THE FULTON COUNTY NEWS, McCONNELLSBURO, PA. SYNOPSIS. 9 AdHe In fhonniiyn. n of New France. In foro-il Into miirri;ti:e Willi CotnnuHHtitr 'iiMiKn. hcnclnnan of Governor Ij Hurre. who In plotting to ouiit La Rillfl nttd his Karnsnn from I In frontier Kort Ht. Lou:, on thu Illinois rtver. Adele hoi overheard tli plotters y she had Inherited n irnut (oriuni' rrom her father nnd (hoy hail kept It from hr. I A Harre and Cassion learned of the frlrl'H knowledge I hits tlx rnnr rlejr and tho hurried departure of Ohh lon and a company for fort tit. Louis Tha brldu refuse to nhare sleeping fartra with her himliand. Hhe ha but one friend, young Itone, D'Artlgny. guide. H In chary of helping her. Chevet. the girl's uncla. ono of tha par ty. I founj murdered. Hr only kin dead by a mur. derers hand, Adele feeli more alona In tha world than ever. Her husband's Jealousy and ran cor become pronounced, yet she Is strangely hopeful of getting away from the man and from her present circumstance in life. Then comes death near to her. How she barely escaped, why she has more reasons than one to be profoundly thankful, is told graphically in this install ment. Following the discovery of Chevet, murdered, Cassion accuses D'Artigny of the crime but not in D'Artigny's presence. CHAPTER XII Continued. Tine, so I illil," be said at last. "They wore to tli'part before dawn. The rlllnin is yonder see; well off that farthest jioliit. and 'tis ton laic to overtake hi in now. Sucre! there Is naught for ns to do. Ili.it t see. but to bury Hugo Chevet nml go our way the klug's business cannot wait." On the bench all was In readiness for departure, and It was evident enonuli that Moulin had nlre.idy spread the news of Chevet' murder anions his comrades. Cassion. however, per mitted the fel!i.vs little time for dis cussion, for at his xli.t rp orders they took their places in the ennocs mid pushed off. The priest was obliged to assume Chevct's former position, and I would gladly have accompanied Idm, but Cassion suddenly gripped rue In Ids arms, and without so much ns a word, waded out through the surf, and put nie down In his boat, clamber ing In himself, and shouting his orders to the paddlers. I think we were nil of us glad enough to get away. I know I sat silent and motionless just where he placed me and stared back across the widening water nt the desolate, dis mal scene. How lonely and bearish k enlng It was. those few log houses against the hill, the black d stumps littering the hillside, and the gloomy forest beyond. The figures of a few men were visible along the beac h, and once I saw it hiack-rnhed priest emerge from the door of the mission house, and start down the sleep path. The picture slnwly faded as w.e ad vanced, until linall.v the last glimpse of the log chapel disappeared In the haze, mid we were alone on the mys tery nf the great lake, gliding along a hare, iiiilnhabi ed shore. I was aroused by the totii h of ('fission's hand on niy own us it grasped tho side of the canoe. Adele. ue nid. almost tenderly. "Why should you be so serious? Can not wp be friends?" My eyes met Ills In surprise. "Friends, monsieur! Are we not? Why do you address me like that?" "Because you treat nie ns though 1 were a rriminal," he said eaniestly "As If I hail done you an evil in mak ing you my wife. 'Twas not I who hastened tho matter, but f.a Barre. 'Tis not Just to condemn nie unheard. Jet I have been patient ami kind. I thought it might be that you loved another In truth I Imagined that D'Artlgny had cast Ills spell upon you: yet you surely cannot continue to trust that villain the murderer of your nncle " "llow know you that to be true?" 1 asked. "Because there Is no o'her account ing for it." he explained sternly. "Vlie quarrel last evening, t'le enr'y depar ture before dawn " "At your orders, monsieur." "Ay. but the sergeant tells me the follow was absent from the camp f..r two hours during the night: that In w . ----- . v. . A.' .-: Yi'. if-T.Vv'v' V-.--, isSV-'V Even D'Artigny Kept, Within Sight. the moonlight he saw lilin come down the hill. Kveu If he did not do the deed himself, w must lime discovered the body yet he voiced no a lat in.'' I was siient. mid my eyes fell from bis face to tho green water. " 'Twill he hard t. explain." he went oil. "I'.ttf he shall have a chatief." "A cbajcel You will question him; nd theu " lie hesitated whether to answer me, but there wus a cruel ml!e on his thin lips. "I'uith. I do not know. 