Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-03-30

whItens not through the long years of eter-
hlty. an Death Will not do that! Death
turns back from the straw bed and from The
aged man ready for the skies, and comes to
the summer house. What doest thou here, thou
beny, CHASTITY monster, amidst this waving
grass and under this sunlight sitting through
the tree -branches2 Children are at play. How
quielly their feet go and their locks toss IN the
wind% Father and mother stand at the side of
the room enjoying their glee. 1t does not
seem possible that the wolf should ever break
into that fold and carry on lamb. Mean
while an old archer stands looking through
the thicket. He points his arrow at the bright
est OF the group-he Is a sure marksman-the
bow bends, the arrow speedsl Hush now. The
quick feet have stopped and the locks toss no
more IN the wind. Laughter has gone out of
the hall. Death in the summer house.
Here is a father in mid-life; his coming
home st night is the signal for mirth. The
children rush to the door, and there are books
on the evening stand and the hours pass away
on & ad feet. There is nothing wanting in
that home. Religion Is there and sacrifices
on the altar morning and night. You lOOK in
that household and say: 81 cannot think Of
anything happier. do not really believe the
worlds so sad place as some people describe
1t to be.' The scene changes. Father is sick
The doors must be kept shut. The death
watch chirps dolefully on the hearth. The
children whisper and walk softly where once
they romped. Passing the house late at night
you see the quick glancing of lights from
room TO room. 1t Is all over! Death in the
summer house!
hrm. You think you Will nave the joy of
caring for her wants a good while yet. As
she goes from house to house, to children and
grandchildren, her coming is a dropping Of
sunlight in the dwelling. Your children see
her coming through the lane and they CRY: /:
"GrandmOther's cOme!' Care for you has
marked up her face with many deep wrIn-
kle, and her back stOOps with CARRYING your
burdens. Some day she is very quiet SEe
says she is not sick, but something tells you
you VIII not much longer have mother.
She Will sit with you no more at the table, nor
at the hearth. Her soul goes out so gently
you do not exactly know the moment of its
going. Fold the hands that have done so
many kindnesses for you right over the heart
that has beat with love toward you since be-
fore you were born. Let the pilgrim rest.
She Is weary. Death in the summer house!
Gather about us what we will Of comfort
and luxury, when the pale messenger comes
ne does not stop TO look at the architecture of
the house before he comes in; nor, entering
does he wait to examine the pictures
we have gathered on the walls; or, bending
over your pillow, he does not stop to see
whether there is color in the cheek or gentle
ness IN the eye or intelligence in the brow.
But what of that? Must we stand forever
mourning among the graves of our dead?
No! no! The people in Bengal bring cages of
birds to the graves of their dead, and then
they open the cages and the birds 90 singing
heavenward. So would bring to the graves
OF your dead tonight all bright thoughts and
congratulations and bid them sing of victory
and redemption. | stamp on tue bottom OF
the grave and it breaks through into the light
and the glory of heaven.
The ancients used to think that the straits
entering the Red sea were very dangerous
places, and they supposed that every ship
that went through those straits would be de-
stroyed, and they were IN the habit of putting
on weeds OF mourning for those who had gone
on that voyage as though they were actually
dead. Do you know what they called those
straits? They called them the ''Gate OF
Tears Oh, stand Tonight at the gate of
tears through which many of your loved ones
have gone, and want tell you that all are
not shipwrecked tina have gone through those
straits into the great ocean stretching out be-
yond-the sound that comes from that other
shore on still nights, when we are wrapped
In prayer. makes me think the departed are
not dead. We are the dead-we who toll,
How my heart aches for human sorrow! This
sound OF breaking hearts that hear all about
me. This last look of faces that will never
brighten again! This last kiss of lips that
VIII never speak again! This widOwhOOd and
orphanage! Oh, when will the day of sorrow
be go e?
After the sharpest winter the spring dis
mounts from the shoulder of a southern gale
ana puts Its warm hand upon the earth and
in its palm here comes the grass and there
come the flowers, and God reads over the
poetry OF bird and book and bloom and pro-
nounces it very good. What, nv friends If
every winter had not Its spring and every
night It's day and every gloom its glow and
every bitter now its sweet hereafter. - vNU
nave 0esl Du LnV sla yeU know az tbe alIN
passes Ia the night thsEo .s phosp phoresesef
track left behind it; and os .he waters ro au
tnoy toss with nnimaginable 81 eDdor. eiL
across TINS great ocean Of hum2n trouble
Jesus NaiNs On, Lnas ..-- ..--.- 7a.,--
track Of MS feet We mi~
illumine3i
There vas gear'eman in railroad car who
saw l. hai same Ear three passengers of very
dlHero Ecumstances. The first was a ma
mac g aas carefully guarded by his at
tendants. His mind, like ship dism ssted
was beating against dark, desolate coast
from which no help could come. The train
stopped, and the man was taken out into the
asylum, to waste away, perhaps through
years of gloom. The second pas -enger was a
culprlt. The outraged law had seized on him.
AS the cars jOlted. the chains ratified. On
ms face were crime, depravity and despair
Inc train halted, and he was taken out to the
penltentIary. to which he had been con-
demned There was the third passenger
under far different circumstances. She was a
DrlQe. Every hour was gay as a marriage
bell. Life glittered and beckoned. Her com
panlon was taking her to his fathers house
The train halted. The old man was there to
welcome her to her new home, and his white
locks showed down upon her as he sealed his
word with fathers kiss.
Quickly we fly toward eternity, We will
soon be there. Some leave this life condemned
culprlts. They refused pardon. They carry
thelr chains. Oh, may It be with US that
leaving this 1eeting life for the next we may
md our Father ready to greet us to our new
nome with him forever. That will be a mar
rage banquet! Fathers welcome! Fathers
bosom! Fathers kiss! Heaven! Heaven