgular , and his chin heavily bearded. : ind as he lifted np his right hand to enforce something lie was saying , the keen ohserver also saw that the third and fourth fingers were missing. "It is of no use to beat about the bush , firs. Trenhone : , " the man was saying ; "no use , whatever. I have told you my requirements- Huslr" she said , fearfully , looking around her. "I am watched continu- ally. ZVe cannot talk here. " " 1Vell , then we will row out to the Rover's Reef. It will he pleasanter on the water and I have a great deal to say . to you. But you must kiss me before we start. " Imogene drew back with a gesture of contempt , but the man put a strong arm around herr and held her to his side. She looked at him a moment , then lightly touched his cheek with her lips 1 and said hoarsely : "Let us go. I am in the mood to been on the water. It is just dark and gloomy enough. " He led her down the rocky path to a little cove where a strange boat , probably - ably the one in which he had reached the Rock , lay moored. She stepped in I without hesitation , and he pushed off. Some terrible purpose had flashed into - to life in the brain of Ralph Trenholme. He dashed down the rocks after them , unloosened his own boat and , by a circuitous - cuitous route , made off to the Rover's Reef. The low line of rocks which bore I this name formed at ebb tide a barren I island , about two miles from the shore , but at high water the waves swept it completely. Ralph bent every energy to the work 1 before hIm , and reached the reef some fifteen minutes before those for whom he waited. They came on shore , and the man made fast the boat. They sat down i just a little In the shadow of some rag- rocks lying between them and the t little indenture in the rock where they t had moored their boat , and began to converse together in low , earnest tones. , But Ralph did not care to listen. He had not come to pryy into secrets. He had I come for revenge. This woman whom f he had married had dishonored himi that was enough. All mercy for her died out in his heart. He unloosed his own I boat and took the other in tow , and allowed - - lowed himself to drift with the tide , which was just beginning to set land- ward. The moment he was out of hearing - ing of those on the Reef lie bent to the oars and in a little while the boats were beached and he was climbing the steep path to the house. And in an hour the Rover's Reef would be ten feet under water. He threw off his hat and sat down on the piazza. The air blew in from the I sea , fresh and cold. He heard the rush of the incoming tide. Something in the sound made him shiver. He put his band to his heart as if the motion might t stiD its wild throbbhngs. And in doing t so , tie felt the little tress of hair-the h blood-stained , golden tress that he had - cut from the head of Marina , the night j i h they had buried her. The simple touch 1 r thrilled him with a new sensation. It a brought before him the sweet , pitiful d blue eyes that were closed under the i t summer daisies and the winter snows. c Good heavens ! what was he better than t a murderer ? He sprang up in wild k baste , and dashed down the cliffs to the c ] b oats. With asl.il1ful hand he.launched s bthe the Sea Foam , and though the tide beat h him backalmost as fast as his strength c pushed fbrwara , he did not hesitate. It r 4 w t . was better to pa , iddlt on the rocks striving - ing to save the Ides he had put In jeopardy - ardy than it was to live-a murderer ! The rush of the tide was fierce and strong , but Ralph Trenholme was des- perate. He knew well the fearful risk he ran , but he did not flinch from facing - ing the danger. He bent every muscle and sinew to the work. The boat labored - bored on over the billows , the surf breaking over her at almost every I ; arch. Ralph was drenched to the skin. Rover's Reef had never seemed half so I far away. Ages had elapsed , it ap- peare'l to him , since he left the harbor. At last he neared the spot. He heard the swilling roar of the waves over the sunken rocks-saw before him the foam-white breakers , as they dashed : wild ; ) ' upward-saw , and heard with a blank and terrible' despair at heart- for the Reef was entirely under water ! "Great God ! " he cried , aloud ; "I have murdered them ! " And dropping the oars he fell upon his face in the bottom of the boat , and drifted at the mercy of the tide. It bore him rapidly down the shore , but he did not notice