Newspaper Page Text
AVANNAB i Dovotccl to tlxo Ixxtorosstai of XXrcixL County mci Her fooplo. - VOLUME XVI. SAVANNAH, TENNESSEE, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1900. NUMBER 10. - i SOME DAY. You're going t take a long vacation, v Borne day. You will travel o'er all creation, mi. , Some day. 2&h old,J""nn ou"n Idly roam. And r.TJf "iWatna's dome. And eo the geishas In their home) Home day, Tou will go to EKyptl gee the Bphn , Bome day. You will climb the Pyramids, mothlnks, Bome day. Khnn?. .r"."1' mysterious Nllo, hhoot at the festive crocodile, And kodak every thln the whllo," Bome day. To Italy'i classic shores you'll hlo, , 8ome day. Bee Naples' Hay and refuse to die, Along tho tourist s usual groove kntrnnced, with dreamful eyes, you'll Bee old Pompeii and -Hmb Vcsoov, Some day. You'll io old Rome, and the Holy Land, , , , Some day. Tick shells on India's coral strand, Some day, Explore the Islands of the ocean, W 1th naught to stay your locomotion Wherever you may take the notion, , . Bome day. Ah, trusting brother, you will find, Bome day. You ve lane this only In your mind, Some day. Put when life's Journey's over, ind On Jordan's stormy banks you stano. Maybe you'll see the Promised Land. Some day. Chicago Tribune. A PRAIRIE QUEEN I MOWS your chance, Deronda!" ; cried the agent's hearty voice. When he had carried the muil bags ip from the depot he had waited until their contents were distributed. That was not a long time. It never was in Excelsior. And to-night the sacks had not been of sufficient weight to tax his strong shoulders. But out of their lankncss had come a surprise for him, and an opportunity for Deronda. "I can guess. It's a letter from Uncle Donald. A check?" Once in awhile, at Christmas al ways, a letter inclosing a check ar rived from Donald Bertram, of New York. And his brother, who found his petty salary as station master of the insignificant Nebraska town quite in commensurate with the needs of a large and increasing family, hailed the advent of each inclosure with grati tude and elation. "N-o. It's a letter from Donald but there's no check." He looked across at his best loved and eldest child with a smile brighter than even the welcome check had ever sum moned. "Guess ngainr' She looked at him from her opposite end of the table where she presided, her mother in true western fashion still being busied at the kitchen stove until the remainder of her family had eaten. Between Deronda and her father a noisy and vorncldus young brood intervened eight or ten of them. Deronda was kept bty attend ing to their needs. She and licr moth er "did" for the rest. They ate as Iheir portion whatever was left. And neither dreamed of complaining. Labor and service were their ethics of domesticity. But now Deronda paused in her task of pouring out the numerous cups of milk, "Father! It's good news! Keep still, Flora! What is itr The tidings came out in a rush. "If you will go to New York for a visit the check will follow your letter of ac ceptance. There!" Deronda was the healthiest girl in town, but for the moment she felt positively weak. She set down the pitcher. The children clamored un heeded. "O!" she gasped, "I must tell moth er!" Then she was gone, and the over worked man with the kindly face waited on the children himself. Those that followed were exciting days. The little, straggling, low rooms over the depot were the scene of many confabulation!, much schem ing, many glorious hopes, innumerable pleasant prophecies. J!onda, as the children called her, was going away away into some vast and mystic fairy land, which their vivid imaginations merged in the triple ecstasy of Yule tide, Heaven and the Fourth of July. But one day order was born of con fusionsobriety of hysterical antici pation. That was the day Deronda's trunk stood labeled and corded on the platform tho day Deronda's self, freshly and becomingly garbed, Btood beside it. The day that Agent Bert ram, and Mrs. Bertram, and all the numerous young Bertrams listened for the whistle of the train at the depot eight miles west; hung around " her with growing excitement as the black column of smoke came down Ilk the guide of those fleeing from Pharaoh, and clung around her in an adoring farewell, which was detri mental to her finery If flattering to her sensibility. Then the iron beast was upon them. A few passengers alighted. Some ex press packages were handed off. -These the agent mechanically received. Then Deronda's foot was on the first step of the Pullman. The engineer was look ing back to see that the agent's pretty daughter got on safely before he pulled the throttle. The brakeman stood ir resolute. The conductor loitered along, deferring the signal to start, because the departure of Deronda for the east was public property all along the line, and the men who had known her since the wore short dresses and waved them . welcome when their train went by " "! ..Elated in this young bird- r,A f her. from the overflowing mguv - 1 1 vi omT "a teaTative whistle quivered ia