Pike County Democrat, Volume 31, Number 26, Petersburg, Pike County, 2 November 1900 — Page 3

f£kr gUtfdountyDmoa&t rKfMcC HTOOP8, Editor and Proprietor. PETERSBURG. : INDIANA.

THEY TWO. fbey Are left alone in the dear old home. After ao many years When the house was full of frolic and fun. Of childish laughter and tears. They are left alone! they two—once morel Beginning life over again, ^ Just as they did In the days or yore, Before they were nine or ten. . And the table Is s« t for two these days; V The children went one by one, Away from home on their separate ways, ® when the childhood days were done. Ho\w healthily hungry they used to be! Wfhat romping they used to do! And) mother—for weeping—can hardly see To) set the table for two. The^- used to gather around the fire While some one would read aloud, But Vhether at study or work or play, *Twas a loving and merry crowd. And $iow they are two that gather there At evening to read or sew, And ft seems almost too much to bear When they think of the long ago. Ah, well! ah, well! ’tie the way of the \fcrorld! Children stay but a little while, And then into other scenes are whirled. Where other homes beguile. But it fnatters not how- far they roam. Their hearts are for.d and true. And "there's never a home like the dear old home. Where the table Is set for two. —Mrs. Frank A. Breck, in Youth’s Com* panlor.. | A LOVE SET l ONE sunny morning in early July I sat with my sister. ’Lady Emily, by the side of the river. Nature had donned her summer dress the river flowed silently away between banks in green dresses, trimmed with rushes, among which the water diamonds sparkled in the sunshine. Great trees hung loving over the clear water, gazing at th^ir finery mirrored in its depths, as if the}- would never tire of admiring themselves in their beautiful summer clothing. This is Lady Emily's description of the scene, I was busy fishing. There seemed no one in the world but ourselves a", the

mes. “Where is Tommy this morning?” I inquired, rescuing my hook from th* interior of a misguided fish. Emily emerged from a parasol, behind which she had retreated during the operation. She said I reminded her of Nero on such occasions. “I have sent him into the village to do some shopping for me,” she explained. I whistle- softly. “Three miles in the heat! Great is the power of love.” “I am a little worried about him," said Emily. “Oh, he’ll be all right. Ice applied to the head works wonders,” I remarked, cheerfully. “It’s not that; but—but I believe ho tt going to propose.” “I should not think so,” I said, judicially. “His feelings when he returns from the village, very hot and tired, will be rather those of hatred of the tyrant who sent h'ri on such a journey.” “I shall mix him some good oatmeal water.” “And add insult tb injury.” “He says he likes it.” “Then probably he will propose. Matters seem to hav*e gone far.” “But it will upset everything if he. does.” said Emily, plaintively. “Why?” I inquired. “Because—it’s impossible of course -and he’ll go away, and i shall be without anyone to—to—fetch things from the village.” “Shall I awaken the echoes of the past?” said I, presently. I I began tp count the echoes on my fingers. “Charlie Musgrave! Lord Hartley!”—and so on. until I began again at my thumb. Then Emily interfered. “You dare!” she said. For a time a neighboring cuckoo monopolized the conversation. Then Emily said: “There’s Tommy.*’ A white figure was crossing a bridge a little way higher up the river. There was a weariness in his gait that went to my heart, and I seemed to feel in myself the torture of thirst that must possess him. “You are going to meet him?” I inquired. seeing Emily rise. “Yes,” she replied, giving herself that wonderful little shake with which a woman can banish all disorder from her attire. Returning home in the cool of the evening, I observed a letter lying on tho table addressed to Emily in a hand unmistakably masculine. I was Informed that she was out, also that Mrs. Boyton was out. I drew my conelusions, and, knowing the favorite haunts of my sister, I took the letter and went out in quest of them. I found them sitting together under the trees, watching the fish rising at the flies. At least, that is what they said they were doing. "I hope I am not intruding,” said I. "Oh, no!" said Emily. "Certainly not—very pleased—lovely evening—warm!” muttered Tommy, tnartieulately. I fancied he was not quite sincere, and proceeded to offer one of my best eigare, as a proposition. I lit another myedf, and we sat in silence for many minutes. The air was intensely still; the blue smoke wreathed upward, and hung in miniature clouds over our heads, to the great discomfort of the neighboring flies. "Do you want the boat this evening?” inquired Tommy, abruptly. "No." “Will yen oome on the river?" he asked of Emily. §k$ assented, and. as thev rose ta