whither lie was going-the terrible weight of the thing he had done crushed hint utterly. A sudden shock aroused him. The boat had stranded on a sandy shore. lie crept from the debris and gazed around. He recognized the place at once. It was near Highpoint , a place of consider- ahe : shipping interest , about twenty miles from Portlea. The line of East indfamen terminated here , and even then at the wharf a ship was lying bound for the distant - tant islands of the East. A strong temptation came over Ralph to flee his country-to leave behind him everything - thing he feared ; to go away and let the fearful events of the past night remain to hint a fearful doubt. His boat would be found , and his friends would believe hint thorned , and no living being could ever know how guilty lie had been ! I-low guilty ! Had he been guilty ? He thought it over calmly. It had not been premeditated. He had never for a mo- mcnt indulged in the thought of taking this kind of revenge , until just as he saw the-pair push off in their boat. He had been math then ! Nothing short of insanityy could have prompted ) him to the fearful act. And after all , what had he done ? Nothing overt. He had simply removed a boat from the Rov- er's Reef to the shore. True , but he knew when lie did it that for the want of that boat two fellow-creatures must go down into the cruel depths of the sea , for nothing could save them ! Yes , he was guilty ; fearfully so-this man who had dared to take God's vengeance out of his a1-wise hands , who had cast off his onlyy sister because she tried to save the life of Lynde Graham-he , even lie , was , in the eye of the law , a murderer ! There wan one thing that he wanted to do , but something stronger than even his will held him back. He wanted to go before a magistrate and confess the whole and then let them do with him as they saw fit. But anything like this would involve the dishonor and name of his wife-if ! a part was told , it must all be told , and he could not bear the terrible scandal ! It would be more dreadful than even the recognition of his own guilt. He turned toward the outward bound vessel. His decision was nearly taken. A feather would have turned the scales either way. And it was turned sudden- y. "Hello , Trenholme ! " called a rough voice , which he recognized as that of . Iohn Cooper , an old man who lived. a ittle way from the Rock. "It's a nice morning , ain't it ? Going back today ? If you be , I'll take you right up in the Sally Ann. " Fate had'decided. He was to go back. It would be useless to leave the coun- ry now , for honest John would tell all' he neighbors near and far , that he had spoken to Squire Trenholme at High- port. So he replied , quietly enough : "Yes , I am going back. Thank you. 'II be glad of a chance in the Sally Ann or my boat has got stove , and if not , is a long row to Portlea. So an hour after he stood on the t deck of the fishing schooner , the Sally fan , and they were away for Portlea. y CHAPTER ] III. n , . a t n o P /h . i UST as Ralph I i sprang from the wharf he heard a C great shout , and U glancing up the a road he saw a pair ? of frantic horses attached to a light carriage dashing wildly down toward the sea. The coach1 man still clung to he box , but lie had lost all control over lie animals , and had much ado to keep S imself from being thrown over. With o Ralph , to think was to act. He flung o imself before the mad brutes , and seiz- a ng the near horse by the bit , was borne long with them. With one hand he row his knife from his pocket , opened t with his teeth , and reachingover , lie a ut the harness from the off horse' and ii lucking him with the point of his b nkfethe beast gave a mad snort and b eared himself from the carriage. His e trength soon sufficed to stop the other a erse , and delivering him up to the c are of half a dozen men who had a ushed out from their houses upon the .Zn _ - - _ ; - -T scene , he opened the door of the car- riage. But at sight of what it contained - tained he grew pale as marble and leaned against the vehicle for support. No wonder the was agitated , for lying white and still upon the velvet cushions , her long golden locks streaming over her shoulders , was the exact , counterpart - part of his lost Marina. The features the same repose of the face , the scarlet lips , the soft hair , even the delicate , shell-like ears were the same. "Good Heaven ! " lie cried , "am I awake or dreaming ? Marina , Marina , speak to me ! " "Is she safe ? Is' Genevieve safe ? " cried a strange gentleman , hastening up. "Tell me , sir. if she is injured ? " Ralph turned toward him. The sound of a voice recalled him to him- self. self."I "I do not think she is hurt. She must have fainted. "Thank Heaven ! " cried the stranger , . as he lifted the lady out in his arms. "She breathes ! Ali , she opens her eyes. Genie , my darling , are you hurt" She lifted her great violet eyes to his anxious countenance and smiled. The smile made her so much like Marina i that Ralph could hardly j ersuade himself - self that the dead had not come back to life. "No , Guy , I am not injured , I think. But fright made me do a very foolish thing , you gentlemen will think. Indeed - deed , I am not in the habit of swoon- ing. " "You certainly had sufficient cause , " Ralph said , bowing ; then to the gentleman - man , "Will you not allow me to offer you the hospitality of my house to your wife , until you can get a conveyance ? Trent tolme is very near , just behind the , trees , and I presume you came from the village ? " "We did , sir. We are stopping at the I Reef House. I thank you for your courtesy - tesy , but at present we will not accept it. That is , if Genevieve feels able to walk the half-mile between us and the hotel. Do you , clear' ? " "Certainly. I would not be a true Englishwoman if I could not , " she answered - swered , with a bewitching smile. The gentleman explained. ' "We are English. We arrived at Portlea two days ago in the Clifton. ) My name is Guy St. Cyril , and this is my sister , Genevieve. " 1I I 1 Trenholme removed his hat. "I am happy to make your acquaint. ante , " he said , "but allow me to tell i you that I am Ralph Trenholme , of the old house yonder on the rocks. " St. Cyril bowed. "Will .you walk with us to the hotel ? I have a fancy for becoming better acquainted - quainted with you. " Ralph willingly acquiesced , for he wanted to gain time , and he hoped cour age , before lie should again face the I wondering family at the Rock. For by this time theyy must have missed Imo- i gene and himself , as well as the Sea Foam. I In spite of all the dread lie felt within - in , Ralph Trenholme could not keep his eyes from the beautiful face of Miss St. Cyril Her brother noticed the absorbing - ing gaze. "Does my sister remind you of anyy one you have met ? " lie asked , a little curiously. Ralph started , conscious of , and ashamed of his rudeness. "Pardon me , sir , I have been unpardonably - donably rude. But I think Miss St. Cy- r ! ] will forgive me when I tell her that she is the exact image of the young girl I was once engaged to marry , and who was snatched from me on the day that was to have made her mine. " Miss St. Cyril's face sympathized with , his unwonted emotion. "Did she die ? " she asked softly. "Yes , she did. She was murdered. " The girl shuddered and grew pale. "It is a sad story , " said Ralph , hearses ly. "I seldom speak of it , but I think I would like to tell it to you. You are f . " I : so like her. . C tTO Its CONTINPEU.t I WHOLE WHEAT BREAD. s .1 Recipe That Ilan Been Tried and h Found Good. J I A tested recipe for whole wheat , b bread which we are glad to note is becoming - n coming a part of the diet of every well- nourished family , consists of one pint n of boiling water poured into a pint of , s nilk. Cool the liquid and when Luken warn add one cake of compressed yeast g dissolved in half a cupful of warm h water. Add a teaspoonful of salt and d enough whole wheat to make to batter . c that will drop easily from a spoon. ti ! Beat thoroughly five minutes , cover , U an(1 stand in a place that is moderately varm for three hours. Enough whole cheat to make a dough should then be P added - . When stiff knead graduallyWhen , on r our board until the mass is soft and b ] elastic , but not sticky. Make the dough P nto loaves , put in greased bread-pans , ' Pc and after covering stand aside one ' o hour. The time for baking will depend ' o the size of the loaves. If long 1o iren h loaves bake thirty minutes in a quick oven. If large square loaves , o f bake one hour at a moderate heat. Vhen crustyy bread is liked the dough si may be made in sticks and baked in Lb pans made for that special purpose. s Another tested recipe that requires less b handling and that is used by Miss Johnson is made in the following way. : a Scald one cupful of milk , add a tea- . poonful of butter , the same