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INTERNATIONAL LESSONS.
Fourth Quarter.
■T SB*. HEXBT M. OBOI'T, D. B.
DKCEMIIKK 11.
Losaon 11.
Tho Last Days of Mosoa.
DBCTBSOJiost 32 Mt—fii
Ooutss TtxrSo t*ch tu to uumtwr our ilajrc,
ht we nujf apply our ht-sru tint# —PttJim*
00 :12.
Central Truth : —The severity and
goodness of God.
The Israelites are still on the cast
side of Jordon, where the children of
Reuben and Gad and half the tribe of
Manasseh have now already been as
signed their portion of the promised
inheritance. The rest are soon to
pass over to the good land beyond.
Aud a good land it was. Toward it
their eves had often turned with long
ing ami hope. It is easy to believe
that now there was exulting in many
breasts. And yet tin ir joy had ii*ud
mixture of sorrow. One of their num
ber was to be left behind. Their ac
tual entrance upon the promised land
was to be preceded by the death of
their leader. On one memorable occa
sion Moses had sinned u sin, the pen
alty of which was that, though he
might be permitted to see the land, he
could never enter it. To them he
must now bid farewell.
The end of any wise and good man
might be a profitable as well as iutcr
estingstudy. It will certainly do us
good to tract; some of the last things
in the earthly life of such a mail as
Moses.
1. We here get a glimpse of his last
work. It is not an uncommon thing
to find one's ruling pa-dun strong in
death. I'ride, avarice and unibition
do not relax their grasp as worldly
and selfish men grow old and approach
the end. The life of Moses hud been
one of disinterested devotion to the
welfare of God's people. For their
sakes he surrendered the richis of
Egypt, endured the hardships of the
wilderness wanderings, nmi gave up
every merely personal interest. It i
said he "was very meek;" but the word
so rendered rather signifies "much-en
during," or "disinterested." This was
his spirit, aud this was his work. And
he was deep in this work to the very
last. He is teaching and admonish
ing the people ; not planning and do
ing for himself. Who would not pre
fer to be fouud by the Messenger of
Death in the midst of such work ?
Our Saviour said : "Blessed is that
servant whom his lord, when he Mu,-
eth, shall find so doing." *
2. We have here the record of his
la*t counsel. A man's last words are !
likely to be sober and sincere. He may
be trusted in the face of death to speak j
his deepest thought. Moses had seen
more than have most men of any age
of every side of life. He iiad lived in
a palace and in the desert. He had
known what it was to enjoy luxury
and wealth. He xvas learned in the
best human wisdom. He kuew every
side of this world ; lie understood the
human heart; he had studied the ways
of providence; he had great acquain
tance with God. Just now he has
been rehearsing to them the laws of
God; and has added to words of religi
ous instruction and admonition a
"great prophetic hymn," setting forth
the perfections nnd luithfulue.-s* of
God. And what is bis very last coun
sel? It is that the people should "set
their hearts" upon these things, that is
should give them serious and habitual
attention. Moreover they are to "com
mend their children to observe them,"
accounting this to be the very best lega
cy one can leave behind to those he
loves. And they are to do all this a
a matter of the most serious conse
quence —a matter of death and life, of
earthly profit as well as divine favor:
"It is not a vain thing; it is your
life!" It is well worth noiiug that
this is the final and soberest judgment
of a wise and great and good man.
3. Further on we learn something
of his Uut ejrpcrienrr with tin. The
testimony to the obedience and faith
fulness of Moses, in both the Old Tes
tament and the New, is very remark
able. He is "the man of God."
"There arose not a prophet in Israel
like unto Moses whom the Lord kunn
face to face." "Moses verily wax faith
ful." But he was no exception to the
saying that "Ail have sinned." Just
what his sin was is not made entirely
clear in the record of it. It was a sin
of mingled pride, unbelief and tiosuh
mission (Numbers 20:10-12.) It was
confessed, and no doubt forgiven.
