Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1889-09-25
THE PEOPLE ARE LOOKING FOR.
WARD.
DIR. TALMAeE's SERMON SUNDAY, SEPT. Is.

lDRooKLYN, September 15.-The Rev. T
ID De Witt Talmage, DID,, preached al
the Tabernacle.to day to vast congre
was: "Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth
her voice iu the streets.'' Prov. l., 20.
He said:
We are all ready to listen to The voices o1
nature-the voices of the mountain, the
voices of the sea, the voices of the storm,
the voices of the star. As in some of the
cathedrals in Europe there is an organ at
either end of the building, and the one ill.,
strument responds musically to the other,
so in the great cathedral of nature day re-
spends to day, and night to night, and
flower to flower, and star to Star, in the
great harmonies of the universe. The spring
time is an evangelist in blossoms preaching
of Gods love; and the winter is a prophet
white bearded-denouncing WOO against
our sins. We are all ready to listen to the
voices of nature; but how few of US learn
ANYTHING from the voices of the noisy and
dusty street. You go to your merchandise,
and your mechanism, and to your work,
and YOU come back again-and often with
an Indifferent heart you pass through the
streets. Are there no things for US to learn
from these pavements over which we pass?
Are there no tufts of truth growing up be.
tween these cobblestones, beaten with the
feet of toll, and pain, and pleasure, the slow
tread of old age, and quick step of child
hood? Aye, there are great harvests to be
reaped; and now thrust in she sickle be-
cause the harvest is ripe. "Wisdom crieth
without; she uttereth her voice in the
Streets"
In the first place the street impresses me
with the fact that this life is scene of toll
and struggle. By 10 o'clock every day the
city is jarring with wheels, and shuff1ing
with feet, and humaning with voices, and
covered with the breath of smokestacks,
and a-rush with trafickers. Once in a while
you find a man going along with folded
arms aud with leisurely step, as though he
had nothing to do; but for the most part, as
you find men going down these streets, on
the way to business, there is anxiety in
their faces, as though they had some errand
which must be executed at the first possi-
BILE moment. You are jostled by those who
have bargains to make and notes to sell.
Up this ladder with hod of bricks, out of
this bank with a roll of bills, on this dray
with load of goods, digging cellar, or
shingling a roof, or shoeing horse or
building wall, or mending watch, or
UluuluS d UOOk. IbuuStlys Will uci buuu-
sand arms, and thousand eyes, and thou
sand feet, goes on singing her song of work!
work! work. while the mills drum it, and
the steam whistles fife it. All this is not
because men love toll. Some one remark
ed: GEvery man is as lazy as he can afford
tosbe." But it is because necessity, with
stern brow and with uplifted whip, stands
over them ready whenever they relax their
toll to make their shoulders sting with the
lash. Can 1t be that, passing up and down
these streets on your way to work and busi-
ness, you do not learh anything of the
worlds toll, and anxiety. and struggle? Oh,
how many dropping hearts, how many eyes
on the watch, how many miles travelled,
how many bardens carried, how many losses
suffered, how many battles fought, how
many victories gained. how many defeats
suffered, how many exasperatioDs endured
what losses, what hunger, what wretch
edness what pallor, what disease, what ag-
ony, what despairl Sometimes have stop
ped at the corner of the street as the multi
tude went hither and yon, and it has SEEM
ed to be great pantomime, and as look
ed upon it my heart broke. This great tide