Decatur Democrat, Volume 40, Number 5, Decatur, Adams County, 17 April 1896 — Page 7

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CHAPTER XV. [ Upon inquiry, Frank found that the [news which Lady Sealield had given him ■was correct. He was indeed believed to [be dead. His presence In London was ■iTmked upon as a strange resurrection. [ It was a poor position at best to be in a ■large ahd splendid home with nothing but ■the memory of his dead father for cotn[t>any. It would have been better, he some■times thought, if he had died upon the ■field of battle. [ At last, however, an invitation came ■to him from the Countess of Seafield, and [in a fit of desperation, tired to death of [Mu monotonous existence, he accepted. [ When the countess sent that invitation [he knew perfectly well what she was ■doing. She had arranged this party as a [tyeans of allowing the cousins to meet. [ “They will be sure to do so sooner or ■later," she said to herself, “and it is bet■ter that they should meet at my house ■than that of a stranger. I can take care ■of the duke while dear Constance puts ■things right with her cousin.” [ Meanwhile the Duke d'Azzeglio was by [no means as contented as thi»r strange ■change of circumstances should have ■made him. He was angry when he believ■ed ihia rival to be dead; he was still more ■angry when he found that he was living. ■The duchess threw off her mourning, dried ■nor tears, and seemed willing to accom■pany her husband anywhere and every■tqhere, but the du%e noticed that even ■while she stood in the most crowded of yooma, with an admiring group about her, ■her eyes Were wandering restlessly around ■as if searching for a face she could not ■find. He knew for whom she sought, and ■his soul grew bitter with jealousy and an■ger, and he watched her keenly. ■ At length came the invitation from [Lady Benfield. A few days after it had ■yen accepted the countess called m>on [er friend. She found Constance taking ■tea in her boudoir. [ “So glad you are coming to my little [gathering, dear," she said. “Do you know [ feel very proud that I have induced our [mung hero to emerge from his obscurity, Kind show himself to his friends?” [ “Whom do you mean?” asked Con[tance, already feeling a vague fear gathering about her heart. [ "Whom should I mean?" returned the [countess gayly, “but our hero of heroes, [vour handsome cousin? We must not [llow him to lead the life of a hermit, for [the young Earl of Harrington is a very [mportant member of society; he doesn't [enow how many young ladies are waiting [for the chance of becoming his countess.” [ Jhe little lady spoke acording to her [wn light, wisely. It would be quite Kiecessary, she thought, for Constance to [ccustom herself to the thought of her [ousin’s marriage, and Constance listened [n a wild dream, feeling her heart laeerat[d by every cruel word. When Lady Sea[eld was gone and she found herself alone, [the clasped her hands and, falling upon [ter knees, cried out in pain: I “Oh, kind heaven, lead me not into [etyptation!” [ Probably she had never in her life look[d so lovely as upon the evening of the [eception; when she entered the countess’ [rawing room, looking like a beautiful [tatue, there was a genuine murmur of [dmiration. The duko heard it and smil[ife He was proud of his duchess. But ■ ’onstanee was ( as cold as ice: and her [eart seemed to have ceased its beating. [ Suddenly she started, and every drop of [flood seemed to flow back upon her heart, [s -her eyes. Which had been wandering [eetjessly about the room, became fixed [tpon her cousin’s face. Yes, there stood ['rank, looking like a young Adonis in his [legant evening dress. His face was very [ale, a broad black ribbon still supported | [urfarm. At the first sight of him she [farted, and eagerly gripped her hus[tlild's arm, ami then—but was she dream[ng, or was it real? Was this indeed ['rank, her lover, in whose arms she had [sin so contentedly while his kisses had [ained upon her lips?- whose image filled [er heart, whose whole being was dearer [o her than her very life; was this indeed [e — this pale young man—who bent over [er hand and called her “duchess,” as the [eriest stranger would have done? K M’hat happened after that she did not ■know - her senses must have . become [flooded for a moment, for when her brain [leaved again she was away from all the [onfusion of the crowd, sitting in the coji[ervatory by the open window, her hus[and by her side. The duke’s face was [ery grrin. [ "Are you better?” he asked coldly. She [fluid not answer him; at length, unable [o conquer her emotion, she burst into [ysterieal tears. [ The duke fetched her some wine, she [rank it, and gradually grew more com[>Osed; to return to the crowded room, [owever, was impossible, her face bore [oo evident traces of tears, so the duke [reposed that she should return home. B During the drive not a word was spok [,A, but when they reached the house Con[tance gained her room, locked the door, [nd threw herself upon a couch, sobbing [ike a heart-broken child. She was an [mpulsive woman now, not a statue, her [ery blood was on fire. [ “I will not endure it,” she cried pas[ionately. “They both deceived me—my [randmother first, then he—whom the [vorld calls my husband. I have been [heated, betrayed, trapped into a life of [tisery, and he. my darling, thinks. as all [he world thinks, that I did it of my own [ree will. When he looked at me to-night [ thpugbtl should have died at his feet. [ must see him again—l must tell him the [ruth, then perhaps my miserable life will [a a little lew hard to bear.” I ” ■

