Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1888-02-08

ing perpetually over new style of cloak
, | have known men reckless as to thei
character, and regardless of interests mo
mentous and eternal, exasperated by tn
shape of vest button. What is the matte
with that woman wrought uD into tht
agony of despairs Oh, her muff is out o
fashion
Worse than all-this folly is not satisfied
until it has extirpated every moral senti
meut and blasted the soul. A wardrobe il
the-rock upon which many soul has been
riven. The excitement of such luxurious
life has been the vorfex that has swallo wed
up more souls than the maelstrom off Nor
way ever destroyed. Who can wonder that in
this haste for sun gilded baubles and wing
ed thistle-dowu men and women should
tumble into ruin? The travellers to de-
struction are not all clothed in rags. Or
that road chariot jostles against chariot;
and behind steeds in harness, golden plated
and glittering, they go down, coach and
four. herald and postillioB; racketing on
| the hot pavements of hell. Clear the track
Baz aars hang out their colors over the
road; and trees of tropical fruitfulness
overbranch the way. No sound of woe
disturbs the air, but all is light, and song,
and wiue and gorgeousness. The world
comes out to greet the dazzling procession
with ''Hurrah Hurrah ~ But suddenly
there is halt and an outcry of dismay, and
an overthrow worse than the Red Sea
tnmbling upon the Egyptians. Shadow of
gravestones upon finest silk Wormwood
squeezed into impearled goblots Death
with one cold breath witheriDg the leaves
and freezing the fountains.
In the wild tumult of the Last Day-the
| ell. fk4 Aufp t1A
thrones uprising, the universe assembling;
amid the boom of the last great thunder
peal and under the cracking of a burning
world-what will become of the disciple of
unholy fashion?
But watch the career of one thoroughly
artificial. Through Inheritance, or per
haps his own skill having obtained enough
for purposes of display, he feels himself
thoroughly established. He sits aloof from
the common herd and looks out of his win
dow upon the poor man and says, "Put
that dirty wretch off my steps immediate
ly % On Sabbath days he finds the church,
but mourns the fact that he must worship
with so many of the inelegant, and says,
"They are perfectly awful That man that
you put in my pew had coat on his back
that did not cost five dollars" He struts
through life unsympathetic with trouble,
and says, 81 cannot be bothered" Is de-
lighted with some doubtful story of
Partisan life, but thinks that there are
some very indecent things in the Bible
Walks arm in arm with the successful man
of the world, but does not know his own
brother. Loves to be praised tor his
splendid house, and when told that he looks
younger than ten years ago says: "Well,
really, 90 you think SO ?"
But the brief strut of his life ia about
over. Up stairs. he dies. No angel wings
lowering about him. No Gospel promises
kindhug up the darkness ; but exquisite
embroidery, elegant pictures, and bust of
Shakspere on the mantel. The pulses
stop. The minister comes in to read of the
Resurrection, that day when the dead shall
come .p-both he that died on the floor
and be that expired under princely up
holstery. He is carried out to burial
Only a few mourners, but a great array of
carriages. Not one common man at the
funeral. No befriended orphan to weep
tear on his grave. No child of want press
ing through the ranks of the weeping, say
ing "He is tn9alast friend l have and I
must see him."
What now? He was great man. Shall
not ehariots Of salvation come down to the
other side of the Jordan aud escort him up
to the palace? Shall not the angels exclaim:
''Turn out! A prince is coming" Will
the bells chime? Will there be harpers
with their harps, and trumpeters with their
trumpets?
No! No! No! There will be shudder,
as though calamity had happened. Stand
ing on heavens battlement watchman
will see something shoot past, with fiery
downfall and shrek: "Wandering star
for whom is reserved the blackness of
darkness forever.
But sadder yet is thu closing of a
woman's life that has been worshiptul of
worldliness, all the wealth of a lifetime's
opportunity wasted. What tragedy a
woman on he. dying pillow, thinking of
what she might have done for God and
humanity, and yet having done nothingl
Compare her demise with that of Harriet
Newell going down to peacefully die in the
Isle of France, reviewing her lifetime
sacrifices for the redemption of India, or
the last hours of Elzabeth Hervey, having
exchanged her bright New England home
for life at Bombay amid ssolid heathen-
ism, that she might illunine it, saying in
her last moments : ''1f this is the dark
valley, it has not a dark spot in it; all is
light, lightw or the exit of Mrs. Lennox,
falling under sudden disease at Smyrna,
breathing out her soul with the last words:
"Oh, how nappy!' cr the departure of
Mrs. Sarah D Comstock, spending her life
for the salvation of Burmab, giving up her
children that they might come home to
America to be educated, and saying as she
kissed them good bye, never to see them
again: so, Jesus, do this for TheeP or
the going of ten thousand good women,
who in less resounding spheres have lived
not for themselves, but for God and the al
deviation of human suffering. That was q
brilliant scene when, in 1885, in the cam
paign for tie capture of RoDda, Queen
El,zaheth of CASTLE, on horseback, side by
side with King Ferdinand, rode out to re-
view the troops. AS she in bright armOr
rode along the lines of the Spanish host,
and waved her jewelled hand to the warri-
ors, and ever aud anon uttered words of
cheer to the worn veterans who, far away
from their homes, were risking their lives
for the kingdom, it was spectacle that il
lumines history. But more glorious will
be the scene when that consecrated Chris
tian woman crowned in heaven shall re-
view the souls that on earth she cloihed
and fed and medicined, and evangelized,
and then introduced into the ranks celes-
.;al. AS or the white horse Of victory side
by side with the King, this queen unto
God forever shall ride past the lines of
those in whose salvation she bore part,
the scene will surpass anything ever wit
messed on earth in the life of Joan Of Are,
or Penelope. or Semiramis, or Aspasia, or
Marianne, or Margaret, or Anjou, Ride on,
victor
Curry the G0Ws.
By our Agricultural Editor.
If any of our readers who have not done