rwTUTTKN ron Tnr dispatco.1
In a narrow, not overly clean street, in
one of the large cities, stood an old, rickety
tenement house, occupied by many poor
families, some of whom had known better
homes; but were compelled by misfortunes
to remove t3 this miserable dwelling. On
the top floor lived 10-year-old Julius with
bis father and mother and little sister Belva.
The children, small as they t ere, had known
much trouble and sufferinjr. They could re
member their pleasant cottage in the conn
try, with its trees and flowers, where they
had been so happy and contented; and they
knew how their father had, through the
treachery ot a pretended friend, lost all, and
was obliged to take his family to this pres
ent wretched dwelling. Then followed sick
ness and poverty, till at last real want came,
and often the good, kind parents wonld put
aside their share of scanty food that the
children might not go huugry.
One cold, blustery evening in midwinter,
the father, sad and disheartened over the
day's fruitless search for work, entered the
dingy room, dimly lighted by a small fire
in the grate, and said: "Wife, I think I
shall go to your rich uncle that lives on the
other side of the Black Forest, and ask aid
from him."
"It would he useless, ray dear husband,"
replied his wite; "you know his heart is
made of stone, and he would only drive you
from his door. Besides, vou must not dare
the horrors of the Black Forest, for at this
time of the vear the woodland sprites play
their wildest sports. Perhaps to-morrow
you will be more successful."
The father sighed deeply, and with a
heavy heart abandoned the project. Bnt
Julius had been an attentive listener lo this
conversation, and all night his braiu was
JULIUS MEETS
busy making plans for the next day. Tak
ing a crust of bread which had been given
him for his breakfast, he ran down the
creaking old steps and out into the street.
After walking a few blocks, he met a kind
looking old gentleman, whom he asked:
"Can you tell me the way to the Black
ForetA?"
The old man seemed astonished, and then
pointed out the wrfy. "Bnt," he added,
"my little man, do not enter those dark
shades; for only terror and fright await
you."
Unmindful of this warning, Julius
hastened away to the gloomy woods, whose
giint oaks never lost the'i dark green
loliage, and through whose spreading
branches the winter's wind whistled mourn
fully. The boy's stout heart almost failed
him as he entered the lonely place. He
teemed to see hideous forms gliding amoog
the trees, and nglydistorted facesgrinning
through the bushes. But remembering the
suffering at home, he whistled merrily and
trudged on, trying to keep his eyes fixed
on the ground that be might not see the
terrors about him. He had gone but a short
distance when he noticed lying directly ac
cross the path a trunk of "a fallen tree, on
which sat a very old man, whose shoulders
were bent as it accustomed to carry heavy
burdens. His old felt hat was drawn down
over his eyes, and he seemed to be resting
from a long walk. He looked curiously at
Julius, and then asked: "Have you any
bread or meat? I am half lamished with
hunger."
Julius showed the crust, which in his ex
citement he had forgotten to eat, and offered
it to the stranger, saying: "I have not
much; but you are welcome to this."
The old man eyed the food for a moment,
and then ate it greedily.
"And now," he said, "how came vou in
the Black Forest; and why do you brave
such dangers?"
Julius soon told his story of the poverty at
home, and ot his intended visit to his rich
uncle. The old man laughed scornfully,
saying: "Ton will get nothing from him
but harsh words. I know him well; and if
you are aeiermmeu to make the attempt, I
shall accompany you to the end of the lor
est; for while with me you will be safe."
Julius thankfully accepted this protec-.
tion, and in the dark shades kept very close
to his guide. Although many curious faces
fieered through the trees and mocking
aughter sounded through the woods, there
was no further evidence of elfish sport.
"When they reached the end of the forest the
old man directed Julius to ids uncle's
house, and then suddenly disappeared.
With beating heart the boy approached
the great stone mansion, and lifted the
heavy brass knocker. When ushered into
the presence of the stern old man, Julius
was so frightened by the keen, forbidding
stare that he almost forgot his errand. But
there was no need to waste words, for when
his uncle had listened unmoved to Julius'
pitilul story, he called the servant and
ordered him to chase the boy from the house,
threatening direlul punishment should he
be found there again. Distressed over his
failure, the thought of again traversing the
Black Forest came to him with new horror;
anu, uirowing nimself on the ground, lie
wept bitterly. Hearing a hoarse laugh, he
looked up and beheld his former friend
standing belore him, who said: "I suppose
you have your gold?"
But whin he observed the boy's grief, he
added: 'Come, cheer up; I can help you,
and you need not return to vour home empty
handed." " J
Julius smiled through his tears, and,
trusting nis guide, followed him through
the lorest, until he stopped be ore a large
hlack cave cut in a rock. The old man
lignted -u pine torch that hung at the en-
saJHSf- a bade Jnhns enter. The flaring
Slight cast great shadows on the wall and
theiund of their lootsteps echoed again
fsuid-acain in the empty hall, i
jJT "Here," said the old man, disclosing a
strong iron chest standing at on end of the
fflE 0&
HEW
cave, "is where I keep my treasure. Here
is gold and to spare. Take what you need;
but mark well the spot and remember that
within a vear the money must be returned,
or ereat distress will fall uPn y.u'
Julius was soon buv filling bis pockets
with the shining gold; but remembering
that the monev was given him only as a
loan, he was careiul to take no more than he
thought he could repay at the appointed
time. Then having again carefully noted
the situation of the rive, he was conducted
by ihe old man through the forest, and was
not long in making his way through the
streets of the city lo his home in the old
tenement house, where his long absence had
caused much anxiety; and the mother was
beginning to fear that her troubles had not
vet come to an end, and she must suffer the
loss of her dear son. But imagine the sur-
Srise and joy in that plain little room when
ulius returned with his treasure, and told
his wonder ul story of the Black Forest, and
ot the little old man who had been so gen
erous with his gold. That night the bright
beaming faces of the happy family made a
pleasing contrast with the sad, distressed
ones of the morning.
