Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 20, Decatur, Adams County, 2 August 1895 — Page 6

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CHAPTER Xl.—(Continued.) I A week passed swift yet slow; for Nora watched the days, with a dim^ 8Pn8 « that she was committing herself deepei and deeper. The accounts from Chedworth were worse and better alternately, and considering his relations with the sufferer. Marsden felt bound to go down to his sister s for a day, at least, to show proper interest in Mrs. Ruthven. His short absence was of use, for Nora missed him, and recognized what a charming companion he could be. There was, in abort, not one reasonable reason for refusing to be his wife, and, no doubt, as soon as she had pledged herself to him, other hopes ans) new duties would help her to forget a folly she ought to have surmounted long ago. A letter from him to Mrs. L Estrange give a greatly Improved account of Mra. uthven. She had really taken that turn for the better for which her attendants had so eagerly watched. Marsden himself would come up by the night train, and see them next day. “Now be sure you receive him well, Nora," said her step-mother, smiling, i think you have tried him enough. “If you only knew how hard it is to bnake up my mind on such a tremendous •to be or not to be.*” I “Still, you cannot keep Mr. Marsden waiting. It is as tremendous a question to him too! Will you write to Bea while 1 am out, and give fraulein minute and dear directions as to their journey on the 10th? You know if she can make a mistake she will. I promised to be with Madame Kennett at half-past eleven, and it is eleven now. If I miss my appointment I do not know when I shall get my dress, hud she left the room. During her brief absence some notes ami letters by the second post were brought tipi an invitation or two, a hasty letter from Nora’s German friend respecting an engagement just offered to her, and another letter with a foreign stamp for Mrs. L’Estrange—Nora felt almost sure it was from Mark Winton. > While she looked, Mrs. L’Estrange returned. took up the letter and handed iffto her. . .“Ah!” she exclaimed, opening it hastily uqpr, you can read re' x®avmgtne lev-' ter in Nora’s hand, she went quickly down stairs. Jf > “Dear Mis. L’Estrange,” ran the tines. “I am much obliged for yours, but sorry to find Lady Dorrington has so serious a case on her hands. I was afraid Mrs. Ruthven would feel the effect of such a • shock as she has had; but after two months it is curious she has not thrown it off. I trust she will pull through; she always struck me as a tough little woman, In spite of her fragile airs. “I have been extremely uncertain as to my own plans. lam tempted to start off with my friends back to India next week. On the whole, my long-expected holiday has been a disappointment. However, as- ■ ter mature reflection, I have decided to return to London; whether I stay out tho full time of my leave, or cut it short and start at once, will altogether depend on what I find there. I suppose you understand this? Has Bea joined you yet? Perhaps I may hare the pleasure of seeing her at the pantomime. If I do, what a jolly pantomime it will be to me! “Remember me to Miss L’Estrange, and believe me, yours most sincerely, . I “MARK WINTON.” “Oh! yes; it is clear enough. Helen, like myself has hesitated, and he is returning for her final decision. I wonder if she has taken this method of informing me? It is rather well done. Probably my engagement would facilitate matters, and we might both live happy ever after! Why not? Helen and Mark Winton deserve it How constant and true he has been. That Is his character, though. What perfect trust one could have in him. How good he will be to his little step-daughter. What a funny jumble of relationships. Shall I be his step-daughter, too? No, no; neither In fact nor fiction can I ever be anything to him, nor does it matter. Oh! no, nor could I have any pleasanter, more disin- • terested .partner for life than Clifford Marsden. I ought to be thankful for so fair a lot I shall soon grow to love him. I love him already—a little. I wish he would come; I shall not tease him any more. I will be very good—very good—he deserves it Perhaps, when Helen goes to India, she will leave Beatrice with me, she is too old to go out just now. I do hope she will; I shall then have a little bit of the old home to cling to. Oh! how happy, how happy the last year has been, till my blind eyes were opened. What a foolish, conceited girl I have been. Yes, I will marry Clifford—dear Clifford; he will be very dear to me soon, and then I shall be happy again. How intolerable unhappiness is. If I could but throw it off!” She wiped away the tears which would spring to her eyes; she put away Winton’s letter,and setting out her writing things, resolutely fastened her attention on the directions she had promised to send Bea’s little Kindergartnerin. When about half through her task the door was opened by the clerical-looking master of the house, who solemnly announced “Mr. Marsden.” Nora sprung up with a movement of genuine pleasure. Marsden was looking better and brighter than when he left. He had more color, his fine blue eyes looked darker than usual, his distinguished figure admirably arrayed, his easy grace, his whole style and appearance were fit for an ideal lover, j “By Heaven, Nora,” he exclaimed with delight, as he clasped her outstretched hand in both his own, “you are glad to see me?” J. • 't’’ •_ "Yes, very,” returned Nora, with a little nervous laugh, and leaving her hand in his. He drew her to the light and gazed into her face with longing tenderness, while a slight knitting of the brows showed how intently he tried to read her thoughts. i«_*J2Kj«S£L.

