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Orange County observer. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1880-1918, April 02, 1903, Image 1

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EITUlliBD IS 1373.
THE FALL
3
MINERVA
By A. Constance
. L - v OT, darling, I must be at
j J the office to-morrow morn
I ) ing. I can't lose all my
clients !" .
r "I've told you you're not to go baek
to-night." ,: ;j,
. "Bat I must, dear. Really!"
The speaker's voice verged on the
ulaiiitive.
"You can co In the morning. I don't
mind you leaving me so much when
tjje film's shining and it's bright and
cheerful."
"I shan't get in till afternoon then,
and that means another whole day
wasted. I must catch my train to
night." "Then you'll have to turn right round
tlie second we get up to my hotel and
walk all these five dreary miles back
to the station; and on this bitter night,
without your dinner! You can't travel
hundreds of miles without anything to
eat Don't be ridiculous!"
'I'll get something at the station."
Miss Dennison conveyed by her ex
pression that she considered the re-
w
sources of the station inadequate,
i "You are not going to-night, dear?"
"I must, pet." ,
; "You are going to stay, and eat a
good dinner beside a blazing fire, and
fcave a real nice, cozy evening. Just
think how dull I'll be if you go and
leave me all alone to listen to the howl
ing of the hateful wind!"
"I'd give anything to stay, my own
darling little girl. You know that as
well 3j I do. I'll be down again for
the week-end."
"Then you don't love me, and you
never loved me."
"Oh, my darling, don't begin all this!
I've got to catch that train to-night,
and nothing you can say or do will
make me miss it."
'Til never speak to you again if you
go by it; I swear I won't."
"For God's sake, don't let's have an
other scene! I'm getting perfectly sick
f It all!" , '
"Then why don't you turn
right'
round and leave me? Why do y out walk
on beside me? Why do you stay en
gaged to me?"
"Because I'm a fool!"
1 As Miss' Dennison could not consist
ently contradict the assertion, she con
fined herself to a dignified toss of her
head, and continued to walk along the
road m haughty silence.
A row of telegraph poles stretched
desolately before them, and the wind
swept across the marsh and .hummed
mournfully along the wires. Far away
the sea boomed, and the sharp, white I
sand flew. up from the road In stinging
powers, so that Miss Dennison put
ier muff before her face as she-battled
onward. The man at her side strode
on witii downcast head, and hands
lainmed deep into the pockets of his
overcoat. His cap, pulled low down
wer his frowning eyes, partly protect
ed his face from the onslaught of the
Sale. He was a stroncr. thick-set man.
and his expression resembled that of a I
wea-beaten but desneratelv- goaded I
fog.
A fat and cheeky gust of wind sent
the liirl's boa flvins? amnnrl her hat
and the man caught it juet in .time.
As three miles had still to Ik; traversed
before they reached the hotel' where
Iiss Dennison's people were staying,
ad Miss Dennison was of, a chatty
disposition, she welcomed this oppor
tunity to break the silence.
"If I were a man I should be perfect
Jy ashamed to let a girl insult me and
trample on me so! I don't know what
srt of a husband you think you'll
make!"
; e man preserved a discreet silence.
"I always wished to marry a man I
uld look up t0 Why you cant have
self -respect at all!"
' You've done your best to kill it,
Haven't you?" .. '
It is Doliev fnr iha nwniav tha'.'flnw
to maintain a firm hold if it resent
4t H at I - j .
psusement Miss Dennison tilted up
cam and assumed an air of in
"Bse and iniured indis-natinn .?v r
T,' tove done my best to wake it up.
taere is an insult which has power
g rouse you it is my misfortune, and
my fault, that I do not know it."
,;'AS Dennison's happy and fortunate
-omea looked down on her with
wuence that was tightly strained.
s there any object in q-jarfceling at
particular moment? The wind
J-es conversation rather an exertion;
a though I assume the proper
CP for me to take Is to turn on my
le vUnd stri(e away forever, I can't
S you to S home alone, you see."
; jtvay not?"
road's too lonely."
1 'juuiae
is more companionable
man
you.
more than happy object of Miss
Jason's affections hesitated; ' then
ueod not to answer. - v
' ..."Nkirl , of; sand, cama to
ofII
4
Smedley.
them up from the. ground. Miss Den-
nison stopped dead. A hoarding stood
on one side of the road, bethind the iron
railings. Tattered bills and posters
fluttered from it miserably.
