Buffalo Courier Express from Buffalo, New York • 5

II I Sixteen Pages, Pages 5 to jjxrPALio, sxthpayJ juisrE 23, 1889. geographical indirectness and dissimilarity of i 1 ii. 1 Points About Henry Norbert's Story 5.71, I Theodore Knight. A CITY WHICH THINKS IT DOESN'T GET ITS DUES BUT WHICH Of the Deiilh of WRITTEN FOR THE BUFFALO HARLAND of courage and enlightenment it is he who does think of death. Not to think of death is ostrich-like, is indeed puerile and cowardly, and I may say morbid.

the one inevitable and universal experience, the ona birthright in which all men' share alike, the common goal to which all life, is but a progress, the conclusion, the soh kion; the fifth act of this mystifying, inexplicable drama of life not think of it 1 Here is li, a Sphynx-enigma, perpetually vexing the mind and the soul of the man who has a mind and a soul to vex. There is death, which holds tha enigma's key. And yet you say, don't think of death, banish it, blink it, forget' it. That, I tell you, is stupid and superficial, puerile, cowardly, and morbid. What theory, what hypothesis, what, principle of life can you frame, except a you think of death? And soma 'theory principle of life, for daily use, you must frame, or else you live, you cannot transact the business of life.

Furthermore, according to your conception of death, your assumption of what death holds in store, must your whole life's meaning, purpose and duty ba shaped and colored: in one word, your ethics. And finally, what semblance of a religion can you have, if its cardinal dogma does not deal with death? Not think of death! How think-ing is he who does 'not think of death 1 You rivet your ga2e on the surface of things, and shun tha dark places. You feed yourself upon the outward appearance of things, and leave the inwant realities un-tasted. You consider only the tif jinsitory, and forget the eternal. But how, ir.j-you are human, bow can vou thinkivic of death? interests.

no men win ue iub -iiyi Pittsburtf? Will it be Buffalo Some yery costly and magnificent public buildings have just recently inaugurated an architectural era: in Pittsburg, You have read elaborate descriptions of. our new and imposing court-house. It is of granite, and cost 'some $3,000,000. The new postoffice building, is slowly going up at a proposed cost of $1,500,000. It ts of granite also.

1 tie Duquesne Club, composed of millionaire iron and glass manufacturers, has just completed a six-story club-house built ot red sandstone, at a cost of $250,000. The Masonic Hall another solid stone structure of immense heicht. put up on the leadinjr avenue at cost of $125,000. In Allegheny the public library presented the city by Andrew Came gia is nearly, finished. In Pittsburg the commencement of the public library, pre sented that city by Mr- Carnegie also, is one ot trie enterprises ot tne luture.

A commission has been appointed for the purpose, and will shortly be handed Mr. Carnegie's $500, 000 for the work. The library in Allegheny is costing $250,000. The new court-house tvoefies the reienintr style of architecture in these err eat public buildings. It is Roman esaues.

Two splendly-built cabla railways have been in operation here for mora than a year, Thevare each five miles long, and are the legitimate outgrowth of the building boom reaching out to the suburban homes of me chanics I describe above. It would be hard to say what Pittsburg's Government needs most to improve it. A cool, level head; a careful, calculating mind, and a cautious, slowly-opening hand at the doors of the City Treasury, and behind th'e Financial Comptroller's desk, would perhaps result in a steadier reduction ot botn indebt edness and tax mill a go. f' -r-f .4 iJ' Buffalo Statistics for Comparison. estimate based on Directory I canvass.

1888....... 258.880 Assessed valuation, 1889. Increase in valuation over 1888. City tax-rate. 1889, $14.14 per $1,000 Cost of City government, ltHSU ,3,8, lZ3.ua Police fund; 1889 I i $77,773.95 Fire-department Fund.

1889. $332,025.01 Number of wards ......13 PICTURES FROM SYRACUSE. 1 The) John Crousa Memorial College and the New City Building. On another page of Thh Express to-day will ba found illustrations of two of Syracuse's fine new buildings, one of which is practically finished and tha other only begun. The former, tha Crouse Memorial College, is magnificent structure, built by John Crouse, the retired wholesale grocer, as a memorial to nis deceased wiie.

it was De- gun December 24, 1887, by Norcross Brothers ot Worcester, who finished tneir work May 15,, 1889. The building is constructed of Ktbbia Long Meadow red sandstone after, plans by Archimedes Russell, architect, of Svracuse. The 1 extreme length of. the building is 200 feet and the extreme breadth 162 The building is three stories high with basement, and height to top of tower is 172 feet. The building alone cost $273,000 the steam-heating apparatus, the Roosevelt organ, 000: the chime of nine bells, $8,000 furni ture, $15,000 to $20,000, making the total cost not tar from iKJoU.OOO.

