The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, October 17, 1901, Image 8

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    THE WAY OF DESTRUCTION
Dr. Talmage Tells of the Pitfalls for the
Unwary ia the Great Cities.
——————————
The Third Watch of the Night—A Drama
{Copyright, 101, , N
Wasuixerox, D. C.—In thm Mscourse
Dr. Talmage describes some of the scenes
to be witnessed late at night in the great
cities and warns the unwary of many
perils; text, Isaiah xxi, 11, “Watchman,
what of the night?”
When night came down on Babylon,
Nineveh and Jerusalem, they needed
careful watching, otherwise the incen-
diary’s torch might have been thrust into
the very heart of the metropolitan splen-
dor, or enemies, marching from the hilla,
might have forced the gates. All night
long, on top of the wall and in front of
the gates, might be heard the measured
step of the watchman on his solitary beat;
silence hung in air, save as some passer-
by raised the question, “Watchman, what
of the night?’
It is to me a deeply suggestive and sol-
emn thing to see a man standing guard
by night. It thrilled throngh me as at
the gate of an arsenal in Charleston the
question once smote me. “Who comes
there” followed by the sharp command,
“Advance and give the countersign.”
Everv moral teacher stands on vicket or
patrols the wall as watchman. His work
is to sound the alarm, and whether it be
in the first watch, in the second watch,
in the third watch or in the fourth watch
to be vigilant until the davbreak flings its
“morning glories” of blooming cloud
across the trellis of the sky.
The ancients divided their night into
four parts—the first watch from 6 to 8,
the second from 9 to 12, the third from
12 to 3 and the fourth from 3 to 6. I
speak now of the eity in the third watch,
or from 12 to 3 o'clock.
I never weary of looking upon the life
of the city in the first watch. That is the
hour when the stores are closing. The
laboring men. having quitted the scaf
folding and the shop, are on their way
home. It rejoices me to give them my
seat in the city car. They have stood
and hammered away all day. Their feet
are weary. Thev are exhausted with the
tug of work. Thev are mostly cheerinl.
With appetites sharnened on the swift
turner's wheel and the carpenter's whet.
stone they seek: the evening meal. The
clerks. too. have broken away from the
connter rnd with brain weary of the long
line of fiernres, and the whims of those
who go a-shopping seek the face of moth-
er or wife and child. The streets are
thronged with young men setting out
from the great centres of bargain mak-
ing. Det idlers clear the street and give
right of way te the besweated artisans
and merchants! They have earned their
bread and are now on their way home
to get it. The lights in full jet hang
over 10.000 evening reoasts—the parent
at either end of the tahle. the child
between. Thank Gad, “who setteth
soiitary in families!”
A few hourz later and all
amusement, good and bad, are i
Lovers of art. cata u
through the ealler
tures
the rich
side of the
the signal from
halls are lifted
the warble of one
on a sea of tum
blast of brazen instruments.
rooms are filled with Tr
apvarel, with all ind,
with all splendor of manner. Mirrors a
catching up and multiplying the scene un-
1 a & YE
tii it seems as if In
the nlaces
ail
sweeliness
thousar on
The dashing span.
the foam of the long country ride,
past as vou halt at the curbsione
reveiry, beauty, fashion.
minele in the great metropo
until thinking man ¢
think more seriously
man to pray n
and overwhelming
the first and second watrhes of th
But the elock strikes 12. and th
watch has begun. The thunder !
city has rolled out of the air. The slight-
eat sounds cut the night with such
tinciness as te attract vour attention.
The tinkling of the hell of the street car
in the distance and the baving
The stamp of a horas in the next sireet
The slamming of a saloon dagr. The hb
cangh of : The shrieks
the
how sueg
watch of th
What
city at rest!
tomorrow's toi}
off. Rigid
nerves soothed.
octogenarian 1a i
pillow, fresh fail of flakes on
ready fallen Childhood. with
pled hands thrown out on the pillow i
with every breath taking in a new store
of fun and frolic. Third watch of
night! God's siumberless eve will look
Let one great wave of refreshing slumber
roll over the heart of the great town
merging care and anxiety and worriment
and pain. Let the rity sleen.
