.. 9 ~Sims 111111311011.” 1. Among all who knew him, Silas Marston bore the cha) acter of a stern hard man. But a stranger might have read his nature in his face—in the cold, grey eyes, thin, closely-compressed lips, and severe aspect. In one characteristic he took the greatest pride. Never in his recollec- tion had he willingly broken his word. Perfectly straightforward in all his dealings, scrupulously honest, he had marked out for himself a line of con- duct from which he never diverged, ' and he expected his family to walk” along the same rigid chalk-mark with steps as unfaltering as his own. The severe home discipline galled his only son terribly. When a lad is for- bidden any amusement more exciting than an occasional lecture at the as- sembly-rooms, it would be strange if he did not rebel. Tom Marston re- volted, and the consequences were se- rious. He visited the theatre. Some busy- body saw him and told his father. Sl- las Marston did not'storm desperately angry though he was. That was not his way. “Theatres are catchpits,” he said. “If you go again I will turn you out of doors." Tom knew—none better—that his father would most assuredly do as he said, and for nearly twelve months he avoided the banned building on Bards- .ley Green. But one morning a' comrade 'jeered at him and dared him to go. That night he broke Silas Marston’s law for the second time, and again he was found out. On his return his father met him at the door. “You have been to the theatre,” he said, in the calm, cold, equable voice which he habitually used, whether an- gry or pleased. “What money have you?" In fear and trembling Tom produced his purse and counted its contents with nervous fingers. “Sev-seven—and-sixpence, he faltere‘d. Silas Marston placed two sovereigns in the boy’s shaking hand. “Take these and go,” he said. “I dis- own you.” He opened the door. Next moment the moth-crime boy was in the street— Without a home. I If Silas Mnrston were in any way disturbed by his son’s absence, he gave no outward Sign of it. He went to his business just as regularly as before, and was as constant in his‘ attendance at church. father,” ’11. Seven months had passed. It was the last day of the Leeds Winter As- sizes. Bil-as Marston had been sum- moned on the jury‘. The last case on the calendar was one of forgery. The clerk called out the name of “Joseph Taylor,” and the gaoler brought up the prisoner, a lad of seventeen, poorly clad, and apparently half-starved. He trembled ashestepped to the front of the dock, and his face, as he glanced furtively about, was deathly pale. ' Suddenly as his gaze rested on the jury-box, he staggered, clutched at the dock railings and clung convulsively, ,while his face alternately paied and crimsoned. So he remained, with eyes out down. Had a curious spectator been watch- ingSiias Marston closely he might have seen that jurymain’s cold eyes "di- late, and his mouth part slightly, while an ashen pallor overspread his features. But those signs of agitation , were only momentary. Counsel for the prosecution opened the ca se against the wretched lad. The accused, he said, had been in the em- ployment of Messrs. Clifford and Rice as errand boy; it was also his duty ‘to sweep up the counting-house. A forged cheque for £75, in favor of Mr. Barley, with whom the firm had deal- ings, had been presented at Clifford and Rice’s bankers and cashed. When it was discovered that several forms were missing from a cheque-book, sus- picion fell upon the prisoner, who had accessito the drawer where the book was kept, and had been seen in the company of a. notorious criminal—not in custody. He was accused and searched, when three blank forms, next in sequence to that which had been cashed, were found upon him. The body of the cheque had not been filled up by the accused, nor did he present it, but he was charged with forging. Messrs. Clifford and, Rice’s sig- nature and the endorsement, both of which were excellent imitations and must have been copied from genuine signatures. The boy was asked to plead. He stammered something unintelligible and burst into tears. The gentleman who had been requested by the Court to defend him rose hastily and pleaded “not guilty” on his behalf. Silas Marston frowned. "it’s a waste of time," he mutteredzto his neighbor on the left, the foreman of the jury. “I think it is,” rejoined that gentle- man: “but let the boy have a chance.” . Counsel for the prosecution called witness after witness, whose evidence made it abundantly clear that the ac- cused was guilty, but that he had been the dupe of an older criminal, who had escaped with the plunder. ' Counsel for the defence, finding him- self unable to contest the evidence, ap- pealed to the Court. “I understand,” he said, “that‘the prisoner was sent away from home on- ly'a few months ago to sink or swim. He had disobeyed his father, a man of considerable means, who turned him out of doors. I do not envy that man’s feelings