She went to her writing table and wrote: “1 must see you at once; T' intended to speak to you to-night, but could not. I cannot ask you here; I dare not, neither can I with safety come to your house. I want to see you alone—quite alone. Will you therefore meet me to-morrow night at the south gate of the park at 10 o'clock? “CONSTANCE.” She then addressed an envelope to the Earl of Harrington, and blotted both with a clean sheet of blotting paper. When she had. finished and sealed her letter, Feveral came with his message from the duke. “Madam,” he said, “I was told to inquire during the evening for your grace’s health." “Thanks; say that I am better.” And she said no more. Feveral had been gazing intently at her table. “Which means,” muttered Feveral to himself as he bowed and took his leave, "that you have written a letter. Good; but another time be careful of your blotting paper; do not leave it so near a mirror, nr your secrets may be read by others.” He passed out of the hall door and concealed himself in the shadow, of the house. In a very short time tne door opened and Constance, cloaked and hooded, came forth. a Feveral followed her. Presently she came to a pillar box, slipped in her letter, then hastened, back to the house. "Bravo, Feveral,” he ruminated, “the game is in your hands; you can crush this proud duke, humiliate him, and yet you pause. Why? because his wife is beautiful, forsooth —and because you know your plan of vengeance will victimize her. Pshaw, Feveral, you are a fool. Was she ’not warned, and yet she married the duke? Well, he shall know now that his wife, the duchess, is no more immaculate than other women; he shall learn what a man feels when his honor is betrayed.” CHAPTER XVI. The next daj’ was a weary one for Constance; it seemed to her that night would never come. At 9 o'clock Constance asked her maid if the duke was at home. The girl answered in the negative. "You can leave me," said Constance, “and do not disturb me again to-night.” She looked at the great bronze clock which stood upon her chimney piece. It was near the hour she had named, yet she - was still in her room, trembling like a criminal waiting to hear her doom. Well, there was no further time to be lost; she must either go or stay, and she resolved to go. She hurriedly fastened on her bonnet and cloak, and descended the stairs. Once outside, she sped along with the swiftness of a hunted hare. At length she reached the trysting place. Suddenly her heart gave a great leap, for her eyes fell on her cousin. A moment after their eyes met. He came forward with but little eagerness, but Constance seized his hand and burst into tears. At last they had met, and the hours seemed minutes. It grew late, the crowds in the streets were getting smaller and smaller, but Constance and Frank still sat side by side on a seat in the park. They were silent, all had been said that could be said, all doubt and suspicion had been uprotted from his heart; and’now for one little 'hour they put the present from their minds and had ovor again those happy hours of their early love. "It is very late,” she said, “O Frank, I must go home.” '“Constance," he cried, “for heaven's Sake, don’t tell me you are going back to that man!” “Y’ou forget, Frank, that man is my husband.” ft “Your husband!" he cried scornfully, "a man who has tricked and deceived you; who cares for you no more than he dots for the hound which follows him—you will go back to him, Constance?" “Why not. Frank?—l have married him.” “An oath extracted by a lie is not binding,” said Frank. "Come, listen to me; you will leave this man's house. Go back to Avondale Castle; then at least we can be cousins, if nothing more.” As he spoke a form stood between him and his cousin. It was the Duke d’Azzeglio. “Pardon me for interrupting you," said the duke with mock politeness, while Frank and his cousin stood dumb, “but as 1 think it is rather late for my duchess to be abroad I will have The pleasure of conducting her homo." The whole affair had taken place so suddenly that the figures of husband and ' wife had faded into the darkness before Frank had fully recovered from the surprise caused by the stnblen appearance of the duke. But early the next morning he received a letter front his cousin. “My Dear Frank." she wrote:—“l nut sending this to implore you to leave England for my sake,’if not for your own. Your presence in London is fraught with much danger to us both. Try to forget me, and if you cannot, remember always that my husband stands between us. He was warned of my meeting with you last night, and followed me. “CONSTANCE.” Meanwhile, what had taken place between the duke and uis wife? No one knew. At midnight Feveral had seen them' enter the duchess’ boudoir. About half an hour later the duk*? came forth looking cruelly angry, but uo o»e saw the duchess that night. The nettday, however, Feveral met ‘her. He bowed low; she did not respond, but drew heml£ up and passed him by, «• if there ■

