Indiana State Sentinel, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 October 1889 — Page 6

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THE INDIANA STATE SENTINEL, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30, 18S9.

IN TIMES OF GREAT TRIAL

THE PREACHER SUGGESTS A REFUGE. Dr. Talmas Expresses to His People Deep Sorrow and Uecpcr Faith at tho De ' traction of the Tabernacle The Sew Jerusalem Fire Proof. The Rev. Dr. Talmage preached at the Academy of music, Brooklyn, last Sunday, his first sermon since the destruction of the Brooklyn tabernacle by fire. His audience wa3 of vast size, and public interest was extraordinary. The opening hymn was : 'Hiod moves in a mysterious war His wonders to perform; He plant his footstep in the sea And rides upon the storm." Dr. Talmaga'a subject was: "The Baptism of Fire," and he took as his text Acta xx., 24: "None of these things move me." lie paid : But, Paul, have you not enough affliction to move you? Are you not an exile from your native land? "With the most genial and loving nature have you not, in order to be free for missionary journeys, given yourself to celibacy ? Have you not turned away from the magnificent worldly successes that would have crowned your illustrious genius? Have you not endured the sharp an 1 stinging neuralgias like a thorn in thefiesh? Have you not been mobbed on the land and shipwrecked on the sea; the sanhedrim against you, the Roman government against you, all the world and all hell against you. "Whatof that?"' says Faul. "None of these things move me !" It was not because he was a hard nature. Gentlest womaa was never more easily dissolved into teare. lie could not even bear to see anybody cry, for in the the midst of hi.sermon when he saw some one weeping her sobs aloud, "What mean yo to weep and to break mine heart? For I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the "name of the Lord Jesus." "What then did Paul mean when he said: "None of these things move me?" He meant: "I will not be diverted from the work to which I have been called by any and all the adversities and calamities."" I think this morning I express not only my own feelinsr, but that of every man, woman, and little child belonging to Brooklyn tabernacle, or that was converted there, or comforted there, or blessed there, w hen I look toward the blackened ruins of the dear and consecrated spot, and with an aroused faith in a loving (iod, cry out: "None of these things move me." When I say that 1 do not mean that we have no feeling about it. Instead of standing hereto-day in this brilliant auditorium it would be more consonant w ith my feelings to sit down among the ruins and weep at the words of David: "If I forget thee, 0 Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning." Why, let me say to the strangers here to-day in explanation of the deep emotion of my flock, we had there in that building sixteen years of religious revival. I believe that a hundred thousand eouIs were born there. They caine from all parts of the earth, and we shall never see them again until the books are opened. Why, ßirs! our children were there baptized, and at those altars our young men and maidens took the marriage vow, and out of those gates we carried our dead. When from the roof of my house last Sunday morning at 3 o'clock I saw our church in flames, I said: "That is the last of the building from which we buried our De "Witt on that cold December day, when it peemed all Brooklyn wept with my household." And it was just as hard for you to give up your loved ones as for us to give up ours. Why, like the beautiful vines that still cover some of the fallen walls, our affections are clambering all over the ruins, and I could kiss the ashes that mark the place where it once stood. Why, now that I think of it, I cannot think of it as an inanimate pile, but as a soul, a mighty soul, an indestructible soul. I am sure that majestic organ had a soul, for we have often heard it speak and sing and ehout and wail, and when the soul of that organ entered heaven I think Handel and Hayden, and Mozart, and Mendelssohn, and Beethoven were at the gates to welcome it. So 1 do not use the words of my text in a heartless way, but in the sense that we must not and will not be diverted from our work by the appalling disasters which have befallen us. We will not turn aside one inch from our determination to do all we can tor the present and everlasting happiness of all the people whom we may be able to meet. "None of these move me." None of these things move you. When I looked out through the dismal rain from the roof of my house and saw the church crumbling brick by brick and timber by timber, I said to mvself : Does this mean that my work in Brooklyn is ended? Does this terminate my association with this city, where I have been more than twenty years glad in all its prosperities and sad "in all its misfortunes? And a still email voice came to me, a voice that is no longer still or small but most emphatic and commanding, through pressure of hand, and newspaper column, and telegram, and letter, and contributions, saying: "io forward !" I have made and now make appeal to all Christendom to help us. We want all Christendom to help, and I will acknowledge the receipt of every contribution, great or small, with my own hand. We want to build larger and better. We want it a national church, in which people of all creeds and nationä may find a home. The contributions already sent in make a small-hearted church forever impossible. Would not I be a sorry spectacle for ange's and men if. in a church built by Israelites and catholics, as well as ail the styles oi people commonly called evangelical, I should, instead of the banker of the Lord (iod Almighty, raise a flattering rag of small sectarianism? If we had $.000,000 we would put it all in one grand monument to the mercy of God. Feople ask on all sides about what we shall build. I answer, it all depends on the contributions pent in from here and from the ends of the earth. I say now to all the baptists that we shall have in it a baptistry. I say to all episcopalians we shall have" in our services as heretofore at our communiontab!e portions of the liturgy. I say to catholics we shall have a cross over the pulpit and probably on the tower. I sao to the methodists we mean to sing thcry like the voices of many thunderings. I Fay to all denominations we mean to preach a religion as wide as heaven and as pood as God. We have said we had a total loss. But there was one exception. The only things we saved were the silver communion chalices, for they happened to be in another building, and 1 take that fact as typical that we are to be in communion with all Christendom. "I believe in the communion of saints!" I think if all the Brooklyn firemen and all insurance companies should search among those ruins of Srhermerhorn-st. they would not find a splinter as large as the tip end of the little finger marked with bigotry. And as it is said that the exhumed bricks of the walls of Babylon haVe in them the letter N, standing for Nebuchadnezzar, I declare to yoa that if we ever get a sew church the letter we should like

