The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 07, 1897, Image 2
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CHAPTER VII.
THE DOWNWARD PATH.
John Wharton left the bank like a man
In a dream. As ODe under a macic spell 1
of hypLotic influence obeys the prompt- ,
intrs aod directions of a dominating
spirit, so tne old oanK cier? prot?cuwu
from the private office, his eyes fixed,
hie face Dale aud set, like some penitent <
culprit traversing a cindered via dolorosa.
His task had been meted out to him. <
To study that mobile face, one would <
discern at a glance the vascilating weakness
that was a part of his character.
He was not naturally a bad man, but 1
circumstances bad set his face towards
the downward path, and a shrewd, tyrani- j
cal master was pushing him slowly
farther down the steep incline, until jn
sheer despair the conscience?tormented
wretch ceased to struggle.
Away back in this man's life was a
certain dark chapter. Newly-married, 1
the incumbent of a subordinate governmental
position, a glass of wine had led ]
i him to gamble. Step by step he was <
drawn into a net spread by unscrupulous
acquaintances. In a last frantic
?- 1
endeavor to recount ms jusscs, ue uu?- |
rowed temporarily a small amount from |
trust funds. He lost again. Tbe theft i
.? was discovered. Trivial as was the offense,
light as might this first sin be
made before a charitable court, in his
situation, the frightened Wharton saw
only ruin, the penitentiary. Like the
weak coward he was, be fled, abandoning
friends, home, and family. He sought a
foreign land, tried by honest labor to
earn sufficient to reimburse the govern- i
ment, and send for his wife and children.
He had never written them.
' Shame and lear ol being traced and ar*
rested prevented that. Under an assumed
name he finally returned to ,
America. Time had changed him. He
was accounted dead, iorgouen. iso one
recognized him. He had long since sent to
the government the amount be bad
stolen. He only sought the pardon of bis
wife, penitential rehabilitation with his
x- family, with the idea of beginning life
over again with them in some secluded
village.
Alas! he found no trace. The sad record
of their weary waiting was lost in
the whirl and changes of a great city.
Disgraced, their name tarnished, the?
had bidden themselves afar, where, hf
had never found out.
In his distress, John Wharton took to
drink. One day, accidentally, he was
? 1 : J n r\ fQllrv,.,_o,r>.
mei auu rxukiiucu u? an uiu iciiun-utuployc
in the government service?Arnold
Dacre. The latter was at that
time a clerk in the Ridgefield bank,
fle saw in the disheartened refugee a pliable
tool, in his knowledge of the past a
menace that would wield Wnarton to his
caprices. From the day that the old
clerk entered the employ of Abel Merwyn,
it was to become the ally, the slave,
the hireling of the man who could crush
him at bis will.
A great sob rent the bosom of the miserable
man as he treaded the covered
passage way leading from the rear of
the bank, and emerged on the street. A ,
sudden dizzy spell seemed to overcome
him. as the broad, flaring sunlight dazzled
his eyes.|For a moment he wavered
unsteadily to and fro, and it was witb
difficulty that he collected his benumbed
faculties, aud recalled the mission he
bad been sent to execute.
"I ani to hold, to hide the package,"
he told himself, slowly, painfully, like a
dull child memorizing a difficult lesson, ,
"1 am to go among the men and play a
part?play?a?part."
A ghastly pallor overspread his face ,
as he repeated the words. Some mental J
wrench upsetting the natural faculties
frightened him. A man ev*r terrified by
phantoms, the unreal, uncanny lot ap- j
. portioned him by his hard taskmaster
was too dreadful, in his present unhinged
mental condition to grapple with.
Be had read of men feigning insanity,
;< and ?
John Wharton quickened his footsteps.
Like a scurrying thief evading a cordon
of police, he traversed alleys, lanes, and
unfamiliar by-ways. He reached his
lodgines by a rear staircase, entered his (
plainly-furnished room, tottered to a
chair, and sunk into it.
One hour?two hours. His head bent
on his open hands, he never moved?
thinking, thinking! Three hours! A
Bhambling, limping step sounding on the
stairs, and a thin, disease-worn face
peered in at the door, timidly opened.
"It might'nt be you, Mr. "Wfiarton?"
projected a hesitatinir voice.
The old clerk aroused himself with an
effort, struggled to bis feet, gulped
down a great groan, and turned his hollow
eyes on the intruder.
The latter was a cripple. Partial
paralysis had robbed him of health in
the prime of life. The one being in all
the wide world whom tie could truly
call friend, the single creature in tho
universe who seemed to possess a particle
of genuine affection lor him. Wharton
had picked the poor wretch from the
gutter one dark night a year agone, and
out of sheer sympathy, Tom Cupples, as
he was called, had since been his pensioner.
Faithful as a slave, grateful as a
starving dog, lifted to comfort and
' plenty, the cripple had since taken care
of his room, mended his clothes, blackened
his boots, tried In his half, helpless
way to earn the food he ate.
"fiondnpss!" he ejaculated, as Whar
ton turned h's wan face towards him,
"what has happened? Mr. Wharton,
you are ill! 1 will send for a doctor."
In genuine alarm, the frightened-faced
Cupples started towards the door.
"Stop!" ordered Whorton, in a frenzy
of irritability. "I am not ilL The bank
has failed, and?go to the tavern and
bring me some liquor."
Tom Cupples recoiled as if from an
electric shock. A mute horror came into
his dull eyes.
"Liquor?" he gasped, tottering?"oh!
Mr. Wharton."
Liquor! well might he thrill. It had
been his ruin?from the sparse confidences
of the protector he revered, he
knew what it had also done for him.
"Go, I tell you!" cried the frantic
Wharton, for the first time in his life
employing a harshness toward the crip?
W?io n 4 t n ltl/n
pit; tuiiii jai iru mo sciioiuiTu ihhuiv, uuu
a blow. "I must, I will have it. Fiery
hot?double-distilled, and be quick! I
must relieve this awful tension on soul
and mind, or ga urnd!"
Jobn AVharton drained with a pulp the
cup of liquor tendered him by Cupples'
jtrembllni; hand a few minutes later. Oh,
that was better! A faint glow came into
the clerk's face, the disordered wheels
of his mental machinery seemed oiled to
a smoother operation. It braced him for
the distasteful task that Dacre had set
bins.
