Milford chronicle., 1889-02-22

concerning dead dog, said; why, this 4
must be Jesus of Nazareth Reproved and /
convicted they went away. Surely this /
legend Of Christ is good enough to be true. I
Kindness in all his words and ways and /
habits. Forgiveness Word Of eleven letters /
and some Of them thrones, and some of them /
palm branches Better have Christ write |
close to cur names that one word though he 1
writc it in dust, than to have our name cut |
int0 monumental granite with the letters
that the storms Of = thousand years cannot |
oblterate Bishop Darlington had book of 1
onl,5 three leaves. The first leaf was black, |
the second leaf red, the third leaf white. The |
black leaf suggested sin, the red leaf atone
ment, the white leaf publication That is the
whole story, God VIII abundaptly pardon
AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE WORLDS MUS
TICE
l must not forget to say that as Christ |
stopping down, with his finger wrote on the |
ground, it is evident that his sympathies are
with this penitent woman, and that he has |
no sympathy with her hypocritical pmsuers
Jus5 opposite to that is the worlds habit |
Why didn't these unclean Pharisees bring one
of their own number to Christ for excoria- |
tiona and capital punishment! No, no; they
overlook that in a man which they condemn
in a woman. And so the world has had for
offending women, scourges and objurgatiOn,
and for just one Olfense, she becomes an out
cast, while for men whose lives have been so-
donnie for twenty years. the world swings
open its doors OF brilliant welcome, and
they may sit in legislatures and senates and
parliaments or on thrones. Unlike the Christ
of my text the world writes a mans mis-
demeanor in dust, but chisels a woman's Of
fense with great capitals upon lnefaceable
marble. For foreign lords and princes, whose
names cannot even be mentioned in respecta-
bic circles abroad, because they are walking
lazarettoes of abomination, our American
princesses Of fortune wait, and at the first
beck sail out with them into the blacllness Of
darkness forever. And IN what are called
higher circles of society there isnOw not only
the imitation of foreign dress and foreign
manners, but an imitation of foreign disso-
luteness l like an Englishman and like an
American, bEt the sickest creature on earth
is an American playing the Englishman.
Society needs to be reconstructed on this sub
iect Treat them alike, masculine and femi-
nine crime. If you cut the one in granite,
cut them both in granite. If you write the
one in dust, write the other in dust. No, no!
says the world let woman 60 down and let
man go up. What is that l hear plashing
from the great Bridge at midnight, and then
there is a gurgle as of strangulation, and all
is still Never mindl 1t is only woman too
discouraged to live. Let themillsof the cruel
world grind right on
SIGNIFICANCE OF CHRIsT's DUST WRITING.
But while speak of Christ of the text, his
STOPPING down writing in tue dust, do not
think underrate the literatife Of the dust,
1t is the most solemn and tremendous of all
literature 1t is the greatest of all libraries.
L. l. L.
opening the door Of its mighty dust The ox-
cavations of Pompeii have only been the un-
clasping of the lids of a volume of a nations
dust When Admiral Farragut and his
friends, few years ago, visited that resur-
rected city, the house of BalbO, who had been
one Of its chief citizens in its prosperous days,
was opened, and a table was spread in that
house which eighteen hundred and ten years
has been buried by volcanic eruption, and
Farragut and his guests walked over the ex-
quisite mosaics and under the beautiful
fresco, and it almost seemed like being enter
tanned by those who eighteen centuries ago
had turned to dust. Oh, this mighty litera-
ture of the dust Where are the remains of
Sennacherib and Attila and Epaminondas
and Tamerlane and Trojan and Philip of
Macedon and Julius CRsarl Dust Where
are the heroes who fought on both sides at
Cheronea, at Hastings, at Marathon, at
Cressy, of the 10000 mon who fought at
Agincourt Of the 250,0O0 men who faced
death ct Jena, of the 100000 whose armOr
glittered in the sun at Wagrem, of the l,OOO,-
900 men under Darius at Arbella, Of the
2,641 600 men under Xerxes at Thermopyl9l
They arc all dust
Where are the guests who danced the floors
of the Alhambra, or the Persian palaces Of
.,
who played, and the orators who spoke, and
tho sculptors who chiselod, and the archi-
tccts who built in all the centuries except our
own, Dustl The greatest library in the
world, that which has the widest shelves and
tho longest aisles and the most multitudinous
volumes and the Vastest riches, is the un-
derground library. 1t is the royal library
the continental library, the hemisphere Ii
brary, the planetary library, the library of
the dust. And all these library eases viii be
opened, and all these scrolls .anrolled
and all these volumes unclasped; and
as easily as in your library or mine
we take up a bOok, blow the dust of
Of it, and thrn over its pages, so easily viii
the Lord Of the Resurrection pick up out of
this library Of dust every volume Of human
life, and open it and read it and display it,
And the volume will be rebound, to be set in
the royal library Of the Kings palace, OF in
the prison library Of the self destroyed. Oh,
this mighty literature Of the dust 1t IS not
so wonderful after all that Christ chose, in
stead Of an inkstand, the impressiOnable sand
on the floor Of an ancient temple, and instead
Of a hard pen, put forth his forefinger with
the same kind of nerve and muscle and bone
and flesh as that which makes up our own
forcfnger, and wrote the awful doom Of
4. IL.
for repentant sinners, even the worst
And now can believe that which l read,
how that u mother kept burning candle in
the window every night for ten years, and
one night very late, a poor waif Of the street
entered. The aged woman said to her, sit
down by the fire. and the stranger said,
why do you keep that light in the Window
The aged woman said: That is TO light my
wayward daughter when she returns. Since
she went away ten years ago, my halr has
turned white Folks blame me for worrying
about her, but you see ! am her mother and
sometimes, half dozen times night, open
the door and look out into the darkness and
cry, 'Mnnier 'Minnier But l must not tell
YOU any more about my trouble, for guess,
from the way you cry, you have trouble
enough Of your own. Why, how cold and
sick you seeml Oh, myl can it BET Yes
you are Minnie, my own lost child, Thank
God that you are home again. And what
time of rejoicing there was in that house that
night! And Christ again stopped down and
| In the ashes of that hearth, now lighted up
not more by the great blazing logs than by
the joy of a reunited household, wrote the
same liberating words that he had written
more than eighteen hundred years ago in the
dust Of the Jerusalem temple. Forgiveness
A word broad enough and high enough to let
pass through it all the armies Of heaven,
million abreast, on white horses, nostrl to
nostrii, flank to flank
ODDS AND ENDS.