Te a a mA Se ine CORN-PLANTING, The earth is awake and the birds have coms, There is life in the beat of the breeze, And the basswood tops are alive with the hum And the flash of the hungry bees; The frogs in the swale in concert croak, And the glow of the spring is here, For the bursting leaves on the roughold oak Are as big as a red squirrel’s ear. From the ridge-pole dry the corn we pluck, Ears ripe and yellow and sound, That were saved apart. with a red for luck, The best that the huskers found ;, We will shell them now. for the Indian folk Say, ‘‘Plant your corn without fear When the bursting leaves on the rough old oak Are as bigas a red squirrel's ear.” No crow will pull and no frost will blight Nor grub cut the tender sprout, No rust will burn and no leaves turn white, But the stalks will be tall and stout And never a weed will have power to choke, | Or blasting wind to sear, The corn that we plant when the leaves of the oak Are 2s big as a rad squirrel’s ear. —P. McArthur. in Harper's Weekly. THROUGH FIRE TO WIN. HE greatest | case of fem- inine brav- ery and de- votion that ever came under my notice, said my friend, ! who had| been a prominent detective in his day, was that of Margaret Whitney, the | daughter of the doorkeeper of Messrs. Bangshaw Brothers, bankers. On the eventful night in question | Mergaret’s father had been sent out of | town on business for the firm, and she | was the sole occupant of the rooms in | banls. She had fallen asleep on a lounge, and was aroused by stealthy approaching feetover the car- | peted stairway, just outside the door. She arose hurriedly and with a sudden impulse she threw the door wide open. She no sooner had done so than two masked men suddenly sprang upon her. The light was dashed from her hand, their strong arms held her in a vice- like grip, and before she could utter a cry a voice whispered: ‘Make the slightest noise and you are a dead woman! Do as you are told and no harm shall befall you.” Margaret Whitney was as brave as steel. She felt the muzzle of a pistol pressed against her forehead, but she accepted the situation at once, and re- taining perfect self-control, shereplied in a low voice: “Only release me and tell me what it is I must do.” They released her, after a moment's consultation, and relighted the candle, by which she could see that their faces were covered with black crepe vails in which holes were cut for the eyes and mouth, and they seemed shod with some felt-like material that deadened the sound of their footsteps cousider- ably. One of the men gnickly and silently searched the room, while the other stond guard over her. The former presently returned, dangling a bunch of keys. ‘Whose keys are these and what do they open?’ was asked the girl, in a | low, commanding voice. “They are my father's keys,” said Margaret, ‘‘and they open the differ- ent rooms and places down stairs.” “Do they open the cellar and the strong box in which the money is kept?” ‘“No; one passkey is in the posses- sion of ths elder Mr. Bangshaw, the other is in the possession of Mr. Hosea, the cashier. tain admission to the cellar during their absence.” “Come down stairs with us,” said the man, holding immediate guard over her. As they went down the lower flight Margaret was surprised to sce another figure—-that of a woman, who was clothed in a dark mantle from head to feet—who further lighted their pro- gress down with the slender ray of a lantern in her hand. “Is it not possible,” said Margaret's chief captor, when they had reached the foot of the stairs, ‘‘that one or the sound of | No one can ob- | i cord. she proceeded to tie Margaret firmly to the pillar. Her arms were left at liberty till the last, when they were bound together at the wrists with a band of some strong woven stuff, which held them as securely as if they had been riveted there. ‘‘You see, I would not cause you un- necessary pain,” said the courteous burglar, when all was made fast; ‘‘and to have fastened your arms down to your sides for a couple of hours would have been the refinement of cruelty. ‘“‘But one point still remains. You must give me your word of honor that you will not ery out, nor in any way call for assistance while here, other- | wise I shall be under the unpleasant | necessity of having you gagged.’ | *“I give yon my word,” assented the | doorkeeper’s daughter, after a moment of silent thought, *‘not to ery out while I remain here.” She began to breathe more freely when they left her to herself, as they now at once did, with no other com- pany than the tiny, faintly-burning gas jet already mentioned, by which she could just make out the familiar features of the old-fashioned but richly-fur- nished private office of the banker brothers. A few desperate efforts to free her- self only served to convince her of their futility. her bonds and began to think. She knew that before a single dollar in the Bangshaw Brothers’ strong box could be touched the burglars would have to force open two iron doors of (immense strength, and knowing but little of the modern improvements in the science of housebreaking, she made no doubt that these doors would prove impregnable to all attempts. Many dreary minutes passed and her eramped attitude and the tightness of the cords that bound her gradually caused her such intense pain that she could scarcely refrain from crying out: Suddenly, in the midst of her tor- ture, a thought flashed into her brain which they dwelt, directly over the | thst left no room for suyihing else ’ v { but surprise and delight. { | before her eyes was suddenly revealed There right to her at one glance a sure and speedy { mode of escape. { The piller to which Margaret was tied was within a short yard of the desk that had been broken open; and right upon the edge of this desk was the upright gas pipe from which sprang the small jet, still burning, of which mention has already been made. | By stretching out her arms Mar- garet could hold her wrists directly | over the desk and let the flame burn away the band by which they were bound together She knew the terrible scorching that it would inevitably cost her, but she did not hesitate an instant. She at once thrust out her hands with a swift movement, and so held them extended, while the jet of bluish flame played on her wrists and the bands that secured them. She shut her eyes, held her breath, locked her teeth, and her eyebrows came together in a wreathing frown of supreme anguish. Over and round the delicate skin and beating pulse the scorching fire- snake wound and wound, with its searing bite, its exeruciating embrace, and presently the encompassing band burst into flame. Even then she did not falter, though it seemed that her very soul would shriek forth from its | tenement. | In a few moments—moments that seemed hours—the blazing ligature gave way. Her hands were free, but | blackened, blistered, almost cindered, they fell helpless to her sides. Then | she gave a great sigh and almost fainted. | But the returning knowledge of her | peril, and of the great work she had set | out to do (her father’s situation in the [ bank might depend upon it), renerved her, and with a great effort she began I to pull herself together. In spite of the pain in her wrist, she began with nimble fingers to loosen one of the knots in the cord by which ! she was fastened to the post. offered no great opposition to efforts: and the first knot loosened, the rest quickly followed. The next thing to do was evidently | | to make her escape {rom the bank I'without alarming the thieves in the i treasure cellar, if that were possible, | and then raise such an alarm as would | cause their arrest before they could | make off with their booty. Taking off her shoes, she stole out | of the office to the head of the cellar Then she resigned herself to : This | her | so softly as not even to cause them to | turn a glance in her direction (which, of course, would seal her fate), and then creep back with the keys and close the trap upon them by means of the heavy spring-lock door at the top. But it was the only course open to her, desperate as it was, and she adopt- ed it with characteristic boldness and fearlessness. Slowly, inch hy inch, and with no more sound then a shadow, she stole into the doorway, and then down the staircase, step by step, counting them one by one by the palpitation of her own heart as she proceeded. She reached the bottom of the steps, fifteen in all, without causing them to turn a look. The next difiiculty was to pick up the keys, which were threaded on a | steel ring, without detection. Even this difficulty was conquered at last. She took the keys up from the floor without so much as a rustle, ard had proceeded three steps on her perilous upward journey, when there was a sharp report of a pistol, and, as Margaret set foot on the topmast step, she felt something strike her near the shoulder blade. But she staggered forward into the corridor, wheeled quickly around, and flung herself---head, arms, body— against the oaken door, which, yield- ing to her strength, turned on its well-oiled hinges and, with a little triumphant click, shut up, as in a trap, the three thieves below. Without the key this door, which locked of itself when pushed to, could neither be opened from one side or the other; with the key it could be opened on either side. She had hardly closed it securely be- fore she heard the two men inside tearing and beating at it like madmen in their desperate efforts to get out. Still holding her bunch of keys, she ran out of the office and down a passage that led to the side entrance of the bank. She was trembling all over now, and had hardly strength enough remaining to unfasteu the heavy outer door. At last she sped down the silent street in search of assistance. For- tunately, upon reaching the first corner she nearly tumbled into the arms of a policeman, who was coming from the opposite direction. What sort of incoherent story she told him she could never afterward