The early spring tonnd Julius and Belva
with their father and mother in their old
home in the country, where the children
ronid once more Dlav on the green grass
and gather the daisies "and buttercups. The
mother's pale face grew round and was
tinted with the glow of health, and the
father soon lost his sad, care-worn appear
ance. The little garden was carefully cultivated,
and yielded such abundant crops that long
be ore the time appointed the money was
ready to be returned to the cave in the
forest. And when the year had passed
away, and the day bad come on which
Julius had promised to revisit the Black
Forest, he placed the gold in a bag and set
out on his journey. To his surprise the
forest, instead of bing dark, was brigbt and
THE OLD MAX."
sunny, and instead of hideous, grinning
countenances, he saw friendly faces smiling
upon him. When he reached the cave the old
man was not there; but he left the bag of
gold and returned home. As he approached
the place where the cottage had stood, he
saw a magnificent palace, from whose
windows poured forth a flood of light At
the door he was met by his mother, who
handed him a large golden key on which
was written in jeweled letters, "Peace and
plentv will always be yours. To Julius,
from the Old Man of the Forest"
Paysik,
WHITTIEE'S MOCKING BIED.
The
Benntr That Filled ibe Poet'a Home
With Sonic for 25 Tear.
I was reminded recently, says a writer in
the New York Herald, of an incident re
lated to me on the occasion of a visit to the
fioetWhittier at his home at Oak Knoll a
ittle over a year ago. It was the sage of
Danvers' 80th birthday, and while he was
receiving a group of literary dignitaries in
his cozy parlor. I was having a delightful
chat with his charming little 18-year-old
niece Phoebe in the library.
Phoebe's love for the domestic pets is only
second to that for her uncle, and it was with
intense pride that she exhibited the great
black cat, whom she christened Kip Van
Winkle in Joe Jefferson's honor, and the
mocking bird whose songs in many keys are
scarcely less tuneful than those of the gray
bearded Quaker.
The cat and the bird are in perfect accord,
and together with the magnificent New
foundland, who is alwavs at Mr Whi.,i.'.
side, form as Phcebe says, "a perfectly
happy family of three.
"How old is he?" Phcebe repeated, when
I asked about the Uiru's aee; "oh he is
eyer so many years ahead of me," with a
olush and a laugh, and then sh tnu f
a visit paid to Oak Knoll some time belore
by a rather pretentious Boston gentleman,
who had remarked as he entered the library
Ah, I see you indulge in the luxury of a
mocking bird. Well, sir, mark my words,
you II not keep him long."
To this saee observation Mr. Whittier re
plied dryly, "No, indeed, I fear not He
has been in the lamily lor more than 25
years now."
Whether that bird is still in the land of
the living is more than I can tell, but the
fact or the possibility of a mocking bird's
longevity is to my mind well established, if
only on bright-eyed Phoebe's authority.
INDIVIDUALITY XS IT.
Even the Typewriter Can't be Depended on
to Conceal One' Identity.
"Even typewriters cannot be depended
upon to shield che annoymous little writer
who sends insulting messages" remarked
Dr. INofsinger, Postmaster ot Kansas City,
to a Times reporter the other day. "Every
one has stock phrases and catch words
which would be prettv sura f' .....i him
after awhile. Tnen a man's identity is dis
cernible in his punctuation in ,. ,.,...
in which he strikes the keys of the machine,
,. if iJ "i,"lak-es maae. it is pretty
u., u.. .. - ujuu io get away irom himselt
and to conceal his identity so that he would
not at the same time be discovered."
CAUSE OP SEA SICKNESS.
The Latest Theory ! Thnt the Blood Ha
BInch to Do With It.
The causes and philosophy of sea sickness
Have always been a great puzzle;but the most
generally received theory at present is that
the trouble is due to the inequality of
presiure in the blood vessels. In a craft
tossing on the waves the blood is made to
flow first thisway and then that, naturally
producing disturbance. As for remedies
nothing' has been discovered that is more
effectivetban the traditional piece of salt I
J
yurjk ua Mic ffiu ui a smug.
if
BEYELATION A FACT.
J Another of the Inferences From the
Existence of a Creator.
TEDTHS WE CAHNOT DISCOVER.
God's Chosen People Learned Gntdnallj,
Kotm a Single Hour.
TESTIMONY OP THE OLD PROPHETS
I WKUTCir TOR TII DIBrjLTCn.1
To-day the series of studies in the argu
ment for God comes to an end. Onr study
began with the three stages of the argu
ment itself first cause, then nature, then
man. The conclusion was that there is a
first cause, and that an examination of its
effects as seen in nature and in man shows
that this first cause is intelligent, self-Je-tcrmining,
personal and righteous. For the
effects of a cause are contained iu the cause.
Such an effect as personality argues person
ality in the cause.
Then we took up three great difficulties
which lie in the way of this argument:
First, the difficulty which is urged by the
materialists, and which centers about the
doctrine of evolution; then, the difficulty
which is urged by the agnostics, and which
centers about the limitation of human
thought; and finally, the difficulty which is
urged by the pessimists, and which ce. ia
about the problem of pain. Tbcsedifficulties
we examined, and found in them more help
than hindrance. The stumbling blocks were
discovered to be stepping-stones, involution
was seen to emphasize the argument for
God by revealing God as ever-present and
ever-acting in the world's history. Agnos
ticism was seen toemphasizetheargumentfor
God by uplifting our conception of God,
and revealing Him as one who is all the
best that we can conceive of, and infinitely
more. Pain, even, was seen to emphasize
the argument for God, by revealing God's
righteous, wise and loving purpose even in
those events in human life which tempt us
into doubt
THE THREE INFERENCES.
Finally we studied the inferences which
follow from the fact of God's existence.
First, the inference as to prayers; then the
inlerences as to miracles, and finally coming
to our subject for to-day, the inference as to
revelation. Prayer we showed to be natural,
beiptul and effectual. Miracles we showed
to be not only possible and probable, but
actually (citing one eminent instance) veri
fiable. Our studies in this subject are to
day with the inference as to revelation.