to have on every stone and every timber would be the letter C, for that would stand both for Christ and for catholicity. The last two words I uttered in the old church Fridav night, some of you may remember, were "Hallelujah! Amen!" The two words that I utter now as most expressive of my feelings in this our first service after the baptism of fire are, Hallelujah ! Amen ! "None of these things move me." . ' We are kept in this mood by two or three considerations. The first is that (iod rules. In what way the church took fire I do not know. It has been charged on the lightnings. Well, the Lord controls the lightnings, lie managed them several thousands of years before our electricians were born. "The bible indicates that, though they flash down the 6ky recklessly, God builds for them a road to travel. In the psalms it is said: "He made a way for the lightning and the thunder." Ever since the time of Benjamin Franklin the world has been trying to tame the lightnings, and they seem to be quite well harnessed, but they occasionally kick over traces. But though we cannot nuwter great natural forces God can and does, and that God is our father and best friend, and this thought gives us confidence. We are also reen forced by the increased consolation that comes from confraternity of sorrow. The people who, during the hist sixteen years, sat on the other side of the aisle, whose faces were familiar to you, but to whom vou had never spoken you greeted them this week with smiles and tears as you said: "AVcll, the old place is gone." You did not want to seem to cry and so you swept the 6leeve near the corner of your eye and pretended it was the sharp wind made your eyes weak. Ah! there was nothing" the matter with your eyes; it was vour soul bubbling over. I tell you that it is impossible to sit for years around the same church fireside and not have sympathies in common. Somehow ycu feel that you would like those people on the other side of the aisle, about whom you know but li'tle, prospered, and pardoned, and bless d, and saved. You feel as if you are in tin- same boat, and you want to glide up the same harbor and want to disembark at the .same wharf. If yon put gold and iron and lead and zinc in sulficient heat they will me!t into a conglomerate mass, and I really feel that last Sabbath's fire has fused us all, grosser and finer natures, into one. It seems as if we all had our hands on a wire connected with an electric battery, and when this church sorrow started it thrilled through the whole circle, and we all felt the shock. The ol.lest man and the youngest child could join hands in this misfortune. Grandfather said: "1 expected from thope altars to he buried ;" and on of the children from last Sabbath cried, 'Hi rand pa, that place was next to our own house." Yea, we arc supported and confident in this tim by the cross of Christ. That is used to the tire. On the dark day when Jesus died the lightning struck it from above, and the flames of hell flashed up from beneath. That tearful, painful, tender, blessed cross still stands. On it we hang all our hopes; beneath it we put down all our sins; in the light of it we expect to make the rest of our pilgrimage. Within sight of such a sacrifice who can feel he has it hard? In the sight of such a symbol who can be discouraged, however great the darkness that may come down upon him? Jesus lives! The loving, patient, sympathizing, mighty Jesus! It shall not be told on earth, or in hell, or in heaven that three Hebrew children had the son of God beside them in the tire, and that a whole church was forsaken by the Lord when they wont through a furnace about two hundred feet wide. O, Lord Jesus! 6hall we take out of thy hand the flowers and the fruits, and the brightness and the joys, and-then turn away because thou dost give us one cup of bitterness to drink? Oh, no, Jesus! we will drink it dry. But how it is changed! Blessed Jesus ! what hast thou put into the cup to sweeten it? Why, it has become the wine of heaven, and our souls grow strong ! I come now and place both of my feet deep down into the blackened ashes of our consumed church, and I cry out with an exhilaration that I never felt since the day of my soul's emancipation: "Victory! Victory! through our Lord Jesus Christ!" "Vour harp, ye trembling paint, I'own from the willows take; Loud to tho pr:iise ot lor? divine Bid every birin, awake." We are also re-enforced by the catholicity that I have already referred to. We are in the academy to-day, not because we have no other place to go. Last Sabbath morning at 0 o'clock we had but one church; now we have about thirty, all at our disposal. Their pastors and their trustees say: "You may take our main audience rooms, you may take our lecturerooms, you may take our church parlors, you may baptize in otir baptisteries, and sit on our anxious-seats." Oh ! if there be any larger-hearted ministers or largerhearted churches anywherethan in Brooklyn, tell me where they are, that I may go and see them before I die. The millenium has come. People keep wondering when it is coming. It has come. The lion and the lamb lie down together, and the tiger eats straw like an ox. I should like to have seen two oi" the old-time bigots, with their swords, fighting through that great fire on Schermerhorn-st last Sabbath. I am sure the 6 words would have melted and they who wielded them would have learned war no more. I can never say a word against any other denomination of Christians. I thank God I never have been tempted to do it. I cannot be a sectarian. I have been told I ought to be and I have tried to be, but I have not enough material in me to make such a structure. Every time I get the thing most done there comes a fire, or something else, and all is gone. The angels of God shako out on this air, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." I do not know but I see on the horizon the first gleam of the morning which shall unite all denominations in one organization, distinguished only by the locality as in apostolic times. It was then the church of Thyatira, and the church of Thessalonica,and the church of Antioch, and the church of Laodicea, So I do not know but that in the future history, and not far otr either, it may be eimplv a distinction of locality and not of cued, as the church of New York, the church of Brooklyn, the church of Boston, the church of Charleston, the church of Madras, the church of Constantinople, the church of America. My dear brethren, we cannot afTord to be severely divided. Standing in front of tho great foes of our common Christianity we want to put on the whole armor of God and march down in solid column, shoulder to shoulder 1 One commander! One triumph. The trumpet sriTe a martial strain o Israel 1 Rird the . for the flight ; Arlv, the combat to maintain; Arise, and put thy foes to flight. We also feel re-enforced by the thought that we are on the way to a heaven that can never burn down. Fires may sweep through other cities, but I am" glad to know that the New Jerusalem is fire-proof. There will be no. engines rushing through those streets; there will bo r.o temples consumed iu that city. Coming to the doors of that church we will find them open, resonant with songs, and not cries of fire. .Oh, ray dear brother and sister, if this short lane of lif-j comes up so soon to that blessed place what is the use of our worrying? I hive felt a good many times this week like Father Taylor, the sailor preacher. He got in a long sentence while lie was preaching one day and lost himself, and could not find his way out of the sentence. He Ftcppcd and said: "Brethren, I haye lost

