University of South Carolina Libraries
? 1 HARP OF IRELAND. BT KXL COURTLAHD. Oh I could -we hear those tones again O'er Erin's gleaming meadows, Methinks 'twould free the hills from stain And lift the land from shadows. Hark! listen now that rippliDg swell From castle, rock and river; 'Tis echoed back from fuchsia-bell? Our Ireland's harp a-quiver. It floats adovn the mountain Dass. That music of the ages; Tbe shamrock sleeps amid the grass. All closed the day-book's pages. Soft roses hide their pouting lips. The birds have ceased their singing, ' And near the land sail silent ships, For tbe harp of Ireland's ringing. It comes again, and yet once more, "Where seagulls fan tbe dim light; It lingers on the wave-washed shore, Then wanders up the starlight. Ana Delis in lunt iur vesper tuimo Have caught that music only. For It died away like an olden rhyme And left the midnight lonely. Anderson, s. c. iraDTHIWIW il fTMUHUlOiMll Tracing a DarK Crime. BY ALEXANDER ROBINSON, M. D. i # \ CHAPTER L EavTatrTat. I am a doctor,' and usually a light deeper, but on this night 1 must have overdone myself, for, having failed to arouse mo by jerking the office bell, the party outside had resorted to this violent means of pounding upon the door. Springing up, and now fully awake, I hastily slipped on my clothes. In the meantime, the party outside had given another series of scientific raps on the inoffensive panels of my door. "Be easy, there; I am coming," I called, tugging at a refractory boot. TiMnallv nouinned. I struck for the I door and opened it, having first turned up the flame of the night lamp, which had been left burning behind a screen. A man stood on the steDS. He was muffled up from the chill night sir so that his face was hardly visible. "Doctor, I want you." I bent forward to 'gain a better view of his countenance. "What you, Mr. Ketcham!" ' He nodded his head. This man, Abner Ketcham, was one of the shrewdest detectives in the whole city of New York. His name was a household word. Under many an alias the detective * hsd figured in the most important cases of the times. I knew him because wc had had some little business a month before, when I was fresh from my foreign travel and researches into the mysteries of the materia medica of the ancient Egyptians. At that time 1 had been enabled to do Mr. Eetcham a great favor, and he had taken a fancy to me. Possibly this might account for his calling me up at 3 o'clock in the morning, as I bad learned it was. "Allow me one minute to pnt on my hat and coat, sir, and I am with you." "Bring your case along, also every known antidote for poison," he said. I did as he requested. We were soon outside, and for the first time I noticed that a carriage stood near the curb. , "In with you, Doctor. Back again, driver, and uon't spare horse flesh." I began to be interested. The words of the detective, together with certain other things that coma do takeu Id to.- consideration, seemed to foreshadow some event beyond the ordinary. We started off at a round pace. Though bursting with curiosity, I would aot say a word, knowing Mr. Ketcham too well for that. At last he spoke. "I have a case for you, Doctor, that will try your skill." nfftl/iAttia 4 r\ if OI > W JL UU 1C TTCIWUJO UV i U, Oil. "Have you ever met Dr. Seabury?" "I have seen him and heard much of him, but have no personal acquaintance. * He had mentioned the name of a physician noted for his knowledge in the line of toxicology. There never yet had been any case in %ho way of poisons, present or ancient, which, submitted to him, could not bo readily solved. Mr. Ketch am said no more. I was left to take it for granted that I was to be a co-laborer with the great Doctor Seabury upon some intricate ca?<e. The thought flattered me. Though I had never had any personal acquaintance with the old gentleman, I was following in his footsteps, having made toxicology or the science of poisons in their relation to the human body my life study. Ho must have heard of me, then, and needing assistance on some point on which he was not positive, had sent for me I could seo Mr. Ketcham's eyes upon my facc every little while. No doubt he wondered why I refrained from asking questions; but I had read my man before, and knew that the easiest way to his regard was silence and selfpossession at all times. , Hence, I determined to be surprised at nothing, no matter what might happen, The rattle and bang caused by sucb rapid progress over the stony streets was far from being conducive to comfort, even 11 one were inamea xo iaiK. At length the vehicle drew up close to the curb. "Here we are, Doctor," said the detective, as he opened the door he had Deen nervously lingering, ana leaped out. I followed more sedately, as I had a, eoaple of small cases to look after. Glancing up, I discovered that we were before a house that was peculiar, not only in itself but because its class is almost obsolete in New York, where every r\f rrr/mnH "ie urnHn crrftftt HaslI nf IWU VI g,ivuuw 40 <r v* V4* M *-v?u w. money. The house fronted on the street, but it baa a side yard, which was, 1 had ntf doubt, a garden, although a high wall1 prevented me from making sure of this. I could just catch a glimpse of a stablb In the rear. We walked up the steps. Mr. Ketcham opened the front door irt " cv m nwnar +Vlof MlH ]lf> ITH C 2* live aiiU COO J Iliaiiuvi 1>UWW W.v. "W ^perfectly familiar with its working. There was not a soul in the hall. The gas burned dimly. A glance around showed me that it was the abode of one who certainly possessed, wealth, and who had traveled a great deal, for every foot of space 6eenied to Lave some valuable ornament, painting or bit of bric-a-brac, such as a man of taste ana unlimited raems would pick up during years spent abroad. "Up-stairs, Doctor," said the detective. I followed on. My feet sank into the softest of Persian carpets upon the stairs. I was uuzzlinK mv brain to determine the na I ture of the peculiar .Eastern odor that j seemed to steal. so softly upon one's | senses, and could imagine myself once more In an Oriental house with a Turkish host. Mr. Ketcham opened a door and stood there to allow me to enter first. The chamber was apparently a bedroom. though the curtains and draperies hung around hid the bed and bewildered me at first. A soft light was diffused through the 'apartment by a lamp of strange construction, that stood upon a table, the 1 ?nf Ioncr pip. JC-gS* \J1 WUJCU nciu liiuuu ?vuC phants' tusks. Around me were a