Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1871-07-05
LET nae dive Yon two cases. The his.


of friends but his limbs cannot carry him,
his means are gone. There are none to
whom he can apply for help; no one
knows him. and the story he tells has been
heard by hundreds from impostors, and
it makes no impression on any heart.
He stands by the cars. They could bear
him in a few hours to his wife and chill
dren, but those who control them have
hearts of iron, opened only with golden
KEY. He sinks down to the earth and
crsyls to their feet, and with all the elo-
ouence of want and pain pleads for few
hours ride. He is again repealed, until
despair seizes his heart. He turns his
eyes, overho wing with bitter tears toward
his home he thinks Of his wife, he sees
the hands Of his little ones stretched out
to receive him. Mocking visions Of the
past crowd his memory. He hears the
voices of his loved ones, and In the intoxi-
cation of his delirium crawls blindly
along some narrow alley, lies down IN the
reeking filth, and fsncies thSt in some
beautiful car he is going home. Coma
HOME? Heaven make il true, that he's
going home! In the public journal We
read the next mornings "FouH6 dead Q"
the street." Potter's Field closes over him,
and those dear ones whose loved names
were last on his lips weep bitter tears for
him who sleeps UNDECIDED and Unknown.
Take another history. He TOO is III,
and Q stranger in the great city.
He summons all his strength snda hurries
him out of the noisy street which seems
to crash upon his brain like bolts Of death.
tremble for his fate. His intelligent
face and easy mien assure me that he is
accustomed TO the gentisr influences Of life.
What will become Of him in this great
city? How lonely he must be, and what
neglect must he endure. sick, suffering,
and among strangers. wonder rs with
weary step he ascends the steps and en-
tiers the st. Nicholas Hotel, and my won
der increases when q moment later l see
him guided 10 q room. / see one in CONVEX
sation with the proprietor, / hear the
name of the stranger spoken, and soon,
with noiselsss tread, men pass up to his
room. They gently Lift the latch and enter.
Soon another and another enters the sick
room, until the chamber of the stranger
seems the center of attraction. All night
they kept faithful vigil by his side, nor
leave him till with the dawn other watchers
come to fill their place. And so days and
weeks passed on until one morning it was
whispered through the great house that
the sick stranger was touching with white
feet the cold Jordan Of death, and We all
turned to witness the scene. A dim light
fell softly on the noble brow Of the dying
man. After moments silence the suf-
ferer opened his languid eyes and looked
around on those assembled. And such
look Then in the merest whisper, start
lingly audible because Of the silence OF
the room, he said: Brothers, accept my
thanks. l can give you no more in thiS
world 81 know" said he, struggling
with deep emotion, that You --3h ten nsr
all, and, oh, my child-~h! ne LAY al
most brea,hless . moment, and then these
words burst from his trembling lips: so,
my dear boy, must we part? Must ney-
err see thee again? nor with thy mother
hear thee sing again thy childish songs?
nor home-nor freside-nor wife--nor
child9 Neyermore. o, my poor. dear
boyi" And rs one present wiped the
bright tears from his sunken cheeks, he
continued: 'sThe order will care for
them. I have full confidence in its Friend
ship, Love, and Truth. Brothers, Heaven
will reward you. Into His hand / COM
mend my spirit" without struggle his
spirit passed to God.
On the third day, just as the sun was de-
clining we stood by new made grave
All were meurners, and when the coffin
was let down into the earth and the ex-
pressive evergreen fell on it from each
passing hand, sobs mingled with the SOL
emn service that fell from the lips of the
weeping minister. A more patent argu-
meme for the principles of Odd Fellowship
than ever fell from the lips Of man; an ar
gument that no prejudice can overthrow
and no sophistry blind, came up from that
open coffin. That argument smote my
heart like the voice Of God. By the
matchless eloquence Of that scene my eyes
were opened to one Of the peculiar and
sublime advantages Of this institution.
Win my congregation, for single nc
ment, contemplate these two histories, and
learn the lesson they should teach. Go
with me to yonder field where sleeps the
unknown poor-the Potter's Field. There
beneath that pile Of dust he sleeps, who
came TO his death in the narrow alley, fond
ly dreaming Of dear ones at home. Not O
stone marks the spot. Looking close
among the loose stones and roots Of dying
weeds we read the charity Of the world
Go with me to yonder beautiful city Of the
dead. Greenwood Cemetery. That pure.
white monument, beautiful in design, and
chaste in execution, marks the resting
place of our second stranger. On that
monument / read James Munro, died
April l. 1859, aged thirty-seven years.
And there on the surface OF the closely
shaver grass and on the fragrant leaves Of
the beautiful flowers that deck his quiet
grave read also The unostentatioue char
ity of the 1. o. Of o. F.
Brothers and sisters of the order, to the
truthfulnsss of what have this day i'd
dressed you, yourselves are Witnesses
Many will judge this order, not by what
may say, but wholly by the lives its mem
be1s. By unworthy acts you shall not only
pierce your own hearts, stab your own
reputation, but you aim blow at the Vi
tails of our beloved order. Let US take the
grand principle of our order as blazing
torch, and, bearing it into the abode OF
darkness and want, light it up with the
light of Joy and plenty. Let US remember
these words, and clean hands and pure
hearts will ever characterize the
true Odd Fellow. We thank God for the
abundant fruits of our order which re-
commend Us to the sympathy, the conf
dence and the respect OF men. We thank
Him for our sublime and glorious record
Of charity and love toward our fellow men.
We thank Him for our unparalleled pros
perity and growth. Fifty. one years ago
our order was mere child; to day, scorn-
ing no aid Of human arms, nor asking any
we walk firmly the most mountainous path
of life. A few years since q mere drop Of
dew shining by suferance on The top Of the
mountain; to-day We are great river,
bearing on its bosom the commerce Of
twice an hundred thousand lives.
Brothers and sisters my prayer is that
the members of this institution, by the cul-