the nominative of this sentence and things are generally mixed up, but I am bound for the kingdom anywhow." And during this "last week, when I saw the rushing to and fro and excitement, I said to myself, "1 do not know just where we shall ".start again, but I am bound for the kingdom anyhow." I do not want to go just yet. I want to be pastor of this people until I am eighty-nine years of age, but I have sometimes thought that there are such glories ahead that 1 may be persuaded to go a little earlier for instance, at eighty-two or eighty-three; but I really think that if we could have an appreciation of what God has in reserve for us we would want to go, stepping right out of the Academy of music into the glories of the skies. Ah! that is a good land. Why, they tell me that in that land they never have a heartache. They tell nto "that a man might walk 500 years in that land and never see a tear or hear a sigh. They tell me that our friends who have left us and gone there, their feet are radiant as tho sun, and that thev take hold of the hand of Jesus familiarly, and that they open their hand and see in the palm of it a healed wound that must have been very cruel before it was healed. And they tell me that there is no winter there, and that they never get hungry or cold, and that the sewing-girl never wades through the snow-bank to her daily toil, and that the clock never strikes 12 for the night, but only 12 for the day. Sec that licht in th window. I wonder who set it there. "Oh," you say, "my father that went into glory must have set that light in the window." No. Guess again. "My mother, who died fifteen years ago in Jesus, I think, must have set that light there." No. Guess again. You say: "My darling little child, that last summer I put awav for the resurrection, I think she must have set that light there in the window." No. Guess again. Jesus set it there, and He will keep it burning until the day we put our finger to the latch of the door and go in to be at home forever. Oh, when my sight gets black in death, put on ray eyelids that sweet ointment. When in the hist weariness I cannot take another step, just help me put my foot on that door-siil. When my ear catches no more the voices of wife and child let mo go right in to have my deafness cured by the stroke of the harpers, whose fingers fly over the strings with the anthems of the free. Heaven never burns down! The nres of the last day, that are already kindled in the heart of the earth, but are hidden because God keeps down the hatches those internal fires will after a while break through the crust, and the plains, and the mountains, and the sas will be consumed, and the flames will fling their long arms into the skies; but all the terrors of a burning world will do no more harm to that heavenly temple than the tiros of the setting sun which kindle up the window-glass of the house on vonder hill-top. Oh, blessed land! But llo not want to go there until I sec the Brooklyn tabernacle rebuilt. You say: ' Will it be ?" You might as well ask me if tho sun will rise to-morrow morning, or if the next spring will put garlands on its head. You and I may not see it you and I may not live to see it ; but the church of God does not stand on two legs nor on a thousand legs. How did the Israelites get through the Red sea? I suppose somebody mav have come and paid: "There is no need of trying; you will get your feet wet; you will spoil your clothes; you will drown yourselves. Whoever heard of getting through such a sea as that?" How did they get through it? Did ihey go back? No." Did they go to the right? No. Did they go to the left? No. They went forward in the strength of tho Lord Almighty; and that is the wav we mean to get through

