man who conveyed me from Kilbogie yesterday, and with whom I had very pleasant fellowship concerning the patience of the saints.

"It becometh not any human being to judge his neighbor, but it seemed to me from many signs that he was within the election of God, and even as we spoke of Polycarp and the martyrs who have overcome by the blood of the Lamb, it came unto me with much power, 'Lo, here is one beside you whose name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life, and who shall enter through the gates into the city;' and grace was given me to rejoice in his joy, but I "-and Carmichael could have wept for the despair in the Rabbi's voice.

"Dear Rabbi!"-for once the confidence of youth was smitten at the sight of a spiritual conflict beyond its depth "you are surely depreciating yourself. Burn

brae is a good man, but compared with you is not this like to the depression of Elijah?" Carmichael knew, however, he was not fit for such work, and had better have held his peace.

"It may be that I understand the letter of Holy Scripture better than some of God's children, although I be but a babe even in this poor knowledge, but such gifts are only as the small dust of the balance. He will have mercy on whom He will have mercy.

"John," said the Rabbi suddenly, and with strong feeling, "was it your thought this night, as I declared the sovereignty of God, that I judged myself of the elect, and was speaking as one himself hidden forever in the secret place of God?"

"I . . . did not know," stammered Carmichael, whose utter horror at the unrelenting sermon had been tempered only by his love for the preacher.

"You did me wrong, John, for then had I not dared to speak at all after that fashion; it is not for a vessel of mercy filled unto overflowing with the love of God to exalt himself above the vessels. for whom there is no mercy. But he may plead with them who are in like case with himself to .. acknowledge the Divine Justice."

Then the pathos of the situation overcame Carmichael, and he went over to the bookcase and leaned his head against certain volumes, because they were weighty and would not yield. Next day he noticed that one of them was a Latin Calvin that had traveled over Europe in learned company, and the other a battered copy of Jonathan Edwards that had come from the house of an Ayrshire farmer.

Forgive me that I have troubled you with the concerns of my soul, John "-the Rabbi could stand only with an effort "they ought to be between a man and his God. There is another work laid to my hand for which there is no power in me now. During the night I shall ask whether the cup may not pass from me, but if not, the will of God be done."

Carmichael slept but little, and every time he woke the thought was heavy upon him that on the other side of a narrow wall the holiest man he knew was wrestling in darkness of soul, and that he had added to the bitterness of the -agony.

CHAPTER XX.-THE WOUNDS OF A FRIEND

Winter has certain mornings which redeem weeks of misconduct, when the hoar-frost during the night has resilvered every branch and braced the snow upon the ground, and the sun rises in ruddy strength and drives out of sight every cloud and mist, and moves all day through an expanse of unbroken blue, and is reflected from the dazzling whiteness of the earth as from a mirror. Such a sight calls a man from sleep with authority, and makes his blood tingle, and puts new heart in him, and banishes the troubles of the night. Other mornings winter joins in the conspiracy of principalities and powers to daunt and crush the human soul. No sun is to be seen, and the gray atmosphere casts down the heart, the wind moans and whistles in fitful gusts, the black clouds hang low in threatening masses, now and again a flake of snow drifts in the wind. A storm is near at hand-not the thunder-shower of summer, with warm rain and the kindly sun in ambush, but dark and blinding

snow, through which even a gamekeeper cannot see six yards, and in which weary travelers lie down to rest and die.

The melancholy of this kind of day had fallen on Saunderson, whose face was ashen, and who held Carmichael's hand with such anxious affection that it was impossible to inquire how he had slept, and would have been a banality to remark upon the weather. After the Rabbi had been compelled to swallow a cup of milk by way of breakfast, it was evident that he was ready for speech.

