The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1885-04-08
pANoER or WORLDLY ELrvAr1oN.

were hunureus OF people VINO would have
considered 1t the greatest honor of their
life just TO have him to speak to them; yet,
although he is so, high up in the worlds
position, he is not beyond the reach of
Ehud's dagger. see a great many people
trying to climb up In social position, hav-
ing an idea that there is a safe place somo-
where far above, not knowing that the
mountain Of fame has a top like Mont
Blanc, covered with perpetual snow. We
laugh at the children of Shinar for
trying TO build tower that could reach
the heavens; but think IL our eyesight
were only good enough we could see a
Babel in many door-yard. Oh, the
struggle is fierce! It is store against
store, house ags&Ast hocse, street against
street, nation against nation. The goal
for which men are running is chairs and
chandeliers, and mirrors and houses,
and lands and Presidential equip
ments. II they get what they anticipate,
what have they got Men are not safe
from calumny while they live; worse than
that, they are not safe after they are dead,
for have seen swine root up grave-yards.
One day man goes up into publicity, and
the world does him honor and people climb
up into sycamore trees to watch him as he
passes, and as ho goes along on the shoul-
ders Of the people there is a waving Of hats
and a wild huzza. Tomorrow the same
man is caught between the jaws Of the
printing press and mangled and bruised,
and the very same persons who applauded
him before cry: "Down with the traitor !
Down with himW tJtt5s ~ s...
THE HIGHEST OF ALL EULoGIUMs.
Belshazzer sits at the feast, tho mighty
men Of Babylon sitting all around him.
Wit sparEles like the wine, and the wine
like the wit Music rolls up among the
chandeliers; the chandeliers fash down
on the decanters. The breath of hanging
gardens floats in on the night air; the
voice Of reveling floats out amidst wreaths
and tapestry and folded banners. A fin
ger writes. The march of host is heard
on the stairs. Laughter catches in the
throat. A thousand hearts stop beating.
The blow is struck. The blood on the floor
is richer hued than the wine on the table.
The kingdom has departed. Belshazzar
was no worse, perhaps, than hundreds Of
people In Babylon, but his position slew
him. Oh! be contenbed with just such a
position as God has placed you in. 1t
may not be said of us: He was q great
General" or " He was an honored chief
TAIN" or He was mighty in worldly at
tainments," but this thing may be said Of
you and OF me: He was a good citi-
zen, a faithful Christian and a friend Of
Jesus:" and this in the last day will be
the highest Of all eulogiums.
DEATH IN THE sUMMEE.HoUsE.
learn further from this subject that
death comes to the summer-house. Eglon
did not expect to die in that fine place.
Amidst all the fower-leaves that drifted
like summer snow into the window, In the
tinkle and dash OF the fountains, in the
sound OF thousand leaves Tutoring on
one tree-branch, in the cool breeze that
came up to shake feverish trouble out Of the
Kings locks, there was nothing that spoke
of death-buS there he died. In the win
ter, when the snow Is n shroud, and when
the wind Is dlrge, IL is easy to think of
our mortality; but when the weather is
pleasant, and all our surroundings are
agreeable, how difficult it is for us to ap-
preciate the truth that we are mortal |
And yet, my text teaches that death does
sometimes come TO the summer-house. He
is blind, and can not see the leaves. He is
deaf, and can not hear the mountains. Oh,
II death would ask us for victims, we could
point him to hundreds OF people who would
rejoice to have him come. Push back the
door OF that hovel. Look at that little
child-cold, and sick and hungry. 1t has
never heard the name of God but In BIAS
phemy. Parents intoxicated, staggering
around Its straw bed. Oh, death, there is
q mark for theel Up with it into the
lightl Before those little feet stumble on
life's pathway; give them rest.
Here is an aged man. He has done his
work. He has done IL gloriously. The
companions Of his youth all gone, his chill
dren dead, he ought TO be at rest, and
wearily the days and the nights pass. He
says: "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.D
Oh, death, there is b mark for thee. Take
from him the staff, and give him the
scepter Up with him into the light,
where eyes never grow dim and the hair
whitens not through the long years OF
eternity. All, death viii not do thati
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 hear, thou bony, CHASTITY monster,
amidst this waving grass and under this
sunlight sitting through the tree branchesS
Children are at play. How quickly their
feet 60 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 of lamb.
Meanwhile an old archer stands looking
through the thicket. He points his arrow
at the brightest of the group, and he Is q
sure marksmau-the bow bends, the arrow
speeds Hush now. The quick feet have
stopped and the locks toss no more in the
wind. Lolghtsr has gone out Of the hall.
Death In the summer housei
HOME PICTURES.
Here Is father in mid-life; his coming
home at night is a signal for mirth. The
children rush to the door, and there are
books on the evening stand, and the hours
pass away on glad foot. There is nothing
wanting In that home. Religion Is there,
and sacrifices on the altar morning aud
night. You look In that household and
say: ~ can not think Of any thing hap
pier. do not really believe the world 10
so sad place as somc people describe II to