Indianapolis Sentinel, Volume 34, Number 32, Indianapolis, Marion County, 1 February 1885 — Page 9

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TWELVE PAGES. INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA, SUNDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 1, 1885. PAGES 9 TO 12

TAUIAGE.

Standing on I Ijf lII)-fop of Life the Prnchr Drawn Pictures of Pat and Future. Into the Gallerj of Yonth and Young JianhHod II Peers and then Tnrna to the Other Side. One Lies Vailed In the Mellow Light ot Memory, the Other Bright In the Sunraya of Hope. Tell Me, O Thou bom M; Soal Loveth, TT here Thou Makfut My flockt lo Best at Noon From Noon to Krenlng. Brooklyx, Jan. 25 Dr Talma? tnls mora inj? preached in the Brooklyn Tiber nacle on tbe enbect: "Noontide of Life." At the opening of the service he read the names of a la rge number ot people recently connected wltn tbe cbnrcb. Passages of .scripture appropriate to tbe sublet pre en ted were expounded. The opening hymn "Blow ye tho trumpet! Blow The gladly solemn sound. Let all tbe &tiou know To earth's remotest bound Tbe j ear ot jubilee is come. Return, to ransomed sinners, horn." The text was from Solomon's Song, i, 7: "Tell rae, O Thon whom my soul loreth, where Thou maktst my flocks to rest at noon." Reference is here made, said Dr Talmaee. to tbe habit of shepherds, who at about 12 o'clock in the day lead their sheep under the shadows of trees and of rocks and by cool streams and let them repose. It is a noonday scene, and typical of human life at the meridian. Abont a hundred letters of birthday congratulation, from all professions and occupations and from all lands of Christendom, remind me that I am fiftythree years ol age. It is with me the warmth, the light, the vigor of a July noonday. My sermoQ shall be abont life at meridian, how how it seems to me now and how it seems aa I look backward and forward. Albeit Barnes, after he had reached tbe seventies, preached a memorable sermon about the evening of life. You hae beard scores ot sermons aboat the morning of life. To day we discuss the noontide. If you want to know how life sems to me now I answer it is very bright. I have had dark days, sad days, tumuhuous days, but there is now not one cbud on my sky. I would rather be here than anywnere else. My aurroudings suit me exactly. Except' yours, I have tbe best family in all the world. My friends are kind and sympathetic. The world to me is a most desirable abode. I have nothing against the weather, for if it be cold I have juel and stoutapparel, and it it be hot I flee to the mountains. 1 have no indictment to present against any thing or anybody. After all the contests in which I have engaged there is not a being with whoai 1 would not willingly, yea gladly, shake hands. THE TOP Or THE HILL OF LIFE is in some respects tbe best part of tbe road. Climbing np tbe steep is tough work. We slip and stumble aba fall back. In all occupations and professions there are drudgeries and tierce rivalries at the start. We worry and fret at small antagonisms. We fear we ihrll never come to proper appreciation. Climbing the long hill we pant and get out of breetn and feel faint, and are tempted to lie down in the bower of lazy indulgence. Our fears ot suoh times are augmented by evil prophecies of people wtfo seem, to think they are doing good seryice by setting back the young. "Da Witt," said a comrade to me aa I was walking with him oue day during our theological studies, "Da Witt, unless yoa change your style of thought and expression, yon will never get a call to any church In Christendom." And I suppose you have all been met on tbe first side ot the bill of life by people who said: "Don't! dont!" -You cant! you can't!" 4 Qait! quit!" ' etc. Every young man finds ten disheartenmeats to one round word of good cheer. Bat after awhile we get to the top of the hill, and in comparative tranquility and re pose we look both ways. It is just three miles from cradle to grave youth, the first mile; manhood, the second mile; old age, the third mile. Standing on tbe bill-top ot the second mile, my first impulse la that tf gratitude to (Joa for that in His undeserved mercy 1 have escaped all puy steal ills, having missed but one service since I entered my profession, through ill-health, and that twenty four years ago. I woald be tbe worst iugrate on earth did 1 not first of ail testify to the divine goodness, while many a man a hundred-fold more consecrated than I have been has gone staggering under burdens ot pain that often incapacitated him fir duties for which he was otherwise grandly equipped. Standing here on the top of tne hill of lite, having come np one side, and before 1 go down tne other side I wish to declare that life tome is a happiness, a i apture, an ec Stacy. If the desperate theory of the atheists should be true, and that annihilation comes after this life, aud that the sepulchre, instead of being ai we believe, the roadside inn where we pause for the night to resume in the morning our journey tullv rested and among grander prospects, is really the aboli tion Doth ot sum and body, I am, nevertheless, glad that I live, and that I live here, and that I live now. There is a great deal of WHOLESALE 8LASDER Or THE WORLD. It has been fearfully abused. Travelers on the mountain curse its chill, and voyagers on the sea curse its restlessness, and people say it is a miserable, old, mean, disgusting world, and from pole to pole it has been cal nmmated. And if tbe maltreated world should bring a libel suit against all who have slandered it, there would not be gold enough in the mountains to pay the damape, or penitentiaries enough to hold the offenders. Not content with denouncing the world, its stellar aud solar neighbors are maligned, and the sun is belabored, at one time becaut e it is toj ardent and another time because it is too distant. But I have found out that when things go wrong the fault is not with tbe sun, or moon, or stars, or the metheological conditions, but with myself. From the reports that come to me from the astronomical observatories there is not another world in the universe except Heaven, which compares wita this this as a comfortable and couvenlent stopping place. 8ome of them are ail water, and some ot them all rock, and some of them all tire, and some are swept ot electric tempests aud upheaved of volcanoes that throw coatioents into the air, with ond jerk. And if Dr. Chalmers theory that other worlds are inhaoited is true, I am sorry for them, and wish that their agonized climates may become Elysian, and that their aaforinnate inhabitants may after awhile have as genial skies as those that cpholiter as, and as blushing same La, and a morning like ours, in which the arch angel of sublimity and power spreads his pinions across cloud and mountain and sea.

