Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 44, Decatur, Adams County, 17 January 1896 — Page 7

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CHAPTER XlX—(Continued.) Paul’s first movement was toward Aube with extended hands, but she shrank from him as if mistrusting her own powers, giving her a reproachful look, i Paul turned to Nousie. “Madame Dulau," he said, quietly, “1 owe you an apology for my behavior yesterday. Believe me I was so overcome .by surprise that I hardly knew what I said. You forgive me?” “I have nothing to forgive,” replied Nousie. “Your surprise was natural.” “Then let me be brief and speak out ns a man should under these circumstances. Madame Dulau, your daughter has been my sister’s friend and compnnhion for years.” K “I know.” f “And almost from a boy, though I rareI ly saw her, I grew up to love your child. lOf the proof of that love for her, which | she knows well, I need say nothing more nthan that I have followed her across the I sea to ask your consent to our marriage. I Give it to me; it is for her happiness and Imine.” L Nousie looked at him pityingly, and fthon m at her child, who was deadly pale. ■ “Aube, dearest," she said, softly, “you ■ are your own mistress; what shall I Isay?” I Aube fixed her eyes on Nousie. I. “SJell him, mother, that it is impossible; I that he must think of mo no more, and I that I pray him for my happiness and B yours to bid me, ns dear Lucie’s friend land sister, good-by forever —now, at once, |S’pdgO.” ; - ; I She kept her eyes fixed upon her moth- ■ er, and there was not a tremor in her I voice as she spoke. I i Nousie did not speak, but turned to ■Paul, whose face was set and hard. I “There is no need to repeat the words, Itnadatne,” he said, “for I will not take |them*as being the true utterances of my ■sister’s friend. She could not be so cruel Ito one who loves her ns I do. Well, if it ■is to be like this, I shall stay somewhere ■near to watch over her ami wait.” B “No,” cried Nousie excitedly, “you must ■not stay. Go back! Leave this place. ■Your life is not safe!” I <“I can protect myself,” said Paul, Ikcornfully. “I am not afraid, and I can land jvill protect your child. An unfair influence has been brought to bear upon Bier. I cannot, I will not believe those ■words are from her heart." I "Tell him, mother,” said Aube, faintly, ■'it is true, and that I implore him to Heave Vs in peace.” It “Never,” cried Paul. “You do not know line. Aube, I will stay in spite of everything, • and win you yet. You foolish Bprl,” he continued, “you think because I Kud you in a home like this you ought.to Ifesign me. It is the greater reason why Hive should bo one.” K Aube shook her head. ■ “I know you better,” ho said half laughingly. “Then, Madame Dulau, we will Biot take this seriously. I am refused, Bint if it is a hundred times I shall come lligain—always till I know that Aube Moves another better than I hope and believe she loves me.” t || “No, no,” cried Nousie, “for Aube s ■Lake, for mine, you must go back. I tell ||ou,” she whispered, “your life is not safe ||f you stay.” || “I am not to be frightened away,” said ■’alii, coldly. “It would take far more ■ han a threat of injury to send me back—■lone,” he added with a meaning look at , Kube; and then flushed and hitlm* Hip, fw there wefe horse's paces Hind Bart laid his hand upon his friend's ■rm. , .t, ■ “Steady.” he whispered; “be cqol. RecHjleet where we are.” |f Vfcfol, man; who is to be cool?” whisI icred back Paul, as Saintone entered, I tirelessly glanced at him, and then passed I seem, going over to Aube, smiling at hei I s if hey were the most intimate friends, 1 nd then WNouipe. | “You IO my mother’s note .' he said. I I know'you will make no excuses this I me. Mademoiselle Dulau, the carriage coming along the road, and I am to be ■our escort back.” ■ “if J gay no,” thought Nousie, with an ■xcited look from one to the other, “I Blhonld not have time, and it would kill Kr, fcx>. If I say yes, I may have time.” ■ “Keeping me in suspense,” said SainHiiie, merrily. “Well, how long will Kademoiselle be?” ■ ‘‘l will ask her,” said- Nousie, striving ■Lrd to be calm; and Paul saw, to his ■ge and agony, that a meaning look Hissed between them. Hr'Aube, my child, will you trust me, ■Ki.do what I ask?” whispered Nousie. BL. "Nys eyes said “Yes.” Bl Madame Saintone’s to-day; for I said Aube, with her eyes dilatKl ■ /'nt it—for my sake.” MMo. ( mother,” she said, slowly. “I Hiii - ■|Sho' ..poke aloud, and Saintone gave ■full a half-contemptuous look, and turnHl away. ■|“Aube,” whispered Paul, going to her Hile, “is this of your own free will?” ■}<Qf my own free will, Mr. Lowther,” H|e said, slowly, and as if speaking in her |Hcp. “Good-by.” HB’aul stepped back, as if ho had been iH-uck some violent blow, and before he Kl recover Nousie and Aube had left ■Krooni. !| ... CHAPTER XX. |M<ousie sat in Aube’s room wqtehing iHough the open window. There were H»ee or four people by the buffet where IHerubine was installed, but their voices IHy came in a low murmur, and the H-kness was intense without, as it was mother’s heart. again and again, as she watched r child’s return, she had been rent her position and trying to see

