The Forrest City times., 1891-10-23

are the men who built 1t? Their bodies gone to dust and even the dust scattered. Even the sarcophagus in which the kings mummy may have slept is empty.
 So men e but their work lives on. We are budding pyramids not to last four thousand years. but forty thou sand. forty million, forty trillion. forty quadrillion, forty quintillion. For a while we wield the trowel or pound with the hammer or measure with the yard-stick or write with the pen, or experiment with the scientific battery, or plan with the brain, and for while the foot walks and the eye sees, and the ear hears and the tongue speaks. All the good words or bad words we speak are spread out into one layer for pyramid. All the kind deeds or malevolent deeds we do are spread out into another layer. All the Christian or unehristian example we set is spread out in another layer. All the indirect influences of our lives are spread out in another layer. Then the time soon comes when we put down the imple- ment of toll and pass away, but the pyramid stands.
 Your business and mine is not to build a pyramid but to be one of the hundreds Of thousands who shall ring trowel, or pull a rope or turn crank of derrick, or cry "Yo heavei" while lifting another block to its elevation. Though it be seemingly a small work and brief work, it is a work that shall last forever. In the last day many man and woman whose work has never been recognized on earth will come to a special honor. The Ecumenical council, now in ses- sion at Washington, it's delegates the honored representatives of fifty mil lion Methodists in all parts of the earth, will at every session do honor to the memory of John Wesley, but l wonder if any of them will think to twist garland for the memory of humble Peter Bohler, the Moravian, who brought John Wesley into the Kingdom of God. l rejoice that all the thousands who have been toiling on the pyramid of righteous ness will at last be recognized and re- warded-the mother who Drought her children to Christ, the Sabbath school teacher who brought her class to the knowledge of the truth, the unpre- tending man who saved soul. Then the trowel will be more honored than the sceptre.
 As in Egypt that December after noon, 1889, exhausted in body, mind and soul, we mounted to return to Cairo. we took our last look of the Pyramid at Gizeh. And you know there IS something in the air toward evening that seems productive of solemn and tender emotion, and that great Pyramid seemed to be humanized and with lips of stone it seemed to speak and cry out: Hear me, man, mortal and immortal! My voice is the voice of God. He designed me. Isaiah said would be a sign and a witness. l saw Moses when he was lad. wit messed the long procession of the ls- raelites as they started to cross the Red sea and Pharaohs host in pursuit of them. The falcons and the eagles of many cen turies have brushed my brow. l stood here when Cleopatra's barge landed with her sorceries and Hypatia for her virtues was slain in wonder streets Alexander the Great, Sesostris and PtolemY admired my proportions. Herodotus and Pliny sounded my praise. l am old l am very old. For thousands of years l have watched the coming and going of generations. They tarry only little while, but they make everlasting impression. l bear on my side the mark of the trowel and chisel of those who more than four thousand years ago expired. Beware what you do. Oh, man! for what you do will last long after you are dead If you would be affectionately remem- bered after you arc gone. trust not to any earthly commemoration. l have not one word to say about any astron- omer who studied the heavens from my heights or any king who was sepul- chred in my bosom. am slowly passing away. l am a dying pyramid. shall yet lie down in the dust of the plain and the sands of the desert shall cover me, or when the earth goes l will go. But you are immortal. The feet with which you climbed my sides to-day will turn to dust but you have soul that will outlast me and all my brotherhood of pyramids Live for eternity. ows of the evening now falling from my side, l pronounce upon you bene- diction. Take it with you across the Meulterranean. Iakc lS WlJh you cross the Atlantic God only is great. Let all the earth keep silent before him. Amen" And then the lips of granite hushed, and the great Giant of Ma sorry wrapped himself again in the silence of ages, and as rode away in the gathering twilight. this course of sermons was projected.
 Dr, rown-Sequard says pressing in the