Pittsburg dispatch. (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, November 17, 1889, THIRD PART, Page 18, Image 18

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    THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH, SUNDAY. NOVEMBER "17, 1889.
18
i
'"'father, a wild-looking fellow, carried In one
arm, -while he shook his clenched left hand,
which was free, with threatening gestures In
the direction of her brothers.
And in a moment she saw an old man, bent
with hard labor, lift np his hand against Moses,
whom be would hare struck to the gronnd It
otbers bad not dragged Dim away.
She could no longer bear to stay on the roof.
Pale and panting Ehe flew out to the camp.
Milcah followed her closely, and whereverchey
met people belonging to Succoth they were
greeted with respect. The people of Z an and
those of Pha-gos, whom they met in the way.
did not know Miriam: still, the prophetess'
tall figure and noble dignity made them movo
aside for her or reply to her questions.
Tnen she beard terrible and evil tidings, for
the multitude which had set forth so joy tolly
on the first day bad :rept along in dejection
and woe on the second. The hot wind had
broken the spirit and strength of many who
had started in high health, and other sick folks
besides the bondsman's wile and infant bad
fallen sick of f ever from the choking dust and
scorching heat, and the speaker pointed to a
procession making its way to the Hebrew bury
ing place of Succoth. Nor were those who
s were being borne to the rest whence there is no
return women and children only, or sneb as
their kindred had brongnt away sick rather
than leave them behind; but likewise men, who
only yesterday had been strong, and who had
either sunk under too heavy a burden or had
heedlessly exposed themselves to .the sun's rays
as tbev drove their herds onward.
-In one tent Miriam found a young mother,
who lav trembling with fever, and she bade
2Iilcabgo fetch her case of medicines. The
forlorn wife gladly and quickly departed on
' this errand. On her way she stopped many a
passerbv to inquire timidly for her captive
husband, but she could get no news of him.
Jiinam, however, learned from Nun, Joshua's
fatner, that Eliab. the f reedman he bad left be
hind, had sent him word that his son was
ready to follow his people. She also heard that
Ephraim had been hurt and had found shelter
in Joshua's tent.
Was the lad seriously ill, or what conld it be
that detained his uncle in Tanis? The question
filled Miriam's heart with 'resh anxiety, yet
she dispensed help And comfort wherever it
was possible with unflagging energy.
Old Nun's hearty greeting had cheered her,
and no more stalwart, kind, or more lovable
old man could be imagined. The mere sight
of his noble head, with its thick, snow-white
hiirand beard, and the bright eyes which
sparkled with youthful fire in the handsome
face, bad done her good, and when he ex-p-essed
his joy at seeing her once more in his
vivid and winning manner, pressing her to his
heart and kissing her brow, she told him that
she had bidden his son, in the name of the
Lord, henceforth to bear the name of Joshua,
and had called upon him to be reunited to bis
people, and to be the captain of their hosts.
Then she felt, indeed, as though she had found
a father in place of him she bad lost, and ap
plied herself with renewed vigor to the stern
C 'ti.s wbich called ner from everv fide.
Nor was it a small effort to the lofty-minded
ma'den to devote herself with loving kindness
to her fellow creatures, whose wild and coarse
demeanor pained her soul. The women, in
deed, were glad of help, but to the men, who
had grown up under the overseer's whip, mod-
taij AUU wuBiucirfiiuu nciu uuuiunu. xutrir
minds were as savage as their manners. As
soon as they knew who she was they reviled
her because her brother bad tempted them
forth to leave endurable woes and rush to a
fearful fate; and as she heard their curses and
blaspheming and saw the fierce black eyes that
glittered in those brown faces all hung about
with rough, curling black hair and beard, her
heart shrank within her. Andyet she was able
to control her fear and aversion; her pulses
throbbed and she was prepared for the worst,
yet she did but commend the men who were so
repnlbive to her to the God of their fathers
and His promises, though womanly weakness
prompted her to flee.
Now, indeed, she understood what the sad,
warning voice forboded which she had heard
under the fycarnore, and as she stood by the
bed of a young mother sick unto death she
lifted up her hands and heart to the Most High
and made a Vow that she would dedicate all
her powers to light against the faint-hearted
want of faith and the wild insubordination
which threatened to bring her people Into great
straits. The Lord Almighty bad promised
them a fair land, and the short-sighted pride of
a few erring ones should not cheat them of it.
And God himself could hardly be wroth with a
race which was content so long as the bodies
were supplied with the food tney needed, and
which had endured scorn and blows as unresist
ingly as cattle. The multitude did not yet un
derstand that they must live through the night
of their present woes to be worthy of the day
which awaited them.
Her med'eines seemed to relieve the sick wo
man, and she quitted the tent in revived spirits
to seek her brothers.
In the camp matters were no better, and
again she witnessed many scenes which
shocked her soul and made her regret that
she had brought with he: the tender hearted
21 ii call.
Certain evildoers among the bondsmen, who
had laid hands on the cattle and goods of
others, had been caught and tied up to a palm
tree; and the ravens which had followed the
tribes, and had found ample food by the way,
were already croaking greedily round the
hastily contrived gallows tree.
None knew who was judge or executioner of
the sentence; hut the owners who were assist
ing in the deed thought themselves fully justi
fied and gloried in it With hasty steps and
averted head, Miriam drew the trembling
liilcah awav and placed her in the charge of
her uncle, Nahshon, to be conducted home.
Nahshon was just parting from the man who
shared with hiui therankof prince of the tribe
of Jndah. This was that same Hur who had
won the first victory against the Egyptians at
the head of the shepherds, and he now led the
maiden with happy pride toward a man and a
yonth his son and grandson. They had both
been in the service of the Egyptians, and at
Memphis bad worked as goldsmiths and brass
founders to Pharaoh. The elder, by reason of
his skill, had received the name of Uri, or the
Great: and the son of this father, Hur's grand
son, Belzaleel, was said to be more gifted even
than bis father, though as yet hardly more than
a vouth.
Hur gazed at his child and grandchild with
justifiable pride, for although they had both
' risen to high esteem among tha Egyptians they
had followed without demur at their father's
' bidding, leaving behind them much to which
their hearts clung, and which bound them to
Memphis, to join the wandering people and
share their uncertain fate.
Minara warmly greeted the newcomers, and
the men before her, representatives of three
generations, afforded a picture on which no
kicoly eye could fail to rest with pleasure. The
'grandfather was nigh on threescore, but. al-
. though there was much silver mingled with his
ebony black hair, be still held himself as
- straight as a young man, and his thin, sharply-
cut features revealed an unbending determina
tion, which sufficiently accounted for the readi
ness with which his son and grandson had
obeyed his call. TJri, too, was a well-grown
man. and Bezaleel a lad in whom it could be
seen that he had made good nse of his 19 years,
and conld already stand firmly on his own feet.
His artist's eye sparkled with a peculiar light,
and when presently he and hisfathertook leave
of Miriam to pay their respects to Caleb, their
grandfather and great-grandfather, she hearti
ly congratulated Hur, her brother's truest
friend, on having such descendants to keep up
the noble race.
At this Hur, taking her hand, exclaimed with
a grateful fervor, which sprang from his heart,
and which was usually foreign to the stern,
imperious nature of this chief of an unruly
tribe of herdsmen: "Yes, they have ever been
good and true and dutiful. God hath protected
them and granted me to see this joyful day.
Now it lies with you to make it a high feast day.
Ton must long since have seen tbatmy eye was
ever on you, and that you are dear to my heart.
I am a man, and you as a woman are pledged to
do all that is best for the people and their wel
fare, and that constitutes a bond between ns.
But I would fain be bound to you by a yet
stronger tie, and whereas yonrparents are dead,
and I cannot go to Amram witb the bride gift
in my hand and pay him for you. I ask you of
yourself in marriage, noble maiden. And be
fore you say me yea or nay let me tell you that
my son and grandson are ready to honor you
the head of our bouse as they honor me, and
that 1 have yonr brother's permission to ap
proach you as a suitor."