the Bed sea. By going forward. But says someone: "If we should build a larger church would you be able with your voice to fill it?" Why, I have been wea-ing myself out for the last sixteen years in trying to keep my voice in. (Jive me room where I can preach the glories of Christ and the grandeurs of heaven. ' Forward ! We have to march on, breaking down all bridges behind us, making retreat impossible. Throw away your knapsack if it impedes your march. Keep your sword-arm free. Strike for Christ and His kingdom while you may. No people ever had a better mission than you are sent on. Prove yourselves worthy. If I am not fit to be your leader, set me aside. The brightest goal on earth that I can think of is a country parsonage amid the mountains. But I am not afraid to lead you. 1 have some dollars; they are at your disposal. I have good physical health; it is yours as long as it lasts. I have enthusiasm of soul; I will not keep it back from your service. I have some faith in (iod, and I shall direct it toward the rebuilding of our new spiritual house. Come on, then. I will lead you. Come on, ye aged men, not yet passed over Jordan! Give us one more lift before you go into the promised land. You men in middle life, harness all your business faculties to this enterprise. Young man, put the fire of your soul into this work. Let women consecrate their persuasiveness and persistence to this cause and they will be preparing benedictions for their dying hour and everlasting rewards; and if Satan really did burn that tabernacle down, ns some people' say he did, he will find it the poorest job he ever undertook. Good-bye, old tabernacle. I put my fingers to'my lip and throw a kiss to tho departed church. In the last day may we be able to meet the songs there sung, and the prayers there offered, and the sermons there preached. Good-bye, old place, where some of us felt the göspel peace and others heard the last message ere they (led away into the skies! Good-bye, Krooklyn tabernacle of lSTll! But welcome our new church. ( I see it as plainly as though it were already built!) Your gates wider, your songs more triumphant, your ingatherings more glorious. Rise out oi the ashes and greet our waiting vision ! Burst on our souls, O day of our church's resurrection ! By vour altars may we be prepared for the hour when the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. Welcome, Brooklyn tabernacle of 1S90? Taking Time Iy the Forelock. Boston Transcript. Stranger (at the hotel) "I rather like the looks of your town, and I don't know but I'd settle here if I thought " Resident "Oh, air, I can assure you that everything is about as perfect as it can be. The moral of the people are " Straneer "No doubt, but the fact is I'd rather hear about their vices. If I Bettle here I shall eo into business, and I'd like to know beforehand just what line I'd better go into. Kate time, you know." All Hope Not Gone Yet. Hon ton Transcript. "It's no use," sighed the dejected brakeman. ''Time was when a brakeman was sure to get killed within a month after going on the rond; but now bere I've been a-courting death for the last ten weeks, and I havn't cot so much as a mashed finger. I'm tired of life and I'm bound to d.e. By jinj;o! I have it. I'll leave the road and get a job as electric lineman!" Verdict according to the facts. Court Seen. , Puck. "Well, I can't see any fun in attendin' court," said an observant old lady. "Every time a wit. nessgoesto tell nythinj that's got anything to do with the case, all the lawyers jump ud and holler, and the jedge rules the testimony OUU" Had Scheme. If omorlitika. Postmaster "The letter is too heavy; it wants another stamp." Countrywoman "Why, that will make it heavier tili!"