the alr.'rnod-bv. Deronda! Hsve a good . . G?,f n.d'. father gave her a hard Jjieoeoithebwd. There WMth peck of a kiss between these two who loved each other so dearly. v And the truin was speeding east ward. Ah, that was a, marvelous world Into which Derondn went a world where one wore dainty clothes from dawn till dawn! A world where the chief function of the women was to charm that of the men. to serve with the most exqulsitecourtesj'. And the meed of ad miration she received, when her west ern dresses had been discarded for beautiful gowns, w as new to her. Very sweet it was, too. To be sure, she had known what it was to have young men besiege her for dances and hang upon her words. But in one case those who had given her tribute were clumsy and rough-handed country bovs. The men to whom her later environment intro duced her possessed that indefinable air of breeding, of culture, of distinc tion which can be neither bought nor acquired. And she found the melody of trained voices at the opera sweeter than the triple note of the meadow lark the scent of hothouse roses more delicious than the perfume of wild clover. And so, too, she discovered entrance ment in the homage of Kldred Wier. Not that in his case there was the pos sibility of comparison. She hail never been touched by the attentions of her former acquaintances. There had not been one who attracted her. When she came east she was quite heart whole and fancy free. But missiles the gentlest of missiles well directed, did their deadly and delicious work. Ter haps these would not have been bo promptly effective, even if hurled by Dan Cupid's unerring hand, had Deron da realized that she w as the bright par ticular star of the season. Had anyone told her that her piquant, golden-brown beauty, her unconscious air of aloof ness, her repose, begotten of prairie life and placid daily duty, had won for her a higher meed of approbation than was usually accorded to a new-comer in an exclusive coterie, she would have opened her serene gray eyes wide in smiling increduMty. All the girls had admirers. Almost all the girls had lov ers. But not one of them had such a lover as Eldred Wier. One month passed two three! And always there were the same tributes always there was the same direct per sonal deference. Theaters, dinners, flowers, bonbons, gloves, afternoon visits, rides and drives! Always the same low, intimate tone) lingering hand-pressure, the magnetie allure ment of impassioned eyes! Then sud denly it seemed it was time to go home. Time to go back to the dull tit tle town, to the rooms over the depot, to the horde of clamorous children. Eldred Wier was the last to leave the Pullman. His worshiping eyes devoured the beauty of the shy, expectant face. His hand held hersiaa close and tender clasp. He bent his head. He spoke lu a tone that thrilled her. "You know you must know that I love you! You know, could I have my way. I would never let you go!" Then the train began to move. He was gone. Five vears later there was a tremen dous rush of travel westward. The Ne braska town of Wymore was one of those cauerht in the vortex of impetu ous pleasure seekers. Although there were many health seekers, too, bound for the solacing serenity of Colorado or the irolden clorv of California. A snlendid summer da v was waning w hen a snorting train disgorged its myriads on the depot platform. A young man, nervous and haggard of aspect, helped an elderlv woman to alitrht. With scant show of patience he hurried her into the waiting-room. "I tell you I've got to leave you fof awhile.'' he declared, testily. "I've a letter to present to one of the eastern officials of the hoad. His private car is due here now. I'll be back as soon as I can." Heedless 01 ner wnimpereo od icctlons he hurried off. A talL beau tiful vounir woman, most charmingly gowned, attracted the observation of the throng as she came down the wait ing-room. She noticed the woman sit tlnir alone, and evidently in distress. "Can I be of service?" sJie inquired, pausing. The traveler, in apparel too elabo rate and youthful for her years, looked nn into the eentle face of the tmeaker. Her wrinkled cheeks were chalky under their rmiM. and her false curls and bonnet were awry. "No." she shrilled, heedless of hear- ers. "No one can neipme. lurougnm on myself. Me, worth half a million, to iroand marry that young whipper snapper, that leaves me here like a bale of goods! Not even a drink 01 waier- The vounir woman brought her a irlnsd of water, set straight the disor lererl hair and bonnet, and fanned the agitated old face, talking pleasantry the while. "I am here," she said, "to meet my fciiEhnnd. He is one of the directors ol the road. There his special has just come in! He is coming this way." She rose eagerly. "There is some one with Hm " Khe took a sten forward. "Wei nme. Will!" at the stately man who kdJ hastened to her side bent and kissed her. "If it wasn't for this young lady, v.ldrtd " The resentful wail was cut ahnrt bv a sharp exclamation. White death Eldred Wier stared at Deronda Leighton. She looked from him to tho shriveled old creature on the seat. So this was why he had never written iail never come ! This was why she had fancied her heart was broken, until "a better man drew nlghl ' "Mr. Wier!" The glimmering smile ; ,er radiant eves maddened him. "I have been making the acquaintance of your wife." "Mr. Wier," she explained her handsome husband, "is an old enuaintance of mine. But it is meet and part. Good-bjV She swept the travelers with a graceful bow. "We ..n miicf rm low. Will. dear, the carriaga is waitinr."