Miriam had listened to this proposal in
speechless surprise. She held the man who
pleaded so warmly in high esteem, and was well
inclined toward him. Notwithstanding his
riDe age be stood before her in all the strenrrth
of manhood and lofty dignity, and the beseech
ing of his eyes, more wont to command, went
to her souL
But she looked for another with ardent long
ing, and her only reply was a regretful shake
of the head.
But this man. the head of his tribe, who was
accustomed to go straight to the end of any
thing he bad resolved upon, was not deterred
by tnis silent rejection, and went on more
fervently than before: "Do not in one moment
overthrow the cherished hopes of many years!
Is it my age that repels you?"
And once more Miriam shook her head. But
Hur again spnke:
That, indeed, was what troubled me, al
though in strength and vigor I conld measure
myself against many a younger man. And if
you could but overlook your suitor's gray hairs
you might perhaps bring yourself to consider
bis request. Of the truth and devotion of my
(nit I will say nothing. No man sues to a woman
at my age unless his heart urges him with great
power. But there is another thing which to me
seems of no less weight. I would fain, asl hare
said, take you home to my house. There it
stands; it is strong and roomy enough; but
from to-morrow a tent must be our roof, a
camp our dwelling place, and wild deeds will
be tione there. Look only on the hapless crea
tures they have bound to that palm tree. There
is no judge to try the accused; the hasty im
pulse of the people is their ouly law. No one is
secure even of his life, least of all a woman,
iowever strong she may feel herself, who casts
in her lot with those against whom the multi
tude murmur. Your parents arc dead, jour
brothers cannot protect you, and if the multi
tude should lay hands on them the stone over
which ynu hoped to cross the flood will drag
you to the bottom.
. "And if I were yonr wife, drag you with me,"
replied Miriam, and her thick, black brows
CO IWUIUllJ Jtulfc.
A" dangerI am prepared to lace," an-J
sweredHur. "Our lot Is in the hands of the
Lord; my faith is as firm as yours, and behind
me stands the whole tribe of Jndah, which
follows me and Nahshon as a flock follows the
shepherd. Old Nun and the Ephralmites are
faithful to us, and if it came to the worst it
would be our duty to perish as God wills, or,
after reaching the Promised Land, to wait In
patience for our Utter end In faithful union. In
wealth and power."
At this Miriam looked him full and fearless
ly m the eyes, and laid her band on his arm,
saying:
"Such words are worthy of the man 1 have
revered from my childhood, the father of such
sons. Yet I cannot be your wife."
"You cannot?"
"Nay, my lord, I cannot."
"A bard saving; bnt I must be content," re
plied Hur, and be bowed his head sadly.
But Miriam went en:
"Nay, Hur, you have a right to ask .the rea
son! mviefusal, and inasmuch as I honor yon
I owe you the simple truth. My heart is set on
another man of onr people. I first saw him
while I was but a child. Like yonr son and
grandson, he joined himself to the Egyptians.
But he, like tlieni, has heard the call of God
and of his father, and if be, like TJri and
Bezaleel, has obeyed them, and si ill desires to
have me ta wife, 1 will go to him if it be the
Lord's will, whom I serve and who grants me of
His grace to hear His voice. But I will ever
think thankfully of you." As she spoke the
girl's large eyes glistened through tears, and
her gray-haired suitoj's voice quivered as he
asked her shyly and hesitatingly:
"But if the man you wait for 1 do not seek
to know his name if he turns a deaf ear to
the call that has gone forth to him, if he re
fuses to throw in his lot with the uncertain lot
of his nation ?"
"That can never be!" cried Miriam: but a
cold chill ran through her veins as Hur ex
claimed: "There Is no never, no certainty, save with
God. And if, in spite of yonr high faith,
things fall out other than you expect if the
Lord deny you the desire which first grew up
in your heart when you were yet but a foolish
child?"
"Then will He show me the right way, by
which He hath led me until now."
"Well, well," said Hur, "build on that foun
dation, and if the man of your choice is worthy
of you and becomes your husband, my soul
shall rejoice without envy if the Lord shall
bless your union. But if, indeed, God wills it
otherwise, and you shall crave a strong arm on
which to lean, here am L The heart and the
tent of Hur will be ever open to you."
He hurried away. Miriam gazed after him.
lost In thought, till the proud and princely
figure was out of sight.
Then she made her way back toward the
home of her protectors: but as she crossed the
way leading to Tanis she paused to look north
ward. The dust was laid and the road conld be
traced far into the distance; but he, the one
who should be riding toward her and toward
his people, was not in sight. It was with a
heavy sigh and drooping head that she went on
her way. and the sound of her brother Moses'
deep voice made her start as she reached the
sycamore.
CHAPTEB XIII.
Aaron and Eleazar in stirring words had re
minded the murmuring, disheartened people of
the might and promises of their God Those
wh- had stretched themselves outquietl to
rest, after being refreshed by drink and food,
found their lost confidence revived. The freed
bondsmen remembered the cruel slavery and
degrading blows from which they had escaped,
acknowledging, as the others did, that it was by
God's providence that Pharaoh was not pur
suing them. The rich supplies, which were
still being distributed from the plundered
storehouse, contributed not a little to reanimate
their courage, and tbo serfs and lepers for
they, for the most part, had marched forth
also, and were resting outsidi the camp in
short, all those for whose maintenance Pharaoh
had provided, knew that for some timetbey
were secure from need and want. Neverthe
less there was no lack of discontented spirits,
and now and then, without anyone knowing
who had started the question, it was asked if it
would not be wise to turn back and trust to
Pharaoh's forgiveness. Those who uttered it
did so secretly, and had often to take a sharp
or threatening answer.
Miriam bad come out, to meet her brothers
and shared their anxiety. How quickly had
the spirit of the people been broken in this
short march by the hot desert wind 1 How dis
contented, how distrustful, how hostile they
had shown themselves at the very first adver
sity! How unbridled in following their own
wild impulses I
ween tney naa Deen called together for
prayer on the war, a short time before sunrise,
some bad turned toward the sun as it rose in
the east, some had pulled out images of the
gods which they bad brought witb them, and
others again had fixed their eyes on the acacia
trees by the road, which were regarded as sacred
in many of the provinces by the Nile. What, in
deed, could they know of the God who bad
commanded them to leave so much behind
them and to carry such a burden? Many of
them wer. even now quite disheartened, and as
yet they bad faced no real danger, for Moses
had proposed to lead the people by the direct
road to Philistia into the Promised Land of
Palestine, but their demeanor forced him to
give np this place and think of another.
In order to reach the highway which con
nected Asia and Africa, It was necessary to
pass over the isthmus wbich reallv divides
rather than it unites the two continents; but it
was well defended from invaders, and the way
was secure from fugitives partly by natural and
partly by artificial obstacles. A succession of
deep lakes broke the level land, and where
these did not check the wanderers' march,
strong fortifications towered up, in which lay
Egyptian troops ready to fight.
Kbetan, or, as the Israelites called It, Etham,
was the name of this range of forts, and the
nearest and strongest could be reached in a few
hours by the tripes who were inarching from
Succoth.
With the people full of the spirit of their God.
inspired'and prepared for the worst, freed from
their chains and rejoicingin their newly gained
liberty, rushing along toward tbe Promised
Land, Moses -and the other leaders with him
had intended that, like a mountain torrent
bursting through dams and sluices, they should
annihilate and destroy all who came in their
way. With this inspirited throng, whose bold
advances might achieve tbe highest triumphs,
and to whom cowardly retreat conld have
meant nothing but death and destruction, they
bad expected to overthrow tbe works of the
Etham frontier like a pile of brushwood. But
now that a few short hours of weariness and
suffering had quenched the fire in their souls,
now that on every sido conld be seen for every
happy, elated man, two indifferent and five dis
contented or frightened, the storming of tbe
Etham lines would have caused streams of
blood and would have risked all that they had
already gained.