thousand things marking the tastes of the man who had fittpd the room ud. Tbese fflfl" nOt draw my attention now beyond a sweeping glance. I turned to Mr. Eetcham, who had silently entered the room, closing the door, and stood beside me. "You are wondering why I brought JUU UCiC) x/uvwi 4 "I admit it, sir." "Before we go any further I wish to say a few words. Id my experience you can well understand I have seen some strange things, many of which bordered on the impossible, and yet, Doctor, I can solemnly assure you, that in this room I have come across one, which, all things considered, promises to be the most proJound mystery that has ever crossed my path." I started at his words. Their impressiveness lent a new interestto the affair. Tbe lamp niCKerea, as a umufjuk i from an open window struck it I took a step in that direction, with the intention of closing the window, but, comprehending my intention, the detective laid a hand on my arm. "Leave it open, Doctor. I have t? reason for such a thing. It affords me a clue to the crime." Crime! Then some evil deed had been done? murder perhaps! I set my sachels down, ready lor business when the detective chose to act He dropped into a chair. "Turn the lamp up, Doctor." I examined the remarkable lamp, that certainly had been imported, for its like had never been seen in this country before, and finding out that a touch on a littlo silver ball was all that was necessary, I soon accomplished his desire. "No^, please step over to the bed yonder, and quietly draw back the curtain." His voice was calm, but I could detect an undercurrent oi excitement in it? something I ha J never imagined a man of his iron nerve ar.d inflexible purpose allowed himself to indulge in. My thoughts were running riot as I advanced toward the tapestries that served as curtains to the bed. What was about to meet my eyes? Was there a horrible sight presented behind that screen? The rich Oriental figure of the tapestry to my excited gaze seemed to become a writhing mass of silver and gold serpents twining about each other, and the rustling oi the autumn-tinted leaves outside the ot>en window resolved itself into their hissing. With an effort of my will I laid hold upon the curtain. "Draw it back, Doctor," said Mr. Ketcham, quietlv. I did so. The curtain was hung upon rings that glided along a silver rod attached to the side of the canopy overhead, for the bed, although massive and richly carved, was of an antique pattern. It wi^s occupied. ' Upon vhe pillow rested the head of an elderly man, with a snow-white beard and a grand face, whifch seemed stamped with the seal of death. In that minute of silence I felt that I ronld hear the beatine of my heart, while the ticking of the little ormolu clock upon the ebony secretary in one , corner of the chamber sounded as the pounding of a great hammer. For a short space of time l gazed almost in stupefaction at the face of the dead. Then, breaking from the spell that oad come upon me, I started back with <t low cry. 1 e Mr. Ketcham sat there by the table, his hand toying with a paper cutter in the form of a dagger, and his eyes fixed, not on me, but upon a certain spot upon the ceiling. This was a favorite attitude of bis, ? 3 1 ? ? >? - J mV>nn ftl?nCQ. anu lit? U9MIUICU ll> ^CUCl nuvu V4VKW questioning a man. Then, again, he had a way of bringing those keen orbs of his suddenly to bear upon the face of the party opposite him, and at such times they seemed, to blaze and pierce into the very soul, as though he strove to read one's thoughts. Controlling myself x as well as I was able under the peculiar circumstances of the case. I walked toward tne lame %r.a quietly sat aown in a chair that seemed to invite occupancy. "Doctor, you are surprised?" he said, at last, coolly, as he turned his head and looked at me with a smile. I might have denied the soft impeachment, but of what avail? uMr. Ketcham, I admit it I am both urprised and mystified." "You are no worse off than myself. Remember what I told you. There is a ctrurifra mnrv?T t.hAt, will reouire much hard work to solve it." "Will you throw some light upon the subject?why am I brought here?" "All in Rood time. Doctor. You have seen the old gentleman wJtio lies yonder?" with a motion of the thumb toward the bed. "I have." "Do you recognize him?" "Certainly." "Beyond all reason of doubt?* j "It is Dr. Seabury himself." Mr. Ketcham rubbed his hands and < Bailed.- i CHAPTER II. In the daily pursuit of his business i the old detective saw so much of death that he was not apt to be deeply impressed in the presence of the grim ?onster. I soon discovered this iae'u. "When you mentioned the name of the Cld Doctor, I thought you were taking Jilt; wj uave u uuiisuiuaiiuu wiiu uiiu.~ A dry chucKie was tne only answer. "If h6 is dead, I do not sec what good a doctor would be. A detective might prove of more assistance to you, sir." His eyes were searching the figures of the paper on the ceiling. "That is where you mistake, Doctor. I never yet called on a> detective to aid me in a case, but more than once I have been well assisted by a lawyer or a doctor. In the present instance you have made a mistake which I hasten to correct. I did not call you in to consult with the old physician, nor even to administer an antidote, as you may have thought from my asking you to fetch along your ease, ror even at mat moment I knew, beyond all shadow of doubt, that the renowned old Dr. Seabi?rv was a dead man." -faraon me, tnen, -Mr. ftetcnam, nut what in the deuce did you call me in for? A doctor is powerless after death comes." "Powerless to save, perhaps, but not to aid the stern arm of legal vengeance." His impressive words sounded like the r ? ! 