Daughter :
* ft
* ftft
A Story of Patriarchal Times. *
Wr
' ' . By JULIA MAGRUDER. . .
/ *
< # COPTniGOTED 1600 , 189J AND 1830 BT KOBEttT BONNEtt'S
I
( CHAPTER XI ( Continued. )
r And when Namarah and her maidens -
| ens reached the house of Jephthah , be-
hold.-it was hung with mourning , and
though the 'doors were wide , there was
neither friend nor servant to be seen.
So Namarali entered silently , and took
her way toward the apartment of her
father Jephthah ; and as she came unto
his door , she turned and spake unto
Hie maidens , bidding them stay with
out in the hall while she went in alone.
And as she thrust open the door and
came into the presence of her father
ll Jephthah , behold he to was dressed in
If mourning garments , and he leaned
upon the breast of the young man
Adina , who was also clad in sackcloth ;
and the faces of both men were white
as be the faces of the dead ; and Adina
had grown gaunt and hollow-cheeked
and lost his ruddy color , while
her father Jephthah was as one grown
I old before his time.
And Namarali spake no word , but
\ t shutting close the door behind her , she
went and put her arms about the neck
[ i * of her father , but her eyes she gave
unto her lover.
Her hood had fallen backward , and
her white face rose from out its sol
emn mourning draperies as a fair
llower springing out of earth ; and her
eyes , made large and luminous through
fastings and vigils , seemed as the very
windows of her spirit ; and in their
depth Adina read a love unspeakable ,
runquenchable and not to be surpassed.
He understood her tender thought in
clasping first her father before her
touch sought his , for it was'by reason
of her father that this blow was come
upon them , and she felt he had great
need of comfort and the assurance of
her deep , unchanged affection ; but in
that long , deep look into her lover's
eyes , she gave him her whole self. For
a moment they rested in that look ,
quiet and calm as the deeps of ocean ,
and then the maiden spake :
"I pray thee leave me now , Adina , "
she saith , softly , as the voice of Jeph
thah her father brake into great sobs
while she smoothed his snow-white
hair , and stilled him as a mother might
her babe. "I would be with him alone ,
that my courage fail not ; for he hath
more need of comfort than either thou.
or I. Return to me an hour after moonrise - .
, rise in the garden/ '
< 2r * Anci ! A'dTna bowed his" heaH and \verit. "
with never so much as _ a _ touch of her
" " " "
* *
to feedTtfiemighty""fimiger"
J ° .yj . .h ° .wl-it that _ _ lopk in hereyes
. xviiicbj'rested on him. still , Aeven as he
; # efti er presence.was ; ' , 'asC.a'- draught . ,
% iivine wherewith the thirst of his soul
might be quenched.
. CHAPTER XII.
V/Even before the coming of the time
Appointed , just as the moon was com-
"Hng up behind the distant horizon ,
! ! Adina made his silent , way into jhe ;
garden of Jephthah's house , and'stood
' nd waited. The hour of moonrise was
'Just what it had been two months- - -
"re , on the night of their parting here ,
in his ears were the same sounds
babbling brook and of the dgves
house near by. 'Up"an"d d'own"
' '
jjt'u'ej young man paced , Jus thumbs , .j.
. thrust into the belt wherewith his
Awhile tunic was held in place , anH his
% $ iole body tense and strained with the
mightiness of his hardlymastered ex- ' ,
.
of Jephthah ; and on'this he kept
; , until presently it became in a
, _ _ . , . softly shaded , as if to scfreen
% $ & eyes , of one who slept. Namarah ,
indeed , had soothed her "father * into a
gentle slumber , and when itVas known
unto her that he slept she stepped forth
into the garden. v
She had even refreshed her from her
journey and clothed herself in snow-
white garments , perfumed with myrrh
and frankincense , in which she moved
softly down the garden walks to meet
him whom her soul did love. The
grasses of summer bent beneath the :
soft pressure of her feet , and the vines
divided themselves-at the light touches
of her hands. The trees above her were
as the wall of her temple of love , and
the ino'oh pierced through to light it.
