tee = Wee e diese Kro ceive Ke Hie Hie sie Sir John Lister gave his secretary p@ grave glance as he entered the library. _ 'Among the money you paid into the bank for me there were notes for one hundred and twenty pounds, Darrell,' he said, going at once to , the point. "Where did you get them from? I gave you all gold." _ The secretary braced himself up visibly. "T gave someone cash for them," he answered, after a slight pause. 'For whom did you change them?' the baronet pointedly in- quired. "They are good, aren't they?' par ried Darrell. "Certainly. But they were stolen from Mr. Cheyne's room--" "Stolen !" The word escaped him in a hoarse exclamation, and he turned to the man who had not yet spoken. "Yes; between dinner-time last night and this morning," quietly explained Mr. Cheyne, as though in answer. "On discovering my loss I told Sir John--the matter concerns the reputation of his house. I in- formed the bank on his advice and have just learned that you paid the notes in. You must give Sir John all the assistance you can to prevent the recurrence of such an unpleas- ant affair." The secretary's hands closed tightly over the back of the chair against which he stood, but he made no rejoinder. "Now, Darrell, how did you come by those notes?' the baronet sharp- ly demanded. "T am not at liberty to say," was the disconcerting answer. "Did you steal them yourself, then?' asked Sir John, becoming angry at the other's attitude. "Tf you think me guilty you have your remedy," retorted Darrell, flushing at the insinuation. uy warn you, though, I can do nothing to prove my innocence My lips are sealed." The baronet rose and paced the floor impatiently. He prided him- self upon his unbending justice, but for the present position he knew Ro precedent. "Well, it's your look-out," warned, coming to a stand. "If this stubbornness lands you in prison you'll have only yourself to thank. In justice to my guest I must probe the mystery to the bot- tom, however unpleasant the cir- cumstances." 'We can't go so far as that, my dear fellow," protested Cheyne, as Sir John made towards the bell. "Think of the disgrace," urged the baronet. "And how can I in- vite guests while I know they may be robbed as you have been?' "T regret to interfere," Cheyne resumed, "but I should not dream of taking action against Darrell or anyone else. Such a proceeding is absolutely out of the question in this peculiar case." he "T won't press the point," grant- | cannot ed Sir John. Sstil~ F countenance this cheating of justice. Darrell and I must. part." The announcement came upon the young man like a bolt from the blue. His whole nature surged with rebellion at such an undeserved punishment, yet he must suffer in silence. "In judging me by this inade- quate evidence you do me a wrong that---" "Don't whine!' snapped Sir John, wheeling fiercely round on him, "You've had your chance and refused it. Now go!" Too proud to plead, the secretary made his way to the door. "You'll leave the house as soon as possible, please," the baronet added, as a parting shot. "At once, Sir John," icy reply. "Halloa, Darrell! What on earth's the matter?"? exclaimed Dick Lister, who was crossing the hall as his father's secrtary came down from his room, after packing his things. "T am dismissed," was the reluct- ant admission. "Tell me, Is it what--I feared ?" the voung man questioned, appre- hensively. "Tt ja,?? "But you won't hetray her?" cried Lister, gripping the other's arm. 'Exposure wonld so shame her that she woud never look up again. The pater would never for- frive her !'" 'Retray her!" reveated Darrell, in astonishment. 'I love her--she had promised to become mv wife-- T was to have asked Sir John for her to-morrow. Now--" : He broke off with a despairing gesture. "Tt's for her sake, Darrell.' "She may devend upen me. row tell her that? "Certainly. And if there is any- thine T ean do--"' "Phore i¢ nothing, thank Grnd-bye." Then. with th shedow of a crime haneinge over him, Tom Derrell left the house he had so faithfully ser- red " » Ts the &-vs immediately following came the Will you. * * * * * | that ' down."' his secretary's dismissal Sir * John] - Lister had poignant misgivings as THE COWARD'S WAY 3 to the wisdom of the part he had played. His kinder side and his high sense of duty came into stern conflict, but he consoled himself with the reflection that he had