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pruui to f implmife.
J. C. HEARTSELL. Ed. and Pub.
VOL XII.
PA.X, PRESENT, AND FDtDRE.
BY FLORENCE JOSEPHINE BOYCB.
Oar past is a failure beyond recall.
From which v.-e mav gain no plea
Our present is needful of somethii
To lilt up the vacant measure.
But our future is all that's great and high.
Where the sun is forever shining;
And every cloud in our future sky
Is wearing a silver lining.
Waii'sfiuld, Verment.
Tllli OILED HAIRPIN J.
-OR—
The Strange Tragedy of the
Grand Hotel.
BY ARTHUR GRIFFITHS.
CHAPTER VIII—Continued.
It was now dinner-time, the usual
table d'hote gathering which brought all
the guests of the hotel together. I heard
the second gong sound as I still satin the
manager's glass room, which had a large plate-
window looking into the outer
office, and through it into the hall. From
my place here I could see the guestR
filing info the big dining-room, and
my eyes fell npon the Sarsfield party as
they passed.
No, not the Sarsfield party; the expres¬
sion was incorrect. Theie were Miss
Bertram, Captain Fawcett, Mr. Sarsfield;
that was all. Where was Mrs. Sarsfield?
Late? Her friends in that case would
have wailed for her. Unable to appear
at dinner? That was tho more plausible
explanation of her absence.
1 went out aud gained a point in the
hall whence I could command the dining¬
room and the approaches to it. I waited
here patiently for ten minutes or a quar¬
ter of an hour, resolved to establish it
beyond question that Mrs. Sarsfield was
not coming to dinner. Satisfied at length
on this point, I left the rest of the party
busy with their fish, and went up stairs
to the floor occupied by the Sarstields,
meaning to find my way to their private
sitting-room. In corridor
the I ran up against a ser¬
vant with a tray; it was tho man who
waited upon the private rooms, I knew
him slightly and he knew me.
“Not ot the t ible d’hote to-day, Gustaf?”
I said, to try him.
“No, sir; tho lady is dining in her own
room—No. 103—Mrs. Sarsfield.
Here was the chance I sought.
“See, Gustaf” (and I showed ySu the man
half a sovereign), “would like to earn
this? Yes? Take in a message for me to
Mrs. Sarsfield?”
Fear struggled with cupidity in his fat,
phlegmatic “Suppose German Mrs. Sarsfield face.
is angry, sir,
and complains; the manager would dis¬
miss me."
“Never fear; she will probably give you
another card; half-sovereign. it there Stay! tray.” Take this
I produced put on your which
a card, ou I hastily
scribbled a few words;-
"I must see you privately—at onoe. It
is most urgent—a ".matter of life and
deatn.”
“She will see that for herself; only tell
her fa*. I am waiting outside."
The strange message succeeded as I
had hardly dared to hope. I was shown
into where Mrs. Sarsfield sat listlessly
before an untasted meal.
"Really, sir, I must insist," she stam¬
mered out; “this intrusion-”
“Could only be justified by what I have
to tell you,” I quickly explained, “Your
sister is iu very great danger."
“Danger—from “There whom?”
are draw people who misjudge her, I
am sure; wrong conclusions from
her conduct.”
“What conduct?”
“Her visit to No. 99.”
She started violently.
“When? Who says she went there?” 1
“I myself found her at the door. But
that is not what I mean. There are strong
grounds for presuming that she had been
there before —quite early—and this im¬
prudence ” has set people to question her
conduct.
If “Are you referring to Captain Fawcett?
so, it is ail a mistake. I have quite
satisfied him on that point."
“ Satisfied him?”
“Yes,” she continued with feminine
“He garrulity, now that she was once started.
was naturally very much put out,
seriously angry, and would have broken
off everything with thing.” a girl who would
confess to such a
“Who admitted she had gone to—No.
99?"
“Yes; but it was all a mistake. She
never went there-”
Mrs. Sarsfield stopped dead short and
looked at me white and speechless,
aghast, as it seemed, at some unguarded
indiscreet expression.
“Never wont to No. 99—not in the early
morning, I me in? Oh, Mrs. Sarsfield, it
will save her, save all that" of you muoh mis¬
ery, unhappiness, if point can be
clearly proved.”
“But who requires to know? I have
told Captain Fawcett; he no longer
doubts her. Does any one else believe
her capable of such conduct?”
“Yes; the police do.” I said it abruptly,
point-bl they ink. her-?"
“And accuse
“Don't you see what the supposition
implies? It lays Miss Bertram open to a
most awful charge. At present we can
make out for certain that only one person
* visited the between night and the
room
discovery of the corpse, and that person
is “A the one who dropped dropped the in hair-pin-’’ 99?”
hair-pin shrieked was she clutched No.