"What is it, Rabbi?" as soon as they were again settled in the study. "If you did not . . . like my sermon, tell me at once. You know that I am one of your boys, and you ought to . . . help me." Perhaps it was inseparable from his youth, with its buoyancy and self-satisfaction, and his training in a college whose members knew only by rumor of the existence of other places of theological learning, that Carmichael had a distinct sense of humility and charity, Had it been a matter of scholastic lore, of course neither he nor more than six men in Scotland could have met the Rabbi in the gate. With regard to modern thought, Carmichael knew that the good Rabbi had not read "Ecce Homo," and was hardly-well, . . . up to date. He would not for the world hint such a thing to the dear old man, or even argue with him; but it was flattering to remember that the attack could be merely one of blunderbusses, in which the modern thinker would at last intervene and save the ancient scholar from humiliation.

"Well, Rabbi?" and Carmichael tried to make it easy. "Before I say what is on my heart, John, you will grant an old man who loves you one favor. So far as in you lies you will bear with me if that which I say, and still more that which my conscience will compel me to do, is hard to flesh and blood."

"Didn't we settle that last night in the vestry?" and Carmichael was impatient; "is it that you do not agree with the doctrine of the Divine Fatherhood? We younger men are resolved to base Christian doctrine on the actual Scriptures, and to ignore mere tradition.'

"An excellent rule, my dear friend," cried the Rabbi, wonderfully quickened by the challenge, "and with your permission and for our mutual edification we shall briefly review all passages bearing on the subject in hand-using the original, as will doubtless be your wish, and you correcting my poor recollection."

About an hour afterwards, and when the Rabbi was only entering into the heart of the matter, Carmichael made the bitter discovery-without the Rabbi having even hinted at such a thing-that his pet sermon was a mass of boyish crudities, and this reverse of circumstances was some excuse for his pettishness.

"It does not seem to me that it is worth our time to haggle about the usage of Greek words or to count texts: I ground my position on the general meaning of the Gospels and the sense of things," and Carmichael stood on the hearth-rug in a very superior attitude.

"Let that pass, then, John, and forgive me if I appeared to battle about words, as certain scholars of the olden time were fain to do; for in truth it is rather about the hard duty before me than any imperfection in your teaching I would speak," and the Rabbi glanced nervously at the young minister.

"We are both Presbyters of Christ's Church, ordained after the order of primitive times, and there is laid on us certain heavy charges and responsibilities from which we may not shrink, as we shall answer to the Lord at the great day."

Carmichael's humiliation was lost in perplexity, and he sat down, wondering what the Rabbi intended.

"If any Presbyter should see his brother fall into one of those faults of private life that do beset us all in our present weakness, then he doth well and kindly to point it out unto his brother; and if his brother should depart from the faith as they talk together by the way, then it is a Presbyter's part to convince him of his error and restore him." The Rabbi cast an imploring glance, but Carmichael had still no understanding.

"But if one Presbyter should teach heresy to his flock

in the hearing of another. even though it break the other's heart, is not the path of duty fenced up on either side, verily a strait, narrow way, and hard for the feet to tread ?"

"You have spoken to me, Rabbi, and... cleared yourself "Carmichael was still somewhat sore— " and I'll promise not to offend you again in an action sermon.'

"Albeit you intend it not so, yet are you making it harder for me to speak. . . See you not . . that I. T. that necessity is laid on me to declare this matter to my brother Presbyters in court assembled. . . but not in hearing of the people?" Then there was a stillness in the room, and the Rabbi, although he had closed his eyes, was conscious of the amazement on the young man's face.

"Do you mean to say," speaking very slowly, as one taken utterly aback, "that our Rabbi would come to my .. to the Sacrament and hear me preach, and . report me for heresy to the Presbytery? Rabbi, I know we don't agree about some things, and perhaps I was a little. . . annoyed a few minutes ago because you know far more than I do, but that is nothing. For you to prosecute one of your boys and be the witness yourself, Rabbi, you can't mean it; . . . say it's a mistake." The old man only gave a deep sigh.

"If it were Dowbiggin or any man except you, I wouldn't care one straw, rather enjoy the debate, but you whom we have loved and looked up to and boasted about, why, it's like . . . a father turning against his sons."

The Rabbi made no sign.