w«» contamination in his very touch. I A few days later Alice Greybrook, ln| answer to the piteous appeal of her friend, came to pay a long visit to Constance. For several weeks after this the duke and duchess were seldom syen together. The duke was a busy man, and had little time to devote to society, but on every festive occasion of any note he sent his duchess to represent him. She went, accompanied always by Alice Greybrook, and often the two were escorted by Feveral. Constance did not refuse tile secretaryVfiscort since it had been commanded by the duke, but she never addressed him. Suddenly, urgent business called the duko to Madrid. He went alone, leaving Constancy in London. CHAPTER XVII. At the end of a fortnight the duko was again in London. The first thing he did, after coldly greeting his wife, was to gc to his room and send for Feveral. "The journals are full this morning, 1 see, of the stute ball which was given hurt night. You were present, I believe?” he asked. “Yes. It was truly magnificent.” "Indeed!' replied the duke, grimly, “but I heard of some scandalous scene." “Oh, a mere trifle. Some roughs picked a quarrel with the soldiers; then some drew knives. "Nothing more?” said the duke, significantly. “Let me see. Ah, yes, your studious nephew, Count Palmatos, was one of the first to arrive.’ “Never mind my nepnew,” interrupted the duke, shortly; “speak of my duchess." “I saw her for a moment, afterward she disappeared.” — “And you did not see her again?” said the duke eagerly, “you did not remain near her? You do not know to what individuals she was presented?” “Frankly," returned Feveral, in tho same indifferent tone, “I do not.” “Mr. Feveral,” said the duke sternly, “let us understand each other. You are my secretary, my servant, employed by me at your own particular request to serve me in any way I wish; at the very moment when I most depend upon you, when I look for services more, domestic in their nature and more affecting my happiness, your ardor cools, your devotion vanishes. Hereafter you must keep a doser watdi upon the duchess, or leave my employ. <pedde!” “My lord,” answered Feveral, “I must have an hour to reflect.” As the door closed upon him, the duks smiled. “He is mine,” he said;'“when such a rascal demands time for reflection he is at good as bought..” He paused; the room door opened and admitted Count Palmatos, the duke’s nephew. He was a youth of sixteen, with black hair, a brown skin. and. dreamy eyes. “Well,” said the duke, with a smile, “how are you enjoying your visit, my dear boy? Did you go to the state ball last night?” “I did, my lord.” “You saw the duchess, of course?” “Saw her? O yes, of course, just for a moment. I assisted her to her carriage There were present two others, Mr. Feveral, your secretary, -and ’’ "Yes,” said the duke, quickly, “the other?” “The other is a gentleman whose name I do not know —a charming person, wh« saved my life.” "Indeed!” “Yes. There was a scuffle outside ths palace. Some ruffian drew a knife, which was at my throat when my preserver interposed and received the thrust in his breast.” “He was wounded, you say?” “A flesh wound, which will heal, with care, in a few days.” “May I ask —did the gentleman accosi the duchess?” “Not in my presence.” The youth looked at the duke in a puzzled sort of way. Then he left the room, wondering what all this mystery could mean. Meanwhile Feveral was sitting in hit room thinking deeply over the interview which he had had with the duke, anc wondering What course it would be best for him to pursue. “Feveral,” he said to himself, “what is coming to you? A few weeks ago you betrayed the duchess simply for the pleasure of humiliating the duke, and now be cause you are asked to repeat the performance you hesitate. Why should you hesitate? Your-task in life is set; why should you refusa to acoomplish it? Il I were once to leave this roof I should never reap my revenge. I will not leavs it —I will do as the duke wishes me. 1 will become his spy.” (To be continued.) JAPAN’S GREAT CATHEDRAL. One of the Finest Structures to Be Found in the Civilived World. When foreign architects visit Japan and see the cathedral of Buddhism for the first time they are generally astonished at the magnificent structure. It is executed in pure Oriental style, and is richly ornamented with carvings. H. Ito, a famous builder of Nagoya City, designed it. The structure was commenced in 1878, ami was completed this year. The cost has been estimated at |»I7.(XM),O<)O. It would have greatly exceeded this amount had not numbers of Buddhists worked without any recompense. As the structure neared completion the committee having the work tn charge was much perplexed as to fire Insurance. They found that no company would assume the risk on such a valuable wooden structure, the "danger of destruction by lire being very great, and thus the premiums would amount to an enormous sum of money. At last the committee decided on a design devised by Dr. Tanabe. Numbers of powerful fountains were constructed, both exterior mid interior, which can be made to play on all parts of the structure at the same time. Usually only jone great ornamental fountain is playing, rising to the great height of 157 feet. This is probably the largest artificial fountain in existence. emitting 82.9(10 gallons per hour. In case of tire all the water pressure is directed through fountains. Thus every part of the;stiwture. lioth inside and out, could soon be drenched, and any conflagration soon extinguished,— St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Germany has 30,000 breweries, Great Britain 18,000. The United States showt only 5,000 of these factories of delight)

