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REV. DR. TALMAGE.
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THE BROOKLYN DIVINE’S SDN
DAY SERMON.
-
Subject: “Our Need of Cleansing.”
•Itot: “If 1 t eOsk myself with snow
ter, ah, and shall 'should I cleanse my hands in
1 yet Aou plunge me in the ditch,
’he., mins own. telothts shall abhor me,’ 1 —
SO, 91.
Albert Barnes—honored be his name on
it as I have now quoted it, giving substantia)
reasons for so doing. Although we know
better, water there the ancients had an idea that in snow
and mat was a special washed power rinsed to cleanse, in
a garment and it
Would be as clean as clean could be; but il
tile then plain they snow would water failed to do its work,
mixed ft with take oii, lye anti or under alkali that and
preparation would certainly they felt that Job, the last impurity
be gone. in my text,
m most forceful figure sets forth the
idea that all his attempts to make himself
pure before God were a dead failure, and
that, unless we earthly are ablated by something
better than liquids and chemical
ditch: preparations, “If I we are myself loathsome with and in the
wash snow water,
and should I cleanse my hands in alkali, yet
•halt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine
own You clothes shall abhor me.”
I torn are the now sitting obscura for yopr picture.
word camera of God’s
full upon you, and I pray that
the sunshine falling through the skylight
may enable me to take you just as you
are. Shall it be a flattering picture, or
shall it be a true one? You say: “Let it be
a true one.” The first profile that was ever
taken was taken three hundred and thirty
years before Christ, of Antigonns, He had
a blind eye. and he compelled the art¬
ist to take his profile so as to hide the
defect in his Vision. But since that inven¬
tion, Christ, three there hundred have been and thirty y ears before
files. Shall I to-day give a great many pro¬
you a one-sided
view of yourselves, a profile, or shall it be a
full-length If portrait, God will showing you just what
you are? help me by His al¬
mighty grace, I shall give you that last kind
of a picture.
When I first entered the ministry I used to
write my Sermons all out and read them, and
run my hand along the line lest X should lose
my scripts. place. Shall 1 have I hundreds of those inajni
for days ever I preach them? Never;
in was somewhat over-num
tered with the idea I heard talked all around
adopted about, of the the dignity of human nature, and I
trated it, and idea, I and I evolved ft, and I illus
life, and having argued ft; but coming on in
studied seen more of the world, and
better my Bible, I find that that early
"• teaching human was faulty, and that there is nodlg
nitv in nature, until ft is reconstructed
by to pieces the grace the of God. Skerries, Talk about vessels going
on off Ireland! There
newer was such a shipwreck as in thaGihon
and the first Hiddekel, rivers of Eden, where
our parents foundered. Talk of a
Steamer going down with five .hundred
passengers on hoard! What is that to the
Shipwreck W by of fourteen hundred million souls!
e are nature a mass of uncleannass and
putrefaction, nipotence from infinitude which it takes all tlfe om¬
and of God’s grace to
extricate us. “ If I wash myself with snow
water, kali, and shalt should I cleanse my hands in al¬
and yet thou plunge ms in the ditch,
my own clothes shall abhor me."
I remark, in the first place, that some peo
pie water try of to fine cleanse their soul of sin in the snow
“I apologies. sinner; Here is one man who
says: am a I confess that; but I
inherited this. My father was a sinner, my
grandfather, and all the my great-great-grandfather, Adam,
way back to and I
couldn’t help myself." My brother, have
you not, every day in your life, add¬
ed something to the original estate ol
sin that was bequeathed to you ? Are
you not brave enough to confess
that you have sometimes surrendered to sin,
which you ought to have conquered? I ask
you whether it is fair play to put upon our
ancestry things for which we ourselves are
personally askew when responsible? If your nature was
times given you got it, have you not some
it an additional twist? WiU all
the tombstones of those who have preceded
us make a barricade high enough
for eternal who had defenses? blasphemous I know a devout
man parentage.