The conquest of the little garrison in the
storehouse at Pithom happened under such
favorable circumstances as tbey could not ex-
Eect to occur again, and so the original plan
ad to be altered and an attemnt made to r-et
round the fortress. Instead of marching north
east tbe people turned toward the south.
These things were discussed under tbe syca
more tree in front of Amlnadab's house, and
Miriam listened, a mute witness.
When the men held counsel the women, and
she also, had to be silent, but she found it hard
to hold her peace when tbey came to tbe con
clusion that tbey must avoid attacking the
forts, even if Joshua, the man skilled in war
and chosen by the Lord Himself to be the
sword of Jehovah, should return,
"Of what avail is the bravest leader when
there is no army to obey him?" cried NahBhon,
the son of Aminadab, and the rest had been of
his oninion.
When at length the assembled elders parted
Moses took leave of his sister with a brotherly
tenderness. She knew that he bad it in his
mind to go forth into fresh dangers, and in tbe
modest way she always used when she ventured
to speak to the man who, in body and mind,
was so far above all others, she told him of her
fears. He looked her in the face with kindly
reproof, and with his. right hand pointed to
heaven. She understood him, and kissed his
hand witb grateful warmth, saying: Thou art
under tre shield of the Most High, and I fear
no longer."
He pressed his lips to her brow, and taking
her taulets from her, wrote on them a few
words and cast them into the hollow stem of
the sycamore.
"For Hosea nay. for Joshua," said he, "if
he should come while I am absent. The Lord
hath great things for bim to do when he' shall
nave learned to trust in Him rather than in the
mighty ones of tbe earth."
He quitted her; but Aaron, who, as being the
elder, was tbe head of the family, remained
with Miriam, and told her that a worthy man
bad asked for her to wife; she turned pale, and
answered: "I know it."
He looked her in the face, mnch surprised,
and went on in a tone of crave warning:
"It must be as you will, but it would be well
that you should reflect that your heart belongs
to God and to your people; the man whom you
marry must be as ready as yourself to serve
them both, for two become one when they are
wed, and if the highest aim of one is as naught
to the other, they are no more one, but two.
The voice of the senses which called them to
gether is presently silent, and what remains is
a gulf between them."
With these words he left her, and she, too,
turned to quit the assembly, for perhaps now,
on tbe eve of their departing, she might be
needed in tbe house of which she was an in
mate; but a new incident arose to keep her by
me fcjwujuie, as u sue were douuq ana lettered
to it.
What could the packing, matter and the care
for perishable treasure and worldly goods, when
questions here were raised which stirred her
whole souL There was Elisheba, Nabshon's
wife, and any housewife or slave woman could
do the home work; here there were other mat
ters to decide, the weal or woe of the nation.
Certain men of the better sort from among
the people bad by this time joined themselves
to the elders under the sycamore, but Hur had'
departed with Moses.
NowUn, tbe son of Hur, came into the
group. He, as a metal worher, but lust come
from Egypt, had at Memphis had dealings witb
manyabout tbe court, and be had beard that
the King would be willing to relieve the He-
Drews oi tneir heaviest burdens and to grant
them new prlrilese,.ifpnly Moses woidsn-
treat the God he served to be favorable to Pha
roah and persuade the people to return so goon
as they should have sacrificed in the desert.
So the assembly now proceeded to discuss
whether envoys should not be sent to Tanis to
treat once more with the "High Gate."
Thisproposal.whlch he had not, indeed, dared
to lav before bis father had been 'made by Uri
in all good faith to the assembled elders, and he
hoped that Its acceptance might save the He
brews much suffering. Bnt hardly had be
ended his very clear and persuasive speech
when old Nun, Joshua's father, who had with
difficulty held bis peace, started up in wrath.
The old man's face, usually so cheerful, was
crimson with anger, and its deep hue was in
strange contrast witb the thick, white hair
whlcb bung about it Only a short while since
he bad beard Moses reject similar proposals
with stern decision arid the strongest argu
ments; and now must he hear them repeated?
And by many signs of approval on the part of
those assembled be saw that tbe great under
taking for wbich he, more than any one. had
staked and sacrificed his all, was imperiled. It
was too much for the vehement old man, and
it was with a flashing eye and threatening lists
that he exclaimed: ...' ...
"What words are these? Shall we reknit the
ends of tbe cord which tbe Lord our God bath
cut? Are we to tie it, do you say, with a knot
so loose that it will hold just so long as the
S resent mood of an iiresolute weakling, who
as broken bis word to Moses and to ns a score
of times? Would you baVe us return Into the
cage from which the Almighty hath released
nsbyamiraele? Are we to Stand before the
Lord our Giid as false debtors? Shall we take
tbe false gold which is offered us rather than
tbe royal treasure which He hath promised us?
Oh, manl You who have "come from the
Egyptian! I would I could "
And the fierce old man shook bis fists; bnt
before be bad spoken the threat which was on
his lips be ceased and bis arm fell, for Gabriel,
the elder of the tribe of Zebulon. called out:
"Kemember yonr own son, who at this day is
still content to dwell among tbe enemies of
Israel l"
Theblowhadtold;butitwas only for a mo
ment that the fiery patriarch's high spirit was
quelled. Above the hubbub of voices which
rose in disapproval of Gabriel's malice, and the
lesser number who took part with him. Nun's
was hoard: "It is by reason of the fact that,
besides the loss of the 10,000 acres of land which
1 have left behind, I may, perchance, have also
to sacrifice my noble son in obedience to tbe
word of the Lord, that I have a right to speak
my mind." His broad breast heaved sorrow
fully as he spoke, and now bis eyes, beneath
their thick, white brows, fell with a milder
gleam on the son of Hur, who had turned pale
under tnis violent auurcss, auu uo ol uu;
This man is indeed a good son and obedient
to bis father, and he, too, has made a sacrifice,
for be has come away from his work, in which
be won great praise, and from his home in
Memphis, and the blessing of the Lord rest
upon him I But inasmuch as be has obeyed that
bidding, he ought not to try to undo that which,
by the Lord's help, we have begun. And to you,
Gabriel, I say that my son is of a surety not
content to dwell with the enemy; nay. that he
will obey my voice and join himself to us, even
as Uri, the first-born son of HUr. Whatever
keeps him back, it is some good reason of
which Joshua need not be ashamed, not I, his
father. I know him. I trust him for that; and
he who looks for aught else from him will of a
surety, by my son's dealings, sooner or later, be
shown - be a liar.'
He ceased, pushing his white hair back from
bis heated brow; and as no more contradicted
him, he turned again to the metal worker, say
ing with hearty kindness: "It was not your
meaning, Uri, which roused my ire. Your will
is good: but you have measured the greatness
and glory of the 'God of o.ur fathers by the
standard of tbe false gods of the Egyptians,
who perish and revive again, and, as Aaron has
said, are but a small part of Him who is in all
and through all and above all. Till Moses
showed me the way I. too, believed I was serv
ing the Lord by slaying an ox, a lamb or a
goose on an altar, as the Egyptians do, and
now, if your eyes are opened, as mine were "by
Moses, to behold Him who rules the world and
who bath chosen us to be His people, yon, like
me and all of us yea, and ere long my own son
will feel the fire kindled for sacrifice in your
own hearts a fire that never dies, out, and con
sumes everything which does not turn to love
and truth and faith and worship of Him. For
the Lord hath promised us great things by tbe
word of His servant Moses: Redemption from
bondage, that we may be free lords and
masters henceforth on our own soil and
in a fair land which Is ours and our
children's forever I We are on our way
to this gift, and whosoever would delay us on
our way or desires us to return and crawl back
into the net whose meshes of brass we have
burst asunder counsels tbe people to become
as sheen who lean back into the fire from
which they have escaped. I am not wroth with
you now, for I read in yonr face that you
know how greatly you have erred, but hereby
vo shall know that I heard from the lips of
Moses but a few hours since that whosoever
shall counsel a return or any covenant with the
Egyptians, he himself will accuse as condemn
ing the Lord Jehovan our God, and as the de
stroyer and foe of his people."