-Chicago Tribune, DAY OF BARBECUES. a Ante - Bellum Days Feasting Went with Spellbinding. dew and Old Campaigns Compared A Graphic Picture of Political Activities In the Snath Be fore the War. Special Nctv Orleans Letter. POLITICAL campaigns of the pres ent day are very different from those oi the penoa ending wun the late war between the states. Dur ing the second quarter of the present sentury the campaigns were lively and very interesting. The leaders of the political parties were not only men of ast intelligence, but many of them wero statesmen and orators. Those were campaigns of education, in the broadest tense of that much ill-used term. The leaders on the respective sides were not mere politicians who took no interest in affairs unless an office was within sight, but they were often men who did not want office. They worked for the good of the cause. Only lawyers with large practice, or rich planters, or men of wealth, could go to congress, when the pay was $6 and then J3 per clay. The southern members, especially, lived in the luxurious elegance which char acterized that bnronial and aristo cratio class, and an election or ap pointment to office meant the outlay of a small fortune. They honored themselves and the position. Those who were poor retired from office poorer than when they accepted it. Bribery and jobs wero almost un known, and those few instances that were known invariably brought on the disgrace and isolation of the official. The men who took the lending part in the campaigns of the generation preceding the late rebellion were, in deed, leaders, and had the confidence of the people. They were men of eith- i 'Hill, i . if .'...iniu ium r ' A POLITICAL BARBECUE er state or national reputation, such as J. C. Breckinridge, the Wickliffcs, Crittendcns and Marshalls, of Ken tucky; Jesse D. Bright, of Indiana; Jefferson Davis, Henry S. Foote, 6. 6. Prentiss, J.. A. Quitman nnd McNutt, of Mississippi; John Slidell, Pierre Soule, J. P, Benjamin and Randall Hunt, of Louisiana; William L. Yan cey, of Alabama; Gov. Pickens, the Rhctts, Butlers and Ilugers, of bouth Carolina; W. M. Gwinn, of California; John Bell, of Tennessee; Douglas, of Illinois; Stephens, Howell Cobb and King.of Georgia; Henry A. Wise, John Y. Mason and It. M. T. Hunter, of Vir ginia. In every state and national campaign these statesmen were in the front, on their respective sides. The issues of the campaigns were dis cussed at joint meetings. Now each political party has its special meet ing, and only its own speakers are FRANCIS W. PICKENS. . (An Old Bouth Carolina Campaigner of Na tional Fame.) heard. In those good old days, when democratic and whig orators were ar rayed against each other, the meet ings wer8 composed of men of both parties and usually about in equal pro portion to the strength of each party. The democrat was not so hide-bound but that he was willing to hear what the whig expounder had to offer and why he thoughtliis system of politics the better. The whig voter also want ed to know what the democrats had by way of argument. The ditors of the newspapers, who weie generally political leaders, and often were good speakers, attended these meetings, and took "copious notes " These they printed, eulogiz ing the orator, if of their political faith; but if of the opposition the editor gave a running criticism, in terjecting his own political opinions by way of reply. These editorial re ports weie run on the editorial page. Often the report was a scathing at tack on the speaker and his party, and a duel followed for editors in those dijs. especially in the south, were men of standing and held them selves personally responsible for their editorials. Many of them were en gaged in practicing law or were po litical leaders, and ran a newspaper as a side issue, not for profit but for the good of the party. Gradually, report ing broadened into a feature, and while tho reporter made a "story" out of the speeches, and the "enthuslastio crowd present," the editor always re served a few columns on his page for nn essay. It is related in one instance when Henry Clay made an oration at a southern city that the reporters got excited and forgot to take notes. However, as a rule, this was immate rial, for every editor, and even the sub-editors, as tho reporters were styled, were well posted on the polit ical issues of the day, and knew tol erably well the arguments to be ad vanced by either side. In those days politics was not a trade, and