"Dp come along, dear!" said the man.
Miss Dennison pressed her hands In
to her muff and began an exhaustive
study of the contents of the hoarding.
The man took a few steps forward. He
was of chivalrous disposition, but had
been engaged six months to Miss Den
nison.
"It will be dark in a few minutes."
Miss Dennison continued to peruse
the bills, pensive Interest in every line
of her arrested pose.
The man stood a few steps off, with
a look on his face akin to that on the
face of a nurse who waits for a more
than usually spoiled child.
Do you know I'm beginning to think
I've gone the wrong way about managing-you?"
An involuntary dimple, flashed and
disappeared in Miss Dennison's care
fully averted face. Her betrothed,
however, saw only a still abstracted
back.
"Suppose I were to take you at your
word and leave you to walk home
alone?"
"You are quite unmanly enough to
do so!" . ,. ...
"Unmanly!"
"Is it manly to wait round after me,
at my heels, like a little dog?"
What, in Heaven's name do you
want of me? If I rebel you have hys
terics and call me a brute!"
"'Vivyella!'" read Miss Dennison
aloud. "What ridiculous waists girls
have on fashion plates! Have you
noticed?"
The man suppressed an exclamation.
"But . that's rather a sweet blouse
she's wearing. I wonder if I could re
member it. I must make mental
notes."
Miss Denniscon rested her elbows on
the railing and buried her chin in her
muff; reflectively.
If you think you are going to make
me miss that train by dawdling in this
insensate fashion, you are mistaken."
"Sweet sleeve!" murmured Miss Den
nison. "I like the cuff so!"
"I shall simply leave you here, you
know."
"But I can't see how it's put on. Oh
it's cut all in one with the sleeve!" said
Miss Dennison, with a sudden burst
of illumination. "No. I must learn
that!"
Miss Dennison redoubled the -fixity
of her gaze.
I . know nerfectlv well you hear
everything I'm saying. Are you com
ing 'or aren't you?"
T believe it's arranged with a gus
set!" announced Miss Dennison.
The man opened his mouth, then sud
denly turned on his heel and swung
down the road. He had cut the Gor
dian knot. Miss Dennison must make
her deliberate wav home alone. He
had gone back to the station and his
citv - bound train.
Miss Dennison found herself left
staring at the hoarding in an attitude
of mind that can only be described as
one of stunned amazement. Then the
dimples reappeared, and Miss Denni
son' smiled into her muff with an air
of happy power.
"The further he goes', the further
he'll have to come bac"k, so I won't look
around," said the astute and experi
enced Miss Dennison; "and the slower
he is coming back, the surer he'll be
of missing his train. If he thinks he's
going to catch it to-night, when I want
hinuto stay here, be is very much mis
taken, the ridiculous old thing!"
Miss Dennison began to reperuse the
hoarding; it sheltered her pleasantly
from the wind.
",4: hundred pounds reward!"
An assuming little notice caught her
eyes. "Vivyella" as subject is cap
able of exhaustion. Miss Dennison wel
corned a change in literature with alac
crity.
As she read Miss Dennison's face
portrayed a curious panorama of ex
pression; her cheeks, paled, gradually.
The little notice bore a crown, and was
couched in terse and simple language;
it was an earnest invitation to a one
eyed gentleman to return to bis sor
rowing friends and guardians at the
convict prison across tne marsnes. iz
conciuaea witn a tnougntiui warning
to lonely and unprotected travelers as
to the gentleman's unprepossessing ap
pearance and playful disposition
Miss Dennison reread the bill with
interest no longer histrionic. The sea
mist was rising on the marshes. The
autumn dusk was
viubiu iuc
charm of meditation in the lonely land
scape seemed suddenly to have lost
their, savour. Miss Dennison looked
up and down the road; her despised
betrothed had vanished into the mist.
The lights of the station glimmered
HILLSBORO, N. C, THURSDAY, APRIL 2, 1903,
raguely far on the horizon. On the
other side three miles of deserted road
lay between her and her hotel. In the
direction of the station lay nearer safe
tybut humiliation; fior well did Miss
Dennison know that her strength lay
in her invulnerability. Let her once
lay down her sceptre and her reign of j
tyranny was over for ever. For slxi
months she had enjoyed despotism;!
was she.now to, eat humble-pie and cry
out for protection? With Napoleonic
resolution Miss Dennison turned in the I
direction of the hotel.