"You live too much alone, Rabbi," and Carmichael began again as the sense of the tragedy grew on him, "and nurse your conscience till it gets over-tender; no other man would dream of . . prosecuting a . . . fellow-minister in such circumstances. You have spoken to me like a father, surely that is enough," and in his honest heat the young fellow knelt down by the Rabbi's chair and took his hand.

A tear rolled down the Rabbi's cheek, and he looked fondly at the lad.

"Your words pierce me as sharp swords, John; spare me, for I can do none otherwise; all night I wrestled for release, but in vain."

Carmichael had a sudden revulsion of feeling, such as befalls emotional and ill-disciplined natures when they are disappointed and mortified.

"Very good, Doctor Saunderson"-Carmichael rose awkwardly and stood on the hearth-rug again, an elbow on the mantelpiece-" you must do as you please and think right. I am sorry that I pressed you so far, but it was on grounds of our friendship.

Perhaps you will tell me as soon as you can what you propose to do, and when you will bring. this matter before the Presbytery. My sermon was fully written, and is at your disposal."

While this cold rain beat on the Rabbi's head he moved not, but at its close he looked at Carmichael with the appeal of a dumb animal in his eyes.

"The first meeting of Presbytery is on Monday, but you would no doubt consider that too soon; is there anything about dates in the order of procedure for heresy?" and Carmichael made as though he would go over to the shelves for a law book.

John," cried the Rabbi-his voice full of tears-rising and following the foolish lad, "is this all you have in your heart to say unto me? Surely, as I stand before you, it is not my desire to do this thing, for I would rather cut off my right hand.

"God hath not been pleased to give me many friends, and He only knows how you and the others have comforted my heart. I lie not, John, but speak the truth, that there is nothing, unto life itself, I would not give for your good, who have been as the apple of my eye unto me."

Carmichael hardened himself, torn between a savage sense of satisfaction that the Rabbi was suffering for his foolishness and an inclination of his better self to respond to the old man's love.

"If there be a breach between us, it will not be for you as it must be for me. You have many friends, and may

God add unto them good men and faithful; but I shall lose my one earthly joy and consolation when your feet are no longer heard on my threshold and your face no longer brings light to my room. And, John, even this thing which I am constrained to do is yet of love, as you shall confess one day."

"That is Burnbrae's dog-cart

Carmichael's pride alone resisted, and it was melting fast. Had he even looked at the dear face, he must have given way, but he kept his shoulder to the Rabbi, and at that moment the sound of wheels passing the corner of the manse gave him an ungracious way of escape. Doctor Saunderson, and I think he will not wish to keep his horse standing in the snow, so unless you will stay all night, as it's going to drift . . . Then perhaps it would be better . . . Can I assist you in packing?" in packing?" How formal it all sounded, and he allowed the Rabbi to go upstairs alone, with the result that various things of the old man's are in Carmichael's house unto this day.

Another chance was given the lad when the Rabbi would have bidden him good-by at the door, beseeching that he should not come out into the drift, and still another when Burnbrae, being concerned about his passenger's appearance, who seemed ill fitted to face a storm, wrapped him in a plaid; and he had one more when the old man leant out of the dog-cart and took Carmichael's hand in both of his, but only said, "God bless you for all you've been to me, and forgive me for all wherein I have failed you." And they did not meet again till that never-to-be-forgotten sederunt of the Free Kirk Presbytery of Muirtown, when the minister of Kilbogie accused the minister of Drumtochty of teaching the Linlathen heresy of the Fatherhood of God in a sermon before the Sacrament.

Among all the institutions of the North a Presbytery is the most characteristic, and affords a standing illustration of the contradictions of a superbly logical people. It is so anti-clerical a court that for every clergyman there must also be a layman-country ministers promising to bring in their elder for great occasions, and instructing him audibly how to vote and so fiercely clerical that if the most pious and intelligent elder dared to administer a sacrament he would be at once tried and censured for sacrilege. So careful is a Presbytery to prevent the beginnings of Papacy that it insists upon each of its members occupying the chair in turn, and dismisses him again into private life as soon as he has mastered his duties; but so imbued is it with the idea of authority that whatever decision may be given by some lad of twenty-five in the chair-duly instructed, however, by the clerk below-will be rigidly obeyed. When a Presbytery has nothing else to do, it dearly loves to pass a general condemnation on sacerdotalism, in which the tyranny of prelates and the foolishness of vestments will be fully exposed; but a Presbytery wields a power at which a bishop's hair would stand on end, and Doctor Dowbiggin once made Carmichael leave the Communion Table and go into the vestry to put on his bands.