the light—the clear' bright sunshine beyond the present trouble—which should irradiate her child’s life. The complication was terrible. She had brought Aube over there, thinking in her ignorance more of her own happiness than her child's, and yet it had all seemed so simple. She had saved; she was comparatively rich; and she had intended to devote herself to making her child’s life glide onward in peace, whereas she was face to face with the fact that, by a terrible accident of fate, Aube had been thrown into intimacy with the family she most abhorred; and, crowning horror of all, Etienne Saintone, son of the man who had slain her husband, evidently passionately loved her child. Nousie’s brow grow wet and cold as she recalled the terrible night when, by the light of her burning house, she saw George Dulau shot down, and in his dying agony turn upon his murderer—the would-be destroyer of his wife's honor — and deal his enemy his death-blow even as he himself passed away. The idea of a union between the children of two such deadly enemies was fearful to her. She felt that after all these years she could bury her own hatred against Saintone’s son, but to consent to speh a fate for her child was too much. Anti yet by her own act she was crushed. For years past for the sake of the gain it brought her she had been connected with the Voudoux sect, never sharing in their terrible ceremonies, but acknowledged as one of them and familiar with their proceedings. Their power was enormous, and it was under the protection of these people that she had lived and prospered. In a weak moment and tempted by the money Saintone had offered —money to hoard up for her child—she had listened to the young man's importunities, and taken him and his friend to a meeting, and left them after -the introduction to be initiated in the signs and mysteries of the sect, little dreaming how soon Saintone would, on the strength of his brotherhood, and grownjiowerful by the claim he had on those to whom he was joined, make a demand upon her for her assistance, and literally force her to listen to his suit. She had been almost dazed by this turn in. the affair, seeing as she did, ui>on the opening up of a new complication by the arrival of Paul, that Aube loved this young Englishman, but was ready to sacrifice herself, and be devoted to the mother who had suffered so for her sake. “If they would only leave us to ourselves,” thought Nousie, as she.nicked her brain for away out of the difficulty, and pondered on her position. Aube loved I’nul, but he evidently scorned the mother who Ixn-e her, and the surroundings of the girl's home. To force Aube to listen to her lover and the dictates of her own heart was to give her up and die.. On the other hand, to yield to Saintone, as she felt that she must, unless by some help from her Voudoux friends she could set him at defiance, was to see her child among the highest set in the place, beautiful, wealthy and . powerful; and even if .they separated, that separation would not be so great. It seemed the lesser evil, and it was the termination toward which she was being almost insensibly forced. Still she was balanced between the two, when the scale was forced down by Saintone, who whist pered to her that if she did not consent to Aube’s acceptance of Madame Sain- ' JftnCXJm’itrttion he would call on certain *x>f tNfe'Voudoux to help him, and the two young Englishmen would not see the light of another day. “And it would kill her, too,” thought Nousie, with a pang at her heart, as she hesitated no longer, but surrendered to the position, and astounded Aube by her demand. And now, closed in still by the -darkness which yet oppressed her, Nousie sat watching for her child's return, trying to satisfy herself that the course she had chosen was for the best. “Chosen!” she said, bitterly; “into which I am forced. But he loves