when he learns the consequen- ces of his unnatural conduct, and I it is he who should be standing in the dock and not his son. " Silas Marston cast down his eyes. “The prisoner,” continued the learned gentleman, “when on the brink of star- vation ftii in with a man, whose name has been mentioned, and who may yet have to answer to? his share in this crime. For motives of his own, this man took pity on and fed him. It was he who induCed him to apply to the prosecutors for the situation of er- rand-boy under an alias, and it was in obedience to his command that the ac- cused obtained blank cheques and let- ters bearing the necessary signatures. The prisoner could not refuse; his gratitude forbade. “That the boy' 3 nature is honorable and scrupulous I have proof. His fath- er turned him out of dors to starve, yet I have failed to persuade him to reveal that stony-hearted father’s name or address. He has refused to bring dis- grace upou ”his unnatural parent by re- vealing his own name to his counsel. I have nothing more to add, gentlemen, . except to ask you to take into account all the circumstances of this case. If the-accused’s father—the real criminal —could be called as a witness, it would relieve my feelings to examine him." He sat down. The judge summed up in a sentence, and turned to the jury, as If expecting an immediate ver- dict of “guilty." III. It. was not forthcoming. Whispers passed to and fro in the jury-box. Si- las M'arston took no part in the dis- cussion. on a slip of paper and handed it torthe foreman. It was “guilty.” Having done his duty, he had apparently no further interest in the matter. Well, gentlemen?" excl-aimed the judge, in some surprise. “We can't agree," said the foreman. “Then you had better retire,” was the curt rejoinder. The jury at once flied out of the box and followed an official to the room set apart for them. “Come, Mr. Maydue,” said the fore- man, addressing an elderly gentleman» of benevolent appearance, “you are the only dissentient. We can add a rider recommending the boy to mercy, but on the evidence we must find him guilty." “Certainly.” added Silas Marston, in his most severe tone. “The prisoner has broken the law, and he must suf- fer the penalty. He ought to consider himself fortunate that he is living at the end of the nineteenth century. It is not so long since the penalty of for« gery was death.” Mr. Maydue turned upon him in great indignation. ' “For shame, sir! I thank God that those horrible days are past. And, you, sir, ought to thank your Maker for giv- ing you a different father to the brute who brought this poor boy into the world. I say he ought not to be made responsible, and I refuse to convict him. Gentlemen,” he went on, adress- ing the jury generally, for Silas Mars. ton avoided his gaze, “I ask you to ac- quit the prisoner in mercy to the mis- erable wretch who turned him adrift, for if you do not, nothing will save that man from condemnation when he stands before the Great Judge on the Last Day." Pausing, he laid his hand on Silas Marston’s shoulder, and again addressed him: “Are you a father, sir?” “Yes,” faltered the wretched man. He was not prepared for Mr. Maydue’s sudden attack, and the armor of cold self-righteousness and self-approval in which he had so long incased him- self was anything but proof “I find it hard to believe you, ” Mr. Maydue rejoined. .“But if you really have a child, picture it in the prisoner’s place and let your heart incline to mercy." Silas Marston sat down and covered his face with his hands. He was be- ginning to awake. “Friends,” Mr. Maydue resumed, turning to his fellow-jurymen, “I ask you to find this boy not guilty. Let him have another chance. Be more merciful than his miserable father. Let that wretch answer for his neg, lect and cruelty himself. Don't let us do anything that may constrain us to stand beside him when he is called to account. Temper justice with mercy and let the boy go.” “You plead well, sir,” answered the foreman, ‘but I am of Mr. Marston’s opinion. The boy is guilty, and it is our duty to find him so. Mercy is the judge’s prerogative. The most we can do is to recommend it. Are you ill, sir?" The question was addressed to Silas Marston. He lifted his head; his mouth and eyelids were twitching‘he could not answer. At last he was awake. “Mr. Marston is ill," the foreman went on. “Come! Let us settle this matter and go home. Now. Mr. Maw due. eleven of us are in favor of a con- viction—" ‘No, no!" interrupted Silas Marstonn ingmat agitation. “W hat! Has he won you over? ’ “Yes. God help and forgive me! I am the boy’s father. All Mr. Maydue has said is true. I drove him from home. I failed in my duty. Let him go, I implore you!” The tears were streaming down Silas liarston’s face now. His stubborn will was broken. Mr. Maydue broke the long silence which followed that amazing appeal. “What is the verdict to be?” asked. “Not guilty,” answered the foreman, in a husky voice. Five minutes afterwards Tom Mars- ton was free. The judge discharged him without comment. He had long ceased to be surprised at the vagaries of jurymen. It is almost needless to add that the newly-awakened father he - maintain, gentlemen of the jury, that J ml; his son home. s. He had written his verdict. A FIRE WOMAN. MISS LILLIAN anown “HA3 MAN'.’ ADOPTED FATHERS. 8110 Takes a Deep Interest. in the Flu Companies, and is Ready to Start for 1. Confirmation Immediately After R’- oolvlng the Alarm. The awful forebodings of enemies of the new woman that she would take to fighting fires has come true Here is a firewoman. She is Miss Lil lianBrown, of Greensboro, N. 0. She has been officially adopted by the North Carolina State Firemen’s As- sociation. Her favorite fathers, of which she, as a daughter, has over a thousand, are in Greensboro, here‘ she was first adopted by the Eagle Hose Company, every man of whom is as proud of his adopted daughter as if she were 'a queen. Never a fire oc« curs without the flremen's daughter being on the scene, and to see her, dressed in her red flannel fire clothes, helmeted, and with an. aXe in her dain- ty hands, as she urges the “boys" on to conquer their blazing foe, is a sight to remind one of the heroic acts of Joan of Are. On one occasion she ac tually drove the engine to the scene of the fire, handling the rushing steeds like a veteran driver. There is a curious train of circum- stances leading up to the adoption of Miss Brown by the fire boys. She was born in Fairfield, N. C. Her'first ap: pearance in Greensboro was about three years ago, when she entered the Female College there. It so happened that she was assigned to play the lead ing role in the drama “The Fireman’ 8 Heart," at the college students’ annual performance. The play was produced at Bogart Opera House, and was a tremendous success. As Hyacinth Bradley, the pet and “mascot” of the firemen, Miss Brown literally captured every heart in the audience, and especially those of the fire boys,. Soon after this, at the regular monthly meeting of the Eagle Hose Company, Miss Brown was for- mally adopted as the firemen’s daugh- ter, and her name was placed upon the honorary roll of the company’s mem- bership. The new fire girl gracefully accepted the honor thus conferred upon her, and pledged herself to advance the cause of firemen in general, and eSpecially the interests of her new-made fathers —the Eagles. Miss Brow-n carried off the honors with a modest bearing, and her fame spread to different parts of the state. Town after town wanted to have her for its adopted daughter, and many meetings were called to con- sider the subject. All difficulties were finally adjusted. at the meeting of the State Firemen's Association, when by a. unanimous vote the pet of the Greensboro boys was made a daughter of the State association. Already the daughter of the com— pany boasts two medals for her brav- ery at fires, and several resolutions have been passed by diiferent bodies of citizens who owe to her plucky work the saving of many thousand dollars. Miss Brown takes the greatest inter- est in the department. in her house connected with the gen- eral signal system. It is very rare that she is late at the scene of a blaze, for no matter at what hour her fire gong- sou-nds the alarm, Miss Brown dons her clothes and starts ofl‘. to help her fathers. Many of them have reason to bless her for her kindly help, especially af- ter some accident, for the little girl is ready to nurse the sick and injured, and is always prepared for such emer- gencles. Besides being so brave she is ex- tremely pretty. Her eyes are dark and fawn-like, with rounded features and a mass of waving chestnut hair, which the little fire girl wears parted loosely in the middle and caught up at the back of her head by a plain black velvet band—New York Journal. . The Bricks Must be Returned. There is a small town in one of the Eastern States, not far from Boston, where i'i-i-ubitrants take great pride in exec-.3111; every other town in their vi- cinity. They try every new invention, and’ if it has any sort of merit it is sure to be assigned to duty in some part of the place. ‘Two portly gentlemen, one a sea-captain and. the other a lawyer, both retired from active life, were the prime movers in the experiments and adoptions, and, naturally, in the course of time they failed to agree. Ex- treme jealousy then prevailed, and a bitter animosity sprang up between them. Unfortunately these two gentlemen lived next door to each other—in fact, so close were their houses that the side walls almost adjoi-ned. One very windy night the lawyer was reading a book in his study when a teriific crash upstairs stzu tied him. Upon in- vestigati-ng he found that an unruly chimney 11nd ruthlessly hurled itself iihrough his roof, doing considerable damage. That in itself was a matter of great annoyance, but when be dis- covered it was the sea-captain’s chim- ney that was responsible, his wrath knew no bounds. Hastening down to his library, he pulled out his law- books and hunted up similar cases, de- vising and scheming how he could se- cure satisfaction from the detestable captain. While thus engaged a note arrived from his enemy that read as follows: “Sir, —If you don’t return those bricks at once, I will put the matter in the hands of the law.”