quantityy g f salt tablespoonful of a : , a sugar , and ne cupful of witter. When lukewarm ( Id one-half a yeast cake and enough tl , heat flour to make a thin batter. Tktis should be done in the morning , as he bread rises quickly. After making t smooth batter let it rise until very B ght. Add whole wheat gradually and h eating continuously until as much has n een added as you can stir conveniti ntly. If the flour is not added gradu- Ily and well mixed the bread will be Si oarse-grained. Turn into greased tins , G nd when light bake one hour on a , o moderate oven. - I t o e . - . . ; , - x . . - , . - - tTES S T IL L 1JL S. I A THRILLING SERMON BY REV. DR. TALMAGE. 1 Golden Tc t for Last Sunday : " [ Into Bin Shalt the Gatl + erih of the I'eo- plo lie"-Gen. , xlix , 10-Gett4 + g Sear i the Christian Stnndnrd. fp , , . , t HROUGH a supernatural - natural lens , or what I might call a prophescope , dying - ing Jacob looks down through the corridors of the centuries until he , sees Christ the center - ter of all popular attraction and the greatest being in the world , so everywhere acknowl- i edged. It was not always so. The 1 world tried hard to put him down and to put him out. In the year 1200 , while excavating for antiquities fifty-three i miles northeast of Rome , a copperplate - I plate tablet was found containing t1 to d Gatti-warrant of the Lord Jesus Christ , I reading in this wise : "In the year li of the empire of Ti- berius Caesarand on the 25th of March , I , Pontius Pilate , governor of the Prae- tore , condemn Jesus of Nazareth to die between two thieves , Quintius Corne- + IIus to lead him forth to the place of execution , " t The death-warrant was signed by several names. First , by Daniel , rabbi Pharisee ; secondly , by Johannes , rabbi ; i thirdly , by Raphael ; fourthly , by Capet , I a private citizen. This capital punish- I meat was executed according to law. i The name of the thief crucified on the right-hand side of Christ was DIsmas ; the name of the thief crucified on the , left hand side of Christ was Gestus.l Pontius Pilate describing the tragedy says the whole world lighted candles I from noon until night. Thirty-three I years of maltreatment. They ascribe i his birth to bastardy and his death to excruciation. A wall of the city , built ; about those time and recently exposed - posed by archaeologists , shows a caricature - cature of Jesus Christ evidencing the l contempt in which he was held by many in his day-that caricature on the wall representing a cross and a donkey - key nailed o ' t , and under it the inscription - scription : "This is the Christ whom the people worship , " But I rejoice that that dayy is gone by. Our Christ is coining - ing out from under the world's abuse. The most popular name on earth today is the name of Christ. Where he had one , friend Christ has a thousand friends. The scoffers have become wor- shipers. Of the twenty most celebrated infidels in Great Britain in . our day. , i sixteen have come back to Christ. trying - ing to undo the blatant mischief of their out of the twenty. Every man who writes a letter or signs a doe- ument , wittingly or unwittingly , lion- ors Jesus Christ. We date everything as B. C. , or A. D.-B. C. , before Christ : t A D. , Anne Domini , in the year of our Lord. All the age. , of history on the i pivot of the upright beam of the Cross of the Son of God , B. C. , A. D. I do not I care what you call him-whether Conqueror - queror , or Icing , or Morning Star , or. i Sun of Righteousness , or Balm of Gil- ead , or Lebanon Cedar , or Brother , or i Friend , or take the name used in the verse from which I take my text , and call him Shiloh , which means his Son , or the Tranquilator , or the Peacemaker , I Shiloh. I only want to tell you that 'unto ) him shall the gathering of the people be. " In the first place , the people are gathering - P ering around Christ for pardon. No t ensible man or healthfully ambitious s man is satisfied with his past lift. A aol may think he is all right. A sons- t le man knows lie is not. I do not I are who the thoughtful man is , the review of his lifetime behavior before S God and man gives to him no especial atisfaction. "Oh , " he says , "there ave been so many things I have done ought n of to have done , there have I e een so many things I have said I ought r ever to have said , there have been so , n things I have h many written I ought ever to have written , there have been h' o