Many years had elapsed since it was
committed. But now the noteworthy
thing is that it meets him again ou his
dying day. He has not yet done with
iU effects. It keeps him out of tho
promised land, lie has prayed that
God will so far forget it as to suffer
him to accompany the people he loves
to the place of their final victories and
rest: "I pray thee, let me go over and
see the good land that is beyond Jor
dan, that goodly mountain and Leba
non," But God does not bear the re
quett. Tber • L something touching
in all this. Mose* was great in prayer;
his intensions often prevailed lor oth
er<t; but they did not save him from the
loss of privilege and opportunity,
which came of bis one sin. On his dy
ing <!ay he is reminded that on account
of it God was wroth with him. In all
this there is stern severity. And our
God is thus seen to be a stern God,
even in his dealings with his own chil
dren. What it' all our sins should be
set before us in our dying hour?
Could we endure the sight? What if
we should not only see them, but
have to think of them as unforgiven ?
4. The lesson gives us an intimation
of bis hut support and cheer. It was
needful for others' sakes that God
should deal sternly with his servant.
Nevertheless he regards him as a true
servant, and mingles great goodness
with the severity. In the lost verse of
our lesson is the promise that, from the
mountain's summit, he shall see the
goodly heritage. And, two chapters
further on, we find the promise fullfil
ed. God is with him in the Mount.
And there he grants to him a vision of
all the land, makes for him a grave,
and, possibly by angel hands, buries
him in a valley. In all this there are
indications of great tenderness.
Doubtless, Moses was made to see that
not only was his sin forgiven, but God
had provided some better things for
him than hud entered his thought, llis
land of promise was larger, fairer, more
glorious, than that which lay bask
ing at his feet. lie had dreamt a
d ream of Canaan, and his God took
him where alone such dreams could be
fulfilled. We may be assured that his
spirit rejoiced when the summons
came, as the mature and holy are
glad when they catch the tread of the
angel of death." But this was not
all. Was not Moses' prayer to be per
mitted to euter the promised land lit
erally and gloriously answered when,
ages after, he stood with Christ on the
Mount of Transfiguration?
PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS.
1. It is worth noticing that, among
the very last things Moses did, was to
erive to the people an inspiring song.
Impressions thus conveyed are deep
an<l lasting. The poetry we love uud
the songs we sing have ranch to do
with the characters we form.
2. The work of good men must
have its end, hut happily their teach
ings and example often long remain.
.'5. The truths, precepts and prom
ises of God are of beuefit to those
only who give them earnest, believing
and loving attention.
4. Moses would have the parent
"command" his child, if need be, in
the way of God's commandments,
kindly of course, and yet firmly.
Was he wrong? The parent com
mands in secular things, why not in
those of more importance ?
To "observe to do," and not to
observe merely to know, is the proper
end of nil moral instruction. The
child's knowing and doing should go
along together, otherwise he forms the
often falul habit of deliberate trifling
with known truth and duty.
b. We have not done with sin when
it Mt-onunittcd, nor yet when it is
seeoungly out of tnind. It lurks in
lli'-raemory. It will return upon us
W*u the memory will be most painful.
7. Even forgiveness docs not give us
hark lost opportunities, nor (!•* it
cancel the ill effects of sin,
8. In dealings with his penitent and
helieviug children, God mingles good
ness with severity ; judgments are
made to serve purposes of discipline ;
he liii (fifties and refiucs by disappoint
ment and pain; then, when the work
of purifying is all done, he grants
visions of beauty and delight. Best
of all, he translates the perfected
spirit to that fairer Canaan which is
above.
A Telfgraph Slorj.
