Nebraska Newspapers

    i t ' " ' ' - - s i ... a
The Sioux County Journal,
VOLUME VII.
HAKKISON, NEBRASKA, THURSDAY, BEBRUARY 7, 1895.
NUMBER 22.
AN AUTUMN PICTURE.
Tha beautiful love days are over,
Ttoe weeping of summer rain,
And Nature's ajur I barvest-beaped
With golden fruit and grain.
The leave in the forest are colored
' With the blush of the wooing breeze.
And the an'i last glow i a softer red
Aa it links between the trees.
"i
Then twilight pink and amber, ,
And a passing promise of snow.
Is whispered through the velvet wooda
When the autumn moon ia low.
THE CAPTAIN'S WIFE.
Old Fort Bad win consisted of a row
of squat, one-story adobe houses, built
In Mexican style, which were the quar
ters of the officers, and a similar,
though somewhat differently arranged,
line of buildings, extending at a right
angle from the end of the officers' quar
ters, that comprised the barracks o-cu-pled
by the three companies of Infantry
and one troop of cavalry which made
up the garrison. The storehouses, sta
bles, corrals, etc., completed all there
was of Fort Badwln.
It was a sun-baked slope, extending
toward the Gila, three rulles away, but
along a pretty stream, a redeeming fea
ture, having Its source In the springs
at the base of the mountain which form
ed the background. The landscape was
till farther relieved by the extending
lfnes of Cottonwood and mesquite trees
which bordered the little stream, called
by the Indians the "Shus-Be-To," or
Bear's Water.
Around this "post" the Apaches were
everywhere, even stealthily crawling
Inside the line of sentinels at night, or
shooting their arrows at the sentinel as
he walked his lonely beat On one dark
night they watched the guard at the
cattle corral, and during his short ab
sence from a selected spot by an adroit
use of their rawhide lariats succeeded
In dragging several of the smeller ani
mals through an opening they had forc
ed between the logs, without discovery;
whereat a soldier next morning rhym
ed: "Lo! the poor Indian, with untutored
mind,
Finds calves in the corral and chokes
off their wind."
In the year which followed the close
of the war of the rebellion, to Fort
Badwln had eomi) Captain Slgourney,
-.with his bride anu his cavalry troop.
Oentle Mary Slgourney was a minis
ter's daughter, who In the far-away
New England town had Joined her life
with that of the brave young captain,
that hero for whom she had forsaken
home and kindred, to share with him
the wild, unknown life on the frontier.
The fair, girlish form seemed strangely
out of keeping with the rude surround
ings, but she was content
Barely were the soldiers given time
to occupy their quarters aftpr the
weary march across the sandy deserts.
It was Indiuns! Indians! everywhere
and at all times. Captain Slgourney,
the ideal of an American cavalry offi
cer, was almost constantly In the sad
dle, his form a tower of physical and
moral strength. His rough-rldlng troop
ers were already a terror to the neigh
boring bands of Apaches, who felt that
their strongholds and mountain fast
nesses were no longer places from
which they might defy the troops of the
Government.
It was Sunday afternoon. The Oc
tober sun shone brightly as stable-call
was sounded at Badwln; but, Instead of
"answering the call," both officers and
men had collected In groups about the
flagstaff, intent upon a strange some
thing which had attracted (heir atten
tion. Even the few members of the
officers' families were there, In a llttlo
knot but slightly removed, and the eyes
of all were riveted on a common object.
Gradually it wus seen to emerge from
the haziness of the surrounding hills,
and soon forms were distinguishable.
But ere this the clear notes of the cav
alry bugle rang out, "Boots and sad
flies!" and the long roll of the Infantry
was promptly beaten. Captain Slgour
ney was already In line with his troops
on the flank of the post facing old
Mount Turnbull, near him the longer
line of the Infantry battalion, had also
halted, and now, In ominous silence, do
the veterans so recently from the scenes
of a civilized war, wait the approach of
a savage foe.
With bated breath had been passed
from one to another the dreaded uamc
of "Cochise," that fearless Indian
whose prowess had for years main
tained an absolute supremacy through
out the Southwest, from the Ulo Grande
to the Colorado, the mention of whom
might well cause the cheek of the bor
der man to pale.