'Tis like to be n eoiirtmarrial nf the liock. If ever we get him there: though, lite chances re the fellow will take .0 the wooue " 'e ls hliiiielf hiisiii...i.(. ,u BEYOND feffiO -A. 5TORY OF EARLY" 1 tob ,W RANDALL 1 doubt Uie best thing 1 cun do will bo to sny nothing until we hold him safe, though 'tis hard to pretend with such a villain." He paused, ns If hoping I might speak, and my silence angered him "Hah, If I had my way the young cockerel would face a llle at our lirst camp. Ay! and It will be for you to decide If he docs not." "Wlm t Is your meaning, monsieur?" "That I sm tired of your play-act-lug; of your making eyes at Ihls forest dandy behind my back. Sang illcil! I am done with nil this do you hear? and I have a grip now which will make you think twice, my dear, before you work any more sly tricks on me. Sacrc, you think me easy, hey? I have In my hand so," and he opened nml rloed his finger suggestively, "the life of the Ind." I had one glimpse of bis face as he leaned forward, and there- was a look In It which made me shudder ami turn away. Ills was no Idle threat, nnd whether the man truly loved me or not. his hatred of li'Artigny was suf ficient for nny cruelty. I realized tiie danger, the necessity for compromise-, and yet for the mo ment I lacked power to speak, to ques tion, fearful lest Ids demands would lie greater than I could grant. 1 had no thought of what I saw, and Mill that which my eyes rested upon re mains pictured on my brain, the spar kle of sun on the water, the distant green of the shore, the soldiers hud dled In the canoe, the dark shining bodies of the, Indlnns ceaselessly ply ing the paddles, and beyond us to, the left, another canoe, cleaving the water swiftly, with Pere Allouez' face turned toward us. ns though he sought to guess our conversation. I was aroused by the grip of Passion's, hand. "Well, my beauty," he said harshly, "haven't I waited long enough to learn if it Is war or peace between us?" I laughed, yet I doubt If he gained any comfort from the expression of the eyes which met his. "Why I choose peace of course, mon s'eur." I answered, assuming a care lessness I was f ir from feeling. "Am 1 not your wife? Surely you remind me of it often enough. o I nni not likely to forget: but I resent the In sult nf your words, tmr will you ever win favor from me by such methods. I have been friendly with Sieur d'Artl gny. It Is true, but there is nothing between us. Indeed no word has passed my lips lu his presence I would not be willing for you to hear. So there Is no cause for you to spare him on my account, or rest his fate on any action of mine." "You will have naught to do with the fellow?" "There would be small chance If I wished, monsieur: nnd do you sun pose I would seek companionship with one who had killed my uncle?" "'Twould scarce seem so, yet I know not what you believe." "Nor tlo I myself; yet the evidence Is all against the man thus far. I con fess I should like to hear his defense, but I make you this pledge in ail honot I will have no word with him, ou rendition that you file no charges UU til we arrive nt I'ort St. I.ouis." "Ah!" suspiciously, 'you think he has friends there to hold him Inno cent." "Why should I. monsieur? Indeed, why should I care but to h ive Justice done? I do not wish Ids Mood on Jolir hands, or to Imagine that he is con demned because of his friendship for me ratl.er than any other cri:ut. I know not what friends the man his at the KocU on the Illinois. Ue wa of I ..1 Salles party, and they are no longer In control. I. a I'.:iire said that I'e Il.iugis commanded that po-t, and for nil I know in- Tonly and ull Ills men niay have departed." ""lis not ailoeilier true, nnd for tli it reason we are or b-red to J mi the eoiilliauv. I'e liaugis has the riidit of III ,1, r. 1.. L Utl'llt . V HI II II --T"W ll'i.lt II. Illf. but does Hot possess silthi-iellt Soldiel'l to even-Ne authority. I.a Salle's ineu remain leva! to be Toit'y. and the In dian tribes look to 1 1 iii for leadership. Mon (lieu! It was reported in (Quebec Hint 12. nml savages wciv living about the fort ay! and b'Arligny said he doubted it not, for the meadows were covered with tepees so be Haligls lias small chance to rule until he has force behind him. They say this be Tonty Is of a fighting br-ed the savages call him the umn with the iron hand and so the two rule between lliem. the one for I.a r.arre, and the other for r.n Salle, and we go to give the gov ernor's man more power." "You have sumYicnt force?" "I'nless