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by the roadside attracted my attention. On stopping to examine, there was a glow-worm whose little flame had hollowed out of the immensity of darkness a small sphere of light, into which the grasses bent, all beaded with crystal drops. A most exquisite picture. Shelley speaks of a "glow-worm golden in a dell of dew." To go back to our camp-fire: After supper I stept down to the shore of the lake and there, far across its invisible surface, gleamed a little point of light. I knew that other campers were making themselves comfortable and happy in the little sphere of light and warmth which their fire had hollowed out of the all-embracing darkness.

Now, that precisely is the business of a sun. It is nothing more or less than a great fire built, as only God knows how, for the purpose of hollowing out of the eternal darkness and cold of space a sphere of light and warmth large enough for a group or family of worlds to live in. The sun is as purely a mechanical contrivance as your household fire. In fact, it is just that. Our sun is the family hearth, in whose light and heat our group of worlds live as in a home.—

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SUNDAY DESECRATION BY CHRISTIANS

Many years ago in Kyoto, Japan, the question was asked me, "Are there many Christians in America?" You can imagine how pathetic it was. I said, "Why do you ask that question?" My questioner was a fine, handsome, educated man, one of the finest of the Japanese type. He said, "Some years ago I became a Christian. I kept the finest store in Kyoto, as the tourists thought. I had gathered a great quantity of old relics from the temples and the homes that are so scarce now in Japan. I always used to keep my store closed on Sunday, but many Americans and Englishmen and Germans came through here and said, 'If you can not open your store for us on Sunday, we will not trade with you, as we have to leave on Monday.' By and by I had to keep my store open." He has kept it open ever since, and he added, "My neighbor, the shoemaker, is a Christian, and keeps his store shut all the time on Sunday." I suppose the reason was that there was not a large demand for Japanese shoes on the part of American and English travelers. That is a genuine touch of human nature.—, "Student Volunteer Movement," 1906.

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See.

Sunday Habit, A Bad—See.

SUNDAY NEWSPAPERS

When Dr. Charles J. Young, pastor of the Church of the Puritans, New York, was waited upon by a lady reporter of a secular journal, for a snappy article on the subject of Sunday newspapers, this is what she got:

"As a matter of fact," said Dr. Young, "I actually believe in the Ten Commandments as divine enactments, and this is how I feel about it: Suppose you invite me as a friend to dine at your house and I accept. You would make special preparation for my coming. It is woman's way to give her best where she gives her confidence and friendship. So there you have a rich repast all ready against my coming. Now imagine my stopping at a street corner on the way to your home and gorging myself from the peanut-stand of the noble Roman who deals out his wares to all who come without a care of the consequences; I ask this common-*sense question: What condition would I be in to enjoy your luscious viands, and what kind of courtesy or appreciation would this be for all your kindness in preparing for me? Well, my friend, you see the application of this without my making it. There across the street stands the house of the dearest Friend I have ever had. One day out of seven He invites me there to meet with Him and to commune with Him and to receive from Him such supply as He has especially provided and adapted to my hungry, needy, immortal soul. I ask again, is it consistent with a spiritual worship, is it conducive to a devotional mind, is it either courteous to God or just to myself, if on the morning of that sacred day I fill my thoughts with the secularities, the commercialisms, the gossips, the scandal, the general excrescences of every-day rough-and-tumble life in this mammon-loving age?

"My interviewer was silent for a surprizing length of time. Maybe I was wrong, but I fancied she looked up from the floor with a moistened eye and said in a quivering voice: 'I have never thought of this view of the