Watching him moodily, anxiously, the
<*nnrl? sat. in a remote corner of the
room. He catnc forward a*ihe old clcrii ;
epoke.
"Tom."
"Hero, sir," he quavered, distrustful
of a second demand for liquor.
t _MI am in trouble," went on Wbarton,
/
IWYMSCACTI
I MB
rurviuni..
hurriedly. recklessly; "sore, terrible
trouble, and it's going to kill me."
"Heaven help you! heaven spare you!" '
murmured the cripple lervently.
"Can I trust you?" demanded Whar- ,
ton, almost fiercely, turning upon the j
ather.
"Can you trust me? Oh, master, friend,
wouldn't I die for you!"
John Wharton was acting queorly,
juite out of himself. For a moment he
was lost in somber thought, as though I
jebating with himself. Then he sudJenly
thrust his hand into his bosom.
Thence he drew the package.
"Take it," he uttered sharply, extending
it towards bis companion.
"Take it?" muttoxed the other va?uely.
''Yes."
"What is it?"
"Never mind. You say I can trust
you. Hide it."
"Hide it?" came the parrot-like monotone.
"Where?"
"Where you will, so it is safe. It
haunts me. I can't think. My brain
sftpms reeline. but it must be sale.
Don't tell me where, only hide it. A
thousand angels seem tugging at my
heart-strings to restore it to her, one
gaunt, menacing demon says no, and ]
dare not refuse. Hide it safe, secure.
If anything happens to me?"
"It won't?master! Oh, it surely
won't! You are only half daft over the
trouble at the bank."
"If it does, go to Arnold Dacre and
tell him I entrusted the packaee to you.
Deliver it to him. No, no! I can explain
no more, only obey. I have a task
to perform?a task to perform?a task to
Derform."
Way down the stairs echoed the last
words of the strange mcnotone. Holding
the packet in his hands, the cripple
oniy knew that its owner had fled from
the roorn as if.possessed?that it was entrusted
to him for safe-keeping.
"It must be valuable," he muttered j
with concern," too valuable to hide here
in Ridgefield, or he'd have done it I
known a place?up the river?a safe
place, a sure place." ,
The man "with a mission to perform,"
had meantime gone out upon the public
streets of the town, had mingled with
the mob, had executed that mysterious
task apportioned to him by his tyranical
master.
It was full eventide when he returned.
If bis face had been pallid at noon, it
was ghastly now. His eyes, rollinir,
haunted, seemed to turn and dilate on
ricketty pivots, a continual tremor of j
the bloodless lips told of emotion that j
was fast sapping I'fe and energy with i
119 tutuii^iiy.
"I've done it!" he muttered. "I have
succeeded?oh! the pitiful farce, oh! the
heart-breaklns; effort."
Utterly unnerved, Wharton sank to a j
couch. The grey shadows came through !
the windows, the deeper dusk began i
to penetrate the lovely room.
He tried to rest?in vain. Elis hand
would seek his bead, his eyes would
glare strangely. Once be started up
with a terrified cry, and stared at a
corner of the apartment, as if his fevered
fancy depicted some horrible wraith
hovei intr there.
"The old man," he chattered, "the
poor, honest master who was so kind to
me. Murdered! I can see his gory
locks of silver now, oh, mercy! mercy!
I didn't do it. I didn't do it."
He shrieked forth the words and
pressed his hands over his eyes, as if to
shut out the awiul picture that haunted
him.
"I can't stand it!" he gasped at last,
arising trembling in every limb, and
gliding like a thief to a table.
A bottle he bad brought stood there.
He took up a glass. So unsteady were
bis fingers, that the flask rattled against
the goblet like hailstones on a thin |
pane.
Suddenly bottle and glass went crash- j
Ing to the floor. A violent shock had j
assailed the miserable wretch. The
tension reached its highest bearable I
point.
Something snapped in John Wharton's j
bead?something gave way in the mental j
equilibrium.
A strange cry like the whine of a dog j
when stricken with poison, escaped his j
l'ps.
"It's cornel" he whispered in hollow i
/"I/-*/!! it?Vinco la we T hftvo nnt..
raged, whose com mauds Ihave rejected,
mercy! mercy!" .
Fighting off imaginary hosts of battling
demons, shriekintr, cowering, the
dull hopelessness of the idiot in his eye,
the fury of the maniac in his twitching
face, the convulsion shook the strong
frame as by a cyclone's breath, and then
cast him prone on the floor, quivering,
jabbering, helpless.
"It had come," at last, indeed!?the
silver cord was loosed, the wheel at the
cistern was broken?the mailed menace :
of doom had crushed him, and the worst
had befallen John Wnarton?the haud of
heaven, Retribution!
CHATTEK VIII.
VANISHED.
Slam' the ponderous iron vault door
crashed shut. Click! the massive, polished
bars shot into their sockets, and
the ominous echo fell upon the heart of
Arnold Dacre like a knell.
Heartless, unscrupulous villain that he
was, he had no wish to add murder to
his crimes. The one emotion beside
avarice that swayed him, was his sentiment
for the beautiful Flora Merwyu.
And yet, to reveal now the true state
of affairs, to disclose the captive girl, to
risk her revival and her denouncement,
meant ruin.
Gnawing his tawny mustache nervously,
in a violent tremor, with illy-suppressed
emotion tne cashier roiiowed tne
Sheriff as he led his subordinates to the
counting room.
With supreme satisfaction and relief
Arnold Dacre heard him order one of the
twain to patrol the portals of the bank,
and refuse admittance to any one, while
the other started to disperse the lingering
crowd without.
"They will soon be gone. Then to remove
Flora," he planned, plausibly.
He was struck dumb, however, as the
Sheriff a?ain aooroached him.
"I shall have to trouble yoti to accompany
me, Mr. Dacre." he said respectfully,
but with determination.
"Accompany vou!" repeated Dacre, ;
with a start, "where?"
"To the Judge. A citation has been
issued for boih yourself and Mr. Mor- |
wyn. Poor Merwyn! ho is spared the j
disgrace of appearing as a public criminal."
"You do not mean?" began Dacre.
"That some hot-headed depositor has
sworn out a warrant cuarginK crime,
collusion. Do not look so concerned,
sir," added the Sheriff plainly evidencing
his esteem for the over-rated cashier.
"It is merely a trilling annoyance.
Of course they can't prove anything of
that kind against you."