1? ? rr /if n irm.rr 3fclJI\UJ? Vi a There was something back of this. I had believed it a natural death, or, at the worst, suicide. His words suggested a deeper yein. Mr. Ketcham, am I to Infer that a crime has been committed here?" ' f UW" "iou arc to iook lor evidences oi mur- r" der. nt I sprang to ifly feet. "Before I do so, you must tell me 81 what you know of this strange thing, for I cannot work in the dark." a ilT /l/x *./-? VAil Ctllfl.11. n no tor. x uu uuu uicau jvu There are a few little things which you inay not care to hear, but the main part " of the story shall be yours. Sit down 0 again. There is time enough for work." u I settled myself in the easy chair, and w prepared to listen. " The old dctectivo was a good storyteller. His voice was low and impressive, 61 and he brought out the strong points in w his line with an emphasis that forced a them upon my consideration. "I have known Dr. Seabury for r,omo l< six montns. ne came to my office one -5- " mu noMnniil 9/>nn8.lntfl,nCft b uaj , ttuu UJ?U? wj |/v<* ovi.v.. Before that time I had made use of bim a in his professional capacity on several y occasions, and had come to respect him It highly. "On the occasion of,his visit to me, ho gave me to understand that he had an t< enemy of whom he was in mortal fear, a h party who had once followed him from India to England, seeking his life, anu H lost track of him there. "Of late the old Doctor had been warned in some way that the enemy had discovered the fact of his being in New York, and not a day passed without his being in fear of a visit from this party, who had sworn that oceans should not .1 stand in the way when vengeance for some real or fancied wrong was to be #1 wrought "H~worried Dr. Seabury so that he d could not sleep nighte. D "At his suggestion I had a private ti telegraph wire run from his house to my den, where some one was to be always on hand to answer a call. * "This was not the first time such a lucky windfall had come to me, and a man is a fool when he refuses to cater to o the whims of a rich man. "Some months went by without any n alarm, and I began to look on the thing is a soft job. "To-night at ten. minutes past two I ? was aroused from a light slumber by the o alarm. "It had come at last. "Luckily I had thrown myself on a b sofa in the den without more than kick- Q Ing my boots off, so that in one minute J was out on the street and running for all I was worth in this direction. Q "I made good time, and in not more than ten minutes reached the house. & "The Doctor had shown me how to P open the door, and I entered quietly. n "All was as still as a graveyard, and to mo tprrihlv dllPfitiVP.. "The gas jet in the lower hall was al- & lowed to burn low all nigh,t, so I easily ll found my way up stairs. "This door, which we used in entering, was locked on the insid?- * "I listened, "but could not hear even the o slightest sound. "The Doctor had shown me a means of v entering his'office and study adjoining g this room, by way of a closet in an old is lumber room next to it tl "When I entered here that window was open as you se? it, the lamp flared ti and flickered in the draught, and~the old physician lay there?dead. ?Af fire* T fhrmirht. >ie miffht, havfl felt d the pangs of approaching dissolution, and, lacking the power to cry oat, had a pnssed the knob in the wall beyond the < ted there, which sounded the alarm in y my den. "A minute's examination convinced me > Vbat such was not the case, for in hia n other hand, tightly pressed, he held tbls Ddd little flask?a miniature phial." k He handed it to me. It was made of crystal, and contained k i few grains of powder. tl I drew out the stopper and smelled of the contents, feeling rather than see- a tng the eyes of Mr. Ketcbam upon me. r' "You recognize the scent, Doctor?" he isked, somewhat eagerly for him. 0 "I do, emphatically." "It is an odor which, once caught, can * never be mistaken. Am I right?" c "Perfectly so, Mr. Ketcbam." "What is it that crystal phial con- I tains?" q "I am almost ready to swear a few u ~ ?9 a niwrtiiln* nn/1 /IftoHln ^r^lliS Ui Ut tUU?b OJUgUJCbi auu uuaui; poison found in (he Pyramids of Egypt ?a poison that has baffled the known k world to tell the origin of or find an an- c, lidote for. Dr. Seabury himself offered t no means of determining its origin, p tvhich is lost in mystery." g "I thought so Just such a poison, p then, as a man might take if he do- c lired to baffle the skill of the best physi- u elans?" I shrugged my shoulders. ^ Jit is certain death." , ^ "Go near tho bed again and bend over th6 dead man. See if you can detect this odor about his lips." I did so, and reported in the affirmative. Dr. Seabury had undoubtedly taken 4.t ,*mA n.;4k ?1 IDlb IllUSb lttUfci Ui rr i tu ouiuuai intent. * As this fact became apparent to me, I ? began to feel master of the situation. All that Mr. Ketcham had said now dwindled into insignificance before the report of my superior wisdom. "5 For the moment I was puffed up with a sense of my importance. Mr. Ketcham . did not glance at me, but I knew he was well aware of my condition. p Afterward, looking back, I wondered how it was he did not literally jab a knife A into the balloon of self-importance I had inflated, and allow it to collapse. F I was indebted to him for letting me down easy. ' * "Doctor, how about this poison; does it leave any traces behind?" he asked. v "That is the peculiar part ol it, Mr. Ketcbam. It assimilates with the blood,- ^ and passes at once into the system; -9 while it kills the action of the heart in from ten seconds to a minute, it would be Impossible for the most learned physician T to state positively that the man had not died from a natural cause?disease of the heart." g The old detective gave a whistle. MA most dangerous dust to fall into the A hands of an unscrupulous man." "He would become a modern malo Borgia, undoubtedly." "Still the odor seems to linger, Doo(nr." "It will for some time; but it would ^ not be recognized by any physician who j, Lad not received a special training in e this line of his business." "1 presume, Doctor. nn the face of this t matter, you are disposed" to call it a 4 suicide?** ? "Undoubtedly, sir." s, "And would return borne with that conviction." "If you arc done with me." "I might get on without your assist- c1 ance from this point on. but for several ? reasons, which I will not state. I prefer * that vou remain with me." 0 "As you will, sir." e( "To begin with, Doctor, how about n this poison?I have known those that ?