Vvi " <
Bff THE LITTLE WHITE HEARSE.
Bfj james wnrrcosm iulev.
Hl v .As tho littlo whito hoarso went glimmering
9R Tho man on tho coal cart jerked his lines ,
H And smutted tho lid of olther eye ,
S - ' And turned and stared at tho business
1 Bicrns ;
9 § And tho street car driver stopped and
91 beat
9 ft His hands on his shoulders and pared
H } up street
9 Till his o.yo on the long track reached
H ( tho sky
y As tho little whito hcarso wont Rllm-
91 moriug by.
HD As the littlo whito hcarso went glimmering
k * y
Rt A stranger potted a ragged child
H ! n the crowded walk , and sbo know not
J why ,
Hfi And ho gave her a coin for tho way sho
K3 smiled ;
3 And a bootblack thrilled with a pleas-
91 ul * ° strange
9. ! As a customer garo back his change
H J With a kindly Hand and a grateful sigh ,
d As tho littlo whito hoarse went glim-
91 moring by.
91 As the littlo white hcarso wont glimmering
' 1 by
2 A man looked out of a window dim ,
H j And his cheeks wero wet and his heart was
Rs dry
l or a dead child even wero dear to him !
J And ho thought of his empty lifo and
H said :
H | ' 'Loveless olive and loveless dead
B Nor wifonor child in earth or sky ! "
91 As tho littlo whito hearse went glim-
K mcring by.
Hj OURROBIN.
Hl CHAPTER I ( Continued ) .
Hj While I am laughing * at the det cr
Hf mined and oven aggressive way in
1 which this announcement is made ,
Hj there cornea a loud ring at the hall
H door. Aunt Louisa looks at me , and
H gives me a knowing little nod John
H sighs and I try rather unsuccessfully
K to look unconscious. I have only been
Hj engaged for a fortnight , and am not
Hj quite used to the situation yet this is
9j why I want Robin to come and stay
B with me. I want some one at hand in
Hl whom I can confide. Aunt Louisa is
9f very kind and vcy well-intentioned ,
H | but she is a trifle too practical to be
Hj sympathetic ; and of course ' I cannot
9 oven mention my love to John it
9 would seem quite cruel and heartless.
9 \fj | As Harry enters the room now , with
9 * * his firm tread-and deep-toned voice , he
B | brings with him a gust of tho outer
9 freshness. His features are not finely
B chieelled , like those of my brother ,
9 but he has a frank genial face , bronz-
B ed by continual exposure to the ele-
B monts. Alas for my future peace of
M mind , this lover of mine is in the
m Navy ! And very proud the Navy
M should be of such a gallant officer , is
9 inythought when I glance at his curly
H golden beard and tali stalwart form.
B Before he has been two minutes in
H our midst , our usually quiet walls are
H ochoing with mirth and laughter. My
9 disposition is naturally quiet ; but Har-
1 ry's high spirits are in&etious ; and , if
H I have not the power of cheatingcheer-
H fulness , I can at least reflect it. I do
M not let my lover's jokes fall flat , which
B . they inevitable would do were only
H aunt Louisa and John present.
M He tells us th9 news of the day ,
| H drives my Persian puss wild by ira-
m itating the note of various birds , and
B then just when he is at the most tell-
H ing point of an amusing story I no-
B f ice that John rises and moves quietly
H from the room.
B Harry only remain s for twenty min-
H utes , yet I feel ten years lifted from
M my shoulders by the time he leaves.
B "I wonder , " muses aunt Louisa
H aloud , as soon as his back is ' turned
H "I wonder very much how it was that
M z Harry came to choose you ? He is so
H • lively himself , and you , my love , are
m -such a quiet little thing. "
B "Indeed I am not ! On the contrary ,
H I consider myself very lively , " is my
H nettled and over-truthful answer.
9 "That is" correcting mself "I
9 should be lively if I had a chance ; only
9 one can't very well be facetious all
9 alone. "
9 I should think that your friend ,
B JMiss "Wolstencroft , and Harry are
B "likely to become great friends , " con- ' ,
B "tinues aunt , thoughtfully. * " " '
B "Well , yes , I suppose so , " I acquice
B rafter a moment's reflection.
B And then I wonder vaguely what
Bv -induces aunt Louisa so frequently to
H make remarks which clash somehow
H with one's feelings. It is not want of
H .heart , I am sure ; it must be simply
B .want of tact.
#
H CHAPTERH.
B Robin is tired enough after her
B twelve hours' journey , and accepts
B with alacrity aunt Louisa's proposal
B that she shall go to bed at once ; so I
B see little of her on the evening of her
B arrival.
M The next morning however I am up
M betimes , quite half an hour earlier
1 than was my wont. When dressed , I
H " tap at Robin's door very softly , to
H know whether she is awake.
M "Come in , " cries her cheery voice ;
B and entering I find myself clasped by
B a pair of powerful young arms and
B nearly smothered with kisses.
B "Oh , dear , " I exclaim , as , breath-
B less , I extricate myself from her ener-
B getia embrace , , "why you are as much
B Uke a bear as ever ! I bave , not ex-
B perienced such a hug as that since I
B leftschooL"
H "Rohin opens her laughing hazel
H oyes very wide.
H * "Why , " she says , in tones of won-
H dor , "I thought you told me you were
H ! "
engaged - • ,
H "And so I am , " I answer smiling ,
"but not to a Polar bear. ' " l
B "Ah , no , Dame Frigid ! This is the
B style of young man ; I can picture him
B just so ! " and , taking my hand , she
B raises it slowly to her lips , sinking
B meanwhile on her left knee and plac-
B ing her right hand sentimentally ou
aeart
' "That is not in the least the style of
* _ * ungrman , " I return with dignity ;
J * Vandlf you are golng 'to make fun of
my engagement well , I won't tell you
* a word about Harry ! "
* "Yes , you will , my dear , " says Rob
in authoritatively , and dropping her
mocking tone. "I must hear every
detail from beginning to end what
. * * be said , and what you said , and every-
t thing. "
ft "Oh , will you , mademoiselle ? "
jv . think I to myself ; but I only remark
, - -aloud , "You seem to have recovered
P- * from tho fatigue of your journey. "
| | r- "Quite so , " assents Bobin , "though
tr . from Yorkshire to Devonshire is a
k auch greater stretch than it looks on
f he map. "
jjf * Are you ready to come down ? " I
-tw , seeing that her toilette is about
jp ' -jomplete. . "Because , if so , we will
I
' * " ' . * = , ,
as'a - • -
V- , / ' f M - -t I 'W ' jlilllWWM" ! Mil 1 1 , I
*
* ' - "A " ' " ' ' " " "i-- ! ' ' " • • til' ' " ! " '
V
t
have a run round the garden before
breakfast. " . , . ,
"Delightful ! " agrees Bobin. " 1
have only my locket to put on. Thco !