She almost ai my
arm convulsively, and awaited in breath¬
less anxiety my reply.
“Yes, a hair-pin, identified by the
police as the property of Miss Bertram. ’’
“My God! how awful!” She sunk buck
horror-stricken.
“You see what this means. It would be
most cruel, most unjust to accuse her of
the murder.”
“Clara? That sweet, innocent girl
guilty of such a crime! No, indeed.”
“But she might be taxed with guilty
knowledge. See the construction that
may be put on that early visit—Bhe would
be the first to find the body, yet she never
gave the alarm. Why not? "The fair in¬
ference is that she sought to shield the
perpetrator of the crime.”
“To shield herself rather. To have
given the alarm would have been to ac¬
knowledge hour— her this visit—alone, and at such
in + 3 to man’s room."
m m r - «» - - • — ——- - —
SPRING PLACE, MURRAY COUNTY, GA. MARCH 31, 1892.
'That is closely reasoned. Yon are
right. Still, the reason of the visit re¬
mains unexplained. What took her there?
That is what makes the people suspect
her.”
"Yes, “They do suspect her, then?”
indeed, and are prepared to press
the case to the utmost against her. A
warrant has been issued for Miss Ber¬
tram’s arrest.”
“Arrest! They want to take her up?”
she cried, with anguish that was quite
hysterical. “No, no; that must never be.”
“The danger is imminent, I assure vou.
The warrant is only laid over for a’ day
•r two.”
“It is uot worth the paper on which il
is written,” went on Mrs. Sarsfield, rising
from her seat and walking excitedly up
and down the room. “Poor child! Poor
child! She shall not suffer such griev¬
ous wrong. I cannot be so wicked, so
heartless, as to desert yon now. You
shall not bear the bnrden which is rightly
mine.”
I looked at her, eager and amazed at
these words.
"It was I who wont to No. 99,” she now
said, speaking very fast, evidently in a
state of highly wrought nervous tension.
“I went there very early in the morning
to—to—for reasons I need not give you,
and must have dropped the hair-piu
there-”
“Your sister's?"
“Yes, I had brought it. I will tell you
how it happened. I had reasons for
wishing to speak to him,” she shuddered,
and I know that the pronoun referred to
the murdered man. “ Vou must not seek
to know those reasons, but they wore
paramount and important, aud I rose
early, husband slipping out of our own room—my
was still asleep—aud aoiug into
inv sister’s. The two rooms communi¬
cate, you know.” . .
I did know, but I did not tell her so.
“Clara, too. was asleep, so I took her
dressing-gown. for It was of blue flannel,
I was going out into the open air.”
had Captain Fawcett was right then. He
seen her pass his window in her blue
peignoir.
“I put on the wrap before Clara’s look¬
ing-glass, and seeing my hair was all
untidy 1 twisted it up and fastened it
with ono of her pins.”
“The one, in fact, that was found?"
“No doubt, although I was never con¬
scious that I had dropped it.”
“And your sister knew nothing of all
this?”
“How could she? I tell you she was
asleep. “And ”
no one saw jpou go out on tho
balcony and along it?
“I was not sure, but I fanoiod Captain
Fawcett did. I did not see him, nor did
he speak to me, but his window wa^nide
open as I passed. ”
“Well, you got to No. 99?“
“As far as the window—yea, and there I
looked in. ”
* You saw it, I suppose—the body of the
dead men?"
“It caught my eye directly; my attention
was riveted to it. I turned, and was
about to rush back to my room to shut
out the horror of this awful sight, when I
heard a movement in Captain Fawcett’s
room. I believed he had seen mo pass and
would interrupt my retreat. Anything
rather than that-“
“Even to facing the corpse?"
“Horrible as was the alternative, I pre¬
ferred it, and opening the window of No.
99 I stepped into the room, ran across it
and escaped from the terrible place.”
“And then you returned to yotir own
room?"
“Not exactly." She hesitated.
“You found the door bolted on the in¬
side?”
“Yes; so I went to my sister’s.”
“But that was bolted, , too."
“I knocked gently.” She spoke with
manifest reluctance, but was unable, as I
thought, to escape my question.
“And your sister opened it?” I suggest¬
ed, still “lifting her" ou.
“Yes; she was now awake," she fal¬
tered.
“You will not let them harm Clara,
will you?” she began. “I have been frank
with h you; I hare told you the exact
truth .
“Not quite all the truth, unless I can
persuade you to tell me what took you to
No. 99.”
The terrified look returned intensified
to her white face.
“No, no; you must not ask me; you
have no right to ask me. I dare not,
must not tell you. It would endanger-”
I waited, hoping that some hint might
•scape her unconsciously.
