HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1894-10-18, Page 3AT HEROD'S BANQUET,
saonE, THE DANCER, AND RJR
Sermon on Amusements by Bev. Dr.
/ Talmage, who is X1ONV on Ills -tour
f" around the world.
Rev, Dr. Talmage, who is still absent
on his ravine -the -world tour, has seleeted.
as the subject of to -day's sermon, through
the press: "The (lade Feet," the text
chosen being Matthew xiv, 0: "When
Fferod's birthday was kept, the daughter
of Herodias danced before them, and
pleased Herod."
It is the anniversary of lierod's birth-
day. The palace is lighted. The high-
ways leading thereto are all ablaze with
the pomp of invited guests. Lords, cap-
tains, merthant princes, the mighty men
of the land, are coining to mingle in the
festivities. The table is spread with all
the luxuries that royal purveyors 0E01
gather. The guests, white -robed and an-
- ointed and perfumed, come in and. sit at
the table. Music! The jeets evoke roars
of laughter. Riddles are propounded..
Repartee is indulged. Vests are drank.
The brain is befogged. The wit rolls on
into uproar and. blasphemy. They are
not satisfied. yet. Turn on more light.
Pour out more wine. Music! Sound all
the trampets. Clear the floor for a dance.
- Bring in Salome, the beautiful and ac-
complished princess. The door opens,
and. in bounds the dancer. The lords are
enchanted. Stand back and make room
for the brilliant gyrations. These men
never saw such "poetry of motion."
Their soul whirls in the reel and. bounds
with the bounding feet.• Herod forgets
crown and throne and everything but the
fascinations of Salome. AJ1 the magnifi-
cence of his realm is as nothing now com-
pared with the splendor that whirls on
tiptoe before him. His body sways from
side to side, corresponding with the mo-
tions of the enchantress. His soul is
thrilled with the pulsations of the feet
and bewitChed with the taking postures
and attitudes more and more amazing.
After a while he sits in enchanted silence
looking at the flashing, leaping, bound-
ing beauty, and as the dance doses and
the tinkling cymbals cease to clap and
the thunders of applause that shook the
place begin to abate, the enchanted mon-
arch swears to the princely performer,
"'Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me I will
give it thee, to the half of my kingdom."
Now, there was in prison at that time a
minister of the Gospel by the name of
John the Baptist, and he had been mak-
ing a great deal of trouble by preaching
some very plain and honest sermons He
hei had denounced the sins of the king and
• brought down upon him the wrath of the
females of the royal household. At the
instigation of her mother, Salome takes
advantage of the extravagant promise of
the king and says, "Bring me the head
of John the Baptist on a dinner plate."
Hark to the sound. of feet outside the
door and. the clatter of swords. The exe-
cutioners are returning from their awful
errand. Open the door. They enter. and
they present the platter to Salome. What
is on this platter? A new glass of wine
to continue the uproarious merriment?
No. Something redder and costlier—the
ghastly, bleeding head of John the Bap-
tist, the death glare still in the eye, the
locks dabbled with the gore, the features
still distracted with the last agony This
women, who had whirled so gracefully in
the dance, bends over the awful burden
4ithout a shudder. She gloats over the
blood, and with as much indifference as
a waiting -maid. might take a tray of
empty glassware out of the room after an
entertainment, Salerno carries the dis-
severed head of John the Baptist, while
all the banqueters shout with laughter,
and think it a good joke that in. so easy
and quick a way they have got rid of an
earnest and out -spoken minister of the
G-ospel.
Well. there is no harm in a birthday
festival'. All the kings from Pharaoh's
time hal celebrated such occasions, and
why not Herod? No harm in kindling
the lights. No harm in spreading the
banquet. No harm in arousing music.
But from the riot and wassail that closed
the scene of that day every pure nature
revolts. I am not at this time to discuss
the old question, is dancing right or
wrong? but I am to discuss the queetion,
Does dancing take too much place and
occupy too much time in modern society?
and in my remarks I hope to carry with
me the earnest conviction of all thought-
ful persons, and I believe I will.
You will all admit, whatever you think
of that style of amusement and exercise,
that from many circles it has crowded
out all intelligent conversation. Yoa
will also admit that it has made the con-
dition of those who do not dance, either
because they do not know how, orbecause
they have not the health to endure it, or
because through conscientious scruples
they must decline the exercise, very un-
comfortable. You wilL also admit, all of
you, that it has passed in many eases
from an amusement to a dissipation, and
you are easily able to understand the be-
wilderment of the educated Chinaman,
who, standing in the brilliant circle
where there teas dancing going on four or
five hours, and the guests seemed ex-
hausted, turned to the proprietor of the
house and said, "Why don't you allow
your servants to do this for you?"