incubating a new day. Before God launched

this ship of a world from tbe dockyards o eternity. He so splendidly fitted it up. the cabins, tbe masts and the wheel-houses and the decks. Though it now lies beating upon the breakers thronen man a poor pilots?, i is magnificent still, and good angels and good men are at work trying to get the old ship off tbe rocks Audit will not be long before the wreckers, with their pulleys and tugs, will have done their work, and Heaven and earth will hear tbe cry: "She floats she floats!" I am glad that in such a pleas ant world tbe Heavenly Shepherd makes bis flocks to rest at noon. But having told you how life seems to me as I s'aod on tbe hill top of my journey, yon want to know bow it seems to me when look back and when I look forward. Tbe first thing a traveler does after getting to hill-top and having recovered his breath is to look around about him. and he eavs "There is the winding road by which I came apand yonder is tbe winding road by which I shall go down." 8o I put my outspread band to mv forehead to shade my eyes from the noonday sun and concenter my vision and look toward the rosd I have ahead traveled, and I see way down in the dim dis tance at the start of the journey something quite small, and It trembles and vibrate. and rocks Ah, yes! I guess what It is. know what It is. A cradle! Then I turn and look at the road descending the hill.and still keep my oatepread hand to my fore head so as to shade mv eves from the noon asy sua ana concenter my vision, ana l (tee something at the foot of the road I am yet to travel?. That something neither trembles n jr vibrates nor rocke. It is perfectly still it is white, and the ground about it is a lit tie raised. Ah. yes! I en ess what it is. I know what it is. A grave! What have I learned by the journey np hill? TO WIN, WE MUST WORK First That nothing is accomplished with out bard work. Mv life has been prosperous to tbe last degree, but I have not had any good luck. 1 have heard people talk about a streak of good luck. I never in my life had one streak of good luck. But I have had a good God watching me and helping me and gnidiog me and correcting my mistakes, and when I worked hard He blessed me and when I was lazy He did not bless me. Whether my work has amounted to any thing or not I must leave others to jadge. but for the last thirty years I have worked up to my full capacity of endurance, and if l have gone away to rest it was merely to get ready to work, and this work all accom plished against the full protest of my nature. lor i am n ate rally the laziest man that ever was born. But I am as afraid of indolence as any reformed ineariate was ever afraid of tbe wine cup. He knows that one glass would bring him back Into inebriacy, and if should take one good long pull at nothing to do I fear I should stop forever. Young man just starting life, I give you my solemn testimony that nothing is accomplished without hard work, continuous, everlasting work. I have alto learned in my journey up the hill that all the events of one's life are linked together. The chain of life is made up ot a great variety of links, long links and small links, iron links, gold links, beautiful links, ngly links, solemn links aud mirthful links, but they are ail part of one chain of destiny. ne minute is made up of sixty links. The day made np of twenty-four links. The year oi obo lints. And all these are fastened in an endless chain, which works and slips through the hand of an all-governing God. No one event set apart from otber events. t'eopiesay: "It is my day off." You never bave a day off. Nothing Is off. In the last century a shoemaker's son puti down a bundle of shoes by tbe roadside to study a flower of the field and put in his bat for preservation a moth that he wants more deliberatly to study. You say: "Who cares for anything as unimportant as that?" You will care for it when I tell you that that was the dawn of a life which was afterward to translate the Bible into thirty versions and become the greatest of oriental linguists, the governments of .the earth compelled to reverence the name of William Carey. A straight line ot events from the shoemaker's boy examining a weed by the roadside to the world-renowned Christian scholar. An American clergyman bad a son, Adoniraoi. cf wonderful brightness. The father used to pat him on tbe bead and (ay: "Adeniram, you will be a great man yet,'' and the boy was spurred on in his ambition and studied Latin until he was called Old Virgil dug up." Tbe bright est worldly prospects opened before him. but one day tbe boy came across a book entitled Embassy to Aba," and it revolutionized all his thoughts, and he resolved to become a missionary to Barman. After awhile the family were discussing the worldly pros pects ot this son in his presence. The father slid: "Adoniram. Dr. Griffin has been here to-day, wanting you to become his colleague in Boston," and the mother and sisters were congratnlating themselves tbat they would have Adoniram so near home. Then he told them of the book he had read, and of the fact that be was coin? to spend his life preaching Christ in dark and cruel Burniah. The boy's picking up that one book seemed to be an insignificant event, but it began the glorious career of Adoniram Judson. So in all your lives tbe insignificant is the momentous, and matters that seemed of no account decide for all of bs our temporal and eternal dostiay, and your coming here this morning, which was perhaps not long premeditated, and accidentally as you think, is of more importance to you than any event in the last ten centuries or the final destruction of the world, because It is going to decide where you will be after all the worlds shall be demolished, some by collision and some by explosion, some by frac tnre and some by cycljne. some bv frost and some by conflagration; all gone but two, and these two rolling on, the one through cycles and immensities of rapture and the other rolling on through cycles and immensities of pang; rolling up, rolling up, rolling down, roiling down; two worlds the one a charred and the other an irradiated spheric ity. If you continue to ask me how the past appears to me, I reply it appears like lour or hve picture galleries running into each other. A Düsseldorf, a Louvre, a Luxem bourg, their corridors adjoining. Boyhood gallery. Church gallery, Home gallery. II THE BOYHOOD GALLERY are the faces ot schoolmates and college mates. 1 shut my eyes and my memory walks through that gallery. I see them now flying kites, playing ball. trundling the hoop. ranging the woods for nuts.coastiogthe nillside, or, later, with me bending over lexicons and algebras and trigonometries. The most of these companions are departed. A large number of those who were not positively Christians died dissipated and perished in sin bofore thirty years of age. The wine-cup with its sharp edge cut the jugular vein of their immortal souL Poor f el lows! They tried the world without God, and the world slew them. Splendid fellows! What foreheads for brain! What muscle for strength I And what endearing letters they got from home, and how they carried oil the bouquets on commencement dayl But they made tbe terrific, the fatal mistake ot thinking relegion a superfluity, and they are in the pic ture gal'erv not so much as canvas as sculp ture Lacoons writhing and struggling in rain until muscles snap and eyes start from their sockets amid the crushing folds ot hor rors serpentine ana gnastiy. satan natn a tedious appetite, nd be flings the nat