“What am I saying?” she corrected her¬
self, wildly. “Please do not press mo
about this. Loave me, I implore you.
I h tve s rid enough to exonerate Clara
completely, I but I can tell you nothing
more. went—with no evil intentions, I
declare; but beyond that I will not speak."
“ Suppose they put you into the wit¬
ness-box. You know the inquest is only
adjourned? It has still to find its ver¬
dict?”
“They would not got a syllable out of
me, nor would my evidence be worth
muoh if they did."
It slipped out unintentionally, this last
phrase, I felt Bure, from the way she bit
her lip, and this perhaps especially drew
my attention to it. I made no remark at
the time, only noting this sign of inward
dissatisfaction, resolving to cogitate
npon it by and by. There was much food
for thought in what I had heard from Mrs.
Sarsfield, and I was glad enough to leave
her, as she more and more earnestly en¬
treated me to do. So with few words of
apology I went down stairs.
CHAPTER IX.
COBNELIS, THE FLEMING.
I was down to breakfast early next
morning; fast-room so entirely early, that myself. I had the break¬ I took
to As
my seat at a table near a window facing
the sea, I saw that the waiter who came
to take my order was no other than the
man Cornells.
“It is you, is it?” I began sharply. “I
must have a word or two with you in pri¬
vate, Mr. Cornells. ”
“With me, sir? Why for?”
“Did you not tell me you heard Captain
Fawcett quarreling with the murdered
man?”
“Yes, sir, so I did. The gentleman
with the two eyes and small mustachios
twisted up.”
“What time was it?”
“Between 5 and 6, I think; any way,
late in the afternoon.”
“That convicts yon of falsehood. At
that time Captain Fawcett was not in
Bytfeesea, ”
“ TELL THE TRUTH ”
thought “Very strange if I be mistaken. I'
it he for sure.”
“No, you didn’t; and you had better make
a clean breast of it, or I will have vou up
before Mr. Gray.”
“I will tell you, sir; just wait a little.
This afternoon, I meet you on the North¬
west cliif, near the Garchester road.”
nelia Having thus arranged matters with Cor¬
and finished my breakfast, 1 walked
round to the Sessions House and was soon
closeted with Mr. Smart and Hasnip.
Then I told them of Mrs. Snrsfield’s Ull-
guarded remark about the value of her
evidence.
“But who is this husband, Mr. Sars-
field? What could have tempted him to
commit such a foul crime?”
“Fear, possibly, of the murdered man."
“There is nothing to show that they
were in any wav connected."
“Surely the something,” I said; “that is,
if murdered man was really a Span¬
iard."
“I think there is no doubt about that,"
said Smart, “I had a lettorthis morning
from the Spanish Consulate in London,
describirg just such a man, but uot under
the name of Cooch.”
"But that of Xavier de Yriarte, I sup¬
pose?” “Exactly;
the name on the knife.
Describing native him, I say, as u Spanish
seaman, a of Cadiz, who was
looking out for a ship, aud wanted assist¬
ance."
“We have him!" I cried. “Mr. Sarsfield
was a Spanish merchant, doing business
at one time in Cadiz. Inquiries must be
set on foot in Cadiz itself.”
“I was going to suggest it,” said Mr.
Smart. _ “Although I hardly see my way.
Tho borough won t stand tho expense, and
unless her Majesty's j reasurv eomos for¬
ward-”
“It will waste too much time to apply
for funds. I will go to Spain myself, at
my order own expense, reimbursement trusting to the court to
my after the trial.”
I went back to the hotel, where I busied
myself for the noxt few hours in packing
and preparing for my sudden departure.
I left tho hotel about i p. m., and walked
leisurely toward the Northwest cliff. But
no Cornelia appeared.
I heard the distant clock striking five.
Still no waiter.
The quarter struck; the half-hour.
“I will give him a little longer, then
walk back toward the hotel."
This was my determination when it
wanted just a quarter to six, aad in pur¬
suance of it I strolled back to Bythosea,
still abusing thinking him for no evil perhaps of Cornells,'beyond
lose the night obliging me to
It dinner-time express.
was when I regained
tho hotol, and without asking for him I
went aud took my usual place, looking
round the table among the crowd of wait¬
ers for the missing man.
Cornells was not waiting there at all;
that was certain, and this absence at last
roused my suspicious, so much so that
after dinner I inquired for him from the
head waiter.
“Cornelia Janssen, the Fleming? He
has left the hotel,” was the reply.
“When? Surely I saw him hero at
lunchtime—no, he at breakfast time? When
did go?”
“He is not worth the interest you take
in him, sir. Au impudent, useless fel¬
low! Spoke very improperly to Mr.