You are also willing to admit, whatever
be year idea in regard to the amusement
I am speaking of, and whatever be your
idea of the old-fashioned square danee
and of many of the processional romps in
ea. which I can see no evil, the round dance
is administrative of evil and ought to be
driven out of all respectable circles. I
am by natural temperament and religious
theory opposed to the position taken by
all those who are horrified at playfulness
4, ll questions are decided—questions on the part of the young, and who think
that a
a decency and morals—by the position
of the feet, while on the other hand, I
can see nothing but ruin, temporal aid
eternal, for those who go into the dissi-
pations of social life, dissipations which
have already despoiled thousands of
young meh and young women of all that
is noble in character and useful in life.
Dancing is the gtriceful motion of the
body adjusted by arb to the sounds and
measures or musical instruments or of the
human voice. All nation.; have deemed.
Tho ancients thought that Castor and
Pollux taught the art to the Lea:demon-
ists. Bot whoever started it, all climes
have adopted it. In ancient times they
had the festal dance, the military (lane°,
the mediatoriel deuce, the bacthanalian
dance, the queens and lords swayed to and
fro in the gardens, and the rough baelr-
evnerlsman with this exercise awakened
the echo of the forest, There is some-
thing in the sound of lively mimic to
evoke the movement of the haled and
foot, whether cultured or uneultured.
Passing down the street we unconscious-
ly keep ste.p to the brass band, while the
Christian. en church with his foot beats
time while his soul rises upon some great
harmony, While this is so in civilized
lands, the red mon of the tenet have
their scalp danees, their green corn
dances, their war dances. In ancient
times the exercise was Se elderly and
completeler depraved that the church
anathematized it. The old Christian
fathers expressed themselve most vehem-
ently against it. St. Chrysostom says :
"The feet were not given for dancing but
to wallmodestly, not to leap impudently
like camels." One of the dogmas of the
ancient ehureh reads: "A dance is the
devil's possession, and he that enterebh
into a dance entereth into his possession,
As many paces as a man makes in danc-
ing, so many paws does he make to hell."
Elsewhere the old dogmas declared hi is,
"The woman that singeth in the dance
is the princess of the devileand those that
answer are hor clerks, and the be-
holders are his friends, and the music is
his bellows, and the fiddles are the minis-
ters of the devil. For as when hogs are
strayed, if the hogsherd call one all as-
semble together, .so when the doeil
one woman to sing in the dance, or to
play on some musical instruments, pre-
sently all the dancers gather together."
This indiscriminate and universal denun-
ciation of the exercise came from the fact
that it was utterly and completely de-
praved.
But we are not to discuss the customs
of the olden times, but customs now. We
are not to take the evidence of the ancient
fathers, but ctur own conscience, enlight-
ened by the Word of God., is to be the
standard. Oh, bring no harsh criticism
upon the young. I would not drive out
from their young souls the hilarities of
life. I do not believe that the inhabitants
of ancient Wales, when they stepped. to
the sound of the rustic harp, went down
to ruin. I believe God intended the young,
people to laugh and. romp and play. I do
not believe Godwould have put exuber-
ance in 'the soul and exuberance in the
body if he had not intended they should
in some wise exercise it and demonstrate
it. If a mother joins hands with her
children and cross the floor to the sound
of music, I see no harm. If a group of
friends cross and recross the room to the
sound of a piano well played, I see no
harm. If a company, all of whom are
known to the host and hostess as reput-
able, cross and recross the room to the
sound of musical instruments, I see no
harm. I tried for a long time to see harm
in it. I never shall see any harm in it.
Our men need to be kept young, young
for many years longer than they are kept
young. Never since my boyhood days
have I had more sympathy with the in-
nocent hilarities of life than I have now.
What though we have felt heavy bur-
dens! What though we have had. to en-
dure hard knocks! Is that any reason
why we should stand in the way of those
who, unstrung of life's misfortue, are full
of exhilaration and ,gice? God bless the
young! They will have to wait many a
long year before they hear me say any-
thing that would depress their ardor or
clip their wines or make them 'believe
that life is hard. and cold and repulsive.
It is not. I tell them, judging from my
own experience, that they will be treated
a great deal better than they deserve. We
have no right to grudge the innocent
hilarities to the young.