When a Presbytery is in its lighter moods, it gives itself to points of order with a skill and relish beyond the Southern imagination. It did not matter how harmless, even infantile, might be the proposal placed before the court by such a man as MacWheep of Pitscourie, he would hardly have got past an apology for his presumption in venturing to speak at all, before a member of Presbyterywho had reduced his congregation to an irreducible minimum by the woodenness of his preaching-would inquire whether the speech of "our esteemed brother was not ultra vires," or something else as awful. MacWheep would at once sit down with the air of one taken red-handed in crime, and the court would debate the point till every authority had taken his fill, when the clerk would submit to the moderator, with a fine blend of deference and infallibility, that Mr. MacWheep was perfectly within his rights; and then, as that estimable person had lost any thread he ever possessed, the Presbytery would pass to the next business-with the high spirit of men returning from a holiday. Carmichael used, indeed, to relate how in a great stress of business some one moved that the Presbytery should adjourn for dinner, and the court argued for seventy minutes,

with many precedents, whether such a motion-touching as it did the standing orders-could even be discussed, and, with an unnecessary prodigality of testimony, he used to give perorations which improved with every telling.

The love of law diffused through the Presbytery became incarnate in the clerk, who was one of the most finished specimens of his class in the Scottish Kirk. His sedate appearance, bald, polished head, fringed with pure white hair, shrewd face, with neatly cut side whiskers, his suggestion of unerring accuracy and inexhaustible memory, his attitude for exposition-holding his glasses in his left hand and enforcing his decision with the little finger of the right hand carried conviction even to the most disorderly. Ecclesiastical radicals, boiling over with new schemes and boasting to admiring circles of MacWheeps that they would not be browbeaten by red-tape officials, would become ungrammatical before that firm gaze, and end in abject surrender. Self-contained and self-sufficing, the clerk took no part in debate, save at the critical moment to lay down the law, but wrote his minutes unmoved through torrents of speech on every subject, from the Sustentation Fund to the Union between England and Scotland, and even under the picturesque eloquence of foreign deputies, whom he invariably requested to write their names on a sheet of paper.

On two occasions only he ceased from writing when Dr. Dowbiggin discussed a method of procedure-then he watched him over his spectacles in hope of a nice point; or when some enthusiastic brother would urge the Presbytery to issue an injunction on the sin of Sabbath walking-then the clerk would abandon his pen in visible despair, and, sitting sideways on his chair and supporting his head by that same little finger, would face the Presbytery with an expression of reverent curiosity on his face why the Creator was pleased to create such a man. His preaching was distinguished for orderliness, and was much sought after for Fast days. It turned largely on the use of prepositions and the scope of conjunctions, so that the clerk could prove the doctrine of Vicarious Sacrifice from "instead," and Retribution from "as" in the Lord's Prayer, emphasizing and confirming everything by that wonderful finger, which seemed to be designed by Providence for delicate distinctions, just as another man's fist served for popular declamation. pulpit masterpiece was a lecture on the Council of Jerusalem, in which its whole proceedings were reviewed by the rules of the Free Kirk Book of Order, and a searching and edifying discourse concluded with two lessons. First: That no ecclesiastical body can conduct its proceedings without officials. Second: That such men ought to be accepted as a special gift of Providence.

His

The general opinion among good people was that the clerk's preaching was rather for upbuilding than arousing, but it is still remembered by the survivors of the old Presbytery that when MacWheep organized a conference on "The state of religion in our congregations," and it was meandering in strange directions, the clerk, who utilized. such seasons for the writing of letters, rose amid a keen revival of interest-it was supposed that he detected an irregularity in the proceedings-and offered his contribution.