done as honor dictated. No other guests complained, and that also gave him considerable satisfaction. One day, some time after Dar- rell's departure, an eminent poli- tician wrote asking the baronet if he could recommend his late secretary. To this there could be but one answer, for Darrell had deliberately chosen to serve some unknown third person in prefer- ence to his own employer. In_ his reply Sir John told the truth, as he felt bound to do. He heard nothing more for months; then news came in rather dramatic fashion. A foot- man informed him that Mr. Darrell had called to request an interview. When he was shown in, the bar- onet experienced an acute pang of remorse. His clothes were rough and worn, and his features bore traces of privation and mental suf- fering. "T came to ask you, Sir John, if you would be kind enough to give me a reference," he began. "You know I cannot conscienti- ously do so," . was the reply. "At the most critical juncture in your period of service you proved untrustworthy." "But if I were prepared to ex- plain all, on certain terms?' Dar- rell hesitatingly suggested. "T will accept nothing but an un- conditional confession," declared the baronet, convinced that if he played a strong hand the other would yield. "When you are pre- pared to furnish that, you may re- sume your old duties." If he closed with this offer, all his troubles would be over, mused Darrell. .He would have--betrayed the girl he loved! The thought struck him like a blow. "I'm sorry,' he said. 'I know you can help me, but I can't pay price. It's a bit too--low "You are on the rocks--don't you want to get off?' "Getting myself off would put someone else on. Someone----' He broke off sharply. "Are they worth it?' asked Sir John, in a kind voice. "You are wrecking your life--are you sure the cause is worth the sacrifice? Don't act blindly. Some day it may be too late to exonerate yourself." "T am in honor bound to silence," volunteered Darrell. "I must be- come a traitor to exonerate myself --it is already too late!" There was an air of finality in the words. Argument was evidently useless, so, disappointed though he was at the termination of the inter- view, Sir John allowed his visitor to go. * * * * * * * Every curve in the winding lane brought back recollections of May Lister, and, as he swung along it, Darrell knew he was as deeply in love with her as ever, no matter what she had done nor how she had treated him. He turned into the fields where he and she had often walked together. He saw again the slender, girlish form--the shy, timid eyes glancing fondly up at him--the curving lips of the tender mouth. Yet she was a gambler and a thief! His walk quickened to a savage stride. He despised himself as the dupe of a pretty face and winning manner. "Tommy !'? Darrell drew up with a jerk. There before him, on the very spot where she had promised to become his wife, stood the girl of whom he had been thinking. "You!" he ejaculated. was a sting of scorn in the greeting. "Why do yoy speak to me like that?' she indignantly demanded. The man laughed harshly. "Look at me!" he commanded, flinging out his arms. ."I have tramped the streets of London, rag- ged, hungry, and footsore. I am a navvy, working on the railway over the hills yonder. I am an out- cast of society--I have sunk to thé bottom of the pit of despair. And it is all your work."' "Mine--mine?" reiterated girl, in apparent mystification. "Yes, yours," Darrell heatedly affirmed. 'Didn't your brother tell you that Sir John dismissed me at a minute's notice because I re- fused to say how I came by the stol- en notes I changed for you?' The color left the girl's face and her hand trembled nervously on the half-open gate. "Nobody told _me--I couldn't steadily. "And you had to 'go be- understand it,'? she answered un- cause of--that !" Veg"? "Then you have come back to tell?" she ventured in little more than a whisper. "That was my intention, but at the last moment I could not do it. You see," he went on, in a softer tone, "Dick had told me all." 