Shall I do ? "
I think her perfection , and frankly
toll her so , at which sho laughs im
moderately.
"Now , I3eo Bee" 4Beo Bee1 is hor
pet name forme "don'ttalk nonsonso
or begin fishing for compliments. I
haven't a single good feature in my
faco , and you know it ; whilst you
well , you have a Grecian nose and a
rosebud mouth and everything else
that is adorable. "
"Yes , and not an atom of expres
sion , " I remark discontentedly.
"On tho contrary , I have seen you
look frightfully cross at times , " an
swers Bobin honestly. "But really , "
she continues , smiling as she re-ar
ranges one of tho saucy little curls tha4-
clustor round her white forehead , "I
can't see tho use of quarreling with
our faces ; it is a great waste of time
this lovely morning. "
Then she gives me another hug , not
quite so overpowering as hor first
specimen or perhaps I am becoming
used to it and , arm linked in arm ,
we go down the broad staircase anil
through the glass side-door into tho
garden.
We live in a rambling old house
covered with flowering creepers. The
grounds are quaintly laid out , and tho
flower-beds overflowing with old-fash
ioned , sweet-smelling flowers.
"I never saw a garden like this be
fore , " cried Robin , her eyes full of ad
miration , as sho darts from bed to bed ,
gathering here and there stray blos
soms , until she holds in her hand quite
a bouquet
"What are you going to do with
them ? " I asked , feeling a little jealous
of the flowers ; for I have not been used
of late to put up with divided attention.
"Oh , dear ! " cries Robin , full of con
trition. "I only meant to gather one
for my button-hole , and , see , I have
pulled a whole handful ! Have I done
any harm ? "
"Of course not , " I reply , laughing
at hor consternation. "Nobody wants
the flowers ; they look pretty growing ,
but flowers are such a bother to ar
range ; we very rarely have any in the
house. Aunt Louisa does not care for
them much , and I am far too lazy to
attend to them regularly. "
"Bee Bee , excuse me , but I really
think you are a heathen ! " says Robin
solemnly. "You are just smothered
in sweet blossoms untilyouhavo ceased
to appreciate them. Listen ! Does
your aunt dislike flowers ? "
"Dislike them ? Oh , no ! I don 't
suppose any sane person could dislike
them. "
"Well , then , if you don't object , I
shall keep the house full of flowers
during my visit. May I ? "
"Certainly , if it will be any pleasure
to you. "
"Any pleasure ! " repeats Robin , with
spcrkling eyes. "Why , J love flowers
I dote on them ! " and she carries
the bunch in her hand enthusiastically
to her lips.
"In that case , " I say , trying to take
an interest in that which so evidently
affords her pleasure , "let us arrango
some at once for tho breakfast table , "
So we return to the house ; and
Robin settles her flowers to her satis
faction in a quaint old dragon vase ,
whilst I sit beside her on one of the
hall chairs , and we chat incessantly of
the past.
Our work is only just finished in
time ; for aunt Louisa enters the room
just as Robin retires from placing them
on the breakfast table. She turns to
meet my aunt with such a winning
smile , and so evidently expects a morn
ing kiss , that , to my surprise , sho gets
it""Are
"Are you quite rested , dear ? " is
aunt's greeting ; and her tone is as full
of soliciVide as if she had known Robin
for years.
My friend answers in the affirmative ;
she looks so full of spirits and anima
tion that aunt Louisa pursues doubt
fully , . „ ' < T
' " "I hope Blanche will bo ' able to find1 '
amusement for you ; we are a very quiet
home party. "
Robin makes a little grimace.
"I hope Blanche won't try , "i she re
plies , with a merry shake of her head.
"I think there is no more dreary work
on earth than being amused. If I may
just potter about and amuse myself , I
shall be perfectly happy. May I ?
Please don't make a sti'anrger of me , or
I shall be almost miserable ; " and she
looks coaxingly up into aunt Louisa ' s
face.
face."Who
"Who could ? " asks my aunt , glanc
ing back with a smile into Robin's f ran k
eyes.
Just at this moment John enters the
room. It is the first time that Robin ;
and he have met , for he was fastened
Ln his study when she arrived last :
night. As I porform tho introduction ,
[ note how they scan each other nar- '
rowly ; his largo gray eyes are fixed
upon her thoughtfully and solemnly , '
whilst her keen hazel ones fill with an '
expression half wondering and can it > '
be ? half mirthful. Tney simply bow I
to each other across the table , for my I
brother is always reserved and cold to '
3trangers. '
How different that meal is from our J
ordinary morning repast at Podmore ! i
& .s a rule , our conversation , never gets '
beyond demands for food and a few '
aimless observations respecting the '
sveather ; but on the present occasion i
there seems a perpetual flow of small
talk. Robin , who never in all her life ]
before has taken so long a joui'ney
alone , has . .met with some amusing '
traveling companions. Her descrip- '
Hon of them is enlivening , and given 1
with just that harmless touch of malice < '
which adds piquancy to the common- <
place incidents of life. Beforo break
fast is half over , a most unprecedented i
ihing occurs. Aunt Louisa's tea-cup
s twice interrupted on its < way to her 1
ips by a fit of laughter. - 1
John says nothing , but continues to
consume his dry toast in solemn J
silence ; once or twice I catch his earn- '
jst eyes fixed upon Robin with a puzi
sled look there is even a lurking
jleam of contempt in their expression , i
lothing more. 1
1 'You must be very strong , my dear , " i
) bserved aunt Louisa , looking with
jvident approval at nry frientL's rosy <
• heeks. "I quite expected you to be J
mocked up by such a long journey ,
md meant you to spend all the morn-
ng in bed. "
"Not the first morning , surely ! " .
aughs Robin , glancing up archly , (
"Why , you must imagine that I am .
luite devoid of curiosity ! Remember ,
i
i k
r , -w . _ .