Mr. W. 8. Johnson, the author of
"Telegraph Tales," is responsible for
the following : "In the winter of 1870-
71, one of the operators in the West
ern Union office at Huston had sn epi
leptic fit. II is medical attendant spoke
to hiiti, chafed him, and made every
effort to amuse him but in vain. Sub
sequently one of his fellow operators
drew a chair up to the bed and took
the patient's hand in his. As he did
so he noticed a feeble pressure by the
fingers, which pressure presently resol
ved itself tuto doubts and dashes, faint
ly communicating to the tactile sense
the words, "W-h-a-t d-o-c-t-o-r #-a-y
a-bo-u-t m-e?" Asked whether be could
hear what was said to him, the patient
signified assent by a slight motion
with the tips of his fingers, and the re
sult was that bis fellow operator got
from the patient enough dots and
dashes to describe his feelings to the
physician, who was thus enabled to ap
ply the necessary remedies. It is cer
tain that no other method of commu
nicating was possible uoder the cir
cumstances, since the sufferer from
epilepsy, although he could hear, could
ucithcr apeak nor move any of bis
muscles, except those situated iu the
digital extremities, and these only
with the faintest requisite iu electric
Tin; overshadowing sise and strength
of Prussia as compared with the other
Htafx that compose the confederacy of
the German Empire, are shown by the
recent budget* submitted to the hede
ral Counnirin relation to the imperial
army. The total standing force is
427,274 soldiers and non-commission
ed officers, and 18,134 commissioned,
officers. Of these the several Htales
have as follows: Soldier and non-com
missaoned officers, Prussia, 330,6211;
Bavaria, 60,224; Wurtemburg, 18,816
and Baxony, 27,006; commissioned of
ficer#, Prussia, 14,008; Bavaria, 2,216;
Baqony, 1,187; Wurtemberg, 773.
A NEW SORT OF SOUTHERNER.
In Virginia politic# it is refreshing
to find such a speech a# the following,
mode by Hon. G'hnrle# W. William#,
at a railroad meeting where all the
magnate# of the North were assembled.
It shows a rnau of genius, up to the
demand# of the times :
Z Air. I*reident and Gentlemen: While
I um flattered at being called upou to
represent my native city on such an oc
casion as this, and while I feci all of
the regard and affection for Richmond
and her people which it i# possible for
any of her son# to feel, 1 trust I am ca
pable of seeing aud feeling as a cosmo
politan. My grandfather murchcd to
Massachusetts with the first battalion
of Virginia troops during the war of
the Revolution. I married the daugh
ter of a gentleman from Muinc aud
a lady from Massachusetts. I have
friends every where in this country. I
feel impelled, therefore, by naturul in
stinct, by family tradition aud domes
tic association, to claim my citizenship
not only within the confines of Rich
inond, but throughout this great coun
try —my country, as it i# yours. I
confess that I have not always breath
ed #o catholic a spirit. 1 have enter
tained all the prejudices of a Virgin
ian, but I have had them one by one
removed upon the reflection suggested
by observation of other places and peo
ple. A line of thought was suggested
to me some years ago bv a visit to the
Northwest, from which I deduced con
elusions which should give encourage
ment not only to Virginians, but to
you gentlemen from the North who
have embarked your capital here. No
doubt vou wish your investment to pay,
and while I am neither a prophet nor
the son of a prophet, 1 venture the pre
diction that it will. Reflect, gentle
men, that one hundred year# ago the
whole population of thi# country was
less thau 8,000,000. Now it i# over
50,000,000. With any thing like a na
tural ratio of increase, what numbers
will inhabit these hills and vallies in
a few years? The increase in popula
tion in Virginia has not kept pace
with other Btatesof the North ami the
West heretofore, hut in future it will.
At the organization of the Government
of Virgiuia wa# among the foremost in
wealth and population, but unfortu
nately he failed to retain her position.
Why ? Because she ha* contributed
largely of her popalation and brain#
and energy to the great West and
North. Go where you will among the
busy and industrious in thi# country,
ami among the foremost men you find
Virginians or Virginians' sou# who
have gone elsewhere to seek tbeir for
tune#. There was a reason why they
did so, but that reason no longer exists.
