Glamorgan Free Press

(Copyright.) 1 CYCLING DUELLO. B* B. RANGER. notistf» «"Glam°yIe, R.A "A York 4 John Shairp, Detective," &c., he. ,extremely pretty girls, and as )eo ight js as any two people whose bg_ right and who havt> perfect mirrors > either e was never anv nt>nsense about Thev h Rot when they were alone, at any *Ud h /i been friends from their baby- '°»eg act worn blue sashes and embroidered ll^anrtgethor- They llad n- to the sa?ie ''ow they were both in love with :H&and were attempt!? to keep up '<m .L"!Iies3 while discussing the matter. °8eci 'Ie-°re you came to VurW, that you Ch ,u ^"ould have to choose between the 'l, y, the Army, and so y<m hare, said 'U tho r.v dark one. '-l"f only you had lily Ch'Jrch." ^hair6 °thor one' was n' uii' 1>ut slie had ^have Jane," she said, "if Captain i'to j fn 'n the Church." Ill ^esay," said Sylvia. ?*> if have been eijua!iwell, either, lWe/°u 'lad not happens to pay your ■ ^JUst now. Captain H»lt and 1 would eatn engaged in a few weeks. I'm sure." liti you invited Sylvia, *h, v of course. I know that. It was) ar,j ut- Still, if you Lad not happened; J to v everything' Lewis has taken Stilf >U' 1 ^now- NoW can help seeing J,* ,had takena t'.mry to me before rj'y 8'I'm sure, morally sure, yes, I'm v r timt if either of us were to go '1 witwetl—well then, Captain Holt, would 4s in i °ther one. I'm convinced that »% „ Uc" torn in two wan as we are." *1 the last two sentences slowly. In ^isoi, °- ends had arrived at this point in .^Pon <r.Sl°ns several times before, and it loll ha,e iu the matter that the whole t f-j They continued it too, now, on %1kliQes m usaai. a wretched accident of course," ■h^Pbs retfully, after a pause. "Still— 18 awfully nice, Sylvia." A !),?% not take hiai yourself?" asked iNf* >ed her face uneasily in th« cushions] f^de »°n w^ich she was lying. |fe i#' 8'le said, briefly. ^'<1 s-??re trade for you than he is for a- "And you knr>w has plenty V' "lilv." 'Vn 311 irreproachable character, Sylvia." 'in be rather nice, in some respects, said riyivia. ,lVuu come intc ah^hv fv? £ °od many secrets. They say the v^CiC-i Marchioness of Sand shire was so ^Usn ^r* Cripp., at the Hunt Ball, <Ufe owes hitn an endless bill." K*>' said Emily, thoughtfully. But you know, Sylvia' 1'ancy seeing tyg» on your neighbour'* knives and jSyiVif7eryb°dy admire3 trcdr nowadays," •*1^ • "and Mr. Cripps is a perfect little l No one could say otherwise." money-" ^<14 ^cle in Parliament. ^^°ther who is a mayor." 8 pause for a mittu^* here, as if J^ad temporarily used up their %|v • but,before long Emily began again. Holt would distinctly shew jj" s ^ore for either one or the other CCtl K -J » "a exactly what he won't do, saidi k> Und .y°u say, I believe Captain Holt iSj ^«t, a?;,lded as we are as to which he carea; nt the only tiling to do is for one orj L^tog, ^8 to go awav, —irritably {Si WP ^or it." lu^to ^possible su^^tion, both girls, 0^ fot ence again. They continued in w the a 1?e time, too, one restlessly sigh-j cushions, the other drumming. V^ Presently Emily suggested iij ^8 H)11- for a run on their bikes, eir usual morning occupation, but: •L contin ^idly negatived by Sylvia, the again, until, some time after, S t»o«t v!^ brok,'ri by » scream from Sylvia Vl °7 the window. Emily raised her confronted by Sylvia's face, a(tiant and flushed with a sudden Ha SOt fl [^1**1*11f ,rnost brilliant idea, exclaimed Va cow J'011 b°w we'll settle it. We H v Mthlncea one of us were to Dra0^ explanations that the other it| Ifolt V'Vlcal,y certain to bccoine Mrs. \V^' I'hen let us ride a bicycle race Mi The tl0t "J Let us put it at the end of i 0 loses ?r,e who wins remain here. The has to undertake to %o away from fj14 Itolf —without any explanation to k J1, tha °f course—and ive the field i«v It What do >• >'•> think of it, R.°f n„°uld settle the mat'u-r without any H?Varrelling or ill-feeling. What do €%t E • iyf was, perhaps naturally, de- fi-(]V'4's. n>1rick by this novel suggestion 1 *t6 i> Perhaps Emily wao a little less Y*i»ie an ber iriend." Ar; any rate she so 'Ht c0tit;SoiTleW'hat out of breath at first, as (t(-lu?c' to pour ou! die manifold ),'y thai 'r scheme; ar.d it was only t whole beauty ui the idea as her began to. dawn on her. a8Jie.r^ the tossing-up that you ^ll e aS°>" she said, doubtfully, at •is^y not?"' asked Sy'via, recWessly. h »^vl • <lecide the nir.tt.