THE SHORT-HAND CLASS

NINTH LESSON THIS MORNING. Our Popular Coarse of Ten Lessons En. Joyed by 51 any An Easy, Practical . Course In the Pitiunn System The Last Lesson. f Prepared ereial!y for Thk Sentinel hy Prof. Eiden .Moran of St. Louis, author of the "Reporting xtyle'' wrie of stenographic instruction books. Copyrighted. rtirase Writing;. rh rasing is a science w ithin itself. It has been characterized as an "art within V-f-' v. t -to x t TRANSLATE. n - - 7l . ' N 21 FROM RAILWAY WINDOWS. RHINE PICTURES BY MR. WAKEMAN. rrom London To Middle Kurope Scenes Fu Route The Valley cf the Rhine l'roin Cologne To Mnyence "Sweet lHnjen"-Other Notable Places. Mave.vce, Oct. 15. Copyrighted. In leaving the world's metropolis for middle ' Europe by way of Dover and Calais the traveler pa?fes over London. A kindly familiarity with back windows, with tiny flower gardens upon the tops of hundreds upon hundreds of London houses, with odl places where teople peek rest and quiet away above the roar and rumble of the street," with sparrow-houses and dovecotes, with miles upon miles of rows of chimney pots, looking, one half fancies, like quaint dragoons on guard in faded architecture of the roofs of churches and I cathedrals, rich with the historic associations of centuries come before and into the vision with a glowing and imagery, that bring the olden tales of this mother city of the Knglitdi race back to the memory and heart, like sweet old songs resung. As we ncared the channel not only did the scenery become bold and rugged, but the night came down with a storm, and as we rushed through the last long tunnel and sped along the feet of the white chalk dill's, the roar of the sea was louder upon the great stone quays than the din of this fast mail train, as we rushed in upon old Dover town. Sorting us like sheep, we were at last huddled aboard the "Foam" the most appropriate name, as even alongside the docks the spume of the sea was dashed over us the luggage and continental mail somehow taken on, and, with a great lurch from which she only recovered to stagger in another direction, our steamer began ricochetting across the channel. You who are to come after, listen to the voice of experience and never cross from Dover to Calais Bave by day. It is a weird experience by storm and night. Through the noxious vapors could be seen, at either side of the little cabin, in tiers the one slightly above another capacious bunks, each provided with a leather cushion and a surge-covered pillow, and nearly all occupied by men and women in all imaginable attitudes of human suffering, or preparation against torturing experience. Over yonder were a party of Americans, evidently an entire family, cursing everything outside of America, and struggling with each other as their physical convulsions increased. Beyond, were three old friars, evidently from some of the cloisters in France, bevond Amiens, sober and grave in their brown, rough dress, but ever and anon compelled to be a3 other human?, and bearing their miserere with holy fortitude. Opposite were flighty Frenchmen, full of antics in their torture, and French women graceful and pretty even in this most pititully leveling of all" ills, sea-sickness. The horrible air and scenes of the cabin force you back on deck, where all are knocked about fearfully. There is no escape. All bravery, resolution, supreme will power, are of no avail. You succumb. For a good hour every aspiration and ambition of life is swept aw ay. But at last utter exhaustion comes; and then the storm which 6weeps up the channel pounds new life into you ; the salt spray dashes into your face and revives you ; and, crawling a"long the deck to where the four grim wheel-men are, the head wheel-man comforts you with the consolation : "Doan't mind it, mon. The best there be doan't be able to stand on their legs hereabout!" Away to tho rieht was peon the light at the French Cape of Griz Xez; and, as we began skirting the coast, here and there peeped out flashes from the coastwise villages where the late revel or vigil was being kept. Soon the pier-head light at Calais glowed upon us. Over the pier, where the eea played mad havoc, was a continual wreathing of phosphorescent glowing, like that which covered the channel behind us. Here were the fantastic fishing craft, and the bellying "lighters" at one side, and on the other, as the haggard and desperately 6ick passengers crowded to the gangway, rows of French porters bowing and scraping and chattering gliblj. The weird cressets flared over the picture strangely, and a flavor of decaying salty things, of half-digested Cognac and of penetrating garlic was over all. What a din was there! With a bump and a swash, our steamer wa3 finally made fust. Then the perilous ascent to tho docks, the keen-eyed customs ollieers, tho skirmishes and heavy engagements vilh tho porters, the cries of the train-guards, the miserable entanglements and wildeyed sorties, and finally the mad haste to the diCcrent trains for Faris, for Austria and for Germany 1 Then th train moved out of the groaning docks past frowning