“there are tears in your eyes! What has grieved you—tell me?” “Oh, nothing. What could I have to cry for? Yet the tears did come. I don’t know why.” Clifford felt in, some vague way flattered by her tears. “Then you have thought of me, Nora? Can you decide? Will you try to love me, and be my wife?” “Yes,” she returned quietly and distinctly. “I am sure I shall love you as you deserve. I am growing fond of you already. I missed you so much yesterday and the day before, and looked forward to seeing you, and now I am quite happy you have come —that is love, I suppose?” smiling archly and frankly. “Dearest," returned Marsden, with a quick sigh, kissing her hand before he released it “For God’s sake, spare me such arguments! You only prove how much you have to learn. However, yonr promise to be mine is all I ask now; assure me once more that you will be my wife." Touched by the eager, pained pleading of his eyes, Nora gave him her hand again and said softly, solemnly: “I do, indeed, promise to be your wife and to love you." “Sweetest, kindest!” cried Marsden, his face aglow with joy. “One worji more when? There is no need for useless delays. When, Nora?” “I will not marry before the fifteenth of next February,” she said with decision. “But, Nora, that is more than two months off.” “Very little more than two.” “And why not before?” “On the fifteenth of February I shall be 21, and I want tarsettle part of what I possess on Helen and Bea. Did 1 not tell you once?” “Yes, yes, of course; and quite right, too; but your marriage need not prevent that I shall assist you in making this settlement.” “Yes; but I would prefer making it while I am my own mistress.” “Your own mistress! Why, you will always be your own mistress! But do not let us quarrel over details; all that will arrange itself. Now, let me put this ring ■ on your finger. It Is my signet and I ' fancy it seems more like taking possession when you wear the crest of my house." “That is a curious fancy,” said Nora, as ' she let him slip his onyx seal ring on her ; slender finger. “Your best title Is my free consent.” “It is free?” he asked. “You don’t know how I have longed and schemed for this moment! I never felt so doubtful of success before. I never could make sure of. ' hold back your affection from one who 1 hungers and thirsts for it as I do! You are the one supreme good of life to me, ■ and I have waited patiently.” ’ “Not very long,” said Nora, who was 1 touched and moved by the intense feeling ■ of his voice. “Why, Clifford, we only met 1 at Lady Dorrington’s dance in June! At ' that time I was a mere child!” “Nearly six months ago! It is an age! Do you remember the night of that infernal ball of mine when you accused me of taking too much champagne? I knew ' than that I could not bear to exist without you, and pressed you to my heart in the waltz. I would have done so if death had been the penalty. Then I felt I wanted to carry you away from every one—to be mine—mine alone.” ' “And why—why do you care for me so much?” cried Nora, uneasily; his vehe1 mence displeased her, she scarce knew ; why. “How can I tell?” he returned more 1 calmly. “Some witchery I could neither resist nor explain!” There was a pause, and Nora went to the writing table and began to look over her letter. “I wonder what can have detained Helen,” she said; “she ought to have returned by this time.” “She has, probably,” observed Marsden, smiling. “I told the servant to let her know I was here, and she has perhaps kept away.” “Then let me go and find her; she will be pleased ” “Yes!” interrupted Marsden. “She is a nice, charming creature, and my good friend! but do hot seek her yet I have a thousand things to say. Must you finish that letter?” “Yes, indeed! I shall only be a very few minutes; it is about Bea and her travels;' she comes up with fraulein in a few days.” While she wrote, Marsden leaned over a high-backed chair and gazed nt her, and then they glided into talk of the future. He was full of pleasant projects, of traveling, of spending a few months at Vienna, of a cruise in the Mediterranean, of everything save residing at sweet Evesleigh. “Now I really will look for Helen!” cried Nora, moving toward the door. Marsden interposed between her and it. “Once more,” he exclaimed, “before this heavenly hour is ended, tell me you will love me—that nothing shall separate us.” “I do promise," said Nora, moved by a