The Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, Ohio) 1853-1861, 1858-08-26
T0 Live.
FREMONT, Aug. 1853.

"Mav God make us patient to live y prays
Henry Ward Beecher, in his Lille IhougGts !;
and reader, hasn't your heart often echoed TINS
prayer?
thing to liue; we don't believe 1t ever was. since
the gates of our home was closed, and our Fatn-
ar and Mother went out with the curse on their
heads tn wander home sick over the face OF the
earth!
And what is it to lius? 1t is long battle
with evil. and temptation, with weakness OF
body and WEAKNESS of soul, with care ana VeX-
;ations, with sharp sufferings, and petty trials
1t is to hear always the discords OF SIN drowning
the harmonies of life; it is to hear disappolnt,
.ments, and hidden heart aches, and unreallzed
aspirations that "crown us with lhorhs' vi IL
is not light thing to liUc
Let God forbid that, in writing thus, we should
seem ungrateful, or unmindful of His mercles, or
of all the Joy and beauty with which He has
crowned the earth Does not the night come
for every soul of US, with It's mighty and solemn
epeech, and its curtains run up with cornlces OF
gold, and purple, and every fold struck thick
with flashing jewels! Does not every day rise
out Of the night, (did you ever THINK OF t'is) a
glorious miracle? First OF all out OF tne olacK-
ness and darkness comes the dawn, with ITS pill
- lars OF pearl, and its futings OF rose; and at
last. royal and radiant, comes the day, glistning
with dews, perfumed with all traSrances anu
welcomed with all sweet flowing melodies!
Have we not, all of us, the seasons, with
their lavish treasures af gifts and beauties E
There is the Winter, that cold sculptor, setting
all over the land its white massive cathedrals
and monuments There is the Spring, with her
smiling face and her hands "full of sweet smell
ing, wild Aowers!' There is the Summer, with
its "ioy of leaves its song of BIRDS and Its glo-
ry OF woods and streams There is the Autumn
=, coming from "afar with its dyed garments and
tits burdens OF juicy fruits.
And ret, with all these gifts heaped on us
from Gods royal bounty, it is no easy thing to
Iipe Oh, ye who strive to carry your lives
truly, bravely, patiently, throug gh this world
answer ye us, is it little thing? Isl not lit,
tie more than "a succession of falls" its chief
glory being. tina! having fallen it is not content
10 lie there?
No; it does require patience to liUe. The soul
) goes home through time. The storms bat
ter and bruise it; the cares eat and corrode It,
Look az existence as you will, it is still strug-
gle and battle But blessed be God, not long
one! The hearts that have beaten to this march
for seventy years, looking back, say the journey
only appears days length.
And for us, reader it will be over so soon
d, 80 soon shall we "rest from our labors," aud the
our graves. And going out on that unknown
ocean, we can carry but one prayer--the one
that binds all our humanity in common need
and heiplessness the same for prince, for peas
ant for saint, and sinner all that any soul evel
has, ever shall carry out from this life:
"God be merciful to me, sinner"
so "may God make us patient to liue."
---Arthur's Hsmc Magazine. W. T.