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he said to those around him, as they poured their congratulations thick upon him, “Oh! my fellows, I was a weak and trembling coward. You have no idea how near I came returning without her. I am ashamed of myself. It was your cries of encourage ment that nerved me for the task.” God only knows how many faltering, trembling, weak souls there are to-day who need cheer. How many times the clouds have hung over us, with no pillar of fire to guide. How many times have we stood by the waters of the Red Sea and seen the angry waves roll and break, and no way to escape? We needed cheer there to bid us onward. If, when we are fearful, some tender, loving, confiding hand had been put in ours, and a sweet, gentle voice had spoken, we would have seen the way of escape. Oh! my friends, let us be on the alert for such oppor tunities for doing good. There are so many people to-day who could be saved from falling and from great mistakes if the right thing was said in the right way, and at the right time by the right man. A Holy Life. Fourth, but lastly, we may do good by living a holy life. There is nothing that counts for so much in a community as a holy life. Several years ago in Roanoke, Va., there was a great riot. A negro was held in jail for committing an awful crime. A cer tain rough element of people became very much enraged and organized a mob to demand the pris oner that they might lynch him. The Mayor of the city, to counteract the mob, called out the two mili tary companies and stationed them in the jail. The mob, however, continued to demand the prisoner, and finally made an attack upon the jail. The mili tary companies opened fire and ten men were killed. While the firing was going on the authorities got the prisoner out of the jail and carried him away. The mob found it out and went in pursuit of him. They finally overtook him, snatched him from the officers and swung him to the limb of a tree almost in the heart of the city. But even this did not satisfy them. They were so enraged at the Mayor for ordering the military to fire that they took the poor dead criminal from the limb and started to drag him through the streets of the city to the Mayor’s house. There was no stopping them. They had gotten beyond the power of the officers and the military companies. Finally the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, an old resident of the city, and one of the best men in the world, stepped out in front of the mob and, lifting his hand, said: “Men, in the name of God stop this thing! If you go any further you will have to trample on my body; this thing must stop.” In stantly the crowd dispersed and the riot was quieted. This is the power of a holy life. It is worth more than military companies. We will never know until we get to the other world how to value the im portance of good men and women in our commu nities. And this is not only true with men; it is true also with God. He places more value upon a holy life than anything else. Take Sodom for example: Abraham pleaded with God to save Sodom, and God told him that if he could find fifty righteous men there He would spare the city. But the fifty right eous men could not be found. Abraham pleaded again and God told him that if he could find forty five righteous men he would spare the city. But forty-five righteous men could not be found. Then Abraham pleaded for thirty and twenty, and finally ten, saying, “Peradventure ten shall be found.” And God said, “I will not destroy the city for ten’s sake.” Think of it, the fate of the great city of Sodom would turn on ten righteous men. What a value God puts on righteousness! Would we do good? Would we see the work of God pros per? Are we ambitious for our church? Then let us remember there is nothing that counts like a holy, righteous life. It outweighs money, culture, position, influence and everything else put together. Let us be careful, therefore, about our life. A simple, righteous life is worth more in the affairs of the world than all the wealth ■ and power that winks at sin and mixes wi x A devil. The Golden Age for June 7, 1906. INTO MARVELOUS LIGHT (Continued from Last Week.) CHAPTER XXV. By degrees Mr. Deveaux persuaded his wife back into society. But she went in a listless way just to please him, and because he would have gone without her if she had not accompanied him. She resented everything which deprived her of giving full sway to her mother’s love. She must have some way of satisfying her heart’s hunger. She could press the baby heart to hers all she liked, she could kiss the baby lips every hour, she could repeat, “I love you baby, darling, more than all the world,” without any power to say her nay. Thus she became more attached to her home and to a mother’s duties, while the husband drifted back into the world and began to live much the same life as before he was married. He spent the greater part of his time away from home. Not until little Maybelle was three years old did her father pay her much attention. . Then her beauty, so like her mother’s, began to interest his artistic eye. He painted her portrait, and began to take pride in showing her to his friends. Not until he became interested in her himself did he notice the extraordinary affection which had sprung up between her and John Marsden, and again he be came insanely jealous. John Marsden became the sharpest thorn that pricked his heart. Deveaux’s love for the stage once more outweighed all other interests. Christiana and John both plead with him not to return to it, but without avail. One day he made the startling announcement that he had an idea which would take New York by storm. He was planning to put Maybelle on the stage. She