go, 1 remembered my mission ani produced the letter. “For you, Emily,’* I said, giving it to her. “1 think from the writing it in— from—er—well—you know!” There was an infinite subtility of sag* gestion in my voice; I rejoiced in my

uipiuumcj* But Emily glared at me. “Yea, certainly I know!" she said. “Dolly Harwood promised to write to me thi8 week from Paris.'' Now the postmark said the letter came from London. They departed, but not before Emily had hurled at me, in an intense whisper, the word “Silly tM I lit a fresh cigar, and walked back to the house. Sitting in the garden, some two hours later. Lady Emily joined me. Tommy, she told me, was putting the boat away. “I wonder if you will ever learn to be sensible?” she remarked, sinking into a chair at my side. “I am getting very old,” I replied, shuddering. “Oh, you are bald, I know!” said Emily, with cruel bluntness, “but why did you give me that letter and behave so foolishly before Tommy?” “I did" it for the best. I thought that —that—he would think—” “Poov fellow!” she said, gently. “1 suppose you can’t help it, yet i; seems incredible. Why,” she continued, “you I drove him to desperation and he’s proposed ! ” “Forgive me!” I implored. “I suppose you refused him?” “Why should you suppose so?” Emily asked, with some asperity. “You told me you would.” “Well, I haven’t—not definitely. 1 have promised to give him an answer the end of the week.” And presently she added, softly: “He’s awfully nice, you know.” After all, a girl manages these things better for herself. All went smoothly for three days. I fished; Emily and Tommy—well, I cannot say exactly what they did. I did not see much of them. But on Thursday morning Emily

“SHALL. I AWAKEN THE ECHOES OV THE PAST?" came to me with a lettea In her hantf and consternation in her face. “Johnny,” she said, “Sorrell is coming down.” I whistled, “It’s awful!” said Emily, “The situation is certainly critical* “I asked him to wait a month foe my answer, and it’s up on Saturday.” *“And Tommy?” “He’s up on Saturday, too.” “You have a couple of days in which to make your decision.” On the Saturday afternoon she decided the matter in a manner eminently characteristic of her sex. She told me that the two suitors would do battle for her hand in the tennis court. The arrangement was hot made verbally, she explained, but—well, they knew. And there, in the intense heat of the July sun, these two unfortunates ran about the lawn, dodging and hitting, and making themselves scarlet, dripping, and unpleasant to the -eye. My sister and I watched them ■ from under the cool shade of the trees, j Emily eating huge quantities of iee ' cream to steady her nerves. But Tom- ■ my was hopelessly outplayed. Five— j love, 40—15; the ball flew from Sor- I rell’s racket into the corner where , Tommy was not, and the game was j over. The duelists approached and j were given oatmeal water to drink. In -! the general conversation that followed Tommy seemed depressed, but Sorrell’s . spirits were high. He had a noisy, self- j assertive manner at times which jarred j on me excessively. After dinner, as I sat smoking in the garden, Emily came to me, holding her hands behind her. “Which hand will you have?” she inquired, dropping me a little courtesy. “Rim away!” I replied; “I am disappointed with you.” She held out her left hand, and I saw the flash of diamonds^ “H’m!” I grunted, “Sorrell seems to have made very certain of the matter.” Emily knelt beside me and stroked my nose. “It isn't Sorrell, you silly old thing!” “But—I began in great astonishment. * “It’s Tommy, of course!” “But Sorrell had the six games!” “Yes,” said Emily. And after she had kissed me three times, she added, softly; “but Tommy had the love, you know.” Which, after all, was a most excellent reason.—Chicago Herald. Was Best of All, A story in the Scottish American runs that some Paisley weavers were speaking about their ministers, when one said that it was wonderful how much his minister could bring out of Scripture. He had known him to preach several sermons from one text. Another said his minister surpassed that, for he had preached six sermons from the shortest text in the whole Bible. “But that’s naethin* to my wife,” said the third. “6he’s been preschin’ to ms for 10 years fra# aae text at a\”

