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INTO MARVELOUS LIGHT (Continued from Last Week.) “Make it a point to cultivate noble Christian men and women, for even New York has thousands of them. As I have often told you, you can never gain much strength of Christian character for your self nor influence upon others, until you have boldly stepped out before the world and proclaimed your self a loyal soldier of the Cross. No one receives a full measure of blessing from God until he or she obeys as well as believes. Dearest, are you ready to obey?” By degrees Christina’s whole being seemed to have received divine illumination. The physical body was overshadowed by the radiance of thl soul. In accents almost divine, she exclaimed: “The morning light is breaking.” CHAPTER XXVIII. On the night of Christina’s miraculous restora tion, John Marsden had no consciousness of horn he had reached bis own room. He moved as one in a dream. He sat for hours with his head resting upon his arm on the table by which he had taken a chair; and he was not aroused until the bright rays of the morning sun steamed across his face. His blood seemed to have been set on fire, something had been born within him .which he had not believed possible to exist in this life, an ecstacy of joy so akin to the divine. The emotions which filled his soul w r ere so far above any human pas sion, no words portray them. Thus far the chan nel of his life had run alone and as through a desert, its stream enlarged more by the waters of Mara than by the springs of sweet affection; catching glimpses now and then of another channel by which flowers bloomed with fragrance enchanting; then swerving and flowing wide apart, separated by bar riers strong; but all the while tending toward the same great sea, they were joined together at last and each was lost in the other. No thought of earthly marriage with the life which God had given unto his keeping came to him. His desires were beyond that. And there was no feeling of jealousy toward Julian Deveaux or of unrest within his soul, because he knew that what God had joined to gether, no man can put asunder. He knew’ that Christiana’s life had become a part of his very own. The purity, the gentleness, the unselfishness, the modesty, the aspirations Heavenward and God ward making up her being, brought such harmony, such melody into his own soul so perfectly attuned to hers, he heard within a multitude of angels mak ing music upon a thousand strings, he saw the gates ajar through which the light of Heaven shone into his holy of holies, he realized in port how the pres ence of God who is the source of the pure, the per fect divine—who is love itself—can make Heaven and that wherever v’e are in His Spirit is Heaven itself. And if the union of two perfectly attuned human souls can bring, each to the other, such un speakable joy, he knew’ that he did not hope in vain for the fulfillment of the promise, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath pre pared for them that love him.” From henceforth he would have a new message to preach to mankind, a new song to sing with the redeemed, a new hallelujah to send forth in praise to God, for he had been lifted upon the Mount of Transfiguration. CHAPTER XXIX. It was the afternoon of the day—the first day of life anew to John Marsden. He called upon Mrs. Wayland to inquire after Christiana. She had scarcely greeted him, when she was summoned from his presence, and in a few moments Julia Deveaux entered with Mabelle in his arms. “Here, John, is my peace offering. I have brought my one treasure, coveted as my own, back to Annie and to you. I am conquered, Here, take her to your heart as of The Golden Age for June 28, 1906. By LLEWELYN STEPHENS old, my dear boy. Go to John, baby, for he wants you back again.” “No, no, he is not 'my John’ any more. He forgot me and did not love me, nor bring my poor mother to see me when I wanted her so.” But John was so beside himself with joyful sur prise for Annie’s sake, more than his own, as much as he had loved the child, that he did not heed her childish panting, but snatched her from her father, and almost crushed her in his own arms against his heart. When she had regained her breath, she very de liberately placed a little hand on either side of his face, and looked into his eyes with such question ing that he laughed and blushed like a boy; and to cover his confusion, he pressed her to him again, exclaiming, “I dare you to say again that I am not your John!” “0 you are my John!” she cried, throwing her little arms about him, and covering his face with kisses. “You are my John, and mother’s John and father’s John! Isn’t he, father?” “If you wish him to be so, baby.” Her words cut to the quick him who was battling so hard in the struggle for mastery over the heart which had long been swayed only by its most selfish desires. But this day