Gray this afternoon, and when checked
said he should like to leave.”
“Then and there?”
“Then and there. I believe ho went to
London by the next train. ”
The rogue! He had gone off just to
avoid me. I was sure of it. This
quarrel with the manager was a mere pre¬
tense. He only wanted to get out of my
way.
More than ever I was convinced that he
had been bought over by some one;
surely Mr. Sarsfield, unless all conclu¬
sions I asked were for hopelessly bill, astray.
my saying that I must
go to town that evening. They brought
it to me as I sat under the veranda of tho
hotel, and as I settled it, Captain Faw¬
cett came up and stood near me. Mr.
Sarsfield was with him.
“Going, eh?" The remark was sneer¬
ing and sarcastic. “ Scent weak, or got
a new line?”
“I am going up to London on my own
business; it would be as well if you paid
equd marked attention emphasis." to yours,” I replied, with
“Will it prevent your return? We shall
all be so grieved!"
“I promise myself tho ploasuro of re¬
turning ere long. I am deeply interested
in the detection of this crime-”
“A letter, sir," said a waiter at this mo¬
ment to Mr. Sarsfield, who missed the
latter part of my remark.
But Captain Fawcett heard it, and
scowled at me as though he understood its
implications.
I watched Mr. Sarsfield as be turned the
letter over. Then be opened it, glanced
at. the contents, turned suddenly ghastly
white, and fell flat upon the ground.
There was, of course, a great commo¬
tion standing directly. I, with the other people
by, summoned help. Mrs. Sars¬
field ami her sister, who were at no great
distance, rushed out, and Mr. 8'arstield,
who was in a dead faint, was soon the
center of an eager and excited group.
He Fawcett had only stood somewhat apart.
snatched the letter from his faint¬
ing friend’s grasp and read pr
“This is your doing! Cowa: Cur!” he
whispered “How fiercely in my ear.
dare you use such language to
me? You shall answer for it."
“What else is a man who stabs in the
dark with anonymous threats?” And h«
flourished the letter in my face.
“That letter is Mr. Sarefield’s. You
had no right to it, or to read it. I appeal
to you, Miss Bertram," I said, seeing she
was “Give watching us.
me tbe letter. Give it me.” She
ously repealed that the command, and so imperi¬
surrendered Fawcett, looking crestfallen,
it.
I hastened to assure Miss Bertram.
“I had no hand in this; believe me.”
“I do. I would far Booner trust you
than him. This letter is sacred—what¬
ever it contains. If it is my brother-in-
law’s, no one else ought to have it, and
no gentleman”—-he paused, looking hard
at Fawcett—“would have read it.”
Yes; but what did it contain? Here
was fresh food for thought occupying me
constantly night, and on my wav to London that
next day as I sped on through
Paris southward to Spain.
[SO BE CONTINUED,]
REV. DP,. TALMAGE.
TIIK BROOKLYN DIVINE’S SUN.
DAY SERMON.
Subject: “Divinity An the Stars.*
Text: “Seek Him that maketh the Seven
Mars ami Orion .-' 1 —Amos v., S.
A coimn-v farmer wrote ibis text—Amos
°. r lekoa ' Ho plowed the earth and thrashed
itio gram by a new thrashing machine just
invented, as formerly the cattle trod out the
pram. He gathered the fruit of the syca¬
more tree and scarified it with an iroucorab
;,ust before it was getting ripe, as it was
necessary and customary m that way to taka
irom if the bitterness. He was the son of a
stammering poor shepherd and stuttered, but before the
rustic the Philistines and Syr-
jans ami Phoenicians and Moabites and Am-
monites and Edomites and Israelites trem¬
bled.
Moses was a law giver, Daniel was a
prince, Isamu a courtier aud David a king;
but Amos, the author of my text, was a
peasant, his and. as might be supposed, nearly
an parallelisms are pastoral, his proph¬
ecy lull of the odor of new mown hay, and
the rattle of locusts, and the rumble of carts
with sheaves, and the roar of wild beasts
devouring the flock while the shepherd came
cut in their defense. He watched the herds
by day, and by night inhabited a booth
nmtle out of bushes, so that through these he
could see the stars all night long, and was
more familiar with them than we who have
tight roofs to our houses and hardly ever see
the stars, except among the tall brick
chimneys of of the great, towns. But at sea¬
sons the years when the herds were in
special danger, he would stay out in the open
field all through the darkness, his only
shelter the curtain of the night heaven, with
the stellar embroideries and silver tassels of
lunar light.