-r somehow or! 41 jj^ia was known a-> a pioneer in rt j^ements amongst her friends—"Why t at the end of so;i; etfurt which we Ila e ^k^ko ? aud both to give up to \><la 0 Wins without ill-toe]in? H that Sylvia could see nothing > splendid in her proposition, and the poured strongly of the up-to-date 8'Hv Char £ icters of which they were 'ilS K0t' at anv rate, in a tew minutes e rit to see some of the unique ..both ,1(lea. if 1 "so something alike, don t we?" s tK^se H 0uld be fair i!1 that resl)ect- 6 ^hou^°uld," said Sylvia. "Then it ra" jt fatter without chance of dis- e f°ra Mil be perfectly lovely to ride t t0 „ prize—and I think it's fine. ^ily^thpj. 6 \pjn(jow to settle the question 'n' ^t, b ^fbaps the fact just mentioned » Par l girls' riding abilities were ■' it °r th a(' a good deal to do with W, ^9,8 settling of their difficulty. Or,! °thor asjHict of that likeness—! J; in tv Practically little more than ai"t, of wheeling that made i: %i e tn,a(i°lJt this special method of; 9 S 6 PraZp 'r to the test. In other words,! ir' ik.^th WaR yet in its first stage of raw! ^lylit seem strange, consider- *t! %«(.>„ %virt* the tftnea the two were At ^clist..> >"et they were not at all profi- » tli ha whie.h was owing to the Mh §o, been brought up—up to six W4 ^'v-i!y had come to live at V e far ( orkshire village, where the >L ^it^ 00 hilly for cycling. In con- ^«»eels ii. 4. the girls had done much 1 *ii^ die1'' three wee ts ago. when Syl- t tce \jastrons visit to her friend had u tnor,;fri both had spent the greater gr, In the saddle. that t^hia comparative rawness as e is a the two to look upon a l^rhan!na^ter of enjoyment in itself. them' th<1 same you't-h fulness in the ^■tue8chQ pre"ently, when Emily's diffi- }». 4t tvbad worn off, to choose the \Vte7^id for the ride" ork t0 Mai ton at first; but, 'Observed, that would not fni,r;^s ^r both "pace and "stay." i vProve to have one and one the Kt5'thsr 0)'k to Scarboro' was sng- it til, Cf knew much of the it''1 >k "? lis 1, their acquaintances bad !> ,ii t thp .J' both knew. The only could see to the Scarboro' 'Vi).tii' t',eskvwas a little overcast. Nv ever ridden a long dis- Jttj,Ce j "-her had either of them had tr iTiiif roads; so thev decided on J' tirsl- e cheerfully. And half-an- of Sylvia's original In the saddle. They had fc0V* <'o/ y i^b- Each girl hid also ,'fi ■;[? in her pocket, and then ''ger 0» jr novel race, which seemed V iI' in h n £ 'ts interest as a race t It ftorn h Zst with which the girls cVoi- erect blcycl»st's point of view. Cr.and smiling, each girl in her t/ -Ume' tbe flasks of cognac .P°ckets, and the caly the very actual ¥< So the race began; and the first seven or eight miles of it went off splendidly. This had been about the extent of the girls' spins hitherto; ana as they had never felt unduly fagged at the end, of them they had concluded that t:y could do a much longer spin if necessary. And they die not feel at all tired now, when they drew up at the first stopping-place-Earthn -in-the -Willows. According to the road-map this place was half- way to Malton, which is, in its tum,half-way to Scarborough, and the girls congratulated each other on both their pace and stay here as they dismounted to breathe. The only drawback, so far, had been that, from force of habit, they had generally forgotten to try to get in front. Eachl had found herself turning back to call to the other or even to wait for her. But they decided to be more careful in future. Both were very determined, however, and even the misfortune of a heavy shower of rain which fell from the overhanging cloud while the girls were in the inn at Barton, did not damp their ardour. It succeeded in damping the roads, however, as, when they were in the saddle again, they discovered. Then they remembered, too, that they had not ridden on heavy roads before, and they grumbled a good deal. But presently they settled down to remember again that they were racing. Then it