Adina stood and waited in the spot
made sacred to them by the early
dawnings , as well as by the fruition of
their love ; and as the maiden , fair and
white as if made of the rays of the
moonlight , moved softly toward him ,
he stretched out his. two arms. She
came to them with full gladness and
assurance , as one of her white doves ,
after long wandering , cometh home.
And Adina spake no word ; only he
drew lier to him , as though he would
never lose her again. As she rested )
so , feeling against her heart the full
throb of his , -while that his close clasp
tightened and his breath came quick , it \s
seemed to her a moment of such rap
ture that the thought of her heart came
c : ;
forth in words , as she said , on the
p
breatlrof a low-drawn sigh :
n
"I would that I could die even now ! "
And Adina answered :
"And I with thee , that our souls
together might return to God who gave
them. " c :
"It is most sure , " said Namarah. °
earnestly. "It may not be such as we
would choose or look for ; but He hath
heard that prayer of mine and thine
each time'our hearts have breathed it ,
and the answer doth somewhere await
us. "
She spake these words in solemn
whisperings , more tender than the coo
ing of doves , more murmurous than
the rippling of the brook.
No eye saw the parting , when at last
Adina wrenched his heart away from
hers. They two were alone in the si
lence with God. Even the dove came
not near them tonight , but remained
apart and alone , as if it had knowledge
of all and forbore to come between the
beating of their hearts and the com
munion of their souls.
At th& rising of the sun next morn
ing , the altar was made ready in the
heart of a deep wood , and by it stood a
priest resplendent in the robes of his
office. The wood was in readiness , and
the fire prepared , nor was the offering
for the sacrifice wanting. She stood , a
pure virgin , clad in stainless white , and
on her left , the young man Adina. And
the face of the maiden Namarah was
calm and peaceful , and her eyes trust
ful and quiet as be the eyes of children
when they know their parents are close
by. And her face , for all its paleness ,
was more beauteous to look upon than
ever it had been before , for the light
that shone upon it was not wholly
that cast by the rising sun , but , as it
were , a light from within her soul.
And Adina's face was radiant , too , so
that it seemed as if one light illumined
them from within , even as the same
sun from without. And Namarah's
voice , as she spake , was tranquil and
assured.
"Make ready thy fire , 0 priest of
God , " Naraarah said , "for all is ready. "
And she turned and kissed her father
Jephthah full tenderly. Then , speak
ing once more unto the priest , she said :
"I pray thee , while that the fire is
kindling 1 , suffer us to kneel and say one
,
prayer I and the young man Adina. "
And they knelt together , both in vir
gin white , their hands clasped close
and their faces raised to heaven , and
the prayer of their hearts , even as the
fire blazed and crackled , and the knife
gleajned sharp and threatening near
by , was "that" the God in whom tliey
,
trusted would'deliver them in His own
,
time and -wayr - fj
"And jhey--knelt : so , long in'-silence
.
that the priest , who wished not to in
,
terrupttheirprayers , was .fain .at .last
,
to speak to them , lest the sacred fires
should , burn top low : , But there came
no , answer tq _ his words , and yhen he
turheSranaiooked 'into their 'faces , that
wondrous light was gone from them ;
for their spirits had fled together , and
the glare of sunshine upon them re
vealed that they were even the faces of
the dead.
And it was even so that God deliv
ered them. This was His time and
place , and He had chosen His own way.
And that the vow which Jephthah had
vowed might be accomplished , the
body of the maiden Namarah was laid
upon the altar and with it the body of
the young man Adina , a burnt offering
unto the Lord.
And as the flres upon the altar be
gan to sink , an object that seemed to
fall straight from out the sky dropped
down and fell into the flames ; and lo !
it was the body of a snow-white dove ,
which had been even dead before it
touched the fire upon the altar.
( The End. )
MASCULINE CHARACTERISTICS.
to Shot ? Themselves at an Early
Age.