As we go on in years let us remember
that we had our gleeful times, let us be
able to say, "We lad. our good times, let
others have their good times." Let us
willingly resign our place to those who
are coming after M. 1 will cheerfully
give them everything—my house, my
books, my position in society, my heri-
tage. After twenty, forty, fifty years we
have been drinking out of the cup of this
life, do not let us -begrudge the passing
of it that others may take a drink. But
while all this is so, we, can have no sym-
pathy with sinful indulgence, and I am
going to speak in regard to some of them,
though I should tread on the long train
of some popular vanities.
What are the dissipations of social life
to -day, and what are the dissipations of
the Mil -room? In some cities and in some
places reaching all the , year round, in
other places only in the summer time
and at the watering places. Thera are
dissipations of social life that are cutting
a very wide swath with the sickle of
death, and hundreds and thousands are
going down under these influences, and
my subject in application is as wide as
Christendom. The whirlpool of social
dissipation is drawing down some of the
brightest craft that ever sailed the sea—
thousands and tens of thousands of the
bodies and souls annually consumed in
the conflagration of ribbons.
Social dissipation is the abettor of pride,.
it is the instigator of jealousy, it is the
sacrificial altar of health, it is the defiler
of the soul, it is the avenue of lust and it
is the curse of every town on both sides
of the sea. Social dissipation. It may
be hard to draw the line and say that this
is right on the one side, and that is wrong
on the other side. It is not necessary
that we do that, for God has put a throne
in every man's soul, and I appeal to that
throne to -day. When a does wrong he
knows he does wrong, and when he does
right he knows he does right, and to that
throne which Almighty God lifted in the
heart of every man and woman, I appeal.
As to the physical ruin wrought by the
dissipations of seeial life there Can be no
doubt, What may we expect of people
who work all day and dance all night?
After awhile they will be thrown on so-
ciety nervous, exhausted imbecils. These
people who indulge in the suppers and
the midnight revile and then go home in
the e,old unwrapped of limbs, will after a
while be found to have been written
down in God's eternal records of suicides,
as much suicides as if they had taken
their own life with a pistol, or knife, or
strychnine.
How many people have stepped from
the ball -room into the graveyard? Con-
sumptions and swift neuralgias are elose
on their track. Amid many of tho
glit-
bering scenes of soceal life, diseases stand
right and lelt and balance and chain.
The breath of the sepulchre floats up
through the perfume and the froth of
.Death' e lips bubbles up in the cham-
pagne. I am told that in some of the
cities there are parents who have actu-
ally given tip housekeeping and gone to
bearding that they may give their time
illimitably to eocial dissipations. 1 have
known such cases, I have known family
after family blasted in that way in one
of the other cities where I preached.
Father and mother turning their back
upon all quiet culture and all the ameni-
ties of home, leading forth their entire
family in the wrong direction, Annihi-
lated, worse than annihilated—for there
ate some things worse than annihilation.
I give you the history of more than one
fronily when I say they went on in the
dissipations of sodal life nail the father
dropped, into a lower style of dissipation,
and after a while the son was tossed out
into society a othentity, and after a
while the daughter eloped with a French
daueing-master, and after a while the
mother, getting on further and further
in years, tries to hide the wrinkles but
fails in the attempt, trying all the *tete
of the bellta an old flirt, a poor miserable
butterfly without any wings.
If there is anything on earth beautiful
to me it is an aged woman, her white
leeks flowing bath over the wrinkled
brow—loeks not white with frost as the
poets say, but white with the blossoms of
the tree of life, in her voice the tender-
ness of gracious memories, her face a
benediction. As grandmother passes
throngh the room the grandchildeen pull
at her (hese, and she almost falls in her
weakness; but she has nothing but candy
or cake or a kind word for the little dar-
lings. When she gets out of the wagon
in front of the house the whole family
rush out and cry, "Grandma's come !'
and when she goes away from us never to
ii
return there s a shadow on the table,
and a shadow on the hearth, and a shadow
on the heart. There is no 3/1011) touching
scene on earth than when grandmother
eleeps the last slumber and the little child
is lifted up to the casket to give the last
kiss, and she says, "Good -by, grandma 1"
Oh, there is beauty in old age. God says
so. • "The hoary head is a crown of glory.
Why should people decline to get old?