IMPERIALISM run riot, A IpeclMeB of the Moaarehteal Pretties ttoas •( MeKialey Boomers.

It has come at last. In this free country, the republic founded by Washington and upheld by Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln, a public print of republican of course, is openly advocating the establishment of a monarchy. Here is an excerpt from the Des Moines (la.) Globe of recent date: “We believe it is better and will be safer if we admit that practically we have passed the period when this country can or will safely remain republican in form.” Here is another quotation from this anti-American sheet: “For a long time thinking people who have large commercial interests have felt unsafe with our present form of government and now is a good time to^do away with our obsolete constitutiohand adopt a form of government thatNvill be logical with expansion ideas and give ample protection to capital.” The Globe then says that “a constitutional monarchy is the most desirable plan we could auopt.” Is not this a near approach to treason? But is it not the natural result of the imperialistic ideas and tendencies of McKinley and his bosses? A few’ days ago the firm of Bentley & Olmstead, shoe manufacturers and dealers of Des Moines, announced that if Bryan was elected they would close their place of business on the morning of !Co vember 7. This bold attempt to coerce their employes into voting for McKinley was eheckmated the same day when J. K. Laycock. a retired boot and shoe man of Des Moines, announced that he had organized a corporation of Iowa capitalists to engage in the wholesale boot and shoe business, the same as is now being conducted by Bentley & Olmstead, in the event of Bryan’s election. Mr. Laycock also guaranteed to hire every employe of the firm of Bentley & Olmstead at on advance of ten per cent, over the wages they now receive.

In commenting on this effort to intimidate and dictate to workingmen, the Globe, the. ultra imperialistic paper published in Speaker Henderson’s 6tate, not only indorses and warmly applauds the bulldozing tactics of Bentley & Olmstead, but advocates the election of McKinley as the best' way to establish a monarchial form of government in this country. The inference, of course, is that under King McKinley I., or Emperor MriTinley, the poor downtrodden capitalist would not have to persuade and intimidate the laboring man into doing his bidding—that is too humiliating—for his majesty, the first monarch of the United States of America, would compel by force of arms the common people to bow in mute subjection to his will, which of course would be that of the moneyed classes. This republican organ, the Globe, says that Bentley & Olmstead’s action is what nearly all large corporations, manufacturers and business firms will do before election day, namely: “Practically force their men to vote for McKinley.'” It then asks: ^And why not? Men who furnish the brains an<i money, the great strain riecessarv to compete in business, should not permit, knowingly, the men who get their support from them to so vote as to greatly injure their business, and further increase the difficulty of doing business. This threat by manufacturers, railroads and money lenders was what elected: Mr. McKinley before and it will do it again this time. “We have no objection to what Mr. Olmstead did or what the Railroads and manufacturers did in 1896. In fact, it is the only way McKinley’s election can be assured.” 0 Frank, isn’t it? Yet the editor of the Globe is simply voicing the wishes, ideas and plans of McKinley, Henna et al. The common people must be subdued, the masses must bow down in adoration before the classes, a small coterie of men. Americans in name only, must rule over and dictate to millions of their countrymen. That is McKinleyism. It is also despotism. -National Democrat. Neglected Opportunities. The republican party has, ever since March 4, 1897, had all the power there is in the general government, in all its branches, to enforce all the laws there are against monopolistic combinations in restraint of trade. It has also had, during that period of three years, all the power that any majority party in both branches of congress can have to pass new laws for that purpose. The anti-trust law of 1890, framed by two of the ablest and most distinguished republican statesmen, John Sherman and George F. Edmunds,has been all thistimeinexistence. Tosay that that law is of no use will not do, because under its provisions several monopolies in restraint of trade have been successfully interfered with.—Baltimore Sun. Bvll Activities ot McKinley. Mr. McKinley has established coloaies under the American flag, he has substituted military force for moral force in our national life, he has spat on the declaration of independence and trampled on the constitution, he has allowed the British flag to be hoisted over American territory in Alaska, he has sought to revive the extinct Clav-ton-Bulwer treaty and compromise our control of the Nicaraguan canal, he has treated the dying South African republic with brutal indifference to please his flatterers in England1, he has supported and protected the trusts in their attempt to destroy competition and take away hope from the youth of the nation.—IT. Y. Journal