"It did not become him to boast," he said, "but he had seen marvelous things in his day: under his unworthy ministry three church officers had been converted to Christianity," and this experience was so final that the conference immediately closed.

Times there were, however, when the Presbytery rose to its height and was invested with an undeniable spiritual dignity. Its members, taken one by one, consisted of farmers, shepherds, tradesmen, and one or two professional men, with some twenty ministers, only two or three of whom were known beyond their parishes. Yet those men had no doubt that as soon as they were constituted in the name of Christ, they held their authority from the Son of God and Saviour of the world, and they bore themselves in spiritual matters as his servants. No kindly feeling of neighborliness or any fear of man could hinder them from inquiring into the religious condition of a parish or dealing faithfully with an erring minister. They had power to ordain, and laid hands on the bent head of some young

probationer with much solemnity; they had also power to take away the orders they had given, and he had been hardened indeed beyond hope who could be present and not tremble when the Moderator, standing in his place, with the Presbytery around, and speaking in the name of the Head of the Church, deposed an unworthy brother from the holy ministry. Mac Wheep was a "cratur," and much given to twaddle, but when it was his duty once to rebuke a fellow-minister for quarreling with his people, he was delivered from himself, and spake with such grave wisdom as he has never shown before or since.

When the Presbytery assembled to receive a statement. from Doctor Saunderson " re error in doctrine by a brother Presbyter," even a stranger might have noticed that its members were weighted with a sense of responsibility, and although a discussion arose on the attempt of a desultory member to introduce a deputy charged with the subject of the lost ten tribes, yet it was promptly squelched by the clerk, who intimated, with much gravity, that the court had met in hunc effectum, viz., to hear Doctor Saunderson, and that the court could not, in consistence with law, take up any other business, not even-here Carmichael professed to detect a flicker of the clerkly eyelids-the disappearance of the ten tribes.

It was the last time that the Rabbi ever spoke in public, and it is now agreed that the deliverance was a fit memorial of the most learned scholar that has ever been known in those parts. He began by showing that Christian doctrine has taken various shapes, some more and some less in accordance with the depos of truth given by Christ and the holy Apostles, and especially that the doctrine of Grace had been differently conceived by two eminent theologians, Calvin and Arminius, and his exposition was so lucid that the clerk gave it as his opinion that the two systems were understood by certain members of the court for the first time that day. Afterwards the Rabbi vindicated and glorified Calvinism from the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, from the Fathers, from the Reformation Divines, from the later creeds, till the brain of the Presbytery reeled through the wealth of allusion and quotation,. all in the tongues of the learned. Then he dealt with the theology of Mr. Erskine of Linlathen, and showed how it was undermining the very foundations of Calvinism; yet the Rabbi spake so tenderly of our Scottish Maurice that the Presbytery knew not whether it ought to condemn Erskine as a heretic or love him as a saint. Having thus brought the court face to face with the issues involved, the Rabbi gave a sketch of a certain sermon he had heard while assisting a learned and much-beloved brother at the Sacrament," and Carmichael was amazed at the transfiguration of his very youthful performance, which now figured as a profound and edifying discourse, for whose excellent qualities the speaker had not adequate words. This fine discourse was, however, to a certain degree marred by an unfortunate, no doubt temporary, leaning to the teaching of Mr. Erskine, whose beautiful piety, which was to himself in his worldliness and unprofitableness a salutary rebuke, had exercised its just fascination upon his much more spiritual brother. Finally the Rabbi left the matter in the hands of the Presbytery, declaring that he had cleared his conscience, and that the minister was onehere he was painfully overcome-dear to him as a son, and to whose many labors and singular graces he could bear full testimony, the Rev. John Carmichael, of Drumtochty. The Presbytery was slow and pedantic, but was not insensible to a spiritual situation, and there was a murmur of sympathy when the Rabbi sat down-much exhausted, and never having allowed himself to look once at Carmichael.

man.