The building was announced 'to be dedi cated on Saturday, June but i no yet ready, and. its tormai presentation to byra cuse University and dedication will not take place until it is complete in every particular. The exact data therefore is not known, but it will probably not be dedicated com mencement. I The construction ot tha new City Halt at Syracuse will begin at once, or as soon as tha old structure has been razed. It is to ba built of Onondaga limestone with red granite columns, after plans by Architect Charles Col ton or Syracuse, lne dimensions are length, 206 feet width, 78 feet beighth of tower, 163 feet.

The building will contain four stories including basement. The cost will be $238,750. Hughes Brothers of Syra cuse bava tha contract and will cave their work completed by August 1, 1890. Eighty five feet on the north side is to be taken up by tha Police Headquarters and will be supplied with gy nasi urn, armory, dormitories. separata apartments tor women, etc.

Blockaded by a Swarm of Bees, From tkt Meruit Republican. i A swarm of bees took possession of East Main Street in Meriden on Thursday and ef lectuany piocKaded travel lor an nour or more A few venturesome drivers sent their horses through the buzzing mass of bee but those horses which made the trip paid tha penalty of the folly of their owners. Several people were stung, and the neighbors were compelled to keep their windows closed. Even then the "pesky vermints" battered against tha windows in vain attempt to get inside. The affair created a genuine sensation.

Promi nent citizens, whose dignity had never before been impeached, turned up their collars -and. ran to escape the I fast-becoming maddened swarm. Finally the queen bee sailed over into the Main-street Baptist lot and lighted on a low branch of one of the evergreen trees. The whole swarm followed. and tha branch was buried knee-deep with bees in a jiffy.

Then the church janitor and Charles AHemeyer, the gardener, went 1 to work to cage the "critters." A keg was procured and placed at an angle under the limb, AHemeyer cut the limb off and his assistant bravely shook it over the keg. The queen bee went into the keg and the rest followed after a tew minutes, all ex cept a dozen or more, which were so excited that they couidn see tne keg or tne queen. I he keg was taicen away, put tne dozen or mora which were' left have been having fun at tha corner an tne aiternopn. Enbusrh. I From the Louisville Comritr-yournaJ.

A man was driving rapidly down the street when be accidentally ran over, a negro. Unable to stop his horses, the driver, true 'to his nature, called out "Hi. there get out of the way 1 At that moment tha dazed; negro, not much hurt, picked himself up and shouted in reply "Fo the lan sake, boss, yo am coram back agin, be ye 1 I 1 1 1 Strategy. lit'' Photographer My dear sir, can't you as sume a mOre smiling countenance, and throw off that jaded look Rev, V- Heigh ton Take ma as I am. I need a vacation this summer, and these pictures are for distribution among my parish ioners.1' I i I did but look and love awhile, t'Twas but for one half-hour.

to resist had no will, 'And now 1 have no power. To sigh' and wish Is all my Sighs which do heat impart; Enough to melt the coldest ice, Yet cannoij warm your heart! 1 'i Would your pity give my heart One corner in your breast. Twould learn ot yours tho: winning art, And quickly steal the rest. Buffalo, June 19th. WilULiAM Btruu AHtAU AT A LIVELY THE SAME.

he total estimated cost of the citv trov- 1 1 eminent? for this year is f3.514.763v and of course the recent levy of tax is figured out as sufficient to meet that sum. The cost of the municipal government last year was but a few thousand! dollars less than the estimate for this iyearv The Department of Public Safety will require for expenses this year 0fi4, 500.1 Within this department are the fire, and health bureaus. It includes a force of 50 policemen and one of the best-equipped and targest fire corps iri the world. Of the tqtal amount just stated 8309,000 go to the police and 8240,000 to the firemen. The Department Public Wors, embraces water-pumping stations, reservoirs, street and sewer parks, markets, and cityf property of all -descriptions, must havo $021,975.

this year, or but very little more thae it had last year. For the department of Public Charities, which attends to the city almshouses and farms and outdoor only is appropriated. The remainder of the 'three millions and more is devoted to various purposes, such as keeping up sinking funds, paying" interest on old debts, and calling: in and cancelling matured bonds, There a very large indebtedness banging over the tity from a scandal which came very nearly bankrupting the city some 20 years ago. A monster water-works was then built, and by mismanagement, both in the engineering construction of the engines.and the band-ling, of the the city, suddenly brought face to face with a serious crisis. The bank which held much of its the Nation Trust Company, burst, and the officials found, themselves almost unable to secure credit in the financial world.