Revelation is the communication to a man
of a truth which he either did not or could
not find out for himself. There are two ways
by which we get a knowledge of truth, by
discovery and by revelation. The differ
ence is in the person of the messenger who
brings the truth. In discovery we are the
messengers. In revelation somebody else
is. Discovery is what we find out by onr
own senses. Revelation is what somebody
tells us.
Now, revelation in the senses in which It is
used in theology means truth which is com
municated not only to an individual, but to
the race, which no man conld have found
out Apart from all speculation, reasoning,
philosophy, discovery, are certain truths
which were not only not aimed at along the
path, but which were simply told by God to
man. They came into the world Irom tne
outside. This is the assertion of religion.
WITHOUT IT AM, IS GUESSTVOBK.
The importance of this assertion of reve
lation is plain at once. Bevelation is ab
solutely essential to assured religion. Be
cause without it religion is only a series of
guesses. It rests on the uncertain founda
tions of opinion and emotion. That is the
very best that can be said of it Without
revelation, the whole idea of God is like the
strange specters seen in the mists of the
Brocken. God is only the reflection of man.
God is but the magnified shadow which man
casts upon the clouds. At any moment, by
a new discovery, by a change of feeling, all
religion may be swept away. Without reve
lation, without an unmistakable assurance
from God, all is uncertain.
Is revelation possible? The question is
already answered when we affirm the exist
ence of God. For who will doubt as lo
whether or not God can reveal Himself? Is
God dumb? Cannot God do what we can?
He who made the lips and voice of man,
cannot He speak? And if it is further
debated as to whether or not man could
understand a revelation from God conld
distinguish it, that is, Irom his
own thoughts this we see after a moment's
thinking, is onlv another form of the first
question. Can God make Himself under
derstood? is the same as, can God speak? To
such question everybody who believes in
God can give but one answer. The answer is
"yes." Bevelation is possible?
AND PROBABLE, TOO.
Is revelation likely? Again the same
truth about bod answers the question. This
wise, holy, loving and supreme Being, who
has created a man with a conscience to dis
cern between right and wrong, with an as
piration to know the will ot the Most High
and to do it is it likely that He would
stop there? Think what conscience means.
It means that sin displeases and goodness
pleases God. Conscience is an affirmation
of personality. It is an instinct by which
we know that there is a relation between us
and a Personal Being above us, a relation
strengthened by our righteons actions, and
strained by sin. Conscience interprets virtue
as obedience and transgression as disobe
dience. Conscience points to God.
Now, this righteous God whom conscience
declares, will He stop with only this much
of a revelation of Himsell ? Will He not
tell us what His will is, that we may do it?
Will He not somehow satisfy this aspiration
which He has set in our hearts to know
Him? That W'so likely that if there were
no further revelation ol God, such a strange
lack would prompt the great question,
Why ? If God is, why does He not tell us
plainly? If God desires us to obey His
will, why does He Hot teach us clearly ?
Nothing is more unlikely than that God
should hide Himselt out ot men's sight and
hearing in an eternal and unbroken silence.
That would be the difficulty of difficulties.
Bevelation follows naturally along the lines
of the affirmation of God.
THE FACT OF REVELATION.
Bevelation then is probable and likely,
but is it a fact? Is there anywhere a reve
lation of God?
It is evident, of course, that the great
truths of religion came to each of us as a
revelation. They were not discovered by us.
From our parents, from our teachers, from
our Bibles we learned what we know about
God. That, as a matter of fact, is the actual
way in whioh this knowledge came to us.
Somebody told us. But go back behind
that Who told our teachers? And their
teachers did these truths come to them by
revelation or by dreaming? And, since we
find that these truths were revealed to them,
how did the revealers find ont truth? Back
and back we go, and, so far as the great
truths of religion are concerned, it is revela
tion all the way, and nowhere discovery.
Here are five great assertions of religion
(1) theiact ol God, (2) the fact of duty" (3)
the fact of providence, (4) the fact of 'salva
tion, (5) the fact ot immortality. Who can
name the discovererof any oncof these greaj
truths? Is not discovery, indeed, uuthink
aole in regard to these? Columbus has an
idea that there is land somewhere over on the
other side, and, having this idea, he pushes
on day alter day until he finds it But
imagine, if you can, a man with no
faintest idea of God discovering God; or
with no glimmer of a difference between
right and wroug, discovering duty; or in
the face of the fact of pain, asserting as a
discovery that God cares for the indi
vidual; or in the face of sin, that God
will forgive; or in the face ot death, assert
ing that there is life alter it. These facts
are undiscoverable. But truths which we
possess, an3(whkh11,wecaanottJtriPC jo,
covery, belong to revelation. The" his
dis-
istory
of the race is parallel with our own history.
The knowledge of the great truths of
religion came from the outside.
RELIGION OF THE RACES.
For consider what it is that we see when
we lookout upon the religious knowledge of
the race. We sea great tracts of people,
having only a dim glimmer of these five
great truths. Some put the emphasis on
one, some on another. In China the im
portant truth is duty; in Egypt, immortal
ity. We see the greatest and wisest souls of
these lands gaining only a little closer
conception of these truths, and not able to
make the common people understand even
the knowledge they have gained. The em
phasized truth is -grasped, perhaps, but all
the rest is dim and vague. Here, we say, is
revelation, but only a glimmer of revela
tion, such as might h.ave come as their
own writings, indeed, indicate from some
ancient and far-away communication of
truth from God to man, dimly remembered.
In all these nations revelation is not only
dim, but unprogressive. It tends rather to
degenerate.
But in the midst of these nations, as they
appeared upon the man of the world 20 cen
turies ago, is one quite different In this
nation the great truths of religion are far
clearer. Every one ot the five is recog
nized. Step by step we can trace in the old
records, which we call the Bible, how these
truths were emphasized, and confirmed, and
made more clear. The unity of God, the
rule of duty, the conception of God as one
who cares, the fact of forgiveness set
out in sacrifices, and by and by
the fact of life certainly, pre
all taught by the teachers of this nation
as they are taught nowhere else on earth.
Presently comes One who both teaches and
embodies all this perfectly, whose teaching,
the race even that part which leads all the
rest of it has not yet learned adequately.