the Indians become hostile: besides there is to be an overland par ty later to Join us In the spring and Sieur de la buraiilaye. of the regi incut of Carigiiiin-Salliers Is nt the Chicago portage. This I learned ut St. Ignaee." "Then It would seem to me, mon sieur, that you could safely wait the trial of b'Arligny until our arrival 'it the fort. If he does not feel himself suspected, he will make no effort to escape, and I ylve you the pledge you ask." It was not altogether graciously that he agreed to this, yet the man could not refuse, and I was glad enough to escape thus easily, for it was my fear that he might Insist 0:1 niy yielding tni:ch more to preserve b'Arligny from Immediate coudeniuii llou and death. The fellow had the power, nnd the Inclination, and what gooil fortune saved me, I can never know. 1 think he felt a certain fer.r of me. a doubt of how f,.;r he might presume on my good nature. Certainly t gave him small eucour- i ageincul to venture further, and yet ' had he done so I would have been at 1 111 v wit's end. Twice tin; words wer 1 T i A rrTOT T coiomt upon his lips a demand that 1 yield to his mastery but he must have read In niy eyes a defiance he feared to front, for they were not uttered. 'Twas that he might have this very talk that he hail found Hie place alone In Ids ctiiioe, and I would have respected li i tn more hud he dared to carry out his desire. The coward In the man was too apparent, und yet that very cowardice was proof of treachery. What he hesitated to claim boldly he would attain otherwise If he could. I could place no confidence In his word, nor reliance upon his honor. CHAPTER XIII. The Break of Storm. We had no more pleasant weather for days, the skies being overcast and the wind damp and chill. It did not rain, nor were the waves dangerous, although choppy enough to make pad dling tiresome and dilllciilt. A mist obscured the view nnd com pelled us to cling close to the shore so ns to prevent becoming lost in the smother, nnd ns we dure not venture to strike out boldly from point to point, we lost much time lu creep ing along the curves. The canoes kept closer together, never venturing to become separated, and the men stationed on watch In the bows continually called to each other across the tossing waters In guidance. Even D'Artigny kept with in sight, and made camp with us nt night, although lie oiadu uo effort to seek me, nor did I once detect that he even glanced in my direction. The studied Indifference of the man puz zled nie more than It angered, but I believed It was Ids consciousness of guilt, rather than any dislike which caused his avoidance. In a wnv I rejoiced at his following this course, as I felt bound by my pledge to Cas sion. and hud no desire to further arouse the Jealousy of the latter, yet I remained a woman, and consequent ly felt a measure of regret ut being thus neglected nnd Ignored. I had no knowledge of the-date. nor a very clear conception of where we were. The night before we had camped tit the mouth of a small stream, the surrounding forest growing down close to the shore, and so thick as to be almost impenetrable. The men hud set up my tent so close to the water the waves broke scarcely a foot away, and the (Ire about which the others clustered for warmth was but a few yards distant. Wrapped in my blankets I saw b'Artlgny emerge from the darkness and approach Cassion. who drew a map from his belt pocket and spread It open on the ground in the glare of the lire. The two men bent over It, tracing the lines with linger tips, evi dently determining their course for the morrow. Then D'Artigny made a few notes on a scrap of paper, arose to Ids feet and disappeared. They had scarcely exchanged a word, nnd the feeling of enmity le tween them was apparent. Cassion sat quiet, the map still open, and stared after the younger man until he vanished In the darkness. The look upon his face was not a pleasant one. Impelled by a sudden impulse I arose to my feet, the blanket still draped nhout my shoulders, nnd crossed the open space to the (ire. Cassion. hearing the sound of my ap proach, glanced nroiind, bis frown changing Instantly Inio a smile. "Ah, quite an adventure this." he s.iid. adopting a tone of pleasantry. "The first time you have left your tent, niadame?" "The lirst tin e I have felt desire to do so," I retorted. "I feel curiosity lo examine your map." "And waited until I was alone; I appreciate the compliment," and he removed his hat In tilock