Then the new. water-works engines broke down, and upon it being I discovered that tha. iron of which they were built was worthless, they naa to be- rebuilt at another enormous outlay of money, Loans were only made to Pittsburg in those days at an awfully high rate of interest, and bonds were issued the best inducements had to be offered financial Hence, the taxation now: has to be kept at a reasonably safe figure to permit tha payment pf this interest and the gradual extinguishment hi all the indebtedness. i Our Cjty are perhaps as satisfactory and economical a legislative body as can be found Jn any other city." They are large, owing to1 liberal representation from the 36 wards, but byia reduction in the: number of committees made by the new City Charter this liberal representation is kept well-organized in working gangs, as it were, and the whole is not set large as to be unwieldy. Not for five years has the charge of corruption stained the records of these councils.

Then nothing could be proved of the allegations of bribery and the matter dropped out of sight. Of course there is here, as in most all cities, the usual complaint of political bossism within the council mariic balls. It is charged that this has produced legislation of a monopolistic character, but when all such grumbling is sifted down it will be found to be no more, to have to more atrocious foundation, than the management and mismanagement of municipal legislatures in any other Pittsburg is both building up and building out. In ptny -cities -tbere-is a limit1 to the spread ofpopuation, owing ta geographical or political lines. But here our outskirts are large, and hang loosely on the parent frame.

There is indefinite space the people to spread over; livery year thousands ot new homes atei erected. These are principally small brick houses tor the middle class. And as this is metropolis of mechanics, the, mid die class the largest and tha most aggressive. The verr fact of Pittsburg not being confined in thei matter of room for dwelling houses has prevented the building of a single frencn nat or inner style 01 apartment bouses among us yet. i Our aristocratic quarter is known as East End," Every! year sees built up upon her beautiful; lawns new and costly' stone ami granite -You can average their cost at $125,000.

Imagine a section of Pitts burg built tip with palaces of that value and you will very soon drop the visions you have had of Pittsburg as the murky, black forest of mill smoke-stacks. Vulcan with bis bared and sooty! sits enthroned bere. That is true; butj don't you know, Vulcan married Venus, and for- his queen he must have-a home palace different from tha irvan throne- room. Marble; never flourished here as a building material on account bf tha smoky and sulphurous atmosphere, but tha stone and granite Chat defy such agencies has (riven the rich 'resident portion of Pittsburg massiveness found in no other city ot the continent! ,1 1 I I have i shown how Pittsburg is building out. Now to give you an idea of how she is building The business heart of tha city that is to say the mercantile and office section, for tha, mills and factories stretch for miles and mites along tier river-fronts is confined to a delta between the three rivers, and describing the shape of a monster tri angle.

Hills fence in this delta to the height of 800 and 400 sleet. This, too, is the oldest part of Pittsburg, being the portion originally laid out by young George Washington in tha days of old Fort Duquesne. As natural gas and the natural prowess of our manufacturing reputation brought more business es-tablisments year after year to Pittsburg, tha general volume of it had to flow through general offices or warehouses in this delta. There was no more on account of those eternal hills, to spread Out, so modern engineering triumphed by building up higher. For this reason the heart of Pittsburg is about five stories higher now than it was ten years since.

We have plenty of buildings here as high; as any in? New-York City. Some of our great corporations have erected structures which have, since become architecturally famous all over; the country on account 'of their massiveness and great cost. Among these are the Westinghouse building, which was built for: combined office interests Of that eminent inventor's natural gas, electric, air-brake and railroad appliance interests. It is, however; pre-eminent as the horn of the great natural-gas industry of the whole United States, for West-inghouse's Philadelphia Company" 1 furnishes the fuel if the future to ill of Western Pennsylvania, and that is two-thirds of all the natural-gas territory in the country. In 1888 there were erected in Pittsburg 2,764 new buildings at a cost of This year so far, the value of new buildings erected been $1, 953, 457.

asagain9t1.401,-035 for the same period in the previous year.1 During May, fcr instance, the building operations in this city were in excess of those of May, 1888, by $150,000. It. is fair to believe that the ratio of the first part of the year will kept up in tho balance of 1889; so that the year will be far ahead of any of its predecessors. this building boom will con tinue for years to come. There are no rival cities in oar proximity to hinder such a natural growth.

Philadelphia is continually dwarfed by New-York's shadows, and Balti- more is menaced always Dy nuaaeipnia. Chicago has her marvelously-growmg western and northwifstern cities to contend with. But here sits Piitsburg, monarch of all she surveVs. 850 miles or more from Philadelphia. SUNDAY EXPRESS BY HENRY Harland.