the emotions to which he was accus tomed to give vent, seemed as dead; for a stronge guest had entered his heart unawares—while An nie’s spirit had lingered on the threshold of the better land, —<and was knocking for entrance into the innermost chamber of his very soul. Perhaps it was one of the angels in the throng which had hovered about Annie. It may have, been his angel mother who left him when he was a babe; and thus early orphaned, had been placed by his father in charge of Roman Catholic keeping, where he was educated for the prieshood, against which training his soul had rebelled since his earliest memories of it. It may have been the spirit of Christiana’s father who touched his soul and awakened it from its long sleep. Through the veil which hides from eyes of flesh the ministering angels which God sends to earth, the eye of the soul only can penetrate, ex cept in rare instances, many times, we may hear a voice within, but until we have learned to recog nize the voice of God, we run hither and thither and say again and again as did Samuel of Eli, “Thou didst call me.” Julian Deveaux’s soul had been awakened to hear the question, “My son, my son, why persecutest thou me?” He tried to get away from the sound of it by making many resolves as to his future conduct. Tn the early morning, after the physical exhaustion of the long night by Annie’s bedside, and after his passions had burned themselves out, he locked him self in his room and tried to lose consciousness in sleep. But that still small voice kept knocking, knocking, knocking at his heart, recalling to his mind that sound like none other—the thud of the clods of earth as they fall upon the coffin lid of a best beloved; and the question again and again was asked of him, “My son, my son why persecutest thou me?” As he lay trying in vain to stifle this voice, he be gan to quake with fear, while the cold perspiration stood out on his forehead. Unable longer to re main quiet, he sprang up, exclaiming. “The spirit of Annie’s father has come to haunt me! Douglass! Douglass! if you have come to torment me, I beg of you but one mercy—spare me from a mad-house! Yes, I know I have been a demon, I have broken the heart of your idol whom you intrusted to my keeping; I have done all in my power to wreck the life of the one man who desired truly to help me to be worthy of your little one; I have even placed my own child in the very prison which made a demon of me. But this very moment Douglass, I’ll begin to right all wrongs. This very hour Annie shall have Maybelle restored to her, and on my knees I shall beg her forgiveness. And anything John Marsden asks of me, I shall willingly do for him. He shall have a million dollars to build a church where his little mission now stands. What more? Yes, yes—the ocean shall at once separate her from me—yes, forever. I swear it, Douglass! ’ ’ And still not for an instant did that same ques tion cease to be asked of him. “My son, my son, why persecutest thou me?” Unable longer to remain in his room alone, he had quickly dressed himself for the street, or dered his closed carriage, and before Mabelle had her breakfast, her father was returning home with her. And as soon as Dr. Gordon had permitted it, she was restored to her mother as has been re lated. Thus it came to pass, that when John called in the afternoon, Julian could hardly be courteous to Mrs. Wayland in his haste to make friends with John through Maybelle as a peace offering. (Continued next week.) Explaining English to a Frenchman. A Frenchman, while looking at a number of ves sels, exclaimed: “See what a flock of ships” He was told that a flock of ships was called a fleet, but that a fleet of sheep was called a flock. To assist him in mastering the intricacies of the English language, he was told that a flock of girls was called a bevy, that a bevy of wolves is called a pack, but that a pack of cards is never called a bevy, though a pack of thieves is called a gang, and a gang of angels is called a host, while a host of porpoises is termed a shoal. He was told that a shoal of buffalo is termed a herd, and that a herd of children is called a troop, and a troop of par tridges is called a covey, and a covey of beauties is called a galaxy, and a galaxy of ruffians is called a horde, and a horde of rubbish is called a heap, and a heap of oxen is called a drove, and a drove of blackguards is called a mob, and a mob of whales is called a school, and a school of worship is called a congregation, and a congregation of engineers is called a corps, and a corps of robbers is called a band, and a band of loafers is called a crowd, and a crowd of gentlefolks is called the elite. The last word being French, the scholar understood it, and asked no more questions. Nothing so teaches us charity.as the conscious ness of our own mistakes. 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