From bis customary haunts Cochise
had heard of the work of the "blonde
soldier chief on the 8hus-Be-To, and
had come to punish hi in. He had
brought his chosen warriors, armed
with the lance, with bows and arrows,
and with firearms, the spoils of many
a massacre In Arizona and Honors.. Con
trary to his custom, be had said he
would tight the soldiers on open ground;
and now, followed by a horde of paint
ed fiends, be was riding on In hot haste
to the devoted garrison at Badwln.
On, on they moved, with almost mili
tary precision, and In numbers much
greater than the little body of troopers.
An occasional glimpse could be caught
from beneath the overhanging cloud
of dust with which they were envelop
ed, while so perfect was the discipline
of this wonderful savage that no word
was spoken, the silence being broken
only by the pounding of the unshod
hoofs, and the snorting of the ponies,
who scented the coming fray.
The Indians had advanced so that the
dull sound of their coming was audible,
and had reached a level piece of ground
adjacent to the post, when the com
mand "Forward!" was given by the
cavalry captain, and the troop moved
out This, in rapid succession, was
followed by the commands "Trot!" and
"Gallop!" Then, in the clear, brisk
notes of the bugle, came the "Charge!"
With ranks unbroken, and gleaming
sabers high In air, sped the gallant
troopers, with the swiftness of the
wind, to meet momentum with momen
tum. Five hundred yards were passed,
and the white man and the red were
for an Instant face to face, eye glaring
Into eye, with silent deadly purpose;
then the wild whoop of the Apaches
filled the air, echoing back from the
mountain side as from a thousand sav
age throats, mingling with the loud
cheers of the soldiers as the surging
bodies met.
"Turning In his saddle, the captain
called:
"Now, men, each one pick his In
dian!" There was no time for more. At the
head of the Indian band rode the hercu
lean Cochise, with lance already poised,
who now in broken English shouted:
"Here, white man! We to fight!"
The point of the Indian's lance was
near the captain's breast, when, with
a quick stroke of the saber he severed
It from the staff and sent It whizzing
through the air. Then bending as he
rode, he pierced Cochise's arm; but ere
he could seize the udvantage which for
an Instant seemed within his grasp,
the crowding horses of his troopers
forced him on.
Now the soldiers and the Indians were
a confused, dust-enveloped, undlstln
gulshable mass, each fighting desper
ately for life. Quickly flashed the sa
ber, alternating the thrusts of the lance
dexterously parried by the practiced
trooper, while from the tightly druwn
bows too surely flow the murderous
flint-pointed arows of the Apaches.
Here In the dust they rolled, side by
side, the unhorsed trooper and his wily
foemnn. Then on foot they fought,
with carbine, with pistol, or still with
lance and snber, with the ferocity of
war, and for seif-preservatlou, this unto
the death.
KldcrlfKH dashed the frightened po
nies of the Indians and larger horses
of the fallen soldiers, with nostrils
wide apart, wildly snorting Into the
thickest of the fight; then, as some
faithful brute received his death
wound, sounded that cry of equine ter
ror heard mid the scenes of carnage
where Destiny has ever led humanity.
There was no quarter; to fall was
almost certain death. Quickly was the
ground strewn with the bodies of
those who but now sought each other's
lives; together, silently and peacefully,
lay the white man and the Indian in
the arms of death.
All this passed In almost the space of
time It has taken to tell It and the op
posing forces had passed "through each
other." On the other side the trumpet
had already sounded the "Kally."
Quickly did the. captain assemble the
remainder of his men to renew the
charge, but the Indians did not wait; it
was not their method. The Apaches
seemed almost to vanish, so rapidly did
they gnlu the cover of the trees and
rocks which bordered the stream at a
point above the post.
While the cavalry was charging the
Indians on the open plain to the right,
their infantry companies hud not re
mained Idle. As the troop had moved
out to meet Cochise, there had come
from ths concealment afforded by the
rocks and mesquite trees above and In
the rear, another band of Indians, dis
mounted. This was even a larger
number than that with Cochise, and
was led by a powerful savage, sec
oud only to Cochise himself. Hitherto
their presence had not been discover
ed; and had the first party not been
U'aten off, It was their apparent pur
pose to form a Junction Inside the post,
where a general massacre would have
been the sequence.