gallantry. "There win a time when you would have come earlier." "Your sarcasm Is quite uncalled for. You have my pledge relative to the Sieur d'Artlgny. monsieur, which suf lices. If you do not care to give me glimpse of your map, I will retire again." "I'tiuf! do not be so easily pricked, I spoke in Jest. Ay. look nt the pa per, but the tracing Is so poor 'tis no better than a guess where we are. Sit you down, mad.iine. so the lire gives light, and I will show you our posi tion the best I can." "bbl not D'Artigny know?" "He thinks he does, but his memory Is 11 it over clear, ns lie was only over this couise the once, "lis here he has put the mark, while my giuss would be n few leagues beyond." I bent over, my eyes seeking the points Indicated. I had seen the mnp before, yet It told me little, for I was unaccustomed to such study, nnd the few points, and streams named had no real meaning to my mind. The only familiar term was Chicago por tage, ami I pointed to It with my lingers. "Is It there we leave the lake, mon sieur?" "Ay: the rest will be river work. You see this str?ani? 'Tis en lied the pes Phillies, nnd lends Into the Illi nois. D'Artigny s-.iys It is two miles I ti In ml. across a fiat country. 'Twas Cere Marquette ho passed this way lirst. but since then many have trav ersed It. "lis like to take us two days lo make the pirtage." "And way up here Is I'ort ties. Moris, where wp crossed the opening Into (Ireeii P.ay, and we have come since all this distance. Surely 'Us not far along (he shore now lo the portage?'' "Mon dleii. who knows! It looks but 11 step on Hie map, yet 'tis not likely the distance bus ever been measured." ' "What said the Sieur d'Artlgny?" 'hih' 'he Sieur d'Artlgny; ever It a a C.MietWa. d Cf Is the Sieur d'Artlgny. Tin little he knows about It, lu my Judgment, lie would have it thirty leagues yet. but I make It we oie ten leagues to the south of wdiere he puts us. What, are you B'I"K nlready? Faith, I had iiopt you might tarry here a whilo yet. 11 ml hold converse with nie." I paused, In no way tempted, yet uncertain. "You had some word you wished to say, monsieur?" I here ore words enough if you would listen." "'Tis no fault of yours If I do not Rut not now, monsieur. It Is late and cold. We take tho lionts early and I would rest while I can." He was ou his feet, the mnp gripped In Ids hand, but made no effort to stop nip, as I dropped him a curtsy, nnd retreated. But lie was there still when I glanced back from out the safety of the tent. Ids forehead creased by a frown. When he finally turned away the map was crushed shapeless In his Angers. The morning dawned somewhat warmer, but wdth every promise of n storm, threatening clouds hanging above the water, sullen nnd menacing their edges tipped with lightning. The roar of distant thunder came to our ears, yet there was no wind, nnd Cas sion. decided that the clouds would drift southward, and leave us safe passnge niotu; the shore. Ills canoe had been wrenched in making landing the evening before, nnd had talten In consldenble water during thp night This was bnllod out, but the Interior wns so wet and uncomfortable that begged to be glveu place In another boat, nnd Cassion consented, after I had exhibited some temper, ordering a soldier In the sergeant's canoe to exchange places with me. We may have proceeded for half a league, when a fog swept In toward the land enveloping us In Its folds although we were close enough to the shore so ns to keep safely together, the word being passed back down the line, and ns we drew nearer I became awiire that D'Artigny's boat had turned about, nnd he was endeavoring to Induce Cassion to go ashore and make camp before tho storm broke. The latter, however, was obstinate. claiming we were close enough for safety, and finally. In angry voice. In sisted upon proceeding on our course (j'Arugny, evidently reeling argu ment useless, made no reply, but I noticed he held back his paddles and permitted Casslon's canoe to forge ahead. He must have discovered that I wns not with monsieur, for ! saw hlni stare Intently nt each of the other eaiioes, as though to make sure of my presence, shading his eyes with one hand, as lie peered through the thick cuius mist. This action evidenced the first Intimation I had for days of his continued Interest In my welfare, nnd my heart throbbed with sudden pleas ure. nether or not lie felt some pre monition of danger, lie certainly spoke words of Instruction to his Indian pud dlers, and so