strange feeling of compassion. “Then give me one unstinted kiss,” he cried passionately;; “I want more than mere words.” “Oli, yes! I will, indeed—to-morrow,” she said, feeling curiously averse to yield, yet not liking to refuse. “Good God! to-morrow! Was ever such answer given to a lover? No; now—now, or I will think you only mock me!" He caught her in his arms, and, holding her head agginst his shoulder, pressed his lips to hers in an intense, passionate kiss, while she felt the wild throbbing of his heart against her own; but, long before he was willing to release her, she struggled so vehemently to get free that he let her go. x “Clifford! Cousin!” she exclaimed, standing at a little distance, with crimson cheeks and heaving bosom, “you frighten me!” “If you loved as I do, Nora! But you will! you will one day come and kiss me freely, voluntarily. “Why, Nora! have I offended you so deeply?” She made no reply, but burst into tears and fled from the room. CHAPTER XII. > The days of Mrs. Ruthven’s dangerous illness were the worst and most distasteful Lady Dorrington had ever known She gas really gnxlous about the Htgww, and

f she wna Infinitely annoyed by MaroAasTs unfeeling Indifference. Except for ths one hurried visit, he was content with • formal daily bulletin; nor did he ae«n much concerned If, by any accident, that was delayed. It was disgracefully heartless as an abstract fact, and It would have a final effect upon Marsden’s chances when it came to the knowledge of Mrs. Ruthven. _ , What was Clifford thinking of? Had he discovered a mine? or had the reports which had reached Lady Dorrington, and been believed by her, as to his extravagance and embarrassment, been exaggerated? He was too trying! What was keeping him in London at such a time? Could there be any truth in the absurd idea that Norn L’Estrange was the attraction—a mere nobody—slenderly dowered—and nothing remarkable in the way of beauty? However, as the time went by, Mrs. Ruthven held her ground. There was more tenacity in the fragile-looking slender little woman than people thought, and at length she was able to sit up for a few hours, to listen to Lady Dorrington when she read the more Interesting paragraphs of the newspapers aloud, and finally to read her own letters. But still there was no intention on the part of Marsden, apparently, of coming to offer his congratulations in person. He wrote kindly and cordially, but in a strictly friendly tone, explaining that he was busy arranging his somewhat entangled affairs, and the preliminaries necessary for letting Evesleigh on a lease of several years. This letter was in itself a severe blow. It was, however, as nothing compared to one received next day from the watchful Captain Shirley: After expressing his delight at hearing of her progress toward recovery, his regret at not being on such terms with, Lord and Lady Dorrington that he might venture to run down and see her, he Informed his esteemed correspondent he could now assure her that Marsden was positively engaged to Miss L’Estrange. He was with her and her stepmother every day, and all day. Finally he (Shirley) had been in a celebrated jeweler's shop in Bond street, where his attention was caught by an unusually fine ring, the design being two hearts united —one of rubies, the other of diamonds. The shopman said it was, he fancied, an engagement ring, and made to order. He had scarcely finished examining it when Marsden came in, and after exchanging a word or two with him, went to the counter and asked if his order had been executed, whereupon this very ring was handed to him. The next day Shirley had called on Mrs. L’Estrange and was admitted, when he saw tho identical ring on Miss L’Estrange’s left third finger. There was but one Inference to be drawn. When Mrs. Ruthven read these lines she felt as if something had snapped het brain. Her heart beat to suffocation, and her imagination presented her with a confused, broken, shadowy mass of pictures i from tho past. Was this the result of all Marsden’s > wfiose easy indifference was absolutely i insolent, whose comparative poverty and , obscurity ought to have been a barrier to her advancement, was preferred before i her wealth and beauty and carefully cul- ; tivated grace. It was too maddening. If t she could destroy both, she would. t And how every one would talk! She bad been so sure of becoming Mrs. Glifford ! Marsden, of Evesleigh Manor—every one • knew that the marriage was expected—- ’ and now to be deceived, cheated, deserted ’ for a mere insignificant, half-developed ■ creature! Mrs. Ruthven felt murderous, i Her head was dizzy; she passed a terrli ble night, and next day the doctor was sent for in hot haste, as his patient showi ed every symptom of a relapse, and before twelve hours were over she was rambling > Incoherently in a high fever. She must have sustained a mental shock of some description, the doctor said, but no one could surmise what had caused it Mrs. Ruthven bad had sufficient foresight, feeling terribly ill, to tear the letter into minute fragments and burn them, and from her speech little could be gathered save that She repeatedly accused Shirley and others of stealing her jewels. This relapse was a great additional trouble to Lady Dorrington, who was at her wit’s ends to discover its origin. “Some of those horrible letters, no doubt,” she confided to her husband. “I wish she never had had them; at such a time the absence of some confidential attendant is very awkward. You see, we know nothing of her former life and connections.” (To be A Suspicions Uncle. “Kitty, what brings that young chucklehead of a Shoonamore to this house so often?” “Why, Uncle Allen, he comes to see me, I suppose.” “What do you know about him?” “I know he’s a very pleasant, agreeable young man, who belongs to a good family, always dresses well, Is in good circumstances and Is well educated and well read.” “What else do you know about him?" “I know that he hasn’t any of the habits many young men have. He doesn’t drink, smoke, -gamble, attend prize fights or go Into bad company.” “Does he keep a race horse?” “Oh, no! I am sure he doesn’t” “Part hls hair in the middle?” “No.” “Let hls little finger nails grow extremely long?” “No.” “Quote Ibsen ?' ' 8 “Never.” “Ohew gum ?” “Oh, no!” “Wear pointed whiskers?” “He does not” “Carry chocolate creams and caramels in hls pocket?” “No.” (Still suspicious)—“He may me all right Kitty, but you’d better watch him, I’ll bet $4 he calls his father ‘papa.’ ’’—Chicago Tribune. But Now It’s the Hat. The good old times were not without their drawbacks. At a performance of one of Handel’s oratorios in London, more than a hundred years ago, the tickets had a postscript which read; “Gentlemen are requested to come without swords and ladles wlthoup hoops.” Hope !• th# half-brother tohappiness

TAIMAGE’S SERMON. TALKS OF THE EYE’S MARVEL , OUS CONSTRUCTION. He Aleo Bhowa How Much More Overwhelming >• the Indescribably Searchins Exo of God—The Kies of the Resurrection— Sight Restored. Wonders of the Eye. Rev. Dr. Talmage, who is still absent on hls summer preaching tour in the West and Southwest, prepared for last Sunday a sermon on "The All Seeing," the text selected being I’salm xciv., 9, “He that formed the eye, shall he not see ? The imperial organ of the human system is the eye. All up and down the Bible God honors it, extrols it, illustrates it, or arranges It. Five hundred and thirty-four times It is mentioned in the Bible. Omnipresence—“the eyes of the Lord are in every place.” Divine care—“ns the apple of the eye.” The clouds—“the eyelids of the morning.” Irreverence_“the eye that mocketh at its father.” Pride—‘*Ob, how lofty are their eyes!” Inattention—“the fool’s eye in tho ends of the earth." Divine inspection—“wheels full of eyes." Suddenness—“in the twinkling of on eye at the last trump." Olivetie sermon—“the light of the body is the eye." This morning’s text—“He that formed the eye, shall ho not see?" The surgeons, the doctors, the anatomists and the physiologists understand much of the glories of the two great lights of the human face, but the vast multitudes go on from cradle to grave without any appreciation of the two great masterpieces of the Lord God Almighty. If God had lacked anything Qf infinite wisdom, he would have failed in creating the human eye. We wander through the earth trying to see wonderful sights, but the most wonderful sight that we ever see is not so wonderful as the instruments through which we see it It has been a strange thing to me for forty years that some scientist, with enough eloquence and magnetism, did not go through the country with illustrated lectures on canvas thirty* feet square to startle and thrill and overwhelm Christendom with the marvels of the human eye. We want the eye taken