'And now?' faltered the -- girl, with an unmistakable shudder. "Oh, now I'm going back into the pit, because I'm a soft-hearted fool!' he answered, in a bitterly self-contemptuous tone. He would have passed her at that, but she stood in his path, drawn up to her full height. Her eyes sparkl- ed and a spot of deep pink burned There rude tha on each cheek, EHE you the whole sordid story?' she ask- ed, with a touch of --haughtiness. "Say 'Yes', and it shall be done." | "Tf you wait for that you'll never tell. But--' ae oe 'They were standing close togeth- er, and Darrell caught the girl roughly by the whists. .Then he | released her quickly. A wild desire to sweep her up into his arms and cover her face with kisses had seiz- ed him, but he mastered it and pass- | ed on. : eee "She has ruined me!" he hoarsely muttered to himself as he strode away. "But, Heaven knows, love her--how I love her!" "Tommy ! Tommy !" the girl call- ed, appealingly. She looked after him, her straining eyes flooded with tears for the shame she had brought upon him, but he did not turn back. 'How he must hate me!' she thought. "Still, he knows all, and I am glad of that." * * * * * Cae Se Sir John Lister was in his library, talking to his son and daughter and Miss Castle, the young lady to whom Dick was engaged, when the servant announced "Mr. Darrell."' The baronet seemed not the least surprised, though it was less than a week since the previous visit. "T sent for you,"? he began, as his late secretary entered the room, "because I believe we can clear up that- disagreeable bank-note busi- ness,"" Darrell's face hardened. Dick and May spoke to the former's sweetheart' to remind their father of her presence, bit the baronet went on. "We can see how Darrell has suf- fered for his loyalty to the person who gave him the notes. Should any of you be able to throw any light on the matter, I beg you to do so."' The secretary wondered could have impelled the man _ to adopt so humiliating a way of sift- ing the affair. When he would have objected, Sir John raised a depre- cating hand. During the tense silence that followed, he saw Lister looking across at his sister, whose eyes were fixed upon the ground. 'Well!' the baronet at last rap- ped out. "Who gave Darrell the notes ?"' "J did!" The scarcely audible words were spoken by the girl, and at the same instant she flashed a glance at the secretary, the mean- ing of which he completely failed to comprehend. Sir John's gaze wandered slowly over his daughter from head to foot. he gave no signs of anger, but his face blanched and the furrows of age showed more plainly. "You!" he groaned, in a choked voice. The girl drew a queer, breath, then turned away. "For Heaven's sake stop this nonsense !" cried Darrell, angrily. "Tid she give you those notes?" the baronet relentlessly persisted. "JT refuse to answer," retorted the young man. "I'd rather live under suspicion for the rest of my life than be cleared by such a heart- less inquisition as this." "And have none of you anything more to say?' After a painful wait of several moments, Sir John went up to his son and placed his hands upon his shoulders. '""My boy--my boy, why don't you speak ?' he implored, The little group were amazed at this sudden change of demeanor. Lister stood looking at his father, a terrified expression on his white, drawn features. "Dad, what do you mean gasped. A terrible sternness came into Sir John's rugged face, and his weakness was swept away by wrath. "J mean that you are a disgrace to the name you bear!' he roared, crashing his hand down upon the table beside him. "You have sunk to a lower level than a common thief. You have----" "T know--"' "Silence!'? thundered the bar- onet 'You have robbed your fath- er's guest and allowed another to bear the blame. Even now your eoward spirit would shift its shame to a sister's shoulders !"' "You blackguard!" hissed Dar- rell, through tizghtly-closed teeth. "You told me May had lost over one hundred pounds at bridge and that she had stolen those notes to pay with." May Lister said nothing. She was dumbfounded at the revelation of her brother's duplicity. She understood now what Darrell had thought when he told her he knew all. "T have long suspected that the guilt in this matter lay upon my own family,'? continued Sir John. "Therefore grieved as I am to ad- mit it, I have kept a keen look-out. This resulted in my overhearing the conversation that took place the day after Darrell's last visit, when May begged you to make aclean breast of your wrongdoing. You might think it was cruel of me to have asked Edie to be present at your exposure; but it's only fair that she should know you as you are, if she is to trust her whole