quite remember; but been to the purpose. The policeman at once summoned some comrades to his assistance, and a strong posse of officers reached the bank and took the burglars in custody. It turned out that the rascals were none others than a certain so--called Major Woolford, his wife and his ser- vant, who had some four months pre- viously become the tenants of an empty house that stood next door to the bank. Of course they were sub- sequently tried, convicted and sen- tenced. As for brave Margaret Whitney, she hour, but more substantial advantages accrued to her and hers through her heroism and devotion. “I saw Margaret about two years after that adventure,” said my friend, the detective, in concluding his narrative. ‘‘Her husband was doing thrivingly as a small shopkeeper, and she was a happy wile and mother, although her wrists still bore the scorching scars of that terrible ordeal of fire, to which she so unhesitatingly submitted herself in the cause of honor and duty. ‘The wound in her shoulder had quickly healed, and I am sure that were a record kept of the brave and self-sacrificing deeds of young women, her name would stand high upon the list.”—Boston Globe. I ——— eet The Bigness of the Fair. The bigness of the World's Fair op- presses. When Congressman Seth Cobb, who has been something of a traveler in many lands, was here, he | said: | “I almost feel as if the Fair is too | big. There is too much to see. One | can’t do justice to the whole. One must go away with a dissatisfied feel- | ing that it has not been done as it de- { serves to be done. Here 1s a twenty or twenfy-five-million-dollar fair. 1t | doesn’t seem possible that it can be | conducted to a finish save at great | financial sacrifice. What will be the effect of that on future World's Fair | propositions? I declare I begin to | think that perhaps a ten-million-dollar other of the passkeys may be locked in | Stairs, up which a faint ray of light | fair would have been more satisfac- the desk of their private office.” ‘It is possible, but not likely,” the calm reply. was | was shining, and peeped down. Before reaching this point she heard faint and hollow—- | voices—broken, At the leader's command Marraret | iss1ing from below, with now and then pointed out ihe key that opened the 2 dull, solid thud, like the mufiled blow door of the private office, and the desk | at which the Bangshaw Brothers gen- | erally sat, one facing the other. | A smali jet of gas, commonly used | for mcléing sealing-wax, was then | lighted; a beg, containing a number of housebreaking hieplements, swathed in thick folds of flannel, was next pro- | duced; and the desk drawers wers | speedily forced open and searched. | Bat no key wus te be found. | The leader consulted in whispers | with his companion a moment, and | then requested Margaret to poiut out! the key that opened the top celiar | door, saying that they vould have to | burst open the lower onc. She indi- | cated the proper ke#, when he re- | sumed : | “I must corapliment you on your | sensible conduct in this affair. Now, { however, you must excusc me if I am | compelled to make you a prisoner for | awhile. Dear friend, the cord.” | The last words addressed to were i the masked woman, who up to this but obtain possession of it, she saw not cialist alone, the visitor who cares for! time had been a mere looker-on, but | who now started into sudden activity. | She placed Margaret with her back | to a large iron pillar which supported | safe doors; of some heavy implement. Now, as she looked down she maw that the door at the foot of the stairs had been forced open, and that the burglars were working upon the great safe itself. One of the men was busy with = flan- nel-swathed crowbar, which he was us- ing as a lever to pry open one of the the second man was drill- inz holes in the other door with a very strange-looking implement, the like of which Margaret had never seen before ; while the woman was lighting these operations with a lamp held aloft in one hand, these had their backs to the staircase. This entire picture Marzarvct’s eyos | took in at a glance. They took in one thing more—the bunch of keys with which they had opened the door at the head of the stairs. This bunch of keys was lying on the lower landing, close to the cellar door that had been forced open. Could she only a way of escape for herself, but a way by which the thieves might be canght in their own trap. The peril was tremendens! tho tory to the visitor, better in its influ- ence on futuro efforts, and certainly more profitable to those people who have invested their money.” Congressman Cobb has advanced an idea which will be suggested to the minds of many who come and marvel. The other day an old man entered the grounds for the first time. He passed through the turnstile, climbed the stairs to the intra-mural electric cars, which make a three-quarters circuit of the park on high trestle work. He got aboard and turned to look. There he | stood between two seats