In the day# of slavery the planter who
owned hi# 600 or 1,000 acre# and his
fifteefr, or twenty slaves, and had a
family of five or six boys, wa# at a loss
what to da' with them. After making
a doctor of one, a preacher of another
and a lawyer of a third, perhaps occa
sionally a mnrchant was developed
from the fourth. The rest had to em
igrate ; there wa# no place in our econ
omy for them. The planter owned his
blacksmith, his car|>enter, hi# wheel
wright, hi# bricklayer; in short, all of
the great field of labor wa# fillet! by
the slave, which at the North gives
employment and profit to your labor
ing classes. The overseer class, and
the other men of Virginia who had not
the wealth of the planter, but who had
their familes of sons to provide for,
were at this further disadvantage, that
they could not provide the necessary
education to make lawyer#, doctors,
and preacher# even of a part of them,
so all had to leave the Btate. But,
gentlemen, all is now changed. We
have a Btate abounding in all of the
resources which capital and labor
united most develope into enormous
wealth. You and many other citizen#
of the North and West bring your ca
pital here, and invite our voung men
men to stay at home, and they will
stay, because they see employment be
fore them, and have something to look
forward to in the profits of their indus
try. In the name not only of - Rich
mond, but in the name of Virginia,
and especially on behalf of the labor
ing classes of this Btate, I extend you
a cordial welcome. It is as sincere as
our declaration made in 1861, when
you came with arm# in your hand#,
and we promised you hospitable graves.
I appeal to the efforts made in the war
to make good that declaration as a
guarantee of the earnestness and hon
esty with which we now oiler yon our
hands and a place in our hearts.
TRACKKBT's house in Kensington
Palace Gardens, London, has just been
sold. This fine mansion possesses more
than the interest which ordinarily at
taches to the dwelling places of distin
guished men, for it was not only lived
in, but built, by Thackery. It is of
red brick, and, as befitted the limner
of Queen Anne manners, is built in the
style which has been so generously na
med after that monarch. The house is
leasehold under ihe crown, and the
ground rent amounts to £125 per an
num. Until recently it was occupied
by Mr. Joseph Bravo, the father of the
victim of the Balhara tragedy.
THK key that winds up many a
man's business is whiskey.
A HIUNIFICANT ADMISSION.
A rRZB RELIGIONIST AfIANOONB lII# PREACH
ING.
MR. rROTHINGUAM ON CURIBTIANITV.
S. y. Indepoiidfut.
The Rev. (). 11. Frothinghatn wo#
for a long while the leading represen
tative in thi# country of free religiou#
thought and for year# the president of
the Free Religiou# Association. Two
year# ago he resigned hi# pastorate in
this city and weut to Europe. .Since
hi# return he has been residing in Bos
ton, engaged in literary work and does
not intend to go hack to the pulpit.
The Evening I'out publishes a remar
kable interview with him, which show#
that he recognize# the growing strength
of Christian faith in the world, and
i# himself retreating from hi# radical
ground.
We give briefly an abstract of Mr.
Frothinghain'# views. After speaking
of the personal kindness he met from
several evengelica) preachers, he says
that hi# work here as a preacher was
full of discouragements, lie could see
that he was doing good to a large con
gregation of intelligent men, in show
ing thein how a man could do without
some of the beliefs often held essential
to righ living ; hut he could not see
that any successors were rising to take
his place. Mr. Chad wick might he
mentioned, hut hi# apjx-ar# to be a neg
ative faith, with which he has no sym
pathy. Then he found that, a# a radi
cal lecturer, he wa* brought into re
lations with radicals whose nonsense
he despised. The free-thought lea
ders wero destroyers, not builders.
They were running iuto a dead mate
rialism which he abhorred, aud there
was no limit to their destructive mania.
At the same time, "Evangelical relig
ion was stronger, the churches were
better filled, there was more of the re
ligious spirit abroad," than when be
began his work, twenty year# before.
Here we quote an important para
graph, which perfectly accords with
our own observation :
"As to the fact that revealed relig
ion, as we called it, is stronger to-day
than it was twenty years ago I have
no doubt. It i# stronger here and in
Europe, notwithstanding the much
talked-of German materialism; and
! the religion of to-day is all the strong
ior than that of twenty years ago,
in that it is throwing of the Mere
| lions of ignorance nnd present*
: fewer feature* incompatible with go<#l
< sense and charity, Looking back
| over the last tweoty years, no careful
| student of such matters can deny thi*
i healthful prow*#, and 1, who have
I stood aloof from all revealed religion
; during that time, cauoot but acknowl
edge that its opponent* have made no
headway whatever." There has been
thi# amelioration in Orthodoxy, let
who will deny it; and with it we have
been in the fullest sympathy, holding
in constant view the end of making
revealed religion the stronger by the
operation.