„ c.
I have never been in Devonshire be
fore. I feel like Christopher Colum
bus when ho landed in tho New World.
I Have everything to see. "
"Take an egg , " I say , pushing the
stand towards her.
Sho looks somehow as if Bho could
manage ono , though I know perfectly
well she has only just finished a large
plate , of ham.
"I am perfectly ashamed of my ap
petite , " declares Robin , as she cracks
the shell with a compunctious sigh.
"You don't seem to eat anything ,
Blanche. "
"No , " I answer carelessly ; "we aro
not great people at breakfast. ' *
"Or luncheon , or dinner , " adds
aunt Louisa impatiently."The fact
is , both she and John havo f spoilt their
appetites by strong tea. It will be
quite a treat to have some one to keep
mo in countenance at my meals , " sho j
continues , smiling over at Robin ; '
"for those two ethereal creatures , who ,
are content with tea and toast , look on
mo , I know , as a dreadful gourmand. " j
"Oh , auntie ! " I exclaim , whilst
John also mutters some confused words
of dissent.
"I am too old-fashioned to try living
on air , or to become a vegetarian , "
continues aunt Louisa , who , now that
she has started an ally , seems deter
mined to give us a bit of her mind.
"But wo are not vegetarians " at
least , I am not , " I protest.
"You aro both of you next door to
it , " asserts my aunt stoutly.
I am just wondering how I can
change a subject which'always leads
to a useless war of words , when Robin
interrupts most opportunely
"Do you ever dream , Miss Crick ? "
"Do I ever dream ? " repeats aunt
Louisa , suspecting poor Robin of a
covert meaning in the observation.
"I suppose you mean , do I Buffer from
indigostion ? "
"No ; I don't think dreams are , as a
rule , caused by indigestion , because I
dream nearly overy night of my life ,
and my digestive organs are in perfect
form. Surely dreams must spring
from our imagination. "
"Decidedly , " assents John , with an
emphatic nod of his head.
My brother , as * a rule , does not take
the slightest notice of pur trivial fem
inine conversation , so that aunt Lodxsa
and I sit and stare at him in open as
tonishment , whilst Robin at once turns
her attention in his direction.
"I am glad that you agree withme , "
she says. "Most people will insist
that dreams and eating are connected ,
and it is such a prosaic solution to the
beautiful mystery of dream-land. "
"Dreams are inspirations , " says
John , slowly and solemnly , as if he
were announcing an authenticated fact ,
respebting which there could be no
second opinion.
Robin looks at him hard for a few
moments ; then she says in her clear ,
hearty , reasoning tones
"Oh , I don't go so far as that ! Sure
ly one can't call all the nonsense one
dreams inspiration ! Tho imagination ,
set loose , simply takes a littlo canter
on its own account , without Dame
Reason to keep it in check. We travel
ii into fairy-land every night , and
it freshens us after the daily struggle
with our matter-of-fact world. "
John looks disappointed.
"Then you don't believe that dreams
are prophetic ? " he asks.
"As a rule , certainly not , " answers
Robin , in some astonishment , "though
it is my belief , " she continues thought
fully , "that in some instances people
are warned by dreams , even as they
were in the days of old. "
"My dear what gross supersti
tion ! " interposes aunt Louisa , evident
ly shocked.
"I am sure that is not superstition , "
answers Robin simply. "I know sev-
aral instances in which people have
been prepared for a great blow by be
ing forewarned in the shape of a
Iream. "
"Oh , stop , please ! " interrupts my
lunt , shivering. "You make me shud-
ler with your nonsense. Of course , \
sometimes the things one dreams of .
nay really happen ; but , if so , it is a .
nere coincidence. "
"I quite agree with you that the ;
generality of dreams count for i
nothing , " returns Robin brightly.
"Now take for instance my dream last ,
light it could have no meaning ? " •
"What was your dream ? " asks John i
sarnestly.
Robin smiles as she recalls it , and ' •
; he smile breaks almost into a laugh <
is she begins. ;
"I suppose sleeping in a strange '
) ed-room must have spurred my imi i
tgination to unusual activity. I dreamt -
here was a mouse in the room. " :
"It may not have been a dream at
ill , " interposes aunt Louisa scoffingly , j
'the house literally swarms with ,
nice. " :
"But this was such an extraordi- |
tary mouse , " objects Robin calmly. ]
'When , after many futile efforts , I :
succeeded in catching ity it turned to a •
iny luminous ball in my hand , and ,
isked me , with a low laugh , what I :
iad caught. I answered evasively j
hat I had caught it. Then my hand j
sras stung quickly and sharply , as by i
i wasp ; so ] * ! dropped my captive withj j
tut delay. It fell upon the floor , where j
t rolled to and fro , asking again in its "
[ uavering voice , "What am IP" My '
mswer was to the effect that I neither ,
: new nor cared. 'I am a spirit , ' it ;
aid next. 'Why do you meddle with 3
pirits ? If you had not let me go I j
pould have burnt through your hand. ' j
? hen the shining ball gradually paled , 1
[ ickered and went out. That was the \
nd of my dream , " laughs Robin , "and l
think you must all agree that it was J
, bout as senseless and devoid of a sec- \
nd meaning as any dream could be. " ]
"Because it is not given to you to
ead its meaning , " says John ; and , a j
hade paler than usual , he rises from 1
lis chair suddenly , and leaves the 3
ireakfas 'tttable. ]
"I think , my dear , " remarks aunt 3
iOuisa , in her calm practical tones \
'we had better set .some traps in your |
. "
oom. j
"Traps ! On no account ; I am not <
a the least afraid of"mice. . It must •
iave been their scratching , I Buppose , s
rhich gave rise to my dream. " <
"Doubtless , " I agree. "We are j
verrun with mice ; that is why we
: eep such a number of cats. " I
( to be continued. ) j
"The warmest relations exist bei
ween us , and we are cemented , by the |
losest ties , " as the fellow said when
ie vainly tried to let go of the handles t
if a magnetic battery. [ <
*
" "
THE TABERNACLE PULPIT.
Dr. Talmage's Discourse on "The
Modnllarht Ride. "
The Glorious Rebuilding of-the City
of Jerusalem.
What Jerusalem Was to Nehemlah ,
the Church of God Is to You.
Skeptics and Infidels May Scoff at the
Church , But Their Imprecations
Availeth Not.