At this Uri we np to the old man. held out
his hand, and deeply persuaded in his heart of
the justice of his reproof, exclaimed: "No
dealings, no covenant with the Egyptians!
And I am gretaful to you, Nun, for having
opened my eyes. The hour ' is at band when
you, or another who stands nearer to Him than
1, shall teach me to know more perfectly the
God who is my God likewise."
Hereupon he went away with the old man,
who leaned his arm upon his shoulder. ,
Miriam had listened with breathless eager
ness to Uri's last appeal, and when be gave
utterance to the wish to know more perfectly
tbe God of bis fathers, her eyes shone with
inspired ecstacy. She felt that her spirit was
full of the greatness of the Most High, and
that she bad tbe gift of speech wherewith to
make known to others the knowledge she her
self possessed. Bnt tbe custom of her people
required berto be silent. Her heart burned
within her, and when she had again mingled
with the crowd, and assured herself that
Joshua was not yet come, as it was now dusk
she went up to tbe roof, there to sit with the
others.
None seemed to have' missed her, not even
poor, forlorn Mil cab, and she felt herself alone
indeed in this house. If Joshua might but
come, if only she might find a strong breast on
which to lean, if this sense of being a stranger
among her kindred might have, an end this
useless life under the roof which she must call
her home, although she had never felt at home
there!
Moses and Aaron, her brothers, had departed,
and bad taken with them Hur's grandson; and
she, who lived and breatbed only lor her people
and their well-being, had not been found
worthy to be told more particularly whither
they were faring, or to what end. Ah! why had
tbe Almighty, to whom she bad devoted her
self, body and soul, given her the spirit and
mind of a roan. in the form of a woman?
She waited awhile as if to see whether, of all
this circle of kind hearts, her kith and kin,
there was not one to love her, listening to the
chatter of old and young who surrounded her;
but Elezar's children gathered about tbeir
grandparents, and she bad never had the art
of attracting tbe little ones. Dame Elisheba
was directing the slaves.who were putting the
nnisning toucaes to tne oaggage. juuean sat,
witb a cat in her lap. gazing into vacancy, and
the bigger lads were out of doors. No one no
ticed her or spoke to her.
Bitter sorrow fell upon her. After eating her
-supper with tbe others, making a great effort
not to cast tbe gloom of her own dark mood
over the happy excitement of the children,
who looked forward with great glee to their de
parting, she felt she must get out into the fresh
air.
Veiling her face closely, she crossed the camp
alone. Bat the scenes she saw there were ill
fitted to lift tbe burden that weighed upon her.
It was still astir, and although .here and there
pious songs rang out, full of triumph and hope,
tbere was more quarreling to be heard, and
rebellious uproar. Whenever threats or revil
ing against ber great brothers met her ear she
hastened forward, but she could not run away
from her anxiety as to what might happen at
sunrise, when the people were to set forth, if
the malcontents gained the upper hand. She
knew that the multitude must necessarily
more onward; still she had never been able to
subdue her fears of Pharaoh's mighty army.
It was personified to her in Joshua's, heroic
form. If tbe Lord of Hosts Himself were not
In tbe ranks of these wretched bondsmen and
shepherds who were squabbling and fighting
Att auuub ucr, uuw suuuiu luey uu nute 10 stand
against the tried and well-armed troops of
Egypt, with their chariots and horses?
She had heard that men bad been placed on
guard at every part of the camp and ordered
to tlow a blast on a born or drum on a metal
plate in the event of the enemy's approach till
the Hebrews should have come together at the
spot where the alarm should first be sounded.
She stood for some time listening for some
such call, but yet more eagerly for the hoofs of
a. solitary horse, the firm tread and the deep
voice of tbe warrior for whom she longed.
Looking for him she made her way to the
northern side of tbe camp next to the road to
Tanis, where, too, by Moses' order the larger
portion of the fighting men had pitched their
tents. Here she bad hoped to find nothing but
confidence, but as she listened to the talk of
tbe men-at-arms, who sat In large parties round
the watch fires, she shuddered to hear that
uri's counsel had reached "even to them. Many
oftbem were husbands and fathers, and left a
house or a plot of ground, -a business or an
office, and although many spoke of tbe com
mands of the Lord and of (he fair lands prom
ised them by God, otbers wore minded to tnrn
back. She would gladly- have gone among
them and have called nnon these blind hearts
to obey the bidding of the Lord and of her
brother. But here again sbe must keep silence.
However, sbe might at any rate listen, and
sbe was most tempted to linger where she
might expect to hear rebellious words and
counsels.
There was a mysterious charm in this painful
excitement She felt as though she bad been
robbed of a pleasure when tbe fires died out,
tbe men retired to rest and silence felL
Now, for the last time, she gazed out on the
way from Tanis, but nothing stirred except the
watch pacing to and fro.
As yet she did not despair of Joshua's com
Inc. for the bidding she had sent him in the
full conviction that it was the Lord Himself
who had chosen ber to deliver it must certainly
havo reached him; now, iowever, as sbe read
in the stars that it was past midnight, she be
gan to reflect bow many years be bad dwelt
among the Egyptians, and that be might think
it unworthy of a man to hearken to tbe call of
a woman, even when' she spoke In the name of
the Most High. She-had endured much humili
ation this dav: -why should not this also be
hanging over her ? To tbe man she loved, like
wise, sbe ought, perhaps, to have kept silence
and nave left it to her brothers to declare the
Lord's-behests to' him.
f 3b Be Continued.
SUNDAY THOUGHTS
-ON-
MORALSMAIERS
BY A CLERGYMAN.
IWBITTEN TOR TH DISPATCH.
The criticism passed on the late Episco
pal Convention in New York City is that it
was ultra conservative. This, that and the
other "improvement" was suggested, only
to be remorselessly sat down upon. "Thank
God." exclaimed one of the Bishops, referr
ing to all this, "we did nothing!" It used
to be said in England that "no man ever
did so mnch good as Lord Elden prevented."
How mnch good these ecclesiastics pre
vented is known only in heaven. It is to
be hoped they also blocked not" a little that
was bad.
The, truth should be that -we Americans,
while the most radical oi races, are at the
same time most' conservative specially in
religion. In business, we are always ready for
the last new thing. In politics, the fashion
changes with the rapidity of the new combina
tions made by tbe turn of the kaldieos cope.
In society, the belles and beaux follow Mrs.
Grundy in a tireless hunt after novelties. But
in religion, voilat the motto and consistent
practice is: "Stand still, and see the salvation
of God."
Perhaps it is well that our volatile blood con
tains this tincture of conservatism. An anchor
is a bandy thing to have on shipboard.
All the same, the spirit of the age and of our
race will intrude upon the deliberation of ec
clesiastics of all orders a Banquo's ghost that
will not "down" at tbe bidding of church re
solves; or, at any rate, that will not stay down.
Here are the Presbyterians, for example,
troubled by the question of a revision of their
venerable standards. One party says: "Let
well enough alone." Tbe other party insists
that the old confessions aro simply mile-stones,
showing how far Christian thought and feeling
have traveled, and that each age needs and
should make a new statement of belief,
adapted to present conditions and exigencies.
Which of these two parties will carry the day
remains to be seen. Meantime, it is quite safe
to predict that nothing very startling will be
done in any case. The Presbyterians are al
most as famous for making has;e slowly as the
Episcopalians themselves.
Church Vacation.
The devil never takes a vacation. His mis
sionaries are as diligent as be is. And what
knowledge of human nature, what study of
methods, what nice adaptation of means to
ends, does he and do they show. Mighty prop- J
aganda of evil! Protean, unsleeping. Inspired
Irom hell and operated on earth. Why, right
here in this town there aro more temples of
Bacchus (and tobaccus) than ancient Greece
knew. Here there are more worshippers of
Venns than the impure groves or classic altars
gathered.
