The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1882-04-27

culver and VIbTato nnder The soft
touch of the breath from lips that are
not formed of earth's cold clay. But
this does not detract from the force of
my argument. 1t only proves there
are more and perhaps sWeeter sounds
in this universe than our duh ears pray
for. Hence the supply is greater than
our demands. Moreover, | helItVe this
to be true of the wants of every depart
ment OF our natures. y few years ago
we found the whale oil nearly CON
srImed or at least difficult to obtain.
Then skepticS said we are doomed 10 !
the thick darkness of night; but we ,
bored down into the rocks and oil !
leaped forth like an unclaimed demon. /
When tile oil fields began to diminish /!
and i'll many places the abandoned
derricks gave token of AN oil famine,
American genius made the heavens
glow in the glare OF the electric light.
We once said, how can we warm
ourselves on these great prairies there
is no timber for fuel? But we opened
the earth and here we found fuel in
abundance. some croakers just like
the worlds doubling materiaiists, are
beginning to talk of exhausted coal
fields, and the dying fires in the heart
of the earth, and that we will soon be
entom bed in ice. Don't WGFPy. When
the time comes, some daring Yankee
will bottle the sunheams and pour
them out on our cold hearthstOnes
Look at mans desire for knowledge.
His prayer for knowledge becomes a
key to the intellectual treasures of the
w0rld-when he knocks at the door III
natures temple, it opens wide to his
intellect and the earth become illunl-
mated scripture, bearing upon every
page the impress OF the divine hand.
An idiot will trampOn crawling worms
sand and pebles and see in them no
lessons but a philosopher will bow
his head III reverence TOR the lessons
they teach.
When we view mans social nature
there is the same adaptation between
our desires and their qualification.
Hunger and love- says Tile scientist
- are the forces which move man."
What is love but the SOULS hunger
made manifest III our social and spir-
itual natures ? What are the demands
of this soul hunger Go, ask the
young mother who kneeis so sadly at
that little mound her tender hand has
covered with the early daisies and
the Iilacs' first bloom! See her bend
over the Iitthe slab Of marble and pour
her briny flood into the worlds ocean
of tears! Go ask widowed love the
meaning of its heavy sigh Go ask
yonder weeping orphan what barbed
arrow has pierced his heart 1t needs
no magic art TO read this lesson. Love
reaches out beyend the coffin and the
grave, and demands an answer to the
piaintive cry it sends over deaths tur-
bulent stream. Now, we argue as
there is light for the eye, sound for the
ear, knowledge for the seeker, friends
for the friendly, so in the very nature
of things there must be aspiritual uni
| verso and spiritual eAioLenCo for inaiI
to complete the demands or his being.
Again, however successful our lives
may be, they are nevertheless incom-
plete. This world does not exhaust
us. Not long since the great Victor
Hugo beautifully expressed this
thought when he said he felt he had
not said or written the smallest part
within him. | think this is true of
every life. There is d depth of loving
and feeling nothing in this life can
| fully satisfy. Wherever you find man
you find discomfort. The animal may
feel satisfied with the food it gathers,
and the knoll or cave it finds for re-
pose but we are not satisfied with
ours. We may be poor as Lazarus or
rich as CrOesus-We want something
more. Could we bring here tonight
all the phases of life in your great city
the poor, dirty, ragged children of
poverty-the weary laborers who grind
out life's hopes at the rough wheels of
toil-the wretched prostitutes with the
black marks of death upon their brow
the millionaires who are chaling in
golden fetters-the skeptic who doubts
life's fairest prophecy, and your whin-
ing saints who fancy they have secured
a narlOr car to heaven, and we would
not find one in all the motley number
content.
The voice of history speaks to US
here. Once the great Nebuchadnezzar
sat in his royal palace Il seeming pic
tuI of content. Queenly Babylon with
walls of stone and gates OF brass, ami
mighty watch towers looking over the
vast plains, WAS indeed an imposing
city. The kings eye could feast upon
the beautiful hanging gardens he had
b uilt for his Midian wiie-ij ustly called
one of the seven wonders OF the world.
Surely we might look for conteDtmen
here but we find the king touched
with strange forehodings for the fate
of his empire. Alexander made the
world offer 1t tribute Of blood 10 his
ambition, but one world was not
enough for him to conquer. The old
Napoleon climbed the Alps and made
the Pyramids trembIe; h}t he learned
a lesson in humin frailty at Waterloo
I-and heard from his prison home at
Helena the SAD waves chant 3 requiem
over the wreck OF human ambition,
Like the bird whose instinct impels il
to warmer climate, we feel a far OF
a he ,yNr - II. !,
and our every sigh and tear, are an
omen of another life.
Again the lessons Of death and life
are manifold if we would only reac
them. We die to live ana we live t
i die. There is nothing permanent
about these bodies, but change. In Oul
waking and sleeping moments these
changes go forward Hence, We live
by change of diet OF climate, to wOrl
very radical changes IN the human
system. Some tell us cur bodie.
change every year in their tieshy part
aHd about every seven years the entire
bony framework is changed. The oil,
man leaves many bodies behind in the
weary march of his heightened years
,, Gone is the body OF the babe that once
,, nestled SO sweetly on the warm breas
of mother. Gone, as faded the flow.
er you loved i'll your garden. Con,
the light feet of happy childhood and
the musical ripple of its laughter
Yes, gone with the ball, the kite, ant
the faithful dog that walked by you
, side the play house. you built unde
the trees f; and the old nurse who sleep!
III the church yard. Gone, YOU
youthful body when the blood wa
wild with passion, ,and the sky red witt
the glare of ambition. Gone, yes gou,
with the dear girl you loved whom
death struck with his wing, and the
sad toll of the school bell for the fallel
one has echoed down the dim aisles 0
these gathered years. Gone manhood
body; the body which sweat in the
sultry sun at noon, and struck strong
) blows for love and honor. Gone! yes
f gone, with the dear wife who stood
like an angel at your side, giving
strength in your weakness, hope il
/ your dependency, pouring oil upon
/ the mad waves of your passions and
} crystalizing with every breath of Edel
your hottest, saddest tears. | see you
now with the long, deep burrows OF