"I should hope not." murmured Dacre,
but with a sinking heart.
' You will simply have to furnish
bail/' '
"But how can 1? In the present inflamed
condition of the people's mind, a
man's former friends are bis bitterest
foes. Can you not delay this service for
an hour?till to-morrow. I have important
business here at the bank?"
"Sorry," sighed the Sheriff, "but duty
is duty. See ben*, <Mr. Dacre," he continned
hastily, "I have confidence in you.
I ain't afra.^ of a man who risks his
life as yu have done to keep that mob
out of the bank, running away. I'll tell
you what I'll do?I'll go your bond myself."
"Oh! thank you," murmured Dacre.
"It won't take ten minutes. At the
same time you can lodee information as to
the assassin of Mr. Merwvn. Dear! dear!
I never dreamed that quiet, slow-going
Ridgefield would come to murdering its
best friend!"
Nor of the true depths of villainy that
lay beneath the courtly exterior of his
prisoner! That prisoner was strangely
excited as they le't the bank, however.
!? hurried the Sheriff along, he scarcely
heard the taunts or heeded the vicious,
scowling faces of the disappointed depositors
as they passed down the street He
was safe under the protection of the law,
and he bad but one thought?to get back
to the baDk as soon as possible, and release
the Imprisoned Flora.
He calculated the chances in his favor
of speedy release. He grew less uneasy
as he recalled the interior of the vault
It was scarcely up to the massive construction
of metropolitan vaults, having
only a front of iron, the three other sides
being composed of brick. Even this
formed an air-ticht compartment, but its
closeness had led to air shafts being
placed at tbe back, and, while a rather
uncomfortable place on a hot day. he
hai often remained in it for an ho::r or
more arranging papers and the lika
"She cannot die in there." reflected
Dacre. "No outcry can reach the outside
of the bank, but, if I should be detained?"
He was detained. In a frantic fever of
suspense, his own heart seemed devour
inn itself as one hour, two passed by,
and the absence of the Judpe, and tireless
formalities, kept biin in the courtroom.
The cloud deepened on his brow as,
from what tbeJudeesaid.be realized
that a strict investigation of the methods
and finances of the bank would be made.
With Abel Merw^n dead, however, a
scapegoat was afforded for the crooked
work he had so artfully shifted to his
innocent shoulders, tbanKs to the dett
clerical capacity of John Wharton.
As to Wharton. That phrase of the
case had long perplexed Dacre. Scheming
to cover up his defalcations,
bis losses in speculation, he
had induccd the latter to tamper
with the accounts and records in a way
otto/'Vi nri hla?nn t,n hltnsftlf.
Some ugly transactions showed, however.
and closs investigation might embarass
the old clerk. Tbe whispered
consultation with Wharton as he left the
bank with the pocket book, however,
had provided for that?yes, with a confident
smile the arch-plotter decided, that
of all the clever ruses he had designed,
the disposition he intended of the old
clerk, iuvolved a scheme that was flawless
and unique!
Only Flora! that was his one anxious
concern now. He planned boldly. He
would remove her to the house from the
vault, he would tell the nervous, agitated
housekeeper that the death of her father,
the accumulating perplexities at the bank
had temporarily unhinged her reason,
that she must not heed her frantic utterances,
nor allow any one to see her,that
her father with his dying breath had en- |
joined Dacre to remove her to some retired
spot, where the threats of the depositors
and the disgrace of the hour
could not reach her. A close carriage at
night, a drive to the city, and he would
place her in charge of some trusted
emissarv. Then he would unfold to her
the power over her fortune and her father's
good name. If she wedded him,
John Wharton could be sent abroad, and
the blame could be transposed to his
charge.
Thus plotted the mercenary scoundrel. |
Trampling upon human hearts, mercilessly
blastinsr all that was bright in life,
where the steDping stones to his own
selfish desires demanded it. Arnold
Dacre saw riches and love as "his reward,
and never dreamed that, there could be a
dav of reckoning other than somo error
in judgment might precipitate.
lit' liUJTJUU UUW Ji tuu WllLO iiro ,
of legal entanglements, and then by
lonely alleys reached the vicinity of the
bank. The man on guard nodded respectfully
to hi in as ho walked up the
iron steps.
"The Sheriff has kindly allowed me to
complete some work in the countirgroom,"
he explained
The officer admitted him "without
cavil. Dacre hastened to the priva e
office.
The sad, white face of the murdered
banker looked tip at him, he fancied,
with solemn reproach, but he drove
away the feeling of superstitious diead
it inspired. A sudden devertisement
made the realities of the moirent still
more exclusive and encrossing, as, trying
the rear door leading to the banker's
home, he found it locked.
"The Sheriff has blocked exit that
way," muttered Dacre, with darkening
brows. "How shall I get her away.
Ah! what's thi9?"
Tto be continued.]
BASEBALL BY MACHINERY.
Successful Trial of Professor Hinton'?
Pitching Gun.'
Professor Hinton's patent baseball pitching
gun was a decided success when tried
at Princeton, N. J. Eight strike outs, on?
base on balls, one wild pitch and four safe
hits is the record in three innings in the
first fair test of the machine's practicability
in an actual game.
Nines representing the Ivy Club and
Tiger Inn, two of Princeton's social clubs,
played a match game, using the gun to
pitch for both teams, and the contest attracted
a large crowd of interested spectators,
prominent among whom were Mrs.
Cleveland, with a party of friends, and
Prin/.utnn Iir<lff?KSOrn. wllO CaUle to
see with what success Professor Hinton's
invention would meet.
The gun is discharged by the batsman,
who, when ready for the ball to be delivered,
steps upon an electrical intercepting
plate, connected by wires with the trigger
of the cannon. The speed with which the
ball is thrown is regulated by compres-sed
uir, and prong-like projectors from the
cannon's mouth impart a rotary motion to
the sphere when discharged, producing a
curve in any direction, according a,? the
position of the projecting prongs is
changed. There is only one serious defect
in the operation q' the machine that will
prevent its use in games, and that is the
longtime required for reloading.
Threw iuniugs only were played. During
the first inning the batsmen were timid
about standing near the plate, and the l?ig
"out curves" caused them to jump back,
but, as the gun threw strikes in every instance,
they plucked up courage, stood
closer to the plate and succeeded occasionally
in making safe hits. The game was
j uninteresting, except for the novelty of
i v?/~vv nomiTiiprl hv il ma*
j etrcilig L11U JMiruu o MUA vvv-r.w.. ~j ?
oliine. The Ivy Club wou by a score of 7
to 3.