The masculine characteristics , as
well as the feminine , begin to show
themselves at an early age. There are
a small boy and girl in the city who ,
in conversation the other day , showed
this very notably , says the New York
Times. They are particularly bright
children , a little son and daughter of
clever parents , who talk to the child
ren very much as they would to older
people. So when in talking together
the other day something was men
tioned which they did not understand ,
the children immediately began to
discuss the pros and cons. The little
girl is seven and the boy a couple of
years younger. The former has a
habit while she is dressing of talking
to herself. "Arm , go in , " she will say ,
as she puts on one garment , and "Foot
go in , " as she puts on another. The
small boy had noticed this , and spoke
to her about it. "Why do you say ,
'Foot , go in , ' and 'Arm , go in' ? " he
inquired. Why don't you say , 'Me
go in' ? " "Why , it isn't 'me' that
goes in , " replied the small girl , "it is
just my arm or my foot. What is
'me , ' anyway ? " The small boy thought
earnestly for a moment. "Why , 'me , '
is your head and stomach , " he finally
answered. "No , " said the small girl ,
"I think 'me' is your head and heart. "
Which proves posith'ely that even in
early years the ego of the man is his
stomach and that of the woman her
heart.
His tetter to the Judjic.
"Will you please , sun , lemme know , "
wrote a colored prisoner to the judge ,
"des w'en my case'll come up fer con-
wiction ? I been in jail , suh , 'bout
eight months ez de crow fly , en I hez
a sorter restless feelin' er wantln' ter
know des w'en my conwiction'll come
off. * ! writes disrsuh , kaze I jfeels it
inffiy - j'ints dat * de spring season is
comin' on.jm hj ome"ter mgdat you
might go ffishinr en ferglt de timQ fer
my'conw.iction. .Do , ef'-ypu please , suh ,
* e'eiPmein min7"en do ' 'by mf ez you
spects ter. , be did by."r Atlanta Con
stitution. .
"
Polite CWnamen5 consider itja'breach
of etiquette" wear specfocles in com-
panyT * . *
- *
. , . i i. , . . . . . . . , A tl % - * - \ 4 _ _ \ * _ x < ws , -s t-J' * 9 . 4 * u * < w * * J
li > liili i i .iJii :
7 { > xjx : x > * x.
* i < - . K i f m > ' V H v / 7 V TV ' B * *
ON THE -vi i 'i'ir-i - ]
eg WM I IILV ULrV i s c j
if / " / - ' -7-r ZX- * = * " i
' " " " * * * ' _ . .
- A r if A f * "W * 't j v * *
A couth African
xtx
In the kitchen of a Boer farm at
*
Sarrismith two brothers , Paul ; and
.iendrick Hoopstad , sat in earnest con
versation.
"Will you come , Hendfick ? " - .
. . "I cannot leave , Paul ; there is-'Eng-
.
ish iff our veins , and , besides ; to join
.he commando - against the JBritish
vculd be taking nip arms against the
voman I love. " / iA
'
"The woman we love , Hendrick , for
5od knows tfiat T think of her every
ninute of my life. You and I have
) een all in all to each other ever since
ve were born ; but this mutual love for
> Jancy Martin seems likely to divide
is. Even supposing we put our chances
o the test , if I win her you will hate
ne , and if you were successful my
noughts would turn to you in anger ,
et us then take our rifles , join the
ornmando , and for the time forget her ,
ind perhaps when the war is over one
) f us may gain by death what the
ither could not give in life. "
"I will not fight against the Eng-
ish , Paul. "
"Think well , Hendrick. Nancy Marin -
in has been in England for the last
our years is it not possible that she
nay have an English lover ? "
"We are being enticed and threaten-
id into a foolhardy war by those who
lave their own ends to serve. I will
ake my rifle and fight , but it will be
vith the English. "
"Then , Hendrick , we must part ,
hough we part in all affection. God
less you , my brother , and the woman
ve love. "
"Farewell , Paul , and God grant that
ve may not meet on the battlefield. "
Paul turned his horse toward New-
astle , while Hendrick rode in the op-
osite direction , with the intention of
naking his way to John Martin's farm ,
diich lay on the banks of the Caladon
iver , between Basutol and Natal.
Hendrick Hoopstad's love for Nan-
y , the only daughter of John Martin ,
if the Caladon farm , was the one
bought that engrossed his mind. He
oved her , and was willing to lay down
its life for her without thought of re-
ward : . It § night f > e as John had sug
gested , that Nancy hadan English
lover ; well , ' time1 would show , and
whateverJ-happened he" would always
strive to be worffoy. of her , and be will-
o serve , hePm any way in his
pq.wer. - .