BnooKLTX , Marcn 17. At tho tabernaclo
this morning tho Rov. T. Da Witt Talmago ,
D. D. , expounded tho seventh chapter of
Ecclesiastes. Ho aftorwarda gave out tho
hymn beginning ,
Grace'tis ! a charming sound.
Harmonious to the ear ,
which was sung by tho vast congregation
with magnificent effect Tho subject of
Dr. Talmage's sermon was "The Moonlight
Ride , " and tho text , Nehcmiah ii,15 : "Then
I went up in tho night by tho brook , and
viewed tho wall , and turned back , and en
tered by the gato of tho valley , and so re
turned. " He said :
A dead city is more suggestive than a liv
ing city past. Romo than present Rome
ruins rather than newly Irescoed cathedral.
But tho best time to visit a ruin is by moon
light. The Coliseum is far more fascina
ting to tho traveler after sundown than bo-
foro. You may stand by daylight amid tho
monastic ruins of Melrose Abbey , and study
shafted oriel , and rosetted stone and mul-
lion , but they throw their strongest witch
ery by moonlight Some of you remember
what the enchanter of Scotland said in the
"Lay of the Last Minstrel : "
Woulilst thou view fair Melrose aright ,
Go visit It iiy the pale moonlight.
Washington Irving describes tho Andalu-
sian moonlight upon tho Alhambra ruins as
amounting to an enchantment. My text
presents you Jerusalem in ruins. Tho tower
down. . Tho gates down. The walls down.
Everything down. Nehemiah on horseback ,
by moonlight looking upon tho ruins.
While he rides , there are some friends on
foot going with him , for they do not want
the many horses to disturb the suspicions of
the people. These peoplo do not know the
secret of Neheiniah's heart , but they are go
ing as a sort of body guard. I hear the
clicking hoofs of the horse on which
Nehemiah ride3 , as ho guides it this way and
that , into this gate and out of that , winding
through that gate amid tho debris of once
great Jerusalem. Now tho horso comes to
a dead halt at tho masonry where ho cannot
pass. Now ho shies off at the charred tim
bers. Now he comes along where tho water
under the moonlight flashes from tho mouth
of the brazen dragon after which the gato
tvas named. Heavy hearted Nehemiah !
Riding in and out , now by his old home deso
lated , now by tho defaced temple , now amid
the scars of tho city that had gono down
under battering ram and conflagration.
The escorting party knows not what
Nehemiah means. Is he getting
srazyS Havo his own personal sor
rows , added to tho sorrows of the
nation , unbalanced his intellect ? Still
the midnight exploration goes on. Nehe
miah on horseback rides through tho flsh
? ate , by the tower of tho furnaces , by the
liins's pool , by the dragon well , in and out ,
in and out , until the midnight ride is com
pleted , and Nehemiah dismounts from his
Horse , and to the amazed and confounded
md incredulous body guard , declares tho
lead secret of his heart when ho says ,
'Come , now , let us build Jerusalem. "
'What , Nehemiah , have you any money J"
'No. " "Have you any kingly authority ? "
'No. " "Have you any eloquence ? " "No. "
5Tet that midnight , moonlight ride of Nehe-
niah resulted in the glorious rebuilding of
; he city of Jerusalem. The people knew
lot how the thing was to bo done , but with
jreat enthusiasm they cried out , "Let us
: ise up now and build the city. " Some
jeople laughed and said it could notbe done.
Some people were infuriate and offered
jhysical violence , saying tho thing
ihould not be done. But the workmen
; vent right on , standing on the wall ,
rowel in one hand , sword in the other ,
intil the work was gloriously completed. At
; hat very time , in Greece , Xenophon was
vriting a history , and Plato was making
milosopby , and Demosthenes was rattling
lis rhetorical thunder , but all of them to-
; ether did not do so much for the world as
bis midnigh moonlight ride of prying ,
: ourageous , homesick , close nftuthed
Nehemiah.
My subject first impresses me with the
dea what an intense thing is church affec-
ion. Seize the bridle of that horse and stop
STohemiah. Why are you risking your life
iereinthenijrhti Your horso will stumble
> ver these ruins and fall on you. Stop this
iseless exposure of your life. No ; Nehe-
niah will not stop. He at last tells us the
vhole story. He lets us know he was an
ixile in a far distant land , and he was a
ervant , a cup bearer in the palace of Ar-
axertes Longimanus , and one day while he
vas handing the cup of wine to the king ,
he kind said to him , "What is the matter
vith you ? You are not sick. I know you
nust have had some great trouble. What
s the matter with you J" Then he told the
ring how that beloved Jerusalem was knock-
in down , how that his father's tomb had
> een desecrated ; how that the temple had
teen dishonored and defacetrj how that the
vails was scattered and broken. "WellJ"
ays King Artaxerxes , "what do you
rant ? " "Well , " said the cup bearer Nehe- i
aiah , "I want to go home. 1 want to fix up
he grave of my lather. I want to restore
ho beauty of the temple. I want to re- ' .