The minister of the church yonder takes a
vacation of two months in the summer, and his
people precede or follow him. Meanwhile, the
church edifice is closed. When he and tbey
get back, a, month is spent in getting the work
under way again. In the spring it is interrupt
ed by preparations for tbe approaching sum
mer. Tbe keenest device Satan ever patented
is the vacation dodge. It gets good neonle ont
of the way a quarter of the year, and leaves him
in full possession of tbe field.
The propaganda of evil can be fought success
fully only by apropaganda of good equally reso
lute, equally alert, equally in earnest, equally
fertile in resources, equally unsleeping.
"My Father worketh hitherto, and I work,"
said Jesus. When the clergy and tbe laity imi
tate Jesus they will begin to compete with the
devil on terms of equality. Until then they win
only play at church.
wnat, ougnt not unnstians in tne pulpit and
out, to have any recreation? Certainly they
ought, hut not at the .expense of the cause they
serve. The church should never be closed.
When the pastor Is away let some other minis
ter carry on the service. When tbe congrega
tion is at the seashore or among the mountains,
let another congregation, recruited from tbe
highways and byways, fill tbe .news. Demos
thenes explained the secret of oratory as lying
in action, action, action. The secret of success
ful Christian campaigning lies in evangelizing,
evangelizing, evangelizing.
Have a constant rotation of clergymen, on
the Methodist plan. Keep the church open, as
onr Roman Catholic friends do. Every day is
the devil's Sunday. So all days ought to be
days of worship and days of Christian work.
Ministers Just Like Other People.
The editor of the Interior, in a characteristic
bit of irony, punctures the common fallacy that
ministers are ignorant of human nature, as fol
lows: "It has been said that ministers do not under
stand human nature. Well, how should they?
Ministers are not like other people. They were
never boys never played shinny, or ate green
apples, or stoned the birds, or got flogged. Tbe
first that is known of ministers is that they live
in theological seminaries. They come into
existence by a fortuitous concatenation of
atoms, full grown, and never learn anything
of human nature except what they find in the
theological professors. And when tbey get
through it is the same. -Tbey do not even
know enough about human nature to fall in
lo7e with the girls. Nobody ever heard of a
young theolog having a sweetheart If a pretty
girl should lay her hand confidingly in ,pne of
theirs, and lift her drooping eyelashes and
glance in his face, he would run. And then,
when they enter the regular work; they never
come in contact with pugnacious elders or
stingy members, or religious cranks; never
have to beg money to bnild churches; never
have to harmonize difficulties or settle quar
rels, or listen to complaint, or give consolation
or reproof. They don't know anything about
human nature 1 Of course not V
Short Sunday Sermons.
"We are ever taking leave of something that
will not come back again. We let go with a
pang portion after portion of our existence.
However dreary we may have felt life to be
here, yet when the hour comes the winding up
of all things, the last grand rush' of darkness
on our spirits, the hour of that awful sudden
wrench from all we have ever known or loved,
the long farewell to sun, moon, stars and light
brother men, I ask you this day, and I ask
myself, humbly and fearfully, what will then
be finished? When it is finished; what will it
be? Will it be the butterfly existence of pleas
ure, the mere life of science? a life of uninter
rupted sin and selfish gratification; or will it
be, "Father, I have finished the worn which
thou gavest me to do." Rev. ". W. Robertson.
God knows I'm not the thing I should be,
Nor am I even the thing I could be.
But twenty times I rather would be
An athiest clean.
Than under Gospel colors hid be
Just for a screen. Burns.
. Mystery such as is given of God is beyond the
power of human penetration, yet in opposition
to it. Madame de Slack
When God indicts the soul, man takes refuge
in a general confession that ignores particulars.
He will acknowledge be is a sinner. Every
body is. Ha supposes he has broken tbe Deca
logue. Who has not? But you will ask him in
vain to mention tbe commandment, C. S.
Robinson.
a od was as kind to Abraham as be was to St.
John. He has as sincere a sympathyforHagar,
as sbe cast her dying boy under a tree, as He
had for the widow of Nain when she followed
ber dead son on tbe bier. He was as forbear
ing with Moses as He was with Bimon Peter.
And this is what unites the Old and -New Tes
taments. The one supplements and completes
the other, because God. is in both, the same
yesterday, to-day, and forever. lb.
Trim faith consists in not letting what wn rlo
know he disturbed by wbat we do not know.
Lord Bacon.
Men even in deep distress cannot be made to
welcome death as a friend. In the old fable,
tbe aged man grew desperate as he cast his
load of fagots from bis sore shoulders: "Sit
ting down he prayed for Death to come to bis
relief." Suddenly Death appeared and asked
what he needed? "Nothing," answered the
frightened creature, starting to his feet; "noth
ing, only to'have some one help me to put my
burden back on my shonlderl" Ben Ahab.
Having once in my youth, notions or severe
piety, I used to rise in the night and read the
Koran. Once, while thus engaged, my father,
a man of practical religion and of eminent vir
tue, awoke while I "was reading aloud. I said
to him: "Father, thy other children are lost in
slumber, but I alone wake to praise God."
And he answered: "Son of my soul, it is better
to sleeD than to wake to remark the faults of
thy brethren." Persian Blow-
Thouobt is a photographer. It produces in
us the likeness of tbe person or thing long
thought of. "Think of Buddha eay the Chi-
nese priests, -mu you ww b u resemble
Buddha." Is this not true of Christ?
Theee are two great' systems of theology,
fJneliealrthlstJc-andtlieothet tea't. -
BUSY BUTTERFLIES.
flow a Fasbionable Woman Toils In
defatigably Day and Night to
RETAIN flER SOCIAL STANDING.
Cabinet Ladies Who Sustain tbe Adminis
tration's Credit.
SEED OP A CLEARING HOUSE FOE CAEDS
I W KllTltN TOB Tfflt DISPATCB.1
One class of working women, who toil and
slave and sacrifice themselves ior society,
receive but little sympathy, and no wages
to speak of unless it be in tbe satisfaction of
duty done, as tbey see it. These workers
have not been invited to join the Knights of
Labor. As a class they take little or no in
terest in the W. C. T. TJ. They give no aid
or countenance to reforms or movements for
making the world better or wiser, save per
haps in chnrch bazaars and individual in
stances. They are simply devoted head
and heart, body and soul, and all that in
them is to society, as it is understood to
mean the "circle of social caste" which in
every village and town and city fastidiously
and exclusively claims through virtue of
ancestry or fortnne to be the upper class.
In order to hold and to gain a position "in
society these women work, and manage,
and maneuver and bring powers of mind,
capacity lor endurance, and energy of am- '
bition worthy of a nobler end and a higher
aim. To maintain their prestige and duly
impress outsiders with the magnitude of
their importance, they must entertain with
great elegance and severe e-clusiveness. "
They must go forth day after day, and make
calls and distribute cards. They must at
tend receptions, and teas, and dinners, and
charity fairs and swell weddings. From
morning until night they are engaged in
this society business, and complain of noth
ing so much as being worn ont and bored to
death.
The busy women who are not "in society,"
but have six or seven children to make and
to mend for, to train and to teach as to
catechism and manners, whose thongbts and
endeavors are given at all available times
to the vexing problem of how to make both
ends meet on narrow means, are apt to envy
these dames of fashion, and to imagine that
their days are full of joys and 'the bliss of
rest Irom carking care, bnt if they only
knew it their iashionable. sisters work as
hard as they at the drive of fashion and the
demands of society and find little or no time
to read or to rest or to enjoy.
A SOCIETY WOMAN'S WOKE.
Take note of the society woman so-called.
In the morning she gives her orders for
the day to her servants. .Then she goes off
to tbe dressmaker's, or to do shopping, or to
marketing, or outer inaispensaoie work.