u rally vulgar into the t-ough to fatten his swine, but says: "Bring to mv golden plate the clearest brain and the gentlest heart and the finest nature. I relish delicate morsels. For such viands I have the keen est appetite, and my knife cuts tnrough the lusciouaness. Pour into my chalice the richest blood of my victims Pour it np to the rim. A few

more drops, now, until it bubbles over. There now; that will do. Oh, thli inferna banquet of choice shiIs. Ha, ha! I smack my lies with the pot'on. Let common de raons take the coarser ratures; give me, who am the king of all diabolism, the jollieet and the gladdest and the rarest of all the immor tal sacrifice. Ha, ha!" Here also in my memory is he church gallery of departed ones to whom I minis tered Belleville gallery, Syracuse gallery, Philadelphia gallery, Brooklyn gallery. The figures appear to me in frames of hosannas and hallelujahs Sweet spirits glorious spirits! transported spirits! spirits blest! Expiring cbildsen with tbe face of Raphael's Madonna. Octogenarians with patriarchal demeanor and look tbat made one think that Elijah, safely arrived, bad sent back his fiery chariot for another pas senger. Fair maidens whose last hours were a transfiguration. Young men going out of life witb antberiiS on the lip and the flash of pearline portals In their eyes. Here also In my memory is the home gal lery. Oh, how dear the faces old faces and young! Faces more and more haloed by tbe recession of years. Faces into which we looked when we pat on their lap. Faces that looked up at us while they sat in nur lap Face wrinkled with old age. Faces all aflush with Infantile jocundity. Faces that wepL t aces that laughed, races that dis appeared. Faces gone. A FORWARD GLANCE. But. you ask, as I stand on top ot the hill. how does the other road look the one that winds down to the whlae marble stab at the ootr i answer, the rode to travel seems brighter than the one passed I would not want to live life over again, as many wish. We would do no better next time than we d this. The fact is, the life we have had was lived over by 500 other people whom we know, and if we did not improve by thwse 500 experiences we would not improve by our own. If we who have come to the noontide of life tbe 12 or 1 o'clook could be put back to G o'clock in the morning, we would simply repeat tne previous journey, I would not want to go back and pi 5k up the old burdens and fight old battles and weep over tbe same graves. But, says some one. you don't know what may be ahead of misfortune or trial or duty Of course not But if I have a railroad journey ot 1,000 miles to travel, and for the hrst 500 miles I have found the tracks solid and the bridges ssfe and tbe conductors competent and the engineers wide awake, it ocreafs my confidence for tbe next 500 miles. For this life I believe I have a through ticket and, though the track may wind this way and that and there may be dark tunnels to traverse and may occasionally switch off to let some otber trains i ass and we mat I sometimes have a hot box and pass places where tte red flag bids us slow up. we are to come out at the right place. Whatever our duties and trials are we shall be able to meet them. The late Willard Parker, the renowned surgeon, had a case of goitre brought to him or treataient. The patient was several times a millionaire. A million dollars was offered the surgeon if he would perform tbe operation and warrant the safety of the palent. He said: "lean not warrant any thing, but I will do the best I can." My riend said to him: "How did you feel when you undertook tbe surgery?'' He said: "My hand trembled fearfully until my knife touched tbe place, and then my nerves were steel, and, without a tremor and without any excitement, I went through the successful operation." So, we may tremble and feel unfit to meet the responsibilities of this life, but when the time comes God will bold our hand, and we shall ome through without a perturbation. strong in the strength of Christ our Lord. And then, notwithstanding all the balder dash of the infidels and free thinkers and atheists and nothinglsts about the great fu ture, I shall believe that our life here is only asmsll fragment of an expanding existence. The three miles that make up this life are not an inch long compared with what hereafter shall open. THAT riCTULE GALLERY AHEAP s brighter and more thrilling than the picare gallery behind Indeed, we take down be best pictures of the earthly gallery and go up one step-ladder of amethist and hang them on tbe burnished walls of heaven. iook! There is Christ! For earthly gallerRubens painted Him, and Cayp and Correg gio painted Him, and Tiotoret painted Him, and Benjamin West painted him, and Dore painted Him, but this eclipses all, and is tbe master piece of Heaven. Look! There is 'aal, tbe hero of Senehedrim and Agrippa's court and Mars Hill and Nero's infamy, and wbj shook hs chained fist In tbe face of teeth chattering royalty. Look! There is Joshua, tbe man who postponed sundown; and Yasbti, whose vail the profligacy of a Persian coart could not lift or tear. Behold them all aong the corridors David witb his harp, and Miriam with her cymbals, and Zachariah with his scroll, and 8t John with hts seven vials, and tne resurrection angtl with his trumpet. Yea. there are our trans ported loved ones, the cough gone from the throat tbe weariness from the limbs, the languor from the eye. the wanness from the cheek. Let us zo up and embrace them! Let us jro up and lie with them! From this hilltop of my journey I catch a glimpse of that hilltop where all sorrow and sickness shall be done away with. May God make that place to us a reality. Full faith in it gave old Dr. Tying the strength to stand by the casket of his darling son, whose arm had been torn of by a threshing machine, mortification and death ensuing, and speak with supernatural composure. That sustained Martin Luther, till he buried his favorite child without a tear. Tbat made one of tbe old dying saints say she saw written all over the sky the letter W. When asked what she thought it meant sie said, "W stands for welcome." That makes the plaineet ?hroud the embroidery of a King's palace. O Heaven, swing open thy gates! OUeaven, roll this way one of thy anthems! O Heaven, flash upon ui a vision of thy lustre! A ship from Ind'a coming toward the coast oi France had for crew some French sailors, who had been absent from Franoe tor mapy years As they came in sight they leaped and skipped the decks with joy, pointing out to eacu other the spires or. the churches they had attended in childhood. and the hills on which tney had played, and tbey became quite uncontro'able; and when they entered tbe port and saw on tbe wharves fathers and mothers and wives and families calling them byname, tbe sailors could be kept no longeron board, but leaped to the shore, so that another crew had to be employed to briog the ship to ber moorings. 8o Heaven, our fatherland, will, after awhile, be so fully in sight thai we can see its hills and its temples and its foliage, ana our friends there shall call to us, and we will spring to the shore and with them go up tbe grassy banks, leaving this old ship of a world to other crews, our voyaging on the rough seas haying ended forever. Rocts and storms I'll fear no more when on that eteraü höre. Drop the anchor, furl the sail, i am sale wiuiia tbe vail.

