From Another World.

FROM ANOTHER WORLD .

I . —WAf . rru MAIITIN ' STORY . —JANTAEY 1889 . OF course I 1 -lieve in tho truth of all tho subl'mopi ' - ; - ciplcs tinght in Freemason ? y , but — " "Then you have no right to speak as you did a moment sinco . Tho fnct is that no doctrine is more plainly t »\> d distinctivel y taught by our grand and beloved Order then

that'of immortality ; indeed , it is the co \ ner-stono of the Ancient and Honourable Institution . Bob the brotherhood of their hope and belief , and — " " That is it , exactly ; hope , tslief ; hope and talief that have been handed down to ns through unnumbered ages ; hope

and belief that I do not doubt found an earlier growth around the old-time altars of primitive Freemasonry than in almost any of tho venerable systems of religion that thp r « C 3 s of men find it good to live by pud to dio by ; hope and belief—and nothing more . "

" Well , Giles Brautford , what moro would yon havo ?" "Knowledge ! A certainty that the most devoted Masons —tho most devout church mornbars—hesitatingly admit that they do not havo ; a conviction that admits of no

question , in the timo of sunniest noon or in tho hour of stormiest midnight , in the light of strongest and most vigorous life or in tho valley of the shadow of death—a knowledge —" "But , my dear fellow , yon must have faith . "

" I have it . You know rae too well to think I havo not , but faith and doubt aro correlatives , and ho who holds no moro than tho ono cannot freo himself from tho other . It

is only when onelm knowledge—knowledge so suro that faith is needless and its promises meaningless—that donbt dies . I want to know—to know as the scientist knows the laws that govern fche universe . "

" Well , well , " said I , " you ought to shine on tbo lecture platform , Giles Brantford , instead of hiding yonr light in a locomotive-cab . Hire a hall . "

" Do not talk slang , Brother Martin , expostulated he , " for ifc don't sound well from your lips . Besides , I have not any light ; and God knows I would not wish to shadow any man ' s soul with the darkness in mine . Sometimes I shrink from speaking with you regarding these matters

half fearing it is a wicked thing to do , though you are tho best friend I have in all tbo world . I understand the lesson taught mo the night I was mado a Master Mason ; I recognize the samo lesson in tho creeds of Christianity , and I believe it all—all—believe it all—and doubt ! Belief

mere belief , necessitates doubt ; one can no more exist without the other than the distinctive idea of day could be without the dark background of tho idea of night . We could not call men good unless thero wero sin in tho world , nnd—Bufc you get my thought , do you not ?"

" I think so , but let me question you a little . Of how many of tho Arfcnos inculcatri by Freemasomy—of how many of the tenets taught—have you actual knowledgeknowledge thafc transcends belief ?" " Why—why—of everything but thc ono that so troubles me . Brotherly love—relief—"

" Let us seo . Has any brother ever done for you an act thafc would really merit the namo of i olief ; an act that could ho said to grow out of brotherly love , rather than from the

instinctive adoption of tho ordinary civi'ities of life ?" " Why , no , perhaps nofc . Ton seo there has never been any need of it . Need conditions tho man i festation of such truth . "

" Just as ifc conditions the manifestation of any truth , " I replied ; " tho manifestation of the truth of our trust will como in good time . Beyond the grave—" "Yes , beyond the grave , " he said , half bitterly , " as you say you know , and as I believe . But why nofc here—now ?

How much I would give to know—to really know ! When my end comes , as it may—as it comes to so many railroad men—under a broken and twisted engine , in the midst of a blazing wreck—it would be so much easier to die if one were only sure of tbe light beyond the darkness ! It would

be so much easier to be brave—and stay , when a coward would jump , if one could know the breathless plunge into the blackness did nofc end all things—i f one could be sure thafc the grave had two doors , instead of one , rnd thafc the other door—the farther ono opened up and out ! Why , man , if I could know for an hour—"

"But thc conductor gave him his signal , just then , ancl I only had time to shako his hand hurriedly as he climbed aboard his engine . He pulled out into the darkness ,

From Another World.

sj aibol'cal of thc dp -kness in which he wandered—a darklies * which lias hi' i : fid hampered so many good and irr bio men—rnd I walked slowly and thought IV . Hy hick to

. r . y dnher-rm 'he sf . ition rnd ieieg . nph oilice . Rut , bavin " the Icisuva of midnig ht , on my luuuU , I wi ' jte down , irom memory , as nearly as I ecu id , the conversation I had had with my best , my life-long filend , Giles Biputford .