Then arose a self-made man, who considered orthodoxy and capital to be bound up together, and especially identified any departure from sovereignty with that pestilent form of Socialism which demanded equal chances for every He was only a plain layman, he said, and perhaps he ought not to speak in the presence of so many reverend gentlemen, but he was very grateful to Doctor Saunderson for his honorable and straightforward conduct. It would be better for the Church if there were more like him, and he would

just like to ask Mr. Carmichael one or two questions. Did he sign the Confession ?-that was one; and had he kept it? that was two; and the last was, When did he propose to go? He knew something about building contracts, and he had heard of a penalty when a contract was broken. There was just one thing more he would like to say—if there was less loose theology in the pulpit there would be more money in the plate. The shame of the Rabbi during this harangue was pitiable to behold.

Then a stalwart arose on the other side, and a young gentleman who had just escaped from a college debating society wished to know what century we were living in, warned the last speaker that the progress of theological science would not be hindered by mercenary threats, advised Doctor Saunderson to read a certain German called Ritschl—as if he had been speaking to a babe in arms— and was refreshing himself with a Latin quotation, when the Rabbi, in utter absence of mind, corrected a false quantity aloud.

66

Moderator," the old man apologized in much confusion, "I wot not what I did, and I pray my reverend brother, whose interesting address I have interrupted by this unmannerliness, to grant me his pardon, for my tongue simply obeyed my ear." Which untoward incident brought the modern to an end, as by a stroke of ironical fate. It seemed to the clerk that little good to any one concerned was to come out of this debate, and he signaled to Doctor Dowbiggin, with whom he had dined the night before, and concocted a motion over their wine. Whereupon that astute man explained to the court that he did not desire to curtail the valuable discussion, from which he personally had derived much profit, but he had ventured to draw up a motion, simply for the guidance of the House it was said by the Rabbi's boys that the Doctor's success as an ecclesiastic was largely due to the skillful use of such phrases and then he read: "Whereas the Church is set in all her courts for the defense of the truth, whereas it is reported that various erroneous doctrines are being promulgated in books and other public prints, whereas it has been stated that one of the ministers of this Presbytery has used words that might be supposed to give sanction to a certain view which appears to conflict with statements contained in the standards of the Church, the Presbytery of Muirtown declares, first of all, its unshaken adherence to the said standards, secondly deplores the existence in any quarter of notions contradictory or subversive of said standards, thirdly thanks Doctor Saunderson for the vigilance he has shown in the cause of sound doctrine, fourthly calls upon all ministers within the bounds to have a care that they create no offense by their teaching, and finally enjoins all parties concerned to cultivate peace and charity.'

This motion was seconded by the clerk and carried unanimously-Carmichael being compelled to silence by the two wise men for his own sake and theirs and was declared to be a conspicuous victory both by the self-made man and the modern, which was another tribute to the ecclesiastical gifts of Doctor Dowbiggin and the clerk of the Presbytery of Muirtown.

[To be continued in the October Magazine Number of The Outlook]

Perplexing Providences'

By the Rev. John Watson, M.A., D.D.

No one can read the Old Testament without observing that its writers are gravely concerned about the way in which Providence treats the righteous man. They take for granted that he ought to be favored of God, and that the unrighteous man ought to suffer; but it appears as if God shone upon the wicked and frowned on the good. The Psalmist complains bitterly that vile men are exalted. The prophets mention as one of the signs of the golden age that the churl shall no longer be counted bountiful. The Book of Job is a profound discussion of the apparent contradiction of justice, and the writer of Ecclesiastes almost lost hope of a world where the same lot is assigned to 'Copyright, 1896, by John Watson.

saint and sinner. When the righteous are blessed or when the unrighteous are punished, a load is lifted from the conscience and reason of these thinkers, and it appears as if their faith would hardly have any trial were this mystery of government solved. Let every man get his due, then

God's in his heaven,

All's right with the world.

