The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 21, 1892, Image 6
? 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