In about threes-hours "Tie had sighted
Johin Martin's farm. JDbwn the hill
Hemlrick'7ret ; th'ereins' drop on his
horse.'s neck and/Tiroceefled at a walk
ing pace.It wasva calm , still even
ing , and the horse's hoofs made no
sound on the soft sand.
Reaching the orchard the sound of
voices fell upon his ear , and almost
mechanically he stopped his horse and
listened. It was the voice of Nancy
he heard. And standing in his stir
rups he looked over the brush growth.
Yes. Paul was right ; she was stand
ing beneath the shade of a spreading
tree , a tall man , dressed in the British
kharki uniform , held her in his arms ,
her head upon his shoulder and her
lips upturned to his.
"The time was so long , Dick , I
thought you would never come. "
"Did you , darling ? Well , I have
come at last , though I could wish a
more peaceful time for visiting my
beautiful sweetheart. But when this
war is over I will make you my
wife. "
"My love for you , Dick , can never !
change. . Since I left you it has lived
on the memory of those sweet hours
of delirious happiness when we used
to sit together in the sunshine and
plan the joyful future when we two
shall be always together. "
The man on the horse heard the
words that pierced his heart like the
stab of a dagger. For some moments
he sat like a statue , his face grim and
set , and his eyes staring into blank-
ness. The steed moved forward of its
own accord and wandered on for up
wards of an hour , while its rider sat cl
wrestling with himself. Then , with a cltl clp
sigh and a sob that almost choked him tl
tlo
he gathered up the reins and once of
more turned towards John Martin's II
farm. IIG IIg
( To be continued. ) G
S
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
THE RESURRECTION. THE SUB
JECT LAST SUNDAY.
The Blooming of Flowers Fittingly Cel
ebrates tlio Uurntliig of Chrln's
Tomb Easter tl > o Snuon of Ho-
Jolclng- .
[ Copyright. 1900 , by Louis Klopsch. ]
Text : John xlx. 41 , "In the garden a
new sepulcher. "
Looking around the churches this
morniug.seeing flowers in wreaths and
flowers in stars and flowers in crosses
and flowers In crowns , billows of
beauty , conflagration of beauty , you
feel as if you stood in a small heaven.
You say these flowers will fade. Yes ,
but perhaps you may see them again.
They may be immortal. The fra
grance of the flower may be the spirit
of the flower ; the body of the flower
dying on earth , its spirit may appear
in better worlds. I do not say it will
be so. I say it may be so. The an
cestors of those tuberoses and camel
lias and japonicas and jasmines and
heliotropes wera born in paradise.
These apostles of beauty came down
in the regular line of apostolic suc
cession. Their ancestors during the
flood , underground , afterward ap
peared.
The world started with Eden ; it will
end with Eden. Heaven is called a
paradise of God. Paradise means flow
ers. While theological geniuses in this
day are trying to blot out everything
material from their idea of heaven ,
and , so far as I can tell , their future
state is to be a-floating around some
where between the Great Bear and
Cassiopeia , I should not be surprised
if at last I can pick up a daisy on the
everlasting hills and hear it say : "I
am one of the glorified flowers of
earth. Don't you remember me ? I
worshiped with you on Easter morn
ing in 1900 ? "
My text introduces us into a garden.
It is a manor in the suburbs of Jeru
salem owned by a wealthy gentleman
by the name of Joseph. He belonged
to the court of seventy , who had con
demned Christ , but he had voted in
the negative , or , being a timid man ,
had absented himself when the vote
was to be taken. At great expense he
laid out the garden. It being a hot cli
mate , I suppose there were trees
broad branched , and there were paths
winding under these trees , and here
and there were waters dripping down
over the rocks into the ponds.and there
were vines and flowers blooming from
the wall , and all around the beauties
of kiosk and aboricultufe. After the
fatigues of the Jerusalem -courtroom ,
how refreshing to come into this su
burban retreat , , botanical arid"promo- =
logical ! - . . . . -
Most Celebrated of Tombs.