TALMAGE’S SERMON. SHOWS JOSEPH’S LIFE TO BE OF PRACTICAL LESSONS. ft Illustrates the Fact that You Cannot Keep a Good Man Down and that the World la Compelled to Honor Christian Character. The Life of Joseph. This sermon of Rev. Dr. Talmage is full of stirring and practical lessens for all. Washington has many men who, like the hero of the texts, started from almoat nothing and rose to high place. The texts chosen were: Genesis xxxvil., 28, "They drew and lifted up Joseph out of the pit and sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for 20 pieces of silver.” Genesis xlv., 26, "He is governor over all the land of Egypt.” You cannot keep a good man down. God has decreed for him a certain point of elevation. He will bring him to that though it cost, him a thousand worlds. You sometimes find men fearful they will not be properly appreciated. Every man comes to be valued at just what he is worth. You cannot write him up, and you cannot write him down. These facts are powerfully Illustrated in my subject. It would be an insult to suppose that you were not all familiar with the life of Joseph—how his jealous brothers threw him into a pit, but seeing a caravan of Arabian meschants trudging along on their camels, with spices and gums that loaded the air with aroma, sold their brother to these merchants, who carried him down into Egypt; Joseph there sold to I’otiphar, a man of influence and office; how by Joseph’s integrity he raised himself to high position in the realm until, under the false charge of a vile wretch, he was hurled into the penitentiary; how in prison he commanded respect and confidence; how by the interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream he was freed and became the chief man in the realm, the Bismarck of his century; kow in the time of famine Joseph had the control of a magnificent storehouse which he had filled during seven years of plenty; how when his brothers, who had thrown him into the pit and sold him into captivity, applied for corn lie sent them home with the beast of burden borne down under the heft of the corn sacks; how the sin against their brother which had so long been hidden came out at and was returned by that brother’s forgiveness and kindness, the only revenge he took. You see, in the first place, that the world is compelled to honor Christian character. Potiphar was only a man of the world, yet Joseph rose in his estimation until all the affairs of that great house were committed to his charge. From his servant no honor or confidence was withheld. When Joseph was in prison, he soon won tho heart of the keeper, and, though placed there for being a scoundrel, he soon convinced the jailer that he was an innocent and trustworthy man, and, released from close confinement, he became general superintendent of prison affairs. Wherever Joseph was placed, whether a servant in the house of I’otiphar or a prisoner in the penitentiary, he became the first man everywhere and is an illustration of the truth I lay -down—-that the world is compelled to honor Christian- character. There are those who affect to despise a religious life. They, speak of it as a system of phlebotomy by which the man is bled of all his courage and nobility. They say he has bemoaned himself. They pretend to have no more confidence in him since his conversion than before his conversion. But all this is hypocrisy. These is a great deal of hypocrisy in the church, and there is a great deal of hypocrisy outside the church. It is impossible for any man not to admire and confide in a man who shows that he has really become a child of God and is what he professes to be. You cannot despise a son of the Lord God Almighty. Os course we have no admiration for the sham of religion. Ret ini oils Pretense. I was at a place a few hours after the ruffians had gone into the rail train and demanded that the passengers throw up their arms, and then these ruffians took the pocketbooks, and satan comes and suggests to a man that he throw up his arms in hypocritical prayer and pretension, and then steals his soul. For the mere pretension of religion abhorrence. Redwald, the king, after baptism, had an altar of Christian sacrifice and an altar for sacrifice to devils, and there are many men now, attempting the same thing—half a heart for God and half a heart for the world—and it is a dead failure, and it is a caricature of religion, and the only successful assault ever made on Christianity is the inconsistency of its professors. You may have a