With Christianity the knowledge ot these
great truths begin to spread abroad.
NONE OTHER LIKE IT.
Now notice (1) here is a nation which
does somehow have a clearer knowledge of
truth than any other. We study the great
religions ot history. We compare them all
with this. We compare all other sacred
books with the holy Scriptures of the
Hebrews. The wonder is that there is so lit
tle in the other religions and the other
books. These Hebrew prophets and poets
stand among the sacred poets and prophets
of all other creeds as Plato and Aristotle
stood amidst the crowd of obscure cotempo
rary philosophers. Nobody can be blind' to
the difference.
Theie appears, then, in the history of the
race a nation having a knowledge of relig
ious truth so much fuller and more ade
quate than is had elsewhere that we call it
a special knowledge.
Notice again (2) that among this Hebrew
people this religious knowledge is gradual
and progressive. One ot the objections
which is made to the Old Testament is that
there is so much imperfection in it The
heroes blunder and the saints err, and the
standard of morality is not our standard.
And some men make sharp comments upon
this state of things. But the men who make
the comments misunderstand the condi
tions. The revelation to the Hebrews was
a progressive revelation. And it mnt be
plain that there can be no progress withont
imperfection. Progress is simply an ad
vance from the less perfect to the more per
fect. Nobody who believes in evolution
can consistently fault the Old Testament
It is the frank, straightforward record of
the evolution ot a people.
IT MUSTBE GRADUAL.
Bevelation, indeed, must ot necessity be
gradual. Because the revelation is made
to man, and man can take in truth only in
proportion to his capacity for truth. Man
is a growing animal, and accordingly man's
receptiveness to truth increases. Taking
man as he is, the only way in which a reve
lation can be made to him is by revealing
one truth at a time. After a truth is un
derstood, a second truth can be built up
upon it.
It is perfectly true that God could have
taught all truths to man in the Garden of
Eden. All civilization, all sciences, all re
ligions might have been unfolded to him at
the start But that could have been done in
only one way only be creating a different
kind of man, only bycreating a man in
whose language there should be no such
woids as progress, growth or evolntion. God
conld have revealed His will lully at once,
but only as He could teach partial differen
tial equations to a boy six months old by
creating a new kind ot brain. Questions as
to such possibilities as these and uonderings
why God did thus and not so, can have no
end and no answer. Why any such condi
tion as time at all? Why any race of men?
Why auy world? We might as well stop
before we begin.
RELIGION IS A GROW H.
Here is the point upon which I am insist
ing: In whatever way we may accouut for
the gradualness of growth in religious
knowledge among the Hebrews, its erad-
ualness is a plain fact Beligion grew as
the world grew. Here is a race, alone among
the nations of the earth, which possesses
not only a special kind of theological
knowledge, not possessed elsewhere, but
comes into this possession by regular,
steady, gradual growth.
And now (3) a third point Step by step
in the history of this race came new nrcps.
sions of religious truth where from? Here
is Moses, here is Isaiah, here is Jesus of
Nazareth, each with his new message, and
the last with a message including and tran
scending all the other; what have they to say
for themselves?
All along, century by century, the He
brew prophets with one voice declare that
God has spoken to them. The truth which
they teach came to them, not by discovery,
but by revelation. AVere the men mis
taken? Nothing can be plainer than their
declarations. God has spoken to them.
At last comes Christ to be the revelation of
revelations. Was He mistaken? Or is it
the people who deny that there is anv reve
lation who are mistaken?
Here are the conditions of the question.
God can make a revelation to man; it is al
together likely that God would make a rev
elation to man; some of the wisest, strongest,
clearest-sighted and holiest men who ever
lived said that God did make a revelation
to them. The conclusion is that God has re
vealed Himself, indeed.
George Hodges.
A B0T CABT00NIST.
The ' Wonderful Work of 10-Yenr-OId
Er.kino Williams of London.
Pall Mall Budget
An era of juvenile prodigies seems to have
set it We have child actors and actresses
galore; Otto Hegner is by no means the sole
child pianist; there is even a child violinist
or two; but Erskine Williams.aged 10 years,
is probably the only artist of his aee. He is
professionally known as "Little Erskine, the
Child Cartoonist," and his work is of a very
remarkable discription. Little Erskine is
the son of a sign-painter and letter-writter,
who lives in Stockwell road.
Ever since he could stand upright the
pencil has been his chief toy. He used to
draw flowers and ships, but latterly he has
taken to faces. He uses anything pencil,
chalk, charcoal, oil, water-colors anything
he can get hold of, and recently he has been
trying pastels, but he finds them difficult
work.
Among others, he made a capital sketch
of Mr. Gladstone, a face he is particularly
fond ot portraying. This sketch was set t
by the secretary ofUhe club to Mr. Glad
stone with an account of the precocious
artist By return of post came a postcard,
with the following note in the Grand Old
Man's own handwriting:
Fray present my compliments to the little
artist, and my wishes for every success In his
future operations. Faitbfullr yours.
. W. E. Gladstone.
Mtuhroom Poisoning.
Illustrated American. "I
Mushroom poisoning is so common among
the peasants of Italy thai ruraf dispensaries
keep ready a stock of antidotes. Unfortu
nately, these rarely reach the patient in
time, and deaths of several members ot a
family simultaneously ,a,-au;tf mM 5
quently. - - '
CITI OF THE SULTAN.
Mary J. Holmes Writes Entertain
ingly of Her Visit to It.
DOGS BATE AS NECESSARY EVILS.
How
the Turkish Beauties Cast Sheep's
.Eyes Over Their Veils.
ABDUL HAMID'S LIFE OP ' ANXIETI
WEirrZlf FOB THE DISPATCH.:
It had been raining for two or three days,
and when at last we anchored in the Bos
phorus a white mist lay so thickly on the
hills aroiind us that we could see but little
of the city, except its hundreds of minarets
rising like masts against the gray sky, and
its tall cypress trees which mark the graves
of the dead. As large ships cannot come
very, near the shore, we were lauded in
small boats, and were soon picking our way
through what seemed to be a narrow lane,
but was in fact a street, the dirtiest and
muddiest I ever saw, with narrow sidewalks
and tumble-down houses, which might have
been Btanding when Constantine rebuilt the
city in A. D. 328.