But Mr. Frothingbam goes on to
speak of hit own personal convictions,
lie says that he could not now consei.
entiously take up the work he laid
down. He confesses that he is becom
ing more conservative in faith or, at
U-ast, less assured to his radicalism.
He say#:
"1 am unsettled in my own mind
concerning matters about which 1 wn
not in doubt ten or even five years ago,
hut I doubt more. And yet Ido not
know that I regret my past work here,
for there is much that needs to be re
formed about all systems of revealed
religion, even admitting the founda
tion to be sound. Poisonous vims and
parasites need to be torn away from
the trunk of truth. Neither would I
say 'stop' to the scientist bent on prob
ing religion to the core. Truth cau
do no harm. But looking back over
the the history of the last ceutu
ry, with the conviction that no head
way whatever has been made, with the
convictiou that unbridled free thought
only leads tea dreary negation, called
materialism, there has been a growing
suspirion in me that there might be
somethitig behind or below what we
call revealed religion of which the
scientific thinkers of our time are be
ginning vaguely to distinguish as an
influence that caonot be accounted for
at present, but which, nevertheless,
exists. I said a moment ago let sci
entific investigation go on, by all
means. Not only it can do no harm,
but I am sure that the further it goes
the more clearly will scientific men re
cognise a power not yet defined, but
distinctly felt by some of the ablest of
them. This question has presented
itself to me many times in the last few
years. What is the power behind
these ignorant men who find dignity
and comfort in religion t Last sum
mer, when in Rome, I was much in
terested in observing the behavior of
the Roman clergy. Not the men high
in power and steeped in diplomacy and
intrigue, hut the working men of the
church —the pariah priests, who went
about among the people as spiritual
helpers and almoner*. I talked with
many of these men, and found them
to be ignorant, unambitious, and su
perstitions; and yet there was a pow
er behind them which must mystify
philosophers. What is this power ? 1
cannot undertake to my; but it is there,
and it may be that thorn person# who
deny the essential truths of revealed
religion are all wrong. At any rate,
I, for one, do not care to go on deny
ing the existence of such a force.
"To my old friends and followers,
who may feel grieved at such an ad
miassion on my part, I would say that
' I am no more a bolicver&in revealed
religion to <lav than I wus ten yearn |
ago; but, a* I wid before, I have
doubt* which I had not then. The
creed# of to-day do not seem id my eye#
to be so wholly groundless a# they
were then, and while I believe that
the next hundred year# will *ee great
changes in them, I do not think that
they are destined to disappear. To
#um up the whole matter, the work
which I have been doing appear* to
lead to uotbiug and may have been
grounded upou mistaken premise*.
Therefore, it is better to stop ; but I
do not want to give the impression
that I recant anything. I simply stop
denying and w.it for more light."
Thi# i# a very weighty testimony.
We do not feel any deire to exult
over Mr. Frothingham's confession of
failure and doubt. We would only
call attention to the two thing# which
have begun to convince this learned
religiou# philosopher that hi* life
work may have been in great part a
mistake. The ooc i# the fact that the
tendency of free religion i# downward.
It# drift i# toward an abhorrent, dead
materialism, which uplift# no life, it*
owu leader being witness. The other
evidence which ha# moved him is the
power residing in humble Christian
life, especially a* he hn# #een it in
unamhitou* Human parish priests. Thi*
testimony delight# u#, and all the more
a* it goe# to the credit of a Christian
body with which we are not connected.
If revealed Christianity ha# any pow
er, it ought to show itself just here, in
Christian life ; and thi* ought to be
the strongest proof that Christ i# in
the Chuich of a truth.
I.jmnn llcfrhcr'n Wife.
Lyman IJoechcr wn* impetuous,
positive, and at limes impatient of re
straint. He governed liis house by
| rigid rules, hi* wife by a judicious and
wi*e love. Her husband says: "I
! scarcely ever saw her agitated to tears.