—Harper’s Round Table. Why is a church- bell more affable than a church organ? Because one will go when it’s tolled, but the other will be “blowed” first. ' She has a. call -————- -—.._.— _ ‘1- 1—” .... .- THE CIVILIZING WHEEL. E1 c111 of Interest to Eldon "f 11“ 11: Silent ' Stood. It is the couch 'rent testimony of the daily news reports that whenever two vehicles come into-collision. or two or): raving umbrellas collide, there is a cer- tain amount ,of f1-iction'engenderedfi‘ sometimes giving rise to bad language and even to lawsuits. But how differ‘ eat is the result when bicycle collides with bicycle! Instead of breaking out into objurgation and hatred, each one became deeply interested in the other and wanted to know the make of his wheel and its capacity to resistance in collision. The minor matter of per- sonal damage was then settled at the nearest drug store, a. llbation to the new a’Cquaintanceship was poured out in those soft drinks which the wheel has done so much. to popularize, mu- tual inquries were made as to their re spective clubs and the condition of various suburban roads, and they who had met askstmngers parted as friends because each one was satisfied that his wheel was. .the better. This is the striking illustration of the clvillzing BY THE WAY. and~ humanizing influence of the blv cycle, but it is something which to all wheelmen is mere commonplace. Po- liteness and good nature are merely two in a long catalogue of benefits. Its cheerful influences know no limit to their range. It has multiplied court- ships and abolished elopements, and while it has encouraged matrimony it has diminished divorces. The melan. choly wheelman is wholly unknown, and it is positively asserted that no wheelman has ever committed suicide voluntarily. When one reflects that the bicycle is. so to speak, still an in- fant industry, the mind is lost in con- jecture'as to the future of its influence on the human race. Once every two months should be enough to take a tolerably good wheel apart, and if half that is claimed for the 1897 wheels is true, and you have one of them, once a year should be sufficient. Many riders have a. mania for taking their machines apart and talking of the great amount of time that is wasted in keeping bicycles in good order. Amateurs rarely do any, good by looking into the bearings, and are as likely as not to do considerable harm by getting "grit into the cups or failing to adjust the bearings so that they shall be just snug enough when they put the parts together. So much depends on the adjustment of a wheel being exactly right that it is always wise to leave that matter to a thor- oughly competent person. Pedal mounting is becoming more and more common. Itisa good thing to avoid. It wrenches the Wheel, and however carefully and strongly it may be made, successive shocks of that kind are cer- tain to make trouble later in the sea- son. Curb mounts are the best for the wheel. ' No amount of preaching or instruca tion will fully impress the novice with the possibilities of side slip. Warn him ever so faithfully to be careful not to turn shaply on wet spots, and down he will go with a slam at the first favor‘ able opportunity. The one thing to do in slippery places is to ride in a per‘ fectly straight line. Turn a matter of two points in either direction and the situation is lost. Not until the average beginner has gone. to earth once or twice can he be convinced that this is. so. The feeling that prevails when the machine, crahlike. begins to edge oil sideways. is the most. forlorn and help- less of all cycling SunSiliiOllS, save that experienced by the brakeless cytlist when he realizes that his wheel is run- ning away with h.1n down hill. And the more f1antic the cifmt to recover equilibrium the more complete the con tact of the rider's per son with the ground when i111. sprawl follows. A writer on hygiene states that the intense thirst which attacks many wheelmen is the result of breathing thiough the lips, thus parching the lips, mouth and ihuu‘i, and advises that the mouth be kept shut against in- halations, He says: “When you can’t make a hill without opening the mouth ’twere better to dismount than to con- tinue the exertion. Even when dis- mounted and the breathing is labored, the mouth should be kept closed. He also advises against the use of tobac- co, stating that chewing aifects the cir- culating system; smoking, especially cigarettes, affects the heart and breathing, making .one short winded. Concluding, he says: “A cigarette smoker will find that it requires more exertion for him to ride a fine, well‘ geared,‘well-oiled machine than it does a non-cigarette smoker to push an old? fashioned, rusty, out-of-date bicycle." In Mexico the bananas that are con- sidered best by many are only about two inches long. I i 11111111011113 Mm, _ *. PRESENTED .BY WASHINGTON TO THE WARRIOR AND PROPHET. It \Vns Often Pumped for'Flrewater but ‘ Always Redeemed, and at Last Became the Possession of Gen. 9111-1111, the Last. Sachem of the Six Nations. The silver medal which Washington gave to Red Jacket in 1792 was last the property of General Ely S. Parker. one of Grant‘s aids in the war for the Union, who was the last sachem of the Six Nations. 