Cyclones and Hall In Spain.
A succession of cyclones and fierce hailfltorms
have destroyed the crqps and vineyards
in the Provinces of Valladolid and
Guadalajara, in Spain. In the district of
New Castle houses have beer. Hooded, hun
areas or cattle arownea, ana a numuer 01
lives lost.
riano trrpann to no.
Boston's street musicians hereafter will
have to use stringed instruments. Piano
ortrans must eo.
r * ' '
DE. TALMAGE'S SERMON.
SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED
DIVINE.
Queen Victoria'* Jubilee VTss Ihe Subject
of the Mlnlriter'n Discourse, and It VTan
Delivered Before the Chautauqua at
Beatrice, Neb.?An Eloquent Tribute.
Text: "What wilt thou, Queen Esther?"
?Esther v., 3.
This question which was asked of a queen
thousands of years ago, all civilized nations
a re this day asking of Quean Victoria.
"What wilt thou have of honor, of reward
or reverence or service, of national and international
acclamation? What wilt thou,
the queen of the nineteenth century?"
The seven miles of procession through tho
streets of London will be a small part o!
the congratulatory procession whose mul titudinous
tramp will encircle the earth.
The celebrative anthems that will sound
up from Westminster Abbey and St. Paul'fi
cathedral in London will be less than th<i
vibration of one harp string as compared
with the doxologies which this hour roll up
from all nations in praise to God for thc>
beautiful lii'e and the glorious reign of fchifi
oldest queen amid many centuries. From
5 o'clock of the morning of 1837, when tho
Archbishop of Canterbury addressed the
embarrassed and weeping and almost affrighted
girl of eighteen years with tho
startling words, "your majesty," until thiii
sixtieth anniversary of her enthronement,
the prayer of all good people on all sides o!!
the seas, whether that prayer be offered by
the 300,000,000 of her subjects or the largei
number of millions who are not her subjects,
whether that prayer be solemnized in
church or rolled from great orchestras or
poured forth by military bands from fortu
and battlements and in front of triumphant:
armies all around the world, has been and
is now, "God save the queen."
Amid the innumerable columns thatbavo
been printed in eulogy of this queen at tho
approaching anniversary?columns which
put together, would be literally miles lonj
?it seems to me that the chief cause of congratulation
to her and of praise of God har.
aot yet been properly emphasized, and it
many cases the chief key note has not been
struck at all. We have been told over anc
over again what has occurred in tho Victorian
era. The mightiest thing she has done
Mb been almost ignored, wnne sne nai
been honored by having her name attached
to individuals and events for whom and foi
which she had no responsibility. We havf
put before us the names of potent ano
irrandly useful men and woman who have
lived during her reign, but I do not suppose
l:hat she at all helped Thomas Carlyle in
twisting his involved and mfghty satires,
or helped Disraeli in issuance of his epigrammatic
wit, or helped Cardinal Newman
in his crossing over from religion
to religion, or helped to inspire the enchanted
sentiments of George Eliot and
Harriet Martineau and Mrs. Browning,
or helped to invent any of George Cruikshank's
healthful cartoons, or helped
George Grey In founding a British South
African empire, or kindled the patriotic
i'ervor with which John Bright stirred the
masses, or had anything to do with the
Invention of the telephone or photograph,
or the building up of the science of bacteriology,
or the directing of the Roentgen
rays which have revolutionized surgery, or
helped in the inventions for facilitating
printing and railroading and ocean voyaging.
Oneis not to be credited or discredited
I for the virtue or the vice, the brilliance or
the stupidity of his or her contemporaries.
While Queen Victoria has been the friend
of all art, all literature, all science, alJ invention,
all reform, her reign will be most
remembered for all time and all elernity as
the reign of Christianity.
Beginning with that scene at 5 o'clock in
the morning in Kensington palace, where
she asked the Archbishop of Canterbury to
pray for her, and they knelt down, imploring
divine guidance until this hour, not
only in the sublime liturgy of her estab;
lished church, but on all occasions, she has
directly or indirectly declared, "I believe in
God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven
and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only begotten
Son." I declare it, fearless of contradiction,
that the mightiest champion of
Christianity to-day is the throne of England.
The queen's book, so much criticised
at the time of its appearance, some saying
it was not skillfully done and some saving
that the private affairs of a household
ought not so to have been exposed, was
nevertheless a book of vast usefulness
from the fact that it showed that
God was acknowledged in all her
life and that "Rock_ of ^.ges"
j -was not an unusual song in Windsor uastie.
Was her son, the Prince of Wales, down
I with an illness that baffled the greatest
J doctors of England? Then she proclaimed
j a day of prayer to Almighty God, and in
answer to the prayerp of the whole civilized
world the Prince got well. Was Sevastopol
to be taken and the thousands of bereaved
homes of soldiers to be comforted, she
called her nation to its knees, and the
I prayer was answered. See her walking
I through the hospitals like an angel of
mercy. Was there ever an explosion of
J fire damp in the mines of Sheffield or
Wales and her telegram was not the first to
arrive with help and Christian sympathy?
Is President Garfield dying at Long Branch
and is not the cable under the sea reaching
to Balmora^Castle kept busy in announcing
the symptoms of the sufferer?
I believe that no throne since the throne
of David and the throne of Hezekiah and
the throne of Esther lias been in such constant
touch with the throne of heaven as
the throne of Victoria. From what I know
I of her habits she reads the Eible more than
she does Shakespeare. She admires the
hymns of Horatio Bonar more than 9he
does Byron's "Corsair." She has not knowingly
admitted into her presence a corrupt
man or dissolute woman. To very distinguished
novelists and very celebrated
Erima donnag she has declined reception
ecause they were immoral. All the coming
centuries of, time cannot revoke the
advantages of having had sixty years of
Christian womanhood enthroned in the
palaces of England. Compare her court
surroundings with what were the court
surroundings in the time of Henry VIII.,
or what were the court surroundings
in the time of Napoleon, in the time of Louis
XVI., in the times of men and women whose
names may not be mentioned in decent society.