But, my friends. be not deceived. There
will be to-night thousands who will not
sleep at all. Go up that dark alley, snd
cautious where you tread lest you fall
over the prostrate form of a drunkard
lying on his own doorstep. Look about
you, lest vou feel the garroter’s hug. Look
through the broken window pane and
see what you can sec. You sav, “Noth-
ing.” Then listen. What is it? “God
help us!” No footlights, but tragedy
ghastlier and mightier than Ristori or
Edwin Booth ever enacted. No light.
no fire. no bread. no hope. Shivering in
the cold. they have had no food for twen-
ty-fonr hours. You say, “Why don’t they
beg?’ Thew do. but they get nothing.
You say, “Why don’t they deliver them.
selves over to the almshouse?” Ah, vou
would not ask that if you ever heard the
hitter cry of a man or a child when told
he must go to the almshouse. “Oh,” you
say, “they are vicious poor, and therefore
they do not deserve our sympathy!” Are
they vicious? So much more need they
your pity. The Christian poor. God helps
them.
{ Pose on through the alley. Open the
deor. Oh,” you say, “it is locked!” No,
It har never been locked.
the
e £ arnestly
thing i»
fgg
of the dog.
ate
sengy con
Ex
¢ brain
)
muscles ed
The
hair
thin ae
she
it is not locked.
No burglar would be tempted to go in
there to steal anything. The door is
never locked. Only a broken chair
stands inst the door. Shove it back.
Go in. Strike a match, Now look. Beast
liness and rags. those glaring eve
balls. Be careful now what you say.
nos utter any insult, do not utter any sus.
picion, if you walue your life, hat is
that red mark on the wall? It is the
mark of a murderer's hand! Took at
those two eyes rising up out of the dark.
ness and out from the straw in the corner,
coming toward you, and as they come
near you your light goes ont, Strike an-
other match. , this is a babe, not like
those beautiful children presented in
baptism. is little one never smiled. It
never will smile. A flower flung on an
awfully barren beach. O Heavenly Shep:
d, fold that little one in Thy arms!
rap around you Sou shawl or your coat
lighter, for the cold wind sweeps through.
trike another match. Ab, is it possi-
Die that the searved and tad face of
young woman ever was lool nto
: ma ther no scorn;
a No ray of hope
oo.
dawned on that brow for many a
No rav of hope ever will dawn on
that brow, But the light has gone ont.
Do not strike another light. It would be
a mockery to kindle another light in such
a place as that, Pass out and pass down
the street. :
Do vou know it is in this third watch
of the night that eriminals do their worst
work? It is the eriminale’ watch, At
half past 8 o'clock you will find them in
the drinking saloon, but toward 12 o'clock
they go to their garrets, they get out
their tools, then they start on the street,
Watching on either side for the police,
they go to their work of darkness. Chis
is a burglar, and the false key will soon
touch the store lock; this is an incendi-
arv. and before morning there will he a
licht on the sky and a ery of “Fire! Fire!”
This is an assassin, and to-morrow morn.
ing there will be a dead body in one of
the vacant lots. :
During the daytime these villaing in our
cities lonnge about. some asleep and some
awnke, bunt when the third watch of the
night arrives, their eve keen, their brain
cool, their arm strong, their foot fleet to
flv or pursue. they are ready. Many of
these poor tures were brought up m
that way i «ev were born in a thieves
garret. Their childish tov was a bur
glar's dark lantern. The first thing they
remember was their mother handaging
the brow of their father. struck by the
police club, They began by robbing hove’
pockets. and now they have rome to dig
the nundergronnd passage to the cellar of
the bank and are preparing to blast the
gold vault. :
Just =o long as there are negiected chil
dren of the street, just eo long we will
have these desperadoes. Some one, wish-
ing to make a good Christian point and
to quote a passage of Scripture, expecting
to get a Serintural PAsSSRge in Answer, sa A
to one of these poor lade, cast ont and
wretched, “When your father and vour
mother forsake vou, who, then, will take
vou np?’ And the boy said, “The per
lice!”
I reivice before God that never are
svmpathetic words nttered, never a nrayer
offered, never a Christian almsaiving in-
dulged in but it is blessed. There 15 a
place in Switzerland, 1 have been told.
where the utterance of one word will
bring back a score of echoes, and I have
to tell yon that a sympathetic word, a
kind word, a generous word, a helpful
word, uttered in the dark places of the
town will bring back 10,000 echoes from
heaven.
I eould give yon the history in a minute
of one of the best friends I ever had.