no one's education was considered complete unless he understood the political Is sues of the day, the history of polit ical parties and of the government. Consequently, when a man offered himself for office he knew something, and the only choice was one of prin ciple, and not men. In state and na tional campaigns the candidates of fered themselves as a sacrifice, as a rule as far as the emoluments of the offices were concerned. As an exam ple, Jefferson Davis, democrat, re signed a seat in the United States sen ate to make the rnce for governor of Mississippi against a popular whig, Ho led a lost cause and was defeated. But he reduced the whig vote, "which was mainly owing to the oratorical abilities of himself and other leaders of the party in that memorable cam paign. We do not hear of such sacrifices for party in these days. Men may resign office, but it is to grasp a better pay ing one. Other similar instances might be cited, but this is ths most notable. Politics were as pure as pot itics could be, nnd speeches wfre uni formly scholarly, conclusive, able and often oratorical gems. The speaker! were men of education, and. ulthough "elocution" and "gesturing" schools J were almost unknown, especially in IN ANTE-BELLUM DATS. the south, the speakers were an lm provement upon those stilted "spell binders" of to-day. While oratory it not a lost art, wc do not have so much of it in the latter day campaigns as in the days when political leaders gave more attention to the public affairs of the country. The issues of those cam. paigns were more of local and genera interest, perhaps, than those of tin present day. One of the "burning is- sues" was the right of the territorict to introduce or prohibit slavery. An' other was whether congress hud the right to legislate on .the question of slavery. During the second quartet of this century those issues were ever uppermost, nnd thexleading men were heard in every campaign until the civil war silenced argument, and the matter was settled by arms. These two issues culminated at the Charles ton convention, in I8fi0, which result ed In a split between the rival cnndl- dates, Davis, of Mississippi, ana Steph' en A. Douglas, of Illinois. Breckin' ridge and Douglas led the rival wings of the democratic party to defeat, During that campaign the issues were so personal thnt the old plan of joint discussion was abandoned, especially in the rural districts, for at that time men began to reason less, and,. niasV) political belief a personal matter. In' the early campaigns, in the rural districts, a barbecue was the feature of every joint meeting. The darkys o the plantations, who understood the knack of barbecuing beeves, were em- ployed and looked forward to thes occasions with no little pride, for they boasted upon their culinary ability The speakers passed good-natured jokes, sandwiched in their incisive, ex, hnustive and "unanswerable" argu ments, at which the rival partisans cheered and laughed alternately. At noon a recess was tak.-n, when both sides adjourned to the long ta bles under the bower to eat, and dis cussed politics good-naturedly. After dinner the speaking was continued by orators of less renown, during which time the "small boys" and the darky- fell in line and finished up the richly barbecued meats ar.d jies and stuff which had been added by the ladies o the nelgnoorhood. The picturesque ness of the olden-time political meet ings and the necessary barbecue passed away with the civil war. New men and new issues have come upon the stage, and the veteran statesmen of those good old days hav nearly all passea away. The cam paigns do not seem to be so interest ing as then, neither are the issues so ably discussed, nor the meetings so largely attended. The masses depend more upon the newspapers for report of speeches, also for their ideas, a they think less in their pursuit of wealth. j. m. SCANLAND. Sliver Kot Coined There. Australia coins its own gold, but cot It silver. THE KING'S GARDEN. Dr. Talmage Discourses on Christ and the Church. The Moil Brantlfol Flowers and the Best of Fruit-Why (he Sav iour Picks (he Choic est First. Copyright, 1!W0, by Louis Klopsch. Washington, 7 This sermon Dr. Talmage sends from a halting place in his journey through the valleys of Switzerland. It seems to have been prepared amid the bloom and aroma of a garden midsummer. The text is Song of 6olomon 5:1: "I am come into my garden." The Bible is a great poem. We have in it faultless rhythm and bold imag ery and startling antithesis and rap turous lyric and sweet pastoral and list rue tive narrative and devotional psalm; thoughts expressed in style more solemn than that of Montgom ery, more bold than that of Milton, more terrible than that of Dante, more natural than that of Words worth, more impassioned than that of Pollok, more tender than that Of Cowper. more weird than that of Spenser. This great poem brings all the gems of the earth into its coronet, and it weaves the flames of judgment into its garland's and pours eternal harmonies