staring at the scenes, as the cars curved in and out, skirting the enormous buildings and opening up vista after vista. He forgot to sit down. Over his face spread the | look of one entirely dazed. The spec- | tacle paralyzed his senses. [ There will be two classes of visitors { upon whom the Fair will have a widely i diverse effect. One will leave with a feeling of keen rogret at the lack of | time to do it thoroughly, in detail. The other will go away with a con- fused, dazed impression of having seen) too much for mental powers to grasp either in whole or in part. The spe- | | i i | { i ! { but one feature, will find complete sat-! { isfaction. He will revel in a single de-i partment or in a single section, and! | virtually ignoring the rest he will get S 3 = hs i 3 2 . oh wit st inte : the ceiling. and then, producing from | chances apparently bui one in a u- | through with what most interests him. some hidden pocket a coil of long, thin | 1 dred of her beinz able io creep down | —>3t. Louis Glebe-Democrat. , down into his arrogant heart. PRIDE OR HUMILITY | REV. DR. TALMAGE CONTRASTS RRNA SLE Pharisee and Publican. Different Prayers and How God Heard Them. TEXT : ‘God be merciful unto me, a sinner!” —DLuke xviii., 18. No mountain ever had a more brilliant coronet than Mount Moriah. The glories of the ancient temple blazed there. The moun- tain top was not originally large enough tc hold the temple, and so a wall 600 feet high was erected, and the mountain was built out into that wall. It was at that point that satan met Christ and tried to persuade Him to cast Himself down the 600 feet. The nine gates of the temple flashed the light of silver and gold and Corinthian brass, which Corinthian brass was mere precious stones melted and mixed and crystallized. The temple itself was not so very large a structure, but the courts and the adjuncts of the architecture made it half a mile in circumference, We stand and look upon that wondrous structure. What’s the matter? What strange appearance in the temple? Is it fire? Why, it seems as if it were a mantle all kin- dled into flame. What's the matter? Why, its the hour of morning sacrifice, and the smoke on the altar rises and bursts out of the crevices and outoithe door and wreathes the mountain top with folds of smoke through which glitter precious stones gathered and burnished by royal mu- niflcence. I see two men mounting the steps of the building. They go side by side: they are very unlike ; no sympathy between them — the one the pharisee, proud arrogant, pom- fous he goes up the steps of the building; © seems by his manner to say: ‘““Clear the track! Never before came up these steps such goodness and consecration.’ Beside him was the publican, bowed down, seemingly, with a load on his heart. They reach the inclosure for worship in the midst of the temple. The pharisee goes close up to the gate of the holy of holies. He feels he is worthy to stand there. He says practically “I am so holy I want to go into the holy of holies. Oh Lord, I am a very good man! I am a remarkably good man. Why, two days in the week I eat absolutely nothing. I am 80 good. I'm very generous in my conduet toward the poor. Ihave no sympathy with the common rabble ; especially have I none with this poor, miserable, commonplace, wretched publican, who happened to come up the stairs beside me.” The publican went clear to the other side of the inclosure, as far away from the gate of the holy of holies as he could get, for he felt unworthy to stand near the sacred place. And the Bible says he stood afar off. Stand- ing on the opposite side of this inclosure, he bows his head, and as orientials when they have any trouble beat their breasts, so he begins to pound his breast as he cries, “God be merciful to me, a sinner !” Oh, was there ever a greater contrast? The incense that wafted that morning from the The Their . ! pries's censer was not so sweet as the pub- it must have ! |i can’s prayer floating into the opening heavens, while the prayer of the pharisee died on his contemptuous lips and rolled Worshiping there, they join each other and go side by side down the steps, the pharisee cross, wretched, acrid, saturnine—the publican with his face shining with the very joys of i heaven, for “I tell you that this man went not only became the heroine of the down to his house justified rather than the other.” Now, I put this publican’s prayer under analysis, and I discovered in the first place that he was persuaded of his sinfulness. He was an honest man; he was a taxgatherer; he was an officer of the government. The publicans were taxgatherers, and Cicero says they were the adornment of the State. Ot coursethey were somewhat unpopular, because people then did not like to pay their taxes any better than people now like to pay their taxes. and there were many who dis- liked them. Still I suppose this publican, this tax gath- erer, was an honorable man. He had an office of trust ; there were many hard things said about