Alt rights rttervtd. "My happiness would have been gravely alloyed if to-morrow had come and gone, nd you had remained ray enemy." After that neither of us spoke for some time. Finally he said, "come up stairs with me, to my den." 1 followed him upstairs to the back room on the top floor. He had fitted it up in the most luxurious mariner as a library and study. There he bade me be seated, and producing a bottle of wine and glasses, he said that we must drink a cup of kindness for tha sake of auld lang syne.

We drank together, and then he sat down opposite me, and for a while 1 we were silent. "Well, Theodore," I began at last, if there ever was a mortal whom another might reasonably envy, you're the man." That was the thought which filled my mind, the feeling which filled my heart how enviable he was, and how I envied him. What single good gift had. the gods withheld' from him He're he was, 80 years old, in glorious health, with abundant wealth, perfect independence, an innocent soul, to crown all, you for a wife 1 I Yet, as I spoke. It saw come into his face a look that puzzled me.

It was very fugitive in a second it had passed. But it left me with a vague feeling of misgiving. His lips had parted slightly, his eyes had- become wide-open and fixed, with pupils dilated his general appearance had been that of sudden fright the seared look of a man abruptly startled by a reminder or an intimation of impending danger. It forced upon me the conjecture that Knight had in his mind some reason for anxiety, for alarm, which at my words bad recurred to his consciousness, bringing a twinge of terror. But, as I say, it was very transitory, crossing his face and departing like a shadow.

"Yes," he rejoined. "I am singularly and richly blessed. But your inference is wrong. I am the least enviable man alive. it were not for one thing, I should be the happiest.

My happiness would be unmitigated, absolute! But as it give you my word; you err if you envy) me." "One thing," 1 1 "There's the humanity of it. Everybody has one thing too much or too little. Well, in. your case what does the one thing happen to be "A truth of life jto which my. eyes have been opeued, to which I cannot close them any more," said he.

What truth of life I questioned. Knight waited little, before be spoke, gazing the while abstractedly at tbe wall. Then, I doubt if you will understand me," he returned. It will be better for you if you don't, perhaps, Though, perhaps, in the long run, it is on the whole best to; acknowledge the truth. Ypu were always very imaginative, Norbert, and therefore always very sympathetic If ydu were less so, or if we had not been so intimate, I should not dare to mention it to you1.

Do you know, I have never mentioned it jto -anyone not even to Elinor. I have never mentioned it, but believe it is never- altogether absent from my thought." I And it is-; prompted as he C' It is this. It is death. It is the fear, tha constant hideous anticipation of His face was ghastly, as he pronounced the word. All the color had faded from it even the ips were whitish, and it seemed too.

all at once to have lost: in substance, and to have changed in structure. It seemed as though the cheeks had become sunken, the eyes The corners of, tbe mouth were drawn down, as if he suffered physical pain. Shocked, perplexed, frightened, "Death, I repeated "the fear of death do you mean "Yes, death, the fear of death. It is that which blackens thej whole sky for. me, and turns my life into a nightmare." I don't understand.

Do you mean For God's sake, doj you mean that there is anything the matter with with Elinor "No, no, not Not Miss- Kingslake." Myself. The knowledge that sooner or later I have inevitably got to die, and the frightful uncertainty whah death may coma. Iow do I know? It may icome 20 years it may, come in 20 hours, in in 20 shuddered, and shrank deeper into his chair, casting a glance around the room, as if he feared that death in person might be lurking in one of the corners." It was a most distressing sight, this strong, young, and otherwise manly man, thus overwhelmed and undone by extreme terror. "How do I know What do I know A11 1 know is this, that it is bound to come! sometime. Isn't that enough The horrible uncertain imminence of death Oh, it is hideous 1 It turns my life into an unceasing suspense and borror.

All day long, everywhere I go. it goes with me; and at night, if I sleep, I dreamof Seel We are seated here in comfort, in security In what we call secur ity, at least, i JJut where is there the smallest real I security against death Not in stone nor iron bars, nor suits of mail, nor chests of mediciniej How do I know that I mayf not be dead before this time to-morrow Ha leaned forward, speaking with intense passion. And that Reared look was vivid in his face. Now he sank back again into his chair, and breathed quick and hard as if ex hausted. i Good heavea Knight, cried do you mean to say that you've got heart-disease He laughed, dryly, unmirthf ully.

disease 1 Hear the fnaterialist I No, nothing of that sort I'm irk perfect health I have no disease." II 1 1 Well, for love of reason, why do you bother about death Have you an enemy prowling around atter you witn a loaded gun I i I don believe 1 have any enemies; no. Not now, that you and I are reconciled." Well. then, in the name of common sense. why do "you bother about death? 1 Have I got to die some time, or not can I hope for immunity from death? Can you can any man assure me tnat 1 snau not do dead within a then, may 1 help thinking about death? Shall I drug myself into obliviousness 'I confess, Knight, I at a loss. You nonplus Do you fancy you're an exception to the rule We've all got to die some time.