Alas! for the revelries, and the worse
than Belshazzar feusts, and the more than
Herodian dances, and the scenes from
which the veil must not be lifted. You
need, however, in order to appreciate the
purity and virtuous splendor of Victoria's
! reign to contrast it somewhat with the
?cneiijuas nuu iuc jmuuvujuuiuujo vi uiwj
of the throne rooms of the past and some
of the thronerooms of the present. I call
the roll of the queens of the earth, not that
I would have them come up or como back,
but that I may make them the background
of a picture In which I can better present
the present septuagenarian,,so soon to be
an octogenarian, now on the throne of England,
her example so thoroughly on the
right side that all the scandal mongers in
all the nations in six decades have not
been able to manufacture an evil suspicion
' ? ?*-Vi nf nAtil/1 ho mn/^o fn
lii rejjuru ku uu men wuiu uv
stick; Maria of Portugal, Isabella and
Eleanor and Joanna of Spain, Catherine of
Russia, Mary of Scotland. Maria Theresa of
Garmany, Marie Antoinette of France and
all the queens of England, as Miss IStricklaad
has put them before us in her charming
twelve volumes, and while some queen
may surpass our modern queen in lea.rning,
and another in attractiveness of feature,
and another in gracefulness of form, and
another in romance of history, Victoria
surpasses them all in nobility and grandeur
and thoroughness of Christian character. I
hail her, the Christian daughter, the Christian
wife, the Christian mother, the Christian
Queen, and let the church of Gcd and
all benign and gracious institutions the
world over cry out, as they come with
music and bannered host, and million
voiced huzza, and the benedictions of
earth and heaven, "What wilt thou.Queen
Esther?"
Another thing I call to your attention in
this illustrious woman's career is that she
is a specimen of high life uncorrupted.
Would she have lived to eelebrato the sixtieth
anniversary of her coronation and the
seventy-eighth anniversary o.' her birthday
had she not been an example of good principles
and good habits? While there have
been bad men and women in exalted station
and humble station who have carried their
vices clear into the seventies and eighties,
and even the nineties of their lifetime, such
persons are very rare. The majority of the
VICIOUS aiem uieir iuirur?, nuu icwci h-ih. ii
the forties, and they are exceedingly scarce
in the fifties. Longevity has not been tho
characteristic of the most of those who
have reached high places in that or this
country. In many cases their wealth
leads them into indulgence, or tbeir
honors make them reckless, or their opportunities
of doing wrong are multl-"
- 3 *?* " on/1 4a
pilbCI 111 tU lilt3 UYOi WUOlliiiUl), uuu .
as true now as when the Bible first pre- j
sented It, "The wicked live not out naif j
their days." Longevity is not a positive
proof of goodness, but it is prima facie evidence
in that direction. A loose life has
killed hundreds of eminent Americans. A
loose life is now killihg hundreds of eminent
Americans and Europeans. The doctors
are very kind and the certificate giveD j
after the distinguished man of dissipation i
is dead, says, "Died of congestion of the !
brain," although it was delirium tremens, I
or "Died of cirrhosis of the liver," al- ]
'though it was a round of libertinism,
or "Died of heart failure," although it
was the vengeance of outraged law that
slew him. Thanks, doctor, for you are
right in saving the feelings of the bereft
household by not being more specific.
Look.all ve who are in high places of earth,
and see one who has been plied by all the 1
temptations which wealth and honor and ;
the secret place of palaces could produce, !
and yet next Tuesday she will ride along in
the presence of 7,000,000 people, if they can
get within sight of her chariot,in the vigorous
old age, no more hurt by the splendors
that have surrounded her for seventy-eight
years than is the plain country woman
come down from her mountain home in an
orcart to attend the Saturday marketing.
But as all of us will be denied attendance
on that sixtieth anniversary coronation I
invite you not to the anniversary of a coronation,
but to a coronation itself?aye, to
two coronations. Brought up as we are. to
love as no other form of government that
which is republican and democratic, we,
living on this side of the sea, cannot so
easily as those living on the other side of
the sea appreciate the two coronations to
which all up and down the Bible you
and I are urgently Invited. Some of you
haira cmnh mnrhiH <Hpr? of rftHffion that
you think of it as going down intc a dark
cellar, or out on a barren common, or as
flagellation, when, so far from a dark cellar,
it is a palace, and Instead of a barren
common it is a garden, atoss with the
brightest fountains that were ever rainbowed,
and Instead of flagellation it is
coronation, but a coronation utterly eclipsing
one whose sixtieth anniversary is now
being celebrated.
It was a great day when, about an eighth
of a mile from the gate of Jerusalem, under
a sky pallid with thickest darkness,
and on a mountain trammeled of earthquake,
and the air on flre with the blasphemies
of a mob, a crown of spikes was
put upon the pallid and agonized brow of
our Jesus. But that particular coronation,
amid tears and blood and groans andshiving
cataclvsms, made your own coronation
possible. Paul was not a man to lose
his equilibrium, but when that old missionary,
with crooked back and inflamed
eyes, got a glimpse of the crown
coming to him, and coming to you, if you
will bv renentance and faith acoept it, he
went Into ecstasies, and his poor eyes
flashed and his crooked back straightened
as he cried to Timothy, "There is laid np
for me a crown of righteousness," and to
the Corinthians, "These athletes run to
'obtain a corruptible, we an incorruptible,'
crown." And to the Thessalonians he
speaks of "the crown of glory," and to the
Philippians he says, "My joy and crown."
The apostle Peter catches the inspiration
and cries out, "Ye shall receive a
crown of glory that fadeth not away,"
and 8t. John joins in the rapture and says,
.I15.I41.I..I J-.tt n r\ A T mill +h00 f) |
X' ajiuiui IU ucolu, auu * ..... ? ?
crown of life," and elsewhere exclaims,
"Hold fast that no man take thy crown."
Crowns, crowns, crowns! You did not expect
in coming here to-day to be invited to
a coronation. You can scarcely believe
your own ears, but in the name of a pardoning
God and a sacrificing Christ and an
omnipotent Holy Spirit and a triumphant
heaven I offer each one a crown for the ask
ing. Crowns, crowns! How to get the
crown? The way Yictoria got her crown, |
on her knees. Although eight duchesses
and marquises, all in .cloth of
silver, carried her train, and the windows
and arches and roof of the abbey
shook with the "Te Deum" of the organ in
full diapason, she had to kneel, she had to
come down. To get the crown of pardon
and eternal life, you will have to kneel, you
will have to come down. Yea. History
says that at her coronation not only the en
tire asssembly wept with profound emotion,
but Victoria was in tears. So you will
have to have your dry eyes moistened with
tears, in your case tears of repentance, tears
of joy, tears of coronation, and you will feel
like crying out with Jeremiah, "Oh, that
my head were waters and mine eyes fountains
of tears."