future in your keeping. I'll be no party to deceit of any sort.'" This drew attention to the girl, whose presence had been nearly forgotten. She was fumbling awk- wordly with her fingers. Then they understood, for; she placed a glit- + jerky 92? he you wish to tell my father what! |} power to succeed," he | rising to his feet. significant without a single word, she plucked a white feather from her boa and laid it beside the ring. ae Lister recoiled as from a blow, then he burst into a discordent laugh. i = "Quite in the story-book vein, Edie,"? he cynically commented. Just then he caught the look of un- spoken misery in the girl's eyes, and love asserted itself. His assumed callousness fell away, and the real man came uppermost. "T did take the notes," he sud- Tlenly burst out, "and got May to change them so that they could not be traced to me. I had lost the money to a bookmaker, who threat- ened to write to dad if I did not pay. My God, what a miserable, contemptible fool I have been!' He threw himself into a chair and buried his face on his arms. "We are in the way,' said Dar- rell, drawing his eweetheart from the room, "He isn't all bad yet,"' Sir John whispered into the ear of his son's sweetheart, "and if anything can save him it's--love."' The girl looked wistfully back at the lonely figure in the. chair. The door closed--they were alone. 'She went over and touched the bow- ed shoulders, "You know what the man in the story-book did with his feathers ?" she asked, striving hard to keep her voice steady. "He--he made the givers take them back," Lister replied, lifting his head. "He proved that he wasn't a coward after all." '"'Well, the world is wide, danger is easy to find." "To you give me that chance?' he demanded, hopefully. "T must give it you,"' mured, happiness. one else. Oh, Dick, make me take it back--don't fail me!" "T'll not fail you, it it's in mortal promised, "You've made a new man of me, Edie, and though you have been ashamed of me to- day, you shall be proud in the days to come."' There was voice, and she mur- a new ring in his a firmer set to his mouth. The girl felt that there had sprung | to life in him the indefinable force which carries a man to his goal, and she was glad. * * * * * * * "Y'd like you to know. Tom, that I've never plaved bridge for money," said May to Darrell, directly they had reached the hall. "Let's forget all that, dear," pro- posed Darrell, "and go back to those happier times before this "Tt is my only chance of-- | T shall never love any- | | SiR THOMAS MooRE, BART Cork Aristocrat Peddled Coz) Till eS He Wed a Scotch Wife. Ireland has never lacked quaint and romantic personalities. Sir Thomas Moore is the owner of what must not be described as a mush- room title, It did not growin a night nor was it conferred on him for any political service. Sir Thomas is no mere knight, he is a full-fledg- 'title did not bring with it any of the rich things of this world. So Sir Thomas Moore, Bart. was obliged for quite a number of years to re- sort to the expedient of hawking coals for a living in the streets of the Rebel City, where he became a conspicuous character. : Sir Thomas's finances could not even reach the dignity of the usual horse and trolley, mostly adopted by coal hawkers in Cork streets. A donkey and barrow had to suffice, and from this barrow the baronet weighed out coal from 14tbs. up- wards to the democratic citizens of his native town. There was however some satis- faction to Sir Thomas in feeling that his poor customers enjoyed the unusual honor of being served in this way by a real man of title, who moreover neyer manipulated the scales to the disadvantage of the buyer. They said he was a real "barrow knight." Titles to Irish men of honor have often proved to be more of an im- | pediment than a source of income, ; and so it has proved in the case of | Sir Thomas Moore. No considera- ition, financial or otherwise, could induce him to lend his authority to wild-cat schemes where his name might be an attraction on the front page of a company promoter's pro- spectus. Even the blandishments anxious to annex a title, who flaunted their money bags in the face of this impecunious baronet, failed for a considerable number of years to move him from the position he had taken up of earning a mod- of coal hawker. An amusing story is related of an English society woman who came