But once out of the lane we were on a
broader, wider street, which wound up the
hill to our hotel, from which an hour
later we started with our guide,
George, to explore the town. Cross
ing the Golden Horn oh the long
bridge which was swarming with p eople,
whose strange, Oriental costumes would
have looked oddly enough to us if we bad not
just come from Cairo, we found ourselves in
Stamboul, the oldest part of Constantinople,
and more interesting to strangers than Gal
ata or Pera, where the hotels are situated
and the buildings more modern. Here in
Stamboul you plunge at once into a laby
rinth of dark, winding, dirty streets, many
of them without a name and apparently
leading nowhere in particular, so abruptly
do they turn and so completely do thev
seem in the distance to be closed up by the
nouses, oi wnicn a writer nas aptiy saia
that they were dropped down any where
and the people left to get round them as
they could.
A CITY PULL OF DOGS.
The streets are crowded with a motley
mass of people, Turks and Greeks, Syrians
and Egyptians, and dogs 300,000 of them,
we were ttld, and they are on the increase
every year. No one owns them; no one pets
them, although many feed them, and you
will often see them prowling around
a pile of refuse thrown out for their benefit,
or lying in the middle of the street and on
the sidewalks, where you step over them
and around them and sometimes on them
with impunity, lor they are very good na
tured and quiet, except after nightfall when
their privacy is intruded upon by one of
their kind. These dogs live iu wards, and
as the Englishman's house is his castle, so a
Turkish dog's ward is his fortress, and woe
to the canine found near it at night, and woe
to the tired tourist when a battle between
the invader and invaded is going on. I
have heard such a battle and know whereof
I write.
Leaving the dogs, of which I counted
nearly 700 in one drive, our first visit was
to the old Seraglio, which stands upon a
high triangular point overlooking the sea
and is the first object you see as you enter
the harbor and the last as you sail away. It
was built by Mohammed II., and is shut in
by lofty walls and gates, and with its suites
ot apartments, its mosques and gardens and
tall cypresses, all thrown together without
the least idea of harmony or order, it covers
a space nearly three miles in circumference.
MYSTERIES OF THE HAREM.
Here the old Sultans kept their court or
harem, which we were told sometimes con
sisted of several hundred wives, a goodly
number for one man to manage, and it is
not st ranee that his own private palace was
outside the gates, where he could flee for
quiet and safety when the domestic cyclones,
which must often have ensued, were at their
height sometimes, it was whispered, when
a wife was very relractory, or he was tired
of her, she was sewed up in canvas and
quietly dropped over the wall into the
waters below, which tell no tales of the
death struggles they have witnessed, or the
dying moans they have smothered.
Occasionally a better fate, as some
might think, await the lair rebel,
who was bestowed upon one of the Sultan's
officers, either as a reward of merit or a pun
ishment, it mattered little which to the im
perious man whose word was life or death
to so many thousands. Bnt the harem is
no longer in the Seraglio; for when the
palace was burned it was removed, and is
now across the Golden Horn in the modern
part of the city. Here the present Sultan,
Abdul Hamid, leads a life of nervous dread
and fear, second only to that of the Czar of
Bussia. Warned by the late of his prede
cessor, Abdul Assiz, who was murdered in
his magnificent palace on the shore ot the
Bosphorus, he is in constant expectation
that a like calamity will some day befall
him, and so he secludes himself as far as
possible from the public, and when on Fri
day, the Mohammedan Sunday, he goes, as
he is compelled to do it he would avoid an
insurrection, to the Mosque, just across the
street, he is
GUARDED BY 7.000 SOLDIERS,
each one of whom he looks upon as a possi
ble assassin. On these occasions there is a
great deal of ceremony and show, and the
officers are gorgeous ia their apparel, but
the Sultan is very plainly dressed in black.
with a cheap red fez upon his head, while
his dark eyes, which look as if sleep were
unknown to them, wander nervously over
the shouting multitude, from which he
shrinks in tear, only breathing freely when
he is safe within the walls of his palace.
Past this palace onr party attempted to
walk, but was ordered back by an official
with fierce gestures, whose meaning we
could not mistake, and so we contented our
selves with going down a side street where
we could look at the building, but not
speak aloud of it or its pitiable, cowardly
occupant, for when we asked some questions,
using the Sultan's name, we were promptly
hushed by our guide, who spoke only iu
wnispers, with a iu reive glance in all direc
tions. What he feared I do not know, but
if ever we were glad for the religion
founded on peace", good will to men, it was
when we stood, that sunny afternoon, not
far from the Sultan's handsome palace, and
thought of all the superstition and distrust
which cluster around the Musselman's
faith.
AT BEAUTIFUL ST. SOPHIA.
The mosque ot St. Sophia, which stands
near the old Seraglio, is, perhaps, the most
interesting building in Constantinople. It
is in the lorm ot a ureeK cioss, and the cen
tral dome is ISO feet above the floor, and
must once have been much higher, as the
gilded cupola could be seen 100 miles out at
sea, and was a landmark lor ships coining
up the harbor. Inside it is very beautiful,
with its columns ot marble and grauite and
porphysy, some brought from Heliopolis
and Ba'albec and Athens, and others irom
the Temple of Diana at-Ephesus. Near the
entrance is the marble lountain where the
laithiul were washing their feet, while we,
the infidels, the Gentile dogs, shuffled about
iu large felt shoes, closely followed by an
attendant, who seemed to have a special
antipathy to mysell as the only woman in
the party.
As a rule Mohammed women are not ad
mitted to the mosques, and when they are
they usually sit iu the galleries, with their
faces veiled and only tneir brigbt eyes
visible to the mascnline crowd below. We
were fortunate in reaching the mosque at
an hour when so many were prostrating
themselves before the shrine of Mecca iu
prayer, while in a corner a. young priest
was expounding or reading the Koran to a
group of boys, who were repeating the
S'-rOHia 4o2aJlopd,'in$i.sonBf)nasal
ne, accompanied with a swaying nack
and forth of the body, u they kept time
to the doleful singsong.