She took five steRs; then, far away
on the distant marshland, she saw a I
moving shadow. For the first moment I
she assured herself it was but a fan
tasy' of - her Imagination. Then the
shadow came nearer and resolved it
self into a human figure a shuffling,
clumsy, furtive figure, creeping with
bent head along the wall which separ
ated the barren pastures. Miss Denni
son , stood, arrested. The wind
moaned and whistled round the hoard
ing, but she heard it not. Her eyes
were fixed on the strange figure ad
vancing from the mists. Presently It
hesitated and stopped short. Had It
seen her? Suddenly, with cat-like
swiftness, the figure left the shelter
of the wall, and, still with downcast
head, struck out into the onen field.
With curious, swift strides, it was cov
ering the Intervening jground; in a few
minutes it would strike the open road
beside her.
Miss Dennison cast one wild glance
along the road in vain. Then, with a
sudden shriek, she was beating a re
treat towara tne station as fast as
fear and the kindly wind could carry
her.
Somewhere behind her a hoarse voice
shouted; somewhere behind her heavy
footsteps hastened. With blind eyes,
Miss Dennison fled on. Now the lights
of the station twinkled in the distance;
now the downward hill was gained
which led there. Now oh, rapture!
a tall, broad-shouldered and despised
betrothed turned and stood amazed
in the roadway, to" see Minerva fallen
from her pedestal and running after
him!
"Save me!" said Miss Dennison, and
flung herself, penitent, submissive.
breathless, in his arms.
"For God's sake, darling, here's
someone coming past! Wait a second
till he's passed us!"
Miss Dennison's betrothed, though a
lover, was an Englishman. -
Miss Dennison opened her eyes faint
ly.
'He's got your boa. See he's coming
up to you."
Two embarrassed young people stood
still while a still more embarrassed po
liceman approached them sheepishly.
"I called to the young lady, but you
didn't seem to hear, Miss. You dropped
it .iust by hoarding. I was coming
across marsh and I see the wind take
it, and I caught it as it flew across the
railings yonder."
Miss Dennison smiled whitely; Miss
Dennison's betrothed thanked the po
liceman more substantially. ' The po
liceman continued to the station with
contentment in his tread.
'Now, darling," said Miss Dennison's
betrothed.
'Oh, don't be angry!" said a sudden
ly abject despot. "I'll never be horrid
again. I'll always do exactly what you
tell me. . Only, darling, darling, dar
ling, don't leave me to go home along
that dreadful, dreadful road alone!"
"My poor, frightened little girl;
What a brute I've been!"
"You have rather," confessed Miss
Dennison.
s .
Along , the lonely road two lovers
loitered. The wind swept merrily
above them and around them, all un
heeded. Miss ," Dennison's face was
screened from the rough blest, her
head was hidden penitently against a
sheltering arm.
And, as they walked along. Miss
Dennison's betrothed concluded a kind
and decisive conversation in which
Miss Dennison played an astonishingly
contrite and secondary part.
'And you understand, dear, there are
to be no more of these ridiculous quar
rels."
"No. darling. I'll do whatever you
wish." .
"The man must always be the head
I've been foolish to give into you so
weakly. It's been as much my fault
as yours."
"Yes, dear; it has."
"But you have been very inconsider
ate."
'A woman is always more in love
uiau a, iuu.ix.
"A man has duties which he must
fulfill."
"Yes, darling; and it's very wonder -
fnl snd hPflntifnl of him to neglect
them for a .woman's, sake a silly, cow -
ardlv, selfish, unattractive girl 1"
Mise Ttenfiismi's betrothed reiutea
suc-n an appreciation or aerfcuaiaui.cx
with warmth. M ..." -,'r-1
"Please!" said Miss Dennison. "The
hotel people will see us." v. - -
The brilliant facade of the hotel shone
out suddenly behind the hill. Miss
Dennison and her betrothed walked
0iTr .. i;7. wTiora. Kpt
aiuiuuB jjtuyiu tu'-i
the, piazza. Miss Dennison conducted
her betrothed in triumph into the hall.
Late that evening Miss Dennison and
her betrothed concluded another con
versation of a similar nature.
"And you'll be down at half -past 7 in
the morning to give xne mg break
iast?" - ' . -jjj-
"Yes, sweetheart" -
"And you'll take me to the station?'