The afternoon is devoted to calls and cards,
while evening is usually given to a dinner,
or an entertainment of some sort that more
often than not is dnll as dishwater, or a re
ception that proves to be only a depressing
encounter under false pretenses of pleasure
between bores and bored. Weddings,
parties, at homes and dinners "in society"
are mainly matters of elaborate decorations,
exhibitions oi exquisite china, splendid
services of cnt glass and silver and a menu
of numerous and costly courses, with wines
to match, with the proper number of stnpid
people done up in full dress, who are rarely
congenial, intellectual or otherwise than
solemnly dull at any scene of festivity.
These eat and drink and walk
around and exchange compliments in an
artificial way that imposes on nobody as
sincere or heartfelt How strongly these
grand and stately entertainments, with the-'
guests arrayed in their best clothes, the
women vieing with each other as to dia
monds and low-cut gowns, and with digni
fied dullness as the prevailing feature contrast-
with the little cozy dinners with con
genial friends, where the sparkle oi jewels
and cnt glass is more than made np by the
brilliance of wit and play of humor, where
with plainer but better cooking and less of
blaze and glitter the good stories are told.
the solemn jokes bring smiles and cheery
laughter, which, as Carlyle says, is "the
cipher key wherewith we decipher the whole
man."
"In society" the cost of the jewels a
woman wears is the fact most usually chron
icled to show her standing, while the dollars
a man possesses are given as evidences of
his title to high position and distinguished
notice. Mrs. Astor, as accounts go, is re
markable for nothing special, save her dia
monds, which represent so much actual
cash, that when she attends a reception a
policeman in evening dress accompanies her
for their protection. But while this wealth
of sparkling stones may be solace to her
soul,' and give her the comforting satisfac
tion that few, if any, can compete with her
in theii; possession, yet their mere display
ADDS NO ADDITIONAL ZEST
to the enjoyment of the company. All of
the Mrs. Astors, save the first, rank as dnll
women, with nothing to distinguish them
from the common herd, except their wealth.
The first Mrs. John Jacob Astor, as is re
lated, helped her husband with his work of
dressing and tanning furs, and to make tbe
future upon which her successors base their
claims to exclusiveness and social prestige.
Mrs. Astor is the acknowledged leader of
society in New York, bnt what is her in
fluence in the country as compared with
some who are leaders of thought, whose
claims to distinction are fonnded. on brains
rather than on priceless precious stones?
In almost every little rural village or
country town there is a small clique or ex
clusive set called "society." To be in this
ring means social eminence and aristocratic
pretensions either by virtue of ancient
lineage, blue blood or money to be outside
means to be common, to be plebeian, to be
long to the lower orders. Those who are
ranked as "in society" will treat these lat
ter with politeness and courtesy, it may be,
when they chance to meet, but they are not
invited to the round of dinners, the rotation
of luncheons, or the general zaveties bv
which the laws of hospitality are main
tained, and the exclusiveness oi society is
sustained. In country towns wealth has
less to do with social standing than alleged
blue blood and ancient 'family, while in
cities wealth carries everything before it
sooner or later. The English nobility, with
lordly halls, and with ancestors that
came over with "William the Conqueror,
will marry into a lower social order upon
which they look with contempt for the
sake of money, and no social set in, this
country is so hedged in by pride of birth or
position that the possessors of money cannot
enter and secure its prizes. So powerful an
influence has the almighty dollar that a
Prince Colonna was glad to wed the' daugh
ter of the keeper of an ordinary-boarding
honse and a Prince Hatzfeldt eager and
anxions to sell himself and his aristocratic
antecedents and noble title to a grocer's
daughter for' spot cash, and Marlborongh,
the unworthy representative of one of En
gland's proudest and most famous names,
marries an obscure New York widow for her
stacks of stocks and shekels and wealth of
real estate.
SOCIETY AT THE CAPITAIi.
Bnt nowhere perhaps are the claims and
duties of society as they are felt to be
more onerous and oppressive than in "Wash
ington, to not only the strictly fashionable
society people, but to many whose tastes and
inclinations lead, them to desire a life given
to better thines than falling in with empty
forms and wasting time upon all the differ
ent varieties of bores that the laws of social
usage and etiquette inflict upon those whom
politics or fortune or fate bring into prom
inence in the beautifnl city. Public duty
has attained such proportions and has be
come'so exacting that private secretaries at
public expense nave become a necessity for
the relief of members of Congress, and, the
great need of such assistance for the ladies
who uphold the social fabric seems to be
growing more apparent. Mrs. Whitney,
who did so much to distinguish
herself and to nphold the social
prestige of the ..Cleveland adsniBitea'.
tion by her magnificent entertainments
and capacity for courtesy aud hospitality,
felt the pressing need of a private secretary
to assist her. As fallowed, Mrs. Grundy,
who is always ready with ill-natured criti
cism, set this down as a device by which
Mrs. Whitney could be tutored as to Cabi
net etiquette, and posted as to who was who
by order of ancestry, virtue of money, or
power of politics, and to be instructed as to
ranking her guests in proper order of pre-
ceaence at er grauu dinners and In the
amenities and conventionalities of society
at the capital generally, of which knowl
edge, as coming from as far west as Ohio,
the tabbies set her down as lacking. But,
in trnth, it is not to be supposed that any
woman, however heroic and self-saerifininEr-
could do all that is now required of a
society leader withont help. It may be
said, too, that the implied reproach flung at
Mrs. Whitney on the score oi hiring a well-poatfi-d
secretary to keep her straight as to
etiquette, good form, and the requirements
of ner exalted posjtion, may now be turned
over to Mrs. Morton, who, as wile of the
"Vice President and prospective successor or
Mrs. Whitney, has engaged the same lady
to fill the office of secretary and keep the
books balanced as to calls and cards and
conventional courtesies during the present
administration.
It seems to be the generally understood
thing that the wife of any member ot tlte
Cabinet whose husband is a millionaire or,
as the politicians put it, has a "bar!,"
must go largely into the business of enter
taining the multitude
"FOB THE SOCIAL CREDIT
of tbe administration. However quietly she
may desire to live, she must yet sacrifice her
inclinations, and devote all of her powers of
mind and strength and body to keeping up
with the etiquette of exaltation of office.
She feels bonnd to hold weekly receptions,
and receive sweetly and cordially all callers,
no matter how much of a bore it may be.
This ceremony brings an avalanche of cards',
which are to be duly inspected and booked
in the visitors' list. AH of this state and
greatness, enjoyed at first perhaps on the
score of novelty, becomes a most prievnnn
'burden, endnred heroically on the gronnd
iuai ine urovernment must De sustained so
cially as well as politically. But while the
President and his wife, who occupy the
White Honse, complain of the weariness of
receptions and the countless bores who
throng its halls, still they can live in a con-
uiuonpi asumgiou lormatuy, Jenersonian
simplicity or Hayesian severity, bnt the
wives of Cabinet Officers and Congressmen
under precedent must stand tbe stress and
strain, and slave ana sufier in the straggle
with calls and cards. They must hold
receptions, and smile, and say sweet noth
ings, and be charmingly hospitable when,
if they lived in the palace of trntb, most of
them would confess to "being sick of it all,
and of being bored beyond words to tell,
while some would break down altogether
with nervons prostration.
We take it that the question before the
house at present is: Is the game worth the
candle? Does it pay to thus squander money,
to waste energy, to fritter away time on
what after all is but sheer vanity and vexa
tion of spirit? Is not life too short to throw
away its golden glowing hours on what.
sifted down, is really sham and hvpocrisy?
When a lady dressed iu her mos't elegant
"things" goes on a round of formal calls
how pleased she is to find most of those she
visits "not at home," since she can thus get
through more of her task, and thank heaven
when she gets home that she has "done"
that lot for some time at least. Another
gets even on her social score by a errand re
ception, to which she invites everybody to I
n Arnchan ontl lomm.? anil I....... 41.z '.
trains "walked upon," and their lace gowns
torn, and their tempers ruffled to almost the
the last notch.
Many fashionable women, it is presumed,
like this sort of thing. The blaze, the dazzle,
the excitement give zest to dull and dreary
lives, and furnish filling for shallow minds.