many things I have thought I ought s ever to have thought , I must somehow , a et things readjusted , I must somehow i Ib ave the past reconstructed : flexes are I . ays anti months and years which cry I i ut against me in horrible vocifera- I g on. Ah , my brother , Christ adjusts r t past by obliterating it. He does cr of erase the record of our misdoing ' s with. a dash of ink from a register's b I , ' : : n , but lifting his right hand , crushed , c' ed at the palm , he puts it against his e ceding brow , and then against his v ierced side , and with the crimson ac- w umulation of all those wounds he rubs fl it the accusatoryy . chapter. He blots fi it our iniquities. Oh ! never be anx0 us about the future ; better be anxious . n. bout the past. I put it not at the end si my' sermon ; I put it at the front : ti Iercy and pardon through Shiloh , the fa n-pardoning Christ. "Unto him shall h o e gathering of thepeoplc be. " "Oh ! " fi ays some man , "I have for forty years or een as bad as I could be , and is there st ny mercy for me. Mercyy for you. ( R Oh ! " says some one here , "I have a I k rand ancestry , the holiest of fathers p d the tenderest of mothers , and for b my perfidy there is no excuse. Do you h pink there is any mercy for me ? " ; o Iercy for you. "But , says another c man , "I fear I have committed what a hey call the unpardonable sin , and the th ible says if a man commit that sin a e is neitherr to be forgiven in this th orld norr the world to come. Do you of h ink there is any mercy for me ? " sp t The grace of God ! Let us take the i P- rveyor's chain and try to measure or ed's mercy through Jesus Christ. Let i w n e surveyor take that chain and go to : the north. and another surveyor take C 1 - . . that chain amigo to the south , ana I another surveyor take that chain and go to the east , and another surveyor t take that chain and go to the west , and then make a report of the square milee of that vast kingdom of God's mercy. Ah ! you will have to wait to all eternity I for the report of that measurement. It cannot be measured. ' Paul tried to climb the height of it , and he went height over height , altitude above altitude - tude , mountain above mountain , then sank down in discouragement and gave it up , for he saw Sierra Nevadus beyond and Matterhorns beyond , and waving his hands back to us in the plains , he says , "Past finding out ; un- searchable , that in all things lie might have the pre-eminence. " You notice ' that nearly all the sinners mentioned as pardoned in the Bible were great sinners-David a great sinner , Paul a great sinner. Magdalen a great sinner , the Prodigal Son a great sinner. The world easily understood how Christ could pardon a half-and-half sinner , but what the world wants to be persuaded - ed of is that Christ will forgive the worst sinner , the hardest sinner , the oldest sinner , the most Inexcusable sin- ner. To the sin-pardoning Shiloh let all the gathering of the people be. But , I remark again , the people will gather round Christ as a sympathizer. Oh ! we all want sympathy. I hear people - ple talk as though they were independent - ent of it. None of us could live without sympathy. When parts of our family are away , how lonely the house seems until they all get home ! But alas ! for those who never come home. Sometimes - times it seems as if it must be Impos- sible. What , will their feet never again come over the threshold ? Will they never again sit with us at the table ? Will they never again kneel with us at family prayer ? Shall we never again look into their sunny faces ? Shall we never again on earth take counsel with them for our work ? Alas ! me , who can stand under these griefs ? Oh ! Christ , thou canst do more for a bereft soul' than any ' one else. It is he who stands beside us to tell of the resurrection. It ; is he that came to bid peace. It is he that comes to us and breathes into us the spirit of submission until we can look up from the wreck and ruin of our brightest expectations and say : "Father , clot my will , but thine be done. " Oh , ye who are bereft , ye an- guish-bitten , come into this refuge. The roll of those who came for relief to Christ is larger and larger. Unto this Sliiloh of omnipotent sympathy the gathering of the people shall be. Oh , that Chr kt would stand by all these empty cradles , and all these desolated homesteads and all these broken hearts , and persuade us it is well. The world cannot offer