THE OHRTS ANTIIKMt M.

When shone the bright moou. brightest. Upon the garden bed. 1 saw the maiden, whitest. C pi If i her dainty head. Cold lay the frost and paler The coeek that felt his kiss, , As a white bride doth veil her, 3oe veiled ber brows with this. Silent the withered Karden. btrewed with tbe frost kine's pelt. Save where tbe owl. hi warden, Hooteth to cneer himself. Testing the high and lowly; Seeking lor one most pure: Only a virgin holy The frost kiss might endure. All the impassioned flowers Fnncd by bis blighting breath, Blackened within their bowers. In the embrace of death. Passionate kissen, killing, Fell on each glowing breast Of the frail beauties, stilling. Lulling them into rtst. Saintly and still and queenly Sunds the white maiden there, Wearing his elft, serenely, As maid their jewels wear. She and the Frost her lover, In tne wan, waning light Of the ml id moon above her. Watch through the quiet night D. Dandridge In Coder's Lady's Book. II ET LÖF IC 4 Of Oütt S CA. rB 4M EN. How Webster Popped the Question Love Affairs of Clay. Calhoun. Douglas. Wise Davy Crocket, firewater, logalls. Conger Vance, Mahone and Others. I New York Mail and Express.) The past year has been noted for its social scandals, and Senator Sharon's divorce adds another item to this part of its history. The late Presidential campaign comprised a con tinuous washing ot dirty linens, and the mode after which the great man makes love has become as important aB his vote on tbe tariff or civil-service reform. Most of our statesmen, however, bave pure domestic records, and the marriages of many of them have been marriages of love. Old Senator Benton was devoted to bis wife and he would never attend any place of festivity or amusement after her death. The wile or Senator Allen, better known as 'Fog-horn" Allen, died here at Washington during the winter of 1847. before the days of railroads. and the old Senator carried her corpse borne to Ohio over the mountains, riding beside it on horseback during the day and watching t at night throughout the cold, dreary journey, until he laid it at last oesiae ner iatner, Governor Arthur, in the beautiful cemetery at Chillicothe. Daniel Webster's two mar riages were marriages of love. His first wife was Grace Fletcher, the daughter of a New Hampshire clergyman. Webster married her when he was twentysix years of age and while he was yet a poor awyer. Iiis popping tun question was most delicately done. Mif-s Grace had been windng a skein of 5 arn while he had held it for her on bis long arms. Tbe skein bad become fancied, and during its untwisting the heads of the two lovers had come very close together. As tbe knot became untied Mr. Webster said: "We have succeeded, mi s Grace, in untying this knot; can we not now tie another which will remain tied as long as we live?' Miss Grace blushed, and a kiss. it is said, sealed tbe bargain. Tbe two lived happily for eighteen years, when Mrs. Webster died in New York on her way to Washington, where her husband was a member of Congress. 8he wa9 ill three weeks, during which time Webster watched at her bedside, but two years after she died be married again. Websters second wife was Caroline LeRoy, a New lork lady, tall, brown-haired and beautiful. She presided over bis estab lishment here and accompanied bim to EaroDe. where she dined with the Queen. She always addressed her husband as "Mr. Webster." and his favorite term for ber was "Lady Caroline." John U. Calhoun married his cousin, and tbe property he got with her made bis political life free from financial cares. Henry Clay married Lucretia Hart, a relative of Tom Benton, who had a good dowry and understood how to keep house. Jeff Davis mar ried for bis first wife tbe daughter of acn Taylor, and his father-in-law deicdedly ob jected to tbe match, lie would have little to do with Davis until after tbe battle of Buena Vista, where Davis excited Taylor's admiration by his bravery. Gere-al Fremont eloped with Tom Benton's daughter, and it was some time before old Benton grew reconciled to tbe match. When he did, however, he be came infatuated with Fremont, and he con sidered him, next to himself, the greatest man in.the country. Mrs. Fremon t is still living, and tbe hairs of herself and her busband have grown gray in their married life. It is said that neither of them has ever re gretted their elopement. James nacnanan, Alexander Btepnens and John Randolph of Roanoke were each disappointed in lova when tbey arrived at the age of manhood, and they all remained true to their first affection. They said but little about it, and tbe subject was forbidden ground to their dearest friends. Randolph ones spoke of his love as one for whom he cared more than his own soul or the God that made it, and from Stephens' papers we find that he fell in love while he was yet a boy at school. The first wife of Stephen A. Douglas was a North Carolina woman and a slave-owner. His second wife be got here in Washington. She was very beautiful, and it is said she was a poor giil. She was many years younger thai Djuglas and several years af ter he died she married again. David Davis' present wife is twenty-eight years younger than the old Senator, and, as he is worth about three millions, she will be well fixed if he should happen to drop off. Henry A. Wise, tbe noted Virginia states man of Tyler's day, was married three times His third wife survives him, and is, I think. living at Richmond to-day. His first love was tbe daughter of one of his professors at college, a Miss Jennings, whom he married in Tennessee. His second wife was a daugh ter of John Sergeant, the Whig candidate for Vice President in 1832. Wise proposed to Miss Sergeant on the dome of tbe capitoi here, and one oi tne re sults of the marriage was John Sergant Wise, the present member of Congress from Virginia, who waj b)rn in Rio Janeiro, where Henry A. Wise was officiating as minister at the time." As John Wise was not born in the United States, he can never be president, though it is said at the moment of bis birth his father, determined to have him born under the American flag, ran up a dozen on different parts of the consular mansion. Senator 8am Houston, the president of the republic of Texas, was the youngest man who had ever governed the state of Tennessee, when he fell in love witb a pretty girl at the state capital. He was the gov ernor of tbe state, good looking and a splen did catch. After his marriage he found his wife loved another and she had been forced by ber parents to marry him. He left the governor s chair, and telling his wife to get a divorce on the ground of desertion, went to the front and joined a tribe of Cherokee Indians. Here he'mamed a squaw in In dian fashion, and then beoame a chief. He was drinking hard and going to the dogs, when one day he was toldef the troubles In Texas and the battle of the Alamo was de-