her, and she may forget.” Shrinking from the union as she did, there was that intense feeling of love for her child that was so hard to combat, and she drew herself up with a sigh of relief at last as she said, despairingly: “If they did not kill him he would take her away and .1 could not bear that, even to see her happy—it is too mueljr-too much to bear.” She had hardly come to this conclusion when there wap the sound of wheels, and she hurried to the door in time to see, in the light cast from the long rooimvnw dow, Saintone helping Aube to alight from his vehicle, and with a degree of reverence which strengthened the mother's willingness to let herself be carried away by what seemed inevitable, bend down and kiss Aube's hand The next moment the girl had glided by her mother into the house, and after speaking sharply to his impatient horse. Saintone turned to Nousie, and laid his hand upon her shoulde?. “Thank you, sister,”, he said, half mockingly. “Tliere, you see I have brought her safely back.' She is an angel, Nousie,” he whispered, “and I love her to distraction.” “You love her?” said Nousie softly, for how, she thought, could she hate the man who loved her child, “Love her! Yes.‘ Who could see her and not love her?” he Whispered, eagerly. “A ly _ mother jug ships.. Jmr. nu d.you see now that it is (or the best.” Nousie Was silent. ' > - “You don’t speak. There, you are angry because I threatened. Well, I did; I swear it; I Would. Do you think I am going to let this wretched, contemptible foreign dog stand in the way of my happiness? I am one of your people, and I joined for power. I have the power now, and they should repiove him from my

path as If ho were a serpent. Well, why don’t you speak ?" “I was thinking,” said Nousie, simply —“of my child.” Ho grasped her shoulder, and placed his lips close to her ear. “No shrinking," ho said, sternly. “I call upon you for help. You shall side with me, and keop those foreign dogs at a distance. It Is to save their lives. Ido not want to go to extremities; but nothing shall move mo now. You must help me. Why, Nousie, you ought to be proud that I nsk you to give her to mo for my wife. I shall be a leader soon, and yonr child will bo one of the greatest ladies of the land. Do you want to see her taken away by this foreigner, never to meet her again?” He had struck the chord which vibrated most strongly in the mother’s breast, and, after a pause, she drew a long and painful breath. “Tell me —promise me not to hurt him—; for Aube’s sake —and I will try." "Try?” he said, scornfully. "I call upon you to help me. As for him. Buh! Let him keep out of my path. There —go to her—talk about me; make her tell you how happy we have made her at she house. She must’soon conic again. The horse is getting fidgety. Stand still, brute! Good-night, sister—mother,” he added, laughingly. “Here, give mo a light for my cigar.” Nousie went in through the veranda and brought out a flame did not oven flicker in the hot, still night; and as Saintone lit his cigar the light was thrown upon Aube’s white face as she gazed out of her window after unintentionally being a witness and a hearer of all that had passed. “Good-night," said Saintone, exultingly, “Take care of my treasure. There, I am quite satisfied with you now. Goodnight.” Nousie stood holding the candle in the veranda as Saintone sprang into his carriage and drove away, and listening to the dying away of the wheels in the dusty, ill-kept road. “It is fate,” she said, with a sigh. “My darling! Would it not fie better if we both could die? Yes,” she muttered, after a pause, as she turned toward the window from which Aube had shrunk away, and the light cast curious shadows upon her stern face, “better if we could die and go to him. We would be happy then, for we should be at peace.” CHAPTER XXL “Pah!” ejaculated Saintone, as he drov slowly along the dark road, “a snake —a worm in my path. Kill him? Not if he keeps out of my way. If he tries to raise his head and sting me, I can crush him now under my heel. The Voudoux is a power stronger than I thought. “My darling! How beautiful she is! Safe and soon. Yes, the Voudoux is a force that shall help me in all my schemes. Get on. brute!” he cried to his horse, which had stoped so suddenly that Saintone was nparly thrown out. “What’s the mater? Hah!” He lashed at the horse sharply, for he had caught sight of a great black figure at its head, but the animal only plunged and shivered, for its bit was held fast. “Don’t hurry, Etienne,” said a voice; and a figure