9 In 1792 President Washington called a council of Indian sachems to meet him in Philadelphia. About fifty of the most prominent _ chiefs responded. Washington desired to bring about an improvement in the moral and social conditions of the Indian; the red men desired to have their relations to the white men’s government defined; neith— er, object was attained; but the gath- ering was nevertheless one of impor- tance. The conferen’te was prolonged for over six weeks, the Indians taking great time to Weigh cvcry utterance of the white men. At the close, Wash- ington gave to Red Jackctawho had ' been emin ‘Ilt as war1'1o1 and prophet, who Was the spokesman of all i‘1 ‘ chiefs, and who was chosen as the bearer of the President‘s peace ”mes- sage to the Indians—this medal and a pipe made after the Indian fashion in the form of a tomahawk. The pipe Red Jacket smoked to the end of his life, but the medal be pawned time and again as security for his debts for firewater at various bar- rooms, and time and again it was re- deemed. Notwithstanding Red Jack. et’s attachment to his pipe, no one knows where that is; but his medal, after many vicissitudes of ownership, fell into the possession of General Barker. It is silver, seven by five in- ches; on its face an Indian is receiv. ing from a white man the pipe of , peace, while in the background a man ; below the figures is the in scription, “George IVashington, Presi‘ dent,1792.” On the reverse is the shield of the United States on the breast of a spread eagle, in one of whose talons is a bunch of arrows, in the other an olive branch, Red Jacket was a name given him by the Ameri- cans because at the time of the Seneca chief’s alliance with the British in the revolution he were a military red coat which an officer had given him. His native name was Sagoyewatha, mean— ing “He who keeps awake.” He was not physically brave, though a great leader in war. He was very proud of the Washington medal, and when La- fayette visited him in 1825 he wore the medal. and he owned it when he died in 1830.——Boston Transcript. is plowing No Bottomless Lakes. The deepest body of fresh water in America is Crater Lake, Oregon. Only one lake in the world, Lake Baikal, ex- ceeds it in depth, and is only 400 feet deeper. Until recently it was asserted Crater Lake was bottomless, but soundings have shgwn its greatest depth to be 2,000 feet. It is. five miles in diameter, nearly circular and occu- pies the crater of an extinct volcano. No fish have ever been known to ex‘ ist in Crater Lake. There are very few places in the lake where the depth is less than 1,600 feet, and no lake on the western hemisphere approaches this. It is no wonder, then, that Crater Lake was supposed to be bottomless. However, the truth is that all lakes over 150 feet possess a similar reputa- tion. Any body of water that is deeper than the length of the longest feeling line is sure to lack a'bottom in the popular belief. There is no data on which to base a guess as to the bottom temperature of Crater Lake, but the supposition is that it will be very little above freez- ing. The temperature of the ocean re mains at about 40 degrees Fahrenheit all the year round, even in the tropics. Nevertheless, some volcanic heat may yet remain to warm the waters of Crater Lake—Chicago News... An Efl‘ort to Explain. “Phwat's the good av 11 threaty?” asked Mr. Rafferty. who had been dew voting some reading to international topics. “Well," replied Mr. Doian; “it's sometoimes harrud to hope the shtraight av a quarrel an’ be sure who's in the might an’ who’s in the wrong. A threaty makes it plain as day, an’ fur thot it’s a good t’ing.” “But how does it work?” “Supposin’ you an’ meself wus two Govermints, an’ we made a threaty thot we’ll 110v no foights; nothin’ but argumints. An' supposin’ Oi git riled at something you do an’ shtart in ty lick yez.” “Yez couldn’t do it,‘ Dolan." “Oi might ihry.” “Air 1.hwat thin?" “Then thot u’d be a breach of the thrcaiy an’ my part, an’ yez could go ahead :111’ lick me, if ye wor able, wid Frozen hIilk. _ European papers say that frozen milk is becoming very popular. It is frozen in different-sized bricks, and in‘ this way its purity and freshness are insured. The Belgian Cox'z-rnment in- tends to increase the trade at an an- nual outlay of £10,000, and in Copen- hagen, the capital of Denmark, 11 com- pany has been formed and arrange- ments have been completed for the re- gular export of frozen milk. The nec- essary plant has been erected, and con— tracts have been made already for the deliVery of 110,000 pounds a week, which will be sent to all parts of the ivorizl in bricks like ice. 0, a clear conSciencc.”