But to women of brains, with a capacity for
common sense, nothing hardly can be more
stupid and insipid. These love congenial
company, social intercourse with kindred
minds, and revel in the joys of real friend
ship, but they have no love for the shams and
raSINCEBITIESOFFASHlONABLESOCrETY
Although women have been enjoined for
centuries to be "keepers at borne' it is
nevertheless held that society is their realm
that they make its laws and maintain
thoir supremacy in the empire of manners.
Considering this truth is it not strange that
as a class they make so little effort for tbeir
own reiiei irom tne mocc courtesies and
conventionalities that bear so heavily
upon their time and tax their energies to no
' end, save folly? When Mr. Blaine was so
closely upon the verge of nomination for
President in 1884 that his election was
looked upon as a loregone conclusion, it was
publicly announced that Mrs. Blaine and
Gail Hamilton had pnt their heads together
and their wits to work and had devised an
emanclpatian act that would greatly relieve
society women from the tyranny of cards
and calls. By their new code of 'etiquette
to be promulgated from the White House,
when Blaine had assumed the reins of office,
it was announced that a great society reform
was to be instituted that would do away
with a vast deal of fashionable lionism,
modify in some degree the laws of social
slavery and give to women in society a little
time to breathe and pray at intervals. Bnt
alas "there is many a slip 'twixt the cup
and the- lip." All this proposed reform
came to naught because Brother Blaine
failed to "get there." Bnt if , there is any
real desire "in society" for reform, or any
urgent call for a new and less onerous code
that Will inculcate more of real politeness
and do away .with the tax upon precious
time, and lighten the burden of hypocrisy,
it conld be very easily managed.
Men invented the Clearing Honse for
the convenience of bankers, why shonld not
society, as someone suggests, have a clear
ing house for cards. Such measure of econ
omy wonld enable women to enjoy the calm
consciousness of being kept straight with
the conventionalities, and yet be saved the
horrors ot boredom and the terrors of nervons
prostration.
Men, in the main, hate the goings on in
"swell society." They hate to talk sweetly
polite nothings to people they care nothing
about. They love congenial company, but
they abhor the twaddle of fashionable,
drawing rooms, hence their unwillingness'
to be "trotted ont" has resulted in afternoon
receptions, ladies' luncheons, matinee -card
parties, where women alone take part.
When these are mainly confined to friends
and acquaintances they are pleasant, but
when a reception means a jam of people
largely unknown to each other, it is siiffly
formal and formidable, and only when
women protest as men do by staying at
home will a change come to pass. Social
intercourse should be a means of enjoyment,
and not an infliction to be credited to the
score of good manners. Hospitality is one
of the sweetest of virtues, through which
may be found a way to heaven, but as
Bishop Atterbury says: "Hospitality some
times degenerates into profuseness, and ends
in madness and folly."
Bessie Bramble.
The Kaip of the Cigarette.
Mr. Boustetter (eoing through the reserva
tionsWhat a horwibly wetched set they
are, aren't they, Lieutenant? -.
Big Chief Frayed Prairie De Ibjhh bo
iimin ouiiM.-?-tiy- ..
A GLIMPSE -OF PAEIS.
Viewing the Gay French Capital From
the Hill of Jdontraartre.
THINGS FOEEIGNEES DO SOT 8EE.
A Frenchman's Love for the Bright and'
Bustling Boulevards. "
ANGLOMAKIA AMONG THE PEEKCH
tcoKBXsr-oNnxxcx or thi pisrxtcu.l
Pabjs, November 6. The town, which
during six months past has been invaded by
foreigners, will soon be itself again ; tben
Parisians and others living within the city
walls will be "chez eux," as usual. , The
boulevards, the theaters, the cafes and res
taurants, jbe Bois de Boulogne, have not
belonged to "us Parisians" for a long
while. Of course, this city is always a
charming place, no matter what may be the
state of barometer or thermometer, or who
its guests; but the aver-abnndance of per
sons from abroad, and especially Irom the
provinces, have made it much less agree
able this past summer than I have ever be
fore known it. There is, however, some
thing to boast of even in this invasion.
London, twice as big in circumference and
population, has its season; but the mighty
metropolis has never yet succeeded fn at
tracting the whole of Europe; and though
Anglomania is one of the deeply rooted pas
sions of true Parisians, and even of the
French themselves, that mania hat its lim
its. The "dudes" of Paris high life are
quite willing to copy the English "masher"
as to fashions and dress in English clothes;
they will talk the slang of the turf and tell
you about dogs and yachts; but the most
that any of them will ever do in the way of
visiting old England is to cross the channel,
and stay in London for a day or two, search
ing for fogs during Derby week, and all
that sort of thing,
On the other hand English peonle make
it a sort of religious faith to hurry over here
and spend a'mong their traditional enemies
as much time as possible and considerable
money. All the holidays that they can
steal from shops, counting rooms and 'arms
are spent in Paris. Willingly tbey abandon
their mnch-boast'ed-of comiortable homes for
wbat they call the discomfort of French ho
tels; and since last Grand Prix day good
people from the other side of the "silvery
streak" have been in the boulevards and in
the Champs Elysees by hundreds of thou
sands. They are, however, by no means the
only foreigners who dropped into the capital
during the summer, for even the natives of
most distant countries have flocked here in
constantly increasing throngs. Beactionary
papers are forever crying out that hatred of
France is the order of tbe day all over the
world since France became a Eepubhc.
"Beware," they cry, "for Europe has her
eye on us. Europe hates us. We are being
outlawed by the other nations of the Conti
nent," and all that sort of nonsense. Europe
and the rest of the world has had a strange
way of showing hatred and snspicion of
France and French 'manners during the
past six months. X doabt if in the palmiest
days of the imperial and monarchical
regimes there was anything like the Paris
life and Parisian pleasures such as have
been drawing strangers in such numerous
throngs to the gay capital during the third
Bepublic.
SIGHTS NOT SEEK.
The only trouble has been that most of
the foreigners have seen so very little of the
capital, new, comparatively speaking,
went to the-top of the Eiffel Tower, and no
wonder, for it is by no means agreeable to
have to stand In line two or three hours be
fore an elevator is reached that takespu
senaers to the. various platforms. Why.
too. .did they not go in cabs to the foot of the
hill of Hontmartre, and thence walk to the
summit of that steep declivity whenee they
would have had as fine a view as is possi
ble from the tower itself.
I am tempted to ftart anen parenthesis in
the way of a history of tbe famous Mons
Martyrinm, or rather I should say, of the
the immense quarries which have existed in
its flank from days immemorial, but tbere
is hardly time for that now, so let us tackle
the hill "itself and have our view while the
the full light is on. The hill of Montraartre
may be likened to an enormous boulder
dropped down in the midst of the plain on
which Paris stands, and it is, so to speak, a
little city of its own apart from the great
capital which surrounds it, a town that has
local nsages, customs and privileges. Tour
Montmartaiois does not live nor look at
things the same as the Parisian of the Boule
vard. As the the air up there is keener so
are the ideas of the natives freer and wider.