came from the side of the road and laid a hand upon his arm. “I want to speak to you.” “Genie!” cried Saintone, whose heart beat fast. “Yes, Genie. Are you coming home?” “I am going home,” he said, sharply. “Tell that fellow to loose my horse’s head, or something may happen. lam armed.” “But you cannot turn against him,” said the woman, with a laugh; “he is a brother. You see I know.” “Know what?” “Pish!” she said contemptuously, “do you think I do not know you came to me to ask me to take you to a meeting, but I was not going to have you to join us. I did not want you.” “No,” said Saintone, meaningly. “But you are onO of us now, and I tan talk freely. You see I know." “Yes,*’ said Saintone, “and L know, too.” “You wish to quarrel?” said the woman, softly . “but I shall not—not yet,” she added to herself. Then aloud—“ Where have you been to-night?” “Where I pleased.” said Saintone, roughly. “Tell your man to loose my horse, or he may repent it.” “If you wish to die to-morrow, perhaps to-night,” said the womans quietly, “try to injure him. You cannot, but you may trv. Why, Etienne, he could crush you with one hand, and he would at a word from me. I saw her,” she said, with a sudden change in her voice. “I am not blind. Do you think Ido not know—everything. You did not know, but you can know now, I am a priestess among our people, and do you think I am going to let you throw me off as you have?” “Bah! I have no time to talk,” said Saintone. contemptuously. “Priestess? Pish! Genie, you are half niad." “With jealousy —yes, said, viciously, “but you do not know me yet. I’ll tell you where you have been —baek with that white-faced girl. It is to be that creature, is it? I am to be thrown over for her?” “Yes,” he said as fiercely. “If you will have it. lam not afraid of you and your creed. I command, now that lam one of you, and I know,, tod. Go to him. Take him from my horse’s head., I saw you together to-day. He is your lover. Do you think I was going to accept a rival in a black? Stand away!” he roared, and he gave his horse so furious a lash that the great negro sprang aside to avoid a blow from the horse’s hoofs hs the frightened beast bounded forward, and Saintone did not check its gallop till he was close home. (To be continued.) Easy Circumstances. A young man inherited $50,000 from an aunt, and by a course of extravagance and speculation was pretty soon at the end of his fortune, “However," said one of his friends, “Bill isn’t without resources. He has two more aunts.” Like this, but different, was the case of a colored man concerning whom, accordlngito the Yankee Blade, a neighbor of his own race was called to testify in court. “Witness.” said the opposing lawyer, “’You speak of Mr. Smith as ‘well off.’ Just “wlm FiTcT yO^unnemr?—ls he worth - live thousand dollars?” “No, sah.” “Two tliousand?” “No, sah; he ain’t worth twenty-five Cents.” “Then how is he well off?” “Got a wife who Is a aah, and a’ports de hull fanfly, sab,"

I 1 ■ THE CHY OF ARMENIA DR. TALMAGE RELATES HORRORS OF THE MASSACRE. The Turk Places No Value on the Life of a Christian—Heroic Work of Missionaries Duty of the Nations to Stop Persecution. Our Weekly Sermon. It was appropriate that in the presence at his Washington church of the chief men of this nation and other nations Dr. Talmage should tell the story of Armenian massacre. What will be the extent or good of such a discourse none can tel). The text was II Kings xix., 37, “They escaped into the land of Armenia.” In Bible geography this is the first time that Armenfii appears, called then by the same name as now. Armenia is chiefly a tableland, 7,<mk) feet above the level of the sea, and on one of its peaks Noah's ark landed, with its human family and fauna that were to fill the earth. That region was the birthplace of the rivers which fertilized the garden of Eden when Adam and Eve lived there, their only rocif the crystal skies and their carpet the emerald of rich grass. Its inhabitants, the ethnologists tell us, are a superior type of the Caucasian race. Their religion is founded on the Bible. Their Saviour is our Christ. Their crime is that they will not become followers bf Mohammed, that Jupiter of sensuality. To drive them from the face of the earth is the ambition of all Mohammedans. To accomplish this murder is no crime, and wholesale massacre is a matter of enthusiastic approbation and governmental reward. The prayer sanctioned by highest Mohammedan authority and recited every day throughout Turkey and Egypt, while styling all those not Mohammedans