was splendidly exciting, they said. were racing. Then it was splendidly exciting, they said. They had frequent opportunities for judging each other's powers now, for they passed each other every few minutes during this part of the race. The second half of the distance to Malton was other's powers now, for they passed each other every few minutes during this part of the race. The second half of the distance to Malton was naturally the more tiring, however, as both said, as they dismounted again at a little village three miles on the York side of Malton to rest again for a few minutes. Each had a little of her cognac here also. put in a bottle of lemonade which they bought at the inn and they declared, as they got into the saddle again, that they felt quite fit for the rest of the journey. But at Malton they decided to stop and have a second lunch. 1;. ,1 .1 Perhaps both girls were reeling a ii«ae urcu by this. It was on the length of previous spins of theirs that they were talking, at any rate, as they sat before the fire at the hotel where they had ordered lunch. They arrived at the conclu- sion that the present effort was exactly five times as long as any previous one. Then the roads were so bad, too, they mentioned again. They had never ridden on heavy roads before, ana they hoped that the man with whom they had left their bicycles would clean them thoroughly well. But the lunch made them feel better untill they got up to face their machines. And then each was appalled to find that her stiffness was worse for resting it awhile, yet neither of them said anything of this to the other. They mounted their bicycles in silence here, the only remark being a query from Emily as they pushed off as to whether, according to the road-maps, this second half of the journey were not some seven or eight miles longer than the; first And Sylvia replied that it was. It was half- past two as they left Malton. There were twenty five miles yet to cover, and they must try to get it in by the time darkness fell which would be about half-past four. Yet it was astonishing how soon there seemed: to arrive a suspicion of dusk in the atmosphere. Another eight miles brought them to Knapton. This had-taken them rather more than half anl hour to accomplish. It was a little after three when they reached here, and already there •eemed to be a darkening in the East. However, it was here that the most exciting incident of the race-so far-took place. Sylvia arrived here, so much in front of Emily that she was able to: mount again and ride away as Emily drew up at the inn. It seemed as if pace were likely to win, for both had agreed in the earlier part of the day,] when they had ridden so much together, that y Sylvia seemed to have it for pace, and Emily fori stay. But a little more than two miles past Knapton, when Emily was again in the saddle,] she passed Sylvia sitting under a hedge, herl machine resting against a gate. Perhaps by this time both girls were begin- ning to own to themselves that they were tired. They had passed each other at Knapton,' and where Sylvia was sitting under the hedge almost without a word, and Emily had said nothing to Sylvia of the fact that her hat waa on one side, while Sylvia had never mentioned that the pattern of Emily's veil had come off in fancy, trelliswork on her nose. However, a few minutes after Emily had passed her, Sylvia dragged herself up and oa to her machine again. She was strongly tempted to try walking and pushing the bike, but that would not get her on very fast. She mounted and rode on, and the next inn she rode dete minedly past, hoping that Emily was inside j Yet she was very tired now. 8he had never had; really aching limbs in her life before, and she had not expected it would be as bad as Mils. It was growing darker too. A village clock struck the three quarters after three, and i would plainly be quite dark before they could reach Scarboro'. Sylvia dismounted to light her: lamp and consult her road-map again. She hoped that she had passed Emily somewhere, and as she had several times during the past quarter of an hour ridden a dozen yards or 150 with her eves shut, in reckless fashion, it