EFFECT ON MANKIND. Dr. Telmage Shows How the Spirit of Greed Destroys.

Itroac Dcaueiadoi of Tkoae Wko Wonhif th« Golden Calf at Madera Idolatry—Doy at Ja4(a«at CaaUf. [Copyright, 1300, by Louis Klopecb.] * Washington, Oct. 28. « In this discourse Dr. Talmage shows how the spirit of greed destroys when it takes possession of a man and that money got in wrong ways is a curse. Text: Exodus, xxxii., 20, “And he took the calf which they had made and burnt it in the fird, and ground it to powder, and strewed it upon the water, and made the children of Israel drink of it.” C ) People will have a god of some kind, and they prefer one of their own making. Here come the Israelites, breaking off their golden earrings, the men as well as the women, for in those times there was masculine as well as feminine decoration. Where did they get these beautiful gold earrings, coming up as they did from the desert? Oh, they borrowed them of the Egyptians when j they left Egypt. These earrings are j piled up into a pyramid of glittering j beauty. “Any more earrings to bring?” says Aaron. None. Fire is kindled, the *brrlngs are melted and poured into a mold, not of an eagle or a war charger, but of a silly calf. The gold cools down, the mold is taken away, and the idol is set up on its four legs. An altar is built in front of the shining calf. Then the people throw up their arms and gyrate and shriek and dance vigorously and worship. Mosea has been six weeks on Mount 8inai, and he comes back and hears the howling and sees the dancing of these golden calf fanatics, and he loses his patience, and he takes the two plates of stone on which were written the Ten Commandments and flings them so hard against a rock that they split all to pieces. When a man gets angry, he is apt to break all the Ten Commandments! Moses rushes in, and he takes this calf god and throws it into a hot Are until it is melted all out of shape and then pulverizes it, not

