The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-30


worldly elevation. This Eglon was what the
world called great man. There were hundreds
Of people who would have considered it the
greatest honor of their lives just to have him to
speak to them; yet, although he is so high up in
worldly position, he is not beyond the reach of
Ehud's dagger. / see great many people try
ing to climb up in social position, having an idea
that there is a safe place somewhere far above,
fame has q t TOP ike ike Mont b'' Blanc g,
covered with perpetual SHOWS. We
laugh at the children of Shnar for trying to
build tower that could reach to the heavens,
but think if our eyesight were only good
enough we could see Babel in many door
yard. Oh. the struggle is fierce 1t is store
against store. house against house, street against
street, nation against nation The goal for
which men are running is chairs, and chandeliers,
and mirrors, and houses, and lands. and president
ial equipments. If they get what they anticipate,
what have they gotl 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 he goes along on
the shoulders of the people there is waving
OF hats and a wild huzza. To morrow 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 him.
Belshazzar sits at the feast, the mighty men
OF Babylon sitting all around him. Wit
sparkles like the wine, and the wine like the wit
Music rolls up among the chandeliers; the chan
dellers flash down on the decanters. The breath
of hanging gardens floats in on tho night air.
the voice of revelry floats out. Amidst wreaths,
and tapestry, and folded banners finger 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. Bel
shazzar was no worse, perhaps, than hundreds
of people in Babylon, but his position slew him.
Oh, be content with just such a position as
God has placed you in. 1t may not be said Of
US, He was great general or HE was an
honored chieftaln," or ''he was mighty in world
ly attann,ents." But this thing may be said of
you and of me: HE was good citizen faith
full Christian, friend of Jesus" And that, in
the last day, will be the highest of all eulogums.
DEATH COMES TO THE sUNiMER-Ho
learn further from this subject that death
comes to the summerhouse. Eglon did not ex-
pect to die in that fine place. Amidst all the
flower leaves that drifted like summer snow
into the window; in the tinkle and dash of the
fountains; in the sound of thousand leaves fut-
tering one tree branch in the cool breezes that
came up to shake feverish trouble out of the
Kings locks--there was nothing that spoke of
death, but there he died! In the winter, when
q
dirge, it is easy to think of mortality; but
when the weather is pleasant and all our sur
roundings are agreeable, how difficult it is for
US to appreciate the truth that we are mortal
And yet my text teaches that death does some
times come to the summer-house. He is blind,
and cannot see the leaves. He is deaf and can
not hear the fountains. Oh if death would ask
for victims, could point him to hundreds
of people who would rejoice to have him come.
Push back the door of that hovel. Look at that
phII0-pnl6
never heard the name of God but in blasphemy.
Parents, intoxicated, staggering around its straw
bed 0. Death there is mark for thee! Up
with it into the light 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 it gloriously. The companions of
his youth all gone his children dead, he longs to
be at rest, and YEARLY the days and nights pass.
He says Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly"
0, Death there is work for thee. Take from
him the staff and give him the scepter. Up
with him unto the light, where eyes never grow
dim, and the hair whtens not through the long
years of eternity All, 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 bony, CHASTITY monster amidst the waving
grass and under the sunlight. sitting through
the tree branches2 Children are at play. How
quickly their feet go and their locks toss in the
wind. Father and mother stand at the side of
the room enjoying their glee It does not seem
possible that the wolf should ever break into
that fold and carry off lamb Meanwhile at
the brightest of the group-he is a sure marks
mantle bow bends, the arrow speeds 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 the father in mid-life; his coming home
at 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 glad
feet. There is nothing wanting in the house.
Religion is there, ard sacrifices on the altar
morning and night You look in that household
and say, II cannot think of anything happier.
do not believe the world is so sad place as some
people describe it 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!
Here is an aged mother-aged but not infrm.
You think you will have the JOY of caring for her
wants good while yet. AS she goes from house
to house. from children to grandchildren, her COM
ing is dropping of sunlight in the dwelling.
Your children see her coming through the lane
and they cry: "Grandmothers come" Care for
you has marked up her face with many a deep
wrinkle, and her back stoops with carrying your
burdens. Some day she is very quiet. She says
she is not SICK but something tells you you will
not much longer have mother She will sit
WIFI you no more dC Cne taple nor aI the neartn.
Her soul goes out so gently you do not exactly
know the moment of its going Fold the lands
that have done so many kndnesses for you right
over the heart that has beat with love toward
you since before you were born. Let the pilgrim
rest Death in the summer house.
WE WILL NOT MOURN FOREVER.
Gather about us what we will of comfort and
luxury, when the pale messenger comes he does
not look at the architecture of the house before
he comes in; nor, entering, does he wait to ex-
anime the pictures we have gathered on the
wall; or, bending over your pillow, he does not
stop to see whether there is color in the cheek,
or gentleness in the eye or intelligence in the
brow. But what of thatl Must we stand for
ever mourning among the graves of our dead9
Noi MOI The nannle in Renoal hrinn tho nanos