was quite possible that she might have done so without knowing it. She sat under the hedge again to consult her. road-map, wondering half dreamily where Emily was, and quite unconscious that, not al hundred yards away, another white road-map was flickering out ghost-like in the dusk, where Emily leaned against a gate to consult it. "I There was still another fifteen miles to be done yet, and presently Sylvia doggedly mounted again and pushed on. She almost wished she had not ridden past the last inn now. The thought of a cup of tea with her remaining drop of cognac in it occurred to, her—and possibly Emily might be as belated as she, though, as a matter of fact, the thought oft riding into Scarboro' first in triumph waa beginning to look a somewhat poor affair to| Sylvia now. Then another inn threw its ruddy, welcoming, light out into the dusk, but a sudden fresh accession of determination here caused her to resist her former desire for tea. She asked for and had a bottle of soda-water with the remain- ing brandy in it, and then she pushed on again' in some style, until she approached another inn, not a hundred yards away. Perhaps a couple' of drunken navvies at the door of this place helped Sylvia to ride past it. At any rate she' did pass it. Then on again. A hill came next,! and she fancied that walking and pushing the! bike was easier than riding; but she believedj that falling off it under the hedge would be- easiest of all. It was becoming a rather dreadful affair now. She wondered sometimes where Emily was. She had had no idea that a bicycle-race of forty; odd miles would be like this. It was almost quite dark too, now, and Scarboro' was probably yet twelve miles away, which seemed to Sylvia something like twelve hundred would do on an ordinary occasion. Yet she rode or for another ten minutes, and then another blessed inn fire flickered out in the landscape She would stay here she decided. She drew up at the dS thinking how these in neigl^hog. hke tott. ljrt >«- -abasia made a circuit in the darkness, a to the same place that she had p minutes ago. L She tumbled off her machine, and, asking, m a faint voice, for a cup of tea and a private room, she turned aside into what she supposed was indicated as the latter, and, finding a sofa and table there, she sat down on the former, I and, laid her head on the latter, determining to push on again very soon. Perhaps half-an-liour, or more passed while Sylvia rested in this little inn parlour. Apparently her order for tea had been misunderstood, for no one disturbed her while she sat still, not <l»rin(r to look at her watch for fear five minutes should have passed. But, although she felt hazy about some things, the knew that her tea had not arrived yet, because she had decided that the rattling of the tea-things when they appeared should be the signal for her to lift her head. Then perhaps she fell asleep. Perhaps the hazy thoughts about how very far away the other side of the room seemed when she thought about getting up to walk it-never to mention Scarboro', twelve miles away—passed into dreams. At any rate it was quite an hour after the strange lady had been shewn into the deserted bar-parlour and forgotten, when a strangely familiar sound suddenly broke upon Sylvia's ears and caused her to raise her head with a start. Yet the sound was only that of a very quiet ordinary man's voice, giving a still more ordinary order for hot port, at the bar just outside Sylvia's door. And the gentleman who gave the order was also quite ordinary-looking -a little nattily-dressed man, with, however, a certain air of wealth and standing about his app ;ance and his manner of quiet composure. but Sylvia, hearing the remark, suddenly sat! upright m her corner in the deserted bar-room. She listened for more. The colour that had so long been absent from her face returned to it, too as she heard further remarks outside—a q'li'et "Thank you," then a genial remark about he weather. Still Sylvia sat with head erect, apparently thinking. For two or three minutes he weather. Still Sylvia sat with head erect, apparently thinking. For two or three minutes the sat thus, the colour coming and going in her j I cheeks. Then she suddenly seemed to mafee up her mind. She felt if her hat were straight. Then she coughed. At 44ae sound of that cough- rather a prolonged one-the little gentleman outside started. Then he put down his glass, pushed open the door of the barroom, and con- fronted Sylvia with a at?.