'rihul trkVilm TT tTaiohf jner? hlm1ff nn determined to be a man again and wen forth to his brave and distinguished rarfer in Texa?. His wife, I am told, got ber divorce bat whether she married her lover or not 1 kmw not Divy Crockett, another frontier statesman, fell in love with a relative of his schoolmast er, but while be was sparking ber a richer suitor earrled her away under his eyes. He next met a beauty at a ball, fell in love at first sieht and become engaged at tbe close of the fifth dance. The day was fixed for bim to announce tbe engagement to his parents He started to go to them, fell in with some boon companions on tbe way and made, as they say, a night of it. He arrived a day too late and found his lady love was to be married that niabt to another Crockett made the best of a bad bargain. He laughed off his disappointment and danced all night at the cloe of tbe wedding at the party given in its honor. He soon fell in love again and this time be became married. He was elected to Congress several times and was one of tbe most popular men in Washington. Strange to say, he died in 1836, at the very battle of tbe Alamo which so stirred up Sam Houston to his great Texan career. Charles Sumner married tbe daughter inlaw of Samuel Hooper, one of the most noted members of Corgress from Massaohu setts. They did not get along well together and finally separated, but this trouble did not change the relations ol Hooper to sum ner. The trouble was that Sumner was too old and sedate for bis young wife and he would not remain as long at parties er go out as much as she wished. Samner. who bad hts rooms here fitted up elegantly and bad a French cook to pander to his tastes, prefer red to remain at home among his books. To come down to the present, Horatio Seymour married a descendant of General echuyler, who was Alexander Hamilton's father-in law. and his country home is a part of tbe old Schuyler estates. Rosche Conkling married Horatio Seymaur's youngest sister, Julia, and it is said tbat bis relations with bis brother-in-law are more friendly than the world supposes. William M. Evarts fell In love with his wife when she was sixteen and he a green boy at college. She was the daughter of Governor Wardner of Vermont, and was as pretty as young Evarts was homely. They became engaged at her home in Vermont, and Evarts went away to New York, promising to return when he had made enough to warrant bu marrying. At twenty-five he bad made a name for himself as a lawyer, and was a member ot one or the chief New York law firms of one making. t is said, a total of $00,000 a year. At this time he married, and nis wne, alter bearing bim thirteen children, is still well and happy. General Sherman was brought up in old Tom E wing's family, and he married bis adopted father's daughter. Tbe wedding took place here in Washington. Dju Cam eron married General Sherman's niece, Miss Lizzie Sherman, and the wedding was cele brated in Cleveland about a month before that of Senator Blanch K Bruce. Bruce was a sheriff in Mississippi when he fell in ove. He bad come to Cleveland on business where he met tne pretty coiorea gin who is now his wife. They corresponded for some time, aud when isruce was nnauy elected Senator he marriei her. Mrs. Bruce was before this one of tbe brightest of Cleveand's public school teachers. Tbe night before the wedding a reporter called upon her and made a number of tearching inquiries about the wedding, the guests to be in vited and her trosseau He pushed the mat ter so far that see ironically asked him if he would not take a look at ber love-letters: and there is no doubt she appreciated the situation as well aa though she had been Mrs. Cameron herself. Attorney General Brewster has been twice married, aud his present wife was a widow. She is the daughter of Hon Robert J. Walker, once Secretary of the Treasury, and it is curious fact that Urewster s hrst wire sua her nrst husband were Dotn ioreigners. Brewster married a Prussian lady, and Miss Walker a French gentleman. These two oreign elements having passed away by death the two remainders met and married. Mrs. Brewster is one of tbe loveliest ladies in Washington, and her husband is by all odds the hemeliest man. Still he admired tbe beautiful, and it is said tbat words of proposal were as folows: You are beiutiful, dtar madame. and I am hideous, but it will not be the first instance of tbe mating or beauty and the beast; and although you may never love me, you shall never regret marrying me." And so the match was made, and Mrs. Da Lou's three children took the name of Brewster, and Mrs. Brewster is one of the lights of Washington society. Senator Ingalls was a young western law yer who had gone from Massachusetts to Kansas, when he met his wife at a friend's wedding. He had cut shy of the society of be ladies of the frontier hitherto, but he was at this wedding in tbe capacity of groomsman. As he stood up with his friend he noted that one of tbe bridesmaids was air. dI um d and roe v. and as he looked he oved. She was the daugbtar of a New York merchant who had lately settled in Ate bison. Calls ensued, an engagement followed, and the result was marriage. There Is no finer ooklne couple now in the capital, and not withstanding tbe fact that several beautiful children have graced the match Mrs. Ingalls is almost as fresh and blooming to day as she was then, quite a number of years ago. 8er a tor Hamlin, of Maine, married the daughter of a judge with whom he tried his first law case as an opposing lawyer, aena tor Conger of Michigan did likewise, bat in Conger's case his sweetheart first jilted him and he was twitted of it in tbe courtroom. He left tbe case standing and went to Michigan, where he married, did well, and came to Congress. In the meantime his first wife died. His first love bad also married and had gone West, where her husband had died. To allay ber grief she decided upon a tour to Earope, and started by way of Washington. Stopping over here, she wandered into the house galleries to see whether she had any friends in the halls below. She eent him her card. He was delighted to see her. The old flame burst out anew. He proposed not long after this. She accepted him, and now there is not a more loving couple in Wash ington. The house they live in belong! to Mrs. Conger. Senator Mahone has been very ill and he is now thinner than ever. His wife loves him dearly. A funnv story is to!d of her anxtetv at tne Dattie or ism nun, in wnicn uenerai iiahone was wounaea. eae was stopping at Warrenton, a few miles off, watching the battle. General Mahone sent a courier to tell her of his hart and to say that it was only a flesh wound. "You need not tell me that:" she replied, "1 know it can't be true! Billy Mahone will never have a fish wound. There is no flesh on htm " Senator Vance has been marriei twice. It is said that me death of nis nrst wile cobverted bim to the Presbyterian faith Sena tor Palmer married the daughter o' Charley Me nil', a rich lumber dea'era. Detroit. His fither-iu-law made him his partner, and the match formed tbe foundation of his present millions. Senator-elect Payne married a connection of Commodore Perry's who owned a lot of real estate around what was then the village of Cleveland. The city grew and his wife's property made bim a rich man. The old Fayne homestead is on a part of tne Perry estate, aud the eighty acre farm which surrounded this is now worth, suppose, a million dollars. Payne's father-