Yes," darling." . $ ''
"And always do exactly as X tell
you?" ':v --T5L-h
"Yes, my own." ' . V
Miss Dennison hesitated. Then she
ascended the' stair pensively; while her
betrothed stood at the bottom and
watched adoringly. At the turn of tht
baluster she paused, candle in hnnrt
The light shono on her sweet na
saint-like profile.
"But, all the same" said Miss Den.
nison, "you must - admit you did not
catch the train."--The Sketch.
k :
.4 ' V
NAVAJO blankets;
How They Won TheirNation&l
Repute
tlon. r .. . '
Though Navajo blankets as rugs.
portieres, couch coverings and a dozen
other things, have held their own in
American homes for-a season and
more, there are many interesting de
tails of their manufacture which are
not known to the casual customer.
The impress of the Spanish cross, re
calling the invasions of the Goronado
expedition of 1540 is still paramount in
ims industry or tne trme. tois marked
the Navajo's first knowledge of the
white race, and the later influence of
Mexican art can be traced in the zig
zagging diamond. There is always one
blanket weaver in a Navajo family,
generally a woman, though sometimes
a man, and the blanket frame which is
erected outside the "hogan," or hut, is
part of its architecture. This frame
is of upright posts or rude poles.
Kneeling or squatting in front of it
is the patient weaver from morning
till night The blankets are considered
a medium of barter, as current as any
coin among the neighboring tribes,
for the Navajo's country is the finest
for flock raising,; and their wool far
famed. The dyes used, too, are practi
cally indelible, and their manufacture
is a tribe secret. The blanket is th
banner garment of the squaws with
'dressy" aspirations, and the choicest
of wigwam decorations. . The care
taken in the making of these blankets
may be realized when one knows that
two or three months are given to the
manufacture of some of the more elab
orate. No two of these are ever ex
actly alike, and for certain-tribal cere
monies especial patterns 'are intro
duced. ' The choicest designs are. re
served for enshrouding the dead, as
the journey to the "Happy Hunting
Ground" is considered much enhanced
by the richness of the traveler's wrap
ping, it is tne .Navajo DianKet, too.
that oftenest forms the charmed
square of the snake dancing Mokis,
and the sun dancers of the Shoshones
and Arapahoes carpet their sacred in-
closures with these same weaves that
American bachelors and den devotees
pay such round prices for. No wonder,
with its history, its wealth of associa
tion, with its richness of color and
originality of design, the Navajo
blanket has attained a National reputa
tion. . hi
Keed's Smart Office Boy. .'.
The late Thomas Bracket Reed was
fond of telling the following story
regarding the bright little office boy
whom he kept in his employ in Wash
ington, and for whom he prophesied a
brilliant financial career:
A gentleman calling on Mr. Reed one
day, while waiting in the reception
room, was attracted by the manner
of the small attendant and started a
random conversation.
"And how much do you earn a' week,
my boy?" he inquired.
"Fifty dollars," said the youngster.
with avidity.
Being shown into, the Senator's pri
vate office just then the visitor's sur
prise found vent in words.
"Mighty bright boy you have there,
Mr. Reed, to be getting $50 a week,"
"Fifty nothing," said Mr. Reed; 'he
gets $5.50."
'But he told me just now you were
giving him $50 a week," persisted the
gentleman.
"Nonsense," said Mr. Reed, and
touched the bell. "Billy," he said,
"did -you tell this gentleman I was
paying you $50 a week?"
'No, sir." - '
"You didn't? (Well, what did yon
. . .
say?" - -
'I said I earned it," was the
prompt and stout re joinder- New York
Mail and Express. 011
The Mysterious Ring".
This story is being told in5 Paris
j concerning a well-known public : man
I who recently was presented Dy a aou
1 danese potentate with a Labaksi-Tapo
order of merit The recipient, anxions
1 to display the decoration at the earliest
I opportunity, applied at once to the
Minlstrv tor permission to wear ji.
i wnue reauuy w
I the Ministry inquired witn a gnost or
a.smile: "Do yon know what the or-
l der is like?" "Certainly," repiiea xne
I delighted applicant "It is a Deauuiui
gold ring, and hanging from it a smaii
red enamel pipe of peace. I should
I tUro. rotiv it" "Of course vou mav
iv.(
to wear -It S& it is worn by the natives
I of Africa
"And how might 'th8&?the denizens of the oden centuries to say,
be?"