> clogged the action oi the heart to dis- o color the skin upon the left chest, as the o returning blood failed to find an outlet ei from the pumping ventricle of the heart." a "J have neve;- heard of that being tho case with this poison, tir." ti ? C- .1 4l.M? "j; woum surprise you imm w uuu umu c< fucLi was the case?" ti "Very much, indeed." n "Perhaps another thing would aston- * Ish you considerably. Listen to me, Doctor. When I)r. Seabury snatched up C) that crystal phial and swallowed a small w part of the contents, his horrified eyes p rested uuon the face of the Dartv he had g a 3 long feared, and who Had lollowed im about over most of the world." HIS V01CC was cajm, nis wurus luiyro* ive They struck mc forcibly, and I looked t Mr. Ketcham with great wonder. "Are you sure of that, sir?" "I am in possession of 'facts which 'arrant me in saying, beyond all shadow f doubt, that some agile party climbed p the vines clinging to the side of the -all of the house, and crept in at the 'indow. "When the old Doctor saw them, tho :are causcd him to swallow the poison, rhich he Kept near him for the purpose, nd then striking the electric bell in the 'all, summoned me to avenge if too late j save." "Avenge! Why, sir, you say he died y his own hand. Then how could you 1. l.o rru? Ar^A la Ka. venge sucii a, v/ui twr x uu u^cu to w ond your reach, even did the law allow n "It all depends whether the poison had ime to kill him. Please be so kind as 3 look for the dark traces above his eart, of which I spoke." 1 jumped to my feet, feeling that thero 'as a hidden meaning in his words. A minute later I gave vent to a low cry bat told of amazement. I had made a discovery. CHAPTER IIL Mr. Ketcbam did not leave ms cnair. HiB positive gaze was fastened upon tie ceiling, as though those mystic lines nd writhing serpents held him en- J trailed. I had found the old Doctor's night ress opened at the throat, and when I ared His left chest, according to direcions, I made the discovery that brought 1 >rth the low cry from my lips.' "Ah, Doctor, is it as I mentionod?" sked the detective, calmly. "No, sir." "Still you seem to bo much perturbed ver something." "I have come upon a fact that I fancy iust have been known to you, sir." "Indeed; what is that?" "I see upon the white garment, Just ver his heart, what appears to bo a drop f blood, hardly dry." "Examine It closer, Doctor.* "Great heaven! Sir, the garment has , een punctured by some small weapon, ot much thicker than a darning needlo." Still he wfcs unmoved. His eyes persisted in remaining glued pon the fantastic figures above. i "It stands to reason, Doctor, according 1 mv JHna that, anv wfianon to have unctured the linen and drawn hlood lust have entered the flesh." I bent my head lower to examine. Not satisfied, I went over to my ease, nd, taking out a probe, proceedod to avestigate more fully. The case was certainly becoming moro itensely interesting as we proceeded, nd I could now confess that there was. deed, more about it than had appearod n the surface. I vividly remembered what this old and eteranf detective had declared with reard to the mystery?that It gave promle of proving the most remarkablo ono bat had ever crossed his path. ^ In two minutes I had arrived at a cerEtin conclusion. "It is as I suspected, sir." "Ah! Doctor, tell me what yon havo iscovered. "There is a small but deep puncture of peculiar nature Just at this point." "From your observations, what would ou imagine had caused the wound?" i "I have seen a dagger, called by the lalays a creese, that would be apt to lake such a wound." He smiled broadly at. my words, and I new I had echoed some thought of his. "Doctor, you builded better than you :new that time. Do you know whether tie \zea?Qft ve.ni.into the heart?" -ui course only a post-mortem examin* tion could prove that, but I have no eason to doubt It." *Then why did not the blood gush ut?" "The strange weapon was immediately rithdrawn, and, the lips of the wound losing, the blood floWed inwardly." /tATtnlnainn ^vor?tlV TV?rt/ir. VflW. I wish to put a Question which will reuire a moment's thought on your part 3 answer. Are youreadi?" "Proceed, M?. Ketch am?" "According ? lo your professional nowledge, keeping all the facts of- tho ase before your mind, is there any posiive way of learning this important: oint, viz.:"?and his quick eyes were lued upon my face?"had the deadly oison time to work before that Malay reese was buried momentarily in his eart?" This was a technical problem, but I ad already solved it to my own satisfaction. fTO BE CONTINUED. | TEMPERANCE. DRINK IS STILL OUR MASTER. or fifty years, 'mid taunts and jeers, We've Braved life's censuring tattle; rn, stayed by naught, we've bravely fought, To win the temperance battle. ruth's gleaming blade the foe has stayed, Averted much disaster, ret small the gains for all our pains, For Drink is still our master. tll undismayed we've worked and prayed, And yet the day's scarce dawning; 'or some, alas! still love the glass, In spite of all oar warning. jid men of prayer who aid this snare Are still here to astound us; 'or drunkards' wives their bitter lives Are weeping out arouud us. .Ithough our cause gains great applause, ' An proved each fresh suggestion, Ve find mankind still strangely blind Concerning this great question. Pe're lauded so, where'er we go, It surely needs explaining, 17 hy men decline our pledge to sign, Yet praise us for abstaining. i I 'hough old and young, by anguish wrung. The Drink Fiend slaughters daily, he good and wise will shut their eyes, And quaff the wine-cup gaily. o never swerve, but brace etch nerve To face life's din and rattle; ind come what may. let's work and pray Till we have won the battle. ?T. H. Evans, in Temperance Advocate. A CONGRESSMAN ON INTOXICANTS. Hon. M. D. Harter, recently re-elected to he Fifty-third Congress from the Fifteenth Congressional District of Ohio, during "the ite campaign, wrote to one of his coastituntf, saying: "bo far as my example coas it i? against oucbing, tasting, or handling intoxicating rink Iff nm tn decide between the use of rink myself and offering it to others, and a e-election to Congress, i shall be content to pend the next two years at horns." TRUE OF ALL COUNTRIES. It is said that one-fifteenth of Germany's u tured land is devoted to the liquor traffic, rniung it a question of beer or bread for be poorer clossrs of that country. The rink question in Germany is becjmiug one f acknowledged importance in its political conomy. ProfefSor Schmnller, of Berlin, an ble political economist, thm writes: Among our working people the conditions | i uoinesnc me, 01 euufetnou, ui prujperiby, f progress or degradation, are all dependnt on the proportion of income wnich flows own the father's t&roat. The whole conition of our lower and middle classss?one lay even, witnout exaggeration, say the Jture of our Nation?depends on tnis quesion. If it is true that half our paupers beoiue so through drink, it gives us some esuiate of the costly burden which we tolerte. No other of our vices bears comparison ith this." What is true economically of rermany, in connection with the liquor raflic, is true ako of our own and of other auntries to a greater or Jess degre?. It 'ould indeed be a great gain in material rosperity in nil countries to abolish altoether the urinfc traffic.?National 'fempernce Advocate. _ I kev. dr. talmage. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUN vai / . ' Subject: "Rizpah on the Rock." Text:' "And Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, took sackcloth and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until water dropped upon them out ol heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the. air to rest on them by day nor the beasts oj the field by night."?II Samuel xxL, 10. Tragedy that beats anything Shake* spearean or Victor Hngoian. After return( iog from the Holy Land I briefly touched nrrnn It hnfc T mnit hum m arhnln mrmon for that scene. The explosion and flash of gunpowder have 'driven nearly all the beasts and birds of prey from these regions.- and now the shriek of the locomotive whistle which is daily heard at Jerusalem will for many miles around clear Palestine of crael claw and beak. But in the time of the text those regions were populous with multitudes of jackals and liens. Seven sons of Saul had been crucified on a hill. Rizpah was mother to two and a relative to five of the boys. What had these boys done that they should be crucified? Nothing except to have a bad father and grandfather. But now that the boys were dead, why not take them down from the gibbets? No. They ara sentenced to hang there. So Rizpah takes the sackcloth?a rough shawl with which in mourning for her dead she had wrapped herself?ana spreads that sackcloth upon the rooks near the gibbet*. VU2U DUUJ mo pax v ui a miiuuo^ navuiwi^ and defending the dead. Tet every other sentinel is relieved, and after being on guqrd for a few hours some one else takes * his place. ' But Rizpah is on guard both day and night and for half a year. One hundred and eighty days and nights of obsequies. TV hat nerves she must have had to stand that I Ah. do you not know that a mother can stand anything? Ob, if she might be allowed to hollow a place id the side of the hill and lay the bodies of her children to quiet rest! If in some cavern of the mountains she might find for them Christian sepulture! Oh. if she might take them from toe gibbet of disgrace and carry them still farther away from the haunts of men, and then lie beside them in the last loog sleep! Exhausted nature ever and anon rails into slumber, but in a moment she breaks the snare and chides herself as though sbe had been cruel, and leaps up on the rock shouting at wild oeast glaring from the thicket ana at vulturous brood wheeling in the sky. The tnrilliog story of Rizpah reaches David and he oome? forth to hide the indecancy. The corpses had been chained to the trees. The chains are unlocked with horrid clank, and the skeletons are let down. All the seven are bnried, and the story ends; But it hardly ends before you cry out, "Whet a hard thins that those seven boys should suffer for the crimes of a father and grandfather P Tee, but it is always so. Let every one who does wrong know tnat ho wars not only, as in this case, against two generations, coildren and grandchildren, but against all the generations of coming time. That is what makes dissipation and uncleanness so awful. It reverberates in other times. It may skip one generation, but it is apt to come up in the third generation, as is suggested in the Ten Commandments, which say, "Visiting the ' iniquities of the father upon the children unto t&e third and fourth generation." Mind you, iC says nothing about the second generation, but mentions the third and the fourth. That acoounts for what you sometimes see?very good parantB with very 1 - ' " - * V. {,?],, Daa cnuaren. vju iat uiuu^u ... ancestral line and you find the source of all the turpitude. "Visiting the iniquities of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation." If wh9n Saul died the consequences of his iniquity oouid have died with him it would not have been bo sad. Alas, nol Look on that hill a few znile3 out from Jerusalem and see the ghastly burdens of those seven gibbets and the wan and wasted Rizpah watcning them. Go, to-day through the wards and almshouses and the reformatory institutions where unfortunate children are kept and you will find that nine out of ten had drunken or vicious parents. Yea, day by day on the streets of our cities you find men and women wrecked of evil parentage. They are moral corpses. Like the seven sons of Saul, though dead, unburied! Alas for R&pah, who, not for six months, but for years and years, has watched theml She cannot keep the vultures and the jackals off. Furthermore, this strange incident in the Bible story shows that attractiveness of i person and elevation of position are no se curity again t trouble. Who is this Rizp&h sittinz ia desolation? One of Saul's favorites. Her personal attractions bad won bis beart. She bad been caressed of fortune. With ^ mother's pride' she looked on her prinoelv -children. But the scene change*. Behold her in banishment and ber&iveaient?Rizpah on the rock 1 Some of tbe worst distresses have come to scenes of royalty and wealth. What porter at the mansion's gate has not let in champing and latherea steed bringing evil dispatch? un wnat wssueuaiou uou therp not stood tbe solemn bier? Under what exquisite fresco has there sot been enacted a tragedy of disaster? What curtained oouch bath heard no cry of pain? What harp hath never thrilled with sorrow? What lordly nature hath never leaned against carved pillar and made utterance of woe? Gall is not less bitter when quaffed from a golden chalice than when taken from a pewter mug. Sorrow is often attended by running lootmen and laced lackeys mounted behind. Queen Anne Boleyn is desolate in the palace of Henry yiu. Adolphus wept in German castles over the hypocrisy of friends. Pedro I. among Brazilian diamonds shivered with fear of massacre. Stephen of England sat on a rocking throne. And every mast of pride has been bent in the storm, and tbe highest mountains of honor and fame are covered with perpetual snow. Sickness will frost the rosiest cheek, wrinkle the smoothest brow and stiffen the sprightliest step. Rizpah quits the courtly circle and sits on the rock. Perhaps you look back upon scenes different from those in which now from day to day you mingle. You have exchanged the plenty and luxuriance of your father's house ror privation and trial known toGod and your own heart. The morning of life was flushed with promise. Troops of calamities