The best things, the greatest things I
know of are aged. Old mountains, old
seas, old stars, and old eternity. But if
there is anything distressful, it is to see
an old woman ashamed of the feet that
she is old. What with all the artificial
appliances, she is too much for my grav-
ity. I laugh even in church when Isoe
her coming. The worst looking bird on
earth is a peacock when it has lost its
feathers. I would not give one lock of
my old mother's gray hair for fifty thou-
sand such caricatures of humanity. And
if the life of a worldling, if the life of a
disciple given to the world is sad, the
close of such a life is simply a tragedy.
Let me tell you that the dissipations of
social life are despoiling the usefulness of
a vast multitude of people. What do
those people care about the far that
there are whole nations in sorrow and
suffering and agony, when they have for
consideration the more important question
about the size of a glove or the tie of a
cravat? Which one of them ever bound
up the wounds of the hospital? 'Which
one of them do you find in the haunts of
sin distributing tracts? They live on
themselves, and it es very poor pasture.
Sybaris was a great city, and it once
sent out three hundred horsemen in
battle. They had a minstrel who taught
the horses of the army a great trick, and
when the old minstrel played a certain
tune the horses would rear and with
their front feet seein to beat time to the
music. Well. the old minstrel was of-
fended with his country, and he went
over to the enemy, and he said to the
enemy, "You give me the mastership of
the army and I will destroy those horse-
men come from Sybaris." So they gave
the old minstrel the management, and he
taught all the other minstrels a certain
tune. Then when the cavalry troop
came up the old minstrel and all the
other minstrels played a certain tune,
and at the most critical point in the
battle, when the horsemen wanted te
rush to the conflict, the horses reared and
beat time to the music with their fore-
feet, and in disgrace and rout the enemy
fled. Ah I my friends, I have seen it
again and again—the minstrels of pleas-
ure, the minstrels of dissipation. the
minstrels of godless association have de-
feated people in the hardest fight of life.
Frivolity has lost the battle for ten
thousand folks. Oh ! what a belittling
process to the human mind this everlast-
ing question about dress, this discussion
of fashionable infinitesimals, this group
looking askance at the glass, wondering
with an infinity of earnestness how that
geranium leaf does look—this shrivelling
of a man's moral dignity until it is not
observable to the naked eye, this Spanish
inquisition of a tight shoe, this binding
up of an immortal soul in a ruffle, this
pitching off of an immortal nature over
the rocks when God intended it for great
and everlasting uplifting.
You know as well as I do that the dis-
sipations of social life are destroying
thousands and tens of thousands of people,
and it is time that the pulpits lift their
voice against them, for I now prophesy
the eternal misfortune of all those who
enter the rivalry. When did the white,
glistening boards of a dissipated ball-
room ever become the road to heaven?
When was a torch for eternity ever light-
ed at the chandelier of a dissipated scene?
From a table spread after such an excited
and desecrated scene who ever went home
to pray ?
In my parish at Philadelphia there was
a young woman brilliant as a spring
morning. She gave her life to the world.
She would come to religious meetings and
under conviction would for a little while
begin to pray, and then would rash off
again into the discipleship of the world.
She had all the world could offer of bril-
liant social position. One day a flushed
and excited messenger asked me to hasten
to her house, for she was dying. I en-
tered the room. There were the physic-
ians, there was the mother, there lay this
disciple of the world. I asked her some
questions in regard to her soul. I rose
again, and, desiring to get some expres-
sion in regard to her eternal interests, I
said, "Have you any hope?" and thenfor
the first time her lips moved in a whisper
as she said, "No hope !" Then 'she died.
The world, she served it, and the world
helped her not ia the last. And I bell the
hundreds and thousands of young people
who may read this sermon the world well
laugh with you when you laugh, and romp
with you when you romp, but they will not
weep,with you when you die. I wish
from my heart that' could marshal all the
young people in this land to an appre-
ciation of the fact that you have an
earnest work in life, and your amuse-
raents and recreations are only to help
you along in that work. At the time of
a religious awakening a Chrestian young
woman spoke to a man in regard to hut
soul's salvation. He floated out into the
world, After awhile she became worldly
in her Christian profession. The man
said one day, "Well, I am, as safe as she
is. I was a Christian, she said she was a
Christian. She talked with me about my
soul; if she is safe I am safe." Then a
sudden accident took him off *without an
opportunity to litter one word of prayer.
Do you not realize, have you not noticed,
young and old—have you not noticed
that the dissipatioes of social life are
blasting and destroying a vast multitude?
