Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1891-12-25

ing Your morning. Our Father gave US
the picture, and hung it on the SKY IN loops
of fire 1t is the heirloom OF our family.
And 80 the night. IL Is the full moon.
The rnists from shore TO shore CLEAN like
shattered mirrors, and the ocean, under her
glance comes up with great tides, painting
upon the beach, mingling, as it were. foam
and fire. The poor man blesSeS God for
throwing such cheap hgnt through the
broken window pane in his cabin, and TO the
sick it seems a light from the other snore
which bounds this great deep of human pain
and woe. Ii the sun seemed like a song full
and poured from braZen instruments that
fill heaven and earth with great harmonieS,
the moon Is plalntive and mild, standing
beneath the throne of God, sending up her
soft, sweet voice of praise, while the stars
listen, and the sea.
No mother ever mora sweetly guarded the
sick cradle than all night long this pale
watcher of tho sky bends over the weary,
heartsick, slumberiDg earth. Whose Is this
black framed, black tasseled picture of the
night! 1t is the heirloom Of our family.
Ours, the grandeur of the spring, the crys-
tails of the snow the coral of the beach, the
odors Of the garden, the harmonies OF the
air.
You cannot see a large estate in one
morning. You must take several walks
around it. The family property OF this royal
house OF Jesus is so great that we must take
several walks to get any idea of its extent.
Let the first walk be around this earth. All
these valleys, the harvests that wave in them
and the cattle that pasture them-all these
mountains and the precious things hidden
beneath them, and TIE crown Of glacier they
cast at the feet Of the Alpine hurricane-all
these lakes, these islands, these continents,
are ours. In the second walk go among the
street lamps Of heaven, and see stretching
off on every side wilderness of worlds. For
us they shine. For Us they sang at Saw
%tary ynn1I 1f0
line and with their flaming torches add to
the splendor of our triumph on the day for
which all other days were made.
In the third walk go around the Eternal
City. As we come near it. bark to the rush
of its chariots and the wedding peal of it's
great towers. The bell OF heaven has struck
twelve. It is high noon. We look off upon
the chaplets which never fade, the eyes that
never weep, the temples that never close, the
loved ones that never part, the procession
that never halts, the trees That never Wlther,
the walls that never can be captured. the
sun that never sets, until we can no longer
gaze, and we hide our eyes and exclalm.
eve hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither
have entered into the heart OF man, the
things which God hath prepared for them
that love Him" AS these tides OF glory
rise we have 90 retreat and hold fast lest we
be swept off and drowned in the emotions OF
gladness and thanksgiving and triumph.
What think you OF the family property?
It is considered an honor to marry into
family where there is great wealth. me
Lord, tn bridegroom of earth and heaven,
offers you His heart and His hand, saying
in the words of the Canticles, "Rse up, My
love- NV fair one, and come away" and
once having put on thy hand the slgnet ring
of His love, you will be endowed with all the
wealth of earth and all the honors of heaven.
Almost every family looks back to a home
stead-some country place where YOU grew
up. You sat on the doorsill. You heard the
1ootstep OF the rain on the garrett roof. You
barn. You waded into the brook. You
thrashed the orchard for apples, and the
nelghboring woods for nuts: and
everything around the old homestead
IS of interest to you. [ tell you of the old
homestead of eternity. In my Fathers
OF mansions we think of Chatsworth and its
park, nine miles in circumference, and its
conservatory that astonishes the world: its
galleries of art, that contains the triumphs
of Chantrey, Canova and Thorwaldsen: of
the kings and the queens who have walked
its stately halls, Or, flying over the heather
have hunted the grouse. But all the dwell
ing places of dukes and princes and queens
are as nothing to the family mansion that is
already awaiting on our arrival. The hand
OF the Lord Jesus lifted the pillars and swung
the doors and planted the parks Angels
walk there, and the gods Of all ages. The
poorest man in that house is a millionaire
and the lowliest a king, and the tamest
word he speaks in an anthem and the short
est life an eternity.
1t took Paxton to build for Chatsworth
covering for the wonderful flower Vic
toria Regia, i've feet in diameter But our
Lilly of the Valley shall need no shelter from
the blast and in the open gardens of God
shall put forth its full bloom, and all heaven
shall come to look at it, and it's aroma shall
be as though the cherubim had swung before
the thronea thousand censers. I have not
seen 1T yet. L am in a foreign land. But my
fatherlS waiting for me to come home. |
have brothers and sisters there In the
Bible have letters from there telling me
what fine place it is. 1t matters not much
to me whether | am rich or poor, or whether
the world hates me or loves me, or whether
L 60 by land or by sea, if only may lift my
eyes at last on the family mansion.
1t is not a frail house, built in a month,
soon to crumble, but an old mansion which
is as firm as the day it was built. Its walls are
grown with the ivy Of many ages, and the
urns at the gateway are abloom with the
century plants of eternity. The Queen OF
Sheba hath walked its halls, and Esther and
Marie Antoinette and Lady Huntingdon and
Cecil and Jeremy Taylor and Samuel Ruth
erfOrd and John Milton, and the widow who
gave two mites, and the poor men from the
hospltal-these last two perhaps outshining
all the kings and queens of eternity.
family manson means reunion. Some
OF your families are very much scattered
The children married, and went off to ST.
Louis e. Chicago or Charleston; out per-
haps once year you come together at the
old place. How you wake up the Old piano
that has been silent for yearsI Father and
mother do not play in it, How you bring
out the old relics, and rummage the gar
ret, and open old scrapbools, and shout and
laugh and cry and talk over old times, and
though you may be forty-five years of age,
act as though you were sixteenI Yet
soon 1T is goodbye at the car window, and
goodbye at The steamboat wharf But how