Newspaper Page Text
August 7, 1912] THE
and made a great success as au actor at Drury
bane. Some of the best English poets of the
day?Ix>rd Byron, Coleridge and Charles Lamb?
had befriended him, and tried to make him settle
in London.
Hut the young American had a restless and
wandering spirit. lie wanted to roam about the
world, from city to city, continually looking
at fresh faces and strange scenes, and regarding
life as a passing show.
Hut now, as he sat homeless and friendless
and starving, amid the palaces and pleasures
nf the iravest and most, hrillant eit.v cm the enrth
his thoughts sadly turned to the little humble
cottage where he had lived in quiet happiness.
It began to rain, and a cold wind swept
through the now deserted roads. The homeless
wanderer rose up wearily to try and find
a night's lodging. He walked aimlessly and
sadly through the streets. In the lower windows
of the houses the blinds were drawn, so
that no one could look in. But, in passing by
;i humble dwelling the nil ten nt tiavu en a Klin/1
the shadow of a father and mother and their
children. The light of a lamp threw the outlines
of their figures clear on the veiled window
"Ah!" said the poor actor, with tears in
his eyes. "There's no place like home."
He suddenly remembered that at the end
of the town there was an English theatre manager
who had come to Paris to seek new plays.
"I will look him up and see if I can borrow
a little monev from him" sHiH thp uamlorur
And he at once turned and, retracing his
-teps passed the place of the French king, and
began to walk quickly towards the street in
which the manager lived.
Suddenly his pace slackened. He looked
hack at the Tuileries and the Louve, the two
great palaces of the kings of France, which
ose up great in splendor against the dark
shy, with its lights shining in their long ranges
of windows. Then he thought of the
humble scene of happiness that he had seen in
shadows on the window blind. Breathless he
stood, like a man in a strange trance. His
lips moved and yet made no sound; and with
one hand he beat time, as though he were listening
to a melody.
A shop-girl, hurrying home, thought that
something was the matter with him.
"What is the wrong, monsieur?" she said,
"('an I help you?"
She had seen that his face was streaming
with tears. The miserable wanderer turned to
her with a sad yet bright smile.
"It is nothing, mademoiselle," he replied.
"A poor poet with an inspiration."
With a ripple of laughter the girl passed on,
and the young foreigner continued his walk
very slowly his face now lightened with strange
happiness. All the way he murmured to hims<'lf,
and beat time with his hand Th* ?nn?
?_ that
he was making was finished by the time he
reached the street where the manager lived,
and he then strode along, chanting out loudly
to himself in English the wonderful song born
of hia suffering and his loneliness that night in
the great, beautiful foreign city.
" 'Mid pleasures and palaces, though we
may roam,
lie it ever so humble, thbre's no place like
home;
\ charm from the sky seems to carry us
there,
Which, seek through the world, is not met
with elsewhere.
Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home!
'here's no place like home, there's no place
..." like home.
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SO
"An exile from home, splendor dazzles in
vain;
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage
again.
'm?> u;?i. : ?:>? A' - -
i nu iiu ua Hiiiyni^ gHiiy mat came at my
call?
Give me them with the peace of mind dearer
than all.
"Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, there's no place
like home!"
<ltr tJ 1 TX I!
?mir? inline, oweei xaoine was written Dy
John Howard Payne. He soon thought of the
idea of a play, "Clari, the Maid of Milan," in
which he introduced the now world-famous
song; and the piece, was produced at Covent
Garden Theatre in 1823, with music by Sir Henry
Bbihop. It was a great success, and Payne
2 1 rtfA i ' 1 " "
received zzju pounds ior it, and Three hundred
thousand copies of "Home, Sweet Home," were
sold the first year the song was written. Payne
still continued to he a wanderer over the earth,
and he died at Tunis, in the nort.i of Africa in
1852.?Children's Magazine.
"I SANCTIFY MYSELF."
EDWARD A. WICHEB.
If we desire to help our fellow men, we must
be pure. An outward conformity to the re
quirements of the eommandment vvill not be
a sufficient basis upon which to approach them
or to endeavor to influence them toward keeping
the commandment. There is no strength
of persuasion, no abiding influence of personality,
no power unto salvation, without purity
_ i? 1
oi aeart.
Even our Saviour, for the sake of His followers,
sanctified Himself, set Himself apart
from every worldly calling, purged out of His
mind every worldly ambition. As the Father
sent Him into the world, so has He sent us into
the world.