With many life is a masquerade ball, and
as et such entertainmentegentlemen and
ladies put on the garb of kings: and Timone
or mountebanks or downs and at the close
put off the dieguise, sole great many pass
their whale life in a mask, taking off the
meek at death, While the masquerade ball
of life goee on, the'Y trip nieerily over the
floor, gemmed hand is stretched to
gemraed head, and gleaming brow bencle
to glearaing brow, On with the dance 1
Plush and rustle with laughter of im-
measurable merry -making. But after
awhile the leaguer of death conies on the
limbs and blurs the eyesight. Lights
lower. Floor hollow with sepulchral
echo. Music saddened into a wail. Lights
lower. Now the maskers are only seen in
the dira light. Now the flagrance of the
flowers is like the sickenieg odor that
comes from garlands that have lain hi,
the, vaults of eemeteries. Lights lower.
Mists gather in the room, Glasses shake
as though quaked by sullen thunder. Sigh
might in the curtain. Scarf drops from
the shoulder of beauty, a shroud. Lights
lower. Over the slippery boards in dance
ree death glide jealousies, envies, revenges,
last, despair and death. Stench the lamp -
wicks alraost extinguished. Torn gar-
lands will not half cover the ulcerated
feet, °lathing damps. Chilliness. Peet
• Hauds dosed. Voices h ashed.
Eyes shut. Lights out.
Oh, how many of you have floated far
away from God through social dissipa-
tions, and it is time you tinned. For I
remember that there were two vessels on
the sea and in a storm. It was very, very
dark, and th.e two vessels were going
straight for each other, and the captains
knew it not. But after a while the man
on the lookout saw the approaching ship,
and he shouted, "Hard a-larbocird and
from the other vessd the cry went up,
"Hard a -larboard !" and they turned just
enough to glance by, and passed in safety
to tiler harbors. Some of you are in the
storm of temptation, and you are driving
on and coming toward fearful eolheions
unless you change your come, Hard
a-larbord ! Turn ye, turn ye, for "why
will ye die, oh, house of Israel?"
How They Got a Light.
What a prosperous world this would be
if young men would apply their -efts as
industriously to affairs of business as they
do in emergencies where the fair sex is
concerned. 1 This thought was suggested
by the story of a young insuranceman
who went out for a moonlight drive one
evening last week. At his side in. the
conveyance was a handsome young wo-
man. They drove through the western
part of the city, and concluded to go
through the beautiful avenues of West-
ern park. But when they reached the
gate the guard. stopped them with the
command that they must stay out or have
lights in the lamps on their conveyance.
There was no store near, and they were
about to give up the idea of a delightful
drive under the shady trees, when in
utter desperation the young man drew
forth a silk handkerchief, coiled it up and
lit mie end, after putting it in the lamp.
The guard did. not notice the trick, and
they passed through the gate. The
hankerchief quickly burned out, leaving
them in the dark in the nark.
LIFE BECAME A BURDEN
THE WONDERFUL NARRATIVE OP A
PATIENT 1313P14'ERER.
The After Effects of La Grippe Devel-
oped Into Inflammation of the Luxtgs
and Chronic Bronchitis—After Pour
Years of Suffering Health is Almost
Miraculously Restored.
From LeMonde, Montreal.
Mrs Sarah Cloutier'who resides at No.
405 Montcalm street, Montreal, has pass-
ed through an experience which is worthy
of a widespread publication for the bene-
fit it may prove to others. Up to four
years ago Mrs. Cloutier's health had been
good, but at that time she was attacked
by that dread scourge, lagrippe. Every
fall since, nothwithstanding all her care
to avoid it, she has been afflicted with
inflammation of the lungs, which would
bring her to the very verge of death.
This was followed by bronchia for the
rest of the year. Her bronchial tubes
were affected to such an extent that it
was with difficulty she coned breathe, and
a draught of outside air would make her i
cough n the most distressing manner.
"There was," said Mrs. Cloutier to the
reporter, "a constant rattling sound in
my throat, and in the state I was in
death would have been a relief. I could
not attend to my affairs nor to my house,
and had it not been for my niece,' on
wham I relied, I cannot say what would
have become of me. It was in vain that
I tried the numerous remedies given me
by various doctors, and when I
think of all the money they
cost me I cannot but regret I
have ever tried them. I had re -ad fre-
quently of the cures effected by Dr. Wil-
liams' Pink Pills, and I felt that they
must contain the truth, for if they were
unfounded none would dare to give the
names and addresses of the persons said
to be cured in the public manner in
which these are given in the newspapers.