In all the ages of time no one ever had
such a hard time as Christ while he was
on earth. Brambles for His brow, expectorations
for His cheek, whips for His back,
spears for His side, spikes for His feet,
contumely for His name, and even in our
time how many say He is no Christ at all,
and there are tens of thousands of hands
trying to push Him back and keep Him
down. But, oh, the human and satanic
impoteney! Can a spider stop an albatross?
Can the hole which the toy shovel of a
child digs in the sand at Cape May
swallow the Atlantic? Can the breath ol
a summer fan drive back the Mediterranean
euroclydon? Yes, when all the combined
fnrr.pe nf <mrth and hell can keep Christ
from ascending the throne of universal j
dominion. David the psalmist foresaw
that coronation and cried out in regard to
the Messiah, "Upon Himself shall His
crown flourish." From the cave of black
basalt St. John foresnw it and cried, "On
His head were many crowns." Now do not
miss the beauty of that figure. There is I
no room on any head for more than I
one crown of silver, gold or diamond.
Then what does the book mean when it
says, "On His head were many crowns?"
Well, it means twisted and enwreatbed ;
flowers. To prepare a crown for your child i
and make her the "queen of the May" you I
mioht take the white flowers out of one |
parterre and the crimson flowers out of
another parterre and the blue flowers out
of another parterre and the pink flowers
out of another parterre and gracefully and
skillfully work these four or five crowns
into one crown of beauty. So all the
splendors of earth aud heaven are to be
enwreathed fnto one coronal for our Lord's |
forehead?one blazing glory, one dazzling I
briffhtness, one overpowering perfume, one
down flashing, up rolling, outspreading
magnificence, and so on his head shall be <
manv crowns.
The world's best music will yet be sounded
in His praise, the world's best architecture
built for His worship, the world's best
paintings descriptive of His triumphs, the
world's best sculpture perpetuate tne memory
of His heroes and heroines. Already
the crown woven out of many crowns is being
put upon His brow. His scarred feet
are alroady ascending the throne. A careful
statistician estimates that in 1050 there
I will be 174,000,000 people in the United
States, and by the present ratio 01 uniting
with the church 100,000,000 of
them will he church members. What
think ye of that, ye pessimists inspired by
the'devil? The deadest failure in the universe
is the kingdom of satan. The grandest
throne of all timo and all eternity is the
one that Christ is now mounting. The
most of us will not see the consummation
in this world, but we will gaze on it from
the high heavens. The morning of that
consummation will arrive, and what a stir
in the holy city! All the "towers of gold
will ring its arrival. All the chariots Will
roll into line. The armies of heaven
which John saw seated on white horses
passing in infinite cavalcade. The inhabitants
of Europe, Asia, Africa, North
or,^) Smith am?rinn and of all islands of the
sea, and perhaps of other worlds, will join
in a procession compared with which that
of next Tuesday will not make one battalion.
The conqueror ahead, having on
his vesture and on his thigh written, "King :
of kings and Lord of lords," and when he i
passes through the chief of the twelve up- 1
lifted gates, all nations following, may j
you and I be there to hear the combined
shout of church militant and church
triumphant. Until the choirs standing on
"the sea of glass mingled with fire" shall
Bound the triumph in morejubilant strains,
accompanied by harpers with those trumpets,
the hundred and forty and four thousand
coming into the chorus, I think we
will stick to Isaac Watts' old hymn, which
rnnn ?? TTi i 1 nn,l flomnn
mo ouuu umivraui
sang when they gave up their idolatries for
Christianity, and I would not be surprised
to see some of you old heroes of the cross,
who for a lifetime have been toiling in the
service, beating timo with your right hand
a little tremulous with many years:
* - ? *
Jesus snail reigu wucm cx mo auu
Does his successive journeys run;
His kingdom stretcli from ahore to shore
Till suns shall rise and set no more.
Let every creature rise and bring
Peculiar honors to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And fearth repeat the \oiid amen. i
y-: .. - . . i
, - < T V. - j) * : -vr *'
/
IN THE QUIET HOUES.
PRECNANT THOUCHTS FROM THE
WORLD'S CREATEST AUTHORS.
O! Let JeRUR Lift the Load?Test of True
AVorth -Faith for Guidance?Fretting
Over Small Things-Christ'* Separation?Feet
That Go Up To God.
The camel, at the close of dav,
Kneels down upon the sandy plain
To have its burden lifted off,
And rest to gain.
My soul, thou, too. shouldet to thy knee?
When daylight uraweth to a close,
And let thy Master lilt the load
And grant repose.
Else how couldst thou tomorrow meet
With all tomorrow's work to do.
If thou tby burden all the night
Dost carry through V
The camel kneels at break of day
To have his guide replace his load,
Then riseth up anew to take
The desert road.
80 thou shouldst kneel at morning dawn,
That God may give thee daily care,
Assured that He no load too great
Will make thee bear.
?J. M. L.
The Test of True Worth.
That which I would have every one inquire
respecting every work of art of undetermined
merit submitted to his judgment,
is not whether it be a work of especial
grandeur,importance or power; but whether
it have any virtue or substance as a link in
the chain of truth, whether it have recorded
or interpreted anything before unknown,
whether it have added one single stone to
our heaven-pointing pyramid, cut away one
dark bough, or levelled one rugged hillock
in our path. This, if it be an honest work
of art, it must have done, for no man ever
yet worked honestly without giving some
such help to his race. God appoints to every
one ol His creatures a separate mission.and
if they discbarge it honorably, if they quit
themselves like men and faithfully follow
tie light which is in tbem,withdrawing from
it all cold and quenching influence, there
will assuredly come of it such burning
as, in its appointed mode and
measure, shall shine before men
and be of service constant and holy. Degrees
infinite of lustre there must always be,
but the weakest among us has a gift, however
seemingly trivial, which is peculiar to
him and which, worthily used, will be gift
also to his race forever. "Fool not," says
George Herbert,
For all may have
If they dare choose, a glorious life or grave.