-tl-d face. "Miss Bruce?" he exclaimea, in evident astonishment. Sylvia smiled. "How astonished you look, M. Cripps," she said, in as ordinary a voice as a girl who was a mass of aches and bruises could assume. "I—I have been bicycling and-er-have got lost." There was more truth in the last remark than Sylvia knew. Mr. Cripps advanced further into the room, still very much surprised and con- cerned apparently. "And you are all alone-at dark?" he asked. "Emily was with me," said Sylvia, hastily, "but I believe I've lost her! Oh. please don't look so shocked! I really couldn't help it!- and I believe I asked for Jome tea, but it hasn't come." Mr. Cripps disappeared at once to in- quire after the tea. Then he returned. It appenred that lie had called at this place partly on business—knives and scissors with his name on again, no doubt; but what a trifle that appeared at present. He sat down a little nearer to Sylvia now. and when her tea appeared she persuaded him to join. Indeed, they became quite friendly over it. But then they always had been moderately friendly. And Sylvia was so bewilderingly pleasant to Mr. Cripps during tea, that it was no great wonder if he sat a little nearer still to her on the settee after tea. For- tunately he did so, but Sylvia did not quite know yet how to bring the conversation into exactly the channel that she wished until pre- sently an idea occurred to her, and she said, softly: "011, Mr. Cripps, I have been wanting for ever so long to apologise to you for being so rude at the tennis ball." "Rude to me ? exclaimed Mr. Cripps. amazed again. "Yes, at the tennis bali, you know," repeated Sylvia. "But I was not at the tennis ball," said Mr. Cripps. "Ah, it was the hunt ball, then!" "I was at the hunt ball, but—I don" remem- ber your being rude to me, Miss Bruce. unless Neither did Sylvia; but the conversation was going more as she desired now. Mr. Cripps had come nearer still. You seem to have been different to me since then," she murmured. Then Mr. Cripps drew nearer still. But there still seemed to be a moment of indecision, of want of perfect understanding. And then Sylvia raised a pair of brilliant, feverish, audacious eyes to the young man's, and somehow, that seemed to finish it off. Mr. Cripps came nearer still; next instant he was saying something incoherent about the hunt ball, and wishing he had some- thing to forgive, and then Sylvia's head was on his si oulder; and then it was all finished. Five minutes or so after that. a new Mrival appeared at the inn door. This was a weary, forlorn-looking girl, with a fancy trellis-work pattern on her nose, and pushing a bicycle before her She pushed her machine into the sanded pas- sage, and then, giving some order at the bar, she also, as luck would have it, turned aside into the quiet bar parlour. There she was met by the sight of two people who made her exclaim; and after Sylvia had risen with as much alacrity and grace as her aching limbs would allow, and pushed Emily into a chair, and after a few more exclamations and explana- tions had ensue 1, Sylvia said to Mr. Crippst "Shall I tell?" "If you don't, I will," said that gentleman radiantly. So Sylvia told; and when the recital was over Emily rose-stiffly-and, forgetting congratu- lations, apparently, she went out of the room to countermand an order about her bicycle. Sylvia followed, and linking her arm within her friend's in the little sanded passage, she said: "Emily, I wish never, never, to hear the name of Captain Holt again. I have been doing the best I could during the last half-hour to provide for my never hearing his name again." Emily raised a pair of haggard eye& to her friend's face. "Neither do I," she said, with emphasis. However, Emily changed her mind. Sylvia did not; and Mrs. Cripps and Mrs. Captain Holt are still the best of friends. ETVX END.]