I decided to try Pink Pills, and none but
those who were acquainted with my
former condition can understand the
good I derived from their use, whish I
continued until I felt that I was com-
pletely cured. As a proof that I am
cured I may tell you that on the first
occasion of my going out after my re-
covery I walked for two miles on an up
hill road without feeling the least fatigue
or the least pant for breath, and since
that time I have enjoyed the best of
health. Lest fall I was afraid that the
inflammation of the lungs to which I had
been subject at that period of former
years might return, but I had not the
Idlest symptom of it, and never felt better
in my life. You can imagine the grati-
tude I felt for Dr. Williams' Pink Pills
and I reaommend them to all who will
heed my advice, and I do not think it
possible for me to say too much in favor
of ihie wonderful remedy, the use of
w hich in other eases as well as mine has
proved invaluable.
A depraved or watery condition of the
blood or shattered nerves are the two
fruitful sources of almost every disease
that &fillets humanity, and to all. suffer
-
ere Die Williams' Pink Pills are offered
with a confidence that they are the only
perfeet ancleanfailing blood builder and
nerve restorer and that where given a
fair trial disease and suffering must van-
ish, Pink Pills are sold by all dealers
or will be sent, by meii on receipt of 50
dents a box or $2.50 for six boxe..e,by
addressing the Dr. Willi:ems' Medicine
Co., Brockville, Ont., or Sthneeta,dy, N.
Y. Beware of imitatioes and always
refuse trashy substitutes alleged to be
"jeet aa good."
LA MIMOSA.
The 'Vermin of the north—the utesqui-
toose worse it thonskuid times than any of
trepisal lands—and the other night in -
sits, tattles Inc in this equate and stuffy
room. Would to beeven I had never
erossed under the line of Cancer I After
many months of petit:ace and resolve to
endure end trest in God, I see no reason
why one should continue to exist in this
friglathal region. One, when searee
more than a child., I was foreed to lose a
tooth with stroeg roots. The dentist
caused xis to inhale gas. I remember a
sensation of motion and noise and half -
deadened suffering and it sudden final
stupenduous pain and cessation. I think
of all that as similar to this life of mine
iu a.great elty of the north ;the pain,
the jarring, the terrible noise of the town
all day, through which I have not time
to roe:anther ; tee sudden sharp pang of
recollection at night when 1 lay my head
on the pillow and fall into exhausted
slumber and oblivion. My daily toil is
like the whirling of it wheel; 1 translate
and revise translations it a large pub-
lishing house. My own language, my
inuther tengue, the Castilian., has lately
come ia fashion. Besides ',Allele they
eay I speak and write Prenth with arnaz-
ing perfection. I am guide and accurate
and never seem to be thinking of my
beauty or personal adornments. For
that reason they pay me a reasonable
%they, 1 need never be hungry or
athirst ; never go poorly dressed or lack
for comforts. In a semi -fashionable
neighborhood I ocaupy this square and
stifling room in a most respeetable board-
ing-house. When july comes I may
have a fortnight's vacation to go to the
seaside or the mountains and breathe
fresher air. And there the people will
say of me, "Oh, that is Miss Roden, of
Blaukea. She is very tiresome and clever.
She never smites; don't ask her to join
us !" And so I shall be among them, yet
not of them; no one will take a fancy to
me—unless some eccentric or curious old
maid who wants serae one to talk to. Ay!
And under my quiet, plain, severe gown
there beats a heart more burning and
passionate than any among them. For,
after all; I am not yet twenty-three.
But we of Latin blood look old so soon,
alas!
My mother, the child of English par-
ents, was born under the equator; my
father was a true son of the tropics. And
I, too, am tropical. My mother died
-when I was a girl. My father, fierce,
hot-bloodeel, unwilling to temporize, fell
in a revolution against the oppressor of
his country. That was four years ago.
The oppressor still exercises the power.
When he shall have gone from the land
I will return and claim my father's
estates, too long and cruelly stolen from
him. My cousins will welcome me back
then—but shall I forgive them for tmei-
ing traitors and deserting ray father's
cause?
In the meantime what ara I? A suffer-
ing worm, a grain of dust blown at the
wind's pleasure in this cruel world of the
north; this world that has a flat, pale sky
by day and small, cold stars by night,
and. in the streets of whose great cities
devils walk or ride by day and night.
Devils in human shapes.