manipulated his craft as to keep not far distant, although slight ly farther from shore, than the cauoe In which I sat. Cassion had nlready vanished In the fog, which swept thicker nnd thicker along the surface of the water, the nearer boats becoming mere Indistinct shadows. Even within mv own cunoe the faces of those about me appeared gray and blurred, ns the damp vapor swept over us lu dense clouds. It was a ghastly scene, rendered more nwe sotue by the glare of lightning which seemed lo split the vapor, ami the sound of thunder reverberating from the surface of the lake. The water, a ghastly, greenish gray, Ilea vol beneath, giving us little diltl cutty, yet terrifying In Its suggestion of sullen strength, and the shore line was barely discernible to the left n we struggled forward. What obstinacy compelled Cassion to keep us nt the task I know iiotT-perchanco a dislike to yield lo D'Artijtny's advice but the sergeant swore to himself, and turned the prow of our canoe itiward. Iiug fc'lng the shore as closely ns he dared. Ids anxious eyes searching every rift In the mist. Vet, dark and drenr ns (he day was, we had no true warning of the ap proaching storm, for the vapor cling ing to the water concealed from our sight the clouds above. When It came It burst upon us with mad ferocity, the wind whirling to the north and striking us with All the force of three hundred tulles of open spa. The mist was. swept away with that flrs fierce gust, ami we were struggling for life In n wild turmoil of writers. I hud but a glimpse of It a glimpse of wild, raging sea; of black, scurry lug clouds, so close above I could almost reach out and touch lliejn; of dimly revealed canoes (lung about like chips, driving before the blast. (lur own was hurled forward like an arrow, the Indian paddlers working like mad to keep stern to the wind, their long hair whipping about. The soldier) crouched In the bottt tn, cling ing grimly to nny support, their white faces exhibiting the abasement of fear. The sergeant alone spoke, yelling his orders, as he wielded steering paddle. his hat blown from Ids head, his face ghastly with sudden terror. It was hut the L'liinpse nf nn Instant: then n pad dle broke, the cauoe swung sideways, balanced on the crest of a wave and went over. , I wus conscious of cricst shrill, In stantly smothered, nud then I sank, struggling hard to keep above water. yet borne down by thp weight of the canoe. I came up again, choking and half strangled and sought to grip the boat as It whirled past. My fingers found nothing to cling to, slipping along the wet keel, nut II I went down again, but this time holding idj hrentli. . My water-soaked garments and heavy shoes made swimming al most Impossible, yet I struggled to keep face above water. Two men had reached the canoe, nnd had somehow found hold. One of these wus an In dlnn, but they were already too far away to aid me, and In another mo ment bad vanished In the while crest ed waves. Not another of our bout crew was visible, nor could I be sure of where the shore lay. Twice I went down, waves break' Ing over me, and flinging me about like a cork. Vet I was conscious, though strangely dazed and hopeless, I struggled, but more as If lu a dream tiinu In reality. Something black, shapeless, seemed to sweep past me through the water; it was liorne hlgb 011 a wave, and I flung up my hands In protection; I felt myself gripped, lifted partially, then the grasp failed and I dropped hack Into the churning wilier. The canoe, or whatever else It was. was gone, swept remorselessly past by the raging wind, but as came up again to the surface a hand clasped me, drew me ('lose until I had grip 011 a brond shoulder. Ileyend this I knew nothing; with the coming of help, tho sense that I was no longer struggling unaided fot llfo In those treacherous waters, all strength ami consciousness left nie. When I again awoke, dazed, trem bling, a strange blur before my eyes, I was lying upon a sandy beach, witb a cliff towering above me. Its crcsl My Fingera Found Nothing to Cling To. tree-lined, and 1 could hear the dash of waves breaking not far distant. I endeavored to raise myself to look about, but sank back helpless, fairly sTluggling for breath. An arm lifted niy head from the sand, nnd I stared Into n face bending above me. nt lltsl without recollection. Do you think now that bad luck has left Adele, that her husband Is gone forever end that her future is to be a mat ter of her own choosing? (TU UK tJONTl.NL'JiU.I