Crimean Veterans Associations. CONCERTS ATTENDED BY THE RHONDDA FAOH MALE VOICE CHOIR. At the annual concerts held on Sunday at the People's Palace, Bristol, in aid of the Crimean and Indian Mutiny veterans, the Rhondda Fach Male Voice Choir, Ynyshir (all prize soloists), were present and gave a number of vocal con- tnvbutions, under the able conductorship of their leader, Mr Joseph Jenkins. The mem- bers of the choir on hearing that the old veter- ans' funds were greatly diminished, and that their institution would shortly be closed up for want of money, gave their services gratis and paid their own expenses as a small recognition of the great obligation they were under, espe- cially to Bristolians, for the help the Welsh miners received from that city during the dis- pute in the coal trade last year. Previous to the concert the old men paraded in the Hay- market at 2.30, a<nd were loudly applauded on entering the hall by a Iartfe audience. The following items, contributed by the choir and various members were much admired, and were received with rounds of applause. Afternoon concert: Solo, "The Star of Bethlehem,' 'Mr W. Bowen, of Tonypandy; Chorus. "The Destruc- tion of Gaza," choir; solo, "The banner of love," Mr Ben Lewis (Llew Porth), Porth; solo, "The Village Blacksmith,' Mr Ellis Mor- gan, Ynyshir; song, "The Heavenly Song," Miss S. J. Phillips, Tylorstown; solo, "Honour and Arms," Mr B. J. Rees, Ynyshir; part-song, "Hues of Day," the choir. Baritone solo by Mr William Davies, Ynyshir; solo, "It is enough," Mr W. Davies, Ynyshir; chorus, "Valiant Warriors," (from "David and Goliath), Philistines putting their ranks in order, thesj choir; duet, "The Martial Spirit," ^Messrs Dd.| Thomas and William Lewis, Ferndale; song, "Lead Kindly Light (D. Pugh Evans), Mr Ieuan Griffiths, Ynyshir; chorus, "The Martyrs of the Arena" (De Rille), the choir, the quartette by the Royal singers, Messrs Lewis, Davies, Griths, and Rees; solo, "The vision of the Cross," Mr William Lewis; part song, "In the Sweet" (Prothero), the choir. Evening Concert:—Solo, "The Sailor's Grave" (Sullivan), Mr William Bowen, Tonypandy; chorus, "Valliant Warriors,' the choir; song, "The Beggar Girl," Miss S. J. Phillips, Tylors- Ir town; solo, "The Heavenly Song," (Hamilton Gray), Mr Ben Lewis (Llew Porth), Porth; part-song, "Hues of Day)) Jules Berleur), the choir, the solo being sung by Mr Wm. Davies, Ynyshir; solo, "The Noble Boy cu Truth" (Dr Parry), Mr Ieuan Griffiths, Ynyshir; song, "Alone in the desert" (Lewis Emmuel), Mr E. J. Rees, Ynyshir; chorus, "The Destruction of Gaza" (Laurunt De Rille), the choir; song, 'Guiding Light" (John Henry), Mr W. Davies, Ynyshir; chorus, "The Martyrs of the Arena" (De Rille), the choir; duet, "Where rolls the Caferi" (R. S. Hughes), Messrs Dd. Thomas and William Lewis, Ferndale; part-song, "In the Sweet" (Prothero), the choir.

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Our Local Pulpit aqd Arbitration. CHRIST'S RULR FOR SETTLING DISPUTES. In last week's "Pontypridd and Rhondda Chronicle" appeared the following interesting sketch of a sermon preached at the English Congregational ChapeH, Gelliwastad Road, Pontypridd, by the pastor, the Rev W. G. Jenkins, B.A. — Luke xii, 13, 14, 15. Arbitration is one of the magic words of the days we live in. If there is any remedy foi- the social disorders which seem continual- ly to occur between capital and labour, for the national disputes which seem ever to arise between peoples and nations, for all petty quarrels and feuds which seem constantly cropping up between man and his neighbours —then it is to be found we are to. in the introduction of an unbiassed laird party, who is to act as go-betiveen, and who is to weigh dispassionately the claims and counter claims of each side, and give judgment to be acquiesced in. by both. And of all the actions whereby our century will be reckoned a glor- ious one in the eyes of the ages yet to come there is nothing surely that will redound more to its lasting credit than the successful issues which resulted from the introduction this new method of solving individual, social, and national problems, and I can con- ceive of no fitter method by which we could have celebrated the BOt- birthday of our dearly loved and honoured Queen, than by our joining heart and soul as a nation in our prayers and wishes in supporting the great Pdace Conference at the Hague, which I be- lieve in spite of all carping critics and skilful interpreters of motives, is going to prove one of the greatest contributions which Russia has ever made to the history of the world. Yes, Blessed are the arbitrators2 for they shall be called the sons of God. Blessed are they who follow in the footsteps of Him styled Prince of Peace! And yet, here in the text we have a dis- tinct instance in which our Saviour who came to heal all the diseases and sores of society, resolutely refused to arbitrate in a claim which to us certainly presents felatures in which the introduction of a third party might possibly Jjave succeeded in removing fraternal injustice and wrong. Here is one who has come to earth to enumerate the prin- ciples and laws of the Kingdom of God- instice, fairness, equality--apperently refus- ing