since men nave inauo at?pet ni? upwu juu, Darkness has come. Sorrows have swooped like carrier birds from the sky and barged like jackals from th6 thicket You stand amid vour slain anguished and woe struck. Rizpah on the rock-. So it has been in all ages. Vashti must doff the spangled robes of the Persian court and go forth blasted from the palace gate. Hagar exchanges oriental comfort for the wilderness of Beersheba. Mary, queen of Scots, must pass out from flattery and I pomp to suffer ignominious death in the J castle of Fotheringay. The wheel of fortune | keeps turning, and mansions and huts exchange, and be who rode the chariot pushes the barrow, and instead oI the glare of festal lights is the simmering of the peat fire, and in place of Saul's palace is ths rock?the cola rock, the desolate rock. But that Is the place to which God comer. Jhcop. with his head on a stone, saw the shining ladder. Israel in the desert beheld the marshaling ot the fiery baton. John on barren Patmos heard trumpeting, and the dapping of wings, and the stroke of seraphic fingers on golden barps, and nothing but heavenly strength nerved Rizoah for her appalling mission amid the scream of wild birds ana the stealthy tread of hungry monsters. The grandest visions of glory, the most rapturous experiences o* Christian love, the greatest triumphs of grace have come to the tried, and tae hard pressed, and the betrayed, ana the crushed. God stooping down from heaven to cooifort Riz;>ah on the roc*. Asr&m, the tragedy of the text displays the courage of woman amid great emergencies. What mother or sister or daughtet would dare to go out to fight the cormorant and jackal? Rizpah did it. And so wouWI you 11 ail emergency ucumuucj. ?> uumu 13 naturalfy timid and shrinks from exoosurj an* depends on stronger arms for the achievement of great enterprises. And she is often troubled lest there might be occasions demanding fortitude when she would fail. Not so. Some of those who are afraid to loo'j out of the door after night-fall. and who quake in the darkness at the least uncertain sound, and who start at the slam of the door and turn pale in a thunderstorm, if the 'day of trial came, would be heroic and invulnerable. God has arranged it so that that woman needs the trumpet of some great contest of principle or.affection to rouse up hor slum " 1 bermg courage. Then vhe.wtO stand coder I the-crossfire of opposin* hosts at Chalons to give wine to the wounded. Then she will carry into prison and dark lane the message or salvation. Then the will brave the pestilence. Deborah goes out to rfound terror into, the hearts of God's enemies. Abigail throws herself between a raiding party of infuriated men and her husband's vineyards. fGeaah fights baok the vultures from the Among: the Orknky Islands an eagle swooped and lifted a child to its eyrie tar np on the mountains. With the spring of a panther the -mother mounts hill after hill, crag above crag, height above height, the fire of her own eye oatflashing the glare of the eagle's, and with unmailedhand stronger than the iron beak and the terrible claw she burls the wild bird down tha rocks, In the French revolution Caratte was brought oat to be executed, when his daughter threw herself on the body of her father and said: "Strike, barbarians! Tou cannot reach my father bat through my heart I" The crowl parted, and linking arms father and daughter walked oat frea. Daring the siege of Saragossa, Angastina carried refreshments to the gates. Arriving at the battery of PortiUo she foaad that AV. ? ka/1 KAMI WSIIA/4 flka anaf/th ail MID gCU ATUU uau WTOU aiuuu. Muvauiarv?wu a match from the band of a dead artilleryman and fired off a twenty-six pounder, then leaped on it and vowed ?be would not leave it alive. The soldiers looked in and saw h?r daring and rushei up and opened anothar tremendous fire on toe enemy. ? The life of James L of Scotland was threatened. Poets have sang those times and able pens have lingered upon the story of manly endurance, but how few to tell thr ? story oI Catharine Douglas, one of tae queen's maids, who raa to bolt the door, but lound the bar had been taken away so as to facilitate the entranca of the anawin! Shs thrust her arm into the staple. Ttxe murderers rushing against it* her arm was shattered. Yet bow many have since lived and died who never heard, tbetobcaing, self sacrificing, heroic story of Catharine Doug1 A I arm I JOS EUIU UOl pwt, Ptwwwvw tmmmmm* Ton know how calmly Mme. Roland went to execution and bow cheerfully Joanna ot Naples walked to the castle ot Mora, and how fearlessly Mme. Grimaldi listened to her condemnation, and how Charlotte Cor* > day smiled npon the frantic mob that pursued her to the guillotine. Anl taere would be no end to tne recital if I attempted to present all the historical incident* waich show that woman's oourage would rouse itself for great emergency. But I need not go so far. Ton have known some one who was considered a mere butterfly in society. Her hand had known no toil. Her eye had -wept no tear orer misfortune. She moved among obsequious admirers as careless as an Insect in a field of blossoming buckwheat. But in 1807 financial tempest struck the husband's estate. Before he had time to reef sail, and things snug the ship capsize 1 and went Hnurn Rnamlui nhoArnri at toA minfortane and wondered what would become of the butterfly. Good men pitied and said she would me of a broken heart "She will not work." say they, "and she is too proud to be?." But the prophecies have failed. Disaster has transformed the shining sluggard into a practical worker? happy as a princess, >though compelled to hush her own child to sleep and spread her own table and answer the ringing of her own doorbell. Her arm had been muscled for theoonflict against misfortune, hangar and poverty and want, and all tae other jackals Rizpah scares from the rock. 1 saw one in a deeolat# home. Her merciless companion had pawned even the children's shoes for rum. From honorable an/uwfw aha hud come down to this. Th9 cruse of oil was empty and the last candle gone oat. Her faded frock was patched with fragments of antique silk that abe had worn on the bright marriage day. Confident in God, she bad a strong heart, to which her children ran when tuav tr ambled at the 'staggering step and quaked under a father's curse. Though the heavens were filled witb fierce wings and the thickets gnasb9 i with rage, RJzpab watched faithfully day after day and year after year, and wolf