I by the modern appliance of mtromunatic acid, but by the ancient appliance of niter or by the old-fashiQped file. He stirs for the people a most nauseating draft. He takes this pulverized golden calf and throws it in the only brook which is accessible, and the people are compelled to drink of that brook or not drink at all. i But they did not drink all thf glittering stuff thrown on the surface. Some of it flows on down the surface of the brook to the river and then flows on down the river to the sea, and the sea takes it up and bears it to the mouth of all the rivers, and when the tides set back the remains of this golden calf are carried up into the Potomac and the Hudson and the Thames and the Clyde and the Tiber, and men go out, and they skim the glittering surface, and they bring it ashore, and they make another golden calf, and California and Australia break off their golden earrings to augment the pile, and in the fires of financial excitement and struggle all these things are melted together, and while we stand looking and wondering what will come of it, lo we find that the golden calf of Israelitish worship has become the golden calf of European and American worship. Pull aside this curtain, and you see the golden calf of modern idolatry. It is not, like other idols, made out of stocks or stone, but it has an ear so sensitive that it can hear the whispers on 'Wall street, and Third street, and State street, and the footfalls in the Bank of England, and the flutter* of a Frenchman’s heart oh the bourse. It has an eye so keen that it can se*> the rust on the farm of Michigan wheat and the insect in the Maryland peach orchard and the tTampled grain under the hoof of the Russian war charger. It is so mighty that it swings any way it w ill the world’s shipping. It has its foot on all the merchantmen and the steamers* It started the American civil war and, under God, stopped it, and it decided the Turko-Russdan contest. One broker in September, 1869, in New York, shouted: “One hundred and sixty for a million!” and the whole continent shivered. The golden calf of the text has, as far as America is concerned, its right foot in New York, its left foot in Chicago, its right back foot in Charleston, its left back foot in New Orleans, and when it shakes itself it shakes the world. Oh, this is a mighty god—the golden calf of the world’s worship. But every god must have its temple, and this golden calf of the text is no exception. Its temple is vaster than St. Paul’s cathedral in England, and St. Peter’s in Italy, and the Alhambra of the Spaniards, and the Parthenon of the Greeks, and the Taj Mahal of the Hindoos and all the cathedrals put together. Its pillars are grooved and fluted with gold, and its ribbed arches are hovering gold, and its chandeliers are descending gold, and its floors are tessellated gold, and its vaults are crowded heaps of gold, and its spires and domes are soaring gold, and its organ pipes are resounding gold, and its pedals are tramping gold, and its stops pulled out are flashing gold, while standing at the head of the temple, as the presiding deity, are the hoofs ancl shoulders and eyes and ears and nostrils of the calf of gold. Further, every god must have no* only its temple, but its altar of sacrifice, and this golden calf of the text is no exception. Its altar is not made out of stone, as other altars, bat out of counting-room desks and fireproof safes, and it is a broad, a long, a high altar. The victims sacrificed on it are the Svrartouts and the Ketchams and the Fisks and 10,000 other people who are slain before this golden calf. What

does this god core about the gi oans | and struggles of the Yictims befoc « it? With eold, metallic eye it looks 01 . and yet lets them suffer. What an a Itar? What a sacrifice of mind, bodg and soul! The physical health of a preat multitude is flung on to this sacr Asia] altar. They cannot sleep, and thej take

cniorai ana morpnine ana mtoxn ama. Some of them struggle in a nighi ir are of stock* and at one o’clock in the morning suddenly rise up, shoe ting: “A thousand shares of New Yorl Central—106ft—take it!" until the vhole family is affrighted, and the sp -culators fall back on their pillow and sheep until they are awakened again by a corner” in Pacific Mail or a * ltfden “rise” of Bock Island. Their lerve* gone, their digestion gone, their brain, gone, they die. The gowned ecc elastic comes in and reads the funera i service: “Blessed are they who die in the Lord!” Mistake. They did not “die in the Lord.” The golden calf kicked them! The trouble is when men ss ciifice themselves on this altar sugge; ted in the text they not only sacrific themselves, but they sacrifice theii families. If a man by a wrong cours * is determined to go to perdition, 1 s ippose you will have to let him go. 3ut be puts his wife and children in an equipage that is the amazement of he avenues, and the driver lashes the horses into two whirlwinds, and the spokes flash in the sun, and the golde 1 headgear of the harness gleams unt 1 black calamity takes the bits of the horses and 6tops them and shouts to the luxuriant occupants of the eq lipage: “Get out!” They get out. They ge* down. That husband and fath< r flung his family so hard they never got up. There was the mark on them for life —the mark of a split hoof—th: deathdealing hoof of the golden calf. Solomon offered in one sac iflee on one occasion 22,000 oxen anc 120,000 sheep, but that was a tame sacrifice compared with the multitude of men who are sacrificing themselves on this altar of the golden calf and sa irificing their families with them. The soldiers of Gen. Havelock, in India, w: Iked literally ankle deep in the bloot of “the house of massacre” where 2 0 white women and children had beer slain by the Sepoys, but the blood al out this altar of the golden calf flows ip to the knee, flows up to the girdle, flews up to the shoulder, flows up to the li j. Great God of Heaven and earth, ha- e mercy on those who immolate them selves on this altar! The golden :alf has