you any help at such a time. Suppose the world comes and offers you money. You would rather live on a crust in a cellar and have your departed loved ones with you , than live in palatial surroundings and they away. Suppose the world offers - fers you its honors to console you. What is the presidency to Abraham Lincoln when little Willie lies dead in the White House ? Perhaps the world comes and says : "Time will cure it all. " .Ah , there are griefs that have raged on for thirty years and are rag- ng yet. And yet hundreds have been comforted , thousands have been comforted - forted , millions have been comforted , znd Christ had done the work. Oh , what you want is syntpathy. The I world's heart of sympathy beats very rregularly. Plenty of sympathy when wo do not want it , and often when we are fn appalling aced of it no sy m- patty. There are multitudes of peso _ I le dying for sympathy-sympathy in t heir work , sympathy in their fatigues , ympathy in their bereavements , sympathy - pathy in their financial losses , sympa- by in their physical ailments , sympa- hy in the time of declining yearss wide , deep , high , everlasting , almightyy i ympathy. We must have it , and Christ gives it. That is the chord with which he is going to draw all nations to him. A t the story of punishment a man's ye flashes and his teeth set and his lst clinches. and he prepares to do attic even though it be against the t eavens ; yet what heart so hard but it ' Ill succumb to the storyy of compas- icn ! Even a man's sympathyy is pleas- f nt and helpful. When we have been e n some hour of weakness , to have a rawny man stand beside us and promfi se to see us through , what courage it I ivies to our heart and what strength a gives to our arm. Still mightier is a oman's sympathy. Let him tell the e tort' who , when all his fortunes were tl one and all the world was against him , s ime home and found in that home a fie who could write on the top of the b mpty flour-barrel , "The e d will , ; or write on the door of the empty ardrobe , "Consider the lilies of the rr old ; if God so clothed the grass of the + tI old , will he not clothe us and ours ? " I , e r let that young man tell the story t ho has gone the whole round of dis- pation. The shadow of the peniten- di ary is upon him , and even his tl ther says , "Be off ! never come nce again ! " The young man b ids still' ' his mother's arm ° o itstretched for him , and how she will y and at the wicket of the prison to le hisper consolation , or get flown on her pees before the governor , begging for i th arden , hoping on for her wayward oy after all others are hopeless. Or let er er tell tht story who , under villain- us allurement and impatient of par- ntal restraint , has wondered off front home of which she was the idol into e murky and thunderous midnight of p bandonmert , away from God , and Purer - . er away. , until some time she is tossed the beach of that early home a me linterr of a wreck. VTo will pity' of ow ? Who will gather these di - m ed locks into her lap ? Wlr will ash off the blood from the asked r se ehead ? Who will tell of that ' y o hrist who came to s _ a r the lost ? I d - ; - - - : . - . . . . - - - - - - - ' " : s - , I. ' r , r Who wiI . s put that weary head on a the clean white pillow and watch by yp t , day and watch by night until the hoarse , voice of the sufferer becomes the ' i whi5Per , and the whisper becomes only ; a faint motion of the lips , and the fain. 1 motion of the lips Is exchanged for a silent look , and the cut feet are still , and the weary eyes are still , and the , frenzied heart is still , and all is still ? ' i 1'h o will have compassion on her ' „ .lien no others have compassion ? Bother , ' Mother' Oh ! there is , something beautiful in sympathy-In manly sympathy , wifely - ly sympathy , motherly sympathy ; yea. I and neighborly sympathy. Why was . It that a city was aroused with excite- I ment when a little child was kidnaped ( from one of the 'streets ? Why were whole columns of the newspapers filled with the story of a little child ? It was because we are all one in sy'nh- / pathy , and every parent said : "How if It had been my Llzzke ? How If it It had been my Mary ? How if It had been my Maud ? How If it had been my child ? How if there had been one r unoccupied pillow In our trundle-bed to-night ? How if my * little one-bone ) , i > of my bone and flesh of my flesh-were ' to-night carried captive into some