and comorant by her God strengthened arm ware hurled down the rocks. You pass day by day along streets where there are heroines greater than Joan of Arc. Upon that cellar floor tbere are conflicts as fierce as Sedan, and heaven and hell min> gle in tbe fight Lifted in that garret there are tribunals where more fortitude is demanded than was exhibited by Lady Jane Ow nr OiiMn of Scots. Now I ask, if mere natural .courage cun do so much, what may wenq; expect of women who have gazed on the great sacrifice, and who are urged forward by all the Voices of grace that sound from the Bible and all the notes ot victory-that speak from the sky? Many year j ago the Forfarshire steamer starteafrom Hull bound for'Dundee. After the vessel had been out a little' while the winds began to rave and billows rise until a tempest was upon them. The vessel leaked, and the fires went out, and though the sails were hoisted fore and "aft she went speeding toward the breakers. She strusk with her bows foremost on the rock. The vessel parted. Amid the whirlwind and the darkness all were lost but nine. These clung to the wreck on the beach. Sleeping that night in Longstone lighthouse was a girl of gentle spirit and oomely oountenanoe. As the morning dawns I see that girl standing amid the spray and tumult of contending elements looking throuzd k glass upon the wreck and the nine wretched sufferers. She proposes to-her father to ? 1 * --J on* mnrnaa thA wild MA tO i lAKO UUBV OUU |/uv vw* - rescue them. The father says: "It cannot be done 1 Just look at the tumbling Barf."' Bat she persisted, and with nar father bounds into the boat. Though never accustomed to plying the oar. she takes one ani tier father the other. Steady now I Pull sway I Pull away I The sea tossed up the boat as though it were a bubble, bus ami i the foam and the wrath of the sea the wrec* was reached, the exhausted people picked up and saved. Humane societies tendered their thanks. Wealth poured into the lap of the poor girl. Visitors from aII lands came to look on ner sweet face, and when soon after she * - ?j launched lortu on a oar* aes, ouu vcbui was the oarsman, dukes and duchesses and mighty men sat down In tears in Alnwick castle to think they never again might see the face of Grace Darling. No such deeds of daring will Drobably be ssked of you, but hear you not the howl of that awful storm oi trouble and lin that bath tossed ten thousand shivered hulks into the breakers? Know you not that the whole earth is strewn with the shipwrecked?that there are wounds to be healed and broken hearts to be bound and drowning souls to be rescued? Some have gone down, and you come too late, but otners are dialing to the wreck, are shivering with the cold, are strangling in the wave, are crying to you for deliverance. Will you not, oar in hand, put out to-day from the ligbthous.'? When the last ship's timoer shall have been rent, and the last Longstone beacon shall have been*thuurlered down in the hurricane, and the last tempest shall have folded its wings, and the sea itself shall have bean licked up by the tongue of all consuming fire, the crowns of eternal reward shall be kindling into brighter glory on the brow of the faithful. An1 Cinst, Dointing to the inebriate that you reformed, and the dying sinner ?u<Sn jut Liugct w srsj, ssd thi outcast whom you pointed to God for shelter, will say: "You did it to them I You did it to Me<" A OK?(r> t.hn arwnn nf th? tflxt imoresses HD on up the strength of maternal attachment. Not many men would have bad courage or endurance for the awful mission of Rizpah. To dare the rage of wild beasts. and sit from May to Octsber unsheltered, and to watch the corpses of unsheltered children, was a work that nothing but the maternal heart could have accomplished. It needed more strength than to stand before opened batteries or to walk in calmness the deck of a foundering steamer. There is no emotion so completely unselfish as maternal affection. Conjugal love expects the return of many kindnesses and attentions. Filial love expects paternal care or is helped bv the memory of past watchfulness. But the strength of a mother's love is entirely independent of the pa?t and the future, and is, of all emotions, th9 purest. The child has done nothing in the past to earn kindnes?, and in the future it mav grow uo to maltreat its parent, but still from the mother's heart there goes forth inconsumable affection. A hns? nAnnot offend It? neglect cannot chill it; time cannot; efface it; death cannot destroy it. For harsh words it has gentle chiding; tor the blow it his beneScent ministry; for neglect it has increasing watchfulness. It weeps at the prison door over the incarcerated prodigal, and pleads for pari on at the governor's feet, and is forced away by compassionate friends from witnessing the struggles of the gallows. Other lights go out, but this burns on without extinguishment, as in a gloom-;truc!c nisht you may ' see a single iter, om of God's picket?, with gleamingWooet of light guarding the oat. P^SeMfcrchlSe?of Spadara, when the earthquake at Mewtn* occurreJ, was carried out insensible from the falling hooMs. On coming to her semes she found that her infant had not been rescued. She went baok and perished In the ruina. HJmtrajioa of te 1 thoauad mothers who in as many different ways bare sacriSced themselves for their children. Oh, despise not a mother's lore! If heretofore you have been negligent of such aj one, and yon have still opportunity for reparation, make haste. If you eoula only! just look in for an horn's Tint to her, you would ronse up in the aged one a whole world of hllssful memories. What if she does sit without talking mochf She watched yon for many months when you knew not how to talk at all. What if she has many ailments to tall aboutf Daring fifteen years yon ran to her with every lit tie scraton aaa oraue, aaa nw uucwnu your little finger as carefully as a surgeon would bind toe wont fracture. You say she it childish now; I wonder if the ever av you when you were childish. You have no patience t* wait with ber on the street, she moves so slowly; I wonder if the remembers the time when you were glad enough to go slowly. Yon complain at the expense of providing for her now; I wonder what your financial inborn* was from one year to tea years of age., Do not begrudge what yon do for the old folks. I care not how much yon did for them; tfaey have done more for yon. Bnt from the weird text of the morning comes the rushing in upon my tool a thought thft overpowers me. This watching by Rizpah was an after death watching. I wonder if now there is an after death-watch-. tug. 1 tunc mere is. a am ? ~1?? who hare passed death and art still watching. They lode down from their supernal, and glorinad state upon us, and ia not that an after death watching? I cannot believe that thoee who befbre tnetr death were interested in as have since their death become indifferent as to what happen* to oa. Not one boor of the sue months during which Rispah watched, seated npon the rocks, was she more alerter diligjntor armed for cs than oar mother, if glorified, is alert and diligent and armed for na. It is not now Rlapah on a rock, bat Biipah on a throne. How Jong has yoar mother been dead? Do von think she has been dead long eoongh to rorget you? My mother has been dead twenty-nine years. I believe she knows more about me now than she did when I Stood In Her presenoe, ana ? ?