as infidels, is as follows: “O Lord of all Creatures! O Allah, destroy the infidels and polytheists, thine enemies, the enemies of the religion! O Allah, make their children orphans and defile their bodies! Cause their feet to slip, give them and their families, their households and their women, their children and their relatives by marriage, their brothers and their friends, their possessions and the race, their wealth and their lands as booty to the Moslems, () Lord of all creatures!” Turks at the Old Business. The life of an Armenian in the presence of those who make that prayer is of no more value than the life of a summer insect The sultan of Turkey sits on a throne impersonating that brigandage and assassination. At this time all civilize! nations are in horror at the attempts of that Mohammedan government to destroy all the Christians of Armenia. I hear somebody talking as though some new thing were happening, and that the Turkish government had taken a new role of tragedy on the stage of nations. No, no! She is at the same old business. Overlooking her diabolism of other centuries, we come down to our century to find that in 1822 the Turkish government slew 50,000 anti-Moslems, and in 1850 she slew 10,000, and in 1860 she slew 11,000, and in 1876.5 he slew 10,000. Anything short of the slaughter of thousands of human beings does net put enough red wine into her cup of abomination to make it worth quaffing. Nor is this the only time she has promised reform. In the presence bf the warships at the mouth of the Dardanelles she has promised the civilized nations of the earth th.at she would stop her butcheries, and the international and hemispheric farce has been enacted of believing what she says, when all the past ought to persuade us that she is only pausing in her atrocities to put nations off the track and then resume the work of death. In 1820 Turkey, in treaty with Russia, , promised to alleviate the condition of Christians, but the promise was broken. In 1839 the then sultan promised protection of life and property without reference to religion, and the promise wis broken. In 1844, at the demand of an English minister plenipotentiary, the sultan declared, after the public execution of an Armenian at Constantinople, that no such death penalty should again be inflicted, and the promise was broken. In 1850, at the demand of foreign nations, the Turkish government promised protection to Protestants. but to this day the Protestants at Stamboul are not allowed to build a church, although they have the funds ready, and the Greek Protestants, who have a church, are not permitted to worship in it. In 1856, after the Crimean war, Turkey promised that no one should be hindered in the exercise of the religion he professed, and that promise has been broken. In 1878, at the memorable treaty of Berlin, /turkey promised religious liberty to all her subjects in every part of the Ottoman empire, and the promise was broken. Not once in all the centuries has the Turkish government kept her promise of mercy. So far from any improvement the condition of the Armenians has become worse and worse year by year, and all the promises the Turkish government now makes are only a gaining of time by which she is making preparation for the complete extermination of Christianity from her borders.Blot Out Mohammedanism. Why, after all the national and continental and hemispheric lying on the part of the Turkish government, do not the warships of Europe ride up as close as is' possible to the palaces of Constantinople and blow that accursed government to atoms? In the name of the eternal God let the nuisance of the ages be wiped off the face of the earth! Down to the perdition from which it smoked up sink Mohammedanism! Between these outbreaks of massacre the Armenians suffer, in silence wrongs that are seldom if ever reported. They are taxed heavily for the mere privilege of living, and the tax is called “the humiliation tax.” They are compelled to give three days’ entertainment to any Mohainmpdan tramp who may be passing that way. They must pay blackmail to the assessor, lest he report the Value of their -property too highly. Their evidence in court is of no worth, and if 50 Armenians saw a wrong committed and one Mohammedan was present the testimony of the one Mohammedan would be taken and the testimony of the 50 Armenians rejected.- In other words, the solemn oath of a thousand Armenians would not be strong enough to overthrow the perj'uryovf-«w ■Mahaamuedan. A professor was-condemned to death for translating the English “Book of Common Prayer” into Turkish. Seventeen Armenians were sentenced to fifteen years iim prisoninent for rescuing a Christian bride from the bandits. This the way die Turkish government amuses itself in time 'of peace. These ®re the delights of Turkish civilization-

