No! No! No! There will be a shudder, as though a calamity had
happened. Standing on heaven's battlement, a watchman will see
something shoot past, with fiery downfall, and shriek: "Wandering
star--for whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever!"

With the funeral pageant the brilliant career terminated. There was a
great array of carriages.




AFTER MIDNIGHT.


When night came down on Babylon, Nineveh, and Jerusalem, they needed
careful watching, otherwise the incendiary's torch might have been
thrust into the very heart of the metropolitan splendor; or enemies,
marching from the hills, might have forced the gates. All night long,
on top of the wall and in front of the gates, might be heard the
measured step of the watchman on his solitary beat; silence hung in
air, save as some passer-by raised the question: "Watchman, what of
the night?"

It is to me a deeply suggestive and solemn thing to see a man standing
guard by night. It thrilled through me, as at the gate of an arsenal
in Charleston, the question once smote me, "Who comes there?" followed
by the sharp command: "Advance and give the countersign." Every moral
teacher stands on picket, or patrols the wall as watchman. His work
is to sound the alarm; and whether it be in the first watch, in