Earlier text: WORKING IN CHRIST'S LINES“WHAT is truth?” The same question that Pilate asked still comes rolling down to us. Of all questions, this should ever be of first interest, and paramount importance. The Saviour answers this question in John 17: 17: “Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth.” Then we may know whether or not we have the truth of any matter. That which is in harmony with the Word is truth; and that which is out of harmony with the Word is untruth, and should be cast aside. Why is it better to believe and live in accordance with truth than with error? “Hereby know we the Spirit of truth, and the spirit of error.” Truth, like its Author, is eternal; it cannot be destroyed. You might as well think of banishing God from His throne as to think of destroying one of His truths. “The truth of the Lord endureth forever.” Ps. 117: 2. And one has beautifully said, “Truth crushed to earth shall rise again: the eternal years of God are hers.” Truth may be trampled under foot of man, lost sight of for ages, unappreciated by the human mind, yet it is truth all the time; and sometime, by some one, in God’s own wisdom and providence, that truth will be brought to light. And oh, how beautiful and sweet will it be to him who finds it! But in order to be appreciated, the truth must be received into the heart and life. The very ground upon which you and I are walking may contain the most precious metals. We may be trampling upon a gem of rare beauty and value. But some day, perchance, I see a glistening object. I pick it up, I examine it closely, and to my surprise it is a valuable pearl. What would I do? Would I begin reasoning, “Well, my foreparents lived here upon this land; they didn’t see this pearl, and as they did not, I will not”? Would I reason so foolishly? Would I say: “Well, if this is really valuable, why didn’t they find it? And because they didn’t, I, too, will leave it in the earth”?—Oh, no; I would not reason thus, but would eagerly grasp the new-found treasure. The Sabbath, although lost sight of by the people for a long time, buried beneath the rubbish and traditions of men, is in these last days being found. Have you found it? If so, have you called in your friends and neighbors to rejoice with you? The Sabbath truth is only one illustration of the fact that “truth crushed to earth shall rise again: the eternal years of God are hers.” The Lord has said, “The seventh day is the Sabbath,” and so it will ever be. All the theories of man will come to naught. But God’s truth will ever stand. Those who stand on truth will stand eternally; but those who build on error, the “sand,”—man’s ideas and opinions,—will certainly go down; for error must and will be destroyed. Let us “build on the Rock.” It is firm, and will stand. TAKE THE RIGHT SIDE, OR DIE.
The Sunday Temperance Meeting of the John Russell Union at Detroit, was addressed, May 26, by State Chairman Fred E. Britten. A memorial service. Well attended in spite of rainy weather. Deepest interest manifest. Text, Heb. 11:4: “He being dead yet speaketh.” Mr. Britten spoke in part as follows:— Some one has said, “Let us beware how we water our life blood.” The choice between the way of Abel and the way of Cain is open to all. You may water your life blood by compromise, or for principle may shed it in sacrifice. I am asked to pay a tribute to the unknown dead, to the common man who died and was buried without a name. “He being dead yet speaketh.” When Spanish perfidy blew up the “Maine,” and two hundred and fifty-six men perished, you were so enraged that you plunged into war. You could fight Spain for that, but you have scarcely a thought for the two hundred and seventy-five whom the saloon hurls into eternity every single day. Parents let their children go to ruin, churches go to sleep alongside their deadliest foe, Christians go into the political scramble for the loaves and fishes, while the rum fiend despoils whole streets of homes, ruins one boy out of every five families, and brands as a drunkard every eleventh man of our population. I tell you the dram shop is the gate of hell, and I speak to-day not only for the dead who have stained the battle field with their blood, but for the hundred thousand and more who, unknown, unloved, and unlamented, stagger to a despised grave every year through the liquor traffic. What are these dead saying to us? 1. They call us to patriotism. Patriotism is a principle—love—love of country—self-abnegation for the good of the State. Diogenes carried a lantern in broad daylight looking for an honest man. Get your lanterns and search among the entire outfit of modern politicians and office holders for a patriot. If you find one, tell the world his name; for he shall be immortal. Patriotism demands two things, the recognition of God, and loyalty to moral standards. Mirabeau well said, “God is as necessary as freedom to the welfare of a popular government.” When this nation forgets God, or fails to recognize His moral law in the conduct of the affairs of State, the clouds of doom are already gathered for the nation’s