I Once, soon after we had moved into
J our now bouse (at Last Hampton) th"
two pigs did something that vexed
me; I got angry and thraeed them.
She came to the door and interposed,
j The fire hadn't got out. I said quick-
I ly, 'Go along iu !' Bhc started, but
hadn't more than time to turn before
| I was at her side and threw my arms
around her neck and kissed her, and
told her I wa sorry. Then she wept."
"1 do not think I shall be with you
long." she said one day to her hus
band. Hix weeks later her saying
proved true. Kight little children
wept amund her death bod, as their
father gave her back to God. Then
came a season of great emptiness and
gloom, for the chief light of the par
sonage had gone out. The hudiand
felt the terror of "a child suddenly
shut out aloue in the dark." He had
ulnar* regarded her intellectually and
morally hi# superior. The smaller
children realized their loss. Henry
Ward, with his golden curl# and little
black frock, frolicked, like a kitten in
the sun, in ignorant joy. Many were
the curious <picsti>>ns the litte ones
asked about their departed mother,
Thcv were told that she was laid in
the ground ; that she had gone to hea
ven. One morning Henry was found
with great zeal iu the earth un
der his sister Catharine's window.
What are you doing ? he wa asked.
"Wy, I'm going to heaven to find ma,"
said he, thinking that the way mother
weut was through the earth in which
she had been laid.
In due time a second mother was
brought into the parsonage in the per
son ot Miss Harriet Porter, a cousin
of the first one. Mrs. Stone says;
"1 was about six years obi, and
slept in the nursery with two younger
brothers. We kuew that father had
gone somewhere on a journey, and
therefore the sound of a bustle or dis
turbance in the house more easily
awoke us. We heard father's voice
iu the entry and started up in our lit
tle beds, crying out as be entered our
room, 'Why here's pa!' A cheerful
voice called out from behind him,
'And here's ma !' A beautiful lady,
very fair, with bright blue eyes, and
soft auburn hair, hound round with a
black velvet bandeau, came into the
room, smiliug, eager, and happv, look
ing, and coming to our beds, kissed us
and told us that she loved little chil
dren, and that she would be our moth
er. Never did mother-in-law make a
happier or sweeter impression. She
seemed to us so fair, so delicate, so ele
gant that we were almost afraid to go
near her. We must have lieen rough,
red cheeked, country children, honest,
obedient and bashful. I remember I
used to feel breezy, rough, and rude in
her presence."
The new mother entered her new
home with mingled feelings of pleasure
and solicitude. Bho had never seen
so inaov rosv r.beeks and laughing
eves. The little ones were in great
glee, save the oldest, Catharine, who
was moved to tears. They soon learn
ed to love hrr tenderly. The Litch
field people were all on tiptoe to see
the minister's new wife. When she
came to church the following Sunday,
•he says:
"I felt some agitation on entering
the door to see every body seated, and
had I known all, Idon't know but I
should have fallen down in the way.
for William says the people all turned
rouod, and the scholars and ail In the
galleries rose up."
You can't cut yonr corns with a bi
cycle.—Boston Bulletin. No; but you
can bark your shins and bruise your
corn, and that hurts as bad as cut
ting it. '
' *<•>
THE nOCXCiXO BlttO*.
From Bismarch comes the story that
the passengers on a recent train from
Yellowstone had an experience exceed*
ingly ran-. When about two miles
from Hentiiipl Butte, the dividing line
between Montana and Dakota, a herd
of sixteen buffalo were seen a abort dis
tance ahead, within easy rifle range.