THE SWEATING PILLAR.
Here we saw the sweating pillar from
Heliopollg, which In summer is sometimes
covered with drops of water, and In which
they told us were the bones of St John.
To this mosque the Sultan is obliged to come
once a year, suffering torture at every step
and looking years older on his return, so
acute are his fears that some act of violence
will be attempted on his person. The Hip
podrome is the most celebrated square in the
citr, but nothing remains of its former
grandeur, except the Obelisk of Ttieodosius,
the pillar of Constantine and the serpentine
column of three twisted serpents.
The bazaars are, very attractive, and
especially the grand bazaar, which is roofed
over aud is a succession of narrow streets
and passages, gaily decorated with the wares
to be sold. Here are crowds of tourists bar
gaining for goods, while the oily-tongued
merchants smile and flatter and offer them
coffee and cigarettes, and always end by
cheating tbem more or less, according to the
shrewdness or credulity ot the buyer.
THE TURKISH BEAUTIES.
Here, too, arc many Turkish ladies closely
veiled, some on donkeys and some on loot,
and some attended by servants, a part of
whose duty it is to report any impropriety
to the master at home. At these women,
some of whom are very handsome, English
and American men stare fearlessly, while
the etiquette of the Mohammedan requires
that he shall turn his eyes away from be
holding the charms which belong to
his neighbor; consequently, a stolen
glance or two, when the woman is
fairer than usual, is all he dares to
indulge in. The ladjes, however, are not
so carefnl, and their eyes, which often have
a coquettish twinkle in them, as if chal
lenging admiration, look curiously over the
veils drawn across the nose, and which, as
they are olten of some white, thin material,
scarcely conceal the features they are in
tended to hide.
It would take too long, in an article like
this, to tell of all we saw in that strange
city built on many bills, with oue hand
touching Asia, where Scutari lies, and the
other holding a part of Europe in its grasp.
The days we spent there were delight ul
days and full of interest, and they come
back to me over and over again, as does the
lovely sunset which shown on mosque and
dome and minaret and palace, and gave to
sky and sea a brilliant coloring ot violet
crimson as we sailed in the golden light
through the Bosphorns and out upon the
Marmora on our way to Athens.
Mary J. Holmes.
BOULANGEE'S AMBITION.
With a Gun Tfant Wonniln, but Doesn't Kill,
He Will Win a Crown la Africa.
New York World.
"You were surprised to hear that General
Bonlanger intended to go to Alrica?" asked
a Frenchman of me at dinner a few nights
since.
"I was indeed. What does he hope ac
complish by such a move?"
My companion looked mysteriously wise
for a moment, then, lighting a cigar, said:
'The world does not know Bonlanger. He
is the most ambitious man the race has seen
since the First Napoleon passed away.
Bonlanger has not been quiet on the Isle of
Jersey. He has conceived a great project
whereby he hopes to win a crown. He has
gathered around him many ot the most des
perate men in Europe. He has determined
to drive the Germans and English out of
Africa."
Among the men who followed Bonlanger
to Jersey, was a clever but ill-regulated
American who invented the most terrible
weapon yet constructed. It works some
what on the principle of a gatliog gun,
but instead of discharging cartridges
loaded with large balls it sends into the
ranks of the enemy at every turn ot
the crank thousands of small shot
about the size of shoe buttons, but peculiar
in shape. They are round at the base and
taper down to a fine point. If three or four
ol them strike a man they give bimsuch ex
cruciating pain that he becomes at once un
fitted for further duty. Now, a wounded
man is more detrimental to an army in ac
tion than one who is killed outright
Blinded, crazed by the discharge from the
'Bonlanger gun, as it has been named, a
hundred thousand men would be powerless
before a small company armed with the new
weapon."
"I ree. And what is Boulanger's plan of
action?"
"Heintends to take ten of the new gnns
with himto Africa and a force ot 1,000 men.
He will join the French troops now in ac
tion against the King of Dahomey, and by
the influence of his immediate success
against that monarch will gain the adher
ence of all the French soldiers in the Dark
Continent. He will then begin hostilities
against the English and Germans and, when
he has made himself master of Africa, he
will set sail for France."
MAKING PLASTEE CASTS.
Bow Cople of Famous Works Are Secured
For the Great Galleriei.
"We get our plaster casts of celebrated
statnes and other art works from the great
museums of the world, in Borne, Berlin,'
Paris and London," said the curator of the
Corcoran gallery to a Washington Star re
porter. "In those great institutions per
haps not more than half a dozen iu number
are gathered practically all of the important
original antiques iq existence. If it is a
statue from the British Museum that we
want we are obliged to send to a dealer
named Brecciani, who is the only person
permitted to make casts of art objects in
that institution. A bust of Cffisar is worth
SI 0, a fragment of an ancient frieze the
same amount, a reproduction of the cele
brated 'Disk Thrower' $37, a caryatid $30
and a whole harpy tomb $45. The last, of
course, is a particularly elaborate Diece.
When we want anything in the way of a
cast we send on an order, just as for any
other kind of merchandise.
"The making of a cast from a statue is aD
exceedingly difficult affair. For the head
and face alone 0 or 60 pieces are required
to make the'mold; the ear will very likely
take 12 pieces. Work is begun, sar, by
placing one scraD of moist plaster of piris
over a small section of the face, t-iking care
not to cover any more surface than the plas
ter when hardened can readily be with
drawn from without breaking. When this
piece has become hard it is permitted to re
main sticking to the statue, while another
scrap of plaster is applied to an adjoining
section of surface.
"In this way the task slowly progresses
until the statue is covered with hard plaster,
the bits being separated from each other by
a sort of shellac on their edges, which pre
vents them from sticking together. After
this has been accomplished it only remains
to remove the pieces of plaster, which fit
together, into the shape of the desired
mold."
BEFLEX NEBVEACTIOK.
How a Swnllow of Ico Cream Will Came
Shnrp Pain In the Temple.