I know an honest man whose father was a
thief. I know a pure man whose mother was
a waif of the street. The hereditary tide
may be very strong, but there is such a thing
as rupt stemming is it. The fact that I have a cor¬
nature no reason why I should yield
toit, The deep stains of our soul can never
be washed out by the snow water of such in¬
sufficient apology.
Still further, says some one: “If I havs
gone into sin, it has been through my com¬
they panions, ruined my comrades They and taught my associates: to
They me. me drink.
took me to the gambling hell. They
plunged me into tho house of sin. They
ruined my soul." I do not believe it. God
gave to no one the power to destroy you or
me. If a man is destroyed he is self destroyed,
and that is always so. Why did you not break
away from them? If they had tried to steal
your purse, you would have knocked them
down; watch, if they had would tried to purloin your gold
you have riddled them
with shot; but when they tried to steal your
immortal soul, you placidly submitted to it.
Those bad fellows have a cup of fire to drink;
do not pour your cup into it. In this matter
of the soul, every man for himself. Thai
those persons are not fully responsible for
your sin, I prove by the fact that you still
consort with them. You cannot get off by
Warning them. Though you gather up greai at
these apologies: though there were a
flood of them; though they should come down
with the force of the melting snows from
Lebanon, they could not wash out one stain
of your immortal soul.
Still further, some persons apologize for
their sins by saying: “We are a great deal
better than some people. You see people ali
aroixid about us that are a great deal worse
than we.” You stand up columnar in your
integrity, in and their look habits down upon those who ar«
prostrate of that,my brother? If I failed and crimes. What
lessness and wicked imprudenceior through reck¬
ten thou¬
sand dollars, is the matter alleviated at all
failed by tiie for fact that somebody thousand eise has
one hundred dollars,
and somebody else for two hundred
thousand dollars? Oh, no. If I have
the neuralgia, shall I refuse medical attend¬
ance because rav neighbor has viruleni
is typhoid fever? than mine—does The fact that that his disease mine!
worse cure
If I, through ray break foolhardiness, leap off into
ram, doss it the fali to know
that others leap off a higher cliff into
deeper darkness? When the Hudson river
rail Duyvii, train, did went it alleviate through the the bridge matter at at Spuy all that ten
there instead of two seventy-five or three mangled people and being crashed hurt *
were
Because others are depraved, is that any ex¬
cuse for my depravity? .Am I better
haps them J~L2 emrounclings aVe in m U lire !Ue & wax
more overpowering. Perhaps, 4 ) man,
if you had beau-under the same stress of
temptation, instead of sitting hero % 5 -day,
SPRING PLACE. GA., THURSDAY. JUNE 20, 1889.
IHIIjI
§$3§fif£3 tots. tetoLJv Uni by instead of wasting our
wrmticrLsm aboUt others,
deflelts ? What are our perils? What our
SS®0J L • S ®iS : 44 WTuya
( )
rsssssisg’raire '*_!« . . , .
me heavenly the compass eiints it it the had been curved;
ls sun SJVTX31d“w luster is 'SK almost
rati SF&. 1
woven ha looms celestial,
And you ^s&y: 1 Was there ever
2? pw .l 2 ***
oeautiful as the snow V’ But you brought a
pall of that snow and put it upon the store
and melted It; and you found that there was
a sediment at the bottom, And every drop of
that mow water was riled; and you fcliud
that the snow bank had gathered up the
impurity •,1V**?? Of * at the wash field, ln and Add that after it
n0 *° - <w I say
will be if you try to gather up these contrast
and comparisons with others, and with these
apologies your heart attempt and life. to It wash will bo out the sins of
an unsuccess
ful ablution. Such snow water will never
wash away a single stain of an immortal
soul.