W hat it life of solitude, all alone with his
herds! Poor Amos! Aud at 12 o’clock at night
hark to the wolf’s bark, and the lion’s roar,
and the bear’s growl, and the owl’s te-whit-
te-vvho, and the serpent’s hiss, as he unwit¬
tingly steps too near while moving through
the thickets! So A mos, like other herdsmen,
got the habit of studying the map of the
heavens, because it was so much of the time
spread out before him. lie noticed soma
stars associated advancing their dawn and others receding. lie
and settiug with cer¬
tain seasons of the year. II had a poetio
nature, and he read night by night, aud
month by month, and year by year, the
poem of the constellations, divinely
rhythmic. But two rosettes ot stars espe¬
cially attracted his attention while seated on
the ground or lying on his back under the
open scroll of the midnight heavens—the
Pleiades, or Seven Stars, and Orion. The
former group this rustic prophet associated
with the spring, as it rises about the first of
May. Tae latter he associated with the
whiter, aa it comes to the meridian in Janu¬
ary. The Pleiades, or Seven Stars, con¬
nected with all sweetness aud joy; Oriou,
the herald of the tempest. The ancients
were the more apt to study the physiognomy
and juxtaposition of the heavenly bodies,
because they thought they had a special in¬
fluence upon the earth, and perhaps thev
lifts were and right. If the moon every few hours
lets down the tides of the Atlantia
ocean, and the electric storms of the snn, by
all scientific admission, affect the earth, why
not the stars have proportionate effect?
And there are some things which make me
think that it may not have been all super¬
stition whieh connected the movements aud
appearance of the heavenly bodies with
great moral events on earth. Did not a me¬
teor run on evangelistic errand on the first
Christmas night and designate the rough
cradle of our Lord? Did not the stars in
their courses fight against Siseca? Was it
merely Jerusalem coincidental that before tho destruc¬
tion of the moon was eclipsed for
twelve consecutive nights? Did it merely
happen so that a new star appeared in con¬
stellation Cassiopeia, and then disappeared
just before King Charles IX of France, who
was responsible died? Wasftwithout for the Wt. Bartholomew
massacre, that in the days of the Roman significance
emperor J us-
tinian war and famine were preceded by the
dimness of the sun, which for nearly a year
gave no more right, than the moon, although
there were no clouds to obscure it?
thing ■Astrology, after brilliant all, may have been some-
more than a heathenism. No
wonder that Arnos of the text, having heard
these two anthems of the stars, put down
the stout rough staff of the herdsman and
took into his brown hand and cut aud
knotted fingers the pen of a prophet and
advised the recreant people of his time to
return to God, saying, “Seek Him that
maketh the the Seven Stars and Orion.”
This command, which Amo3 gave 785 years
B. G, is just »ss appropriate for us, 1892
A - D -
in the first „ A place, , Amos .
saw, as we must
see, that the God who made the Pleiades
and Orion must be the God of order, it
was not so much a star here and a star
there that impressed the inspired herdsman,
but seven in one group and seven iu the
other group. He saw that night after night
and season after season and decade after de-
cade they had kept stop of light, each one iu
its own place, and sisterhood never clashing
and never contesting precedence. From the
time Hesiod called the Pleiades the “seven
daughters iEneid of Atlas,” and Virgil wrote in his
of “Stormy Orion” until now, they
have observed the order established for their
eoming and going; order writen not in man-
useriptthat may be pigeonholed, but with
the hand of tho Almighty on the dome of tho
sky, so that ail nations may read it. Order.
Persistent order. Sublime order. Omnipo¬
tent order.
What a sedative to you aud me, to whom
communities and nations sometimes seem
going pellmell, and world ruled by some
fiend at haphazard aud iti all directions
maladministration ! The God who keeps
seven worlds in right circuit for six thous¬
and years can certainly keep all the affairs
of individuals and nations and continents iu
adjustment. We had uot better fret much,
right. lor the peasant’s If God argument of the of the text was
can take care seven
worlds of the Pleiades and the four chief
worlds of Orion, He can probably take care
of the one world we inhabit.
So I feel very much as my father felt one
day' when we were going to the country mill
to get a grist ground, and I. a boy of seven
years, sat in the back part ol’ the wagon, and
our yoke of oxen ran away with us and along
a labyrinthine road through the woods, so
that I thought every moment we should be
dashed to pieces, and 1 made a terrible out¬
cry of fright, and my fattier turned to me
with a face perfectly calm, and said: “De
Witt, what are you crying about? x guess
we can ride as fast as the oxen can run.”
And,my hearers, why should we.be affrighted
and lose our equilibrium in the switt move¬
ment of worldly it events, especially unbroken when we
are assured that is not a yoke of
steers that are drawing us on, but that or¬
der and wise government are in the yoke?