contempt for pretension to religion, but when you behold the excellency of Jesus Christ come out in the life of one of his disciples all that there is good and noble in your soul rises up into admiration, and you cannot help it. Though diat man be far beneath you in estate as the Egyptian slave of whom we are diseoujfe'ing was beneath his rulers, by an irrevocable law of your nature I’otiphar and I‘haraoh will always esteem Joseph. When Eudoxia, the empress, threatened Chrysostom with death, he made the reply, “Tell the empress 1 fear nothing but sin.” Such a scene as that compels the admiration of the world. There was something in Agrippa and Felix which demanded their respect for Paul, the rebel against government. I doubt not they would willingly have yielded their office and dignity for a thousandth part of that true heroism which beamed in the eye aud beat in the heart of that unconquerable apostle. Paul did not cower before Felix. Felix cowered before Paul. The’infidel and worldling are compelled to honor in their hearts, although they may not eulogize with their lips, a Christian firm in persecution, cheerful in poverty, trustful itl,,losses, triumphant in death. 1 find Christian men in all professions and occupations, aud I find them reepectod —and honored and. successful. John Frederick Oberlin alleviating ignorance and distressr Howard passing from dungeon to lazaretto with healing for the body and soul; Eliz.abtHli Fry going to the profligacy of to shake its obduracy as the angel came to rite prison at Philippi-, driving open the doors and snapping loose the chain, as well as the lives of thousands of followers of Jesus who have devoted themselves to the tempo rat and spiritual welfare of the race are monuments of the Christian religion that shall ndt crumble while the world lasts. Persecution Reveals Heroism. We learn also from this story of Joseph that the result of persecution is, elevation. Had it not been for hja being sold into

Egyptian bondage by hia maliciona brothers and his false imprisonment Joseph never wpultj have become a governor. Everybody accqpta the promise, “Blessed are they that are persecuted for righteous- • ness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," but they do not realize the fact that this principle applies to worldly as •well as spiritual success. It is true in all departments. Men rise to high official positions through misrepresentation. Public abuse is all that some of our public men have had to rely upon for their elevation. It has brought to them what talent and executive force could not have achieved. Many of those who are making great effort for place and power will never succeed, just because they are not of enough importance to be abused. It is the nature of men-—that is, of all generous and reasonable men —to gather about those who are persecuted and defend them, and they are apt to forget the fault of those who are the subjects of attack while attempting to drive back the slanderers. Persecution is elevation. Helen Stirk, the Scotch martyr, standing with her husband at the place of execution, said: “Husband, let us rejoice to-day. We have lived together many happy years. This is the happiest time of all our life. You see we are to be happy together forever. Be brave now —be brave. I will not say ‘Good night!’ to you, for we shall soon be in the kingdom of our Father together.” Persecution shows the heroes and heroines. I go into another department, and I find that those great denominations of Christians which have been most abused have spread the most rapidly. No good man was ever more violently maltreated than John Wesley—belied and caricatured and slandered, until one day he stood in a pulpit in London, and a man arose in the audience and said, “You were drunk last night.” and John Wesley said: ‘Thank God, the whole catalogue is now complete! I have been charged with everything but that.” His followers were hooted at aud maligned and called by every detestable name that infernal ingenuity could invent, but the hotter the persecution the more rapidly they spread, until you know what a great host they have become and what a tremendous force for God and the truth they are wielding all the world over. It was persecution that gave Scotland to Presbyterianism. It was persecution that gave our land first to civil liberty and afterward to religious ’ freedom. Yea, I might go farther back and say it was persecution that gave the world the great salvation of the gospel. The ribald mockery, the Hungering and thirsting, the unjust charge, rhe ignominious death, wheri all the force of hell’s fury was hurled against the cross, was the introduction of that religion which is yet to be the earth’s deliverance and our eternal salvation. The state sometimes said to the church, “Come, take my hand, and I will help you." What was the result? The church went back, and it lost its estate of holiness, and it became ineffective. At other times the state said to the church. “I will crush you.” What has been the result? After the storms have spent their fury the church, so far from having lost any of its force, has Increased and is worth infinitely more after the assault than before. Read