I'm credibly informed. But those of us r-c rsn rr in cniinH hnlib.WM aon waste mucn sxrengm worrying auoui death. War get our insured, and let the companies do the worrying. Sufficient unto the day, is tha evil thereof. No, I don't understand you.

1 What sickly frame of mind havel you wrought yourself into? Here is a strong man, rich in all the good things of life; and instead of enjoying them, and being thankful for them, he sits trembling and Chattering at the thought of death! And that on the eve of his wedding-dayl To-morrow he's 10 be married' and to-night he talxs of dying! Pshaw! You're morbid, puerile, and cowardly. A sensible man never thinks of death. JLibef homo dc nihil mimuyuam de mart I' "That, Norbert," Knight rejoined quietly, "is tbe falsest word that ever a great philosopher The very contrary is true. It is tha emancipated man, liber home the man .1. t.

t. occtuv i ruaniwu RATE JUST pnrsBUR, June 21. This city never pets her just world has never understood her. At, home and abroad two things have always injured ber misrepresentation. Even our own United States census Is tin fair.

Nina years ago it ranked Pittsburg as the eleventh city of the Nation, placing Cleveland one ahead of us. Yet at that time, ad ever since then, Pittsburg has ranked in the monthly statement of-banking clearinghouses as fifth and sixth city in the United Stat1, while Cleveland hangs low down in the list as the 16th city. As a financial center we come next to New-York. Chicago, Philadelphia! and Boston. Baltimore is a port of entry, and has nearly double our population; hut we step" ahead of even that city in the yolume of business and the value of our products.

Cincinnati, also numerically larger than Pittsburg, is several notches below us iq this respect. Yet, with all these facts well known in the commercial and- manufacturing world, the forthcoming census will doubt still accord to sleepy little Cleveland a position: on paper one step in advance of Pittsburg. It is man ifestly unjust, but unfortunately there is a reason for it which must excuse the census officers in all outside minds. It is this: The American eagle, leaving its rocky eyrie on the Appalachian crags, and careening westward to the Mississippi, would look down from its lofty course upon one vast metropolis lying at the headwaters of the Ohio. The effect of a bird's-eye view of this arena of hills, is always to see only one city; And that is really what it is.

Three rivers cut the populous surface! into triangular slices. And, singularly enough, the narrowest of these -the Allegheny River does the most harm. It is the imaginary xence Detween two cities, un one side lies Pittsburg; on the other her sleeping headquarters Allegheny City. Now, whenever a great casualty occurs over in Allegheny City, the Associated Press dis patches about it in the Buffalo newspapers are not dated but they begin with the great name of Pittsburg. All of the baseball games hero are played at Allegheny, yet the world is told in the newspapers that they were at But in; spite of all that 1 two separate govern- ments still prevail, and although they are not recognized by tha press or the people for alt practical purposes, they recognized by Uncle Sam, and so down goes Pittsburg population by itself, and Allegheny's away off in another part of the list by itself.

In this way Pittsburg only gets credit for just about one-half, of her population. The population of Pittsburg at present is 220,000, according to the carefully-compiled statistics of the Bureau of Health. That of Allegheny City, based upon the reports of a similar board over there, is 110, 000, Or, the new city directory, just; completed this week, by a.calculation on, the result of its canvassers' labors, puts the combined population of both Pittsburg and Allegheny at 873,000. The United States census of 1880 gave Pittsburg 160,000, and Allegheny .80,000, Since 1880 both of tnese cities have had their greatest boom "from natural gas. and have experienced their most phenomenal growth.