In your occupation, your mission, then your
sphere, God; do and the if best all things you can and all mixed trust
to are aud
disquieting, and your brain is hot and your
heart sick, get some one to go out with you
into the starlight and point oat to you the
Pleiades, or, better than that, get into some
observatory, and through with the telescope see
further than Amos the naked eye could
$1.00 a Year in Advance.
—namely, that two hundred stars in the Pleiades,
and in what is called the sword of Orion
there is a nebula commuted to be two trillion,
two hundred thousand billions times larger
than the sun. Oh, bent peace with the God
who made all that and controls all that—the
wheel of the constellations turning in the
wheel ..! galaxies for thousands of years
without the breaking of a cog or the slipping
of a band or the snap of an axle. For your
placidity and comfort through the Lord
J esus Christ t charge you, “Seek Him that
maketh the Seven Stars and Orion.”
God Again, Amos saw, as we must see, that the
who made these two groups of the text
was the God of light. Amos saw that God
was not satisfied with making one star or
three stars, but He makes seven; and having
finished that group of worlds makes another
group—groun after group. To the Pleiades
He adds Orion. It seems that God likes light
so well that He keeps making it. Onlvone
being in the universe knows the statistics of
solar, lunar, stellar, meteoric creations, and
that is the Creator Himself. And thev have
all been lovinglv christened, each one a, name
ns distinct as the names of your children.
“He telleth the number of the stars; He
calleth them all by their names.” The
seven Pleiades had names given to them, and
they Sterooe, are Alcyone, Merona, Celaeno, Eleetra,
Tavgete and Maia.
But think of the billions anil trillions of
daughters of starry light that God calls by
brow name as they sweep by Him with beaming
and lustrous robe! So fond is God of
light—natural light, moral light, spiritual
light. Again and again is light harnessed
for symbolization — Christ, the bright
morning star; evangelization,the day-break;
the redemption of nations. Sun of
Kighteousnes rising with healing in His
wings. O men and women, with so manv
sorrows and sins and perplexities, if you
want light of comfort, light of pardon, light
oi goodness, in earnest prayer through
Stars Christ, “Seek Him that maketh the Seven
and Orion.”
A K a >0, Amos saw. as we must see, that
the God who made these two archipelagoes
ot stars must be an unchanging God. There
had been no change in the stellar appear¬
ance in this herdsman’s lifetime, and his
father, a shepherd, reported to him that
e !i e had been no change in his lifetime.
And a these two clusters hang over the celes¬
tial arbor now just as they were the first
night that thev shone on the Kdenic bowers*
the same as when the Egyptians built the
them; pyramids, from the top of which to watch
the same as when the Chaldeans cal¬
culated the eclipses; the same ns when
Ehhu, according to the hook of Job, wont
out to study the aurora borealis; the same
under Ptolemaic system and Coperuican sys¬
tem; the same from Calisthenes to Pythag¬
oras, and from Pythagoras to Herschel.
Surely, a changeless God must have fash¬
ioned the Pleiades aud Orion! Oh. what an
anodyne amid the ups and downs of life, and
the flux and reflux of the tides of prosperity,
to know that we have a changeless God, tire
jamo Xerxes “yesterday, to-day and forever!”
garlanded and knighted the steers¬
man ot his tout in the morning and hanged
aim in the evening of the same day. The
world sits in its chariot and drives tandem,
and the horse ahead is Huzza and the horse
behind is .anathema. Lord Cobham, in
thirty-five King James’s time, was applauded, and bad
tliousaud dollars a year, but was
afterward execrated and lived on scraps
stolen from the royal kitchen. Alexander
the Great after death remained unburied for
thirty days, because no one would do the
honor of shoveling him under. The Duke of
Wellington refused to have his iron fence
mended because it had been broken by an
infuriated populace in some hour of political
excitement, might and he left it in ruins that men
learn what a fickle thing is human
favor. “But the mercy of the Lord is from
everlasting Him, His to everlasting to them that fear
aud righteousness unto the chil¬
dren’s children of such as keep His covenant,
and to those who remember His command¬
ments to do them.” This moment “Seek
Him that maketh the Seven Stars and
Orion.”
Again, u Amos saw, as we must see, that
°d w ho made these two beacons of the
°r iental . night sky must bo a God of loveand
kindly warning. The Pleiades rising in
midsky said to all the herdsmen and sham
herds and husbandmen, “Come out and en-
gardens joy the mild weather and cultivate vour
and fields.” Orion, ooraiugiuwin-
ter, warned them to prepare for tempest
All navigation was regulated by these two
constellations. The ono said to shipmaster
and crew “Hoist sail for the sea and gather
merchandise from other lands.” But Orion
was the storm signal, and said “Reef sail
make things snug or put Into harbor for the
hurricanes are getting their win»s out ” As
the Pleiades were the sweet evangels of the
spring, Orion was the warning prophet of
ine winter.