—-\Vashington Star. ‘ no ' l CURRENT 'OOMMENJ. Somebody has been draws“): re ularly for» thousands of Spain's d-: soldiers in Cuba. The whalefirani campaign in that island has been speculation in death, and its benefici ties are probably to be found in oi cers' uniforms reveling in luxurio extravagance while their troops a tarnishing. The Czar is said to be cultlvati his speed. He runs a mile every do The Emperor of Germany is becOmi quite a scorcher on the bicycle. N this is a sensible precaution for . Kings and Emperors, for they her know how soon they may be compeli to travel, or how fast. History is f of sprinting sovereigns, from No down to Napoleon, and they foolis! neglected to develop their wind. The local council of Philadeip continues to be smirehed With scand Members of that municipal legislat are now accused of receiving men from policemen as an inducement pass a. bill raising police salaries, a other councilmen are charged with : cepting railway passes and seili them. The bronze statue of Willi Penn may blush at one institution which his descendants cannot proud. Of'the $200,000,000 war indeih'h which Japan is to receive from Chi it is expected that nearly 80 per - will be expended in naval const tion. It is therefore in order to as tain what portion of this vast sum 1 be acquired by the enterprise of Am lean" shipbuilders, steel forgers, makers and competitors in other 1. chanical industries. A country w that amount of money to spend . serves to be looked after by Americ manufacturers who have things sell. ’hile the enthusiasm of the cycl . is perennial, it is subject to the cha of degree, like other human emotio (Its maximum is experienced in 1 spring, when Nature dons her wid smile and picks up her skirts to da- from very exuberance of spirit. enthusiasm of the wheel, when 11 mal, is an extremely wholesome f tor in maintaining the communit mental and physical balance. W first liberated from the bondage winter it requires a little watchful straint—a precautionary censorship a few weeks, as it were. Evidences multiply that the $5,! fee promised to the ex-president of United States Senate for reporting Fi-tzsimmons-Corbett prize fight 1 grudgingly paid. For never did much~advertised “feature" fall so as did Ingalls’ ridiculous “report" the bloody encounter in the New Y Journal. It disgusted not only repi ble citizens who deplored the prost tion to base uses of talents once mired, butthe prize fight enthusi as well. They simply ignored the Senator’s pointless narrative, in s; of the brave display of pica type 1 black headlines, and turned over the simple description of the fight a reporter who knew his business. Professor Charles Howard Hin of Princeton University, has given informal exhibition of an lnven which seems. calculated to revolut‘ ize the whole sport of base ball. contrivance, if generally adop ~would strip the game of its terrl eliminate all the elements of un tainty, and bring it right down t mechanical basis. Briefly explai Prof. Hinton's device is a gun. proposes to place it in the pitch box, from which, with reasonable in aiming and firing, balls may be livered straight over the plate with sort of curve, in-shoot, out-shoot, d or other fancy gyration which, the genius of the gunner may conce The force and efficiency of such a chine are self-evident. Properly lo ed with giant powder, dynamite compressed. air, and aimed by a :- ner of ordinary exiierience in.artil operations, it should be able to se baseball down to the man at the with sufficient warmth and precisio make him and his partisans wear deed. Aside from the question of man- however, the tendency of the el- to assail and criticise each other i interesting waymark of the times. the Middle Ages. and., indeed, within a comparatively recent p- the clerical order was looked u: - a :1 sacred caste. and its claim to possessioncf special power and sight was conceded without ques as part of the divine order of world. in those days the clergy orally stood by each other, and ready at all times to defend the p leges of their order. The esprit corps of the profession Was as hi_ developed as is that of the arm navy today. But modern civiliza is sweeping all those old ideas of 1 icai caste aside. Outside of the nomination of which he is a mini no special sanctity or authority i cached to any beliefs or opinions a clergyman may hold. People a with him just so far as they think right, and do not hesitate to disa, with him when they think him wr The fact that he is a clergyman :n in i.‘ émai'er :1i. :1“.
Norwalk Chronicler