from nil its technicalities and some one who shall lay aside all talk about the pterygomaxillary fissures, and the sclerotica, and the chiasma of the optic nerve, and in common parlance, which you and I and everybody can understand, present the subject. We have learned men who have been telling us what our origin is and what we were. Ohl if some one should come forth from the dissecting table and 1 from the classroom of the university and take the platform, and asking the help of 1 the Creator demonstrate the wonders of what we are! 1 The Surpassins Human Eye. If I refer to the physiological facts sug- ! gested bj the former part of my text, it is L j- — t,jt,Tiulnr ’ he not see?” I suppose my text referred I to the human eye, since it excels all others 1 in structure and in adaptation. The eyes 1 of fish and reptiles and moles and bats are * very simple things, because they have not ’ much to .do. There are insects with a ' hundred eyes, but the hundred eyes have less faculty than the humau eyes. The * black beetle swimming the summer pond ‘ has-two eyes under water and two eyes * above the water, but the four insectile are not equal to the two human. Man, I placed at the head of all living creatures, 1 must have supreme equipment, while the blind fish in the Mammoth cave of Kentucky have only an undeveloped organ of 1 sight, an apology for the eye, which, if through some crevice of the mountain 1 they should get into the sunlight, might be developed Into positive eyesight In the first chapter of Genesis we find that God, without any consultation, created the light, created the trees, created the fish, created the fowl, but when he was about to make man he called a convention of divinity, as though to imply that all the powers of Godhead were to be enlisted in the achievement. “Let us make man.” Put a whole ton of emphasis on that word “us.” “Let us make man.” And if God called a convention of divinity to create man I think the two great questions in that conference were how to create a soul and how to make an appropriate window for that emperor to look out of. See how God honored the eye before he created it. He cried, until chaos was irradiated with the utterance, “Let there be light!” In other words, before he introduced man into this temple of the world he illuminated it, prepared it for the eyesight. And so, after the last human eye has been destroyed in the final demolition of the world, stars are to fall, and the sun is to cease its shining, and the moon is to turn into blood. In other after the human eyes are no more to be profited by their shining, the chandeliers of heaven are to be turned out. God, to educate and to bless and to help the human eye, set in the mantel of heaven two lamps—a gold lamp and a silver lamp—the one for thp day and the other for the night. To show how God honors the eye, look at the two halls built for the residence of the eyes, seven bones making the wall for each eye, the seven bones curiously wrought together. Kingly palace of ivory is considered rich, but the halls for the residence of the humau eye are richer by so much as human bone is moro sacred than elephantine tusks. See how God honored the eyes when he made a roof for them, so that the sweat of toil should not smart thefh and the rain dashing against the forehead should not drip jhto them, the eyebrows not bending over the .eye. but reaching to the right and to the left, so that the rain and the sweat should be compelled to drop upon the cheek, instead of falling Into this divinely protected human eyesight. See how God honored the eye in the fact presented by anatomists and physiologists that there are 800 contrivances in every eye. For window shutters, the eyelids opening and closing 30,000 times a day. The eyelashes so constructed that they have their selection as to what shall be admitted, saying to the dust, “Stay out,” and saying to the light, “Come in.” For inside curtains the iris, or pupil of the eye, according as the Hght is greater or less, contracting or dilating. The eye of the owl is blind in the daytime, the eyes of some creatures are blind at night, but the human eye, so marvelously constructed, can see both by day and by night Many of the other creatures of God can move the eye only from side to side, but the human eye, so marvelously constructed, has one muscle to lift the eye and another muscle to lower the eye, and another muscle to rd! it to the right, and another muscle to roll it to the left, and another muscle passing through a pulley