Oh, now I get the best view of God I ever
kail! There are two kinds of sermons I
never want to preach—the one that presents
God so kind, so indulgent, so lenient so inl¬
becile that men may do what they will
against Him and fracture His every law and
put the pry of their impertinence and re¬
bellion under His throne, and while they are
spitting heart. He iu His face and stabbing at His
takes them up in His arms and
kisses their infuriated brow and cheek say-
ing, Tho -‘Of such is the kingdom of heaven”’
other kind of sermon I never want to
fire preach is the one that represents God as all
and torture and thundercloud, and with
red hot pitchfork tossing the human race
into paroxysms of infinite agony. Theser-
won that I am now preaching believes iu a
God of loving, kindly warning, tho God of
spring Orion. and winter, the God of Pleiades and
Y ou must remember that the winter is just
as important as the spring. Let one winter
pass without frost to kill vegetation and ice
to bind the rivers and snow to enrich our
fields, and then you will have to enlarge
your hospitals Christmas and your cametaries. “A
green makes a fat graveyard ”
was the old proverb. Storms to purify the
air. Thermometer at ten degrees above zero
to tone up the system. December and Jan¬
uary just as important as May and June. 1
tell you we need the storms of life just as
much as we do the sunsbiue. There are more
men ruined by prosperity than by adversity.
If we had our own way in life before this we
would have been impersonations of selfish¬
ness and worldiiuess and disgusting sin, and
puffed J up until we would have been like
ulius Caesar, who was made by sycophants
to believe that he was divine, and that the
freckles on his face were as stars of the firm¬
ament.
One of the swiftest transatlantic voyages
made last summer by our swiftest steamer
was because she had a stormy wind abaft
chasing But to those her from going New in the York ooposite to Liverpool! direction
the storm was a buffeting and a hindrance.
It is a bad thing to have a storm ahead,
pushing and us back; but if we be God’s children
life will aiming only toward heaven the storms of
chase us the sooner into the
harbor. I am so glad to believe that the
monsoons and typhoons and mistrals and
siroccos of the land aud sea are not un¬
chained maniacs let loose upon the earth,
but are under divine supervision! I am so
glad that the God of the Seven Stars is also
the Gold of Orion! It was out of Dante’s
suffering media,” came the sublime “Divina Corn-
aad out of John Milton’s blindness
same “Paradise Lost,” and out of miserable
infidel attack came the “Bridgewater
Treatise” iaftiyorettf fihrirti«uE& aud out
NO. 4.
of David’s exile came the songs of consola¬
tion, and out of the sufferings of Christ
come the possibility of the world’s redemp¬
tion, and out of your bareavemeut, your
persecution, your poverties, your misfor¬
tunes may yet come an eternal heaven.
Oh, what a mercy it is that in the text and
all up and down the Bible God induces us to
look out toward other worlds! Bible astron¬
omy Psalms, in in Genesis, in Joshua, in Job, in the
ths prophets, major and minor,
in St. John’s Apocalypse, practically saying:
‘'World’s! worlds! worlds! Get ready for
them!” We have a nice little world here
that we stick to, as though losing that we
lose all. We are afraid of falling off this
little raft of a world. We are afraid that
some meteoric iconoclast will some night
smash it, and we want everything to revolve
arouud it, and are disappointed when we
find that it revolves around the sun instead
of the sun revolving around it. What a
fuss we make about this littleJiit of a world,
its existence only a short time between two
spasms, the paroxysm by which it was hurled
from cuaos into order, and the paroxysm of
its demolition.
And 1 am glad that so many texts call o I
to look off to other worlds, many of them
larger •‘Look and there,” grander Job, and more resplendent.
says “at Mazaroth and
Areturus andhis sous !” “Look there,” sayi
St. John, “at the moon under Christ’s feet!”
“Look there,” says Joshua, “at the sun
standing Moses, still above Gibeon!” “Look there,”
says “at the sparkliug firma¬
ment!” “Look there,” says Amos,
the herdsman, “at the Seven Stars
aud Orionl” Don’t let us be so sad
shout those who shove off from this world
under Christlv pilotage. Don’t let us be so
agitated about our going off this little barge
or slooo or canal boat of a world to get on
some Great Eastern of the heavens. Don’t
let us persist in wanting to stav in this barn,
this shed, this out-house of a world when all
the King’s palaces already occupied wide by many
of our best friends are swinging open
their gates to let us in.
When I read, “In My Father’s house are
many mansions,” I do not know but that
each world is a room, and as many rooms as,
there are worlds, stellar stairs, stellar gal¬
leries, stellar hallways, How stellar departed windows, friends,
stellar domes. our
must pity us, shut up in these crampect
apartments, tired if we walk fifteen miles,
when they some morning, by one stroke off
wing, can make circuit of the whole stellar,
system and be back in time for matins!!