Bnt until the imaginary line between two communities, connected by a dozen bridges (and the residents Allegheny all doing business in Pittsburg), are effaced, there is no use of Pittsburg trying to get her just dues by mere figures on population, Pittsburg thinks has a model system of government and mow I speak tf Pittsburg alone, leaving the 110,000 inhabitants of Allegheny Cty jro another For the benefit of the 220,000 people in Pitts-1 burg alone a change- was made two years ago in the system ot municipal We got a new city charter at the hands of a generous legislature. It was simple And did not require much time to be oiled into run4 ning simplicity. This charter took the ma jot part of the management of affairs out of thei hands of the Mayor and placeid it in the hands of heads of departments, who are chosen every four years by the Mayor, with confirmation by City Councils. The policy' in this was to fix responsibility, the lack of which had in former years made Pittsburg a welly mismanaged city. The new charter even took out of the Mayor's hands the ad-: ninstration of justice, placing that with a corps of police magistrates, also elected every four years by Councils.

The Mayor of Pitts-i burg is now what the citizens have always wanted him to be. the incumbent of a position i of honor rather than the victim of slavish desk work or the annoyance of trying petty criminal cases and adjudicating trivial police disputes. He is the executive head ot the cty, still retaining the power of, checking wiwise city Councils with bis veto power. This change of system brought, with it tome increase in the municipal expenses, but they are not so considerable as to cause any candal. The city has had a phenomenal Krowth in the past ten years.

That fact led to a necessity for. an enlarged style of gov' nment. Of course it was to be expected tut more officials and a system capable of, quicker, clearer action would cost more than' the old cumbersome way. But after ail it as accomplished without, any noteworthy increase in the tax millage. because there were more reorla to nav taxes, and in addi hon to that at the time, of the last assessment mere was a general advance in valuations reciting in equality of taxation.

Pittsburu is composed of 83 wards. The assessed valuation of the whole city this year "w.wj.UW. This is an increase ot about over the previous year, and this tacrease comes principally from a raising of 'ues. in order to reach equalization. That aes not mean that values are inflated.

Not tall. For years large property holders bad wen notorious for dishonestly reporting one filiation to the assessors for tax purposes, tnd then the next month selling the property Probably double that valuation. In raising Yl'uations the City Assessors took the price the last recordf-d al' rn rrorerlv within block to secure the value of all property within the same block. In this way they thev tiicro in flf ihm mark lue of ill taxable property in Pittsburg. quentlyf the total valuation of.

may be regarded as a very fair price "Pn Pittsburg as a whole. The city tax rate this year is 12 mills on dollar. In addition to that there is a Slness tax on all mercantile interests of mill on the dollar; 10 mills on the busi-r of liquor dealers, and 15 mills on tha re-of brokers and commission I oa.u I1CIO ium uusiijrao A the merchants. and SVerV vur mnlro an ITnr in ih in rta to get rid of it, but so far without suc- ss- The iron manufacturers especially rPlam of it, as they say it is a tax on enter- There is no doubt that very many pi lne 11...., fact esiaDtisnments, ana glass Miai nave HorfK niiny miles east, "Jin and south of Pittsburg, have been kept thirty males east, west, ft in city proper by this scare-crow of a cantile Ux. Yet.

in its way even that re- Yet, ii nas been an advan to the building up Uage to us, for it has the whole of Allegheny vast bee-hive of industry, ''ttsburg as the grand center, and the frtit source of power and supplies. a 1 be Copyright, iSSq, by Iftnty CHAPTER I. I have" been convicted of the murder of Theodore Knight.1 On next Monday morning I am to receive my sentence from the lips of the judge who presided at my trial. burden of that sentence will be "confinement at hard labor in the State-prison for the term of my natural life." "And though I am innocent of the crime' they, have convicted me of. believe, shall be able to' support' my punishment with some degree of indifference.

I have suffered so much during the, past year that my capacity for suffering seems to have become exhausted. But there is one thing that still has power to causa me pain, one thing that I cannot bear with any sort of equanimity, one thing- the more thought of which me nearly beside 'myself with despair; and that is, that you should deem me guilty. The true story of the death of Theodore Knight I told upon the witness stand at my trial; but it was1 in itself so improbable a story, and I told it with so little detail, so little verisimilitude, that I suppose nobody who heard it placed the least credence in I was laboring under great excitement and nervousness, my; mind was weary and confused, my heart was filled with wretchedness; and so by my testimony I succeeded only in making an unlikely story seem mora unlikely I am alone and in quiet; and I believe that if I bend my whole mind to it, I shall be able to tell that story over again here with such fullness and exactness that you cannot doubt it, provided only that you ill do me the justice of reading it through. I cannot bear to have you think me guilty. I can bear anything but that.

To have you despise me as utterly base -and ignoble, to have you think me guilty of the crime by which your happiness was destroyed -I cannot bear that. I implore you to' read what I write to tha end. As you know, and as was established by the prosecution at my trial. Knight and I were old and intimate friends. Our friendship had begun when we were freshmen at Harvard College; and it continued for five years after our graduation.