to Cork with the hope of persuad- ing Sir Thomas to abandon bache- lorhood. with her at a local hotel. The baronet left his donkey and barrow round the next block and put in an appearance at the hotel covered in coal dust and with all the other traces of his occupation thick upon him. In spite of that the lady was ;out for a title and was willing to ' take Sir Thomas to the nearest Reg- ed baronet, but as in the case of} |many of the Irish artictocracy his of American and English heiresses," est living by the obscure occupation | She invited him to dine! The Up to Das Methods Employed by Norwegians. One of the most remarkable fea- tures of present day shipping and one which is not very generally re- coghized is the enterprise of Nor- wegians in Southern ocean whal- ing, says the Pall Mall Gazette. The first trial, which met with immedi- ate success, was made in 1903 by a Sandefjord. firm on the advice of Capt. Carl A, Larsen, who was in polar expedition and who reported that the sea literally swarmed with whales. eer ee <- From 1:04 to the end of last June no fewer than fifty companies, re- presenting an aggregate capital of nearly two millions sterling, have been formed to prosecute the in- dustry, and according to the latest available information most of them have paid large dividends ranging between 30 and 100 per cent. A good deal of Norwegian success they have bought up a large num- ber of second hand British steamers and adapted them for the purpose. And in this connection it is of in- terest to note that two of the latest purchases have been the Dundee steamer Loch Tay, acquired for £20,000, and the well known Brock-_ lebank liner Carnarvonshire, for which £14,000 was paid. Another contributory cause is that old methods have been discarded and the task of locating and capturing whales in the vicinity of Kergue- len Island, the South Shetlands, South-east Africa and the west coast of South America is allotted to specially fitted vessels, some for whale catching and others for stor- ing and carrying the oil to Europ- ean ports. Stimulated to emulation, a firm on the Tyne is to despatch an ex- pedition consisting of three whalers, a factory ship and an oil carrier at the end of this mouth for operation near Kergulen Islamd and_ the South Shetlands. Two of these vessels are to be propelled by Diesel oil engines, the first ships of the kind to be thus equipped, and all will be fitted with wireless telegraph apparatus so as to be in constant communication with each other, Much, it is said, depends upon this experiment, as other British com- panies are prepared to follow suit. During the last few weeks several new Norwegian concerns have been formed to attack the whaling fast- nesses of the far South, while two |German companies are to operate | off the New Zealand and Australian | coasts. ,Commerce is also giving its sup- cloud overshadowed the brightness | istry Office, but no amount of be- port to a movement for establishing of our lives." "'Ah, if only we could wipe it all soften the bachelor heart of the| African waters. p? out 'At least, we can treat it as dead and forgotten." "We will. and----"' "Darrell !" called Sir John. ing towards them as he com- post awaits you directly you care to come back." "Thank you," replied the secre- tary. 'But before I accept that kindness I must beg agreater. I have for a long time been deeply in love with May. you for her when we parted. I can- not live under the same roof with her on a footing of mere. politeness or friendship. I am aware that my request approaches persumption, but my happiness depends upon her. Will you give her to me?' "Phew!" whistled Sir John. "That is a staggerer. I had hop- ed she would make a really good match; still, I place her happiness first, so I shall leave the decision to her discretion."' On the spur of the moment Dar- rell shot out a grateful hand; which the baronet grasped with a humor- ous smile, "You did not give dad a definite answer,' May remarked, when Darrei! was leaving her at the drive-gate a few minutes later. "No," her lover agreed. "We each left our answer to you, and one reply will do for both questions. Shall I come back again as secre- tary to your father?' "T think you ought to,"' cided, looking up "You suited him know,"' "Ts that all?' he inquired. "Tsn't it enough?' ANG?! "Then please come back, because I'm sure no one else would ever do,"' "For whom--Sir John ('" "Yad tt ATide : "Oh, and for me, if I must say it, you tease." Though she spoke so lightly, there was a quiver of emotion in her voice, and Darrell gave a low, joy- ous laugh as he took her in his arms and kissed her.