The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1868-09-18
From the Banner Of the South.
rs THERE ANOTHER LIFE?
BY MISS MATTE CHAPMAN.

BY MISS MATTE CHAPMAN.
Another life! Another world With
what strange meaning these words are
fraught! They ever arrest the way
ward thoughts, and stir the inquiries of
the heart. Our imaginations are ever
traversing the ETHEREAL space of the
Universe, to catch view of that mys-
terious other world. Yet, they ever re-
turn to us, weary-worn and unsatisfied.
Sometimes the soul would ask: Is it a
reality, this future life of man 7 or is it
fervid, deceptive dream, that will end
with this short, mysterious lifes Is it,
like the body, to be consigned to death,
and the grave-its high aspirations for
knowledge, purity and happiness, to be
put out in forgetfulness Are its cease
less thirstings for glory, light, and ever
lasting life, to be perfectcdY Oh! tell
me, arc the chords of love and friend
ship, that have been rudcly severed by
the hand of Death, to be reunited never
again, and the friends that part with us
here to meet us no more forever? Oh !!
why is the human heart thus created,
with deep and lasting affections, bright
and glorious hopes, high and noble aspi-
rations, if never to be realized? But.
nay, we know there is another world =
The Spirit of God speaks to our souls,
| in tones un nistakable, of life unweak-
ened by frail mortality, undimmed by
sorrow and care; a life unclouded by
folly and sin, and unembittercd by pain
and death there, the broken ties of
earth shall be reunited, and there
Times dcsolating footsteps shall never
roam. Were it not for the small voice
that falls upon the heart, in the hour of
its trial and suffering, when the spirit
droops and signs over the hearts lone
illness and desolation, amid its blighted
hopes and chilled affections-when those
who onccd filled it with joy, light, and
love, are taken away! away so far, into
the unknown beyond, and the restless
spirit chafcs against its "prison house of
clay," and longs to proudly soar away
from this drcary, darkened Earth, to
find its lost ones in brighter, purcr
sphere-thcn, how could this heart well
endure such pain as this, were it not for
this still, small voice that falls so softly,
soothingly, upon the troubled spirit, and
tells it to struggle on and suffer, in view
of this life to come.
And yet, fully delineatcd, how little
do we know of our future destiny ?-how
little, even of tomorrow Beyond the
boundary of Earth, these mortal eyes
cannot penetrate. We cannot follow
the departing spirit of some loved one to
the brink of the ozark River" as it
starts off on its unknown journey to
another world; but there we must turn
back. Beyond all is mystery impcne.
trable; yet, could we snatch away the
"veil of mortality" from these eyes, me-
thinks we could sec them, ere the fare
wells arc hushed on Earth, greet their
long lost friends on the shores of the
other world and our ears might catch
tnesmusic of harp strings swept by an
genlic fingers, as they strike up their
triumphant notes to proclaim the victory
of another soul over Death and the
Grave.
-Through Death and the Grave must
we all 60, ere we inherit the joys of that
glorious other world. The soul cannot
Iescapc-'tis bound to Earth by chains
Yof clay, and encircled by the "River Of
Death" How often, when the soul
\ rows weary of the burdens and disap-
pointments of life, does it long to burst
these bonds2 But Fate points to the
Dark River, and the pillow of dust !
Then the timid soul shrinks into its
"prison house of clay" in woe and des-
pair, till Faith discerns the bright ray of
light which has lit up the dark way since
the passage through it of Deaths great
Conquerer.
sit strange, that when we contem-
plate this future existence, We should
wonder and fear? Is it strange, the
heart, bswildered in the maze of alter
nate hopes and fears, is ever asking,
where?
''Till Faith and Hope, bes boons to mortas given,
Catch the bright ray, and point us up to Heaven"
| u Horatio Seymour was never known
l