:e *
Sometimes I think I would like to stand
face te face with him once more. I
would like to scorn him—to spit upon
him—to spurn him from my patch. I
never remember him except in that brief
flash of anguish that tears away my last
sensation of consciousness when I lay my
head on the pillow at night. By -what
right dared he invade my life? 131onde,
volatile, talented, with a pretense rf af-
fectation and secret desires to appear
blase, if not immoral. And 1—to think.
that I was mad enough to listen and to
dream of love and—yes, to kiss him—not
once, but many, many times in that one
hour! *With all the madness of a wo-
man's first great passion!
The next clay he had forgotten it !
loathe him. I have told him so ; he only
laughed in my face.
I always dread my bedtime hour; it is
the dire moment of life—like the moment
when the executioner comes to take the
man from his cell to die—lived. over and
over each night.
It was he, himself, who said to me,'
"Why, are you too sensitive; you are
the mimosa, are you not! Have you not
seen it in the tropics—in your own
country?" And I answered him but truly
that the hoofs of my horse had only too
often trodden and torn the vine and the
shrub, till all its quivering leaves were
closed, and its pretty pina and yellow
blossoms drooped and could bear no
more! Enriqueta Roldan—la mimosa !
Laughing, he scrawled my name thus on
the sheet of paper that lay nn the table
between us. I was making the Spanish
translation. of his book kr my employers,
and he had some to give me hints. It
was a novel with a heroine named Har-
riet, which is the same as Enriqueta,
and which I tranelated Enriqueta. In his
story the lover of Harriet treated her
most craelly, but she forgave him and so
—died. He saw my scornful smile at her
weakness.
"You think.," he said, "it is not true to
life? You think that Enriqueta should not
forgive hire!"
"I only know what I would or would
not do in such a case," I answered care-
lessly.
"And you—what would you do ?"
he cried, with appearance of intense in-
terest.
"I think I should kill him, " I said,
camly and smiling. "I thinkI would
stab him through the heart or shoot him,
first calling him to defend himself."
"But then you would get put in prison,"
he laughed.
"And what of that?"
He burst out laughing still harder.
But, finally,he grew grave and went away.
If he had known! 1, to talk of killing.
1, who used to brush the green grub
gently from my roses in the great garden
of my tropical horcie. I, who shriale at
even a ilook of pain. I, who weep with
every heart in sorrow. who would fain
gather every tearful child to my bosom
and hush away its grief!
Stupid, thrice accursed the stupid, far-
sighted Anglo-Saxon race, these dull
beings who discern 'well things and
motives too distant to concern them seri-
ously, yet' must have strong lenses to
read the open books of souls like mine,
throbbing so close to them!
After that day he seemed to study me,
to tiote me closely. Then came the night
of all nights of my life for me—never to
be forgotten, never to be forgiven 1 When
he threw himself into my arms and bite
my soul—crying out passionately, "I
love you—I love you!"
Prom that night on he novel' mune to
me again. And I mado no complaint.
Amazed, stupifted, tortured, I suffered in
proud silence. It did not enter enee head
for long weeks that his only though had
been to gain it new expert:nice—a new
passion to be made use of ixi another
novel — another vivisection of a soul !
We met—casually—in the street. He
seemed to rtwait something ; fool that he
was, be awaited my .etteropt to mender
him—to avenge the Injury to my heart.
Fool that I was, not to Ise: ow it! 1 wily
walked, Iny way half dead—but eold and
proed and apparently eittoey forgetful of
tho jelasp of his,arnee, the pressure of his
lxps
Doubtless he had forgotten the mimosa,
in which there is no deadlinese—only a
power to shrink and suffer,
Maria Santissinia ! How lonely one sax
be in suck a great city! How tired one
may grow of living 1 How purposeless
may seem the struggle! I, who Ouly de-
sire to love and be loved --I, whose dear-
est wisk for life would be to devote my-
self to a fond and faithful husband—to
suffer ixi this way To reach out fever-
ish hands for tlae pure and dew -moist roso
of love and only grasp the stinging nettle:
of deceit!
*
It seems as if years had passed since lt
wrote what comes before this. It iney be
an hour or two, A tap came at my door,.
I opened it and stood face to face with
hien. He came irk without invitation,
smiling, bland and with pretense of
'ri°1'.it5h,
".A.busy?" he laughed lightly. "But
is it not warm here? Why do you nut
throw wide the windows?" Ile flung one
higher and sat down. on the sill, sat care-
lessly out iu such a way as one might sit
and easily lose his balance.