--London Tit-Bits. she de- a little shyly. so well, you "Yes," said the young father, 'we're pretty busy at our house now. We're moving." "Moving? Where?' 'Moving everything out 'of baby's reach. He's learning ta crawl." "You seem to find your book very interesting, Miss Maidstone."' "Yes; it is one of the most charm- ing stories I have ever read. And so true to life. Every man in it is @ villain.' T was about to ask | | puiling or fascinating glances could 'artistocratis coal ealer. "She | came,.she saw, but she did not con- | quer" was his observation when he | told the story some time after. | But in spite of all his determina- left the | tion, the day came when the proud | see Pe . . e | library, "you understand, your old) old baronet succumbed to the bland- | iishments of a fair lady of Scotch ancestry whom he married about a year ago. Matilda Elphinstone, {now Lady Moore, was the only ;daughter of Captain John George | Elphinstone who occupied a post in India under the Indian Civil Ser- vice. Like her husband, she has passed the years of frivolous and youthful romance, but she. has brought her husband a small _in- come which has enabled him to re- tire in his old age from his tiring occupation of carrying coals up the ricketty staircases of Cork's tene- ment houses. MARCHING IS HARD WORK. People are apt to think soldiers very poor walkers because an army on the march covers only ten or twelve miles of ground per day. Even then a good many men fall out through fatigue, some faint, and the whole are completely done up at the end of the day. But the soldier is, nevertheless, a first-rate walker. It is all a matter of foot-tons of energy expended. Ttake an ordin- ary laborer, and his day's work will be equal to three hunrded tons lifted one foot high. A man, walk- ing seventeen miles on the level, does the same amount of muscle work. But mark, if he carries an overcoat weighing six pounds, he does 311 foot-tons. Now the sold- jer is a regular pack-horse, and the kit that he carries averages about 60 th. in weight. So that he does exactly as much work in a twelve mile walk. Besides, the soldier has to "break camp" before starting, and at the finish of the march he has to pitch camp, draw water, collect fuel, clean rifles, ete., not to speak of taking sentry-go. When, as sometimes happens, an. army marches twenty miles, the day's work of the solider is really two days' work, or about 600 foot-tons. a Experience may be the best tea- cher, but some people prefer a more fashionable school. The noblest work of God is man, but you can't make some married women believe it. The strike at Lambeg Bleaching Company's Mills, Lisburn, has been amicably settled. ;the whaling industry in South | mn | 7; ENGLISH RATLWAYS PROSPER. | Net Earnings in 1910 Were 5 Per | Cent. More Than Previous Year. The paid up capital invested in the railways of the United Kingdom ; amounted in 1910 to £1,318,515,000, | haying increased by slightly more jthan four millions sterling on the| The net earnings | | figures for 1909. out of which dividends were paid amounted to £47,356,000, an in- crease of £2,222,000, or 4.9 per cent,, on the year before. This was the net rsult of an in- crease in both receipts and ex- penditures, says Engineering. The traffic receipts, the highest on re- cord, showed an increase of three and a half millions sterling, the sixty-one and a half million from goods. The number of passengers carried, exclusive of season ticket holders, | was 1,306,729,000. There was a | large increase in the proportion of third class passengers, chiefly due perhaps to the action of the Great Western Railway in doing away with its second class service on long distance trains. This would not account, however, for the total in- crease of 44,000,000 in the number of third class passengers. The freight receipts a train mile are the highest on record for 1910, being about 95 pence, compared with about 71 pence for ten years previously. This is an increase of 34 per cent. during a period in which the train mileage decreased 14 per cent., though the goods ton- nage handled increased 21 per cent. Ea