Why is it that upon taking an imprudently
large mouth 'ul of ice cream one is apt to
feel a sensation of violeut pain in the tem
ple? says a writer in tbe Washington Star.
The ice cream, when such a big mouthful of
it is iuciutiously swallowed, produces a
chilling effect upon the nerves of the larynx,
or "voice box," aud of the pharynx, in the
throat The sensation shooU back to the
center o' those nerves in the brain; but
theie it finds a side connection with the
great facial nerve that starts from in front
ot the ear and extends its brunches over the
side of the face.
One branch of this facial nerve, extend
ing across the temple, is a nerve of sensa
tion, while the other branches are nerves of
motion, governing chiefly the play of the
mouth. The pain from the chill is side
tracked along the nerve branch that tra
verses the temple and tbe feeling is likely
to be quite agonizing in that locality for a
moment or so, very likelv involving the
eyeball sympathetically. This feeling of a
sensation JApu&ptve when, another nerve I
is attacked 11 wnat u canea "renex action.
THE FIRESIDE SPHINI
A Collection of EnlanaM Hats for
Hern MfE
Address commuiications for this department
to E. R. Chasboukn. Lewislon, Hame.
. 1091 AH APOLOGY.
-XqQ -X.SS
1). M.H.
1092 CHARADE.
Some sixty years ago a lass
Belonging to the peasant class
A Polish girl was dancing gay, .
Alone, npon the Sabbath day.
When a schoolmaster, passing by.
Chanced this fair, lively girl to spy.
He watched her In her frolickin?.
And while she danced he heard her sing;
The tune he noted down with care.
Because ft seemed such pretty air.
Such orfgin haj, first, a dance
That soon grew popular in France,
And thence it spread till it became
One that acquired a world-wide fame.
Lastii a garment one that's common.
And may le worn bv man or woman.
Who emay be worn by ladies fair,
Bnt it is what no man nonld wear.
In name of nrst we plainly see
The kind of last that whole most be.
NXLSOHIAX.
1093 TRAKSPOSITIOlf.
Weary of the care and sorrow.
Weary of the constant pain;
I wonld pass away to-morrow
With the changes I might gain.
Short, at best, the life Defore us.
We mutt live It to the end
Primal thoughts that hover o'er us,
(Wnich like lightningstrokes descend.
True, there comes a strong temptation;
'lis to end tins ceaseless strue:
Whether rich or great our station,
Whether old or young in life.
Years cannot our hope once brighten.
When the joys of life have fled.
Nanght can then our burdens lighten
' Till we're numbered with the dead.
Yet there is a silver lining.
Yet there comes a quiet morn;
Why this ceaseles-, sad replniDgT
Time will heal the heart-strings torn.
And oursptrir.ytnal, soaring
To the realms of brightest day,
Shall in measures sweet adoring.
Pass the cycling years away.
H. c. Buboes.
1094 DIAMOND.
L A letter. 2. Angry. 3. Having long and
heavy balr. i. An arbor. 5. JIanco-nsh. 8.
Low plants having fleshy roots. 7. Detracted.
8. Doomed. 9. Taught (Obs). 10. Gloomy.
IL A letter. Dominie.
1095 syncopation-.
The whole and last seemed to agree
Like tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee;
'Twould bother Crabb to find fn these
A difference: they're ULe two peas.
The variance is so slight and dim.
Each seems the other's synonym;
And yet I own, for it is true.
There's some distinction 'twixt the two.
Though self-conceit each seem, to show
In tnose who tneir own trumpet blow.
One's self to ever aggrandize.
Is just what whole, no doubt implies.
Although one thinks he's number one.
In talk 'tis best self-praise to shun.
List is self-love, the kind that leads
To reference to other's'dceds;
To judging them with self iu view.
And telling just how jou feonld do.
For what it's worth take what I say;
I have defined in Webster's way.
Nslsosias,
1096 DOUBLE cross-word.
In "sparer" .
In "square;"
In "proner"
In "drone?
In "pray;"
In "stray."
People rant about tbe total.
Published widely In onr land.
Ministers and earnest Christians,
Others of the pious banc
Now we think them quite too sweeping
In their efforts to reform:
Yet they do It all sincerely.
And the contest waxes warm.
H. C. Behqer.
1097 double acrostic.
Words or S I'tters.
L A dancer. 2. To acquaint with. 3. Ele
gant (Obs). 4. A genus bf small trailing
plants Including tbe ground ivy. 5. A player.
6. An exudation of spume found on some
Jilants, especially about the joints of the
avenderand rosemary.
PrimulsA young servant
Finals notorious. Glass.
1098 ANAGRAM.
I asked a person who seemed droll
For information zbontr whole.
He said 'twas a fantastic part
Of style employed in painting art
And then another one I beard
Ask him the meaning of the word.
He answered: "It is my conjecture
That it refers to architecture,
A kind that modern Roman taste
Has materially debased."
And then I listened wbile a third
Inquired about this curious word.
Tbe man immediately replied,
That 'twas to literature allied.
And that it means what Is romantic,
I thought tho fellow was pedantic.
And nothing more 1 cared to hear.
Because he seemed a "man so outer."
.Nelsoxiax.
1099 curtailment.
A total takes part In a one
Where people or animals run;
He may not win tbe first
Though he strive till be burst;
Then bis backers will vow they're undone.
Botes Sweet.
1100 NUMERICAL.
More fs 5, 6, 1. 7 8
Than meet the eye, I here will state.
If yon 4, 2, 3, 6 your views
On others, a good total choose;
For shallow proofs are mere pretense.
And may to wise men give otfente.
BlTTIS SWSZT.
ANSWERS.
10S1 Locke's Essay on the Human Under-standinc.
1083 Sum-mar-y.
1034-D I S M E M B E B
INTERIOR
S T O N E R S
MENACE
ERECT
MIRE
BOS
E R
R
1085 Discontinue.
1086 E, cat amaranth: The Catamaran.
1087 S II U N I. E s 8
HOBX7 I SH
A8 8INKOO
MONAROHO.
1088 Rarefaction.
10891. Crapes. 2. Scrape. 3. Capers.
acers.