But I hear some one say: “I will try some
thing better than that. 1 will try the force
ot a good resolution. That will be more
pungent, cleansing. more caustic, more extirpating,
more The snow water has failed,
and now I will try the alkali of the good
strong resolution.*’ My dear brother nave
you any idea that a resolution aboui
the future will liquidate the past? Sup
pose I owed you five thousand dollars
and I should come to you to-morrow and
say: “Sir, if I will never run in debt to you
again; X should live thirty years X will
never run in debt to you again-” will you
turn to me and say: “If vou will not
nm in debt in tho future, I will forgive
you the five thousand dollars.” Will you do
that? No! Nor will God. We have been
running God. If up a long future" score of indebtedness with
isissi^stjssss&s^t for the we should abstain
this time forth pure as an archangel before
the throne, God, that would not redeem the
declares part. that in the Bible, distinctly
he “will require that which
is past”—past opportunities, past neg
lects, agiuatW past wicked everything. words, past impure im
pa*t The past ls a
great cemetery, and every day is buried in
it. And here is a kmg row ot three hundred
dead and days sixty-five of 1888. graim Here They are the
is a long row of
three hundred and sixty-five more graves,
and they are the dead days of 1887. And
here is a long row of three hundred and six
days ty-ffive of more 1886. graves, It and they are the dead the
is a vast cemetery of
paet. But God wiU rouse them all up with
stands resurrectionary face face blast, with and juror as the prisoner
to and judge, so
you and I will have to come up and look
upon those departed days face to face, exult
ing “Murder in their smile or cowering in their frown,
will out,” is a proverb that
stops too short. Every sin, however small,
as well as great, will out. In hard times
in stated England, that years ago, it is authentically
a manufacturer wason the way,
uifch a bag of money, to pay off his hands. A
man infuriated with hunger met him on the
road, anil fence took a rail with a nail in it: from a
paling nail entering and the struck, skull him instantly down, and the
slew him.
Thirty years after that the murderer
went back to that place. He passed into the
grave yard, where the sexton was digging a
grave, and while he stood there the spade of
the sexton turned up a skull, and, lo ! the
murderer saw- a naif protruding from the
back part of tho skull; and as the sex
ton turned the skull it seemed with hoi
low eyes to glare on the murderer •
and he, first petrified with horror, stood
in silence, but soon cried out. “Guilty!
guilty! 0 God!” The mystery of tno
crime was over. The man was tried
and executed. My friends, all the un
pardoned think sins of our lives, though we
and may they into are ‘ buried out of sight
gone a mere skeleton of
memory, will turn up in the cemetery
of the post and glower upon us with
misdoings. Ob, have I say done all our unpardoned
you the preposterous
of supposing that good resolutions for
the future will wipe out the past? Good re¬
eaustie solutions, though alkali, they may be pungent and
as have no power to
neutralize a sin, have no power tit
wash away a transgression. It wants some
thing this. Yea, more than earthly chemistry to do
yea, and though “I wash myself with
in snow alkali, water, shalt should I cleanse my hands
yet thou plunge me in the
ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me."
You see from the last part of this text that
Job’s idea of sin was very different from that
of Michelet, Eugene Sue, or George Sand, or M. J.
crof any of the hundreds of writers
who have done up iniquity in mezzotint,
and garlanded the wine cup with eg
lantine and rosemary, and made the
path of the libertine end in bowers of
ease instead of on the hot flagging of eternal
torture. You see that Job thinks that sin is
So, not a flowery o, dte»ir*i«5ro. parterre; that ft is not a table
and Pandean pipes, all making music
deep, together. loathsome No. He says ft is a ditch, long,
plunged into it, and stenchful, there and we are all
we waflow and sink
and struggle, not able to get out. Our robes
of propriety saturated and robes of worldly profession
are in the slime and abomination,
and our sOul, covered over with transgression,
hates fts covering, and the covering hates the
soul until we are plunged into the ditch, and
our own clothes abhor us.
