The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1891-03-20


chant and the mountain shall have come
down In nm avalanche OF rock, you will
live and think and act, high ON throne
where seraphs sing, or deep In dungeon
where demons howl. In world whore
there Ii so much to do for yourselves, and
SO much to do for others, God pity that
man who has nothing to do.
Your sports are merely means to an end.
They are alleviations and helps The arm
of toll Is the only arm strong enough TO
bring up the bucket out of the deep we'll Of
pleasure. Amusement IL only the bower
where business and philanthropy rest while
on their way to stirring achievements.
ADJUSTMENTS are merely the vines that grow
about the anvil of toll and the blOssoming of
the hammers. Alas for the man who spends
his life in laboriously doing nothing, his
days in hunting up lounging places and
loungers, his nights in seeking out some
gas lighted foolery! The man who always
has on his sporting jacket, ready to hunt
for game in the mountain or fish in the
brook, with no time to pray or work or
read, is not SO we'll off as the greyhound
that runs by his side, or the fly bait with
which he whips the stream.
A man who does not work does notknow
how to play. If God had intended us to
do nothing but laugh he would not have
given us shoulders with which to lift and
hands with which to work, and brains with
which to think. The amusements of life
are merely the orchestra playing while the
great tragedy Of life plunges through its
five ts-infancy, childhood, manhood, old
age and death. Then exit the last earthly
opportunity. Enter the overwhelming real
tiles Of an eternal world!
T go further, and say that all those
amusements are wrong which lead into
bad company If you go to any place
where you have to associate with the in
temperate, with the unclean, with the
abandoned, however well they may be
dressed, in the name OF God quit it, They
will despoil your nature. They will un-
dermine your moral character. They will
drop you when you are destroyed. They
will give not one cent to support your chill
dren when you are dead. They will weep
not one tear at your burial. They will
chuckle over your damnation.
had friend at the west-a rare friend.
He was one of the first to welcome me to
my new home. To fine personal appear
ance he added a generosity, frankness and
ardor of nature that made me love him
like a brother. But saw evil people gath
erng around him. They came up from
the saloons, from the gambling hells.
They piled him with thousand arts.
They seized upon his social nature, and he
could not stand the charm. They drove
him on the rocks, like a ship full winged,
shivering on the breakers. used to ad
monish him. I would say, snow I wish
you would quit these bad habits and be-
come Christian" "Oh," he would reply,
~ would like to, l would like to, but I
have gone so far don't think there is any
way back" In his moments of repentance
he would 60 home and take his little girl
and cover her with adornments, and strew
around her pictures and toys and every
thing that could make her happy; and
then, as though bounded by an evil spirit,
he would go out to the enflaming cup and
the house of shame, like fool to the cor
rection of the stocks.
A DEATHBED SCENE.
l was summoned to his deathbed. /
fastened. entered the room. found
him, to my surprise, lying in full every day
dress on the top OF the couch. l put out
my hand. He gEasned is'4qEa1la and-
said, 'sSit down, Mr.. Talmage1 right there"
l sat down. He said: 'Last night l saw
my mother, who has been dead twenty
years, and she sat just where you sit now.
1t was no dream. l was wide awake.
There was no delusion in the matter.
saw her just as plainly as see you. Wife,
wish you would take these strings off of
me. There are strings spun all around my
body. wish you would take them off of
me-" l saw it was delirium.
"Oh," replied his wife, ''my dear, there
is nothing there, there is nothing there"
He went on, and said: "Just where you sit,
Mr.. Talmage, my mother sat. She said to
me, Henry, do wish you would do bet
ter got out of bed, put my arms around
her, and said: Mother, want to do bet
ter. l have been trying to do better.
Won't you help me to do betterS You
used to help me- No mistake about it, no
delusion. saw her-the cap, and the
apron, and the spectacles, just as she used
to look twenty years ago; but lido wish you
would take these strings away. They
annoy me so. l can hardly talk. Won't
you take them away" I knelt down and
prayed, conscious Of the fact that he did
not realize what was saying. got up.
said, "Good by; hope you will be better
SOON" He said, "Good-by, good-by."
That night his soul went to the God who
gave it. Arrangements were made for the
obsequies. Some said, "Dont bring him
in the church; he was too dissolute."
"Oh," said, "bring him. He was good
friend of mine while he was alive, and I
shall stand by him now that he is dead.
Bring him to the church."
LAST SCENE OF ALL.
As I sat in the pulpit and saw his body |
coming up through the aisle felt as if
could weep tears of blood. told the peo-
pie that day: This man had his virtues,
and good many of them. He had his
faults, and good many of them, but if
there is any man in this audience who is
without sin let him cast the first stone at |
this coffin lid" On one side the pulpit sat |
that little child, rosy, sweet faced, as beau
tiful as any little child that sat at your
table this morning, warrant you. She
looked up wistfully, not knowing the full |
sorrows of an orphan child. Oh, her coun-
tenance haunts me today like some sweet |
face looking upon us through a horrid |
dream. On the other side of the pulpit |
were the men who had destroyed him. |
There they sat, hard visaged, some of them
pale from eXhausting disease, some of |
them flushed until it seemed as if the fires |
of iniquity famed through the CHEEKS and