Wandering in the garden , I behold
Eome rocks which have on them the
mark 'of the sculptor's chisel. I come
nearer , and I find there" Is a subterranean -
nean recess. I come down the marble
steps , and I come to a portico , over
which there is an architrave , by the
chisel cut into representatives of
fruits and flowers. I enter the porE
tico. On either side there are rooms
-two or four or six rooms of roclc ,
the walls of these rooms having
niches , every niche large enough to
.hold a dead body. Here is one room
that is especially wealthy of sculp
ture.
ture.The
The fact is that Joseph realizes he
cannot always walk this garden , and
he has provided this place for his last
slumber. Oh. what a beautiful spot
in which to wait for the coming of the
resurrection ! Mark well this tomb ,
for it is to be the most celebrated tomb
in all the ages. Catacombs of Egypt ,
tomb of Napoleon , Mahal Taj of India ,
nothing compared-with it. Christ has
just-been murdered-"and" his Tio'dy"will
be thrown to the dogs and the ravens ,
like other crucified bodies , unless there
be prompt and .efficient hindrance.
Joseph , the owner of this mausoleum
in the rocks , begs for the body of
Christ. He washes the poor , mutilated
frame from the dust and blood.shrouds
it and perfumes it.
I think that regular embalmment
was omitted. When in olden time a
body was to be embalmed , the priest ,
with some pretension of medical skill ,
would point out the place between the
ribs where the incision must be made ;
and then the operator , having made
the incision , ran lest he be slain for a
violation of the dead. Then the other
priests would come with salt of niter n
and cassia and wine of palm tree and
complete the embalmment. But I
think this embalmment of the body of
Christ was omitted. It would have
raised another contention and another
riot.
riot.The
The funeral hastens on. Present , I .
think , Joseph , the owner of the mauso- u
eum ; Nicodemus , the wealthy man
who had brought the spices , and the
two Marys. No organ dirge , no
plumes , no catafalque. Heavy bur
den for two men as they carry Christ's :
body down the marble stairs and into
the portico and lift the dead weight to ;
the level of the niche in the rock an'l
push the body of Christ into the only
pleasant resting place it ever had.
Coming forth from the portico , they
close the door of rock against the re
cess. F
cess.The
The government , afraid that the dis SE
ciples may steal the body of Christ and tc ;
tcal
play resurrection , order the seal of alvi
the sanhedrin to be put upon the door vi
the tomb , the violation of that seal , tl ;
like the violation of the seal of the is
itT
government of the United States or T
Breat Britain , to be followed with Bt
great punishment. A company of sol- et
dicrs from the tower of Antonia la
detailed to stand guard.
Shuttered Heyoml Kepalr.
At the door of the mausoleum a
fight takes places which decides the
question for all graveyards and ceme
teries. Sword of lightning against
sword of steel. Angel against mili
tary. No seal of letter was ever more
easily broken than that seal of the
sanhedrin on the door of the tomb.
The dead body in the niche in the
rock begins to move in its shroud of
fine linen , slides down upon the pave
ment , moves out of the portico , ap
pears in the doorway , advances into
the open air , comes up the marble
steps. Having left his mortuary at
tire behind him , he comes forth In
workman's garb , as I take It , from the
fact that the women mistook him for
the gardener.
That day the grave received such
shattering it can never be rebuilt. All
the trowels of earthly masonry can
never mend it. Forever and forever
it is a broken tomb. Death , taking
side with the military in that fight ,
received a terrible cut from the an
gel's spear of flame , so that he him
self shall go down after awhile under
it. The king of terrors retiring be
fore the king of grace ! The Lord is
risen ! Let earth and heaven keep
Easter today ! Hosanna !
Some things strike my observation
while standing in this garden with a
new sepulcher. And , first , post mor
tem honors in contract with ante-mor-
tem ignominies. If they could have
afforded Christ such a costly sepul
cher , why could not they have given
him an earthly residence ? Will they
give this piece of marble to a dead
Christ instead of a soft pillow for the
living Jesus ? If they had expended
half the value of that tomb to make
Christ comfortable , it would not have
been so sad a story. He asked bread ;
they gave him a stone.
Christ , like most of the world's
benefactors , was appreciated better
after he was dead. Westminster abbey -
bey and monumental Greenwood are
the world's attempt to atone by honors -
ors to the dead \for wrongs to the liv-
ing. Poets' corner in Westminster
abbey attempts to pay for the sufferings -
ings of Grub street.