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NS So IV- wn COri battlements, past the quaint old rookeries of the seaport town, underneath the shadows of the great Calais light-house, past the out-jutting roofs and under overreaching arches; until finally, with a bump that brings you to your feet, you are within another din, where the trains are made up for all parts of the continent. Here porters with blue blouses and redtrimmed caps; guards with gold lace and itching palms; t-l gens d' armes with bow-legs and Q ; .otic stateliness, again hustle you; tear our tickets from you; throw your luggage after jou; threaten you; commisserate you; wheedle vou; take your pourboire and hurl you, as from a catapult, into entire compartments, where, with all the torture-demons of tho night channel-trip accompanying you, the fitful ßlcep that at last comes is not broken until, after twelve hours of Belgium night and German day, the jerky train hvsterically halts at the beautiful city Cologne. It is well for travelers pacing through Cologne to know that all trains, for some inscrutable reason, remain fer nearly two hours. This gives opportunity for a delicious lunch at the station, a brief drive through the principal streets of the old walled city, and, as the great cathedral is not a stone's throw from the railway, a fine ramble about this stupendous structure. I confess it did not fill me with the awe many profess to experience. There has been a wondrous amount of work about the place; but that they have been at such cycles of j-ears and infinite pains in finishing the great pile seems to betoken great laziness rather than great accomplishment. This much is certainly true. There is faulty proportion in the exterior ot the structure; for, with its mighty and lofty spires, and with the inconsiderable buildings all about the cathedral, affording fine contrast, the majestic in effect has been very far from reached. Again on our way", the valley of the Rhine is srread before us, a noble panorama for nearly an hundred miles; indeed, during all the distance from Cologne to Mayence there are constant beautv, neverending picturesqueness, occasional grandeur; but place the same legendary and historic interest along the Hudson, upon the shores ot the upper Ohio, along the upper Mississippi, and in either of the three latter localities there would live an equal charm. Although to the right and left there are numberless castles in ruin, partially restored, or fully restored and occupied, regarding each of w hich a volume, rich with interest, might be written, after the castle of Godesburg which was erected in the thirteenth century by the archbishop of Cologne, destroyed by the doughty Bavarians just 300 years ago, and is now the property of the empress dowager of Germany is passed, the most interesting view is given as the great valley of the Rhine narrows near the old and ancient city of Bonn, where there are tho noted university with its fine faculties, its interesting cathedral, museum, famous coin collection, and a great monument to Beethoven, the immortal creator of symphonies. There to the left stretches the grand range of mountains called the Siebenbirge Seven mountains crowned by the lofty Konigswinter. They are longdrawn mountain ridges, like softly outlined majestic billows, which, as we pped along their bases, ever changed in beauty and grandeur. At every point where outjuts a precipice, or an apparently inaccessible crag, is a gray old ruin or lofty fortress, from which ever float the colors of some member of the German nobility. The poet, the artist, the dreamer, need go no further iu the Rhine country than Bonn and the Seven mountains. Soon after scores of villages ; of lofty crags, surmounted by ruined castles; of quaint churches; of p'leasant groups gathering the lato crops, or plowing anew tho fields; of every fashion of life in lowly garb and mein, doing all things still in the olden, burdensome way you reach Coblenz, where the legend-haunted Mosel flows into the Rhine. Coblenz is entitled to veneration. It was founded, so tho story goep, eight years before Christ. Quite a long time this to develop its 35,000 inhabitants. By being the capital of the Prussian Rhenish provinces, it is very stately and formal; and, I am told, one has a soldier instantly at his side here in Coblenz should he dare converse above a whisper. But as one looks out through the blue sky to the bights of Fhrenbreitstein and its splendid castle, built nearly a centurv ago at a cost of 8,000,000 thalers, the artist's instincts are certainly touched. Near by is Fort Sayn, destroyed by the French in tho thirty years' war, tho abbey Sayn, and the splendid castle of Sayn ; while at tho foot of the mountain is a sort of European "happy family," at Neuweid, where there are 10,000 inhabitants, comprising Frotestants, Catholics, Herrenhuter, Mennonites, Quakers and Jews. "As peaceful as at Neuwcid," is a common saying throughout all Germany. Ikis one story, over end over, up the Rhine, but to me, "Sweet Bingen on the Rhine" seemed to possess the deepest interest. It is a pretty place of itself, nestled.

lengthy phrases than a person who writes a careless hand. 7. Thrase uniformly; that is, do not join words together at one time and separate them at another. To the many earnest and faithful students who have pursued this course, we bid you be encouraged; be resolute; be patient. You now have a thorough knowledge of the theory of short-hand, and a fair knowledge of "the practice. We exhort j'ou to keep on. Spenisome time every day in careful practice. It will pay you; there will be nothing to regret. You will become swift and skillful reporters in due time. May the highest success be yours is the wish of your instructor.