gearing of six muscles as perfect as God could make them. There also is the retina, gathering the rays of light and passing the visual impression along the optic nerve, about tho thickness of the lamp wickpassing the visual impression on to the senorium and on into the soul. What a delicate leas, what an exquisite screen, what soft cushions, what wonderful chemistry of the human eye! The eye washed by a alow stream of moisture whether we sleep or wake, rolling imperceptibly over the pebble of the eye and emptying into a bone of the nostril. A contrivance so wonderful that It can see the sun 95,000,000 miles away and tho point of a pin. Telescope and microscope In the same contrivance. The astronomer swings and moves this way and that and adjusts and readjusts the telescope until he gets It to the right focus. The microscopist moves this way and that and adjusts and readjusts the magnifying glass until it is prepared to do its work, but the human eye, without a touch, beholds the star and the smallest insect. The traveler among tho Alps with one glance takes in Mount Blanc and the face of his watch to see whether he has time tocllmh it. The Tear Gland. Oh, .this wonderful camera obscura which you and I carry about with us, so to-day we toko in our friends, so from the top of Mount Washington we can take in New England, so at night we can sweep into our vision the constellations from horizon to horizon. So delicate, so semiinfinite, and yet the light coming 05,000,000 of miles at the rate of 200,000 miles a second is obliged to halt at the gate of the eye, waiting for admission until tho portcullis be lifted. Something hurled 05,000,000 of miles and striking an instrument which has not the agitation of even winking under the power of the stroke. There, also, is the merciful arrangement of the tear gland, by which the eye is washed and from which rolls the tide which brings the relief that comes in tears when some bereavement or great loss strikes us. The tear is not an augmentation of sorrow, but the breaking up of the arctic of frozen grief in the warm gulf stream of consolation. Incapacity to weep is madness or death. Thank God for the tear glands, and that tho crystal gates are so easily opened. Oh, the wonderful hydraulic apparatus of the human eye. Divinely constructed of the immortal soul, under the shining of which the world sails in and drops anchor. What an anthem of praise to God Is the human eye! The tongue is speechless and a clumsy instrument of expression as compared with it Have you not seen it flash with indignation, or kindle with enthusiasm, or ex- , pand with devotion, or melt with sym- , pathy, or stare with fright, or leer with I villainy, or droop with sadness, or pale with envy, or fire with revenge,or twinkle I with mirth, or beam with love? It is tragedy and comedy and pastoral and f lyric in turn. Have you not seen its up- > lifted brow of surprise, or its frown of wrath, or its contraction of pain? If the eye say one thing and the lips say another thing, you believe the eye rather ' than the lips. J. ; nvoa nf a rcb.il|jld I <tnthralled great assemblages with his j eyes, though they were crippled with 9 strabismus. Many a military chieftain s has with a look hurled a regiment to vict tory or to death. Martin Luther turned his great eye on an assassin who came to , take his life, and the villain fled. Under J the glance of the human eye the tiger, I with five times a man’s strength, snarls ( back into the African jungle. But those ( best appreciate the value of the eye who have lost it. The Emperor Adrian by ac- ’ cident put out the eye of his servant, and ’ he said to his servant: “What shall I pay you In, money or in lands? Anything you • ask me. I am so sorry I put your eye . out.” But the servant refused to put any financial estimate on the value of the ‘ eye, and when the emperor urged and , urged again the matter he said: “Oh, emperor, I want nothing but my lost eye.” Alas, for those for whom a thick and Impenetrable vail is drawn across the face ' of the heavens and the face of one’s own , kindred! That was a pathetic scene whem a blind man lighted a torch at night and was found passing along the highway, and some one said, “Why do you carry that torch when you can’t see?" “Ah!” said he, “I can’t