luild the masonry of the city wall. Besides ,
want passports so that I shall not be hin
dered in my journey. And besides that , "
a you will find in the context , "I want an '
rder on the man who keeps your forest for
ust so much timber as I may need for the
ebuilding of the city. " "How long shall 1
ou be gone ? " said the king. The time of ,
bsence is arranged. In hot haste this :
eeming adventurer comes to Jerusalem ,
nd in my text we find him on horseback , in
he midnight , riding around the ruins. It . '
3 through the spectacles of thiB scene that
re discover the ardent attachment of
Tehemiah for sacred Jerusalem , which in
II ages has been tho type of the church of '
Sod. our Jerusalem , which we love just as '
luch as Nehemiah loved his Jerusalem. ]
? he fact is that you love the church of God
o much that there is no spot on earth so
acred , unless it is your own fireside. The "
hurch has been to you so much comfort :
nd illumination that there is nothing that 1
lakes you so irate as to havo it talked i
gainst , if there have been times when i
ou havo been carried into captivity i
y sickness , you longed for the church , <
ur holy Jerusalem , just as much as si
Jehemiah longed for his Jerusalem , and <
he first day you came out you came to the . ]
ouse of tho Lord. When the Temple was ]
a ruins as ours was years ago , like Nehe- :
liah , you walked around and looked at it , i
nd in the moonlight you stood listening if i
ou could not hear the voice of the dead i
rgan , the psalm of the expired Sabbaths , i
Vhat Jerusalem was to Nehemiah , the 1
hurch of God is to you. Skeptics and in- i
dels may scoff at the church as an obsolete 1
ffair , as a relic of the dark ages , as a con- <
ention of goody goody people , but all the i
npression they have ever made on your i
lind against the church of God is absolute- 1
7 nothing. You would make more sacrii i
ces for it to-day than for any other institu- (
ion , and if it were needful you would die ;
i its defense. You can take the words of i
lie kincty poet as ho said , "If I forjret ;
tiee , O "Jerusalem , let my right hand for- '
et her cunning. " You understand in your (
wn experience the pathos , the homesick-
ess , tho courage , the holy enthusiasm of :
Tehemiah in his midnight , moonlight ride 1
round the ruins of his beloved Jerusalem. 1
Again , my text impresses mo with the i
ict that before reconstruction thero must l
o an exploration of ruins. Why was not ;
Tehemiah asleep under the covers ! Why 1
: as not his horse stabled in tho midnight ? i
.etthe police of the city arrest this midnight (
idee out on some mischief. No. Nehemiah (
going to rebuild the city , and he is maki
lg the preliminary oxploration. In this i
ate , out that gatet east , west , north , south. ]
III through the ruins. The ruins must bo t
xplored before tho work of reconstruction 1
an begin. The reason that so many ueople 1
i this day , apparently converted , do not (
tay converted is because they did not first \
splore the ruins of their own heart. The
jason tbat there are so many professed i
Ihristians who in this day lio and forge and i
teal , and commit adultery , and go to the <
enitentinry , is because they do not learn t
ie ruin of their own heart. They have not 1
rand out that "the heart is deceitful above 1
U things , and desperately wicked. " They t
ad an Idea that they were almost right , 1
ad they built relieion as a sort of extent
ion , as an ornamental cupola. Thero was t
superstructure of religion built on a sub- *
tratum of unrepeuted sins. The trouble c
ritb. a good deal of modern theolo- ]
y is that instead of building on j
I.
i i - . . -i m -i- i . l i r i i i i i i
'
J * 4 *
tho right foundation , it builds on the debris
of an unregeneratod nature. They attempt
to roDuild Jerusalem before , in tho midnight
of conviction , they havo seen tho ghastlf-
noss of tho ruin. They have such a poor
foundation for their religion that tho first
northern storm of temptation blows them
down. I havo no faith'in * a mar's • conver
sion if ho is not converted in the old fash
ioned way John Bunyan's way , John
Westley's way , John Calvin's way , Pauls
way , Christ's way , God's way. A dentist
onco said to mo , "Does that hurt ? " Said I ,
"Of course it hurts. It is in your business
as in my profession. Wo havo to hurt be
foro wo can help. " You will never under
stand redemption until you understand
ruin. A man tells me Unit some ono is a
member of tho church. It makes no im
pression on my mind at all. I simply want
to know whether ho was converted in the
old fashioned way , or whether he was con
verted In tho now fashioned way. If he
was converted in tho old : fashioned way ho
will stand. If he was converted in tho now
fashioned way ho will not stand. That i3
all there is about it. A man comes to mo
to talk about religion. The first question J.
ask him is , "Do you feel yourself to bo a
sinnor ? " If he says , ' 'Well , I yes , " tho
hesitancy makes me feel that that
man wants a ride on Nohomiah's
horso by midnight through tho ruins
in by tho gate of his affections , out
by tho gato of his will ; aud beforo he has
got through with that midnight ride ho will
drop tho reins on tho horse's neck , and will
take his right hand aud smite ou his heart
and say : "God be merciful to mo a sinner ; "
aud before ho has stabled his horse ho will
take his feet out of the stirrups , and will
slido down on tho ground , and he will kneel ,
crying , "Have mercy on me , O God , ac
cording unto thy loving kindness , according
unto the multitude of thy tender mercies ;
blot out my transgressions , for I acknowl
edge my transgressions and my sins are
ever before thee. " Ah , my friends , you
seo this is not a complimentary gospel.
That is what makes some people so mad. It
comes to a man of a million dollav < j and im
in his sins and "You're
penitent says , a pau
per. " It comes to a woman of fairest cheek ,
who has never repented , and says ,
"You're sinner. " It
a comes to a man
priding himself on his independence and
says , "You're bound hand and foot by the
devil. " It comes to our entire race and
says , "You're a ruin , a ghastly ruin , an il
limitable ruin. " Satan sometimes says to
me , "Why do you preach that truth ? Why
don't you preach a gospel with no repent-
anco in it ? Why don't you flatter men's
hearts so that you mako them feel all right ?
Why don't jrou preach humanitarian gospel
with no repentance in it , saying nothing
about the ruin , talking all the time about
redemption ? " I say , "Get the behind me ,
Satan. " I would rather lead five souls the
right way than twenty thousand tho wrong
way. The redemption of tho gospel is a per
fect farce if there is no ruin. "The whole
need not a physician , but they that are
sick. " "If any one , though ho be an angel
from heaven , preach any other than this , "
says tho apostle , "let him bo accursed. " '
There must ho the midnight ride over the
ruins before Jerusalem can be built. There
must be the clickihgof the hoofs before there
can bo the ringing of trowels.
Again. My subject gives me a specimen
of busy triumphant sadness. If there was
any man in the Avorld who had a right to
mope and give up everything as lost , it was
Nehemiah. You say , "He was a cup bearer
in the palace of Shushan , and it was a grand
place. " So it was. The hall of that palace
was two hundred feet square , and tho roof
hovered over thirty-six marble pillars , each
pillar sixty-feet high ; and the intenso blue
of the sky , and the deep green of tho forest
foliage , and the white of the driven snow ,
all hung trembling in the upholstery. But ,
my friends , you know very well that line
architecture will not put down homesick
ness. Yet Nehemiah did not give up. Then
when you see him going among theso deso
lated streets , and by the3C dismantled
towers , and by the torn up grave of
his father , you would suppose that
he would have been disheartened , and
that ho would have dismounted from his
horse and gone to his room and said : "Woe
is me ! My father's grave is torn up. The
Temple is dishonored. The walls are broken
down. I have no money with which to re
build. Iivishlhad never , been born , I
wish I were dead. " Not so says Nehemiah.