Perhaps the West can hardly appreciate the force of this complaint to the full, because it has not felt its pressure. We have not known what it is to be wronged and robbed, to be cruelly oppressed, and to suffer the last outrage in our homes without protection or redress. While the hope of justice remains, a man can endure; when justice sides with the criminal, the victim's blood turns to gall. The fierce energy of the West has wrought salvation, breaking to pieces the power of the tyrant, compelling equal laws, surrounding justice with a wall of fire, casting an invincible shield over the helpless. Certain passages of the Bible are obsolete for the West, and are to us hardly intelligible. Our fathers knew their meaning. There are Christians in the East to-day that will still read them with passion. These passages are the litany of the poor, of the helpless, of women and children, the appeal of all miserables to a silent God, who will not move, who seems not to care, who has, notwithstanding, been partaker of the human Gethsemane, and himself inspired the passion of this cry.

We of the West have our own quarrel with Providencealthough it be on a minor scale-and it frets our souls at a time and dashes the sweetness of faith. It appears as if, through carelessness or blindness, certain individuals had been confused in the arrangement of affairs, so that A receives the recompense of B, and B is condemned to the lot of A. One man is honorable, high-spirited, religious,. faithful. His word is certain, his friends trust him unto death, his family adore him, the world counts him righteous. Here is one who surely will have riches and power and honor and comfort, who will be crowned with fame before all the people. And instead thereof his whole life is a struggle with poverty, trials, and obscurity. He is not called to dignity, but to pity. Another man is selfish, tricky, merciless, mercenary, whose word goes for nothing, who has done base things, whom no one in private respects. He ought to be an object of contempt-left alone in his place till he repents and does righteousness. Yet because the fellow has plausible manners and a fluent tongue and a cunning intellect, he too often wins his way with the multitude and retains their suffrages and lives at his ease.. As he drives into the city, the mud from this intriguer's carriagewheels defiles the coat of the righteous man. This contrast. may not be common, but it does occur, and it raises questions-about the fairness of Providence.

This immoral situation makes good living harder for us all, and surely any artificial hindrance is scarcely needed.. Many of us are bitterly conscious of the temptation to do less than our best, and require every enforcement of virtue.. Here before our eyes is a parable, teaching us in so many words that integrity and piety are only the high road to failure, and that showy and unscrupulous methods are the passport to success. There are some whom no allurements can seduce from the way of righteousness, and whom the sight of the low estate of goodness will only establish im their integrity. Other some are ready enough to hearken to any voice which declares that the gods do not see behind, but are as easily deceived as foolish people. Is it not dangerous for the individual that the way of unright-eousness be laid out as a primrose path, while the way of honor is narrow and strait?

Is not this confusion of lots also like a misdirection from: the bench and an injustice to society? If there be a sense of the distinction between goodness and badness in the community, does it not require the support and sanctions. of the Eternal? Do we not as nations turn to history to read the downfall of iniquity and the victory of righteousness? Are we not in social life ever on the alert for convincing illustrations of that unseen power which shapes human life according to the law written in our conscience? What a wanton blow to our poor perplexed consciences to

see a despicable person, whose hand we would not take in the way of friendship, selected for a crown, and a saint who has been an inspiration to us in the conflict of the soul allotted a cross! Can our commonwealth be blamed if it follow the lead of Providence and set rascals on high and hold the children of the kingdom in scorn?

So it comes to pass that we begin by being concerned about good men, and end by being concerned about God. Is He also careless whether one choose the higher or lower way, whether he feed or mortify his evil self? Are men and cowards, vain and proud persons, the same to Him as the men of the Beatitudes? This is a very serious question, vital and final. If God be on the right side, then there is not a good man anywhere who will not hold up his head; if God goes over to the enemy, then it seems no use that the rest of us continue the fight-let us fling away our scruples and join in the general scramble. Of course we know what God has said: his words are in the Law of Moses and in the Sermon on the Mount; they are graven on our hearts. We also see what God does, and his deeds and his words do not correspond. This is the problem of Providence, and it is not light. We ought carefully to remember that Providence has not finished its work with those two men and their affairs. It is at the foot of the page the figures are added, and till the columns are filled up no one can say whether the debtor or creditor side has the advantage. Life has many surprises, and some of them are very cheering. Knaves come oftentimes to shame and beggary, much to the relief of society; just men suddenly win their rights, to every one's delight. Wickedness may succeed to-day and to-morrow, and be made a hissing and a reproach the third day. Honor may be set in the pillory and be pelted by the rascal multitude for a day and be clothed in purple and borne to her throne at eve of sun. And if this happy event come not to pass in our time, then the figures will be carried over the page, and the balance will be struck on the other side. Dives and Lazarus in this world may seem an argument against Providence; the argument has to be modified when you meet the two men in the next world. God has

"

an infinite patience, and does not make haste; it will be soon enough to judge his ways when they are complete.