Go through that poets' corner in
Westminster abbey. There is Hant
del , the great musician , from whose
music you hear today ; but while I
look at his statue I cannot help but
think of the discords with which his
fellow-musicians tried to destroy him.
There is the tomb of John Dryden , a
beautiful monument ; but I can not
help but think at 70 years of age he ]
wrote of his being oppressed in fortune -
tune and of the contract that he had
just made for a thousand verses at six
pence a.line. . . And there , too , you find
the- monument of Samuel Butler , the
author of Hudibras ; " but while I j.
look i athis monument in poets' corner
I cannot but ask myself where he died.
In a garret" There I see the costly
tablet in the poets' corner the costly
tablet to one of whom the celebrated
Waller \ wrote : "The old blind schoolmaster
c
master , John Milton , has just issued
°
a tedious poem on the fall of man. If
the length of it be no virtue , it has 7
none. " There is a beautiful monument
ment to Sheridan. Poor Sheridan ! If *
he could have only discounted that
monument for a mutton chop ! aP
Make the Uvlnsr Happy.
Oh , you unfilial children , do not give
your parents so much tombstone , but 3"
few more blankets less funeral and
more bedroom ! If 5 per cent of the
money jyenojY.sueudou Burns' banquets - - n
quets could have been expended in
making the living Scotch poet comfort
able , he wouldinot have been harried
with the drudgery of an exciseman.
Horace Greeley , outrageously abused
while living , when dead is followed , ,
toward Greenwood by the president
the United States and the leading med
fl
of the army and navy. Massachusetts
tries toatone ! at the grave of Charles
Sumner for the ignominious resolu
tions with which her legislature de
nounced the living senator. Do you gi
think that the tomb at Springfield can tldi :
pay for Booth's bullet ? di
Oh , do justice to the living ! All the tcai :
justice you do them you must do this aiol
side the gates of the Necropolis. They olw
cannot wake up to count the number w
of carriages at the obsequies or to no- re
Lice the polish of the Aberdeen granite reh
or to read epitaphal commemoration. h
Gentleman's mausoleum In the suburbs gld
of Jerusalem cannot pay for Bethle d
hem's manger and Calcarean cross and -
Pilate's ruffian judiciary. Post mor m
tem honors cannot atone for ante-
tnortem ignominies. tt
Again , standing in this garden of the ca :
sepulcher , I am impressed with the it
fact that floral and arborescent decor- tl
itions are appropriate for the place of tlhi
Lhe dead. We are glad that among hi
lowers and sculptural adornments ,
Christ spent the short time of his in-
I cannot understand what I some ;
times see in the newspapers where the
jbsequiss are announced and the
iriends say in connection with it"Sonj
io flowers. " Rather , if the means al
ow I say if the means allow strew
he casket with flowers , the hearse if
flowers , the grave with flowers. ip
Put them on the brow it will suggest .
coronation ; in their hand it will >
iiean victory.
Christ was buried In a garden ,
flowers mean resurrection. Death is
iad enough anyhow. Let conserva- G.
ory and arboretum contribute to Its seta
illeviation. The harebell will ring ths som
ictory ; the passion flower will express ta
he sympathy ; the daffodil will kindle fix
lamp and illumine the
darkness , gr ;
rhe cluster of asters will be the con in
stellation. Your little child loved flow- inK :
rs when she waa living. Put them in
nor .an , no. that -
,
ol X * *
still heart.
and put It over the
Plant riowors.
glory than
has no grander
Brooklyn
than "a
Mount , ts Greenwood Auburn , , nor nor Philadelphia Boston than r-
than Its
its Laurel Hill , nor Cincinnat
Francisco than
Spring Grove , nor San
shall we
what
its Lone Mountain. But
with
graveyards
say to those country
slab
the
and
the vines broken .down
caved in and
aslant and the mound
for the
.ground
the grass a pasture .
sexton's cattle ? Indeed , were your
worth
father and mother of so little
take care of
that you cannot afford to
their ashes ? Some day turn out all
slab and
the
hands and straighten
and cut away the
bank up the mound
and uow-
the shrubs
weeds , and plant
ers.