WHY WE STAND ON ONE LEG Few Understand That the Involuntary Action Is to Rest the Bones of the Hips. Naturalists have distinguished w from the higher animals by the fact thut we stand upright on two legs. Hut do we? Watch 11 crowd standing nhout n street orator, and see how many nro really standing on both legs, br try yourself to stand on two legs, and see how soon vou lire reudv to fall from fatigue. The truth 1 we l.uve not yet abso lutely acquired the upright position nscrlhed lo us by the scientists. Even in the nriny, where comfort Is nlwnys siterillciM, to trim iippeuriince. the com mand, "Stand nt ease." which nllow the soldiers to throw one leg buck unit prop themselves upon It, shows how Impossible 11 perfectly upright position Is to miilHtnln for any length of time. As nny ntiatomlst will tell us, we are still built very much like the monkeys Standing perfectly upright can only be done by a very complicated cross train, one set of muscles pushing for ward, another holding buck. With ev ery movement we make n new adjust ment of these muscles takes place. Hie trouble Is nil with our hin hones. Therefore, to rest thes( muscles we pine,, one uf them nt rest by throwing one leg to one side, al lowing the other to do the work. When one leg has rested sulllclently. It takes up the strain and the other takes n pell. Nor does It mutter how much we strengthen our leg muscles by walking or other exercises, the per fectly upright position Is still n hard one to keep. Find a Use for Cacti. Since It lias been practically demon strated that valuable gum and varnish can be extracted from tho desert cacti of Arizona u rclinery for the produc tion of Hi es materials has been erect ed nt Mesa. In Suit river valley, due variety of this plant yields buses fot hewing gum nnri for the inaniifnctiire of rubber. Another variety furnishes tho principal Ingredient for varnish. The crude gums are extracted In the Meld nnd carried to Hie rellnery for mniiiifuclure. Thu innchines for el trading the gum are moved from place to place, exhausting the supply f cacti In fields severally of liTi miles square. Good Reajon. A woman from the city was spend ing the summer In a small town, nnd one day, while doing her marketing, she asked the butcher how ho hup. ueil to choose his business. He hesl- ited n moment, nnd then: "Well, I on't know," he answered, "but I al- ays was fond of niiimiils." I'p to date about 2,m'K) tn?res ot steam railroad In the I'ulted 8tite have been electrluud. Siipllfi '': iV -?r. IrflHMTlONAL siwrSfflooi Lesson Uy H. the Hi 0. flEl.l.mii Acting- Director of Hunitiiy ficlicol Course uf the Mood hidi institute, uncago.) (Copyright. 1M. Wulorn Newspaper Union.) LESSON FOR SEPT. 3 'PAUL, THE HERO. I.EHSON TFXT-II Cor. 11:IM!:V. GOLDEN TEXT My grace Is suflklent for tnee; for my power Is muJe perfect In weukuuHM. II Cor. U.t. This letter raises Interesting ques tions for research und discussion, such as: 1. What la the difference between I'utii's heroism nnd Hint of a soldlert 2. is war essential tn the development of heroism? 3. Which courage is high er, tnorul or physical? I.Paul, the Hero (11 :'J1-2'J). To a man of a sensitive nature, cruvlng peifec- Hon, sarcasm id Irs up the deepest bit terness of the soul. We do not believe I'nul primarily desired to refuse these false charges they were unworthy of him but the knowledge of his suffer ings for the cause of Christ and the truth of the gof.pcl would augment his power to serve the church. For the soke of those whom he bad reclaimed from heathenism he was willing to seem to be boasting. Literally he says: "I speak by way of disparage ment (of myself) ns l hough we hud been weak," yet he adds: "Whereinso ever nny is bold, I am bold also." I'uul had us much to boast of us any one of Ids Jewish opponents (v. 21). "Are they Hebrews? (lf the purest blood. of one nation and language?) So am I." Are they Israelites, worshiping only one God? Are they of the seed of Abraham, Inheritors of the ministry of the promise and the Messianic hope and the kingdom of Cod? Are they ministers of the Messiah, seeking to bring nil men Into his kingdom? "I spenk as a fool, I rpeuk as one beside himself. I am more." In labors he was more abundant ; he had occupied a larger Held with greater results. In stripes above measure those Indicted by the heathen were not limited to forty blows besides other beatings re ferred to In tills list. In prisons oft (Acta 10:23). Frequently exposed to death and to