Why, with the ring througn
the nose." The new knight of the
Labaksi-Tapo order has not been heard
J of since. Westminster Gasettft
NEW SERIES-VOL.
' '- a m . -
I ' r r1'1 - '
OUR SUNDAY SERMON
THE GROWTH IN GOOD; THINGS
The Idea of Growth Close to the
Foundation of the System of Our
Religion.
. New York City .-Dr. Charles H. Park
aurst, pastor of the Madison- Sauare Pres
byterian Church, preached Sunday morn
ing on '"Growins in the Things of the
Kingdom of God." The text was from II.
eter'iii: 18: "Grow in grace and in the
knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ. -
Tq grow- growing in the things of the
Kingdom of God; that is our matter this
mormng. It is a great Bible word, "grow"
is; particularly a great gospel word. The
word incarnates the idea of life,; and of
"fe that is swelling, crowding apart the
shell and crushing up in the direction of
becoming a tree; knocking down walls and
breaking forth into territory outlying. "I
am come that t.hpxr -mioTif Viavo aa -,i
that they might have it more abundantly."
mu" mure oi it, me uouDimg and
quadrupling upon itself.
.That is one of the ideas that lie close at
the foundation of God's system of produc
tion and administration life, and more
and more of it. Everything is for the sake
of the things that grow. What cannot
gro i1? for the sake of tnat which can
scaffolding along which the living walls can
be bunt, trellis up which the growing nnes
can clamber. The first two davs of God's
great week were only a sort of creative pre
lude getting things ready, the seas collect
ed the land dried off, in readiness for the
nsh that live, the grass and the trees that
grow and man; scaffolding and trellises
prior to the temple and the vines.
It was a strange moment in our long his
tory when the first live thing began to be,
something that was no roek, no mineral.
And the old torturing problem is, where it
came from out of the ground? Out of
God's hand that had been holding it till
the right mament came? Out of the air
?nd drifted down from some other globe
that had commenced harvesting before our
furrows were plowed? Which?
v was a Preme moment one of
the moments when it almost seems that
trod must have stopped aninstant to ru
minate, as the Genesis record intimates
He did when at last there began to be a
man. something that God could enjoy and
see His own great divine face borne back
to Him in a small human reflection. Even
before that supreme hour struck things had
gone on reshaping themselves and reshap
ing themselves; but reshaping is not grow
ing. The glacier in every step of its frozen
journey reshapes itself, but the glacier does
not grow. The great hills, the earth itself,
take all kinds of shapes from century to
century, from aeon to aeon, but they do
not grow; but the corn grows, and man
grows at least sometimes; some men.
The body grows, at any rate; that is the
rule. It not simply existsf-a mineral does
that, a block of stone does thatbut it
lives, and, from infancv iro.-with a life that
is' more and more a life blade, ear, full
corn; which is the phvsical side of that
verse m John, "that they mighT'hjaver life
and have it more abundantly." And not
only is there the kind of growth that
makes the individual more and more richly
a live thing, on the way from infancy to
mature manhood, and more completely
and btauteously human on his animal side,
put the race as a whole appears to have
been progressing in that resnect till we
may suppose that man, as the last forty or
more centuries show him is about as annA
a thing physically as he can be; the sort of
human animal that God had in His eye
when first He went about to produce man.
We have reached the limit in point of stat
ure and presumably in point of refinement
of organization.
Arrived at this stage, any new growth
that the race might make would have to be
ft. Striking out into some freah rhannel.
The body being a finished body, the rising
current of life in man in the growing
man will, perforce, seek some new issue
for itself. No longer needed to make for
him a more highly organized body, the wax
ing tide overflows into the shaping of a
more finelv organized mind. The life is
there, the growing life is there, and so
when one thing is finished another thing
has to ba taken up, and when, -in the
ourse of long year of development, man
had become perfect as an animal he started
in upon the course of making himself per
fect as an intelligence.