in its rhythm. Everything this Book touches it makes beautiful, from the plain stones of the summer thrashing floor to tho daughters of Nahor filling the troughs for the camels, from the fish pools of lleshbon up to the Tsalmist praising God with diapason of storm nnd whirlwind and Job's imagery of Orion, Arcturus and the Pleiades, My text leads us Into a scene of summer redolence. The world has had great many beautiful gardens Charlemagne added to the glory of his reign by decreeing that they be es tablished all through the realm, de ciding even the names of the flowers to be planted there. Henry IV. at Montpellier established gardens of be witching beauty and luxuriance, gath ering into them Alpine, Tyrenean and French plants. One of the sweetest spots on earth was the garden of Shenstone, the poet. His writings have made but little impression on the world, but his garden, the ,r ,., . - , . "Leasowes,"w 11 be immortal To the natural advantages of that plac ! was brought the perfection rf art. Arbor ght the perfection and terra"e and slope and rustic tem ple and reservoir nnd urn and fountain here had their crowning. Oak and yew and hazel put forth their richest foliage. There was no life more dili gent, no toul more ingenious than that of Shenstone, and all that dili gence and genius he brought to the adornment of that one treasured spot. He gave 300 for it. He sold it for several thousand. And yet I am to tell you to-day of a richer garden than any I have mentioned. It is the garden spoken of in my text the garden of the church, which belongs to Christ, for my text says so. He bought it. He planted it, He owns it, and ne shall have it. Walter Scott, in his outlay at Abbotsford, ruined his fortune, and now, in the crimson flow ers of those gardens, you can almost think or imagine that you see the blood of that old man's broken heart. The payment of the last 100,000 sacrificed him. But I have to tell you thnt Christ's life and Christ's death were the outlay of this benutiful gar den of the church, of whlcu my text speaks. Oh, how many sighs and tears and pangs and agonies! Tell tne.ye women who saw Him hang! Tell me, ye executioners who lifted Him and let Him down! Tell me, thou sun that didst hide, ye rocks that fell! "Christ loved the church and gave Himself for it." If the garden of the church belongs to Christ, certainly He has a right to wnlk In it. Come, then, O blessed Jesus, to-day. Walk up and down these aisles and pluck what Thous wilt of sweetness for Thyself! The church In my text is appropri ately compared to a garden, because It Is a plnce of choice flowers, of se lect fruits and of thorough irrigation. But I have not told you of the most benutiful flower in all this gar den spoken of In the text. If you see a century plant, your emotions are started. You say: "Why, this flower has been a hundred years gathering ip for one bloom, and it will be a hundred years more before other petals will come out." But I have to tell you of a plant that was gather ing up from all eternity and that 1,900 years ago put forth its bloom never to wither. It is the passion plant of the cross. Prophets fore told it, Bethlehem shepherds looked upon it in the bud, the rocks shook at its bursting and the dead got up in their winding sheets to see its full bloom. It is a crimson flower blood at the roots, blood on the branches, blood on the leaves. Its perfume is to fill all the nations. Its breath Is Heaven. Come, oh, winds from the north and winds from the south and winds from the east and winds from the west, and bear to all the earth the sweet smelling savor of Christ, my Lord! His worth if all the nations knew, Euro the whole earth would love Him too. Again, the church may be appro priately compared to the garden, be cause it is a place of fruits, That would be a strange garden which had In it no berrie, no plums or peaches or apricots. The coarser fruits are planted in the orchnrd or they are set out on the sunny hillside. But the choicest fruits are kept in the gar den. So in the world outside the church Christ has planted a great many beautiful things patience, charity, generosity, integrity. But He intends Uie choicest fruit to be In the garden, and If they are not there then shame on the church. Religion is not a mere flowering sen timentality. It is a practical, life giving, Healthful fruit, not posies, but apples. "Oh," says somebody, "I don't see what your garden of the church has yielded!" Whero did your asylums come from? And your hospitals Anil your institutions of mercy? Christ planted eswry ono of them; He plunted them in His garden, When Christ gave sight to Bnrtimcus, He laid the cornerstone of every blind asylum that has ever , been built. When Christ soothed the demoniac of Galilee, He laid the cornerstone of every lunatic asylum that has ever been established. When Christ said to the sick man: "Take up thy bed and walk," He laid the cornerstone of every hospital the world has ever seen. When Christ said: "I was in prison and ye visited me," He laid the