him, and yet, standing there in that enclosure of the temple amid the demonstrations of God’s holiness and power, he cries out from the very depths of his soul, “God be merciful to me, a sinner!” By what process shall I prove that I am a sinner? By what process shall I prove that you are a sin- ner? Shall I ask you to weigh your motives, to scan your actions, to estimate your be- havior? I will do nothing of the kind. I will draw my argument rather from the plan of the work that God has achieved for your salvation. You go down in a storm to the beach, and you see wreckers put on their rough jackets and launch the lifeboat and then shoot the rockets to show that help is coming out into the breakers, and you immediately cry, *‘A shipwreck I” And when I see the Lord Jesus Christ putting aside robe and crown and launch out on the tossing sea of human suf- fering and satanic hate, going out into the thundering surge of death, I cry, “A ship- wreck I” I know that our souls are dreadfully lost by the work that God has done to save them. Are you a sinner! Suppose you had a com- mercial agent in Charleston or San Fran- cisco, or Chicago, and you were paying him promptly his salary, and you found outafter awhile that notwithstanding he had drawn the salary he had given nine-tenths of ali the time to some other commercial establish- ment. Why, your indignation would know no bounds. And yet that is just the way we have treated the Lord. « He sent us out into the world to serve Him, He has taken good care of us. He has clothed us, He has sheltered us, and He has surrounded us with 10,000 benefactions, and yet many of us have given nine-tenths of our lives to the service of the world, the flesh and the devil. Why, my friend, the Bible is full of confessions, and I do not find anybody is pardoned until he has confessed. What did David say? “I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord.” What did Isaiah say? ‘Woe is me, because I am a man of unclean lips.” What did Ezra say? *‘Our iniquities are inereased over our head, and our trespass is grown up into heaven.” And among the millions before the throne of God to-night not. one got there until he con- fessed. The coast of eternal sorrow is strewn with the wreck of those who. not taking the warning, drove with the cargo of immortal hope into the white tangled foam of the breakers. Repent! the voice celestial cries, Nor longer dare delay: The wretch that scorns the mandate dies And meets the fiery day. But I analyze the publican’s prayer a step further, and I find that he expected no relief except through God’s merey. Why did not he say, I am an honorable man. When I get $10 taxes, I pay them right over to the gov ernment. I give full permission to anybody to audit my accounts.” I appeal to Thy jus- tice, 0 God! He made no such plea. "He threw himself flat on God's merey. Have you any idea that a man by breaking off the scales of the leprosy can change the disease? Have you any idea that you can by changing your life change your heart-—that you can purchase your way to heaven? Come, try it. Come, bring all the bread you ever gave to the hungry, all the medicine you ever gave to the sick, all the kind words you have ever uttered, all the kind deeds that have ever distinguished you. Add them all up into the tremendous aggregate of good words and works, and then you will see Paul sharpen his knife as he cuts that spirit of self satisfaction as he cries, ‘By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified.” Well, say a thousand men in this audience, if I am not to get anything in the way of peace from God in good works, how am I to be saved? By mercy. Here I stand to tell the story; mercy, mercy, long suffering mercy ; sovereign mercy, infinite mercy, omnipotent mercy, everlasting mercy. Why, it seems in the Bible as if all language were exhausted, as if it were stretched until it broke, as if all expression were struck dead at the feet of prophet and apostle and evans gelist when it tries to describe God's mercy. Oh, says some one, that is only adding to my crime if I come and confess before God and seek His mercy. No, no. The mur- derer has come, and while he was washing the blood of his victim from his hands, looked into the face of God and cried for mercy, and his soul has been white in God's pardoning love. And the soul that has wandered off in the streets and down to the very gates of hell has come back to her Father's house, throwing her arms around His neck, and been saved by the mercy that saved Mary Magdalen. But, says some one, you arethrowing open that door of mercy too wide. No, I will throw it open wider. I will take the re- sponsibility of saying that if all this audi- ence, instead of being gathered in a semi- circle. were placed side by side, in one long line, they could all march right through that wide open gate of mercy, ‘‘Whoseover,” ‘‘whoseover.” Oh, this mercy of God—there is no line long enough to fathom it ; there is no ladder long enough to scale