Loading...
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.