see, but I carry this torch that others may see me and pity my helplessness and not run me down." Samson, the giant, with his eyes put out by the Philistines, is more helpless than the smallest dwarf .with vision undamaged. All the sympathies of Christ were stirred when he saw Bartimeus with darkened retina, and the only salve he ever made that we read of was a mixture of dust and saliva and a prayer, with which he cured the eyes of a man blind from his nativity. The value of the eye is shown as much by its catastrophe as by its healthful action. Ask. the man who for 'twenty years has not seen the sun rise, Ask the man who for half a century has not seen the face of a friend. Ask in the hospital the victim of ophthalmia. Ask the man whose eyesight perished in a powder blast. Ask the Bartimeus who never met a Christ or the man born blind who is to die blind. Ask him. This morning, in my imperfect way, I have only hinted at the splendors, tho glories, the wonders, the divine revelations, the apocalypses of the human eye, and I stagger baelrfrom the awful portals of the physiological miracle which must have taxed the ingenuity of a God to cry out in your ears the words of my text, “He that formed the eye, shall he not see?" Shall Herschel not know as much as his telescope? Shall Fraunhofer not know as much as his spectroscope? Shall Swammerdan not know as much as his microscope? Shall Dr. Hooke not know as much as his micrometer? Shall the thing formed know more than its master? “He that formed the eye, shall he not see?" The Eyes of God. The recoil of this question is tremendous. We stand at the center of a vast circumference of observation. No privacy. On us, eyes of cherubim, eyes of seraphim, eyes of archangel, eyes of God. We.may not be able to see the inhabitants of other worlds, but perhaps they may be able to see us. We have not optical instruments strong enough to descry them. Perhaps they have optical instruments strong enough to descry us. The mole cannot see the eagle midsky, but the eagle midsky can see the mole midgrass. We are able to see mountains and caverns of another world, but perhaps the inhabitants of other worlds can see the towers of onr cities, the flash of our seas, the marching of our processions, the white robes of our weddings, the black scarfs of our obsequies. It passes out from the guess iato the positive when, we are told in the Bible that the Inhabitants of other worlds do come as convoy to this. Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth so minister .

to those who shall be heirs of salvation? But human inspection, and angelic Inspection, and stellar Inspection, and lunar inspection, and solar inspection are tame compared with tho thought divine Inspection. “You converted me twenty years ago," said a black man to my father. “How so?” said my father. “Twenty years ago,” said the other, “In tho old schoolhouse prayer meeting at Bound Brook you said in your prayer, ‘Thou, God, seest me,’ and I had no peace under the eye of God until I became a Christian." Hear It. “The eyes of the Lord are In every place.” “His eyelids try the children of men." “Hls eyes were as a flame of fire." "I will guide thee with mine eye." Oh, the eyo of God, so full of pity, so full of power, so full of love, so full of indignation, so full of compassion, so full of mercy! How it peers through tho darkness! How it outshines the day! How it glares upon the offender! How it beams on the penitent soul! Talk about the human eye as being indescribably wonderful —how much more wonderful the great, searching, overwhelming eye of God! All eternity past and all eternity to come on that retina. The Asterisk. The eyes with which we look into each other’s face to-day suggest it. It stands written twice on your face and twice on mine, unless through casualty one or both have been .obliterated. “Ho that formed the eye, shall he not see?” Oh, the eyo of God! It sees our sorrows to assuage them, sees our perplexities to disentangle them, sees our wants to sympathize with them. If we fight him back, the eye of an antagonist. If we ask his grace, the eye of an everlasting friend. You often find in i book or manuscript a star calling your attention to a footnote or explanation. That star the printer calls an asterisk. But all the stars of the night are asterisks calling your attention to God, an all observing God. Our every nervo a dlvino