Although he had a grief so intense that it
excited the commentary of his king , yet that
penniless , expatriated Nehemiah rouses
himself up to rebuild the city. He gets his
permission of abscence. He gets his pass
ports. He hastens away to Jerusalem. By
night on horseback he rides through the
ruins. He overcomes the most ferocious
opposition. He arouses the piety and pat-
aiotism of the people , and in less than two ,
months , namely , in hfty-two days , Jerusa
lem was rebuilt. That's what I call busy
and triumphant sadness.
My friends , the whole temptation is with
you , when you have trouble , to do just the
opposite to the behavior of Nehemiah , and
that is to give up. You say , "I have lost my
child and can never smile again. " You say ,
• 'I have lost my property/and 1 never can
repair my fortunes. " You say I have fallen
in into sin , and I never can start again for a
new life. " If Satan can make you lorm that
resolution , and make you keep it , he has
ruined you. Trouble is not sent to crush
you , but to arouse you , to animate you , to
propel you. The blacksmith does not thrust
the iron into the forge and then blow away
with the bellows , and then bring the hot
iron out on the anvil and beat with stroke
after stroke to ruin the iron , but to prepare
it for better use. Oh that the Lord God
Df Nehemiah would rouse up all broken
hearted people to rebuild. Whipped ,
betrayed , shipwrecked , imprisoned
Paul went right on. The Italian
nartyr Algerius sits in his dun-
jeon writing a letter , and he
iates it "From the delectable orchard of tho
Leonine prison. " Th.it is what 1 call tri-
lmphant sadness. I knew a mother who
3uried her baby on Friday and on Sabb.ith
ippeared in tho house of God and said :
'Give me a class ; give me a Sabbath school
: lass. I have no child now left me. and I
ivould like to havo a class of little children ,
[ iive me real poor children. Give me a
ilass off the back street. " That , I say , is
aeautiful. That is triumphant sadness. At
J o'clock this afternoon , in a beautiful par-
or in Philadelphia a parlor pictured and
statuetted there will be from ten to twen
ty destitute children of the street. It has
jeen so every Sabbath afternoon at 3 o'clock
for many years. These destitute children '
receive religious instruction , concluding
, vith cakes and sandwiches. How do I
enow that that has been going on for
nany years ? I knew it in this way.
GKEED COIIED BV CHKISTIAX WORK.
That was the first home in Philadelphia
vhere I was called to comfort a great sor-
• ow. They had a splendid boy and he had
ieen drowned at Long Branch. The father
ind mother almost idolized the boy , and the
> ob and shriek of that father and mother as
hey hung over the coffin resound in my
; ars to day. There seeme.1 to be no use of
iraying , for when I knelt down to pray , the
mtery " "in the room drowned out ail the
> rayer. But the Lord comforted that sor-
• ow. They did not forget their trouble. If
• ou should go on the snowiest winter af ter-
loon into Laurel Hill you would find a
nonument with the word "Walter" inscrib-
; d upon it , and a wreath of fresh flow ers
iround the name. I think there has not
> een an bour all these years , winter or sum-
ner , when there was not a wreath of fresh
lowers around Walter's name. But the '
Christian mother who sends those
lowers there , having no child left ,
Sabbath afternoons mothers ten or
wenty of the lost ones of the {
itreet. That is beautiful. That is what I .
: ali busy and triumphant sadness. Here is
l man who has lost nis property. He does
lot go to hard drinking. He does not de- :
itroy his own life He comes and says :
'Harness me for Christain work My nion-
> y' gone. I have no treasures or. earth. I
vant treasures in heaven. I have a voice \
md a heart to praise God. " ' You say that .
hat man has failed. He has not failed he
las triumphed. Oh , I wisli I could persuade (
ill the peoplo who have any kind of trouble
(
tever to srive up. 1 wish they would look
it the midnijiht rider of the text , and that '
he four hoofs of that beast on which Nehe-
niah rodo might cut to pieces all your dis-
ouragements and hardships and * tna's.
5ive up ! Who is going to give up , '
vhen on the bosom of God he can have
ill his troubles hushed J Give up !
• ever think of giving up. Are you borne i
iown with poverty J A littlo child was .
bund holding her dead mother's hand in
he darkness of a tenement house , and some 3
mo cominir in , the little girl looked up ,
vhile holding her dead mother's hand , and ]
aid , "Oh , I do wish that God had made i
aore light for poor folks. " My dear , God J
nil be your light. God will be your shelter , '
Sod will bo your home. Are you borne 1
[ own with the bereavements of life ? Is the (
iousc lonely now that the child is gone ? .
) o not give up. Think of what tho old sex- 1
on said when the minister asked him why j
ie put so much care on the little graves in
ho cemetery so much more care than on
ho larger graves , and the old sexton said ,
'Sir , vou fcnow that 'of such is the king-
lom o " f heaven , ' and I think the Saviour is 1
( leased when he sees so much white clover <
growing around these little graves. " But j
" "
' -J j r ' . , ' . ; • : , , * yf , ' v1
' " ' ' " ! ' * i n i-- - i
_ _ . , _
_ _
T
when tho minister pressed tho old sexton
for a more satisfactory answer , tha old
sexton said. "Sir , about theso larger
graves , I don't know who arc tho
Lord's saints and who aro not ; but you
know , sir , it is clean different with tho
bairns. " Oh , if you havo had that keen ,
tender , indCscnbablo sorrow tbat comes
from tho loss of a child , do notgivoup. Tho
old soxton was right. It Is all well with the
bairns. Or , if you have sinned , if you havo
sinned grovlously sinned until you havo
been cost out by society , do not give up.
Perhaps thero may bo in this houso ono
that could truthfully utter tho lamentation
of another :
Onoj I was puro as the snow , but I fell
Fell lllce a snowflakf. from heaven to hell
Fell , to bo trampled ni flitu la tho street
Fell , to be rcolTcd at , an t on and beat ;
l'mylnir. cursing ; wishing to die.
Selling uiT soul to whoever would buy.
Dealing In shnmi for a inor > eI of bread ,
liat.nKtbe living and fearing the doid.
Do not give up. Ono like unto tho Son
of God comes to you to-day , saying , "Go
and Bin no moro. " while ho cries out
to your assailants , "Let him that Is without
sin cast tho first stone at her. " Oh ! thero
is no reason why any ono in this liouso , by
reason of any trouble or sin , should givo up.