den of vagabonds , never to come back to me ? How If It had been my sorrow looking out of the window , watching and waiting-that sorrow worse than " death ? " Then when they found her why did we declare the news all through the households , and everybody l that knew how to pray said , "Thank , God ! " ? Because we are all one , bound by one golden chain of sympathy. Oh ! yes , but I have to tell you that if you ' will aggregate all neighborly , manly , r r' r' wifely , motherly sympathy , it will be found only a poor starving thing compared - pared with the sympathy of our great 1 Shiloh , who has held in his lap the sorrows of the ages , and who is ready 1" to nurse on his holy heart the woes of all who will come to him. Oh ! vrhai a God , what a Savior we have ! * * * t + There are people who think Christ will cone in person and sit on a throne. + Perhaps he may. I should like to see the scarred feet going up the stairs of a palace in which all the glories of the Alhambra , and the Taj Maltal , and the St. Mark's , and the Winter Palace are gathered. I should like to see the world pay Christ in love for what it did to him in maltreatment. I should } like to be one of the grooms of the ( chargers , holding the stirrup as the - King mounts. 0 ! what a glorious time it would pe on earth if Christ would break through the heavens , and right here where he has suffered and died have this prophecy fulfilled. "Unto him shall the gathering of the people I be. But failing in that I bargain to r meet you at the ponderotis gate of 1 1 heaven on the day when our Lord comes back. Garlands of all nations ; on his brow-of the bronzed nations of the South and the pallid rations of the North-Europe . , Asia Africa , North 3 and South America , and the other con- 1 tinerts that may arise meantime from + the sea , to take the places of their rI sunken predecessors ; Arch of Trajan , ! Arch of Titus , Arch of Triumph in the , Champs Elysees , all too poor to wel- b r cone this Icing of kings , and Lord of Lords , and Conqueror of conquerors in his august arrival. Turn out all heaven to meet hIm. Hang all along the route flags of earthly dominion , whether decorated with crescent , or star , or eagle , or lion , or coronet. Hang out heaven's brightest banner , with its one star of Bethlehem and blood- striped of the cross. I hear the pro- cession now. Hark ! the tramp of the feet , the rumbling of the wheels , the clattering of the hoofs , and the shouts of the riders. Ten thousand times ten housand , and thousands of thousands. Put up in heaven's library , right beside - side the completed volume of the r world's ruin , the coin eted volume of Shiloh's triumph. T1 old profuse truggling through the ages fulfilled at + I ast : "Unto him shall the gathering of the people be. " While everlasting ages roll , Eternal love shall feast their soul , And scenes of bliss forever new Rise in succession to their view. PHILOSOPHY.I 1 The love of move } keeps many men rem vice. The locomotive builder is note ; ' for hi n gine-ulty. The proper thin „ for a jury Is to be 1 rm , but not fixed. - The fetter of , ' propriety should be worn i s an ornament , not a chain. ! The surest nay to become poor in e arnest is to try to 1 ep all you bet. ' t The trouble with cheerful people is at their cheerfulness Is too hard to t nub. ; If you don't want your boy to turn out ' ad , don't bear down too hard on the 1 rindstone. There ought to be a law passed that n lilway restaurant keepers shall 'lat. heir apple pies. The more worthless a man is when he , ayes a town , the greater probability at he will come back. We learn that rninisters are . , erfousl ; i , sturbed over the inn otiation known as , le automatic coupler. A fish diet is said to be good for thr rain. Probably this is because the fishl so often in schoeis. The moment a man finds out he has , f een making a fool of himself he has J arned something valuable. The stingier a man i s about valuable ings the more apt he is to give adric' . 3 omparfng your sins with those of oth- , people won't make your sinning any tfer. MANNERS OF GREAT MEN. resence Fox would ' n e h rl stand covered in the C&lo n was so absent-minded that 1 often forgot he was in company. - d' Eaneroft was rather reserved than ' { hernise with most persons whom h. I" . ' t et , burglar ( just acquitted , to his coun- 1)-I will call shortly and see you at - 1 ur office , sir. 'Very good ; but In the aytme , please. ' J b -I-