judgment day. Nationally, we stretch morals to justify monopolies and oppression, stretch morals to foster and protect the dram shop, stretch morals to apologize for polygamy and slavery in our new possessions, permitted by so-called Christian government, stretch morals to license her to ply her trade whose steps lay hold on hell, and to legalize “the deep ditch” in the Philippines, under the guise of regulation and protection for a lecherous soldiery. I am no ranter, no calamity howler, but I submit that the nation that so defies God and sets at naught His standard, must soon repent or perish. In the name of the unknown dead, I appeal to you to arise and assert your manhood. Lift up the moral standards in your nation, which have fallen down. 2. The unknown dead are calling us to heroism. My tribute to-day shall be to the heroes of common life. The need of this hour is men,—men who will stand in their place, and from the heights of conscience do right though the heavens fall,—men too clean to compromise, too strong to waver, too true to dodge,—men who will not water their life blood, nor that of the Church, nor that of the nation. 3. The unknown dead call us to take sides. A mighty struggle is on, and it is time that seventeen million professors of religion took sides against the dram-shop and gin-mill politics. Take sides before the nation is engulfed in the quagmire of saloonism, drunkenness, and corruption. Take sides before your sons and daughters are caught in the awful maelstrom of alcoholism. Take sides while you have voice and pen and influence and ballot to arrest the despoliation of the nation, the Church, and the home. Take sides. Will you let the Church go to ruin and America to hell for the lack of a little heroism in yourself? Take sides. You cannot water the life blood of the Church or of the State and save your own. Take sides, or die. THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS.
By T. R. Williamson
“God is love, I know, I feel, Jesus weeps and loves me still.” “Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever.” Heb. 13:8. Does the old hymn speak the truth? I know that Jesus loves me; but does His deep interest in me move Him even to tears? I was brought up to believe that there can be no sadness, no grief, no weeping, in the glorious heaven of heavens, where God lives, and where the angels of mercy and love look upon his fatherly face with joy unspeakable. In such a presence can Jesus be filled with so deep an interest in my case that He should even now shed tears? There are millions of happy worlds, unfallen, where the blight of death or wasting disease has never come, where all the inhabitants do God’s will, and enjoy His ceaseless favor. The angels are messengers and visitants to those sinless spheres, and the light and cheer carried by them from heaven is reflected from the faces of those who rejoice in all that is good and pure and true. And love from those worlds flows in ceaseless streams of majesty and sweetness to the Lord Jesus Christ. The people of unfallen worlds love Jesus, and their affection makes Him happy. And can it be, with the love of the universe of righteous and orderly orbs to gladden His kingly soul, Jesus even weeps for such as I? Ah, to ask such a question with a doubt as to the answer is to liken Jesus’ love to our weak human preferences for one another. “He that toucheth you toucheth the apple of His eye.” The apple of the eye is sensitive, extremely so. To touch the apple of the eye is to inflict pain. But can God feel pain?—Yes, indeed; or He could not feel for me. That interest which cannot feel the pain of another, sharply, keenly, is not love; it is merely selfishness, and God cannot be selfish. He is all love, and Jesus is named Michael—one who is like God. “The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.” If this be true, that all creation, all the innumerable worlds that spangle the heavens like the lustrous gems of glory,—they are a part of creation,—if they all are in pain, groaning with it, until the warfare caused by sin is over, then we may be sure that God and Jesus and heaven are in entire sympathy and accord with all the created works of God. “In all their affliction He was afflicted.” Affliction, sorrow, and perplexity falling upon God’s children awaken responsive thrills of agony even in the bosom of God. The universe feels together. Holy angels weep, so the Testimonies assure us. Jesus wept, and His nature never changes. His love is as tender now as when He groaned in spirit at the home of His dead friend in Bethany. O distressed Christian! Jesus feels your distress, and sympathizes with you. God the Father feels your hurt as keenly as one feels a rude finger when it strikes his unguarded eye. Holy angels weep in love and pity for you, and your groans of sorrow spread through the universe like ripples circling away from a plunging stone. Oh, we have friends! Love calls for us, and longs for our welfare, and yearns and waits for our companionship, in every world, from the central heaven, even to the most distant star. “OWE NO MAN ANYTHING.”