Are you a foroigncr , and in a strange land ?
Nehemiah was an exile. Aro you ponni-
'less ? Nehcmiab was poor. Aro you home
sick ? Nehemiah was homesick. Aro you
broken hoarted ? Nehemiah wa3 broken
hearted. But just seo him in tho text ,
riding along the sacriloged gravoof his
father , and by tho dragon well , aud
through tho fish gato , and by tho king's
pool , in and out , in and out , tho moonlight
falling on tho broken masonry , which
throws a long shadow at which tho horso
sines , and at tho sanio time that moonlight
kindling up tho features of this man till you
see not only tho mark of sad reminiscence ,
but the courage , the hope , tho enthusiasm
of a man who knows that Jerusalem will bo
rebuilded. I pick you up to-day out of your
sins and out of your sorrow , aud I put you
against tho warm heart of Christ. "Tho
eternal God is thy refuge , and underneath
arc the everlasting arms. "
Devoured Its Tail.
Mr. James N. Aldridgc , a well-known
bachelor of Marksbury , a village a fow
miles north of Lancaster , Ky. , owns a
handsome bull terrier , of which ho is
very fond. Ho had trained it carefully ,
and taught it a number of interesting
tricks , one of which was to spin rapid- ,
ly around in the middle of tho room
endeavoring to catch its tail.
In its earlier exercise tho dog would
simply catch its tail in its mouth play
fully and without injury. Later it
would seize tho appendage with such
violence that the hair was pulled out
and the blood began to How. Mr.
Aldridge then tried in various ways to
break the dog of tho habit , as he was
annoyed at the bloodstains around tho
hoifse. At one lime he tied it out in
tho barn with a stout cord' , and lie kept
it thero for a week. But when released
it l-encwed with its former zeal its
chase after its tail. It would engage
in these gyratory movements several
times a day , snapping off small bits of
its tail , and growling and barking as if
in pursuit of some deadly foe.
Mr. Aldridge , unwilling to see tho
dog maim itself further , bound tho
stump tightly with a cloth , over which
ho smeared tar. But the dog soon tore
this off and continued tho strange aud
cruel mutilation. So frequent and
savage have these attacks been of lato
that nothing now remains of the tail
but the merest apology in the shape of
a torn and bleeding stump , a scant half
inch in length. It used to be eight'
inches long. The shorter the append
age became the greater the ditliculty
the dog had in reaching it with his
mouth , until now it is only in move
ments of almost incredible swiftness
that he succeeds in nipping it with his j
teeth. He never attempts this except
when spinning around in the manner
described , and it is thought that ho
will not discontinue the habit until
there is no longer any portion of his
tail to amputate.
.
• '
Average Humanity.
The average weight of male adults
is 130 pounds ; of women , about
110 pounds , says .the Medical Kecord.
The average height of American re
cruits is about 5 feet 9 inches. The
average height of well-built men is 5
feet 9 inches ; of women 5 feet 4 inches.
One inch of height should add two
pounds to weight. The specific gravity
af the body ranges from 0.950 to 1.030.
The heart weighs 260 grammes in wo
men and 330 grammes (10 } ounces ) in !
men : the average weight is 292 '
grammes. The period of maximum |
weight is between 50 and 80. (
The amount of blood in the body is .
jne-thirteenth the weight of the bodyj '
nlive or six quarts , or eleven or j
, welve pounds. A man dies when he '
las lost a fifth of his blood. The heart :
.vith . each contraction ejects six 1
> unces of blood from each ventricle , 1
it a pressure in the left ventricle of i
me-fourth of an atmosphere. The i
leart sends all the blood lound tho |
jody twice every minute , or in about :
; hirty-five contractions. A deadly .
loison ejected into a vein kills in |
if teen seconds , on the average ; inject-
jd under the skin , in four minutes. A ,
; ubic milimeter of blood contains 5-
)00,000 ) blood cells in men , and 4.500-
)00 ) in women. There are 300 red cells {
; o every one white blood cell. The red {
jells have an aver.ige diameter of '
) ne-thirty-two-thousandth inch , the ;
vhite cells of Dne-twenty-five-thou- i
.andth . inch. The specific gravity of i
he blood is 1,055. The frequency of t
lie pulse in the new born is 150 ; in f
nfaiits of one year , 110 : at two years , [
15 ; at seven to fourteen years , 85 ; in (
he adult man , 72 : woman , 80. The •
• espirations are one-fourth as rapid as
he pulse. .
Her Private Code. j
nis daughter was going to Europe. .
Ie is a very rich man , but a millionj j
lire will always make up a telegraphic r
: ode to save money. It would be nothj
ng to him if she sent one hundred ' i
vords , but he will always get as much 5
is he can for nothing any way , and he 3
rill have a telegraph code. I don't a
mow , though. Perhaps he thought
he might take as many words to say
1 thing by telegraph as ladies ordina-
ily do in conversation , and that would *
lankruot a millionaire. Let us acquit
dm of economy. .
Let us say that by confining her to
me word he would understand what a
he telegraphed , whereas , if he left her 0
o express it her own way he might ii
icver have found out what she meant , w
Ie left her to make out the code. She PJ
nade one quite to the point on all im- g
lortant matters. She selected the
rord herself , wrote it all out and „
landed it to him when she left. He lt
ocked it in his desk and it was all
ight , ?
Last week he got a telegram from u
ler. It consisted of one word , "Laugh. "
Ie laughed. It seems to be something - * -
uite pleasant. His code was at the tl
iouse. He went up there in the best si
f humor. He got out the code and he r <
ead : "Laugh Send me $500. San n
' rancisco Chronicle. a
•
The cost of living in this country is gradci
ally becoming cneaper. A man can now gj
et his boots blacked for 5 cents and bis „
blacked for nothic . Norristown
yea ? Hern \
C ]
Id
" ' " - " ' 'Ki JMMMMWv * . - - - . . .