That is what he is doing now, and it is
inexpressibly wonderful what he has al
ready achieved in this direction. The race
cannot contemplate itself in respect of the
advance made within historic times unon
lines of thought and research without "be
holding itself with feelings of admiration
verging close upon reverence. , It is not
easy to understand how one can take ac
count of the steadily advancing line of oro-
gress made by man into the domain of
truth, the truth of the physical world at
any rate, without becoming aware of a cer
tain impulse, a certain infilling of life from
somewhere that inundates wider and wider
patches of newly reached area, as the ris-
: eah reJ,urrin2 farther np on the
sloping beach. How many thousand years
it has been since man commenced to think,
theorize and discover nobody knows,- and
the Bible does not tell us, but up . to date
the record is a tremendous one. and there
is no limit in sight. Ail of this is telling
US what a wonderful thing it was that Goa
did when He started the race on its career
of growth and conquest. Whether you
think of the way in which the human eye
has penetrated into the stellar: spaces and
read out in terms of every day English the
I VA.VMH.MVU V..V.V V Vl V. .'
God wrought into the glittering fabric of
the heavens, or whether vou think of what
at shorter range has been effected by the
study of our own globe and of the laws
that pervade it, of the forces that actuate
it and of the ways in which its mysteries
have been solved and converted into com
monplace utilities, the story one and
the same all the way through." All these
discoveries of course celebrate the splendid
omnipotent wisdom of . a God. that could
make such a world, but they celebrate the
magnificence of the human creature tnat
could, in point of intelligence, grow far
enough toward lioa to be aoie to mace tne
1 - r . L J.1 .
discoveries. itrre& out. cue purpuiscs ui
things, think out in common words the
- . - - century after
century, miuennium after millennium, for
ever widening the area oi Knowledge and
creatine for human thought an empire
steadilv advancing upward, outward and
downward upon lines iaiu aown oy.xne m-
finite mind.
it is certainly easy to say, and it is very
common to say, that the realities of the
eonndentlv rotten at. oust as c-eriaimv
waa an easy aa(i very natural thing for
or at any rate to think, that 'the great
IVnta that shone in the heavens could not
be gotten at, or that a man could not hold
instant anil intelligible intercourse with
jajJifitant ..neighbor 3000 miles across the
XXII. NO. 10.
eabut uch intercourse is now matter t
history, and as to the heavenly bodies thafc
were once but an impossible and winter-'
pretable vision, the human mind up to
certain point contemplates them to-day
wita as assurea and as steady a thought toi
that, with which it marks the flight of. a
bird or th flutter of a leaf. '
Inithe realm of the sniritnal: on th c-
'trary. not a eroat deaf h.i hetr. ar-ftivtA
yet that the spirit of man can encourage
itself with or that it can found great ex
pectations upon and profound anticipa-
uons. iso xar as such matters are cottr
cerned we are not much farther along an
the realities of the world spiritual thaa ,
tlie wi rid was along geographically in the
days' when Columbus was wondering ; if
there; were not more beyond the shores o
Spain than the fifteenth century yet knew
of, or much farther than the world wa
along astronomically when David shep
herded his flocks and musingly watcHjed
the stxrs hovering above the Judean hills."
- And we should be stimulated in the di
revtion oi coming into closer quarters with
the sublime facts of the sniHtnal xenAA
God, soul and all the eternals, if we would
keep closer company with those impulses
of ours, those spiritual appetites, that in
stinctively lean and extend themselves in
the direction of that susnected hnfc nn
known world. There is not an impulse yet
.14 l-.l ' ii t ,1 1
ucictieu m our nature, wnetner pnysicai
or mental, that has not been found in .
course of time to be co-related with some- v
thing outside that precisely matches it.
Thirst means that there is water, and the.
water is there waiting. The eye means
that there is light, and the light is there
waiting. The buddinc interrosation in the
childs mind means that there is truth, and
the truth s therp waitinc. So far a vet:-
have yet gone the inward impulse ha',
shown itself to be an infallible DroDheev
of an outward reality that perfectly fits it. ,
And-those great longings of the soul that
swell within as in our best and freest mo
ments, so great sometimes as to be beyond
our power to articulate, these, too, it .is '
foolish anrl stnniH in ria tn trpjif n 1ps
trustworthy and lntallibie than are the
quieter appetences of the intelligence or
tlie coarser instincts of the body. There is
no safe creed that does not start in with
a confession of faith in one's own superb
self srmerb in t.hf spnse of binor cif t.if!