all hia-, tory, and you will find that true. The church is far more indebted to the opposi-'., tion of civil government than to its approval. The fires of the stake have only been the torches which Christ held in his hand, by the light of which the church has marched to her present glorious position. In the sound of racks and implements of torture I hear the rumbling of the gospel chariot. The scaffolds of martyrdom have been the stairs by which the church mounted. Sin Exposes Itself. Learn also from our subject that sin will come to exposure. Long, long ago had those brothers sold Joseph into Egypt. They had made the old father relieve that his favorite child was dead. They .had suppressed the crime, and it was a profound secret well kept by the brothers. But suddenly the secret is out. The old father hears that his son is in Egypt, having been sold there by the malice of his own brothers. How their cheeks must have burned aud their hearts sunk at the flaming out of this long suppressed crime. The smallest iniquity has a thousand tongues, and they will blab out exposure. Saul was sent to destroy the Canaanites, their sheep and their oxen, but when he got down there among the pastures he saw some fine sheep and oxen too fat to kill, so he thought he would steal them. Nobody would know it. He drove these stolen sheep and oxen toward home, but stopped to report to the prophet how he had executed his mission, when in the distance the sheep began to bleat aud the oxen to bellow. The secret was out. and’ Samuel said to the blushing aud confused Saul. “What meaneth the bleating of the sheep that I hear and the bellowing of the cattle?” Ah, my hearer, you cannot keep an iniquity still. At just the wrong time the sheep will bleat and the oxen will bellow. Aehau cannot steal the Babylqpish garment without being stoned to deathmor Arnold betray his country without having his neck stretched. Look over the police arrests. These thieves, these burglars, these counterfeiters, these highwaymen, these assassins, they all thought they could bury their iniquity so deep down it would never come to resurrection. but there was some shoe that answered to rhe print in the soil, some false keys found in their possession, some bloody knife that whispered of the death, and! the pulilic indignation and the anathema of outraged law hurled them into the dungeon or hoisted them on the gallows. Francis 1., king of France, stood counseling with his officers how he could take his army into Italy, when Aineril. the fool of the court, leaped out from a corner of the room and said, “Y’ou had better be consulting 'how you will get your army back,” and it was found that Francis 1., and .not Ameril, was the fool, Instead of consulting as to the best way of gettinv into sin, you bad better consult as to whether you will be able to get out of it. If the world does not expose you, you will tell it yourself. There is an awful power in an aroused conscience. —— One Mighty Plan. Learn also from this subject that there is an inseparable connection all events, however remdte. The universe is only one thought of God. Those things which seemed fragmentary and isolated are only different parts of that great thought. How far apart seemed these two events —Joseph sold to the Arabian merchants and his rulership of Egypt, yet you see in what a mysterious way God connected the two into one plan. So the events are linked together. Y’ou who are aged men look back ahd group together a thousand things in "your life that once seemed isolated. A)ue undivided chain of events reaches from the garden of Eden to the cross of Calvary and thus up to the

kingdom of heaven. There is a relation between the smallest insect that hums In the summer air and the archangel on his throne. God can trace a direct ancestral ; line from the blue jay that this spring will build its nest In the tree behind the house to some one of the flock of birds which, when Noah hoisted the ark’s window, with a whir and dash of bright wings went out to sing over Mount Ararat. The tulips that bloom In the garden this spring were nursed by the snowflakes. The farthest star on one side of the universe could not look toward the farthest star on the other side of the universe and say, “You are np relation to me,” for from that bright orb a voice of light would ring across the heavens, responding, “Yes, yes, we are sisters." Nothing ‘in God's universe swings at loose ends. Accidents are only God's way of turning a leaf In the book of his eternal decrees. From our cradle to our grave there is a path all marked out. Each event in our life is connected with every other event in our life, Our losses may be tire most direct road to our gain, fjur defeat and our victor.’ are twin brothers. The whole direction of your life was changed by something which at the time seemed to you trifling, while some occurrence which seemed tremendous affected you but little. God’s plans are magnificent beyond all comprehension. He molds us and turns and directs us, and we know it not. Thousands of years are to him the flight of a shuttle. The most terrifid occurrence does not make God tremble. The most triumphant achievement does not lift him into rapture. That one great thought of God goes out through the centuries, and nations rise and fall, and erai pass, and the world changes, but God still keeps the undivided mastery, linking event to event and century to century. To God they are all one event, one history, one plan, one development, one system. Great and marvelous are thy works, Lord God Almighty! I was years ago in New Orleans at the exposition rooms, when a telegram was sent to the President of the United States, at YVashington, and w« waited some fifteen or twenty mimitea, and then the President's answer cams back, and then the presiding officer waved his handkerchief, and the signal was sent to Washington that we were ready t# have the machinery of the exposition started, and the President put his finger I on the electric button, and instantly the great Corliss wheel began to move—rumbling, rumbling, rolling, rolling. It wa» overwhelming, and 15,000 people clapped and shouted. Just one finger at Washington started that vast machinery, hundreds and hundreds of miles away, aud I thought then, as I think now, that men sometimes touch influences that respond in the far distance, forty years from now, fifty years from now, 1,000 years from now—l,ooo,ooo years from now—on« touch sounding through the ages. What of the Future? We also learn from this story the propriety of laying up for the future. During the seven years of plenty Joseph prepared for the famine, and when it came he had a crowded storehouse. The life of most men in a worldly respect is divided •into years of plenty and famine. It is seldom that any man passes through life without at least seven years of plenty. During those seven years your business bears a rich harvest. Y’ou scarcely know where all the money comes from, It comes so fast. Every bargain you make seems to turn into gold. Y’ou contract few bad debts. You are astonished with large dividends. Y’ou invest more and more capital. You wonder how men can be content with a small business, gathering in only a few hundred dollars, while you reap your thousands. Those are seven years of plenty. Now Joseph has time to prepare for the threatened famine, for to almoet every' man there do come seven years of famine. You will be sick, you will be unfortunate, you will be defraud ed. there will be hard times, you will bo disappointed, and if you have no storehouse upon which to fall back you may be famine struck. We have no admiration for this denying oneself all personal comfort and luxury for the mere pleasure of hoarding np, this grasping, grasping for the mere'pleasure of seeing how large a pile you can get, this always being poor because as soon as a dollar comes in it is sent out to see if it can find another dollar., so that it caii carry it home on its ? back, We have a contempt for all those things, but there is an intelligent and noble minded forecast which we love to see In men who have families and kindred depending upon them for the blessings of education and home. God sends us to the insects for a lesson, which, whjle they do not stint themselves in the present, do not forget their duty to forecast the future. “Go to the ant, thou sluggard. Consider her ways and be wise, which, having no guide, overseer or ruler, provideth her 8 meat in the summer and gathereth her food in the harvest.” Now. there are two ways of laying up money. One of these is to put it in stock and deposit it in bank and invest it on bond and mortgage. The other way to lay up money is giving it away. He is tho safest who makes both of these investments. There are in this house men ..who •if they lose every dollar they world would be millionaires for eternity. They made, the spiritual investment, but the man devotes none of his gains to the cause of Christ and looks only for his own comfort and luxury is not safe, I care not how- the money is invested. H« acts as the rose if it should say, "I will hold my breath, and Sone shall have a snatch of fragrance from me until next week: then I will set all the garden afloat with my aroma." Os course the rose, re- , fusing to breathe, died. But above all layt up treasures in heaven. They never depreciate in value. They never are at a discount. They are always available You may feel safe now with your SI,OOO p or $2,000 or SIO,OOO or $20,000 income, bifewhat will such an income be worth after you Are dead? Others will get it I’erhaps some of them will quarrel about it before you are buried. They will ba so impatient to get hold of the will they will think you should be buried one day sooner than you are buried. Tlrey'wflr Im right giml wficn you are dead. They are only waiting for you to die. What then will all your earthly accumulations be’wofth? If gathered it all in youi bosom aud walked up with it to heaven’s gate, it wpuld not purchase your adtnis "oFtf allowed to enter it could uoi ■buy you a crown or a robe, and the poor est saint in heaven would look down ai you and. say, “Where did that paupet come from?" Mayjse-ailLhave treasures _ - iu heaven.' Ameii! There is perhaps no time at which we are disposed to think so highly of a friend as when we find him standing higher than we expected 'n the esteem of others, P -