By Chas. L. Boyd
THE LATE ELDER CHAS. L. BOYD. EIGHTEEN hundred years ago Jesus sent His angel to tell His people, through His servant John, that His Church on earth, when He comes, will have characters in harmony with His commandments; that they will be actually keeping His commandments, which are declared to be His righteousness. See Ps. 119:172; Deut. 6:25. In the middle of the nineteenth century a people started for the marriage supper of the coming King. This people were called Adventists. The previous half-century had witnessed the fulfilment of some of the signs that marked His coming near. While He tarried, they learned that they were not keeping His commandment which says, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. . . . The seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God.” Like faithful servants, they reformed, and for half a century they have been leading others to join in this reformation. This class of reformers are called Seventh-day Adventists. Volunteers have been enlisting until now there is quite an army of hopeful guests. But are all these commandment-keepers? or are some of them without oil in their vessels? As one of the Master’s commandments says, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” we know that this company are Sabbath-keepers. Another of His commandments says, “Thou shalt not steal;” or, in other words, “Owe no man anything.” Then may we not with the same assurance know that this company will have no debts due their fellow men when the Lord comes? Some who are hopeful members of this company do now owe other men. Some owe the merchant for the clothes they are wearing. Others owe for the food they have already eaten. Some owe the publishing company or their tract society for the books they have sold, and for which they have received the money. Some owe for borrowed money, for which they have given no security but their promise. The solemn question presents itself, Will these be received into the marriage supper of the King while in this condition? If not, what is the way out of this condition? Is there any short cut, or any way out except in paying their just debts? “But,” says Brother A, “I cannot424 pay my debts and support my family.” Brother A, you promised to pay for those goods last fall, and the merchant let you have them on the strength of that promise, supposing there was strength in that promise to insure his pay. Had you taken those goods without his consent, you would have stolen, would you not? Have you not now taken them without his consent? He consented to your taking them only on condition that you pay for them, and you have not done it. Now, what have you done? Have you stolen? Are you a thief? Will the Master say, “You are keeping my commandments,” when you are living in violation of this commandment of both the law and the gospel? We are agreed that the man who breaks the Sabbath is not a commandment-keeper. Is it any less clear that the man who owes debts that are due is not a commandment-keeper? The way for the former to do is to repent and find forgiveness for his past sins, and then, with God’s help, do that which he has before left undone. Is not this the only way for the latter class to do? As this test is applied, will Seventh-day Adventists be sifted as were the first Adventists when the Sabbath truth was applied? My brethren, let us move forward. Let us remember that with this, as with every commandment of God, an assurance is given of strength to do that commandment. Let us each say, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me,” and then do it. ALL PLAIN AT LAST.
By Mrs. P. Alderman
Dear Master, help us to receive
The strength thy word hath promised.
Help us to trust, to work, believe,
Nor fail, nor be discouraged.
So shall life's race be quickly run,
And grace complete what grace begun. Quicken us, Lord, to joyful cheer
That other hearts will reach.
We cannot faint if hope appear;
That other hearts will reach.
Uncertain all the things we see,
The unseen endures eternally. And we shall comprehend at last,
When faith to sight has grown;
When all the clouds and mists are past,
Then God's ways will be known.
Rejoice, for vast eternity
Unharmed by sin will ever be. BIBLE READING. Perfection of Character.
By C. P. Whitford
“HOLY,” “holiness”—in their primitive meaning these words imply a separation, or setting apart, from secular and profane uses to sacred and divine uses—the comparative freedom from sin which results from the sanctification of the human heart, as in the case of Christians. Heb. 3:1; Col. 3:12. 1. What is the character of God’s law?—“Wherefore the law is holy.” Rom. 7:12. 2. What is the character of God?—“Be ye holy; for I am holy.” 1 Peter 1:16. 3. As God is holy, and His law is holy, then is not the law a transcript of His character? 4. What are we commanded to follow?—“Follow . . . holiness.” Heb. 12:14. 5. As God and His law are both alike in character,—both are holy,—can we follow holiness and not follow the law? 6. To be like God and like a law that is holy is to be like them in what?—It is to be like them in character. If two things are alike, to be like one is to be like the other. 7. Is holiness necessary to salvation?—“Without which no man shall see the Lord.” Heb. 12:14. Holiness is a Bible doctrine. Angels were cast out of heaven because of sin, or unholiness. Eze. 28:16. Will anything be taken back that is sinful, or unholy?—No. Matt. 5:8; Rev. 21:27. 8. What other attribute is given to the law of God?—“Righteousness.” Ps. 119:172. 9. Is God also righteous?—“Gracious is the Lord, and righteous.” Ps. 11:7; 116:5. “There is no unrighteousness in Him.” Ps. 92:15. 10. Is it necessary for us to have righteousness?—“Seek righteousness: . . . it may be ye shall be hid in the day of the Lord’s anger.” Zeph. 2:3. 12. Does the Lord expect us to be perfect?—“Be ye therefore perfect.” Matt. 5:48. 13. How perfect?