I know that some modern religionists cari
cature sorrow for sin, and they make out an
easier path than the “pilgrim’s progress”
that John Bunyan dreamed of. The road
they the city travel of Destruction, does not stop where John’s did at
university; but at the gate of
the and I am very certain
that It will not come out where John’s did,
under the shining ramparts of the celestial
city. No repentance, no pardon. If you do
not, the ditch, my brother, what feel that yon are down in
do you want of Christ to lift
you out? If you have no appreciation of
the fact that yon are astray, what do you
want of him who came to seek and save mat
which was lost ? Yonder ls the City of
Paris, the swiftest of the Inmans, coming
across the Atlantic. The wind is abaft
so that she has not only her engines
at board work, 'k, the the bat bat Umbria Umbria all all sails sails up. up. I I am am on on
of of the the Canard Cunkrd
line. The boat davits are swung aroiind.
The boat is lowered. I get into it with a
red F^ris floe ftcommrandT'^v^ and cross over to where h e t-.Ha t ^v Cit "ThI
ransa wuunganax wave.the th e flag. The
captam What looks off from the bridge and says :
“ do you want?” I reply :' “ I come
Pistil ftfttftftty ”*1^™ dtfrftftft!
£££££>£&£ deck, and some and all make great
outcry, The pray, a
“.’S5'»S3““'-C"ho^.’Sffi cajfiain say»: "You hove
from stem to stern and from
the ratlines down to the cabin. I.
S “tT the 1 Tmbria. t"p M
«rS fast as I can toward the sink
s2xssv.?s;isr to theboat, jscs
get under the side and when X have swung up
of the City of Paris, the
each ana pistols, waiting try to keep back the crowd,
his turn to come nejrt.
The ? J* b r, ° ne lifQ “» d t he y^
want to get into it . t and the cry is: “Me
next! me next!” You see the application
before I make it. As long as a man going
on in his sin feels that an is well, that ne is
e^’nimr not at a Leeutiful cort. and has rU
tail set,he want* no Ohi-ist,he wants no help.
he wants no rescue; but if under the flash of
Pod’s convicting sin spirit he shall see that by
feasonot logged, 6« is dismasted and watw
and going down into the trough of
the sea where he cannot live, how soon he
puts the sea glass to his eve and sweeps the
cries horizon, and "I at the first sign of help
out: want to be saved. X
want-to 1* saved now. 1 «nut to be saved
forever." No sense of danger, no appHca
fclon for fescue.
oh . tij at God’s eternal spirit would flash
upon us a sense of our sinfulness! The Bible
tells the story in letters of fire, but we get used
toit. Wo joke about sin. We make merry over
it. What is sin? Is it a trifling thing? Sin is a
vampire that is sucking out the life blood of
y our unmortal nature. Sin? It is a Bastale
that 18 expatriation no earthly from key ever God unlocked. and heaven. Sin? Sin?, It
14 * s grand larceny against the Al- !
“ligbty, tor the Bible asks the questions,
“Will a man rob God?” answering it in the
affirmative. This Gospel is a writ of reple
v 'in to recover property unlawfully detained
Qoi
*» the Shetland Islands there is a map
with leprosy. The hollow of the foot has
swollen until it is flat on the ground. The
1 wild beast. A stare unnatural
'® m es to the eye. The nostril
is constricted. The voice drops to an
almost inaudible hoarseness. Tubercles blotch
the whole body, and from them there comes
an exudation that is uubea-able to the
holder. unless That, ckns«l is leprosy, by the anti «< of Jwye God, all 9H
14 grace
fevitveus. Soke. ® e f. p ee **«*•
See fifty Bible allusions and cohfir
aa ti on8 '
ThB Bible . not . complimentary . in . its *an-
18
guage. sins. it does It does not speak talk mincingly apologetically, about
our not
There is no vermilion in its style. It does
not cover metaphor. up our transgressions with bloom
ing them in weak falsetto; It does but not thunders sing about out:
it
“The imagination of man’s heart is evil
from his youth.” “Every one has gone back,
He has altogether become filthy. He ls
abominable and filthy, and dvinketh in in
iquity Jesus Christ like water.” fiings And then feet the Lord
down at our this hu
of miliating proceed catalogue: evil thoughts, “Out of adulteries, the heart
men
There fornication, murders, thefts, blasphemy.”