But when the days of massaci'e come then deeds are done which may not be unveiled in any refined assemblage, and if one speaks of the horrors he must do so in well poised and cautious vocabulary. Hundreds of villages destroyed! Young men put in piles of brushwood, which are then saturated with kerosene and set on fire! Mothers, in the most solemn hour that ever comes in a woman's life, hurled out and bayoneted! Eyes gouged out and dead aryl dying hurled into the same pit! The slaughter of Lucknow and Cawnpur, India, in 1857, eclipsed in ghastliness! The worst scenes of the French revolution in Paris made more tolerable in contrast! In many regions of Armenia the only undertakers to-day are the jackals ami liyenas. Many of the chiefs of the massacres were sent straight from Constantinople to do their work, and having returned were decorated by the sultan. Turkish Murderers Decorated. To four of the worst murderers the sultan sent silk banners in delicate appreciation of their services, Five hundred thousand Armenians put to death or dying of starvation! This moment, while I speak, all up and down Armenia sit many people, freezing in the ashes of their destroyed homes, bereft of most of their households a-n<l awaiting the club of assassination to put them out of their misery. No wonder that the physicians of that region declared that among all the men and women that were dowrf with wounds and sickness and under their care not one wanted to get well. Remember that nearly all the reports that have come to ns of the Turkish outrages have been manipulated and modified and softened by the Turks themselves. The story is not half told, or a hundredth part told, or a thousandth part told. None but God and our suffering brothers and sisters in that faroff land know the whole story, and it will not be known until, in the coronations of heaven, Christ shall lift to a special throne of glory these heroes and heroines, saying, “These are they who came out of great tribulation and had their robes washed sttid made white in the blood of the Lamb!” My Lord and my God, thou didst on the cross suffer for them, but thou surely, O Christ, wilt not forget how much they have suffered for thee! I dare not deal in imprecation, but I never so much enjoyed the imprecatory songs of David as since I have heard how those Turks are treating the Armenians. The fact is, Turkey has got to be divided up among other nations. Os course the European nations must take the chief part, but Turkey„ought to be compelled to pay America for the American mission buildings and American school houses she has destroyed and to support the wives and children of the Americans ruined by this wholesale butchery. When the English lion and the Russian bear put their paws on that Turkey, the American eagle ought to put in its bill. Missionary Heroes. Who are these American and English and Scotch missionaries who are being hounded among the mountains of Armenia by the Mohammedans? The noblest men and women this side of heaven, some of them men who took the highest honors at Yale and Princeton and Harvard and Oxford and Edinburgh; some of those women, gdhtlest and most Christlike, who, to save people they never saw, turned their backs on luxurious homes to spend their days in self-expatriation, say- ’ ing good-by to father and mother and afterward good-by to their own children, as compel them to send the little ones to England, Scotland or America. I have seen . these foreign missionaries in their homes all around the world, and I stamp with indignation upon the literary blackguardism of foreign correspondents who have depreciated these heroes and heroines who are willing to live and die for Christ’s sake. They will have the highest thrones in heaven, while their defamers will not get near enough to the shining gates to see the faintest glint of any one of.the twelve pearls which make up the twelve gates. This defamation of missionaries is augmented by the dissolute English, American and Scotch merchants who go to foreign cities, leaving their families behind them. Those dissolute merchants in foreign cities lead a life of such gross immorals that the pure households of the missionaries are a perpetual rebuke. Buzzards never did believe in doves, and if there is anything that nightshade hates it is the water lily. What the 550 American missionaries have suffered in the Ottoman empire since 1820 I leave the archangel to announce on the day of judgment. You will see it reasonable that I put so much emphasis on Americanism in the Ottoman empire when I tell you that America, notwithstanding all the disadvantages named, has now over 27,000 students in day schools in that empird and 35.000 children in her Sabbath schools, and that America has expended in the Turkish empire for its betterment over $10,000,000. Has not America a right to be heard? Aye! It will be heard! 