—Just as perfect in our sphere as our Father in heaven is in His; just as perfect as the law of our Father in heaven, which is like Him in character. 14. We have found that the law is holy, and righteous, and perfect. God is also holy, and righteous, and perfect; and we are required to be holy, and righteous, and perfect. 15. Some say they are holy and righteous of themselves. To what does the Lord compare such righteousness?—To filthy rags. Isa. 64:6. 16. According to the standard of the Ten Commandments, are any righteous by nature? Rom. 3:10, 19, 23. 17. Not having any righteousness of our own, whose righteousness do we need?—God’s righteousness. Matt. 6:33. What is God’s righteousness? Ps. 119:172. 19. If we could obtain righteousness from the law, what would it frustrate?—It would frustrate the favor of God. Gal. 2:21. 20. What is said of those who seek to become righteous through the law?—“Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified [or seek for justification because of good works] by the law; ye are fallen from grace.” Gal. 5:4. 21. Does justification come, then, as a result of our works?—No, indeed (Rom. 3:20); but from a faith which works. Gal. 5:6. Anything called faith which does not work the works of God is not faith. To believe in God is to work the works of God. John 6:28, 29. A righteous man does righteousness. 1 John 3:7. This is not to make himself righteous; for we have learned that no man is made righteous by the law (Gal. 3:11), but he bears the fruit of righteousness because he has been made righteous. 24. Shall we continue to sin, or continue to transgress the law, because the law will not say to us, You are all right? Gal. 2:17. 25. Whose right-doing does the law represent?—God’s. 26. How many think they can do things as nearly right as God can? 27. How great is the difference between our way of doing things and God’s way?—The difference is as great as the heavens are higher than the earth. Isa. 55:8, 9. 28. Do we belong to ourselves?—“For ye are bought with a price.” 1 Cor. 6:19, 20. 31. What besides us did He purchase at His death? Gal. 1:3, 4. He “gave himself for our sins”—for our unrighteousness. Shall we deliver over to the Lord that which is His own? 32. Before we can give up sin and ourselves to the One to whom we and our sins belong, what is first necessary?—We must become reconciled to God through the death of His Son. Rom. 5:10. 33. Does the death of His Son save us?—No; it only reconciles us to God so we are willing to give ourselves and our sins to the Lord. Rom. 5:10. But in the giving of ourselves and our sins to the Lord, we are accepting Him; and when we have Him with us, we have all there is in Him. 1 Cor. 1:30; Isa. 54:17. And what is there in Him?—“The Lord is righteous in all His ways, and holy in all His works.” Ps. 145:17. 35. What was His life? John 15:10. From infancy to the grave He lived a life of perfect obedience to the law of God. Consequently, as the law is holy and righteous and perfect, in Him there is holiness and righteousness and perfection; and having Him, we have all there is in Him, and this is how we are holy and righteous and perfect, even as our Father in heaven is perfect. 36. What will witness to this holiness and righteousness and perfection?—“The law and the prophets.” Rom. 3:20, 21. 37. How are they obtained? Vs. 22-28; 4:3-5. CHRISTIAN TRUST IN TIMES OF DANGER.
By A. Smith
A. SMITH.
(Grandville, Mich.) The great cyclones that spread devastation and ruin over large territories, afford a theme of serious contemplation to all, one from which the true Christian may draw lessons of faith and trust in God, which will enable him calmly to face dangers that render many persons frantic with fear. These fearful tornadoes and cyclones, so frequent in our time, are, in the fact of their frequency and violence, precursors of the world’s dissolution as foretold in the prophecies; and, in common with many other phenomena, are admonitions to those who willingly give attention, to prepare for that solemn day when a great whirlwind shall be raised up from the coasts of the earth, which will wreck the world. It is important to know what the attitude of a Christian should be at the approach of such a sudden and awful danger as a cyclone or tornado. It should be settled once for all in the mind of every Christian that he belongs to God: “Ye are not your own. For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.” 1 Cor. 6: 19, 20. How is it with you, brother, sister? When a storm approaches, or other imminent danger threatens, can you say, “Lord, I belong to thee. Keep thine own from danger”? Can you say, “God is my refuge and strength, my very present help in this trouble” (see Ps. 46:1); and then, in trustful calmness, await the passing of danger? Can you say, “ ‘The Lord hath His way in the whirlwind [cyclone] and in the storm,’ and therefore His way is the best for me, for I trust in Him, and He knows me”? See Nahum 1:3, 7. Timid sister, when, at the approach of a storm, you see the dark clouds like heavy billows of the sea madly rushing hither and thither in the fury of the gale, remember that there is One near you who can say to the mad elements, “Peace, be still.” If the Saviour be with you in the ship, even though He be sleeping, your vessel never can be lost in the dark waters. When the lightning flashes in the face of the storm, and the booming thunder shakes the very earth, rejoice to know that God, who thus expresses His great power and majesty, is your Father; and that He has no less power to save you than He has to work devastation in the earth as He sees necessary. Ready Hearts Amid a World's Sorrow
“THE wails of a world’s sorrow are all around us; its shadow is pressing in upon us, and our minds must be ready for every good word and work, because we know we have the presence of Jesus. The sweet influence of His Holy Spirit is teaching and guiding our thoughts to speak the words that will refresh and cheer and brighten the path of others.” THE TIME TO DO GOOD.