Outside of my own family I never had a
hetter friend. He welcomed me to mv
home at the West. He was of splendid
has
year,
of soul! and a warmth of affection that
made me love him like a brother. I saw
men coming out of the saloons and gamb-
ling hells, and they surrounded my friend,
and they took him at the weak noint—his
gocial natore—and I saw him going down,
I had a fair talk witl
never vet saw a man vou of
with on the subject of his habit
talked with him in the right
said to him, “Why don't vou give up vour
bad habits and become a Christian? 1
remember now jnst how he lonked
aver his counter, as he renlied, “1 wish
i Oh, I should like to be a
ave gone so far astray
So the time went on.
and
v of » ness came
ickbhed. 1 ha
» the Lord who made it
Arrangements were made for the ohse-
auies. The question was raise
they should bring him to ¢ church.
Somebody said, “You cannot bring such
a dissolute man as that into the church ”
I said: “You will bring him in church
He stood by me when he was alive, and I
will stand by him when he is dead. Bring
him.” As I stood in the pulpit and saw
them earrving the body up the aisle |
felt as if I enuld weep tears of blood. On
one side of the pulpit sat his little child
£ eight vears, a beautiful little
that 1 had seen him hug convulsivelv
his better
sd whether
he
}
sweet,
58
*
moments
=
jewels and gave her all pictures and
ove, and then he would go away, as if
minded by an evil spirit, to his enps and
ase of iniquity, a fool to the cor.
n of the stocks. She looked up won
ngly: she knew not what it all meant:
was not old enough to understand
the sorrow of an orphan. On the other
side sat the men who ruined him. They
were the men who had poured the worm-
yd into the orphan’s eup; they were
men who had bound him hand and
I knew them. How did they seem
to feel? Did they weep? No. Did they
- 5
ahe
fool.
man should be destroyed!” No.
high repentingly over what they had done?
N02
they have ripped out.
looked at the coffin lid, and I told them
had destroyed their fellows. Did they
reform? 1 was told they were in the
lnces of iniquity that night after my
riend was laid in Oakwood cemetery, and
they blasphemed and they drank. Oh,
how merciless men are, especially after
they have destroyed you! Do not look
to men for comfort or help,
But there is a man who will not re-
form. He says, “I won't reform.” Well,
then, how many acts are there in a
tragedy? 1 believe there are five acts in
a tragedy.
Act the first of the tragedy: A youn
man starting off from home; parents an
sisters weeping to have him go; w
rising over the hill; farewell kiss
pigs Ring the bell and let the curtain
aid
Act the second: The sarviage altar;
full organ, bright lights; long white veil
trailing through the aisle; prayer and con
Sfatiiation and exclamation of "How well
she looks!”
Ast the third: A woman waiting for
wt ‘ring steps; old garments struck into
the broken window pane; marks of hard:
ship on the face; the biting of the nails
of bloodless fingers; neglect and eruelty
and despair. Ring the bell and let the
curtain drop.
Act the fourth: Three
pa ve of the child that died for
ack of cine, grave of the wife that
died of sn broken heart, grave the
man that died of dissipation. Oh, what
a ted heath with three graves! Plent,
of weeds, but no flowers. Ring the bell
and let the n drop.
Act the fifth: A destroyed soul's etern-
ity; no light, no music; blackness of dark-
ness forever, But I cannot look any long
of a mt Bl
ves in a dark
to
quick!
curtain drop,
shan, in thy youth, and
let thy ee in the days of thy
youth, but know thou that for these
to a
for all
things God will bri t
Cha
man, but the end is death.”
No Tick Here,
“No doubt you see that I am one of
the diffident men,” observed the drum
mer, “one of the sort who don’t com-
pare watches with the town clock and
tell everybody for a block around that
the clock is seven minutes off. 1 was
up in a Massachusetts town a few
weeks ago and 1 had to make a certain
train or lose a $1000 order. I looked at
my watch and in a furtive way com-
pared it with the town clock. It looked
to me as if there wus a big difference be-
tween the two, but I decided to go by
the clock. 1 went into three or four
places, loafed around and was killing
time when an acquaintance came along
and said:
that 2.30 train?
“Yes, I am,’ 1 replied.
* ‘When?’
* “This afternoon, of course.’
“ ‘By what time?
“‘By your town clock. I've got half
an hour yet.’
“Oh, you have?’ he laughed. ‘Well,
let me tell you that our clock hasn't
ter.”
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