The approach of these Indians was
only discovered by the Major who
commanded the Infantry, In time to en
able him to move his men at a rapid
gait to a dace In the rear of the line
of officers' quarters. Directly behind
each set of these quarters had Ieen
built a "dug-out," a kind of outside
cellur, such as Is used In warm cli
mates for keeping the family stores;
these were a few feet below the level
of the ground, the logs forming roofs
covered with earth. Into these were
now unceremoniously hurried the ter
rified women and children composing
the families of the officers and soldiers
of the command.
It was' Just possible to do this and
reach a point beyond, perhaps one
hundred yards distant, when the at
tack began.
The quiet was broken by the fierce
whoop of the Apaches, which, once
heard, can never be forgotten. The
gaudily painted and ochared savages,
!aro to the waist and clad only In
breech-clout and rooooMlaa, came on
at a rapid ran, In a thin, scattering
line, extending far to U right and
left To throw out a skirmish line waa
but the work of moments, when the
steady Ore of the disciplined soldiers
checked the rapid advance of tie In
dians, causing them to waver slightly.
Quickly pushing his temporary ad
vantage, the Major drove them again
to shelter But now there came from
the Apaches a deafening yell, the sig
nificance of which the soldiers knew
too well Cochise had come!
Wrhen Captain Sigonrney saw that
Cochise bad gone, be for the first time
beard the firing In the post Moving
his' troop at a gallop, he quickly paaaed
over the ground of his recent charge
and reached the remainder of the com
mand Jnst as It was being forced back
upon the rear of the line of officers'
quarters and toward the little parade
ground at Baldwin. Many of the sol
diers had already been killed by the
united bands of Apaches; with Cochise
at their head, and In numbers greatly
in excess of the soldiers, It seemed a
forlorn hope, and that it only remained
for these brave men to sell their lives
as dearly as possible.
But now once more rang on the
evening air the welcome notes of the
bugle, mingled with the wild cheering
of the gallant Infantrymen, as from be
tween the quarters dashed the troop
ers. In the light of the setting sun
again the saler flashed and did Its
noiseless execution; the pistol, too,
came into noisy requisition, alternat
ing with the cracking carbine shots;
the footmen took new heart, and
their long guns sent many a red man
to tha happy hunting-grounds; the bul
lets pattered, and the whizzing arrows
sounded like flights of birds.
The struggle was desperate; Iho fate
of the little garrison trembled In tlio
balance.
From the thickest of the fight the
quick eye of Cochise fell on Slgourney.
His wounded arm still smarted from
the Captain's thrust, and once more he
called:
"Now, white man, die!"
Cochise was again armed with his
favorite weapon, the lancw; with a
deally point he rode straight at the
young commander. Again the latter
attempted to parry, but this time was
less fortunate. The lance entered his
side and he was dismounted, the In
dlan still holding the end of tUe
weapon.
To Captain Slgourney, helpless anl
wounded at the feet of his savage ad
versary, all seemed over. Done now
his dream of glory, done his loyal pride
In his chosen work, done everything
for him on earth save, last the agon
ized thought of his widowed brido. To
die thus without another glimpse of
the sweet face of her who was so near,
to leave her in her desolation Whiz!
Crack!
With a mnd yell Cochise sprang Into
the air, and the fallen soldier realized
that not two hours ago, but ouly the
space of a lightning flash, had the
lance entered his side. Cochise had
not time to finish his work.
The fight still raged; but in place of
the bloodthirsty Apache, a woman s
form bent over her husband, and Mary
Slgourney dropped the still smoking
gun. With strength born of agony,
she dragged the wounded man back to
the safety of the dug-out
The fall of Cochise turned the tide of
battle; and, waiting only to secure the
wounded chief, the Apaches scurried
to the hills like a flock of quails. Then
for her who had saved the day at Bud
win for the Captain's wife! long and
loudly did the soldiers cheer.- Wuver
ly Magazine.
AN UNAPPRECIATED GIFT.
A Washington Woman Received One
I'renent Too Many.
There is a department woman In
Washington whose fondness for pets
Is known to all her friends. Not long
ago a woman who boards In the same
house with her bought a squirrel In a
cage, and to give her a pleasant sur
prise put It In her room one afternoon.
The department woman came home
and went to her room. She did not
appear at dinner. There was no light
In her room. Not a sound was heard
from her. At last, late In the evening,
her friends began to be worried about
her, and one of them went np and
knocked on the door. The department
woman was within and in a whisper
she answert'd the knock.