i

in law bonght it for a little more than three

dollars an acre. i-x-benator uorsey was working lor a hotel keeper in the little town of Oberlin when he fell in love with Mrs. Dorsey. who was the landlord's pretty daughter. He married her, went West and made a for tune. Samuel Cox rrarried an he. res of Z&nesville, Ohio, when he was just starting in bis career, and his wife is raid to be his equal in intellectual and social attainments. Samuel Randall and John G. Carlisle both made love matches and both owe their greatness to tbe reform which their wives made in their drinking habits. A Venetian Traveler. Annie Sawyer Downs in Wide Awake.l Tbe Piazza of St. Mark's is as much the centre of tbe religious as of the focial life of Venice for its crowning elory is tbe church of bt. Mark. Marvelous upon it exterior, lis no less marvelous within, appealing more strongly to tbe religious element than any other cbnrch in the world. Its doors stand open day and night, prayer Dever ceases within its walls, and the sacrament is constantly adored upon its altar. Therefore there is an endless crowd, old and vounz. women and soldiers, children and priests, continually parsing through its nave. In fact, so accustomed are the people to the mist fama'iar use of the church, that I often saw the market woman eet down her heavy basket in tbe vestibule, or the vender of fried fish deposit the yoke upon which his wart-s were hnng at the entrance doors. hnng at tbe entrance doors, From a little rauow street which elbowed St. Mark's on te north many busy mothers emerged to rush across tne square and Ray a hasty praver in the church. These mothers never had any baby carriages, but they pushed the little ones before them in a queer sort of cage, akin to what in remote parts of New England is even now called a "stand ing stooL" These standing I 'ools are high enough to come under the baby's arms and allow his feet to rest on the fl j r. Bing larger at tbe bottom than the top, tbe support is firm. and the wheels, fastened ecnrelv to the bae, allow the child to push himself along It is very convenient to use this old-time contrivance in Venice, as the squares and many of the streets are paved with great blocks of white marble, smooth and level as a drawing-room floor. One morning a mother left her baby m bis stool at the principal entrance of St. Mark's. I do not k ow if she prayed longer than ueual. or if he thought it a good opportunity to go off a little on his own account, but Le began to roll himself around. Nearly oppo site where he was left, on the east side of tbe square, is a paved street not more than seven feet in its widest part, and upon whose every side shops are set aa thickly as possible. I was picking my way gingerly amid its fruit seller, fish dealers and shell venders, when lond shouts and hearty langhin; made me turn sharply. The little enetlan traveler was coming right down upon me. Doubtless the square slanted a trile, for his rapid mo tion left h's hurrying mother far behind. His short sleeved blouse showed his plump brown arms, while the funny cap, embroidered with shells imtead of bead!, permitted us to see how his gleaming eyes laughed to their dusky depths a he shook defiantly in the air tbe odd toy he sturdily held close in his wildest flight. After him still clattered his irritated mamma. On account of her high heeled 6hoes she could not run very fat t, but there was little need, for a eood natured water carrier stretched out his biawny arms, and the runaway was captured. Happy Children. They pent him round the circle fair To bow before the pre'tiest there; I'm bound to say the choice he made A creditable taste displayed; Although, can't ay what it meant, Tne little maid looked ill content. His task was then anew begun: To knetl before tbe wittiest one. Once more tbe little maid sought be. And bent him down upon his knee. 8he turned her eyes upon the floor: I ihlnit she thought the game a boie. He circled then his sweetest behet. To kls the one be loved the best; For all she frowned, for all she chid. He kissed that little maid, he did. And then though why I cau't decide The little maid looked satisfied. A Senatorial Stamp-Uollector. lEdmund Alton, in 6t. Nicholas for February, Charles Samner was one of America's great eet statesmen, and I found him to be one of the kindest men in the world. He was an ideal American gentleman, always polite to every one, and I never beard him utter a cross or hasty word. He had an extensive correspondence and received letters from all parts of tbe globe. At one time, while I was a page, I had a mania for gathering stamps, and as those on many of bis letters were very rare, I asked tbe Senator if be would kindly put tbe envelopes in his desk, so that I could get them, instead of tearing and throwing them upon the floor. He said be would save them for me with pleasure, and, sure enough, the next day he came to the Senate with a large collar box in his band. He put this in the drawer ot his desk, and whenever he opened an envelope with a foreign stamp attached, he would tear off tbe stamp and deposit It in tbe box. Several weeks afterward be called me to him and banded me the box, filled with the choicest and most curious collection, saying: "Now, if you will empty the box, I will fill it again for you " And he was trae to bis worl. I have met hundreds of eminent men in my life; none, however, more prominent or with more cares to burden or distract their thought than this grand Senator from Massachusetts; yet I think few of them would, under simi lar circumstances, bave gone to so much trouble merely to numor tne whim ot a boy. Senator Sumner took quite an interest in me, and had an especial fondness for catching me by the ears. Often have I attempted to pass tbe Senator, while be was walking to and fro on tbe flojr of the 8enate, only to have both my ears seized good naturedly. and to be asked some kindly question. shall always remember one of these adven tures font was an adventure! He had sent me on an errand. Having returned reported to him tbe answer, and received his deep voieed tbaoks, I started to movr away, bot he had caught me, and continued bis alow march I la front ladiaa file. As he was a tall man and I a very small boy in . .. 1. . ... - comt ariBon, 1 naa to want on tiptoe to ease tne pain, ana even then it seemed as it my ear would come on mv head The worst of it was that he at once became so lost In thought that he forgot he bad hold of me. and mechanically paced up and down, with his long strides, wniie 1 oanced a mud wardance, for some minutes it teemed to me an hour to the intense amuse ner, t of al who observed It. The more I struggled, the more did I increase the azony, bat I at last managed to wriggle away from his grasp The sadden "emptiness ' of his hand caused bim to realize the state of atiairs, and he begged my pardon eo energetically, and the spectators smiled so audibly, that tbe pro ceedings or the bena'e werd interrupted and Mr Coifax actually had to tap wiih his gavel to restore order 1 But it was, after all, an honor to be noticed, even in that fashion, by so distinguished a man as Senator Samner. He had the widest reputation of any of tbe senators, and tbe first question most visitors to the Senate I) would ask was "Which la Charles Sumner T

COMPENSATION.