By John McCarthy
Our lives are as the shadow
Which must vanish soon away.
As the floweret, so fragrant,
Which enchants our hearts to-day,
But which must an early victim
Fall to bitter winds, and frost;
So, too, shall we, and quickly,
From life's path fore'er be lost. How oft we mourn, and sadly,
The loss of friends so dear.
When dead, we from our memories
Their many faults would tear.
We try to think of something good
That they in life have done;
We even on their tomb may place
A cold memorial stone. 'Tis better far our kindly acts
We toward the living show;
Let us upon mankind—in life—
Our loving deeds bestow;
Then even though we pass away
From earth's turmoil and strife,
Others will bless our memory
For what we've done in life. THE SPARE BED.
By Mrs. H. W. Pierce
MRS. H. W. PIERCE. (Oxford, Miss.) I HOPE I may be pardoned for saying a few things that seem needful to be said,—things which one cannot say to the hostess who has entertained her guest with the kindest feelings and most sincere desire for his comfort. It may be the tired canvasser, or possibly the no less weary minister and his wife, who, at a late hour, are shown to their room for the night. A stately bed, well-formed and with square corners, greets the eye. It looks grand: what more can any one wish? But let us investigate. Did it ever occur to you that all do not enjoy the feathers which give such a fine shape to your bed? To a few persons they produce an effect not unlike that of a mild mustard poultice, causing a surface burning of the whole body, and especially of the spinal column, where the nerve-centers are located. So off goes the feather bed; maybe there are two old ones that descended from a loved grandmother, or some ancestor still further back. What comes next in the construction of the bed? It may be an old hard mattress, uneven and worn out, but surely the thick feather bed will cover its hard, lumpy proportions. Instead of an old mattress, it may be a tick stuffed very full of hard straw that has never been stirred, or it may be a little worn straw—too much worn for any bed that is used every day. There are no springs on the spare bed yet, because they were more needed somewhere else, and the feather bed will make up for their absence. Put the springs on your own bed, weary housewife, if you have but one set. That is right. But do not depend on the feather bed for the comfort of your guest. Resolve that this very next corn husking you will have a good, sweet bed of the husks, or shucks, as some call them, carefully excluding every one that is too stiff or a little moldy. The children will save a few every day, and you will soon find you have enough to fill your tick. Then make another tick just the size of the bed, fill it evenly with cotton, and tie it, as you would a comforter. Six pounds of cotton will do nicely for this home-made cotton mattress. Be sure that your tick is thoroughly clean and sweet. The cover for the mattress must be kept clean, too; and the sheets must also receive attention. Do you find it too much work to wash them each time after a guest has occupied the bed? If so, you may put them on the family beds if you feel willing to sleep after your guest; but in any case do not put your friend into a bed that has been soiled by unknown occupants. Let the coverings be light and clean. You say, “This is more easily said than done.” Yes, but a little forethought will help you to keep the bedding clean. Tack a half-breadth of print over the ends of the ticks. This will protect them a long time, and it may be easily removed and washed. Perhaps you cover old quilts or comforters; if so, never cover dirt. Let the fresh air and the sunshine into your spare bedroom, and frequently carry out the bedding into the sunshine and wind. Opening the window a few inches is not sufficient. If the windows are small, take one out entirely; you will be repaid by the sweet smell in place of the dusty, moldy odor of the shut-up room. Look carefully after scents; if you are not quick to detect them, ask some one whose olfactories are in a normal condition. An unpleasant smell may spoil the restful comfort of the dear ones unto whom you delight to minister. See that the floor and everything in the room are scrupulously neat and clean. Do not ignore little things; not one is of small importance. Nice furnishings are not necessary, but the demand for cleanliness is imperative. The weary, overburdened mother has our sincere sympathy. To such we would say: Do not try to do all the work yourself; set your girls, or even your boys, at the work of cleaning a room thoroughly every morning. With a light broom and a small mop a child can do the work when not more