"I can't stir," Bhe said. "Some addle
headud fool has put a squirrel In here
and It's got out of Its cage. Every
time I try to strike a light It flies all
around the room. It's torn a big hole
In the lace curtain and smashed two
of my vases. There's an Ink bottle on
the bureau, and I don't dare move for
fear he'll knock that off next What
am I going to do?"
There was a consultation outside,
but nobody could think of anything to
do. The department woman stood It
until midnight, and then her wrath
getting the better of her prudence she
declared she'd light the gas If the
squirrel broko everything In the room
And when the gag was lighted there
was the squirrel safe In his cage
again. But the woman who bought
him has found another boarding
house. Washington Star.
Bis Fad,
John D. Loackamp, of Billings, Mont.,
apparently has a corner on elk teeth,
having 80,000 at them In his poaseuilon.
TALM AGE'S SERMON.
GREAT PREACHER AT THE NEW
YORK ACADEMY OF MUSIC.
Ha Preaches Purely Ooepel Sermon
Abounding; la Information and Full
of Eloquent Logic A Few Kemarka
About Political Reform.
Pointa of Compaaa.
The hearty welcome accorded to Dr.
Taimage at the Academy of Music, New
York, Sunday before lust, on the occasion
of the eminent divine's introduction to
the metropolitan pulpit, was additionally
emphasized by the immense throag that
greeted him last Sunduy afternoon, and
which tilled every seat from orchestra to
top gallery. The singing was led by
Professor. Ali's cornet and the services
opened at precisely 4 o'clock with the
singing of the long meter Doxolngy. The
subject of Dr. Talmage's discourse was
"Points of Compass" and the text Luke
xiii, 20, "They shall come from the east,
and from the west and from the north,
end from the south, and shall sit down."
The mun who wrote this was at one
time a practicing physician, at another
time a talented painter, ut another time
a powerful preacher, at another time a
reporter an inspired reporter. God
bless and help and inspire all reporters!
From their pen drops the health or poi
son of nations. The name of this report
er was Lucanns, for short he whs called
Lnke, and In my text, although stenog
raphy had not yet been born, he reports
verbatim a sermon of Christ which in
one paragraph bowls the round world
into the light of the milleniitra. "They
shall come from the esst, and from the
west, and from the north and from the
outh, and shall sit down."
Nothing more interested me In my re
cent journey around the w.rhl than to
sec the ship captain about n"ii, whether
on the Pacific, or the Indian "r Bengal or
Mediterranean or Ked looking
through ft nautical instruim at to find
just where we were sailing, and It Is well
to know that, though the csptnin tells
you there are thirty-two points of divis
ion of the compass card in tha marine
compass, there are only four cardinal
points, and my text hailR them the
north, the south, the east, the west. Bo I
spread out before us the map of the
world to see the extent of the gospel
campaign. The hardest part of the field
to be taken Is the north, because our gos
pel is an emotional gospel, and the na
tions of the far north are a cold blooded
race. They dwell amid icehergs ami
eternal snows and everlasting winter.
Greeulanders, Laplanders, Icelanders,
Siberians their vehicle Is the sledge
drawn by reindeer," their apparel the
thickest furs at all seasons, their exist
ence a lifetime battle with the cold. The
winter charges upon them with swords of
Icicle and strikes them with bullet of
hail and pounds them with battering
rams of glacier.
The Gospel In the North.
But already the huts of the Arctic
hear the songs of divine worship. Al
ready the snows fall on open New Testa
ments. Already the warmth of the Sun
of Righteousness begins to be felt
through the bodies and minds and souls
of the hyperboreans. Down from Nova
Zembla, down from Spitsbergen seas,
down from the land of the midnight suns,
down from the palaces of crystal, down
over realms of Ice and over dominions of
snow and through hurricanes of sleot
Christ's disciples are coming from the
north. The inhabitants of Hudson Bay
are gathering to the cross. The Church
Missionary Society in those polar climes
has been grandly successful in establish
ing twenty-four gospel stations, and over
12.000 natives have believed and have
been baptized. The Moravians have
kindled the light of the gospel all up and
down Labrador. The Danish mission has
gathered disciples from among the shiv
ering inhabitants of Greenland. William
Duncan preaches the gospel up In the
chilly latitudes of Columbia, delivering
one sermon nine times In the same day to
as many different tribes, who listen and
then go forth to build schoolhouses and
churches.