>u uu Spiritualist either. The Bible says, "Aw they sot all ministering spirits not forth to minister to them that shall ba heirs of salvation." Young man, better look oat what yon do and where you go, for your glorified mother is looking at too. Ton sometime^say to yourself, "What would mother say if she knewthisF' She does know. Ton might cheat her once, bat ycru cannot cheat ner now. Does it embarrass us to think she knows all about us now? If she had to put up with so much when she was here, sntjuy she will not be the less patient or excusatory now. Oh, this tremendous thought of my text ?this after death watchlnjl Wnafcan uplifting consideration, anl what a co nfortlog thought 1 Young mother, yoa ^who bare just lest your babe, and who feel that need of a nearer solace than that which comes from ordinary sympathy, yottr mother knows all about it. You eannot ran 1 in and talk it all orer with her any ou would I " _M.I - mUnt tmt It U BUD wore iwn ? _ will comfort you some, I think?yea, it will comfort you a good deal?to know that she nnderitands it all. You m that the velocities of the heavenly conditions are so great that it woqld not take her a half second to come to your bereft hearb' Oh, these mothers in heavenl Tiiey can dp more for as now than before they went away. The bridge between this world and the next is not broken down. Thev approach the bridge from both ways, departing spirits and coming spirits, disimprisoned spirits and sympathizing spirits. And so let us walk as to be worthy of the siznernal championships, and if to any of ns life on earth is a hard grind, let ns understand that if ws watch faithfully and trust fully onr blessed Lord there will be a corresponding reward , in the land'of peac*, and that Bizpab, wno once wept on a roci, now reigns on a . throne. INTERNAL REVEHtIE. ( Estimates lor Nest Year $103,000, 000?Production ot Oleomargarine. Commissioner of Internal Bevenue M/iaon, in his annual report, estimates that the col' lections of internal revenue next year > will aggregate $165,000,000^ List year he estimated them at $130,000,000, and they yielded $153,800,000. The oost of collection last year waa 2.83 per cent After tiro yean' experience with the $10a-pound tax on smokmsr opium manufactured in the United States, he comes to the conclusion that it is impracticable. Blanks hare been israel in California an 1 Montana, bat no revenue has been oollected. There has been an increase in the number of distilleries operated, principally small <iwiiiai.i?? *nH the relaxation of the Jaw with regard to these has given much trouble and facilitate! frauds. Tha adoption by Congress of his recommendation to dispense with the rezanging of spirits after rectiBcation has effected a saving of 1100,003 per annum. The production of oleomargarine has increased from 3,70),030 pounds a month to over 4,003,00). The chief oleomargarine producing States are , Illinois, which last year paid tax on this prodnct at the rate of r two cents per pound to the amount of 166 V 000; Sanaa?, 1143,000; Connecticut, $106,000; Ohio, $78,000; Nebraska, 143,000, and Pennsylvania, $40,001 The nutnber of licensed sugar growers under the bounty law last year was 498'), of whom 727 made sugar from cane, 4240 from maple trees, and thirteen from beets and sorghum. The licenses issued for maple sugar making next year have increased to 6100. He estimates the amount of bounty that will nave to be paid out next year for sugar of all kinds at $8,400,000. TIDE OF IMMIGRATION 570,668 Immigrants Arrived Daring the Year Ending June SO Last. W. D. Owens. Superintendent of Immigra* tion, says that 579,663 immigrants arrived io this country during the year ending June 39,1892, of whom 2801 came in violation of law and were returned to their homes. Of thu number 1763 wetd contract laborers. Thd vigorous prosecution of the alleged violators of the Contract Labor law and the detection and return of an unusual number of imported contract laborers during the fiscal year have served in a large degree to deter contractors in the United States from further enoria ac evauiug tun law. Sixty thousand Canadians enter the United tttatea every spring and return to their homes in the fall, to spend their earn* ioxs in their country. Mr. Owens thin ts it might be advisable to extend the fifty-c*nt head tax to all immigrants coming over our northern and southern borders, wage3 being here, on an average, forty per cent higher thin in Canada. Immigrants arriving the past year are " '-- Rnt/,H,D 2723? hlaefc. nmueueu luuunm , , smiths, 25 8; carpenters, 5201; larmers, 51,630; mai?av, 3709; miners, 6966; tailors, '9374; laborers, 171,483. Soventy-seven per cent, of all immigrants landing in the United States enter by the Port of New York. Last year 242,668 became residents of New York, 83,414 went to Pennsylvania, 46,01'2 to Illi nois, 39.9S7 to Massachusetts, and 16.036 ta | Wisconsin. The 150,00J remaining were disI thrmiTout tae other States of tho [ Union. I Germany furnished the largest number of immigrants, 119,108; Prussia, 76,417; Italy, 61,631; Ireland, 51,333; .Sweden, 41,^45; Poland, 40,536; Hungary, 35,724, and Austria, RJ,a3i In accordance with Che ilew emigration * =11 nf th? JflWS Ot tuo UUiw? wvamo, ?U w. v? ? ?? grants booked for passaga now take an oath before the magistrate that they are going to join relatives in America. Or the twenty thousand political -* ? rr-ix -J fx -... orawjrs in trie uuiteu ovatvo, uuw many have changed a single vote? ^ One good newspaper is worth a hundred speeches. fl ' i i TBWMH