If, on the contrary, there be nothing of this
freshness achieved, if there be neither purpose
nor fidelity in what is done, if it be
an envious or powerless imitation of other
men's labors, if it be a display of mere manual
dexterity or curious manufacture, or if
in any other mode it show itself as having
its origin in vanity?cast it out. It matters
not what powers of mind may have been
concerned or corrupted in it, an nave lost
their savor, it is worse than worthlessperilous?cast
it out.?John Ruskin.
Faith for Gnidance.
Take from the navigator his nautical instruments,
and the stupid booby that settles
on the mast of his ship to refresh its weary
frame can make its way to land, and leave
him to perish at the mercy of the winds and
waves. The sea gull that follows his craft,
to pick up the crumbs of bread that fall from
his table, always keeps its reckoning in
itself?but man can never depend on
himself for guidance. A law or
an instrument is his guide, and
his faith in following them determines
his course, "iea, the stork in the heavens
knoweth her appointed times, the turtle, the
crane, and the swallow observe the time of
their coming, but. my people know not the
judgment of the ,od." The bee. without
compass, square or line, can bo shape bis
cell that the mathematician demonstrates
it loses the least space. Brought overland,a
distance of two thousand miles, over mountains
and deserts, shut out from all communication
with the world around, when,
at intervals, the emigrant stopped to rest
bis teams and wash his clothes, confident of
the capabilities of the little creature, he
opened their habitation and let them go.
Yet, in this strange country to which they
were brought in darkness, they were perfectly
at home; and among the hundreds of
strange substances, eight or ten thousand
of them made several selections in a day,
yet, not in a single instance is one deceived:
and in perfect confidence we eat the fruit of
their labor, involving millions of selections,
with a definite understanding that if one
made a mistake our life would pay the penalty.
Yet we eat without exciting a i ar.
We can trust the instinct of the bee, but we
cannot trust the God who gave it the instinct:
or, perhaps, deny the relation between
cause udu eneci oy uouomjg xiis existence.
Fretting Over Small Things.
The great and serious plans for a lifetime
that belong to the solemnities and the
august occasions of existence, may be
absolutely sacrificed and even joyfully
yielded, because great grace is upon us in
the supreme hour of choice; but the small
daily plannings for work and pleasure are
often held fast tenaciously, and when they
are broken we fret and fume with inward
chafing, if not with outward irritation. As
for taking joyfully the interruptions that
come through front door and back, the hindering
things by way of accidents that put
us out and put us about, so that nothing
can be finished as desired, it does seem as
if human nature could never find that possible.
. . Would it not be a triumph of grace
inaeea 10 ue nuie iu ianu jujiuuj ou^u
"spoiling?" How do we crave our owe way.
even in the smallest affairs ! Life would be
undisciplined indeed, if we always had it.
Here is really a ureat opportunity to
emulate ancient worthies of this present
work-a-day life, and take joyfully
a spoiling that may often be as hard to bear
as loss of goods. The records of matyrdoms.
and of great achievements will not be enlarged
by deeds well worthy of remembrance
but the small, joyful surrenders will be well
pleasing in His sight "who knows and pitiee
all;" and, putting these small sacrifices with
others,
"We shall see life may be
A rosary of little deeds
Done humbly. Lord, as unto Thee."
?Julia H. Johnston, in Interior.
ChriHt'* SeparationH.
Sawdust and steel filings are all mixed up
until the magnet sweeps over the pile; then
the one is taken and the other left. The
sweepings of the United States mint are all
gathered by one broom in one heap, but the
lire separate* the gold from the dust. The
?v.*o vau tnhnr until tliti
YVUCtkt ttUCi IUU luiw 6iu" .?v
harvest. The good flsh and the bad artdragged
in the same net. and the angels
separate them at the feet of God.
The faithful and the unfaithful go about
the streets until the Master returns,and theD
the faithless are cast out. Wise and foolish
virgins sleep alike until the Bridegroom
comes, and then the separation. The two
robbers were in a commori prison, till Christ
separated them on Calvary, and led one
away to paradise,and lefttheothortoplunge
in deeper depths from the top of the cross
where he had rejected Christ. "When He
comes," the very thing you think is going
to save all. will divide the just from the unjust.
will devote a part to life, a part to
destruct'on, on the simple test of personal
love to Jesus Christ.?O. F. GlffQrd.
The feet that go up to God into the mountain.
at the end, are the same that first put
off their shoes beside the burning bush.
This is why the Christian, more than other
men, not merely dares but loves to look
back and remember.?Phillips Brooks.
For Better Protection of the Seals.
A cable dispatch received at the State
Department, Washington, from ex-Secretary
John W. Foster, who has been in St.
Petersburg engaged in negotiations with
the Russian Government for the better protection
by mutual agreement of seal life in
the Northern Pacific and Bering Sea, an
A* nf h i C mic.
Quunces tuu CUUlplULtJ suoucan Vi Mio
sion. Mr. Foster is now on bis wuy back
to the United States.
Boston Street Kailwnys.
The trackage of the street railway line9
directly connected with Boston is almost
1000 miles, operated by a power equal tr
that of 50,000 horses. ?.
1
* BBS
THE SABBATH SCHOO^B
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMEN^^B
. FOR JULY I U wHH
Lenson Text: "Paul and the Phllippian
Taller," Act* xvl., 22-34?Golden Texfa
Acta xvi., 31?Commentary on the !>? * J
son of the Day by Rev. D. M. Steam*
22. "And the multitude rose uptogethei
against them, and the magistrates rent ofl
their clothes and commanded to beat them.
So much for their Interfering with the god
of this world, the prince of the power of th<
air, for, when the devil's property U
touched, he soon begins to roar.. Our Lor4
has taught us that true fellowship witlj
Him will surely bring the same treatment
that He received (John xv., 18-20). Th<
world, the flesh and the devil are all decidedly
against God, and If we are for God
we must be against them at all costs.
23. "And when they had laid many stripei
upon them they cast them into prison,
charging the jailer to keep them safely."
With no gentle hand had thev taken ofl
their clothes, and there would be no lovfl
nor gentleness In this scourging. It meant s
many and heavy stripes upon their bar*
backs. It meant real pain and much of it,
besides the humiliation of belni? treated as
criminals when they were perfectly Innocent.