"Have care I" I said, sharply, Bat he'
only laughed,
"I have not seen you in so long," he
said. "I thought you might be dead—or
t say the same to you," I an-
swtred 8c10i. I had not given him my
hand. I stood. by the table in the middle
of the room.
"I?" he ethoed. shrugging his should-
ers. "Pas si bete ! No marriage for me 1"
"You can then live without love?" I
asked composedly.
"Oh, no ; I snatch the blossoms as I go
—milling here and there a rarefiower at
the wayside to remember pleasantly for a
day or two --until a fairer attraets ! '
This from him to me ! I made a quick
step forward and toward him. I swear
before high heaven my only thought was
to spit upon him—to call him dog—to
comraand him to leave myroomend
never dare to look at me again. But he
—coward that he was—reastook my pur-
pose. A scared look flashed over his
face. He made a sudden movement to
regain his balance on the windowsill and
only lost it the more. With a choking
cry he fell backward. My heart stoode
still at the sound on the stone flags be—
low.
They have taken him away in the am—
bulance—dying. I shall be held as wit-
ness. I have come upstairs to put away
my papers. I wonder if I shall ever for—
get the look on his face as he fell? He
will cull no more flowers, vivisece no,
more souls. The open window fascinates,:
me. I must not look at it, or I shall ran
and cast myself out and die upon the
very spot. Would it be sin? I am so
tired and bruised. So tired! And yet,
one look from the sill down into the
darkness! Oh, God protect—and save—
save--
-me POWER os, ROAM.
Some Truths That Cannot Too Often.
be Promulgated.
The great hope of a nation is mitten d
in its homes. • They are wonderful in
their forming and their restraining
power, if they are what they should be.
Bat, alas for ns! if we fail to make them
mighty forces to withstand corruption
and drive back the tide of evil. If we
are to have honest men in our halls of
legislation, men to whom principle is
more than party, and. honor more than
the spoils of office, the fathers and moth-
ers have a work to do at home. If we
would stay the tide of intemperance,
these are the best opportunities to work
around our own firesides, among our own
children, for lessons early learned are
longest remembered.
lt is pitiful to think how many chil-
dren grow up in unloving homes, where
harsh words and bitter fault-finding are
the rule, and gentle, kindly tones the
exception. Weary mothers, well mean-
ing, doubtless, but ."maeumbered with
mueh serving," speak many bitter words
at those around them'fathers, absorbed
in business, take little time to amuse and
instruct their children, while merry,
cheerful laughter is too often hushed with
harsh, impatient words—words that may
yield an awful harvest.
If we could. see the great aggregate of
misery and sin directly traceable to un-
happy homes. I think we would let the
unkind word more often remain unsaid.
What if the little feet leave a track upon
the clean floor, and Little hands drop mit-
tens or stemless flowers upon the carpet
sometimes, it scarcely calls for the bitter
words mothers so often use. If the hus-
band forgets an errand at the village
store, he may be as likely to remeraber it
another time if gently reminded as when
harshly reproached with "never remem-
bering anything !" Too many tithes the
first lessons indeceit and falsehood are
learned at the mother's side; fathers, by
their practice, teach their boys to give
scant weight and short measure.
I know a mother who opened her door
to receive some unwelcome visitors one
day, telling them she was so glad to see
them, when her little daughter of five
spoke up in utter astonishment. "Why,
mother, you said you did hope they were
not coming here!" We may think that
if we teach them the deealogue it is
enough, but our children will be very
likely to pay more attention to our prac-
tice than to our precepts; and "if father
or mother does so, we can."
'tr. D." Was Amused.
Here is a story they are telling about
old "P.D." Armour, "r. D." was at the
Midway Winter Pair in San Francisco.
Incog., he stopped to look at the exhibits
from the packing -house. The lady at-
tendants were giving samples of soup to
the crowd.
"It can't be very good, or you wouldn't
begivingit away, " said "P.D."
"We do that for humanity," replied
the young lady.
'eliein,° commented Mr, Armour.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing to
an enlarged lac similie of his own auto-
graph over the booth.
"That's Mr. Armour's signature," re-
plied the young lady.
"Why, I thought old Armour touldn't
write," urged "la D.," in apparent sur-
prise.
"Well, he's got brains,," retorted the
young lady, "If 1 had hie brains I
wouldn't case whether I could write or
not./
sralled and passed, In a few
minutes Rev. Prank Gu* imam, Who helee
Mr, .A.rinteur find good ways to spudhis
money, esAme back to tbe booth end
handed the young lady an envelope with
a$50 bill and "Peals' compliments.