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SET TO riATB 10. ll.earri color coral relate camel million tunnel analogy. 2 HaoK hu bum hole hire whack Abraham tnavhem. 8 W all wore swiuc wine twin dwell quack Ciuinh 4 Option pa?ion ftaüoa teiaraüoa fashion physician compensation enslave. 5 I'rcoastin8 vesl gaed against boaster fluster pun6 belter order father weather cumber anchor 7 Boat moat noto gate plight died sobbed blado Toted political. 8 Coats freichts paint gift draft blend strained wend rnend weld. 0 Modo send old sword middle needle failed poured attempt loneed. 10 Core call cull chart chill counterbalance circumstanco selfish. 11 Complain Introduce recommendation recognize cast ings yourself ourselves friendship. 12 Weed war wofeo wit web yield yoke youth Yeddo. Translate Ls 13, 14 and 15. XXrLASATlOX. A large hook prefixed to r, m, and n, Indicates I, and r when joined to .LI. A tick Joined to i, g, I, r, to, or tr, expresses A. When hay eannot well be written, a small dotlsusei L2. A small hook prefixed to ,r,m, or n, expresses w. A large w-hook Is also used la the double conBonants tw, die. Lie, and gir. See L 3. A large final hooi Indicates the syllables tion, don, Uon, ehion, etc. "When precedes, this syllable Is represented by a little curl on the opposite side. See L 4. This curl, when initial, stands for n, as la enslave. A narrow loop expresses , and a broad one s!r. L 5. Doubling a curve adds tr, dr, or ihr. L 6. Half-length stems add t, or d. See Ls 7, 8 and 9. Observe 1st, that Ms not pronounced until all vowels and hooks which are appended to the stem have first been sounded; 2nd, that $, if final, is sounded after t; that I, r, m, and n, are shaded for d (L 9) except when a Look Is cttached. L 8. A vowel, to be read after a stem and before hook or r, ls struck throueh the stem, if a dash, or if a dot is chapped to a small circle, preceding if a long, and Jollouinn if a thort vowel. L 10. Learn also Prtflxet and4x, (L 11), and CoaUicenit, 20

iüOHTED. ALL Bloii Ts' Jvti-EB . ti. as it is between the mountains where the impetuous Nahe rushes down, w ith great noise and pretension for so small a stream, into the Rhine. Quaint, sleepy, of a forgotten age, it rests there as a sweet picture of a poetic past. Bingen is at the foot of the Rochus mountain, upon which are the ruins of the aneient fortiried castle Klopp, in which Henry IV was imprisoned. Upon the summit of the mountain is the Roman chapel of Bo bus. Opposite Bingen, across the Rhine, rises a grand mountain, upon the top of which, and circling away many miles to the right, is the Neiderwald (low forest) From the temple here, it is said, can be had the finest view of the whole Rheingan. At t!v further edge of the mountain, conn:v nd ng a noble view, stands the co!o.-. 1 siatue of Germania, commemorative of the late Fraoco-Prus-ßian war, while the tide of the mountain which descends toward the Rhine, and forever smiles upon Bingen with joyous plenty, is one of the most famous vineyards m all Germany, its purple glory making the little village below, Rudesheim, famous the world over for its wine. On arrival at the fortified city of Mayence, in due order, I visited the famous pontoon bridge across the Rhine; tho splendid railway bridge, with its mighty fortiried castles for defense at either approach ; the great castle of the city ; the bishop's palace; the Gutenberg-l'latz, and the noted monument to dear old Gutenberg; the Mayence theater, looking for all tho world, from the interior, like a mossgrown gas reservoir; the Bierbich castle, and the splendid statue of Germany's immortal poet, Schiller. Then came an inspection of the great fortifications of Mayence. These co-sts 15,000,000 marks. Ten million came from an imperial treasury, and 5,000,000 was levied upon the city. They are of gigantic proportions and completely surround the city, though in my judgment thev are too near the vital spot intended to be protected. An enemy's shot or shell which could reach any portion of the stupendous woiks could pass over them, and thus work great and even absolute ruin to this, the nio.st important base of military supElies in all Europe. Returning to my otel, I was reminded that I had not seen the one great object of interest in Mayence, the might' dom. On my way thither, though it is not a quarter of a mile from the station, I was so interested in the quaint, narrow streets of the city gome of them not over eight feet in width, but with handsome shops and cales within the dark streets, lighted all day long with gas or candles that the gloaming of the evening had come down upon the town before I had reached the dom, or cathedral. The business part of the city is built all about the great pile, up against it, into it, under its roofs. Groping in and about weird old courts, I finally came upon a stupendous gate, in which was a little iron wicket, half open. Entering this, I stumbled about for a time, finally coming upon a plump maid who was working away at a gigantic pump. Ah, .no, the Dom was closed, she said. After 6 o'clock no sacrilegious traveler could enter. I reckoned differently. Away over there it seemed a mile distant was a thread of light streaming through the mold, the ruins and the ivy. Barking my shins and bumping my head much, brought me to it. Peeping through the lattice I paw an ancient verger doing some sort of religious service all to himself. I knocked at the door. The old man seemed horrified at the sacrilege. Finally he bade me enter. I spoke eloquently with my hand. It was full of small coin, among which, I remember, there was some white money. What a magic thing this money has, indeed I In a few moments the clanging of the gates, the creaking of the hinges and the Hare of the verger's lighted cresset awoke the sleepingpigeons within the gables, and soon down, down, down, and up, up, up, and then down and up, anil winding about, we came to the heart of the sacred place. It was all told me in whispers, most reverently. It was all showed to me in stealth and "gloom. The great font with its olden brasses flared back at us reproachfully. The wonderous crucifix seemed to move and change restlessly. The tombs in stone and iron and brass had, somehow, n horrible movement among them. Tho great paintings with their oaken frames shifted alout uneasily. The massive pillars and columns loomed through the shadows mightily. And away up there, hight upon bight," the groined arches lessened and grew, and retreated and disclosed until one got dizzy with looking. One point of light only, this from the very apex of the dome, told of the dying day without. Westminster abbey, fit Paul's, the Cologne cathedral, one and all have no measure of the solemn grandeur of the majestic interior of this great pile, begun so long ago that the time of its beginning is lost in tradition, and built in such proportions and strength that it will remain when a thousand other great edifices of our time are crumbled and forgotten. Edoab L. Wakeman.