We came from Cambridge to New-York together, and here took rooms We had no secrets from each other)' and Knight knew how deeply in love I was with you. He was the first man to be told of our engagement, and the first also to be told when that engagement was broken off. From that meeting with you at which you confessed to me that your heart was changed, that your love for me was dead, that you knew you never could love me any more, I -went home: half crazed 'with' pain and poured all my sorrow out to Knight. He was my confidant He knew the whole story perfectly, from the beginning to the end. After that I went abroad, andremained therefor three Then-1 came home.

Not that I had got over it; but was sick of Europe, I had found 1 that absence and distance from.yon did not help me, I craved a sigbt.ot you, longed, to teci that we were near each' other, that I was in the same city with you, and so I came home. Knight and I had not kept, up a regular correspondence while I was away. I had no heart for writing letters; and Knight, 'as I knew very well, had always regarded letter- writing as the most irksome and disagreeable of tasks. But shortly before I sailed from Havre I sent him a little note, warning him of my coming; and so I was not surprised to find him waiting upon tbe dock- to greet me at I was. not surprised, but I was greatly pleased.

We had not seen each other, for: three years no two friends were ever closer or fonder than he and I. Our meeting was of the most cordial nature. By and by he asked me this question: "And the wound, old fellow; the wound -that drove you abroad, it is quite healed by this time, I Then I told him no, that the wound was open 6till. He was silent for a little after this. Then all at once he said: "I must tell you something before we go any further, Nor-bert It wilt pain you, but it would be wrong for me to let things go any further without telling it to you." He paused, and I said: "Oh, I suppose she married.

I have made up my mind to that." "No, she isn't married yet," he answered, "bu-t she is engaged." Well, it makes no difference to me," I said. I have understood all along that I must expect to hear of her engagement or marriage sooner or For some minutes now Knight did not speak, nor did I. At last, You do not ask who it is that she is engaged to," ha said. I don care, said I. "But you must That is what I must tell yon," he insisted.

Well, if you must tell me, tell me," I re urned. She is engaged to me." he said in a very low voice. What happened then was proved by the prosecution at -my trial. We had a most violent quarrel. I was wild with pain and astonishment, and I said things that were savage and unjust.

He retorted hotly. The result was that we separated in anger. It was my fault entirely. He bad dona nothing that I could rightly blame him for. nothing dishonorable Or -unfair.

So our long-standing friendship came to an end. it was further proved at my trial that we did not meet again until the night of the 6th of May, the night, that is, of his death. On the next day, the 7th of May, you and he were to ba married. It was proved that two or three days earlier I had written him a note saying that I felt that I bad been in the wrong in our Quarrel, and that if he was willins- I should like see him once before his wedding and shake hands with him. I said in my note that I knew of course we never could be friends again in the old way.

but that for tua sake of our former friendship I should like to meet him once more and take back the bitter words that I had spoken at, our separation. That note put in evidence as an exhibit: at my trial. And the note that Knight sent in reply was was put in evidence as an exhibit also. Knight replied by re questing me to call upon him at his bouse on the evening of, May bth at ten 0 clock. He had bought a house in West 41st Street, As I have said, I told the true story of my visit with Knight on that evening, when I was a witness in my own behalf at my trial.

Now I will try to tell it again with greater precision and detail. 1 rang the door-bell of bis house at exactly ten o'-clock. The door was opened to me bv Knight himself, who. without speaking gave me his hand and led me into the hall. Then.

after the street-door had closed behind us, he said, "Harry, I am glad that you have come. tnanK you tor ottering to come." "I could not help it, T. heodore, said I knew I had. been quite wroncr in our quarrel. I had no right to begrudge you youcbetter luck.

I could not feel easy in my conscience fcbout it. I thought it would be good for both of us if before you married her we should meet and I should withdraw tbe things I said that day." It is very generous of you," he answered. You have just quoted to me thfalscst that a great philosopher ever put his name to: Liber homo at nihil mmusquam te mortt futat. Now I will cap your quotation with a better one, because it is a true one: 'In the midst! of life we are in How can you help thinking of death? How- do iyou dull your mind to that Could Damocles help' thinking of 1 thei sword? Is not the sword of Death impending) over your head, yes, indeed, -your- devote, head, every hour and minute of your life, daytime and nighttime, wheresoever you go. from tbe first breath you draw 'n your cradle, until all at once it falls? fjDare you, I asked a while ago, dare your lay a wager that it will not have fallen by this: time to-morrow? How do we know? What do we know? Within this very hour your dead body may be lying at my feet, or mine at) yours.