Some day you will want to lie down
to your last slumber. You can not expect
bones if yon
pect any respect for your
have no deference for the bones of
your ancestry. Do you think these relics
? You will
importance
ics are of no
see of how much importance they are
in the day when the archangel takes
out his trumpet. Turn all your ceme
teries into gardens.
Again , standing in this garden of the
new sepulcher , I am impressed with
the dignity of private and unpretend
ing obsequies. / -
Joseph was mourner , sexton , livery
man had entire charge of everything.
Only four people at the burial of th
King of the Universe ! Oh , let this bo
consolatory < to those" who through lack ,
of < means or through lack of large ac
quaintance have but little demonstra
tion ] of grief at the graves of their
loved ] ones. Long line of glittering
equipage < , two rows of silver handles ,
casket of richest wood , pallbearers
gloved j and scarfed , are not necessary.
If ] there be six at the grave , Christ
looks ] down from heaven and remem
bers j that is two more than were at his
obsequies.
Not recognizing this idea , how many
small properties are scattered and wid
owhood and orphanage go forth into
cold charity ! The departed left a small
property , which would have been
enough to keep the family together un
til they could take care of themselves ,
but the funeral expenses absorbed ev
erything. That went for crape which
ought to have gone for bread. A man
of moderate means can hardly afford
to die in any of our great cities. By
all means , do honor to departed , but do
not consider funeral pageant as neces
sary. No one was ever more loving
ly and tenderly put away to sepulchar
than Christ our Lord , but there were
only four people in the procession.
Wako Up to Gladness.
Again , standing In this garden with
a new sepulcEeFTi amTmpressed with
.
the fact that you cannot keep the dead
,
down. r
Seal of sanhedrin , company of sol
diers from the tower of Antonia , floor
of rock , roof of rock , walls of rock ,
door of ro _ ck , cannoETceiep Christ in the
cryp'ts. Come but and come up he
must. Come out and come up he did.
Prefiguration. ! First fruits of them
that slept. Just as certainly as we
come . down into the dust , just so cer
tainly we will come up again. Though
all the granite of the mountains were
piled on us we will rise. Though
buried amid the corals of the deepest
cayernsottheAtlanticocean. _ we will
come to the surface.
With these eyes we may not look
into the.Jaceof the.noonday sun , but
welshall-have strbnger vision , because
the tamest thing in the land to which
we gojTvill be , brighter than the sun.
We shall have bodies with the speed
afthe 'lightning. . Our bodies : improv-
2dr energizedrswiftened ; "clarified
.
the -grave taken off its hinges and
flung flat into-the dust.
Oh , my brethren , death and the
sraye are not so _ much as they used
io be ; Jpr. while-wandering In this
garden with the new sepulcher I find
hat the vines'and flowers of the'gar-
len have completely covered up the
omb. Instead of one garden there
ire four gardens , opening into each
Jther garden of Eden , garden of the
vorld's sepulcher.garden of the earth's >
egeneration , garden of heaven. Four * '
jardens. Bloom , 0 earth ! Bloom , O
leaven < ! Oh , my friends , wake up to
jladness on this Easter morning ! This
lay , if I interpret it right , means joy
-it means peace with heaven , and it
neans peace with all the world.
Oh , bring more flowers ! Wreathe
.hem around the brazen throat of the
annon ; plant them In the desert that
may blossom like the rose ; braid
hem into the mane of the returned
var charger. No more red dahlias of
uiman blood. Give us white lilies of
jeace. All around the earth strew
faster flowers. And soon the rough
oyage of the church militant will be
nded , and she will sail up the heay-
inly harbor , scarred with
many a
louflict , but the flag of triumph float-
ng from her topgallants. All heaven
vill come out to greet her into port ,
ind with a long reverberating shout
welcome will say : "There she cornea
the bay , the glorious old ship Zion.
i.fter tempestuous voyage she drops f
nchor within the veil. "
> 'e\v Story of Kitchener.
A new story of Kitchener is said by
W. E. Russell to be "probably not
very far astray. " Cecil Rhodes
nade more or less
trouble for the mlli-
ary authorities in Kemberley and
Inally Col. Kekewich
one day hello
raphed Lord Kitchener that Rhodes"
Qterference was getting unbearable
kitchener's prompt answer waaYOU"
Lad better put him in chains ! "