1 am glad that great indignation meetings are being held all over this country. That poor, weak, cowardly sultan, whom I saw a few years ago ride to his mosque for worship, guarded by 7,000 armed men, many of them mounted on prancing chargers, will hear of these sympathetic meetings for the Armenians, if not through American reporters, then through some of his 360 wives. ' What to do with him? There ought to be some St. Helena to which he could be exiled, while'the nations of Europe appoint a ruler of their own to clean put and take possession of the palaces'Of Constantinople. To-night this august assemblage in the capital of the I'nited States, in the name of the God of nations, indicts the Turkish Government for the wholesale assassination in Armenia and invokes the interference of Almighty God and the protest of eastern and western hemispheres. Duty of the Hour. « But what is the duty of the hour? Sympathy, deep, wide, tremendous, immediate! A religious paper. The Christian Herald of New York, has led the way with munificent contributions collected from subscribers. But the Turkish goveriunent is opposed to any relief of the Armenian sufferers, as I personally know. Last August, before I had any idea of becoming a fellow citizen with yop Washingtonians, $50,000 for Armenian .relief was Offered me if 1 would personally take that relief to Armenia. My passage was tojbte engaged on the City of Paris, but a telegram was se.nt to Constantinople, asking if gnrflt me protection on such an errand of mercy. A cablegram said the Turkish government wished to kpow to what points in Armenia I desired to go with that relief. In pur reply four cities were naihed, one of them the scene of what had been the chief massacre. A cablegram came from Constantinople saying that I had better send the

money to the Turkish government’s mixed commission, and they would distribute it. So a cobweb of spiders proposed a relief for unfortunate flies! Well, a man who would start up through the mountains of Armenia with $5<»,<XM) and no goy> ernmentai protection would be guilty of monumental foolhardiness. ‘ The Turkish government has in every possible way hindered Armenian relief. Now where is that angel of mercy, Clam Barton, who appeared on the battlefieldn of Fredericksburg, Antietam, Falmouth and Cedar Mountain, and undor the blaze of French and German guns at Metz and Paris and in Johnstown floods, and Charleston earthquake, and Michigan, fires, and Russian famines? It was comparatively of little importance thafthe German emperor decorated her with the Iron Cross, for God hath decorated her in the sight of all nations with a glory that neither time nor eternity can dim. Born in a Massachusetts village, she came in her girlhood to this city to serve our government in the patent office, but afterward went forth from the doors of that patent office with a divine patent, signed and sealed uy God himself, to heal all the wounds she could touch and make the horrors of the flood and fire and plague and hospital fly her presence. God bless Clara Barton! Just as I expected, sh» lifts the banner of the Red Cross. The Red Cross of Mercy. Turkey and all nations are pledged to respect and defend that Red Cross, although that color of cross does not, in the opinion of many, stand for Christianity. In my opinion it does stand for Christianity, for was not the cross under which most of us worship red with the blood the Son of God, red with the best blood that was ever shed, red with the blood poured out for the ransom of the world? Then lead on, O Red Cross'. Ana let Clara Barton carry it! The Turkish government is bound to protect her, and the chariots of God are 20,000, and their charioteers are angels of deliverance, and they would all ride down at once to roll over and trample under the hoofs of their white horses any of her assailants. May the $500,000 she seeks be laid at her feet! Then may the