Not think of the black hand forever raised to strike you I- Not think ot the jjrim companion who stalks forever at ypur elbow! When the black hand may deal its blow at any in stant; the grim comrade at any instant pluck your sleeve and whisper, Come, you are mine I Not think of death I Oh He had begun, as I have noted, by speak- ing quietly; but as he went on his composure vanished, giving place to an excitement which, toward the end, had intensified into something like ecstacy. His voice increased in stress and volume, his eyes burned, he leaned forward and gesticulated earnestly. Now he fell back into the depth of bis chair and closed his eyes, and laid his hand across his forehead where the swollen veins showed puple against the white skin. i CHAPTER II. jI own I had been impressed and stirred by what he said, or by his manner of saying it.

In my emotion I forgot the hundred excellent reasons I had to urge, against him. A wiser man than however, observing how the sub- i iect agitated his interlocutor, 'would have dropped it, -introducing anew I shall never cease most bitterly to reproacn yseit for my folly in pursuing it. If our conversation had stopped at that the act," the crime, that followed it would very probably never have been committed. In my unwisdom I rejoined 1 "Well, even so? What of it? Why should you fear death so? What is there to be so afraid of? Yes, indubitabl', each mother's1 son of us may die at any moment But why should we dread death, shrink from death? The bodily agony, even if supreme, cannot ba of long duration; and as for the future life, if there is one; wa have no reason to expect that it. will be worse than the present." "Ah, there is lust the point" cried Knight "The future life I You say, if there is one.

Jt BUI 1 'W-ll mven nn What nf it 1 What I fail to understand is why you should feat it What shadow of a reason have you for imagining that it will be less endurable than tne lite we know here I "It is not a question of imagining, Nor bert it is a matter of demonstrable fact In the future life here is the horrible knowledge that lies upon my conscience day and night, torturing it like a coal of fire, racking me with an utter horror and dread of dea thin the future life my portion will be Hellj." -1 looked at him. His face was livid. His lips were drawn back until they exposed the teeth. His fingers were clenched, liis eyes stared fixedly at the Wall in fron.tof him, with a light in them that was almost ij Hell I What What 1 Uood I-ord, i Knight, what ails you To nsake you talk like that, to make you look li that 1 Are i you hoaxing me Are you actfng Or are vou imbecile ea i vvnai ao you imnic you mean i "1 am not hoaxing you, nor a part, rrt i I mtftan urn. if I a 1 a solutely, exactly.

After my death I shall find myselt in Hell. 1 .1 1 be permitted to asa a questonr "Twenty it you like." i "Very well. Since when you have believed in Hell, you who. of all rationalists, used, to be tho extremest? "Since I cut my wisdom Since! my eyes were opened to the obvious. I never was more of a rationalist than wt-en, plucking up my courage, I dared to follo my reason to the furthest depth it would lead me, and then recognized the necessity, the inevitabie-ness of Hell." i i- VI declare, Knight, I think yoi are losing your mind." What reactionary talk is this? Those of us who are in thisage of the world's development, haveseen clearly that given any personal future life at all, it must be but a gradual and natural sequel to this life.

a logical continuation of it; that the soul will begin there where it left off her; that it is i the height of absurdity to expect an imme- I diate and immense translation to a heaven or. to a bell. Yet you I Do yowl live in the Nineteenth Century, or are in i the ignorance and 'the superstition of the Twelfth? You talk; of Hell! ''ell, taking! Hell for granted, what crimes arjjj you guilty of, what deadly sins have you committed, that you deem yourself doomed to Hell?" "None that I know of. I have committed no crimes to my knowledge; and I. believe my worst sins have been venial.

But that ia I neither here or there or rather, no that again is just tbe point. I will speak of that in a moment. What strikes me at present is the sublime conceit of 'those of us who are en What new and special revelation have you received you wh are enlightenedthat you describe wiik such confidence and such complacency nature of the future life Oh. the comfortable, the flattering theology of the men 1 The future life shall be but a natural and gradual sequel to this life, a logical continuation" of it. We shall begin there where we left off here smoothly, easily, without break, wiihout violence 1 I tell you, man, in tho future "life every valley shall be exalted, every mountain and hill Khali be made low and the crooked shrill be made straight and the rough plai -5 plain.

There is no reason, no purpose, no no excuse for a future life which shall be but an easy and comfortable continuation of this so that who have the start and', advantage bere, shall have the eternal the eternal ana over wi mues.uui 01 ma itvu cago. Cincinnati and Cleveland can never. come ia competition with us 00 account of 1 1 I i i.