Alaska, cnlled at Us annexation Wil
liam II. Seward's folly, turns out to be
William H. Seward's triumph, and it Is
hearing the voice of God through the
American missionaries men and women
as defiant of arctic hardships as the old
Scottish chief who, when camping out in
a winter's night, knocked from under his
son's head a pillow of snow, saying that
such indulgence in luxury would weaken
and disgrace the clan. The .leannette
went down in latitude 77, while De Long
and his freezing and dying men stood
watching It from the crumbling and crac
kling polar pack, but the old ship of the
gospel sails as unhurt in latitude 77 as In
our 40 degrees, and the one-starred flag
floats above the topgallants in Baffin's
Bay and Hudson's Strait and Melville
Sound. The heroism of polar expedition,
which made the names of Sebastian Ca
bot and Scoresby and Schwatka and Hen
ry Hudson Immortal, is to be eclipsed by
the prowess of the men and women who
amid the frosts of high latitudes are this
moment taking the upper shores of ICu
rope, Asia and America for God. Scien
tists have never been able to agree as to
what is the aurora borealls, or northern
lights. I can tell them. It is the banner
of victory for Christ spread out In the
northern night heavens. Partially ful
filled already the prophecy of my text,
to be completely fulfilled In the near fu
ture, "They shall come from the north."
Chrlxt In the Honth.
But my text fakes in the opposite point
of the compass. The far south has,
through high temperature, temptations to
lethargy and Indolence and hot blood
which tend toward multiform evil. We
have through my text got the north In,
notwithstanding its frosts, and the tame
text brings In the south, notwithstanding
Its tonidity. The fields of cactus, the
orange grovel and the thickets of mag
nolia are to be surrendered to the Ixrd
Almighty. The south! That means Mex
ico atul all the regions that William II.
Preacott and Lord Klngaborough made
familiar ia literature Mexico In strange
dialect of the Aztecs; Mexico conquered
by Ilernan Cortez to be more gloriously
conquered; Mexico, with its capital more
than 7,000 feet above the sea level, look
ing down upon the entrancement of lake
and valley and plain; Mexico, the home
of nations yet to be bora all for Christ.
The south I That means Africa, which
David Livingstone consecrated to God
when he died on his knees in his tent of
exploration. Already about 750,000 con
verts to Christianity In Africa. The
south! That means all the islands strewn
by omnipotent hand through tropical seas
Malayan Polynesia, Melanesia.Microne
sta, and other islands more numerous
than you can imagine unless you have
voyaged around the world. The south!
That means Java for God, Sumatra for
God, Borneo for God, Siam for God.
A ship was wrecked near one of these
islands, and two lifeboats put out for
shore, but those who arrived in the first
boat were clubbed to death by the canni
bals, and the other boat put back and was
somehow saved. Years passed on, and
one of that very crow was wrecked again,
with others on the same rocks. Crawling
up the shore, they proposed to hide from
the cannibals in oue of the caverna; but,
mounting the rocks, they saw a church
and cried out: "We are saved. A church!
A church!" The south! That means Ven
ezuela, New Granada, Ecuador and Bo
livia. The south! That means the torrid
zone, with all its bloom and all its fruit
age and all its exuberance, the redolence
of illimitable gardens, the music of bound
less groves, the land, tho seas that night
by night look up to tho southern cross,
which in stars transfigures the midnight
heaven as you look up at it all the way
from the Sandwich Islands to Australia.
"They shall coma from the south."
Religion in the Kuet.
But I must not forget that my toxt
takes In another cardinal point of the
compass. It takes In the east. I have to
report that in a Journey around the world
there Is nothing so much impresses one
as tho fact that tho missionaries, divinely
blessed, are taking tho world for God.
The horrible war between Japan and
China will leave tho last wall of opposi
tion Hat In tho dust. War is barbarism
always and everywhere. We hold up our
hands in amazement at the massacre at
Port Arthur as though Christian nations
could never go into such diabolism. We
forget Fort Pillow. We forget tho fact
that during the war both north and south
rejoiced when there were 10,000 more
wounded and slain on the opiiosito side.