the perls of robbers by bind and sen (v. 2-1). "Five times 1 received forty stripes, snve one, from the Jews" (v. 25). Thrleo wus I beaten with rods; once was I stoned (Acts. H:l!). "Thrice I suffered ship wreck," evidently not recorded In Acts, or his shipwreck on the wuy to Koine was later. . "A night nnd a dny In the deep," this not otherwise recorded. In Jonrneylngs often," suffering from the perils of hard travel, often on loot In uncivilized regions. "In perils of water, literally "In rivers." Ilruiges were rare, nnd floods sudden and fre quent. "In perils of robbers." Kvery road In Asia Minor then U3 now waa Infested with robbers. "In perils of Ids own countrymen;" "In perils by the Centll -s;" "In perils In the city;' In perils In the wilderness;" "In per ils In the sen" from storms, rocks, pi rates; "In perils among fulse breth ren" Judalsing tenchers who were self-seeking Instead of making the gos pel first ((Jul. 2:4; II Cor., 11:1:1). "In weariness and pnluf uluess," literally In labor and travail; "In wntclilngs oft en ;" repeated nights of sleeplessness due to anxiety or puln. "In hunger and thirst. In fastings often," hunger un satisfied for a long time. "In cold and nakedness;" In the mountain pusses badly shod und bndly clothed. Besides these things which were without, In numerable other trials such as the care of or anxiety over the churches (vv. 32, 83). The story of these suf ferings for the suke of saving men from sin and ruin proves I'uul to have been one of the greatest heroes in nil history. I'liul's enemies had little In deed to Bet up ngalnst such a record us this. In contrast, there are those today who assume to have nil scholar- hip and to lie entitled to leadership, but who have neither done nor suffered anything worth while In laying u foun dation for their pretensions, vj'helr assumptions are baseless nnd their Ig norance of "the murks of tho Lord Je sus" Is oft nmazlng. II. God's Sustaining Grace (12:1-10). To I'uul (iod gave one of the greatest tusks over committed to man, vi.., the planting of the gospel In heathen hinds; founding churches;' teaching them the gospel truths of the Lord Je sus. He wrote to these churches two fifths of the New Testament, thirteen Its twenty-seven books, and this work was accomplished under the greatest dllllculty, trltils and suffering. T sustain and guide, the i-ord save hlin "visions and revelations" (v. 1). These revelations come to hi in from the very beginning of his Christian life and continued in every great crisis. Tho first was given ut his conversion. twenty years before this letter was written, when he saw Jesus in His glory and received his marching or ders. Again (vv. 2-4), fourteen years' before, or about A. D. 43. w hen he was In Antloch nnd first entered upon his foreign missionary work. He obtained his gospel directly from the Lord. Sub sequently he had other visions to sus tain and guide lilm. (iod gives us vi sions today through his word, his prov idence and the testimony of his serv ants. Paul's thorn In the flesh (vv. 7-10) Is n matter of conjecture. It wns given him, lest he be exulted Hbove measure, und he compares this vexa tion to the Irritation of n thorn. Some think be had ophthalmia, a common disease of the eyes. Professor Kinase v hlnks It was chronic malarial fever. It apparently affected the dignity of big outword appearance (II Cor.,. 10:1. 10). Paul prayed that this thorn might be removed. The unswer wns to give him grace to bear It thus tnak Ing the hindrance a means of blessing Tenchers ought to study this entire section, beginning nt chapter 10. Paul says that as an apostle he did not In bor In the fields of otheri (10:14-15), lie was not much concerned by what his enemies might say. Known, But Not t T 1 I . understood nssniaiBHBBaaaBBnaaniJ By REV. B. B. STJTCLIPPB Bsutuion Dotutmmt, Moody Dibit Imtituto. Chicago TEXT Ws knew thst all things work together for good to them that lov Q04 to them who ra the called according to his purpose;. Rom. 1:21. There are things we know but do not understand. This la true la th natural us well u the spiritual world. We do nt understand how we full asleep nor how we wake up, but we know wt do botti. (in tlt spiritual plane ws do not understnnj how ull I be expix rlences w? imwH can work togither for good, but we know they do. There would he no need of this text If things went always e t V"s" we desired or If we always understood why they go as they do. But the text gives us n hint whut the