handwriting. Our every muscle a pulley divinely swung. Our every bone sculptured with divine suggestion. Our every eye a reflection of the divine eye. God above us, and God behind us, and God within us. What a stupendous thing to live! What a stupendous thing to die! No such thing as hidden transgression. A dramatic advocate in olden times, at night in a court-room, persuaded of the Innocence of his client charged with murder and of the guilt of the witness who was trying to swear the poor man’s life away—that advocate took up two bright lamps and thrust them close to tho face of the witness and cried, "May it please the court and gentlemen of the jury, behold the murderer!” and the man, practically under that awful glare, confessed that he was the criminal instead of the man arraigned at the bar. Oh, my friends, our most hidden sin is under a brighter light than that. It is under the burning eye of God. He is not a blind giant stumbling through the heavens. He is not a blind monarch feeling for the step of his chariot. Are you, wronged? He sees it. Are you poor? _ He aecß It Have youjjomgsjia^^t^ia-— we so insignificant I can’t realize that God sees me and sees my affairs.” Can you see the point of a pin ? Can you see the eye of a needle? Can you see a mote in the sunbeam? And has God given you that power of minute observation and does he not possess it himself ? “He that formed the eye, shall not he see?" A Legend. _ But you say: “God is in one world, and I am in another world. He seems so far off from me, I don’t really think ho sees what is going on in my life." Can you see the sun 95,000,000 miles away, and do you not think God has as prolonged vision? But you say, “There are phases of my life and there are colorsshades of color—in my annoyances and my vexations that I don’t think God can understand.” Does not God gather up all the colors and all the shades of color in the rainbow? And do you suppose there is any phase of any shade in your life he has not gathered up in his own i heart? Besides that, I want to tell you it will soon all be over, this struggle. That eye of yours, so exquisitely fashioned and strung and hinged and roofed, will before long be closed In the last slumber. Loving hands will smooth down the silken fringes. So he giveth his beloved sleep. A legend of St. Eortobert is that his mother was blind, and he was so sorely pitiful for the misfortune that one day in sympathy he kissed her eyes, and by miracle she saw everything. But it is not a legend when I tell you that all the blind eyes of tho Christian dead under the kiss of the resurrection morn shall gloriously open. Oh, what a day that ■ will be for those who went groping through this world under perpetual obscuration, or were dependent on the hand of a friend, or with an uncertain staff felt their way, and for tho aged of dim sight about whom it may be said that “they which look out of the windows are darkened” when eternal daybreak comes in! What a beautiful epitaph that was for a , tombstone in a European cemetery: “Here reposes in God, Katrina, a saint, 85 years of age and blind. The light was restored to her May 10, 1840.” Why the Woman Screamed. The serqams of a woman with her head and shoulders thrust out of the fourth story window of a lodging house on Kearny street attracted' the attention of passers. The woman was squealing at the top of her voice, and for a moment it was the firm belief of the people below that some brute was trying to throw her out of the window. Closer observation revealed the fact that while hanging her canary bird out in the sun the bottom had dropped out - of the cage and the bird was fluttering around the top of the prison frightened half to death. “Oh, he’ll fdU; he’ll fall! My poor little bird!” screamed the womah. Then with great presence of mind she turned the cage bottom side up so that her pet would not be mangled on the cruel stone pavements beneath. The bird sailed away over the buildings, followed by a most heartrending and earsplitting screech. The poor woman was comforted, however, by the knowledge that the bird did not fall.—San Francisco Post. Alciblades had a cunning trick of remembering people’s children, and often greatly pleased fond fathers by alluding to their sons, whom he would Inquire after by name. It wak said of him that he knew all the boys and young men In Athens, and was, consequently, Immensely popular among