The Port Gibson reveille. [volume] (Port Gibson, Miss.) 1890-current, 1891-11-18
Tho Mystery ofLfe.

prOnt-Without posscssiOnI Shall the
strength of its generations be as bar
ren rs death; or cast away their labour
as the wild flgtree casts her untimely
iigsf Is it all dream, then-the de-
sire Of the eyes and the pride Of life
or, if il be, might we not live i'm nObler
dream than this? The poets aud
prophets, the wise men, and the scribes,
though they have told us nothing
about q life to come, have told us
much about the life that now is. They
have had-they also-their dreams,
and we have laughed at them. They
have dreamed of mercy, and Oijusiice;
they have dreamed Of peace and good
will; they have dreamed OF labour un-
disappointed, and of rest undisturbed ;
they have dreamed of fulness in har-
vest, and of Ovcrhowing in store
they have dreamed of wisdom in coun-
Gil, and of providence in law: of glad
ness Of parents, and strength Of child
ren, and glory Of grey hairs. And at
these visions Of theirs we have mock
ed, and held them for idle and vain,
unreal and unaccomplishable. What
have we accomplished with our reali-
ties Z Is this what has come of our
worldly wisdom, tried against their
eOlly? this our mighticst possible a
gainst their impotent ideal or have
we only wandered among the spectra
OF a baser felicity, and chased phan-
toms Of the tOmbs, instead of visions
of the almighty; and walked after
the imaginatiOns Of our evil hearts,
instead of alter the counsels of etcrni-
ty, until our lives-nOt in the likeness
of the cloud of heaven, but of the
smoke of hell-haVc become 'fas a va
pour that appearcth for a little time,
and then vanisheth awayY
Does il vanish then? Are you sure
Of that? sure, that the nOthingncss of
the grave will be a rest from this
troubled nothingness; and that the
coiling shadow, which disquiets itself
in vain, can not change into the smoke
Of the torment that ascends for ever ?
Will any answer that they are sure Of
II, and that there is no fear, nor hope,
nor desire, nor labour, whittier they
gO7 BE it SO; will You not, then,
make as sure Of the Life, that now is,
as You are of the Death that is to
come? Your hearts arc wholly in this
world-will you not give them 10 il
wisely rs well as perfectly 2 Because
you have no heaven to look for, is that
any reason you should remain ignorant
of this wonderful and infinite earth,
which is firmly and instantly given
you in possession? Although your
days arc numbered, and the following
darkness sure, is il necessary that you
should share the degradation Of the
brute, because you arc condemned 10
its mortality; or live the life Of the
moth, and of the worm, because you
arc to companion them in the dust 7
Not so; we may have but a few thou
sands Of days to spend, perhaps hun
dreds Only-perhaps tens nay, the
longest of our time and best, looked
back on, will be but as q moment, as the
twinkling OF an eye; still, VIC are men,
not insects; We are living spirits, not
passing clouds. ale makcth the winds
Ills messengers; the mOmentary fire
Ills minister;" and shall VIC do less
than theseP Let us do the work of
men while we bear the form of them;
and as we snatch our narrow portion
Of time out of eternity, snatch also our
narrow portion of passion out of i'm
mortality-evcn though our lives be
rs a vapour that appeareth for little
time and then vanisheth away.
But there are some of you who do
not believe this-who think this cloud
of life has no such clOse-that it Is TO
float, revealed and illnmincd, upon the
floor of heaven in the day when lie
cometh with clouds. and every eye
shall sec Him. Some day, you believe,
within these five, or ten, or twenty
years, for every one of ms tho judgment
will be sci, and tho books opened. III
that be true. far more than that must
be true. Is there but one day Of judg-
ment? Why, for us every day is a
day Of judgment-cVery day is n
Dies Irac, and writes its irrcyOcable
verdict in the flame of its west. Think
you that judgemnt waits tall the doors
of the grave arc opcnod9 II waits at
the doors of your houses-it waits at
the corners of your streets; we arc in
the midst of judgmcnt-tho insects
that We crush are our judgcs-the mo-
ments we fret away arc our judges
the elements that feed us, judge, as
they ministcr-and the pleasures that
deceive US Judge as they indulge.
Let us, for our lives, do the work Of
men while we bear the form of them,
if indeed those lives are not rs a va
pour, and do not vanish away.--IeUskin.