Is it not also our misfortune to be dazzled by the glitter of this world and to identify the rewards of God with material prosperity? If one be rich and increased in goods, if he hold high station in Church or State, then is it not evident that God has blessed him? If one live in a small house and his name be not known two streets away, then surely God has not blessed him. Could any standard be more shallow, deceptive, unbelieving, ungodly? It would seem as if the New Testament had never been written and Jesus had never lived in Nazareth! If the teaching of Jesus goes for anything, worldly success is no sign of divine approval, but is rather a very trying discipline; hardship is no evidence that God is disowning a man, but, maybe, the most convincing gift of his fatherly love. Joseph of Arimathea was no dearer to Christ than St. John, and although Nero lived in a palace and wore the purple, while St. Paul was chained to a soldier and imprisoned in the barracks, the Apostle had not been willing to change places with the Emperor. When God is pleased and wishes to bless the men he loves, his hands have other gifts than silver and gold.

It is more than probable, moreover, that the accounts are being squared here and now, but that our eyes are holden. Is it absolutely certain that our Dives rejoices as one on whom God's face is shining? What of the reprobation of good men, of the gnawing misery of self-contempt, of the conscious impoverishment of the soul, of the haunting dread of the future? Are there none who would give all they have won by years of scheming and self-degradation for a quiet conscience and a good character? Does it go without saying that our Lazarus is miserable because he is not clothed in fine linen and does not dine sumptuously every day? May he not have his own consolations? Surely it is no mean compensation for a severe life and narrow circumstances to be able to look every man in the face, to have the loyal friendship of six honest men, to leave an unstained name as the heritage of his children, to hear God say in the stillness of the soul, "Well done, my son."

T

HE drawing on the opposite page presents an interesting study of two widely differing elements of population. The first may be called the hopeless poor. The second consists largely of diseased and disabled persons receiving aid from public and private benevolence. Exhibit No. 1 (at the right-hand upper corner of the drawing) consists of a pair of measuring-bars, which show that the census report divides the 97,265 paupers into two parts. Almost exactly three-fourths of them were found sheltered in almshouses, while the other one-fourth are those "permanently supported at public expense at their own homes or with private families."

Distribution.-Exhibit No. 2 portrays the geographical distribution of the almshouse poor, and shows (as in the case of insanity, studied in the second paper) that the North Atlantic section has a much larger proportion than any other part of the United States.2

in exhibit No. 3, which shows that a much greater portion of the foreign-born element finds its way into almshouses than of either native-born white or colored persons in the country, as a whole.

The very small circle of the South Central section, and the slightly larger one of the South Atlantic section, are in strong contrast with that of the North Atlantic and Middle States. It appears clear that either the South has fewer poor, or that almshouses are not so abundantly supplied.

Before leaving exhibit No. 3 it is worth while to note that if our population were made up wholly of native-born white persons our proportion of paupers would be only about two-thirds what it is, for the bar portraying nativeborn white is marked 798, while the actual average, including all classes, is 1,166, as recorded on the United States circle just above No. 3. The chief element making up the larger percentage is clearly the excessively large proportion of the foreign-born population, as shown by that bar of No. 3.1

Decrease. That large and growing class of people at the North who are in favor of a very careful public and private expenditure for the support of the poor will be pleased to note the sharp downward pitch of the upper slant line in No. 4. This downward pitch indicates an important decrease in the proportion of paupers in the North Atlantic section between 1880 and 1890. This would seem to

1 It is to be kept in mind that the greater age of the foreign-born population counts against them.