Paul, afterward speaking of it, says, $
"We were shamefully treated at Philippl^
(I Thess. li., 2).
24. "Who, having received such a charge,
thrust them into the inner prison and made
their feet fast In the stocks." Neither || .
there any tenderness in this man's handling
of them. It is injustice and cruelty through' , out,
the devil and his followers let loose ;
upon the ohildren of God, strange mystery r
of iniquity which has been causing the peo?
pie of God to suffer ever since sin entered
this world, and the end is not yet. If anv
ope oan tell why God permitted the devu
to tempt Eve, we will gladly listen. If not,
we will still believe that God is love, trust
Him for grace to endure meekly all thai
comes and wait for the hereafter, when we
shall know. . v&S
25. "And at midnight Paul and Silai
Draved and sane nraises nnf.n flnH nnH the
prisoners hear5 them." Here, surely, Is
the victory of faith and obedience to the
word, "Rejoice and be exceedingly glad,
for great is your reward in heaven" (Math,
v., 12). The same God who could prevent "
the fire from burning Daniel's friend could
sooth the bleeding backs of Paul and Silas
and fill them and their dungeon with His
glory. They did not praise because of circumstances,
but in spite of circumstances.
Consider that mighty "yet" of Hab. ill.,
17, 18.
26. "And suddenly there was a great '
earthquake, so that the foundations of the
prison were shaken, and immediately all
the doors were opened, and every one's
bonds were loosed." One has said that,
although thev had not influence enough
nor earthly friends enough to keep them out
of prison, there was power enough on theii
side to shake the whole earth, if necessary.
27. "And the keeper of the prison, awaking
out of his ^ ep and seeing the prison
doors open, Ik * drSw out his sword and
would have killed himself, supposing that
the prisoners had been fled." It was something
new in his experience to have prisoners
safe without bonds or bolts and bars.
It was natural for him to suppose that open
doors meant escaped prisoners, and if this
were so it meant death to him, which he
purposed accomplishing by his own hand
rather than that of others.
28. "But Paul cried with a loud voice,
saying, Do thyself no harm, for we are all
here." Here wa9 good for evil surely. The
jailer had not thought probably of easing
their sufferings in the least degree, but
Paul would have no harm come to the
jailer if he could prevent it. This is like
him who prayed, "Father, forgive them, for
they know not what they do." Have we
this spirit of forgiveness and love?
29. "Then he called for a light and sprang
in and came trembling and fell down before
Paul and 8ilas." Hpw God does turn the
tables! See the man in authority bowing
before the apparently helpless prisoners.
He now saw in them representatives of the . t
God who could do such wonders as shake the i
earth and open prison doors. Was it not \
worth while to suffer as they did thus to af- j
ford an opportunity for God to show Him- I
self through them and on their behalf?
Let us accept all events as opportunities
for God to show Himself in and through uff I
30. "And brought them out and said, J|
Sirb, what must I do to be saved?" He '
does not seem to have considered whether
this treatment of prisoners was right or
wrong in the eyes of the law. He only
seems to know that he is a sinful man
having special dealings with a great God , :
whom he is not prepared to meet, and
that he had better consider the matter at
all costs, and that very quickly.
31. "And they said, Believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ ami thou shalt be saved, and
thy house." What a simple message ,and
how definite. He is not told to stop doing
wrong and try to do better; to follow Christ
and do somewhat as He did; to give up his
occupation and go preaching with the /;
apostles. He is not even told to pray or
read the Scriptures, but just to do the on?
only thing that a helpless sinner can do,
and that is to receive as a gift the Lord
Jesus Christ (John i., 12; Rom. iii., 24; vi.t
23; iv.. 5; Titus iii., 5).
32. "And they spake unto him the word
of the Lord and to all that were in his
house." They were the messengers of the
Lord of Hosts, and always ready to deliver
their message, or rather His message.
They would speak of Him who was foreordained
before the foundation of the world,
but had been recently manifested in the
flesh as the Son of God and only Saviour of
sinners.
33. "And he took them the same hour
of the night and washed their stripes, and
was baptized, he and all his straightway.'-*
Halleluiah, what a Saviour! He saves instantly
all who receive him. He saves
them fully and freely bv His own precious
blood without any works of theirs, and
then begins at once to work in them the '
good works which He has before prepared
(Eph. ii., 8, 10). We do not know that the
jailer or any of his household ever heard ,
these tiding before, and yet they believe as
soon at they hear. May God by His Spirit
awaken His people to give all on earth the
privilege of hearing of Him who still receiveth
sinners.
34. "And when he had brought them
into his house he set meat before them,
and rejoiced, believing in God with all his
house." What a happy home, what a glorious
change, and in so short a time! A i
little wbile before they were a household J
out of Christ, and therefore unsaved; but ^
now a household in Christ, and therefore
saved. If the jailer had killed himself and
died in his sin.i, he would have gone out
into eternal torment, but now he has eternal
life. Why are not all believers joyful
and ever ready to pass on the good news of
? CJ?rtii ? or*.I onrtK o calrotlnn??
3UCU U Oa> IUU1 UUU guvu
Lesson Helper.
How much tlie possession of happiness
depends upon the point of view
we choose to take in seeing things! He
who determines to look upon the bright
side of affairs will generally find that
some brightness is visible; he who
wants to point out to himself and others
that discouragements abound can,
as a rule, succeed to his own satisfaction
in the gloomy pursuit There Is
such a thing as curbing one's natural *
tendency to depression and In wholesome
fashion costing lamentable melancholy
out of doors. And one means
to this end is mentally and spiritually
to outgrow the necessity of being hap
rri 1 ?oKAiif tVl/i flon.
J)V. J. Lit? 11* 5>!> U1IC lUlUivo auuuc tuv. v?v.
rivations and lack of those conditions
which are commonly supposed to be
requisites of happiness, and the less one
cultivates a spirit of restless pursuit
of happiness?a spirit which by its very
lightness and delicacy eludes a harsh
grasp?the more likely is happiness toi
come all unsought, particularly if one
is more anxious about securing condi-! /
tions of happiness for others than for j
CLLlf'w iifelf.
Novelty In "Headgear.
Aluminum helmets have not proved
successful in the German army, the
saving in weight being mere than otf
set by the metal's storing beat, even to
blistering the lorebeads of the wearers.