Christian Books

A Sceptic’s Home. Look back some forty years—there was not a quieter place then than the little village of Crossbourne. It was a snug spot, situated among hills, and looked as though it were hiding away out of the sight and notice of the bustling, roaring traffic that was going ceaselessly on all around it. A little fussy stream or brook flowed on restlessly day and night through the centre of the... more...

FAITH AND PATIENCE. "I HAVE no faith in anything," said a poor doubter, who had trusted in human prudence, and been disappointed; who had endeavored to walk by the lumine of self-derived intelligence, instead of by the light of divine truth, and so lost his way in the world. He was fifty years old! What a sad confession for a man thus far on the journey of life. "No faith in anything."... more...

[Transcriber's Notes] Here are the definitions of some unfamiliar (to me) terms. antediluvianPerson who lived before the Biblical Flood. Very old or old-fashioned.cavilRaise irritating and trivial objections; find fault unnecessarily.coniesRabbitsChromo (chromolithograph)Colored printlivery (clothing)Distinctive uniform.taresWeedy plants of the genus Vicia, especially the common vetch. Several... more...

THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." Ten years ago, business required me to pass a day in Cedarville. It was late in the afternoon when the stage set me down at the "Sickle and Sheaf," a new tavern, just opened by a new landlord, in a new house, built with the special end of providing "accommodations for man and beast." As I stepped from the dusty old vehicle in which I had been jolted along... more...

Life had indeed become complicated, paradoxical. He, John Hodder, a clergyman, rector of St. John's by virtue of not having resigned, had entered a restaurant of ill repute, had ordered champagne for an abandoned woman, and had no sense of sin when he awoke the next morning! The devil, in the language of orthodox theology, had led him there. He had fallen under the influence of the tempter of his... more...

My dear Dr. Russell,—Now that at length I take the step of printing my name in the Title-Page of this Volume, I trust I shall not be encroaching on the kindness you have so long shown to me, if I venture to follow it up by placing yours in the page which comes next, thus associating myself with you, and recommending myself to my readers by the association. Not that I am dreaming of bringing down upon... more...

CHAPTER I. A REMARKABLE WOMAN. I remember as well as though it were yesterday the first time I met Auntie Sue. It happened during my first roaming visit to the Ozarks, when I had wandered by chance, one day, into the Elbow Rock neighborhood. Twenty years it was, at least, before the time of this story. She was standing in the door of her little schoolhouse, the ruins of which you may still see, halfway... more...

CHAPTER I PAUL DOUGLAS and his wife, Esther, were holding a serious council together over their older boy, Walter. "I can't help feeling a little disappointment over the way things are going. I did so want the boy to come into the office with me." "I know," said Esther, with a grave smile, "but he seems to have his mind made up. I don't think we ought to thwart him if he... more...

Esau Tankardew. Certainly, Mr Tankardew was not a pattern of cleanliness, either in his house or his person. Someone had said of him sarcastically, “that there was nothing clean in his house but his towels;” and there was a great deal of truth in the remark. He seemed to dwell in an element of cobwebs; the atmosphere in which he lived, rather than breathed, was apparently a mixture of fog and dust.... more...

CHAPTER I. Philip Strong could not decide what was best to do. The postman that evening had brought him two letters and he had just finished reading them. He sat with his hands clasped over his knee, leaning back in his chair and looking out through his study window. He was evidently thinking very hard and the two letters were the cause of it. Finally he rose, went to his study door and called down the... more...