it ; there is no arithmetic facile enough to calculate it ' no angel’s wing can fly across it. Heavenly harpers, aided by choirs with feet like the sun, cannot compass that harmony of mercy, merey. It sounds in the rumbling of the celestial gate. I hear it in the chiming of the celestial towers. I see it flashing in the uplifted and downcast coronets of the saved. I bear it in the thundering tread of the bannered hosts around about the throne, and then it comes from the harps and crowns and thrones and processiors to sit down, unexpressed, on a throne overtopping all heaven—the throne of merey. How I was affected when some one told n. in regard to that accident on Long Island sound, when one poor woman came and got her hand on a rait as she tried to save her- self, but those who were on the raft thought there was no room for her, and one man came and most cruelly beat and bruised her hands until she fell off. Oh, I bless God that this lifeboat of the gospel has room enough for the sixteen hundred millions of the race —room for one, room for all, and yet there is room! I push this analysis of the publican’s prayera step further and find that he did not expect any mercy except by pleading for it. He did not fold his hands together as some do, saying. “If I'm to be saved, I'll be saved. If I'm tobe lost, I'll be lost. and there! is nothing for me to do.” He knew what was werth having was worth asking for ; hence this earnest cry of the text, ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner!” It was an earnest prayer, and it is charac. teristic of all Bible prayers that they were answered—the blind man,*‘Lord.that I may receive my sight,” the leper, Lord if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me ciean:’’ sinking Peter, “Lord, save me;" the publican, “God be merciful to me, a sinner;’”” But if you come up with the tip of your finger and tap at the gate of mercy it will not open. You bave got to have the earnestness of the war- rior. who, defeated and pursued, djsmounts from his lathered steed and with gauntleted fist pounds at the Plage gate, You have got to have the earnestness of the man who, at midnight, in the fourth story, has a sense of suffocation, with the house in flames, goes to the window and shouts to the firemen, ‘‘Help!” Oh, unfor- given soul if you were in full earnest I might have to command silence in the audi- tory, for your prayers would drown the voice of the speaker,and we would have to pause in the great service. It is becanse you do not realize your sin before God that you are not this moment crying, ‘‘Mercy, mercy, mercy !” This prayer of the publican was also an humble prayer. The pharisee looked up : the publican looked down. You cannot be sived as a metaphysician or as a rbetorician you cannot be saved as a scholar vou cannot be saved as an artist ; you cannot be saved as an official. If you are ever saved at all, it will be as a sinner. “God be merciful to me, a sinner "’ Another charaeteristio of the prayer of the publican was, it had a ring of confidence, It was not a ery of despair. He knew he was going to get what he asked for. He wanted mere, 9 asked for it, expecting it. And do you tell me, O man, that God has pro- vided this salvation and is not going to let you have it? If 3 man build a bridge across a river, will he not let people go over it? If a phy- sician gives a prescription to a sick man, will he not let him take it? If an architect puts up a building, will he not let people in it? If God provides salvation, will He not let you have it? Oh, if there be a pharisee here, a man who says, I am all right, my past life has been right, I don't want tho pardon ofthe gospel, for I have no sin to pardon, let me say that while that man is in that mood there is no peace for him, there is no pardon, no salvation, and the probability is he will go down and spend eternity with the lost pharisee of the text. But if there be here one who says I want to be better, I want to quit my sins, my life has been a very imperfect life,, how many things have I said that I should not have said, how many things I have done I should not have done, I want to change my life, I want to begin now, let me say to such asoul, God is waiting, God is ready, and you are near the kingdom, or rather you have en- tered it, for no man says I am determined to serve God and surrender the sins of my life; here, now, I consecrate myself to the Lord Jesus Christ who died to redeem me ; no man from the depth of his soul says that but be is already a Christian, My uncle, the Rev. Samuel X. Talmage, of Augusta, Ga., was passing along the streets of Augusta one day, and he saw 2 man, a black man, step from the sidewalk out into the street, take his hat off and bow very slowly. My uncle was not a man who de- manded obsequiousness, and he said, *‘What do you do that for?” “Oh,” says the man, “‘massa, the other night I was going along the street, and I had aburden onmy shoulder, and I was sick, and I was hungry, and I came