point blank to champion the oppressed, and to arbitrate between rival factions. How are you going to explain the apparent difficulty? Let us for a moment endeavour to look at the facts of the case in point. can well imagine that the miserly plaintiff hbppened to be the younger son in a family of two, who on account of his not being the elder considered it highly unfair that through an accident of birth he should be deprived of the privileges possessed by his brother. What the precise circumstances of the case were we can only surmise. Possibly it was a case which we describe in homely langigge as six of one and half & dozen of the other At any rate we may note incidentally tlj, Christ's method in a family squabble is to endeavour to get both parties back o first principles. No doubt the younger son (you see the younger brother is here posvm^d of the spirit of the elder brother in the parat ie of the prodigal son), Had listened to the grew preacher of righteousness proclaiming thte principles of equality and justice which at the basis of all society, and as he listened thought struck him, If I can only tl is strange prophet to obtain redress for me, how very fortunate I shall be, for in the eyes of the people he possesses all the -authority of a lawyer, with one very important o it- eration for me—he doesn't exact a lawyer's fee. It is a much simpler way of coming to a right settlement than if I were fco tako my case to the interminable Jewish laT-(uxi-fz, and very much cheaper, too. Most pre bab\y the Jewish Rabbi will hearken to my uit for nothing, er at any rate for next to r :fch'ti,r, but if only I call in the ponderous legal mach- inery of the country, there is no knowing where it will end-most likely in the bark jruptcy court." But when he came to our Saviour he found he was in the presence of one who went deep down to the springs and imotives of his whole action. Instead of sup- porting his claims, or, indeed, reporting them as unjust, he found that Christ went to the very root of the matter. Take heed, and be- ware of covetousness! As though he said 1 guilt of a false social state can only be recti- fied by cutting away false social notions. Most assuredly Christianity proclaims llaws I and principles which will eventually give ev- ery man his right, but this is what I think the incident teaches us! It teaches us that Christ deals with men and not with cases; with principles, and not with casuistry; with eternal truth, and not with temporary phases. Our Sa.viour knew that He came to earth with the greatest of all purposes, with phases. Our Saviour knew that He came to the grandest of all undertakings, that of sav ,ing the world, not saving any particulhr nation, but all nations; not saving any par- ticular century, but all centuries; not saving any particular section of society, but. all sec tions. Therefore, it was not his office to in terfere in particular civil cases, but it was his office to lay down principles which would solve all such for all time, in all nations. amongst all conditions of men. It was for Itb3 brothers themselves to determine, once they had the principle before them, and in this power of determining lay their responsi- bility. And-for this reason Christianity can never become out of date—it can never be left behind, for its principles are all eternal principles. Take for a moment the question of capital and labour. The Bible is appealed to by both parties, as if on the one hand it were the great arbiter which determines that the poor slfall be meek and submissive, and on the other hand as if it were the referee whose peculiar Blessedness consists in the woes it attaches to the rich and the demands it makes upon them. In either case Christ is misunderstood and his sysfcriT misconstrued, Christ is not a party man, and his Book is not a special pleader, for our Saviour pro- claims a real, deep, true brotherhood, which !is not onesided. It demands that the rich shall treat the poor as brothers, but the ob- ligation is mutual, the rich is the poor man's shall treat the poor as brothers, but the ob- ligation is mutual, the rich is the poor man's 11 htGtheor too. Christ refuses t" oe the friend of one because he is the friej. of both. He is not the cha mpion of n ola1-, rv cause he is the champion humanity. \V;I I truly go to the Christ I hesr justice dod and so vindicated, that it is impossible for me to jbe unjust whether I am mon or master. We 'are waiting in these days for some man to j write a large book that will philosophically I í adjust and determine everyth;n £ Friends, that Man has come, and .