cornerstone of every prison reform association that hns ever been or ganized. The church of Christ is a glorious garden, and it is full of fruit. I know there is some poor fruit in it. I know there are some weeds that ought to be thrown over the fence. I know there are some crap apple trees that ought to be cut down. I know there are some wild grapes that ought to be uprooted, but are you going to destroy the whole garden because of a little gnarled fruit? You will find worm eaten leaves in Fontainebleau and insects that sting in the fairy groves of the Champs Elysccs. You do not tear down and destroy the whole garden because there arc a few specimens of gnarled fruit. I admit there are men and women in the church who ought not to be there, but let us be just as frank and admit the fnct that there are hun dreds and thousands nnd tens of thou sands of glorious Christian men and women holy, blessed, useful, conse crated and triumphant. There is no grander collection in all the earth than the collection of Christians. There are Christian men in every church whose religion is not a mat ter of psalm singing and church go ing. To-morrow morning that reli gion will keep them just as consist ent and consecrated in their worldly occupation as it ever kept them at the communion table. There are women with us to-day of a higher type of character than Mary of Beth i mil. J IH-J nun viujr ni u an lilt; jrr, 'f chriRt but th mlt jnt0 tfe L,tchpn to hp, Mart,m Jn her wofk ... ... ., ... m. ' any. I hey not only sit at the feet that she may sit there, too. There is a woman who has a drunken hus band who has exhibited more faith and patience and courage than Rid ley in the fire. He was consumed in 20 minutes. Hers has been a 20-years' martyrdom. Yonder is a man who has been 15 years on his back, unable to feed himself, yet calm and peace ful as though he lay on one of the green banks of Heaven, watching the oarsmen dip their paddles in the crys tal river! Why, it seems to me this moment ns if St. Paul threw to us a pomologist's catalogue of the fruits growing in this great garden of Christ love, joy, pence, patience, character, brotherly kindness, gentle ness, mercy; glorious fruit, enough to fill all the baskets of earth and Heaven I have not told you of the better tree in this gnrden and of the better fruit. It was plnntcd just outside Jerusalem a good while ago. When that tree was planted, it was so split and- bruised and barked men said nothing would ever grow upon it, but no sooner had that tree been planted than it budded and blossomed and fruited, and the soldiers' spears were only the clubs thnt struck down that fruit, and it fell into the lap of the nations, nnd men began to pick it up and eat it, and they found in it an antidote to all thirst, to all poison, to all sin, to all death; the smallest cluster lnrger than the famous one of Eshcol, which two men carried on a staff between them. If the one apple in Eden killed the race, this one cluster of mercy Sihall restore. Again, the church in my text is appropriately called a garden because it is thoroughly irrigated. No gar den could prosper long without plen ty of water. I have seen a garden in the midst of a desert, yet bloom ing and luxuriant. All around was dearth and barrenness, but there were pipes, aqueducts, reaching from this garden up to the mountains, and through these aqueducts the wa ter came streaming down and toss ing up into beautiful fountains until every root and leaf and flower was saturated. That is like the church. The church is a garden in the midst of a great desert of sin and suffering, but it is well irrigated, for "our eyes are unto the hills from whence com cth our help." From the mountains of God's "strength there flow down rivers of gladness. "There is a river the stream whereof shall make glad the city of our God." Freaching the Gospel Is one of the aqueducts. The Bible is another. Baptism and the Lord's Supper are aqueducts. Water to slake the thirst, water to wash the unclean, water tossed high up In the light of the Sun of Righteousness, showing "s the rainbow around the throne. Oh, was there ever a garden so thoroughly Irrigated? You know that the beauty of Versailles and Chatsworth depends very much upon the great supply or water., I came to the latter place, Chatsworth, one day when strangers are not to be ad mitted, but by an inducement which always seemed as potent with ai Englishman as an American I got in, and then the gardener went far up above the btairs of . stone and turned on the water. I saw it gleam ing on the dry pavement, coming down from step to step until it came so near I could hear the musical rush, and all over the high, broad stairs it eame, foaming, flashing, roarjng down until sunlight and wave In gleesome wrestle tumbled at my feet. So it is with the church of God. Everything cornea from above par don from above, joy from above, adop tion from above, sanctitleation from above. Would that now God would turn on the waters of salvation that they might flow down through