is a text for your rational
ists to preach from. Oh, the dignity
of human nature! "There is an
element of your science of man
that the anthropologist never has had
Bible, the courage in all yet ins to and touch; and of the the
the outs
most forceful style, sets forth our natural
pollution, ful thing, and represents exhausting iniquity thing, as a fright- loath
as an as a
something. It is not a mere bemiringof the
feet, going it is not a mere head befouling of the hands;
it is down, and ears under, in a
ditch until our clothes abhor us.
thrusts My brethren, I shall we stay down where sin
us? shall not if you do. We can
not afford to. I have to-day to tell you that
there is something purer than snow water,
something is more pungent than alkali, and
that the blood of Jesus Christ that
cleanseth from all sin. Ay, the river
of salvation, bright, crystalline and heaven
born, lowy tide rushes through this audience with bil
strong enough to wash your sins
com the ipletely and forever away. Oh, Jesus, and let
aam that holds it back now break,
the floods of salvation roll over us.
From slvltoom th^uueTho^ims'fkSu,
wrath and make me pure.
Lot us get down on both kneesand baths in
both binds rad ta-yto swinTtothe other store
of word this of river this of salvation God’s grace. sent. To_youisths Take this
largess of the divine bounty. Though
you have gone down in the deepest ditch
of libidinous desire and corrupt be
havior, though you have sworn all blasohem
ies until there is not one sinful word left for
you to speak, though you have been sub
merged though by the transgressions of a lifetime,
you are so far down in your sin that
uo the earthly Lord Jesus help can touch your case—
Christ bends over you
to-day, posing to and lift otters you his right hand, pro
you np,first making you whiter
bootblack to another, “when we come up to
heaven it won’t make any difference that
we’ve been bootblacks here, tor we shall get in,
not somehow or other, but, Billy, weshaU get
i straight through full the gate." Oh, if you only
knew how aad free and tender is the
offer of Christ, this day, you would all
take Him without one single exception; and
If the doors of this house were locked
save one, and you were compelled to
' ' make there egress and by only one door, and the I
rtood questioned you, and
Gospel of Christ hail made the right impres
rion u P° n y our went heart to-day, and you all: would “Jesus an
swer me as you on, one
is mine, and I am His!” jQh, that this might
be the hour when you would receive
Him! 14 43 not a Gospel merely for
footpad* it is and for the vagrants highly polished and buo- the
eaneers; and
educated and the refined as well. “Ex t a
““ b® bo™ again, he cannot see the
dom of God.” Whatever may be your
associations, and whatever your world
ly before ' refinements, God I expect I must to tell you, as in
answer
4,16 last day, that if you are not changed by
4!l ditch ® grace of sin, of in God, the yon are still down in the the
ditch of sorrow, in
ditch of condemnation; a ditch that empties
into into But But blessed blessed a a deeper deeper be be ditch, ditch, God God for for the the the the ditch ditch lifting, lifting, of of cleansing, cleansing, the the lost, lost,
Illustrating power of His Gospel.
the voice ot free grace cries, Escape to the moan
«*«?&*«•** Hallelujah! tain; to tho i-amb wlao opeaeda W bought rouuta.a
us our
We’U pardon-, prates him
, again wlieu wo pass over Jordan,
t '
lllti?
Whn In spit. of the frost aod now
^asa«su And I knew the heart it came from
Would be like a comforting stall
u £3rs‘f^' Hopeful and brave and strong- t ,™u,
One of the hearts to lean on,
we think all things go wrong.