was such an unusual child, so gifted beyond her years, that in a short time he would have her pre pared to make theater-goers wild over her. Chris tiana thought of course he was jesting. But he was so persistent about it she was at last convinced that he was in earnest in his intentions. Some stormy scenes followed. Christiana appealed to John Mars den. This made matters worse. Harsh words passed between John and Deveaux. John was never so angry in his life and left the house with the intention of never returning. The final result of a most unhappy chain of cir cumstances was that Mr. Deveaux put his little daughter, at the age of five years, in a Roman Catholic convent. She was carried there secretly and no entreaties from the almost crazed mother could induce him to reveal the name of the place. Christiana was too proud to make the matter pub lic, but too broken-hearted to survive the mental strain. She no longer had even the consolation of John Marsden’s visits; as true to his word, he had never called again. She was denied having even her aunt with her. She had discovered, through a note which Isabelle Conrad had written her husband that her pretended friendship was only a blind for the sake of the infatuation she had retained for him all these years. She lost faith in God’s goodness and in all men—save one. Her heart turned more and more to him. Christiana bore up under this strain for a year, then a complete break-down came, followed by a slow fever, which, day by day, ebbed her life away. She wished and prayed to die except for the hope of some time having her baby back home. Not until she became delirious did Dr. Gordon discover that she was dying of a broken heart, and what the causes were. As soon as he had an opportunity he said: “Well. Deveaux, it’s a pity I did not let you go when you had that attack of heart failure a few years back. If you do not send for her babv your wife will not live a week longer. It’s cowardly for a man to kill his wife by breaking her heart. If you are bent on getting rid of her that you may marry Isabelle Conrad, why don’t you stab her through the heart with a knife at once. Tt would be far more merciful to her and decidedly more By LLEWELYN STEPHENS. honorable in you. I have lost all patience with you.” “See here, Gordon, you are getting decidedly too personal, but since you have first broached the sub ject of my domestic troubles I will say in justice to myself the secret of the whole matter is that my wife does not love me. She betrayed that last night. I used to suspect that she loved John Marsden, but they kept their secret so well I had decided I was mistaken. I care nothing for Isabelle Conrad; I simply used her as a tool, but I have discovered she was all the time making the tool of me. I love my wife yet in a mad, jealous way, and you can imagine how desperate it makes me to hear her say that she loves another man. John Marsden, my best beloved and truest friend, not only won my wife from me, but my baby also. Why man, the child far better than she did me. Do you think (I could tolerate all that? No, never. He advisednijrTHAfe' and dared dictate to me how I should daughter. You may think me hard and far easier to preach than to practice. I feel toward the man who professed friend, but who has proven to be suc&tf As long as my wife was true to me, When she ceased to love me all haU- BMc dies I suppose I shall commit I3utoagi|t)ng as she lives I shall have some on him. So let me alone. Far and I were both dead, and our baby, tkcu, ra&mljMga.flier see them both dead than for Jopos sess and enjoy them. Curse hi)A. Dr. Gordon turned away, drifts with Deveaux were useless. Zy When Julian Deveaux heard ’s own lips in her delirium that she loved JnjKjfiqfsden he was at first as if dumb. The n jealous t#y filled his whole being. His next impulse wgs to go to John and tell him of the untrue friend, tfye great hypo crite, the Judas-like minister he had discovered him to be. Upon second thought, however, he decided a ±ar greater punishment would be to persuade him,io Christiana’s dying bedside, calmly watch his suf fering, then, when she was gone tell him what he thought of him.. John was not surprised to see him enter his study, for he had heard that Christiana was very ill. He thought Julian would turn to him again in the hour of trouble. Many times he regretted not having endured any insult Deveaux might heap upon him for the sake of her so secretly loved. Deveaux made every word cut as deeply as possible. “John, Annie is dying.” John Marsden caught to the table and gasped as if a knife had been plunged into his heart. “Yes, our Annie is dying, and I thought perhaps we might forget all quarrels over her and be friends again. So come, for Dr. Gordon says she cannot last through the night.” John mechanically took his hat, but did not utter a word. He never realized until now how much she had been a part of his very existence. Deveaux smiled grimly to himself over his revenge. His plan was working well. He could not have wished for better results. The two men entered the death chamber together. Deveaux motioned John to one side of the bed and gave him a chair, then sat himself down on the opposite side that he might have full view of his suffering. With no light of recognition in her eyes Chris tiana turned to John and said: “If John would only come I am sure he would make it all right. He always made things right. I wish I had told him how I loved him, then perhaps be would have pitied me a little and have come back to see me sometimes. If he knew how I am dying for a sight of my baby’s face I believe he would find her for me, even if he had to go through blood to do it. I would go through blood for him. (Continued Next Week.) 5