none. Still the degrading worship goes on, and the devotees kneel and kiss the dust and count their golden l eads and cross themselves with'1 the :»lood of their own sacrifice. The music rolls on under the arches. It is made of clinking silver and clinking gold and the rattling specie of the banks and brokers’ shops and the voioes of all the exchanges. The soprano of th e worship is carried by the timid void s of men who have just begun to speculate, while the deep bass rolls out fram those who for tern years have been steeped ia the seething caldron. C lorus of voices rejoicing over what hey have made; chorus of voices wailing over what they have lost. The temple of which I speak stands open day and night, and there is a glittering god with his four feet on broken hearts, and there is the smoking al ar of sacrifice, new victims every moment on it, and there are the kneeling devotees: and the doxology of tl.e worship rolls on, while death stands with moldy and skeleton arm be iting time for the chorus—“More, mo:-e, more!" Some people are very ruuch surprised at the actions of pet pie in the stock exchange, New York. Indeed, it is a scene sometimes that paralyzes description and is beyond the imagination of anyone who 1 as never looked in. What snapping of finger and thumb and wild gestiei lation and raving like hyenas and stamping like buffaloes and swaying to a id fro and jostling and running one u ion another, and deafening uproar, until the president of the exchange s rikes with his mallet four or five tim »s, crying: “Order, order!”*> and the Astonished spectator goes out into the fresh air feeling that he has escaped from pandemonium. What does it all mean? I will tell you what it means. The devotees of every heathen temple cut themselves to pieces and yell and gyrate. This vociferation and gyration of the stock exchange is all appropriate. This is the worship of the golden calf. But my text suggests that this worship has to be broken up, as the behavior of Moses on this occasion indicated. There are those who say that this golden calf spoken of in the j text was hollow and merely plated with gold, otherwise -Joses could not have carried it. I do not know that, but somehow, perhaps by the assistance of his friends, he takes up this golden calf, which is an infernal insult to God and man, anc throws it into the fire and it is melted, and then it comes out and is cooled off, and by some chemical appliance or by an old-fashioned file it is pulverized, and it is thrown into the brook, and as a punishment the people art compelled to drink the nauseating stuff. So you may depend upon it that God will burn and he will grind to pieces the golden calf of modern idolatry, and he will compel the people in their agony to orink it. If not bei’ore, it will be so on the last day. 1 know not where the fire will begin,, whether at the “Battery” or Lombard street, whether at Shoreditch or West End, >ut it will be a very hot blaze. All the \ government securities of :he United i States and Great Britain viill curl up in the first blaze. All tae money I safes and deposit vaults will mett un-1 fler the first touch. The sea will burn j like tinder, and the shipping will be j abandoned forever. The melting gold in the broker’s window will burst I through the melted window glass into J the street, but the flying population j will not stop to scoop it up. The cry | * ■ ■ I si :? V; .... js.; S .;/ ■ *

of “Urol" from the mountain will bo answered by the cry of “Fire!” in the plain. The conflagration will hem out from the continent toward the sen and then burn In from the Mt toward the land. New York and T in don with one cut of the red aeythe of destruction will go down. Twenty-Urn