I turned at the click of the gate latch.
A f flc « Idte this gives me pleasure
lake the page of a pleasant book.
™ a brave and daring will;
A face with a promise in it
That God grant the years fulfill,
He went up the pathway singing;
t ™ w „ v „.
Grow „ bright , , with ... worldless welcome .
a
As sunshine warms the skies,
“Back again, sweetheart mother,"
He cried, and , } bent . to t ,.• lass
_ The loving face that was lifted
For what some mothers miss,
That boy will do to depend on;
I hold that this is true—
r _ *° m ^ . . in . *°J . e wlth ... thelr ■ . mother *
Our bravest heroes grew,
Earth’s grandest hearti have been loving
hearts ”***
Since time and . earth .. . began;
And the boy who kisses his mother
Jg.every 1 inch a man.
GUY’S NURSE.
BY HELEN FORKKST GRAVES.
«<Hush ’ Dorcas! Is that rain? It
•
founds if genii .. dashing , , ,
as some were
.^n« a .«...
mentg.”
“It’s rain, Guy. The equinoctial
storm, you know.”
at dronrjfmoaning down the
U'l
the bcdciolhei up
red flames from the V.szi™“r o™n“
hearth danced up and down like a
magic-lantern, the shaded lamp burned
steadily on the table. Dorcas Wynter
stitched quietly away at her sewing
without looking up.
“It must be an awful tempest, Dor¬
cas, ” utter the lad, as a fresh gust of
wind seemed to shake the old octagonal
tower to its very foundations.
“It is, Guy. I beard old Caplain
Lake say that the tide had not been so
high since the year the Royal Victoria
was wrecked off Paine Point.”
“It’s better to be here, even with a
broken leg,” said Guy Palcy, slightly
lifting his eyebrows, “than out at sea in
such a blow as this!”
“A good deal better, Guy.”
“Not that I am a coward, Dorcas!'’
cried the boy. “There are worse things
than a storm at sea. And I have an in¬
stinct that 1 shall be n sailor yet. But
this sickness has taught me—this sick¬
ness and you, Dorcas—that it’s better to
go for a thing in au honest, straight¬
forward way than to try to reach it by
sneaking. .But I always supposed it was
« fine thing to run away to sea, or else 1
shouldn’t have tried the get-out-of-the
window-by-midnight dodge, and broken
mv leg. I’m wisar now.”
„ Dorcas smiled at him with melting ...
hazel hazel eyes nnd and rese-rea n se-red lms lips, revealing rovraiincr a a
line of pearls.
Poor Guy! said a „;,i oll sue. „ „ It r . was a „
hard lesson, wasn't it?”
I think I needed , , it, .. Dorcas. ,, If ever
there tncre was was a a thorough morougnpaceu naeed voumr young ruf- rui
flan, it was 11 ’ groaned the boy. “But,
Scolding 6 without end I got, I grant you,
hut no one . talked , common sense to me
before> you are the only J one who
seemed to think mo worth reasoning
w)4 “> . an “ , you snail . .. sec, Dorcas Dorcas, that tnat
I’m worth the trouble. Once I’m up
from . this ... . scrape, ,,,, 111 tackle , , , my , lessons
in real earnest and try ' to be something
better. And I Eay, Dorcas— „
“Yes, Guy?”
“You’re the prettiest girl I ever saw!"
“Nonsense, Guy 1”
“Oh, bat your are—and the sweetest
and the most sensible! I can’t think
how you ever came to be housemaid in a
place like this.”
Dorcas colored a little.
“Shall I tell you, Guy? I came as
governess to the primary department,
but I had no discipline, they told me.
Tho younger boys did exactly as they
pleased. I've always thought (hat Mrs.
Vail, who succeeded to the position, hud
something to do with the bad reports of
«ny management that reached Doctor
Vol. IX. New Series. NO. 20.