- - V W W.WW WW - " -
with , powers that put him in direct rela
tion with the rocks under him, the air
about him, the great God overhead, and
the eternal realm of Spirit, human and di
vine. . And that gives a man something t
go upon. It at once makes the farthest
star in the heavens a proper object of in
quiry, and lays out before him a highway
into the heart and centre of the kingdom
spiritual.
But. the highway into the heart and cen
tre of the kingdom soiritual is not a road-
that is being numerously traveled. We are
about as far along on that road as Colum
bus was on the vay to the Western Conti
nent when he wa3 still heaving anchor in
the harbor of Palos. But the road is as
feasible and passable as the waterway of
the Atlantic. And the world is going to
get .there. The religious impulse, the pas-
God is knowable and He is going to be
known. .Spiritual things are discernible
and they are going to be discerned. There
is such a thing as the life eternal and there
is such a thing as having a realization ox
that-iife,; having-it here, too, as a matter
of clear and definite experience. We are
not saying anything just now as to the na
ture of the highway that leads into the
midst of the spiritually discerned realities,
that jcompose ; that kingdom, nothing just;
now about the steos a man takes in tread
ing, that highway. The only impression; I
am studying to leave this morning is that
there is a continent oi reality as distmcn '
from the continent of every day interest
as the Western Hemisphere of our globe,
is distinct from the Eastern; that we are
endowed with faculties which to the de- .
gree in which they are develooed and ex
ercised make the matters of that remoter
continent .as certainly distinguishable and
as confidently appreciable to the earnest
Spanish explorers; that spiritual discern
ment has just as solid a meaning in its re
lationito things spiritual as ocular discern
ment has in its relation to tinners material. -and
that it is capable of yielding results
that are just as convincing and satisfying,
and lie as solidly planted in the assurance
of the man that has become spiritually cog-:
nizant of them; that the soul is endowed
with the faculty of a vision that is as true
as the vision of the body, independent of
bodily" vision and a thousand times more
richly and wonderfully gifted. :.(
Men? are interested "in houses, lands,
clothes, money, markets, commerce, science
and art, but there is not much interest m
religion. There is interest in the matter
of being saved, whatever that may mean,'
but' desire to be saved is no more religion
than .the desire to be gotten out of the
water .when you have fallen overboard i
navigation.
This does not mean that there are not a
good many who have an inkling of the
meaning ot the spiritual kingdom, some
thing -as men at sea gain a suspicion of
distant land by observing the impalpable
blanket of mist that hovers about it. It i
not much in itself, and yet it is a great
deal, because of the much that it is capa-
Die oi,. widening out mio. xx, is a Kinu oi
spiritual coast line which, seen from afar,
appears to be but a filmy thread, but
which is for all that the solid edge of a
solid continent.
j.or aoes mac wniun wc nave oeeu isny
ing mean that there are not those who
T J iL.l 1 " .1- 1 T
have already traveled a good stretch or
distance into the midst of things, the spir
itual verities, that make out the spiritual
world. - In all departments of life and in all
directions of growth there have always
been men who have outrun their fellows,
pioneers in the enterprise of - discovery,
giants in research who have stood high and
looked; over the shoulders of their contem
poraries, . who have lived m the same
world as thev. but at the same time lived
in a larger world than they. In the world
ot rehgious thought and experience we
call such men prophets. A prophet, prop
erly speaking, is not so much a man who
is able to see what is going to be as he -i
one who sees more widely than others the
things which arenow. There is such ,a
thing, even in matters of science, as coming.
so into, accord with the spirit ot scientmc.
truth 'is to be able' to see with a firm and
fast "vision where eyes less tympatheqc
have failed. Exactly the narallel of that
has been true over and over again in that
ether world of truth mysteriously hidden
that is our special concern this morning.
And, as I say, we call such ones prophets.
And there are prophets now as in the oki
days men and women whose fmiritttijl
steps are more than abreast with their
own day. .Thry know what they see, they
realize what they leeJ, and it is .as leeme
and" infantile for those whose eyes have in
that has been made to these prophets and
prooheteeses of a longer and purer sight,
as for you and me to slur over with ironi
cal contemnt the revelations brought back
to U3 by those who have, climbed tanner
than wc into the heights. of the material
heavens. '
"XTonl- lio Vmrprnr nf Ahvssinia. i
r.n out-and-out temperance reformer. ?iot
only has he prohibited the importation of
intoxicants into frtluoma. cm. ioeu- iuanu
, facture and sale are forbidden. . . w. .; .

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