Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-02-18

that in a man which they damnate in a woman.
And so the world has had for offending women
scourges and objurgation, and for Just one
offense she becomes an outcast, while for men
whose lives have been sodomic for 20 years the
world swings open its doors of brilliant wei,
come, and they may sit in Legislatures and
Senates and Parliaments or on thrones. Un-
like the Christ of my text, the world writes
mans misdemeanor in dust, but chisels a
woman's offense with great capitals upon in,
effaceable marble. For foreign lords and
princes, whose names cannot even be mentioned
in respectable circles abroad because they are
walking lazarettos of abomination our Amerl-
can princesses of fortune wait, and at the nrst
beck sail out with them into the blackness of
darkness forever And in what are called
higher circles of society there is now not only
and Gb fGregn but an
imitation of foreign dissoluteness.
like an Englishman and 1 like
an American but the sickest creature on earth
is an American playing an Englishman so
ciety needs to be reconstructed on this subject.
Treat them alike, masculine crime and femm-
inc crime If you the one in granite, cut
dust, write the other in dust. No, no, says the
world. let woman 60 down and man go up.
What is that hear FLASHING into the East
river at midnight, and then there is gurgle as
of strangulation, and all is still. Never mind,
1t is only woman too discouraged to live.
Let the mills of the cruel world grind right on.
THE GREATEST LIBRARY.
But while speak Of Christ of the text, His
STOPPING down writing in the dust, do not think
underrate the literature of the dust. 1t is the
most solemn and tremendous of all literature.
1t is the greatest of all libraries. When Lay
ard exhuIned Nineveh he was only opening the
door of its mighty dust. The excavations of
Pompeii have only been the unclasping Of the
lids of volume of a nations dust. When Ad-
miral Farragut and his friends, few years ago,
visited that resurrected city, the house of Bal
bo who had been one of its chief citizens in its
prosperous days, was opened and a table was
spread in that house which l,Sl0 years
has been buried by volcanic eruption, and
Farragut and his friends walked over the
exquisite mosaics and under the beautiful
fresco and 1t almost seemed like being enter,
tanned by those who Is centuries ago had turned |
TO dust. Oh, this mighty literature OF the dust.
Where are the remains of Sennacherib and |
Attila and Epaminondas and Tamerlane and |
Cesar? Dustl Where are the heroes who |
fought on both sides at Ch8ronea, at Hastings, |
at Marathon, at Cressy, of the 10000 men who |
fought at Aglncourt, of the 250.0OO men who |
faced death at Jena, of the 400 900 whose armor |
glittered in the sun at Wagram, of the l. 900 600 |
men under Darius at Arbella, of the 264l, 600 |
men under Xerxes at Thermopyle? Dust!
Where are the guests who danced the floors |
of the Alhambra, or the Persian palaces of |
Ahasuerus? Dustl Where are the musicians
who played and the orators who spoke, and the
sculptors who chiSeled, and the architects who
built in all the centuries except our own?
Dust! The greatest library of the world. that
which has the widest shelves and the longest
aisles and the most multitudinous volumes and
the vastest wealth, is the underground library
1t is the royal library, the continental library,
the hemisphere library, the planetary library,
cases will be opened, add all these scrolls un-
rolled ana all these volumes unclasped and as
easily as in your library or mine we take up a
book, blow the dust off of it. and turn over its
pages, so easily will the Lord of the Resurrec-
tion pick up out of this library of dust every
VOLUME OF HUMAN LIFE
and open it and read it and display it. And
the volume will be rebound, to be set in the
royal library of the Kings palace. or in the
prison library of the self-destroyed. Oh, this
mighty literature of the dusti 1t is not so won
derful after all that Christ chose, instead of an
nks tand the impressionable sand on the floor
Of an ancient temple, and, instead OF a hard
pen, put forth his forefnger with the same
kind of nerve, and muscle, and bone, and flesh,
rs that which makes up our own forefinger,
Ind wrote the awful doom of hypocrisy and
-uIl and complete forgiveness forrepentant sin
lers, even the worst.
And now 1 can believe that which read, how
hat mother kept burning candle in the
window every night for ten years. and one night
Tery late poor waif of the street entered. The
Iged woman said to her. ''Sit down by the fire."
md the stranger said; Why do you keep that
That is to light my wayward daughter when |
he returns. Since she went away ten years
go my hair has turned white. Folks blame me
or worrying about her, but you see am her |
mother and sometimes, half a dozen times
light, open the door and look out into the
darkness and cry Lizzie! Iizzer But l ,
must not tell you any more about my
rouble for 1 guess, from the way you
ry you have trouble enough OF your own. ]
Why, how cold and sick you seem! Oh, my! J
an it be? Yes. you are LIZZIE my own lost j
hid Thank God that you are home againr'
md what time of rejoicing there was in that
ouse that night! And Christ again stooped I
own, and in the ashes of that hearth, now /.
GIFTED up not more by the great blazing logs i
han by the joy of a reunited household wrote
he same hberating words that he had written
lore than 1.S00 years ago in the dust of the
erusalem temple. Forgiveness! A word broad +
nough and high enough to let pass through it r
II the armies of heaven, million abreast on
'hlte horses nostril to nostril, flank to flank