than ten years old, if he is carefully taught. You would rather do it yourself? This feeling is quite natural, but do not yield to it. Sit down one morning, and in a kind, encouraging way oversee the work; another morning trust to the honor and ability of the child to do it all alone. The little worker will delight to call you to see how nice everything looks when his work is finished; and you will be surprised to see how fast a genuine good taste is cultivated in the neat arrangement of the room. I found it that way with my own precious daughter, now sleeping, when she was small. Do not fail nor be discouraged even if you have poor health. For many years I had poor health and could never do the work in all parts of the house the same day. And to make the matter worse, I naturally lacked order. But I never was satisfied with poor housekeeping, and very often prayed that God would make it possible for me to become a good housekeeper; perhaps I should say “home-keeper,” for this is surely included in God’s plan. I believe He was as well pleased to answer that prayer as any other that I ever offered; for cleanliness and order are pleasing to Him, and He will help us over the hard places in our household duties if we trust in Him. The grace of good-nature is the best tonic for nervous disorders, the surest preservative of home happiness, and the most effective remedy for the divorce disease now unhappily prevalent. He who has learned how to take even the most disagreeable things and grievous disappointments good-naturedly, may never be a millionaire, but he will be what is much better, both happy and a source of happiness, and the atmosphere he carries with him will be like a bit of sunshine in the Mammoth Cave. — Selected. Don’t hurry. “Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.” “Simplify! Simplify! Simplify!” Don’t overeat. Don’t starve. “Let your moderation be known unto all men.” Court the fresh air day and night. “Oh, if you knew what was in the air!” Sleep and rest abundantly. Sleep is nature’s benediction. Spend less nervous energy each day than you make. Be cheerful. “A light heart lives long.” Think only healthful thoughts. As a man “thinketh in his heart, so is he.” “Seek peace, and pursue it.” Work like a man; but don’t be worked to death. Avoid passion and excitement. A moment’s anger may be fatal. Associate with healthy people. Health is contagious as well as disease. Don’t carry the whole world on your shoulders, far less the universe. Trust the Eternal. Never despair. “Lost hope is a fatal disease.”—Good Housekeeping. A WRITER in the New York Recorder tells the story of a newsboy who, months after he had eaten a Christmas supper, insisted on paying the kind journalist who provided it. On Christmas night an old-time newspaper writer stepped into a cheap restaurant in Park Row for a cup of hot coffee. As he took his seat at one of the small tables, a ragged little boy planted himself on the stool opposite. There was a wolfish glare in the boy’s eyes as he fumbled a nickel, and said, “A plate of beans.” I sipped my coffee and watched the boy ravenously devour the beans. Whispering to the waiter, I told him to bring a plate of corned beef, some bread and butter, and a bowl of coffee, for the boy. The little fellow stared for a moment, and began his meal. In a few minutes the beef, bread, and coffee had disappeared, yet the boy’s appetite was not satisfied. “What kind of pie do you like?” I asked. “Most any kind; they’s all good,” replied the boy. “Bring him some mince and pumpkin pie,” I said to the waiter. The boy gazed at the two pieces of pie in wonderment, and then looked up shyly, and pushed his nickel toward me. “What’s that for?” I asked. “To pay for the spread. It’s all I’ve got.” Taking a quarter from my pocket, I laid it on the boy’s coin, and pushed them across the table. “Is them for me?” said the boy, with his mouth full of pie. “Am I to have all that?” “Yes, this is Christmas night, you know.” “Yes, I remember; but I had no money for my lodging, so I didn’t get any of the dinner down at the newsboys’ lodging-house. Thank you, mister; you is good ter me.” Months passed. One day a boy stopped me near Brooklyn Bridge. “Say, mister,” he said, “I owe you a quarter. Here it is.” Recognizing my Christmas guest, I gently refused the money, telling him that he had better keep it. “No, you take it,” he persisted. “That supper and the quarter you gave me brought me luck, and I have not been so hungry since. You was so good that night, and I want you to take the quarter now, so that you can give some other boy a Christmas supper.” I took the coin, and many a poor newsboy has had a good dinner with it since.