Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1873-08-02

, the Gennesaret, and IN the uppel
chamber where Penteeost began
And whether it be N the field where
| Isaac went to mediate, or the rocky
, knoll where Jacob lay down to sleep
or the brook where Israel wrestled, 0l
! the den where Daniel gazed on Him
or the hillsides where the man Of sor-
row prayed all night, we should still
discern the ladders feet letdown from
heayen-the landing place Of mercies
because the starting place Of prayer.
And all this, whatsoever you are. Ii
needs no saint, no proficient in piety,
no adept In eloquent language, no di-
vinity of earthly rank. 1t needs but a
blind beggar or a loathsome lazar. II
needs but a penitent publican or a dy-
ing thief And it needs no sharp or
deal, nor costly passport, no painful
expiation, to bring you to the mercy
seat: or, rather, / should say, it needs
the costliest of all; but the blood of
the atonement, the Savior's merit, the
name Of Jesus, priceless as they are,
cost the sinner nothing. They are
freely put at his disposal, and Instant
ly and constantly he may use them.
This access to God in every place, at
every moment, without any personal
merit, is it not priyilege? E
have seen lone tree standing on
the prairie; have beheld the storms of
winter buffet against its trunk, and
the gales of autumn bend its lofty
branches to the dust; but when the
blast had gone, have viewed its tall
form still erect, its limbs still expan-
ded; and have said such is the Chris
tian amid the riots and tumults of this
worlds unrighteousness. His trust is
In Him who gave the tree its unyield-
ing root, in whose right hand there is
deliverance. let Christians, then,
learn a lesson from the tree, and, amid
the conflicts of life, remember that
with faith they are like house built
on rock; that their warfare is built for
limited period, and that the reward
of the good soldier of the cross is an
inheritance Of eternal felicity.
TRUTH.
Truth is like Gods baptism upon
the hills. First, it is like dew drops,
silently descending through cloud of
mist and vapor to kiss the petals of
some dropping flower. Then il is
little pool gathering in some tiny ba-
sin in q fraternal embrace of atoms.
Then it is a rill, that goes cutting its
channel way through the green moss
and down the sloping hillside, has
tening to the meeting Of waters below.
Then 1T is stream, hurrying over
precipices and down cascade rocks,
turning the great wheel of manufae-
ture, grinding and working the spin
dies and shuttles Of man. Then Il is
the river, slowly rolling onward
through its mighty channel, upon
which great lazy barges rock, and the
paddles of the steamboat beat. And
then-then it is the broad sweep of
the Atlantic, upon which is borne,
from land to land, the products of
the industry Of an entire world. And
that the way truth comes. And that's
the way truth acts.
VIRTUE.
The creation Of the sculptor may
moulder In the dust-the wreath OF
the bard may wither-the throne Of
the conquerer may be shiyered by
an opposing power into atoms-the
fame Of the warrior may DE no longer
hymned by the recording minstrel:
but virtue, that which hallows the
cottage and sheds q glory around the
palace, shall never decay. 1t is cele-
ebrated by the angels of God-it is
written on the pillars OF heaven and
repeated down to earth. The rock
breaker who possesses it is more noble
than the intriguing statesman.
WHAT Is NOT CHARITY.
1t is not charity to give a penny to
the street mendicant, of whom moth
ing is known, while we haggle with a
poor man out of employment for q
miserable dime. 1t is not charity to
beat down q seamstress to starvation
price; to let her sit in her wet clothes
sewing all day; to deduce from her
pitiful remuneration if the storm de-
lays her prompt arrival. 1t is not
charity to take a poor relative into
your family, and make her q slave to
all your whims, and taunt her sontin-
ually with her dependent situation.
1t is not charity to turn a man who is
out of work into the streets with his
family, because he cannot pay his rent.
1t is not charity to exact the utmost
farthing from the widow and orphan.
1t is not charity to give with super
cilious air and patronage, as If God
had made yoa, the rich man, Of differ
ent blood from the shiveringrecipient,
whose only crime is that he Is poor.
1t is not charity to be an extortioner
NOT though you bestow your aims by
thousands.
MEMORY OF THE DEAD.
How sacred the memory Of the deadi
We will not, cannot forget those
whose affections were early twined
around our hearts in the holy bonds
of friendship. They may have died
on foreign shore, far from home and
friends, with no kindred spirit upon
whom they might cast farewell look,
ere they entered the heavenly world,
but they still live in our hearts
When we visit our familiar retreats,
and meet not their smiling faces, we
think of them we think Of them, too,
at the calm twilighthour, and at bright
smiling morn their image is not for
gotten. The stranger may lightly pass
over the grassy mound which covers
them-'twill not disturb their repose.
Theirs is a sweet, holy sleep-theirs
is rest which none shall disturb.
Calm be their sleep-and though rec
collections Of them may cause the
tear-drop to fail, we will not call them
back from their noble, pure home, to
again mingle with the yanities Of earth,
and again meet its trials. We will ST.
lently look upon the turf which COW
ers them-we will there plant the ey-
ergreeD and thornless rose, as q partial
tribute to their memory, and then
leave the spot-perhaps forever; but
while life and reason last, we will
think of them-cherish their memory
as q choice plant. True, indeed, they
have mingled their once lovely forms
with the dust, among the rich and the
poor, the vitruous and vicious, but the
immortal spark within is transported
to fairer elime-eyen paradise, the
home of angels.
>S>--
1T is most mortifying reflection for
. man to consider what he has done
compared with what he might have
done. r