to the door of your church, and you were preaching about ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner !” and I stood there at the door long enough to hear you say that if a man could utter that prayer from the depth of his soul God would pardon him and finally take him to heaven. Then I put my burden on my shoulder, and I started home. I got to my home and I sat down, and I said, ‘God be merciful te me, asinner!” but it got darker and darker, and then, massa, I got down on my knees, and I said, ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner!” and the burden got heavier, and it got darker and darker. I knew not what to do. Then I got down on my face, and I cried, ‘God be merci- ful to me, a sinner! and away off I saw a light coming, and it came nearer and nearer and nearer until all was bright in my heart, and Irose. I am happy now—the burden is all gone—and I said to myself if ever I meet you in the street I would get clear off the sidewalk, and I would bow down and take my hat off before you. 1 feelthat I owe more to you than to any other man, That is the reason I bow before you." Oh, are there not many now who can utter this prayer, the prayer of the black man, the prayer of the publican, ‘‘God be merciful to me, a sinner?” While I halt in the sermon, will you not all utter it? I do not say audi- bly, but utter it down in the depths of your souls’ consctoasness. Yes, the sigh goes all through the galleries, it goes all through the pews, it goes all through these aisles, sigh after sigh—God be merctful to me, a sinner! Have you all uttered it? No, there is one soul that has not uttered it. too proud to ut- ter it, too hard to utter it. O Holy Spirit descend upon that one heart. Yes, he begins to breathe it now. No bowing of the head yet, no starting tear yet, but the prayer is begineing—it is born. God be merciful to me, a sinner! Have all uttered it? Then I utter it myself, for no one in all the house needs to utter it more than my own soul— God be merciful tc me, a sinner! —*Tue Man in the Moon,” ‘‘Annie Rooney’ and “The Man ‘lhat Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo'’ have been temporar- ily enjoined at Asbury Park, N. J. The in. junction should be made perpetual and world-wide. SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON FORSUNDAY, JULY 18. “Paul at Athens,” Acts xvii, 22.31, Golden Text: John iv., Commentary, 22. “Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars hill and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive shat in all things ye are too superstitious,” or, as in the R. V., ‘‘somewhat religious.” We have passed by his farewell to Philippi his preaching at Thessalonica and Berea, an: the persecutions he endured at each place. We now find him at Athens, waiting for Silas and Timothy, whom he had left at Berea. His spirit is greatly stirred by the idolatry of the city, and in the synagogue of the Jews and in the market of the city he preached Jesus and the resurrection. From the time that Jesus met him on the way to Damascus he determined to know nothing but Christ and Him crucified (I Cor. ii., 2), and the sub- stance of his preaching may be gathered from this statement. He ‘‘reasoned with them out of the Scripture, opening and al- leging that Christ must needs have suffered and risen again from the dead, and that this Jesus whom I preach unto you is Christ” (Acts xvii., 2, 3). 23. “For as I passed by and beheld your devotions I found an altar with this inserip- tion, To the Unknown God. Whom there- fore ye ignorantly worship Him declare I unto you.” It would seem that in their many altars to many gods they feared lest any should have been omitted, and hence tnis altar with its strange inscription. Very re- ligious they were, but there was nothing to it, for they knew not God. It is more sad, however, to think of the religiousness of to- day, which means nothing. 24. ‘God, that made the world and all things therein, seeing that He is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands.” He takes them right to the first of Genesis and would make them acquainted with the Creator of all things. They were without excuse for not knowing His eternal power and Godhead, for the works of His hands should have taught them this (Rom. i., 19, 20). Before we can come to God we must believe that there is a God (Heb. xi., 6), and the one whom these Athe~ nians knew not was the only one whom they ought to know—the Lord who is the true God, the living God and King of Eternity (Jer. x., 10, margin). 25. ‘Neither is worshiped with men’s hands, as though He needed anything, see- ing He giveth to all life and breath and all things.” What startling things these must have been to be heard for the first time! A God greater than sun, moon or stars, heaven or earth, and the author and giver of all life and being. Yet this is the old, familiar story of the Bible which we possess, but are so slow to give to others, which tells of Him in whose hand is the soul of every living thing and the breath of all mankind (Job xii., 10). It is His nature to give. He so loved that He gave His only begotten Son that whatsoever receiveth Him shall never perish (John iii., 16; x., 27, 28). 