Cbrlstluu has before hi III A Certain Prospet The prospect Is thut certain expert- enecs which will be hard to bear "III be t with on life's Journey. There will be many things which will cm nail hurl and which seem altogether un necessary and ns though It were ho-' possible for them to work for good. Think of John the Knptlst locked up In prison. Ho was a man accustomed from his outli to the great outdoors, the tuountuina and the plains the rivers mid brooks the broad noonday sky mid sparkling stnrry heavens were, iintiiral to him. Ho had glveu his life to (iod and thousands hung on his words. Suddenly be Is thrown Into prison for his faithfulness to lh Lord. But the Lord was at baud. The Lord with power to speak u word and blind eyes biiw and deaf ears heard. And even the burs und doors of the grave were broken und opened. Sure ly such u one with such power could open mere prison doors und set the prisoner free. But though he knew John was In prison because of faith fulness to himself, be gave no sign. nor went to the relief of the Impris oned one. John could not understand, but he could know that this awful experience would work together with all Ids other experiences for good. Think of Daniel faithful, true, sin cere, a uiiin of prayer and gmllliiess, yet because of the very fact that lie wus what he wus, be must needs go to the lion's den. He. too, could not understand but he could know "that nil things work together for good." So In the path of the Christian there lie strange, mysterious experiences Unit seem to make the soul slugger and the spirit grow fnlnt There come occurrences which, looked at by sight, seem to be anything but good but seem so evil thnt they cannot be liiade to work together for good. They call the Christian to Implicit trust In Ood's purpose nnd absolute confidence In his ways. In all Ids experiences he Is to walk by faith not under standing perhaps but knowing Hint, spite of appearances, all things work Ingot her for good. But while the be liever has this prospect, he ulso has A Certain Promise. When Peter came to things he did not understand Ju the dealings of the Lord, he, naturally, wonted to under stand. Instead of explaining, the Lord simply said: "What .1 do thou know est not now; but thou shall under stand hereafter." This promise each Christian may take to himself, know ing that some blessed day all ques tions will be answered and be wlil understand how us well us "know that all things work together for good." We cannot think of John the I'm pt 1st or Daniel or Stephen or tiny of the heroes of fultli. who have met trying and hit ter experiences which they could not understand, even now finding fault nnd saying to the Uml: "Thoa shonldst have done It, differently. O Lord." The Christian may not under stand In the present time why I lie Lord permits the hurt but lie knows that till things work together for gisd nnd some day he will understand ilio need for the linn! things und how they have worked together for gissl. And wlille be faces this prospect and rests In this promise he has A Certain Provision. A provision the Lord has iiindo t meet every experience. Irrespective of how deep the hurt he permits or how bitter the cup he prescnis he .. makes provision that will keep (he heart In perfect peace. The command to the Christian reads: "Be anxious (or worried) for nothing, but In ev erything by prayer und suppllcuilon with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God tind ihu peace of God which passed! under standing shall keep your hearts and minds In Christ Jesus." He cures for us and desires with longing thai we should cast nil our care upon him. He will comfort, he will sustain, be will uphold, so (hat In the midst of hard und bitter experiences which cannot he understood, the Christian looks for ward to the day when he will under sfnnd, while he muy enjoy In the meantime the pence that pusseth all understanding. The victorious shout of the Christian Is: "We kiiow that all things work together for good to them thut love God." Life's Real Duties.' Let us II v us llnmcli we hud to II V forever: let uh not live as thouirh w hud to die In order to confine all out cures to this life: think of thai lif which Is eternally reserved for us h fore Ood. find for God. Therefore lei us henceforth begin to live for him, since It Is for htm that we must live In eternity. I't us live for litis and love hliu with lill our heurts. Bossuet '7
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