This is especially true of us who have been
called in Christ's great love to preach His gospel.
Our message is never independent of our
i: i i ? '
ii\*s, inn is always meditated through the experience
of our owu souls. Indeed, the only
method whereby spiritual truth can be conveyed
is through the medium of personality.
Every word of the preacher will receive its
commentary from the auditor's knowledge of
the man who speaks. As he unfolds his theme,
the man in the pew will inwardly aasent because
he knows that the preacher means what
i,? j ?1-:? ?-- -
.... .-!???jju is miming his exportation tne
standard of his own life. The preacher may
have rather a homely style, hut the man in
the pew will find his sermon to contain rare
flashes of insight into the truth of God and
beautiful illustrations drawn, from a humble
experience of following in the steps of the Saviour.
After all. the only thing that auy minister
ever gives to a community is himself. His
acquisitions of learning count for nothing except
as they have become heart of his heart
and soul of his soul.
Therefore for the sake of his people he will
purify himself.
"My people." IIow these words vibrate in
the heart of the pastor. "My people; mine to
watch over with solicitous yearning that they
may not sin; mine to instruct in the truth of
the Saviour; mine to guide in the work of extending
His kingdom among men; mine to lead
in the battle of the Lord against all the forces
of the evil one." And when sorrow falls upon
some of the flock the pastor's heart receives a
new enlargement and he says: "My children."
Tie may he a young pastor and some of his
children may he aged: hut they are ijeverthcless
hi*: children. He is grieved for tHeir offeney.
U T H (915) 5
he is blessed with their blessing, he is patient
with thein as a man is with his son
While in a quiet hour he searches for the issues
of life he says within himself: "If I should
set my affections upon real estate or mining
stock, or any other of the things below, my
words would lose their force of conviction when
I would seek to lead my children to set their
affections upon things above." For their sakes
~ ?in * " - ?
uu win sancTiry nimself. tie will do his work
utterly without regard to personal rewards in
money.
Certainly he will be poor?not poorer than
his Master. Nevertheless blessed is he; for
he is the heir of the kingdom of God, rich in
the affection of his people, rich in the fellowship
of his Master, and rich in the inheritance
of glory.
And his people will be rich in him. For the
most precious possession of a church is a min
ister who has the passion of purity in his soul
and the light of conviction upon his path, because,
for his people's sake, he has sanctified
himself.
Nor is the message of the Sabbath school
teacher independent of the teacher herself.
There are no improved methods of pedagogy
that can supply the lack of the holy passion
for the salvation of the little children. Next
to that of the parents, the calling of the Sabbath
school teacher is the holiest in the world.
And the religious instruction of father and
mother is never independent of the life and
character of father and mother. There may
l>e a sameness in father's nravcrs e?ii~
r-_rf ?~ .... I.H; inmiiy
alter, and mother's method of telling Bible
stories to the children may not be according
to the newest pedagogical theory; but if father
and mother live as they pray, and love as
they teach, they will be saints in the eyes of
their children, and will bequeath to them the
priceless inheritance of the memory of that
holy home.?The Presbyterian?Toronto.
HIS OLD FATHER SATISFIED.
Twenty years ago a discouraged young doctor
in one of our large cities was visited once by
his old father, who came up from a rural district
to look after his boy.
"Well, son," he said, "bow are you getting
along?"
"I'm not getting along at all," was the dls
Heartened answer. "I'm not doing a thing."
The old man's countenance fell, hut he spoke
of courage and patience and perseverance. Later
in fhe day he went with his son to the "free
dispensary." where the young doctor had an
unsalaried position and where he spent an hour
or more every day.
The father sat by, a silent but intensely interested
spectator, while twenty-five poor unfortunates
received help. The doctor forgot
his visitor while he bent his skilled energies to
this task; but hardly had the door closed \ipon
the last patient, when the old man hurst forth:
"I thought you told me that you were not
doing anything! "Whv. if I had helped twentvfive
people in a month as much as vou have in
one morning, T would thank God that my life
counted for something."
"There isn't any money in it., though,"
explained the son somewhat abashed.
"Monev!" the old man shouted, still scornfully.
"Money! What is money in comparison
with being of u?e to vonr fellow men? Never
mind about monev; von will go right along at
this work everv da v. TH go hack to the farm
and gladly earn monev enough to support V0;U
? 1 ? TV "*
?!s muse hs i nvp?yw, and ?deen sound every
nicrbt with the thought that T have helped vou
tahelp your fellow men.'*?Chicago 'Advance.,