Delfer’s ears. But that can’t be proved;
neither can it be helped. I was alone
here and friendless, and I was glad to
accept a vacant position under the house¬
keeper, to mend linen, care for the oc¬
casional cases in the infirmary, and make
myself generally usuful.”
“I knew you were a lady!” exultantly
cried the boy. “I could see it in your
face.”
“I would rather you would call me a
rue woman, Guy, than a lady,” said
Dorcas, moving the lamp a few inches
further back, so that the light should
not shine in Guy’s eyes.
“But I say, Dorcas, how old are
you?”
( 1 Rather young, I am afraid, Guy—
only nineteen.”
‘ ‘And I am fourteen, Dorcas. Will
you wait seven years for me?”
“Guy 1”
“I shall be twenty-one then, and my
own master 1” added the boy, “and I’ll
work like a slave to get a good profes¬
sion, and if you’ll marry me, Dorcas, I’ll
make the best husbaud that ever was to
you, for I'm desperately in love with
you, that I ami”
Dorcas burst out into laughter.
“Guy,” she said, “what a child you
are!”
“But you do love me, don’t you? ’
' ‘Yes, of course I love you, but not a
bit more than I do Cec 1 Parker or little
Frankie Games. ,f
“Dorcas 1”
“Well, a trifle more perhaps, because
I’ve had the care of you these four weeks,
and you’ve really behaved very decently,
but—”
“Promise me, Dorcas I”
“I won’t, Guy!”
“We’re engaged, all the same,” said
Guy, with a deep sigh of relief. “It is
a bargain. And now you may get me
my bowl of gruel.”
“Yes, Mr. Paley,” said Doctor Del
fer, with a nod of his spectacled brows,
“(hat wild boy of youra is a different
nfitmary nprse has
16*
troublesome spiffs,
boy in the school, on
ting to you now, that I was seriously
contemplating expelling him from our
members.”
“Guy always was a wild sort of chap,”
admitted Mr. Paley. “But his aunts
spoiled him. He never had any bring¬
ing up to speak of."
* ‘But this illness seems to have ex
cried a wonderful influence over his
moral nature,’’ added Doctor Delfer.
“And I really think Dorcas has done it
all. Her influence has been wonderful.”
“She deserves a great deal of credit,
I am sure,” said Mr. Paley. “I should
like to see her anl thank her. Ive
brought a few presents for her—a warm
shawl, a silver snuff-box and a black
stuff gown—”
Doctor Delfer gasped a little.
“She—I don't think sho takes snuff ~ 1"
said he, feebly.
“All these nurses do."
>*Yea—but—there she is nowt"
The door opened and Dorcas Wynter
came in, carrying a student-lamp, which
sho had just filled and trimmed anew.
Mr. Palcy dropped tho silver snuff¬
box in astonishment.
“I beg your pardon, I am sure!” stam¬
mered he.
And when the doctor suggested that
the nurse had better accompany young
Guy on the journey home, he assented
without a remonstrance.
“Nurse, indeed!” said Miss Sophro
nia Paley, a gaunt, high-featured, dam¬
sel of fifty. “As if a pretty, simper¬
ing chit of a thing like that could un¬
derstand anything about nursing!”
“She does, though,” said Guy. “She’s
a brick, Aunt Soph. And I don’t be¬
lieve I should have been alive now, if it
wasn’t for her.”
“You r.re quite well enough by this
time to dispense with her services,” said
Miss Sopbronia. “A boy that eats the
quantity of muffins and plumjam that
you did at tea, last night, cannot call
himself an invalid any longer. She has
been here a month, and—”
“But she’s not to go away for all
that; Aunt Soph,” said Guy, who was
devouring roasted chestnuts like a
dragon. “Ask papa. She’s to be Mrs.