His her itago and that this duy we might each find our places to bo "Elims" with 13 wells of water and threescore and ten palm trees. Hark! I hear the latch of the gnr den gate, and I look to see who is coming. I hear tho voice of Christ. "I am come into My garden." I say: "Come in, O Jesus! We have been waiting for Thee. Walk all through the paths. Look at the flowers; look at the fruit; pluck that which Thou wilt for Thyself." Jesus comes into the garden and up to that old man and touches him and says: "Almost home, father; not many more aches for thee. I will never leave thee. Take courage a little longer, nnd I will steady thy tottering steps, and I will soothe thy troubles and give v. thee rest. Courage, old man." Then Christ goes up another garden path; and He comes to a soul in trouble and says: 'Teace! All is well. I have seen thy tears. I have heard; thy prayer. The sun shall not smite thee by day nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil. lie will preserve thy soul. Courage, O troubled spirit!" Then I see Jesus going up another garden path, and I see great excite ment among the leaves, and I hnsten up to that garden path to see what Jesus is doing there, and, lo! He is breaking off flowers sharp and clejtn, from the stem, and I say: Stop, Jesus. Do not kill those beautiful flowers." He turns to me and saysi "I have come into My garden to gath er lilies, and I mean to take these up to a higher terrace for the garn around my palace, and there I will plant them, and in better soil nnd in better air they shall put forth bright er leaves and sweeter redolence, and) no frost shall touch them forever." And I looked up into His face nnd snid: "Well, it is Thy garden, and Thou hast a right to do what Thou wilt with it. Thy will be done!" the hardest prayer a man ever made. It has seemed as it Jesus Christ took the best. From many of your households the best one is gone. You know that she was too good for this world. She was the gentlest in her ways, the deepest n her affection, and when at last the sickness came you had no faith in medicines. You knew that the hour of parting had come, and when, through the rich grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, you surrendered that treasure you said: "Lord Jesus, take it. It is the best we hnve. Take it. Thou art worthy." The others in the household may have been of grosser mold. She was of the finest. I notice that the fine gardens some times have high fences around them, and I cannot get in. It is so with a king's garden. The only glimpse you ever get of such a garden is when the king rides out in his splendid car riage. It is not so with this garden, this King's garden. I throw wide open the gate and tell you all to come in. No monopoly in religion. Whosoever will mny. Choose now be tween a desert and a garden. Many of you have tried the garden of this world's delight, lou have lound it hns been a chagrin. So it was with Theodore Hook. He made all the world laugh. He makes us laugh now when we read his poems. But he could) not make his own heart laugh. While in the midst of his festivities he confronted a looking glnss, and he saw himself and said: "There, that is true. I look nst as I am done up in body, mind and purse. So it was of Shenstone, of whose gar den I told you at the beginning of my sermon. He sat down amid those bowers and said: "I have lost my road to happiness. I nm angry and envious and frantic and despise every thing around me just as it becomes a mndman to do." O ye weary souls, come Into Christ's garden to-day nnd pluck a little heartsease. Christ is the only rest and the only pardon for a perturbed spirit. Do you not think your chance has almost come? You men and women who have been waiting year after year for some good opportunity in which to accept Christ, but have postponed it 5, 10, 20, 30 years, do you not feel as if now your hour of deliverance and pardon and salvation had come? O man, what grudge hast thou against thy poor soul that thou wilt not let It be saved? Some years ago a vessel struck on the rocks. They had only one life boat. In that lifeboat the passengers and crew were getting ashore. The vessel had foundered and was sinking deeper and deeper, and that one boat could not take the passengers very swiftly. A little girl stood on the deck waiting for her turn to get Into the boat. The bont came and went, came and went, but her turn did not seem to come. After awhile she could wait no longer, and she leaped on the taffrail and then sprang into the sea, crying to the boatman: "Save me nextl Save me next!" Oh, bow many have gone ashore into God's mercy, and yet you are clinging to the wreck of sin! Others have ac cepted the pardon of Christ, but you are in peril. Why not this moment make a rush for your immortal rescue, crying until Jesus shall hear you and Heaven and earth ring with the cry: "Save me next! Sve ma next!" Now is the day of salvation! Now! Now! A cod weighing 1 pounds lays Dean ly 7,000,000 egga. 4 ft 1 n f N 'i1 "K-rii.t' """f"'? - -..v" J'