1090 Main, mac;
CRAMPS AND STITCHES.
Tbe Cnme U Contraction of the Itlnselee
From Eiihvr Cold or Fatigue.
Washington Evening Star.
Doubtless you have on occasions waked
up in the night with a fearful pain.in the
calf of your leg and found the muscles
drawn up iu a knot This "cramp, "as it is
called, ,is simply a contraction of the
muscles caused by cold or fatigue. Irrita
tion of any sort, however, may bring it on,
by an electric current, for instauce, which
will render the subject experimented upon
incapable of extending the limb affected.
A "stitch in the side" is the same sort of a
cramp attacking other muscles; a "crick in
the neck" is a contraction of the muscles of
the ueck owing to cold.
A slight wrench in the neck will oft
times produce a most agonizing sensation of
burning, one or more of the many ligaments
that fasten tbe head securely in position
having been strained for a moment .Every
one has felt the pain in the side that comes
from rnnning lor a distancept ia simply a
ipasmothamusojes of.tbe diaphragmifroon
violent and unaccustomed exercise.' '
Hgw ADVKRTisxanrjrrg.
MOST
Important Announcement
New Story
by
William Black.
A NEW8PAPEB NOVEL.
DEALING WITH COTEMPORABY lAVl
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.
Specially Secured for the
Columns of
THE DISPATCH.
We have pleasure In announcing to onr read
ers that we have secured for publication in the
columns of The Dispatch a new work of Ac
tion by Mr. William Black an author univer
sally admired his forthcoming wore belne,
moreover, specially written for newspaper pub
lication and designed to Interest all classes.
The story Is altogether new and unpublished,
and as it deals to some extent with present day
events and characters, its publication from
week to week will arouse the ntmost attention.
William Black's
New Novel
WILL BE ENTITLED
'STAND FAST,
j
CKAIG-ROISTOtf,"
And tbe story it will tell will be as unconven
tional as the title of the work. "Stand Fast,
Craie-Royston,"fs the family motto of one of
the characters lotrodnced by the author and a
very Interesting; original and breezy sort of In
dividual he proves himself to be. Bnt bis great
est claim upon tbe reader lies in the fact that
his daughter is the heroine of the story. Will
iam Black's heroines are amonz the most de
lightful creations in our literature, and the
heroine of the present story is equal to the best
ol her charming predecessors. "Stand Fast,
Cralg-Royston," whatever else it may be. Is
first and foremost
A Love Story,
Introducing Scotch Poetry and Saxon Prose,
American Girls and English Aristo
crats, Theoretical Socialism and
Practical Politics.
A STORY TO BE READ.
THE AUTHOR 07
"STAID FAST,
0KAIG-K0YST0JT
Mr. William Black.
Mr. WILLIAM BLACK, the author of "A
Princess ot Thole," "Sunrise," eta, was born a I
little short of 0 years ago, in Glasgow. Hisl
youthful ambition was to become an artist, bnt'
eventually be drifted Into journalism, of which
he may still be considered a distinguished and
successful representative. He located himself,
in London in 1861. As a newspaper representa
tive he went through the Prussia-Austrian War
of 1S6S. "In Silk Attire." produced In 1869,
dealt with peasant life in the Black Forest "Kil
meny,"The Monarch of MinclngLane" and "A
Daughter of Heth," followed in the order named
and ran through many editions. Next cams
"The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton,"wbicbs
literally described a drivtnc excursion the
author made from London to Edinburgh, with,
a thread of fiction interwoven. It is said that
a good many people. Americans chiefly, have
adopted this plan of exploring the English
counties, and have taken these "Adventures"
as a sort of guide book. A glance through the
author's list of published works reveals that nis
later stories appeared in the following sequence:
"A Princess of Thnle." "The Maid of Kileena,"
"Three Feathers," "Madcap Violet," "Green
Pastures and Piccadilly." "Mscleod of Dare,"
"White Wings: A Yachting Romance," "Son
rise: A Story of the Times," "That Beautiful
Wretch," "Shandon Bells," "White Heather."
"The Wise Women of Iverness," "Sabiaa
Zembra," "In Far Lochaber."
'STAND FAST,
0RAIG-R0YST0N,"
Wil 1 prove to be as clever and as successful
as any of the works preceding It from the
same gifted source.
POINTS OF THE NEW BER1AL,
Publication ot which begins in The Dispatch
af i
1 1) 1
flilil i
SUNDAY, JULY 6, 1890. 1
The heroine Is a young American gizl of
Scotch descent, who has traveled much and who
has a charming simplicity and independence of
character.
Tho story Is full of Interest and the move
raent is steady and continuous. Tbe perusal of
the opening chapters gives promise of same
surprising situations in the near future. The
hero is a young fellow of means, wltb brilliant
prospects in the political world; bis father Is a
millionaire with socialistic theories.
Tho love story which the author has to tell it '
of a most original kind, and requires for Its
elaboration several Interesting personages. In
cluding a family of Americans and several
fashionable notabilities In London.
The political characters introduced can al
most be recognized as counterparts of people
now living. We have copious references In the
mouth of an old Scotch poet to the claims of
Scotland In song and story, and as a back
ground we have fashionable life In Mayfair, at
iiemey ana .Brignton, laoor and co-operative
congresses in various parts of the country, and
a characteristic leader of the masses In s
North Country man named Ogden. "Stand
Fast Cralg-Royston" possesses a powerful and
exciting clot and will appeal strongly to ail
classes ot readers.
William Black's
LATEST, BEST AND MOST POWESfUZ
STOUT,
"STAND FAST,
CEAIG-KOYSTON'
WILLCOMMENCE PUBLICATION IN THS
COLUMNS OF THH DISPATCH ON
SUNDAY, JULY 6, 1890.
JS-Aeents should send ia orders early. Lovers
of High Class Literature who desire to read
THE BEST SERIAL announced so far this
season, should mall orders for THE DIS
PATCH, or call in person. Corner SmlthfUld
anauDlaaondfsetreets, PltufcttrgyPa. lei-?
snous, ua, King &
i
4LJ