Not faithful heart nor valiant band Wins always honor s guerdon; Uncrowned, full many a hero fails. before an encircling coidon. The patient delver in the mine Its wealth may not discover. And beauty's grsce and tenderness Ilepay not fondett lover. Yet t till the level-balance waitf, Foised true by fte unswerving: No perfec t gift ot teaven rewards The rtcreaat undeserving. Tbe tinseled baubles fame bestows Are tarnlr.ed in tbe winning; The Koal attained through tears and pain But mocks the grand beginning. Oh. soul, tbat M?et thy longed-for prtxe Bestowed upon another. Be biave to btar thy sore defeat. Thy grief and auser smother; Nor bck uro thy toiling years Look with regret forever; Thou bat i be ket that life can give Tbe rapture ot endeavor. arah D. Robert. Written for tbe Sunday BenUneL A 4 HON BUUirS INDIANA FBIE5D. On the 25th day of June, 1807, two Indict. ments were returned by the Grand J ury of the United Stales Court at Richmond, lr- . . . A J Al gtnia, one tor tne crime oi treason ana me other for misdemeanor against Davis Floyd, of tbe Territory of Indiana. The reporter'! short band notes of Aaron liurr atrial aa not show whether tbe accused was ever placed under arrest to answer to tbe indictments or even whether be was present as a witness in behalf of the principal prisoners. Burr and Blennerhasett; but It is fair to presume that Floyd was at Richmond as faithful to Aaron Burr and bis fortunes during the exciting and fiercely fought treason trial which culminated in Burr's acquittal as be was in tbe memorable and mysterious expedition from Blennerhassett's famous Island down the Ohio and Mississippi and among the swamps of Bayou Pierre, in search of glory, gold, or a Southwestern empire. What Burr's real object was Davis Fioyd probably did not know, and this fid us Achates no doubt believed that the administration sympathized with Burr and be must have expected a glittering as well as sub stantial reward in the event of BUCCesS Os tensibly Burr's plan was to estabbsh a colony of educated refined ana rich settlers upon tbe Baron Bistrop tract of land, on the banks of tbe Washita River, in the Louisiana Territory, but his real design was to seite upon Mexico and the Spanish provinces aa soon as war, then seeming almost inevitable. was declared by our Government witb Spain. men with the aid of tbe Western people an empire was to be established in the South west which would rival Rome In magnifi cence, power and wealth. Burr was to te the Eaiperor, and Davis Floyd presumably would have been high in authority if Lmperors reward lojal adherents. Before the expedition started, and on the third day of Iuvember, 180G, Burr bad been arrested at Frankfort, Kentucky, and when the case was called for trial, tbe district attorney, Jobn Daviess, of Tippecanoe fame, obtained a continuance on tbe ground tbat Davis Fioyd, the most im portant witness for tbe Government was absent in Indiana, attendipg a session of tbe feiritorial Legislature at Vincennes. It ap pears fiom uillon'a History, page 410, that Fioyd was the a ember from Clark County of the fiist Territorial Legislature which met at Vincennes on July 29, 1805 if Floyd ever appeared at Frankfort (and the presumption is that he did) his testimony exculpated Burr, for tbe Grand Juty refused to return a bill of indictment against him. In leas than a month Burr s expedition was on its way. The enthusiastic Blennerhaesett who ready for "wealth and glory, Lousiana and Mexico," states in his private journal that on