II . —GILES BRAN rroUD ' STORY . —JUNE 1880 . You would like the story of last night , would you ? Well , Walter Martin , if yon will promise not to laugh at

mo—promise nofc to say I must have been asleep and dreaming , instead of wakeful and watchful at my post—I will tell it to you . There is not much to tell , though , tbat yon do not alread y know .

It may seem a queer way of beginning to tell the stoiy of how I escaped taking my train into the river , last night , tin ' s going back a half dozen years to make a start , bnt it is tho only way , so I shall have to do it . Oscar Felton , bright , industrious , sober , trustworthy , a

member of our glorious Fraternity , and a fellow deserving all good things , was out of work and out of luck . I do nofc pretend to understand why , and you will pardon my trying to explain . His olcl homo was a thousand miles

west of here , more or less , and ho had drifted east in search of the advancement and appreciation that did not follow him . It may bo that his ill-luck came from his home sickness ; such things aro sometimes true .

Well , I happened to have a little influence with some of the higher officers of tho railroad , and I helped Oscar Felton . It was not much I did , and I would not mention

it at all if it was not a rather necessary part of tho story . I got him work , but ho was too good a mini to be out of work long , and I think that even he , with all his expressed gratitude and promised return of good if I ever needed it , did not count that as much . But I said some khul thinirs

to him , just when he was hungry for that sort of thing , and earned an intensity of thankfulness that I havo novor known the equal of in any other case . He said some wildl y incoherent things in connection with his purposes in regard to me and my future ; I havo forgotten what ho said ho

would do ; I have only a vague idea of the drift of tho whole thing . But 1 think he used language that is not usually found outside of sensational novels—used it , and meant it , too . I have nofc the slightest doubt he would have como across the continent , if by so doing he could

have rendered me assistance , to say nothing of so simple a thing as running up a slippery track , through a narrow cut , n the teeth of a blinding storm , to givo me warning of danger . I have no doubt he would have risked his life

for me—that he did risk his life for me ! But tho strange thing about ifc is the unanswered—tho seemingly unanswerable—pair of questions : Where did he come from , and where did he go ?

When they put me in charge of the engine of tho special , yesterday afternoon , tho special carrying the officers of the road , with their families , and with half a hundred invited guests , I was as proud a man as you ever knew ; not many of their engineers would have been so trusted and

honoured . 1 did not mind tho night-ride , nor care for tho storm I saw was gathering , and I had no fears and no cares—neither for the present nor the future . Full of tho vigour of life , I had forgotten , for a little , to study and brood over my old unanswered riddle of tho centuries : " If a man die , shall ho live again ?"

You know I never drink . You know I am not an

imaginative fellow . Yon know I never slept on my engine , not for a moment ; you know I am morally incapable of neglect of duty . But , were the opposite true , I will ask you to tell me , if you can , how a man in my position could have nodded or dozed ? I had been oiF duty for a week ,

and going to bed regularly ; so thero was not tho excuse of utter weariness and overwork—an exouso that might justly be urged , even oftener than it is , if railroad corporations were not lucky . Besides , there was the storm , tho

pride of my job , and the imperative orders to remember I had an absolutely clear track nnd to average sixty miles an hour . Ifc would be absurd to . suppose I dreimt a man came up the track and stopped me !

I had not thought of Oscar Felton for years . I did not think of him then . If I had any uneasy thoughts afc nil , they were of you . You see I wondered what troubled you . When I came in sight of your . station , I was running a mile a minute . I did nofc decrease speed in the least ,