Western sentinel. [volume] (Winston [i.e. Winston-Salem], N.C.) 1856-1886, 1883-01-04


own, is not easily provoked, think
eth no evil !; rejoiceth not in iniqui-
ty, but rejoieeth in the truth bear
eth all things, believethY all things,
hopeth all things, andureth all
thags. Charity never faileth.''
THE HIGHEST TYPEoE CHARITY
is the sacrifice of life,s for he. that
gives his life, gives alIthe- possibili-
ties that his life might afford =.
"GreateI love hathno man than
this, that man lay down his life
for his friend.
The nesfory of Coriclanus is em4
halmed BY the geains sof Shakes
sssssiis Inc ...ar4Esf h.,oas l,...s hal.
lowed the fate of the teptive Kegu
lus. az
"Glorious the doom. and beautiful
the lot" of those at ThePmopylae,
within whose grave the hon1ahred
glory of Greece was laid"
Still flaming in the forehesd of
the morning sky, the spark which
crumbled to- ashes. the bones of the
Martyr Latimer
Chaste as morning dew, the saint.
like face of Charlotte Corday, 'Eere
it smiles this day upon Brutus and
the other patriots in Elysium."
Immortal scafold upon which
perished Sidney!
The victims of this sublime virtue,
stand along the stream of the centrl-
ries, the great beacon lights Of prog
ress and of civilization. The influ-
ence of charity is greatest in religion.
Elsewhere it is powerful, here it is
supreme. In the infinite realm of
worship and reverence it holds the
sceptre. The human body may be
conquered by force; the human in
tellect may be dazzled by science !;
the human soul finds peace alone in
religion. God has made sone men
white and some black and some red ,
but he loves them all. would
rather lay my hand upon my heart
and say with truth, l have never
added a feathers weight to another's
burden, than repose with Kings be-
meath the marble floor Of Westnin-
ister Abbey. "The world is my
country, to do good is my religion" !"
Higher than that, no mere human
faith can go. But if man could but
reaclr ii. tlsre is faith higher still
Not tthe faith of t,e savage, who
crouches in fearful reverence before
the lightnings flask, or gazes in aw-
ful wonder at the rushing cataract
| nor of the sword, for the sword ol
Mohammed is impotent Ito subdue
the heart it pierces nor of supersti-
} ton, the Hindoo Ifimart; dwell on
: ly in grotesque marble which mocks
: not moves the heart,sn of Bud
dha, which offers to the thirsty soul
, painting for the "pure river of water
: Of life" only Gahen"a; nor Of the
r intellect, "Socrates died like
, philosopher, but Jesus Christ like
s God but the faith which plucks
5 the thorns from the cross of Chris
: and puts rose buds there. It is no
= the. destiny of ali men to stand
/. crowned upon the slopes of glory
| with the Immortality of martyrdom
r but to the humblest- soul may conn
: from the sweet Gallean Vision, tn
4 whisper "well done thou good ant
e faithful servant" The unletteret
: sailor who covered from the gaze o
8 the vulgar, with his ragged coat, tn
5 dismembered limb of a shipwrecket
), woman, as it lay upon the breach
: was prince of men, at whose deatl
o royalty might wear suits of woe
3 The millionaire who passes wretch
3 ed poverty unmoyed, is thief a
e heart. There is no monopoly Q
g well doing. Virtue cannot be pat
b ented. Whether upon fields of wal
# amid the silver voices of heroic bu
$ giles or peacefully reposing under tn
shadows of the clouds, the swee
h sympathy of human suffering ani
o mates the soul II the swell Of th
peafing organ. AT various periods
= in the history Of man, .stifled hr
manity has unyolsed the collar {
bondage and stood erect for a mo
g ment in the sunlight of freedom
q then to return to misery deeper an
. more desperate. For ali races sine
y the beginning, there has ben a mi
q lenium; which never comes. Nov
= as of old, man is born to sorrow, :
le the sparks fly upward, The opl
J: secret of happiness is to love th
es neighbor as thyself. While genuin
1t philanthropy finds its best EXPIRE
+ sion in the universal brotherhood
u. man, individual acts of kindnes
o. like the stars above, compose Il
e armament Of love.
a CRUELTY TO NAN rs TREASON !
GOD.
/ All the dead whose dust we ha'
ne covered with flowers are silent sent
to nels for the army Of the livin
it Though the bones be dust the dro
f. gems of Godlike man sparkle fo
ty syer in world where every ii
ot speaks natures loyeliness and eve