War, whether in China or the United
States, Is hell let loose. But one good re
sult will come from the Japanese-Chinese
conflict those regions will be more open
to civilization and Christianity than ever
before. When Missionary Carey put be
fore an assembly of ministers at North
ampton, England, his project for the
evangelization of India, they laughed him
out of the house. From Calcutta now on
the east of India to Bombay on the west
there is not a neighborhood but directly
or indirectly feels the goHpel power. The
Juggernaut, which did its awful work
for centuries, a few weeks ago "was
brought out from the place where It has
for years been kept under shed as a curi
osity, and there was no one reverentially
to greet it. About 3,000,000 of Chris
tian souls in India are the advance guard
that will lead on the 250,000,0" 10. The
Christians of Amoy and Peking and Can
ton are the advance guard that will lead
the 840,000,000 of China. "They shall
come from the east." The last mosque of
Mohammedanism will be turned into a
Christian church. The last Buddhist tem
ple will become a fortress of light. The
last Idol of Hindooism will be pitcnea into
the fire.
The Christ who came from the east
will yet bring all the east with him. Of
course there are high obstacles to over
come, and great ordeals must be passed
through before the consummation, as wit
ness the Armenians under the butchery
of the Turks. May that throne on the
banks of the Bosphorus soon crumble!
The time has already come when the Uni
ted States government and Great Brit
ain and Germany ought to intone the in
dignation of all civilized nations. While
it is not requisite that arms be sent there
to avenge the wholesale massacre of Ar
menians, it is requisite that by cable un
der the seas and by protest that shall
thrill the wires from Washington and
London and Berlin to Constantinople
the nations anathematize the diabolism
for which the sultan of Turkey is re
sponsible. Mohammedanism is a curse,
whether in Turkey or in New York.
"They shall come from the east." And
they will come at the call of the loveliest
and grandest and best men and women
of all time. I mean the missionaries.
Dissolute Americans and Englishmen
who have gone to Calcutta and Bombay
and Canton to make their fortunes de
fame the missionaries because the holy
lives and pure households of those mis
sionaries are a constant rebuke to the
American and English libertines stopping
there, but the men and women of God
there stationed go on gloriously with
their work people jnst as good and self
denying as was Missionary Moffat, who,
when asked to write in an album, wrote
these words:
"My album Is In savage breasts,
Where passion reigns and darkness rests
Without one ray of light.
To write the name of Jesus there,
To point to worlds both bright and fair,
And see the pagan bow In prayer,
Is all my soul's delight."
In all those regions are men and wom
en with the consecration of Melville B.
Cox, who, embarking for the missionary
work in Africa, said to a fellow student
"If I die In Africa, come and write my
epitaph." "What ahnll I write for your
epitaph?" said the student "Write,"
said he, "these words: 'Let a thousand
fall before Africa be given up.' "
ChrUttanity In the Went.
There is another point of the compass
that my text Includes. "Tbey shall come
from the west." That means America
redeemed. Everything between Atlantic
and Pacific oceans to be brought within
Ibc circle of holiness and rapture. Will
It be done by worldly reform or evangel
ism? Will it be law or gospel? I am
glad that a wave of reform has swept
across this lnnd, and all cities are feeling
the advantage of tha mighty movement.
Let the good work go on until tha mat
municipal evil is extirpated.
About fifteen years ago the distinguish
ed editor of a New York daily newspaper
said to me in his editorial room: "You
ministers talk about evils of which yon
know nothing. Why don't yon go with
the officers of the law and axplora for
yourself, so that whan you preach against
sin you can speak from what yon hava
seen with your own eyes?" I said, "I
will." And in company with a commis
sioner of police and a captain of police
and two elders of my church I explored
the dens and'bidlng places of all styles of
crime in New York and preached a series
of sermons warning young man and set
ting forth the work that must be done
lost the judgments of God whalm this
city with more awful submergement than
the volcanic deluge that buried Harcu
laneum and Pompeii.
I received, as nearly as I can remem
ber, several hundred columns of news
paper abuse for undertaking that explor
ation. Editorials of denunciation, double
leaded and with captions in great primer
type, entitled "The Pall of Talmaga," or
"Tulniage Makes the Mistake of His
Life," or "Down with Talmage," but I
still live and am in full smypathy with all
movements for municipal reform.