Paris is an ocean an intellectual ocean a
vast sea, into which nothing can be cast
without everything being moved, and seen
from the top of Montraartre it presents the
aspect of a material ocean where, through
the mist, stately ships appear ships with
hulls of granite, with- marble columns for
masts and with gold domes for sails to lie
at anchor and form the fine architectural
buildings that face broad streets and ave
nues. It is indeed a grand and suggestive spec--tacle
that this great city presents when
viewed from one of the pinnacles of Mont-
raartre,,as for instance that of the Moulin
de la Galette. The day is fine and, our eyes
are astonished at the sight of so mnch
grandeur stretching over a vast expanse
from the eastern to tbe western horizon, and
we cannot help wondering at the number of
monuments and the incessant display of
human activity abd genius. Our imagina
tion, mounting the winged steed of mem
ory, carries ui back in spite of ourselves to
the past, to the days- of those centuries that
are now long vanished. Time was when
nothing of what we now see existed. Where
to-dav throbs the heart of a nation, where
breathes one of the souls of the world, wis
a marshy plain covered with dense forests,
and this massive rtick with yonder winding
river, almost at its very foot, are the only
witnesses of that long ago which now re
main. SUndiftg on the top of this high
summit, we can quite appreciate the great
love which tbe Emperor Julian had for his
Lutece; and, looking up into the pure blue
sky or gazing Over the beautifnl environs,
we can easily understand ourselves why the
town is such a favorite place for all for
eigners. Poor Montmartret The march of civiliza
tion is, Tiowever, spoiling it every day; un
der the pretense of municipal embellish
ments its narrow, crooked streets and steep
lanes are becoming commonplace thorough-.
fares. Smoky lamps that for ages blazed
with oil only are' giving way to gas, and
electricity is already established on the hill,
sti that those who are building the mighty
chnrch of the Sacred Heart mar see to work
at night'time. We miss romantic tumble
down houses that Were here, two or tnree
years ago, and apartment structures that
reach upward six and seven stories have
taken the place of picturesque ,huts that
were in existence sav ior centuries.
A 'WOSDEBFirii VIEW.
Xook down, please, and see Paris lying at
your feet inclosed by a chain of hills that
sweep round the horizon from Chenneviers
to Mendon. while at our back spreads ont a
great plain on the other edge of which to
ward the north rises the slender spire of
Saint Denis' ancient abbey. Off on tbe right
.Mont valenen, tne highest elevation about
the eity of Paris. At its top is a powerful
fortress; it stands quite 600 feet above tbe
leyel of the Biver Seine, and was the only
fort the German array could not capture
when they besieged (he Capital. Mont
Valeriea was the headquarters of the Druids
when tbey worshiped is this part of Gaul.
To tben succeeded pagan priests irom Bome,
and alter that the Christian religion seat
pilzriase. In the seveath century a mission
was rBded on the hill aad called "Cal
vary;" bat the Kevolutkw destroyed its
feandatiww la '98. Xha a private geatie
H kMfftt ta plaee. jpid tor it in papr
BMMaadaMdetfeaMBa tanaiuc -iryjMniaAM
.A iiwi jaaM laticba sfM ft
t Out TmTmht vfin tirled to build ft JBOn-
astery, but in 1807 Kaooleoa seized the hill
with a view to founding on it aoorpnan
asylnm fbrchildreaof the member-of. tbe
Legion of Honor. The buildingi
planned by him for this purpose
were still unfinished when the Bourbons
returned and then Mont Valerien became
the site of a missionary college Thisinew
destination was, however, changed jby
the July Government when- a -new system
of fortifications was adopted, and the mill'
tary commission pronounced Mont "Valerien
to be tbe most important strategic position
in the environs of the capital. More thaa
f 3,000,000 were spent in constrnctinbtha
fort and the necessary powder magazine!
and workshops. A "garrison of 2,000 in
fantry and artillerymen enongb to maneuver
its great guns, a battalion pt engmeervand -,
an enormous quantity of military sopphea
are now in the 'ortress. -
. The other day when Olivier Metra, the 3
famous composer of waltz music, was dyingfv
he rained himseUupin hisbedandstretfihedrfS
out his arms exclaiming! '?$ii&J,
"Boulevard! Boulevard!" . AA &i
That is tbe way most of ns feel-abonmhek,
boulevards. We can catch af'glimpsegfjy
them from the top of MontmartrfctrsThere"E
are several thoroughfares thus called jibar..
only one is tbe genuine article. The Boule? ' """
yard is the great street that stretches! away .
from the Madeleine Chnrch to'-the opea .'
square where the Bastlle used "tolttasdr "
This u the broad way into which nationslof
the earth have poured this past lummer;
and along which every Parisian tro:laTai
some time or another. To FrenchmenJSeaS',
eraliy its pavement am mo .on;?5Vin-'
the Via Sacra of ancient Borne. Thcaifjl
see and be seen there, can tnnrfi ,5n3lbC
tonnfiiH? wit!, f-i a .,.11 ..... . -ztrrS
to by, and speak with, tout le monde" within1
no onmfql iviasntf
THE OLOET OT PAEI3,
It is in the Boulevard !,.,-..--llvisKS.
TnTTlfltai- wri!, .t. ...I t -. Ji .
..... ..UMV,U iucr, wnere woraa seem,
witty, gestures eloquent, and old:;tirader
new and fresh again. There is-a constant -.
clash of ideas going on in it.betweenthe
Joccey Club corner and theBueMontmar-"
tre which crosses it, stretchine away toward
the Seine in one direction aad to tha foot'of
!r ",uJ!n whicl1 we re standing innthe
other. The Boulevard has madaihe fortune
and reputation oi many men; many of those
who first came into it wearing- wooden shoes
live now in fine style up by the Arctde
Triomphe, or further on toward the Bois de ,
Boulogne. Great politicians and eminent
statesmen of France graduated ouf oftftst
ea.es-, from its newspaper offices sncfiil"
dingy bureaus. Along its sidewalk ebbai
and flows a constant atvaam .ri,n-,'f.-u,
It is a complex crowd, a mixed gatherihgA
...... nvu,bu wc.uer, uu&u &xe3Fna-j
merons, and everybody from everywhere oiaj
earth. There are persons in the swim.who
nave come to Paris to play a part, and who
believe they are touched with s ravntty
glory, of civilization because they EaveS
paced off the steps which separate the Placet"
de I'Opera from.the Gymnasa Theater.- The
thoroughfare is crowded from earty.fn the
forenoon, until long past midnight, the
lights are never out, and some of. the cafes
are forever open. '
Foreigners do not know it, tut the real
Parisian keeps on a certain- side of thi
Boulevard. Going eastward from the Mad
eleine a promenade on the right-hand side as
far as the Place de I'Opera is the proper
thine to do. Then they cross over and ttrnXli:
the north side. Those; who take the,other. 3
are ignorant ol the true' lire of Paris, or araK 1
iu teura u wuiuuc ui me ieii-nantti
side is the capital, on the right, the prov-:
inces. I cannot explain the reason of this
fashion, no more than I conld tell you why;
most people walk up and down Broadwayj
always on one side of that fhoronjrhfjxe
On the popular side are all the places 'To f
aiuuscuieua. xirs. oi ail IS IUB UraBd
rinm? then inn VaniTnlll. T1,-.,.. lil.ti. ,
.nmMnv Ainal t It,. . 4k. tr-J?--!.
and opera bonnes are played by.splea'did'
artistes: then the Gvmnase. wriMi TnV
cn.TanBi;
rtheBosij2
lalasanoe, jg
LMartfa.'-.S
mi
with thft f.vmimnf VffVnlA,f1,.W,L
ton Museum; further on, the Benaissanee,
ana next uoor 10 n ine jrorte Daint.Jasjaa,"
where just now Bernhardt Is the Miataff
iur. .a. icw stepa janaer oh tae M
home of melo-drama, after it tha FoI.
jJramatiques where the Cloches de
ville once ran two rears without sto
The Varietes and the Beanmarchaia are
only theaters on the south side of the Be
vara and they are at least two miles, ai
Ihave mentioned only a few of the many.
tneaters tnat xaris boasts; tne others
scattered here and there throughout'.
city. Henet HAY2TIE.'
la the Elopement -Belt f Keataekyi '
Tourist (out of his way) Ah, titan ernea
some one "on horseback! He ofajMrefiblyl. i
setmengnt. . ?3fjFiaR m
'MSb
Local Lochinvar Sorry, stranger; bnt waj
can't step. Ask her bid man; he'll bealong
in a minute. rucJC.
Poor, Fool ttfi Heni
Xsto is ovrthfl senai ttaa h Sf watotaa
wagil.liiaMrhMBaatoaWaMse
maft.aaatManywmoaofanacltM
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Miiiriiiiilin mi i li mil imTTmim'i 4
wyry anm.ptrTr'j
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