CHOICE OEMs PROFESSION.

SUGGESTIONS BY AN ARCHITECT. Wno Also Gives Some VnluaMe And TraetU caI Information On ilouae Uuilding A Tower IIoue of Moderate Cost And How To Build IU New York, Oct. 25. Copyright. For the information of boys who are considering the choice of a profession it may be said that the profession of architecture ia not crowded. The number of architects in the United States does not exceed 6,X, all told. There is a rapidly developing appreciation of architectural services among the people that promises a vast deal of work for the future. A significant fact is that architects' sons often follow their fathers' profession. The prizes are lew, they are in every calliDg, mmm U:r .....i tbit J fi " ".-I - " "V - M - J rEKSPECTIVE VIEW. but the routine of work is varied and interesting. A '"taste for drawing," which, in young people, usually means a simple facility of hand in copying, is of no particular value. The architect must design, invent, construct. Drawings are essential to express his ideas, but they are only the shadows of his work, not the substance. A pood tos of a boy's taste and of his fitness for the profession is to require him to indicate what he considers the best designed and planned houses of a neighborhood or of a published volume of de signs. Relow will be found a brief description of the design illustrating this article: Size of structure: Width (front), 30 feet; side (depth), A'.t feet. FIRT FI.OOTi. Right of stories: Cellar, 7 feet; first story, 0 feet 6 inches; second story, 9 feet; attic story, 8 feet. Materials for Exterior Walls: Foundations, brick ; first story, clapboards ; second story, shingles; roof, shingles. Interior Finish: Hard white plaster and softwood trim; hardwood staircase; porch floor and ceiling oiled and finished in natural colors; quaint leaded panes in hall windows. Exterior Colors All clapboards, gray stone color; shingles of second story an I tower (up to roof i and of gables, stained light gray; underside of gable overhang, corner boards, window and door casings, water table, all cornices and belts, medium ,1 L e 'fl SECOND Ft.OOR, dark drab; sashes, white; doors and blinds, medium dark drab, with a lighter shade of drab for panels and slats; roofs and roof rido-es. stained light green; foundation walls and chimneys, re.L & Accommodations l tif-pri'-Y -upms and their sizes, closets, r tc, are -TTVwn bv the plans given herewith. There U a cel. lar under the whole bouse. Two Vnis and a hall finished in the attic. Tht balcony is arranged to be inclosed in glas when desired. Sliding doors between the parlor and dining-room. If preferred, the stairwav mav start up from the rear of tho hall instead" of from the front. No fireplaces are included, but they may !e introduced in all rooms of the lirst and second stories at an average cost (including mantels) of $öO each. Cost For localities where prices for materials and labor are about the same as t he prices in the vicinity of New York City, $.',500. IL W. Snorrr.ix. A Suitable Flower. IHurlins:on Free Pre.. Miss Debut "Von know, every lady is expected to wertr her favorite flower at the reception Tnelav eveninir." Miss Oldaiayd 'Indeed? And what hall you wear?" Miss Debut "Oh. a rose hud, I think." Mi?s Oldruayd "Dear me. I don't know what to wear. Can't you suchest something?" Miss Dehnt "How would a ipray of eldrr flowers go?" Not Much at Stake. Time. F.astern Woman "You're married, you say! Ah. marriaee is a lottery!" Western Woman (calmly) "Yes, but I only hold a tenth ticket. You see, my cu&band'i a mormon elder." AllowancelTex Sifting. Mr. Ilanpy "Ye, ir. I make ny wife a re olar allowance every week. Dok "t you yours?" Mr. Ilenpeck "No-o. bhe males me tn aU low&nce when I earn enouiW"

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