ia SUPERIOR TO IT. The tramp leaned against the door-jamb, while Miss Annabel! Sheldon peered out at him through the screen, and he gazed past her at the kitchen table. "You look strong,' said Miss Annabel. "Are you equal to the task of sawing and splitting half a cord of wood ?"' "Equal to it, madam?' said the tramp. '"'The word is inadequate. I am superior to it," and a moment later the sunshine played on the door-jamb where his figure had so lately leaned, and down in the road drifted a cloud of dust raised by his patient, plodding feet. : a. Tf a mother says her boy is "sen- sitive" it's a safe bet he is spoiled. It's a pretty good fault for a wo- [SOUTHERN OCEAN WHALING.| command of the Antarctic at the |, time of Otto Nordenskjold's south | ~ is admittedly due to the fact that} The Cape Town Chamber vel sign. | better. ¢ | been endeavoring to purchase amount being 114.2 million pounds, | : of which £52,759,000 came from pas- | ded thing but the inspiration of senger traffic and the remaining | man's elBow to be sharper thap her tongue. ot . _-- Sold for Fifty-seven In a London auction-room weeks ago there was sold a s¢ of twenty-two silver-gilt dish beautiful in themselves a famous historically tha brought fifty-seven thousand hundred dollars. The ron story of the Harris Eliza banqueting-plate, as it is. i us told by. the New > Spanish then than it is now, fense of his country The Harrises, as a ré tained a considerable sha luckless In 1581, it is known, t possessed: a few silver-gilt _ The spoils from the Arm mitted the making of mor cordingly, the service was ed to fifteen dishes ¢ plates, severally hall-ma the years 1599, 1600 an carrying the maker's mai trefoils and monograms. the rim of each was eng! the coat of arms of Sir pher Harris. are Time went on, and the ¢ began. Sir Christopher's d ant held a command in the forces at Plymouth, and alarmed for the safety o looms. Accordingly, he hidden away in a cave in t of Yealmpton, on Dartm™ the secret of their hiding died with him. ween For nearly two hund the Elizabethan banqueting time, 1827, rang with the story of its dis by three Dartmoor laborers ployed by a Mr. Splat of B who wished to enlarge the cave storing potatoes. Both the C1 and Mr. Splat abandoned # claims in favor of the Harris ily, and the John Harris of the came into his own again. -- Subsequently, another ant of the family, Mrs. Cato Trewsbury, Cirencester, pur ed the service, and by this orders it was offered for sa Christie's. When unearthed ty-four years ago, the local ex judged it to be of Queen Anne The judges of to-day -- For years collectors beautiful pieces privately, bu failed ee %. - ' SENTENCE SERMONS. All great things grow noiselessly Ill temper is the vice uf fe tuous. Doubt is the proiude of © V ledge. Le Religion is additiva, not*subst tion. to love. : The Bible is a product of religio! not a cuase of it. Friendship is the nearest thin we know to what religion is. Meekness and lowliness cure um rest by making it impossible. -- Touchiness is self-love inflamed it is conceit with a hair trigger. The work of religion is not to move the burden but to adjust 7 Religion is not a stranger o secular life. : It is the law of influence th become like those whom we h ually admire. Doubt is can't believe ; unbel won't believe. Doubt is hon unbelief is obstinacy. " It is easier 1) criticise the thing superbly than to do thes lest thing indifferently. ee In rest there are always two ments---tranquiliity and e otherwise it is mere -etagnas Wounded vanity and unsat | selfishness : these are the old, vi causes of man's unrest. The people who influence yo the peope who believe in tuilelessness is the secret sonal influence. ie There is no other reason should live either to-mo after death except becau and are beloved. ar: A man does not have the of Christ because he know to read about them; as w: feed upon a cook book, -- The thing Christ wants is the best men; and the to make the best world ; to make the best world by the bes» men loose upon th to influence it. _ It is not breadth that sn ligion, but what one mig narrowness of breadth-t which denounces intole which is too intolerant intolerance, j Life is the finest of Many people never live; they grow up "at carrying into mature li animal methods and had as little children i ., It's awfully hard for a git give the right young Kissing heri-"" es