But a movement which ends with
crime exposed and law executed stois
half way. Nay, it stops long before it
gets half way. The law never yet saved
anybody, never yet changed anybody.
Break up all the houses of iniquity
in this city, and you only send the
occupants to other cities. Break
down all the policemen in New
York, and while it ohanges their worldly
fortunes it does not change their heart
or life. The greatest want in New York
to-day is the transforming power of the
gospel of Jesus Christ to change the
heart and the life and uplift the tone of
moral sentiment and make men do right,
not because they are afraid of Ludlow
St reet Jail or Sing Sing, but because they
love (iod and hate unrighteousness. Pol
itics in all our cities has become so cor
rupt that the only difference between the
Republican and Democratic parties is
that each is worse than the other. But
what nothing else in the universe can do
the gospel can and will accomplish.
"They shall come from the west," and
for that purpose the evangelistic batter-'
ies are planted all along the Pacific
coast, as they are planted all along the
Atlantic coast. All the prairies, all the
mountains, all the valleys, all the cities
are under more or less gospel influence,
and when we get enough faith and con
secration for the work this whole Amer
ican continent will cry out for God.
"They shall come from the west."
But what will they do after they come?
Here is something gloriously consolatory
that you have never noticed, "They shall
come from the east, and the west, and the
north, and the south, and shall sit down."
Oh, this is a tired world! The most of
people are kept on the run all their life
time. Business keeps them on the run.
Trouble keeps them on the run. Rivalries
of life keep them on the ruji, They are
running from the disaster. They are run-'
ning for reward. And those who run the
fastest and run the longest seem best to
succeed. But my text suggests a restful
posture for all God's children, for all
those i ho for a lifetime have been on the
run. "They shall sit down!" Why run
any longer? When a man gets heaven,
what more can he get? "They shall sit
down." Not alone, but in picked com
panionship of the universe; not embar
rassed, though a seraph should sit down
on one side of you and an archangel on
the other.
Sitting; Down to Rest.
There is that mother who through all
the years of infancy and childhood was
kept running amid sick trundle beds, now
to shake up the pillow for that flaxen
head, and now to give a drink to those
parched lips, and now to hush the fright
ened dream of a little one, and when there
was one less of the children because the
great lover of children had lifted one out
of the croup into the easy breathing of
celestial atmosphere the mother putting
all the more anxious care on those who
were left. So weary of arm and foot and
back and head, so often crying out: "I am
so tired! I am so tired!" Her work done,
she shall sit down. And that business
man for 30, 40, 50 years, has kept on the
run, not urged by selfishness, but for the
purpose of achieving a livelihood for the
household; on the run from store to store,'
or froin factory to factory, meeting this
loss and discovering that inaccuracy and
suffering betrayal or disappointment,
nevermore to be cheated or perplexed or
exasperated he Bhall sit down. Not in
a great armchair of heaven, for tho rock
ers of such a chair would imply one's
need of soothing, of changing to easy pos
ture or semi-individualism, but a throne,
solid as eternity and radiant as the morn
ing after a night of storm. "They shall
sit down." "I
I notice that the most of the styles of
toil require an erect attitude. There are
the thousands of girls behind counters,
many such persons though the inhuman
ity of employers compelled to stand, even
when because of a lack of customers there
is no ueed that they stand. Then there are
all the carpenters, and the stonemasons,
and the blacksmiths, and the farmers,
and the engineers, and the ticket agents,
and the conductors. In most trades, in
most occupations they must stand. But
ahead of all those who love and serve the
Ixrd is a resting place, a complete relaxa
tion of fatigued muscle, something cush
ioned and upholstered and embroidered
with the very ease of heaven.
"They shall sit down." Rest from toil.
Rest from pain. Rest from persecution.
Rest from uncertainty. Beautiful, joy
ous, transporting, everlasting rest! 6h,
men and women of the frozen north,
and the blooming south, and from the
realms of the rising or setting gun, though
Christ get your sins forgiven and start for
the place where you may at last sit down
in blissful recovery from the fatigues of
earth while there roll over you the Ma
tures of heaven.
Untrained monkeys brought $10 1
In Venice In the sixteenth century; If
trained, they were much mors expen
sive, the price depending on the
amount of the training.
i
V.