¡,J,8 name is Gh Jesus. Here is the Prince of Peace, the Re- conciler of Nations. The coming of Christ is an event standing entirely apart in the whole history of the race. Its influence was to be worfd-wide, because it concerned itself not with men's affairs as such, but with men as beings owning allegiance to God, and holding relations one with ano- ther. If Christ had made a partition in the I inheritance of this Jew, his decision might conceivably not hold good in the law court# of Rome, England, China, or Ireland, but when he says, "Take heed, and beware of when he says, "Take heed, and beware of oovetousness," he lays his linger upon the I very cause of all disputes and actions in every age and country. Social reconstruction is possible only on the grounds Christ lays down, viz., Spiritual Redemption. Make Tii;in right in his relations to God., and he will act rightly in his relations to man. Similar- ly there can be no lasting and permanent im- provement in a nation's life, unless it be founded upon a corresponding improvement in nationkl character. Right division of pro- perty will accompany right disposition of heart. Salvation must precede sanitation, and the best charter springs from the best character. Create boards of conciliation to settle trade disputes by all mefens; establish;i Peace Conferences, and God speed to them, but both masters and men must be born I again, otheirwse mutual forbearance, and generosity will be impossible. And a man conciliated against his will is of the sfeme op- inion still. Christ laid down no sliding scale of wages, but lie has laid down the great social law, "Masters give unto your servants that which is just and equal." And in re-. ply to this; worldly plaintiff, Christ did not; give us his views upon the Band question, but ¡ he laid down principles by which alone all' land questions can be ultimately settled. Not one word did our Saviour utter against the powers that be, unless they be of Gou i What constitutes a Statez Not high raised battlements and laboured mound, Thick wall or moated gate, Not cities proud, with spires t.-d turrets crowned, Not bays and broad-armed ports, I Where laughing at the storm rich navies ride Not starred and spangled courts, Where low brow'd baseness wafts perfume to pride. To men, high-minded men. And Christ's chief concern is the .a.atcn and ennoblement of man: I "Thou Son of Man, do thou make ii. too, son of men. Do Thou strike at the very root of our baseness, tell us wherein we &r-, and impart to us strength and purity and divinity, which Thou alone canst give. We in vite local ministers of all denomina- tions to co-operate with us by sending sketch- es of sermons for publication in this column

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1 1 — REVIEW. "ETERNAL PUNISHMENT IN ANOTHER I LIGHT," by Caractua. The above work has been sent to Us for re- view. We are asked to do it at once I But as we have not yet had sufficient. time to study the book we cannot profess to write a proper review to-day. The subject treated is of such importance, in view of th-- erroneous teaching of the present day, ttat this book is well worthy, not merely of a hastly perusal, but of the deepest study. There is something original in the main idea of the author, thiat the narrative of the suff- erings of Christ throws some light upon the eternal punishment of the ungodly in tlo future world. As the sufferings of Christ consisted in his being forsaken of this also is the merited punishment of ttin ungod- ly in the world to come. In his treatment of the subject the author makes the following divisions. Chapter I. Punishment, as it was suffered by Christ. Chapter 11. rJ he internal element of the punishment of the wicked. Chapter III. The external element in the punishment of the ungodly; Chapter IV. 'Is it probable thiat the punishment of the wicked is eternal? This question is an- swered in the affirmative. And the author supports his statements by the teaching of the Bible and fair deductions from the hvp othesis laid down in the former chapters. The truths of the Word of God must be laid a.side if the doctrine o! universal resto-»t>m is to be embraced. The author very satis- factorily eposes the invidious quibbling about the meaning of certain words used in Scriptures to describe the condition and pun- ishment of the ungodly in the world to come, and explains that the eternal existence of sin in the sinner must perpetuate the punish- ment arising out of the existing evil. The other thought suggested, viz., tlat if there was any possibility to restore the will fnm what the Bible calls hell, it was. njust deliver the Only Begotten Son of Tod to the sufferings he endured in this world The "everlastlngness" of the punislim it is -,Iso argued from the nature of the puni^hn^ ot —From the mature of salvatio —From the advocacy of Christ, and rom the nature of salvation. After illustrating these thoughts, the author says, ''Let us toh trust our souls to the doctrines of the semi- atheistic theologians of the present o'ay; but nather let us 'take hold of eternal life, while we are certain that it is within our reach There are, however, some tatements here which we think require reconsideration. Is it right to call the sufferings of Christ, pun- ishment? The Bible does not describe ifc as such. We feel inclined to object to another statement in the book, viz., "that Chrut suf- fered whfat the sinner himself diserved.' The author himself seems to feel the Iiffi.,i-ty here when he says that Christ suffered ii an outward sense what the sinner deserved. This does not remove tue difficulty. We tfo not see the identity Or even similarity of the Saviour's atoning suffering and the sinne?s punishment in hell. This book, notwithstanding our objacf'.mr^ is well worth a careful study.

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