Tuesday, December 16, 1800, they left Jeffersonville and crossed the falls ot the Ohl sately and on the 27ih they met Burr with his dejoted allies, Colonel Comfert TlerandM jor Davis Floyd at the month of the Cumberland. FI03 d commanded one of tbe boats. So they proceeded uatil they reached Bayou Pierre, about thirty miles above Natchez. But by this time the whole country was alarmed. The milita bad gathered at Natchez, The Governor offered two thousand dollars for Burr's arrest, and be left Floyd and Tjler, hastily crossing to the eastern side of the river and biding in tbe wocds. While thus concealed Burr induced a negro bay to mount his horse and carry a note to Floyd and Tyler which read thu: "If you are yet together keep so. and I will join you to morrow night. In the mean while put all your arms in perfect order. Ask no questions of the bearer but tell him all you may think I wish to know. He dies not know tbat this is from me, nor where I am." "To C. T. and D. F." This note to Floyd led to tbe arrest and dispersion of the followers of Burr and it was the strongest link in the chain of cir cumstances on which the Government reled for Burr's conviction, but what became of Floyd in tbe wilder ness? It is clear that he did not rejoin Burr, or Barr wabdered into Washington County. Alabama, where he was arrested. Probably Fiotd e6captd or was taken to New Orleans. at.d from thence was brooght to Richmond to be tried. But be never was trid. Wben Chief Justice Marshall declared that Burr was neither legally nor actually present at Blanuerhassets Island where by the indict ment the levying of war was charred, the case of tne Government ex.ded. and Davis F.oid was never called to plead to the Inctments against hica. He returned to Indiana Territory, and it is but right to pre sume, in the absence cf proof to the con trary, tbat be firmly believed in tke integrity and patriotism of Barr that be was acting with tbe sanction of the Government whicb was then expecting a 8panien war and tbat he d d not harbor treasonable de signs Flo5d was the first Circuit Judge of tbe S?coud Judicial Circuit having been cjmmisiioned by Governor Jennings on Octobei 10, 191, and it is said that the good little County of Floyd received its nims tf ,V .... . r . irom mm. 1 nave not been able in nastily Dreparing tnis paper to ascertain when Floyd died or where he was buried. He must have oeen a man of great energy and indomitable perseverence. Otherwise, be would not have been Aaron Burr's trusted Lieutenant. Biennerhaseett, in hia Journal tajs "iiajor Floyd s temper was botb mild and amiable." He anneara to have been learned in the law. If bis letters and correspondence with Burr and Blennerbasset, could be found, what a flood ot light they would pour on the motives of Burr and Wilkinson. It ii clear to the reader of Burr's life and trial that Davis Fioyd, his Indiana friend, was a friend of friends, and true as steel to bim in pros perity and adversity. What a different career both be and Barr would bave led. had Jefferson and his cabinet favored tbe inva sion of Mexico. We should bave bad no Texan lie volution or Mexican War. Annexation and absorption ot the southern parts of America would have been tbe early policy and manifest destiny of the United Slates, and Senator frjin the State of Mexico might have helped to shape our tariff system and internal or foreign policy long before Sam Houston ana bis Texan braves made the field of San Jacinto forever memorable. J. II. 8TATX3BCaO. New Albany, Ind,