Paley one of these days, and—"
“Mrs. Paleyl” Aunt Sophronia turned
green and yellow. “It’s come to that,
then, has it? Well, I’ve suspected it this
some time. And all I’ve got to say is—”
“Seven years from now,” said Guy,
with his mouth full of chestnuts, “I
shall be twenty-one and she twenty-six.
Not enough difference to signify. And,**
he uttered, with a grin, as his aunt
flounced wrathfully out of the room,
“you’ll get your walking-tickets, old
lady, when I’m married! I'd as soon
have a death’s head and bones around
the place any time.”
He was sitting curled up in the easiest
chair in the library, reading a book, half
an hour afterward, when the door opened
and his father came in.
Something in the paternal glance and
movement struck the boy.
“I never saw father look so young
and bright before,” he thought. “Some¬
thing must have pleased him very much.
Perhaps Aunt Soph is going to marry
some old fogy or other, and the coast
will be clear.”
“So you knew all about it, Guy?'
said Mr. Palcy, laughingly.
“About what, sir?"
“About my engagement.”
The book fell with a crash to the
floor.
“Your—what, father?”
“At least you told Aunt Sophroim
about it. Well, I’m glad you are
pleased, my boy. And Dorcas says she
shall always love you as if you were her
own son. As a general thing, I don’t
approve of stepmothers, but you and
Dorcas love each other so dearly, that—
Why, Guy, what is Ihe matter?”
For the boy had rushed out of tho
room with an odd, suffocating sensation
in his throat.
He met Dorcas coming in from the
garden, with a bunch of scarlet holly-ber
ries in her hand.
“DorcasI” he cried—“Doroas, you
are as false as the serpent-woman I You
beau—”
She comprehended him in an instant,
(hough his voice was choked into si¬
lence.
She flung away the scarlet cluster and
put her arms tenderly about him.
“Dear Guy,” she whispered, “I love
him; but if you are unwilling—if it
takes away any of the home feeling for
you—it only remains for you to say so,
then Guy sn.d,
“Well, so let it be.
trump, and you are the only woman
alive who is worthy of him. And I sup¬
pose people would say six years was too
much difference in our ages, although
how they’re to get ovor the fifte3n yean
between you and father I don’t know,"
he adde 1, with rather a forced laugh.
And then and there Guy Pa’ey learn¬
ed bis first lesson in self-abnegation.
Dorcas picked up her holly-berries
and went to the library, where her prom¬
ised husband stood.
“I have just seen Guy,” she said.
“Isn’t he pleased?”
“Yes, I think he is,” hesitated
Dorcas. “Guy is a strange boy—a noble
nature. I am not sure, Horace," she
added, with a dimness in her eyes,
“that I would havo married you if I
could not always have had Guy with
me.”
“And my true wife will be Guy’s true
mother!” said Mr. Paley, drawing
Dorcas tenderly to his side.— Saturday
Night.
Keep Your Eyesight.
Dr. F. Park Lewis spoke recently,
says tho Buffalo Courier, upon weak
eyes and near-sighted people. He
stated that while people with near¬
sighted eyes might show no loss of sight
for years, still near-sighted eyes should
be treated with care. The best light
for the eyes was sunlight. A good
light must be strong, white and steady.
The heat of artificial light was then con¬
sidered. Sunlight has the least heat
rays; electric light came next; kerosene
and gas wore last and so the worst for
the eyes. He closed by stating that in
reading the back should be to the light,
the eyes should be shaded and never be
used when tired. One should not read
with an uncertain light nor on the cars.
Growth of Maples.
There is a popular notion that soft
maples grow much more rapidly than
those Of the sugar-bearing kind called
hard or rock maple. The soft maple
naturally grows on low, rich, marshj
ground, which may cause its greater
luxuriance in such conditions. Where
both have been transplanted on high
ground there is little 4iffercice in
growth. The hard maple is a few days
later-in putting forth leaves in spring,
but otherwise is juft as desirable as the
other, and for sugar-making is muc 4
more to.-Courier- Journal.
........