thousand miles of conflagration! The earth will wrap itself round and round in shroud of flame and lie down to perish. What then will become of your golden calf? Who then so poor as to worship it? Melted or between the upper and the nether millstone of falling mountains ground to powder. Dagon down. Moloch down. Jugger* naut down, golden calf down! But every day is a day of judgment, and God is all the time grinding to pieces the golden calf. Some years ago in a time of panic we learned as never before that forgeries will not pay, that the watering of stock will not pay, that the spending of $50,0C0 on country seats and a palatial city residence when there are only $30,000 income will not pay, that the appropriation of trust funds'to our own private speculation will not pay. We had s great national tumor in the shape of fictitious prosperity. We called it national enlargement. Instead of calling it enlargement we might better have called it a swelling. It was a tumor, and God cut it out. and the nation was sent back to the principles of our fa- | thers and grandfathers, when. twice | three made six instead of OQ^mSi^hea ! the apples at the bottom oithebarrel were just as good as the apples on the i top of the barred,and a silk handker- ' chief was not half cotton and s man who wore a five-dollar coat paid for was more honored than a man who i wore a $50 coat not paid for. j Te modern golden calf,'like the one * of the text, is very apt to be made out ' of borrowed gold. These Israelites of i the text borrowed the earrings of the ) Egyptians and then melted them inton i god. That is the way the golden calf ia I made nowadays. A great many house- ! keepers not paying for the articles they ; get borrow of the gtocer and the baker | and the butcher and the dry goods j seller. Then the retailer borrows of the wholesale dealer. Then the wholesale dealer borrows of the capitalist, j and we borrow and borrow and borrow I until the community is divided into two j classes, those who borrow and those who are borrowed of, and after awhile the capitalist wants his money, and he rushes upon the wholesale dealer, and the wholesale dealer wants his money and he rushes upon the retailer, and the retailer wants his money, and he rushes on the customer, and we all go down together. There is many a man

in this cay who rides in a carnage and owes the blacksmiths for the tire and the wheelwright for the wheel and the trimmer for the curtain and the driver for unpaid wages and the harness maker for the bridle and the furrier for the robe, while from the tip of the carriage tongue clear back to the tip of the camel's hair shawl fluttering out of the back of the vehicle everything ?S paid for by notes that have been three timet renewed. I tell you that itt this country shall never get things right until we* stop borrowing and pay as we go. It is this temptation to borrow and borrow l and borrow that keeps the people everlastingly praying to the golden calf for help, and just the minute they expect the help the goltpen calf tread»on them. The judgments of God, like : Moses in the text, will rush in and i break up this worship, and I say let the work go on until every man shall learn to sptak truth with his neighbor. and those who make engagements | shall feel,themselves bound to keepthem, and then a man who will notI repent of his business iniquity, but* i goes on wishing to satiate his canui- ' bal appetite by devouring widotvsT houses, shall, bj- the law of the land, be compelled to exchange the brownstone front for the penitentiary. Let i the golden calf perish! I want you to change temples and to give up the worship of this unsatisfying and cruel god for the service of the Lord Jesus Christ. Here is the gold that will never crumble. Here are the securities that will never fail. Here are the banks that will never break. Here is an altar on which there has been one sacrifice that ‘does for all, for “by one sacrifice hath Christ perfected forever them that are sanctified.” Here is a God who will comfort you when you are in trouble and soothe you when you are sick and save you when you die. For He has said: “When thou passeth through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.** When your parents have breathed their last and the old, wrinkled and trembling hands can no more be put upon your head for a blessing, He will be to you a father and mother both, giving you the defense of one and the comfort of the other. For have we not Paul’s blessed hope that as Jesus died and rose again, “even so them also which sleep in Jesus shall God bring with Him.” And when your children go away from you, the sweet darlings, yon will not kiss them and say goodby forever. He only wants to hold them for you a little while. He will give them back to you again, and He will have them all waiting for you at the gates of eternal welcome. Oh, what a God He is! He will allow you to come so close that you can put your arms around His neck, while He in response will put His arms around your heck, and all the windows of Heaven will be hoisted to let the redeemed look out and see the spectacle of a rejoicing Father auid a returned prodigal locked in that gldrious embrace. Quit worshiping the golden calf and bow this day before Hipa in whose presence we must all appear when the world has turned to ashes, When shriveling like a parched scroll, The earning heavens together roll, When louder yet and yet more dread Swells the high trump that wakes the de-vt.