ships that carry her across Atlantic and Mediterranean seas be guided safely by him who trod into sapphire pavement bestormed Galilee! Upon soil incarnadined with martyrdom let the Red Cross be planted, until every demolished village shall be rebuilded, and every pang of hunger be fed, and every wound of cruelty be healed, and Armenia stand with as much liberty to serve God in its own way as in this the best land of all the earth we, the descendants of the Puritans and Hollanders and Huguenots, are free to worship the Christ who came to set all nations free. Doctrine of Helpfulness. It has been said that if we go over there to interfere on another continent that will imply the right for other nations to interfere with affairs pn this continent, and $o the Monroe doctrine be jeopardized. No, no! President Cleveland expressed the sentinrept of every intelligent and patriotic American when he thundered’ from the White House a warning to all nations that there is not one acre or one inch more of ground on this continent for any transAtlantic government to occupy. And by that doctrine we stand now and shall forever stand. But there is a doctrine as much than the Monroe doctrine as the heavens are higher than the earth, and that is the doctrine of humanitarianism and sympathy and Christian helpfulness which one cold December midnight, with loud and multitudinous chant, awakened the shepherds. Wherever there is a wound it is our duty, whether as individuals or as nations, to balsam it. Wherever there is a knife of assassination lifted it is our duty to ward .off the blade. Wherever men are persecuted for their religion it is .our duty to break that arm of power, whether it be thrust forth from a Protestant church ar a Catholic cathedral or a Jewish synagogue or a mosque of Islam. We all recognize the right on a small scale. If, going down the road, we find a ruffian maltreating a child, or a human brute insulting a woman, we take a hand in the contest if we are not cowards, and though we be slight in personal presence, because of our indignation we come to weigh about twenty tons, and the harder we punish the villain the louder our conscience applauds us. In such case we do not keep our hands in our pockets, arguing that if we interfere with the brute, the brute might think he would have a right to interfere with us and so jeopardize the Monroe doctrine. The Ark of Sympathy. The fact is.that that persecution of the Armenians by the Turks must be stopped, or God Almighty will curse all Christen- * dom for its damnable indifference and apathy. But the trumpet of resurrection is about to sound for Armenia. Did I say in opening that on one of the peaks of Armenia, this very Armenia of which we speak, in Noah's time the ark landed, according io the myth, as some think, but according to God s “say so.’ as I know’, and that itwas after a long storm of forty days and forty nights, called the deluge, and that afterward a dove wenl”forth from that ark and returned with an olive leaf in her beak? Even so now there is another ark being launched, but this one goes sailing, not over a deluge of water, but’ a deluge of blood—the ark of Armenian sympathy—and that ark. landing on Ararat, from its window shall fly the dove of kindness and peace, to find the olive leaf of returning prosperity, while all the mountains of Moslem prejudice, oppression and cruelty shall stand fifteen cubits under.- Meanwhile wo would like to gather all the dying groans of all the 500,000 victims of oppression and intone them into one prayer that would move the earth and the heavens, hundreds of millions of Christians’ voices, American and European, crying out: “O God Most High! Spare thy children. With mandate, froin the throne hurl back <npon their haunches the horses of the Kurdish ’ ba valry. Stop the’ rivers of blood. With the earthquakes of thy wrath shake the foundations of the palaces of the sultan. Move all the nations of Europe to command cessation of cruelty. If peed be, let the warships of civilized nations boom* their indignation. Let the crescent go down before the cross, and the Mighty One who hath on hl® vesture and on his thigh a name written ‘King of Kings and Lord of Lords.’ go forth, conquering and to - conquer. Thine. O Lord, is the klngdom! Hallelujah! Amen!” The. old guns of 16 and 20 Inch caliber at Fort Hamilton. New York, are giving place to weapons of smaller bore. But the miw.cannon will carry a shell ten miles, or four times the range of the old ones, and can also be tired with much greater precision.