There were several soldiers ou board
with army rifles, and numerous small
revolvers were also pointed at the ex
cited bison. A |erfect volley of lead
was poured into the herd, but to no ef
fect. They bounded away over the
divide, and were soon out of sight. The
passenger* had no sooner begun a dis
cussion of what they had seen in years
gone by than a danger signal from the
locomotive brought every one to the
lookout. A herd of twenty or thirty
buffaloes were making directly for the
train, and, fearing the engine would
strike them and te thrown from the
track, the air brakes were set aud the
train nearly brought to a standstill,
while the buffalo crossed the track a
few feet ahead. Kvery gun was agaiu
leveled. Kueh excitement cannot be
described. Bullets flew in every direc
tion, some striking the ground a* near
as ten feet from the train, others rais
ing the dust a mile distant The train
moved on slowly, ami the volley of
lead continued to |>our from the guua
of the excited passenger*. Finally the
smoke cleared away, and the buffaloes
could be seen about half a mile off,
trotting along as unconcerned as
though they hail never wen a railroad
train. The disgusted travelers drew
in their weapons and spent the ret of
the day arguing a* to the probable
amount of lead a buffalo will carry be
fore he will weaken. Pictures of rail
road trains pas-ing through herds of
buffalo are numerous, hut the actual
experience is one of which the passen
gers may feel prond. Thev we-e (trie
bably hut straggliug bands from the
main herd, which is forty or fifty miles
north of the track. From Sentinel
Butte east to Pb-asaut Valley (Dick
inson) at least .>OO antelope were seen,
which iiTa daily fccurrcnce. Verily
the North Pacific is the sportsman *
paradise.
Death of Sapercsrro Iturksrl, who
liroapht A boat a Historical Huttle.
Tina llw Ph.l4.l|4ii ftn.
Valentine iinrkart, a veteran of the
war of 1812, died on Tuesday week in
IMth year of his age, at No. -128 Arch
street. His death occurred in the verv
same room, and within a few feet of
the same s|H>t, where he had been
married sixty-six years before. The
old soldier was the sole survivor of a
company of the Washington Guards
commanded by Captain Ilequet, and
stationed during the war wtth Great
Britain at Chester and New Castle.
The deceased was bora in Philadel
phia, and after receiving the best edu
cational advantages in those days, he
wa placed by his parents in the ship
ping and commission bouse of Willing
A Francis, then a widely known firm
among the shipping interests. The
young man was quick to leara, meth
odical and intelligent, and so fully
gained the esteem of his employers
that, at the age of twenty-one, he was
given the responsible position of su
percargo on the ship Slargaret, and
sent oo a crusae to Lisbon. On the
return passage the Margaret encoun
tered the British man-of-war Guer
riere, and was boarded by her, much
to the surprise of the officers and crew
of the Margaret, who were unaware
(hat war had been declare*l between
the two couutries. Mr. Burkart was
always of the opinion that the Guer
riere, also, did not know that hostili
ties bad been begun, for the Margaret
was simply searched for contraband
goods, and then permitted to continue
her course. She put into Halifax,
Nova Scotia, for water, and there
learned that war had been declared.
The young scapegrace at once made
inquiries as to whether there were any
American war vessels near, and was
overjoyed to find that the famous old
Constitution was in port. To her
commander, Captain Isaac Hull, he
told of the meeting with the Guer
riere, and described as closelv as he
could her possible location. The Con
stitution set sail on the 16th of Aug
ust, 1812, and encountered the enemy
three days later. The famous hattle
and the speedy defeat of the British
"terror of the seas" that followed are
facta well known to every schoolboy.
The passport carried by Mr. Burkart,
which entitled him to admission to
foreign ports, is still preserved by the
family, and is in itself a reminder of
noe of Philadelphia's oldest families.
It is drawn up in an old-fashioned,
clerkly hand, and signed in bold char
acters by Clement Biddle, notary pub
lie.
After the young supercargo return
ed to Philadelphia, be gave up his po
sition and enlisted in Captain Roquet's
company. After peace bad been de
clared, be came home to find both of
his former employers dead. He ob
tained a position in the Farmer*' and
Mechanics' bank as runner, and held
it for sixty years, resigning a few yeans
ago on acount of his age. He was a
remarkably healthy man, and never
employed a physician during his life
time. " He never lost a tooth by de
cay. and had a gkwey head of brown
hair on the day of bis death. Mr.
Burkart had been a communicant at
St. John's Lutheran church for aeveo
ty-five years, and was largely respected
among a large class of business men
for his sterling integrity, and contin
uous faithfulness to duty.