26. ‘‘And hath made of one blood all Na- tions of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth and hath determined the times be- fore appointed and the hounds of their habi- tation.” All Nations may truly say: ‘Have we not all one Father? Hath not 6he God created us” (Mal. ii., 10)? And as to the bounds of habitation, not only has God or- dered even this, but He has done so with re- spect to Israel, as it is written, ‘When’ the Most High divided to the Nations their in- heritance, when Adam, He set the bounds of the people ae- cording to the number of the children of Is- rael” (Deut. xxxii., 8). 27. “That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after Him and find Him, though He be not far from every ons of us.” If they would live up to the light they had God would find ways to send them mores light, asin the case of Cornelius and the Ethiopian eunuch. The exhortations to seek the Lord are very many and very instructive. See such as Isa. lv., 6, 7; Zeph. ii., 3; Jer. xxix., 13; Math. vi., 33. His nearness to us is very strikingly described in Rom. x., 6-10, but there it speaks of those who have His word and raises the question (verses 14, 15) of how can they hear it uniess some one take it to them. 28. “For in Him we live and move and have ourbeing, as certain also of you own poets have said, “Yor we are also His off- spring.’” The flrst clause is very briefly stated in Col. i., 17, “By Him all things con- sist.” The use which Paul makes here and in Titus i., 12, of the Greek aurhors seems to indicate the advantage to a missionary of some knowledge of the writings of the peo- ple if by such knowledge they may be turned from vanities to the trus God (Acts xiv., 15). Weare to use all means which God can bless that we may by all means save some (I Cor. ix., 22. 29. ““Forasmuch, then, as w> are the off- spring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold or silver or stone graven with art and man’s device.” Quite a commentary upon this verse is found in Isa. xl, 18-23, and elsewhere in the prophets. Is not the same sin manifest to- day even in the church when so much strength is spent in raising money? The The ery is for gold and silver and wisdom of man, instead of for God, Who owns the gold and silver and has all the wisdom (Hag. ii., I Cor.1i., 30). If those who profess to believe in God would only trust Him and not in idols, either men or metal, He would soon show Himself strong on our behalf and pour out more blessing than we could manage (II Chron. xvi., 9). 30. “And the times of this ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent.” In the R. V. it is said ‘God overlooketh,” which is a much better translation. He allowed to go unpun- ished because He is long suffering and not willing that any should perish. Jesus told the Jews that God suffered many things be- cause of the hardness of their hearts (Math. xix., 8; Mark x., 5). He was grieved all the same (Isa. Ixiil.,, 10; Mark iii., 5), but bora with them and many a tims forgave them as His sevant Moses pleaded for them. But we live in different days, but God has now made full provision for all through the finished work of His dear Son and commands all to believe on Him (John iii., 23). 31. “Because He hath appointed a day i the which He will judge ns in ie sousness by that man whom He hath or- dained, whereof He hath given assurance anto all men, in that He hath raised Him from the dead.” The Greeks had known some great men, leaders and teachers of the people, but they had nsver known one who having died lived again; hence when Paul got to this point they either mocked or turned away. Jesus, risen from the dead alive forevermore, having all power in heaven and on earth, is the one who in all things has and must have the pre-eminence, The great question now is not, ““Am I moral or religious or getting better?” but, first of all, ‘‘Have I received Jesus?” See John i. 12; I John v., 12. Then am I so living unto Him that in that day the works shall not be burned up, but rewarded (I Cor. iif, 11-15). ~—Lesson Helper. A Severe Hail Storm. A severe hail storm prevailed throughout’ Eastern Pennsylvania, Wednesday “after- noon and did great damage to growingcrops The storm in the vicinity of Reading was unusually violent. In Philadelphia thou sands of panes of window glass ;were brok en. A 531 Day Session Ended. The Kentucky Legisiature, after being in cession 513 days, adjourned sine die on Monday. The cost to the Stare was £600,004, and hereafter sessions will be limited by law to 69 days. ELGIN, ILL.—Butter—Market active at 20 cents; 32,0 0 peunds sold. 3 separated the sons of * EE TR unning t could ottles 1ivea ife. et all s of your nounced and inte hi WO 2 0: los] a © |&] rr i
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