. . 1 llinmil mmil i ijn.ilik. * sm *
' * • - * C * * - x4 < - 7 > * 4tlwt " > - *
Z * * _ llLl"Y' ' ' ' "Vs * " " _ - . 4 * . '
' ' • • " m. . "naaj
„ . .nwm 1 'him 1 1
. . . -niirT. -'TniiirTfnrmmi 1 1 ' _ . j
Turing f * * . i I
Secretary Colman , bead of the a- j j
ricultural department , iaamoHineriBfe \
and ventriloquist of remarkable i •
power : He entertains himself and ' • 1
friends with exhibitions ofhia curious ? - |
gifts. r %
"What a wonderful painter Itubens ' |
was ! " remarked Merrltfc at tho art | j
galary. "yes , " assented Cora. "It ( |
is said of him that ho could chance g
a laughing face into a sad one by a # * i • | '
3inglo stroke. " "Why , " spoke up * 9
little Johnnie , in disgust , "my school. M
teacher can do that. " , ) (
Two ladies from the westhappened |
to scrnpe an acquaintance whilo , jl
lvaiting for connecting trains nt the f
} Jroad street station recently. , |
"How long 1ms your husband been Kj
lead ! " asked one. ' 'About a year , " } h
ivas tho reply. "You are still a W
ividow ! " "Yes. Ilis estate ain't ' | |
settled yet. PhiladelphhvRocord. # j
A gentleman , addressing tho schol 1
irs of a large school observed among ' *
Sho decorations an American llagand j ,
said : "Children , can any of youtell me j (
.vhy that Hag wns hung there ? " "To
aide the dirt , " quicklyresponded' 4 •
sharp boy who had assisted in mak- | r
ng the preparations for the occasion. j
A woman who went out toBurmah j j
is a missionary converted a native I 1
as soon as she arrived , and then J 1
.married him. "When tho next batch /I / {
Df female miss 'ionaries arrived , the I
male natives took to tho woods j 11
again illustrating tho axiom that I 1
' 'self-preservation is the first law of 1
nature. " 1
Charitable old lady ( to little beg _ I
jar girl ) "There's some bread fur
you. It's a day or two old , but you ,
toll your mother to take three or M
four fresh eggs , quart of milk , a cup
of sugar , some good butter , and a
half grated nutmeg , and she can ,
make an excellent pudding of it. m
"And how are ye feelin' ter day , \m
.Mr. O'Bafferty ? " "I niver felt so
poorly in all me life , J'm too poor < m
to buy the necessaries of life. , I
If I had millions it's ivery cint ay * ' I
that I'd give to be a rich man. "
"If I owned the whole wurld I'd he M
willin' ter give it away for a little
pieoe of land an' a cabin that I could I
call me own. Jfl
"I'm goin' to be a soldier , ma , " B
when I grow up , " said Bobby , ns he fl
crawled into bed , "and light in wars fl
and battles. " "All right , Bobby. IM
now go to sleep. " In the morning fl
she shook him for the fourth time ( H
and said : "Bobby , you must get 1 9
up ; the idea of a soldier lying in bed H
at this hour ! " "Well , ma ? ' said fl
Bobby , "I've changed my mind '
about being a soldier. " fl
Some amusing incidents happen 9
at the civil service examinations 9
which the laws now require to be iH
passed by candiates for oilicial po- [ ' ]
sitions and clerkship. It was at an 'H
examination in Boston that a 9
youmr woman found herself confront- 19
ed with this question : "Are you ' 9
of good moral character ? " She was | 9
very much amused at the question , JH
mid in doubt how to treat it. Call- |
ingthe examiner to her desk , she said : M
'
' 1 have the reputation of being of |
rood moral character. But you 1 |
{ now 'reputation , 5 is what God and ! |
: he angles know of tis , and that I ' M
lon 't want to tell. " The examiner - M
iaidshe need not worry. M
Queer Dreams. 19
rom the London Telegraph. l |
There are a great many people who 9
ire firm belie vera in dreams , and M
vho are not ashamed to admit it , M
md a groat many other people who |
rill ot plead guilty to what they M
all foolish" superstition , and who . ! H
ire yet more or less Impressed by a |
ladorgood dream. To the latter ' ; |
• rder , according to a paper pub- ) |
ished at Tientsin , a gentleman be- i | |
onged who some years ago buried | |
tis father in a temporary grave r 9
fhile the tomb in course ofconstruc- 1 1
ion for his remains was being finish- $ k
(1. When completed the removal from Ij k
• ne spot to the other took place ; M
• ut on the temporary grave being j |
• penod it was found filled with wa- fj |
er and the coffin was decayed. ' 9
This being the state of things , the- [ jH
mdertaker hastily packed up the f l
iones , placed them in an urn and re- f ij l
nterred them. The same night the ' |
on dreamed that he saw his father ! |
11 great displeasure , and , awaking f 9
rom his dream , he fell asleep again , 9
0 have it repeated. This happened / l
: > r several successive nights until at ll
• ngth he mentioned the circumstance " 1B
a his friend ; , for , though no believer H
1 dreams , his mind was troubled. ' 1 1
) ne of his acquaintances suggested 1 1
hat perhaps his father's spirit ob- i B
Krtwl to being removed ; another ] E
hired that more likely all the bones i H
ad not been collected , and this last l M
int led to a searcli and the finding M
n
fa bone which had escaped notice ! 1 1
t was at once interred with the rest • u 9
1 the urn and since that night the 1 1
3ii's slumbers have been undisturb- l H
:1 : , the ghost , his grievance settled , * f l
ppearing no more. 1 , 9
Mcotinc Whims or Statesmen H
rom the Washington Post. I l
Senator Hampton has af queer ' i l
abit. He does not chew or smoke to jj l
ay extent , but he is fond of pinchin - 1 1
° *
ffsectionsofannecigarpowderin ( H
in his hand and snuffing it. He - . ) J 9
ill sit ia the cloak room where he f f H
m see the President's desk - and j i 9
ruff cigars for an hour at the time. H
Senator Daniel of Virginia also has < H
nicotine fad. It is to indulge in a j H
ivy smoke. " That is , he keeps an ( H
rismoked or half-smoked cigar in ' M
Is mouth all the time. . H
Gen. Samuel Thomas oftheBricet i |
homas-Seney syndicate got into 1
lis habit as compromise between ' 1
noking and not smoking , and the M H
suit was a surgical operation to , l l
( move a tumor-like growth that % j H
ppeared on his lins just at the place * H
here he always held hisunlighted H
gar. The doctors told him to ' H
ther smoke or let the whole thing H
lone , but not to carry an unlimited 9
gar in his mouth. > M
> 9
' • - f'U & > liuMMT M
- - • • - - - - - 1 1 1 1 1 m