Milford chronicle., 1888-02-03

the darkness; but exquisite embroidery, ele-
giant pictures, and bust Of Shakespeare ON
the mantel. The pulses stop; the minister
comes in to read Of the resurrection, that day
when the dead shall come up--both he that
died on the floor and he that expired under
princely upholstery. He is carried out to
burial Only a few mourneTs, but n great
array Of carriages. Not one common man at
the funeral. No befriended orphan TO weep
tear on his grave. No chill of want press
ing through the ranks Of the weeping. saying:
she is the last friend have, and must see
him.H
What nowi He was a great man. Shall
not chariots Of salvation come down to the
other side Of the Jordan and escort him up
to the palace9 Shall not the angels exclaim:
Turn outl A prince is coming.n win the
bells chimel Win there be harpers with
their harps and trumpeters with their trum-
petsl
MOI mol mol There will be a sbudder as
though calamity mad happened. Standing
on heavens battlement, watchman will see
something shoot past with fiery downfall,
and shrek: "Wandering star, for whom is
reserved the blackness Of darkness foreverIs
But sadder yet is the closing Of a woman's
life that has been worshipful of worldliness, all
the wealth Of lifetime's opportunity wasted.
What tragedy A woman on her dying
pillow, thinking Of what she might have done
for God and humanity, and yet having done
nothing Compare her demise with that of
a Harriet Newell going down to peacefully
die in the Isle Of France reviewing her life
time sacrifices for the redemption Of India
or at the last hours of Elizabeth Hervey,
having exchanged her bright New Eng
land home for a life at Bombay amid
stolid heathenism, that she might illumine il,
saying in her last moments; IF this is the
dark valley, it has not dark spot in it; all
Z is light, lightl' or the exit of Mrs. Lennox,
falling under sudden disease at Smyrna,
breathing out her soul with the last words:
"Oh, how happy?' or the departure Of Mrs.
Sarah d. Comstock, spending her life for
the salvation Of Burmah, giving up her chill
dren that they might come home to America
to be educated, and saying, as she kissed
them good-by, never to see them again: "Oh.
Jesus, do this for Theer' or the going Of
10000 good women, who, in less resounding
spheres, have lived not for themselves, but
for God and the alienation Of human suffer
ing. That was brilliant scene when, in
l4S5, in the campaign for the capture OF
Ronda, Queen Elizabeth Of CASTLE, on
horseback, side by side with K ng Ferdinand
rode out to review the troops As she
in bright armor rode along the lines Of the
Spanish host, and waved her jeweled hand
to the warriors, and ever and anon uttered
words Of cheer to the worn veterans who, far
away from their homes, were rislxing their
lives for the kingdom, it was a spectacle that
illumines history. But more glorious will be
the scene when that consecrated Christian
woman crowned in heaven shall review the
souls that on earth she clothed, and fed, and
medicined, and evangelical, and then intro
duced into the ranks celestial As on 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 any
thing ever witnessed on earth in the life Of
Joan Of Arc, or Penelope, or Semiramis, or
Aspasia, or Marianne, or Margaret Of Anjou
Ride on, victorl