Perhaps yonder twinkling constellation ofi iaj
the residence of the martyrs; that group
twelve luminaries is the celestial home of,
the apostles. Perhaps that steep of light is
the dwelling place of angels cherubic, sera-
phie, arebangelie. A mansion with as many
rooms as worlds, atid all their windows illu¬
minated for festivity.
lates Oh, how this widens and lifts and stimu¬
our expectations! How little it makesj
the present and lioiv stupendous it makes)
the future! How it consoles us about our:
pious dead, who, instead of being boxed up.
and under the ground, have the range of as
many rooms as there are worlds, and wel¬
come house, everywhere, in which for it is tho Father's
there are many mansions!
Oh, Lord God of the Seven Stars and Orion,
how can I endure the transport, the ecstasy
of such a vision I I must obey my text and
seek Him. I will seek Him. I seek Him now.
for I cal! to mind that it is not the material’
universe that is most valuable, but the spir-'
itual, and that each of us has a soul worth
more than all the worlds whieh the inspired
herdsman saw from his booth on the hills
of Tekoa.
I had studied it before, but the Cathedral,
of Cologne, Germany, never impressed m»
it did the last time I it. " It ad¬
as saw is
mitted the grandest gothic structure in the
world, its foundation laid in t‘24S,only eight
or nine years ago completed. More than six
hundred years in building. Ail Europe
taxed for its construction. Its chapel of the
Magi with precious stone? enough to pur¬
chase a kingdom. Its chapel of St. Agnes
with master-pieces of painting. Its spire
springing heavens. five Its hundred and eleven feet into
the stained glass the chorus of
all rich colors. Statues encircling the pillars
and encircling all. Statues above statues.un¬
til sculpture can do no more, but faints and
falls back against carved stalls and down on
pavements over which the kings and queens
of the earth have walked to confession. Nave
and aisles and transept and portals combin¬
ing the splendors of sunrise. Interlaced,
interfoliated, I outside intorcolumned looking grandeur. As
stood at the double range
of flying buttresses aud the forest of pinna¬
cles, higher and higher and higher, until I
almost reeled from dizziness, 1 exclaimed:
“Great doxology in stone 1 Frozen prayer of
many nations!”
But while standing there I saw a poor mau
enter and put down his pack and knee! be¬
side his burden on the hard floor of that
cathedral. And tears of deep emotion came
into my eyes as I said to myself; “There is a
soul worth more than all "the material sur¬
roundings. That mau will live after the last
pinnacle that cathedral has fallen, and not one stone of all
bled. He glory shall remain uncrutn-
is now a Lazaras in rags
and poverty and weariness, but immor¬
tal and a son of the Lord God
though Almighty, amid and the prayer he now offers,
many superstitions, I
believe God will hear, and among the apos¬
tles whose sculptured forms stand in the sur¬
rounding into the niches he will at last be lifted, aud
presence of that Christ whose suf¬
ferings fore which are represented by the crucifix be¬
he bows, and be raised in due
time out of all his poverties into the glorious
home built for him and built for us by “Him
(who maketh the Seven Stars and Orion.”
WHO COMPOSE THE SYNDICATE
That Furnishes the Cash to Reorganize
the Terminal.
A New York dispatch of Friday says:
Mr. Budge, a member of the firm of Hal!-
gartcn & Co., and one of the Richmond
Terminal reorganization committee, says
that the bankers’ syndicate to guarantee
the cash required for tbe consummation
of a plan for the reorganization of the
company mittee would as proposed by the Olcott com¬
be composed of the follow¬
ing firms and individuals among others .-
Hallgarten & Co., First National bank,
J. Kenny Todd & Co., Central Trust
Company, Lazard Lee Higginson & Co.,
Freeres, Chase National bank.
Maitland, Phelps & Co., Moore &
Schley, Oliver H. Payne, Spencer, Trask
& Co., E. C. Benedict & Co., Work,
StrnDg & Co., Edward --weet & Co., C.
J. Lawrence & Sons, Woevshoffer & Co.,
I. & S. Wormser, Poor & Greenough.
The amount of the Richmond Terminal
syndicate subscription is $14,500,000
cash. That is, the company will issue
$18,000,000 4 per cent, bonds to the syn¬
dicate subscribers at 80, less a commis-
sion of 2J per cent, cash and 2| per cent,
in preferred stock. There will also be
bonus of 85 per cent, in preferred stock,
so that tbe new 4 per cent, bonds, with
preferred worth 50 should not cost sub¬
scribers much, if any, above 60.