Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1892-11-28

man the blessing of blessings. 1t is
moving out of cold vestibule into
warm temple. 1t is migrating into
groves of redolence and perpetual fruit
age. 1t is a change from bleak March
to roseate June. 1t is a change of man
acles for garlands. It is the transmit
ing of the iron handouts of earthly in
generation into the diamonded wristlets
of bridal party, or, to use the sugges-
ton of my text, it is only husking time.
It is the tearing off of the rough sheath
of the body that the bright and the bead
tiful soul may go free. Coming in stlike
a shock of corn cometh in in his sea-
son. Christ broke up a funeral pro-
cession at the gate of Main by making
resurrection day for a young man and
his mother, and [ would that l could
break up your sadnesses and halt the
long funeral procession of the worlds
grief by some cheering and cheerful
view of the last transition.
We all know that husking time was a
time Of frost Frost on the fence; frost
on the stubble; frost on the ground; frost
on the bare branches of the trees; frost
in the air; frost on the hands of the
huskers You remember we used to
hide between the corn stacks so as to
keep off the wind, but still you remem-
Der how shivering was the body, and
how painful was the cheek, and how
benumbed were the hands. But after
awhile the sun was high up, and all the
frosts went out of the air, and hilarities
awakened the echoes, and JOY from one
corn shock went up, ''Aha, aha!' and
Nv
shock, 'sAha, ahar'
So we all realize that the death of our
friend is the nipping of many expecta-
tons, the freezing, the chilling, the
frosting of many of our hopes. It is far
from being q south wind. It comes out
of the frigid north, and when they go
away from US we stand benumbed in
BODY and benumbed in mind, and be-
numbed IN soul. We stand among our
dead neighbors, our dead families, and
we say. ''Will we ever get over it?'
Yes, we will get over it amid the shout
ings of heavenly reunion, and we will
look back to all these distresses of be-
reavement only as the temporary dis
tresses of huslzing time. '.Weeping may
endure for night, but joy cometh in
the morning" ''Light, and but for q
moment said the apostle as he clapped
his hands eight, and but for a mo-
ment" The chill of the frosts followed
by the gladness that cometh in like q
shock of corn cometh in in his season.
OFF WITH THIS HUSK OF FLESH!
Of course the huslzing time made
rough work with the ear of corn. The
husking peg had to be thrust in, and the
hard thumb of the huslzer had to come
down on the swathing of the ear, and
then there was pull, and there was
ruthless tearing, and then a complete
swapping off before the corn was free,
and if the husk could have spoken it
would have said: ''Why do you lacerate
me? Why do you wrench me?" All,
my friends, that is the way God has ar
ranged that the ear and husk shall part,
and that is the way he has arranged that
the body and the soul shall separate
You can afford to have your physical
distresses when you know that they are
only forwarding the souls liberation.
Every rheumatic pain is only plunge
of the husking peg. Every neuralgia
twinge is only a twist by the husker.
There is gold in you that must come out.
Some way the shackle must be broken.
Some way the ship must be launched
for heavenly voyage. You must let
the Heavenly Husbandman husk off
the mortality from the Immortality.
There ought to be great consolation in
this for all who have chronic ailments,
since the Lord is gradually and more
mildly taking away from you that which
binders your souls liberation, doing
gradually for you what for many Of us
in robust health perhaps he will do i'll
one fell blow at the last. At the close
of every illness, at the close of every
paroxysm, you ought to say, ''Thank
God, that is all past now; thank God.
will never have to suffer that again;
thank God, am so much nearer the
hour of liberation"
You will never suffer the same pain
twice. You may have new pain in an
old place, but never the same pain twice
The pain does its work, and then it dies
Just so many plunges of the crowbar to
free the quarry stone for the building
Just SO many strokes of the chisel to
complete the statue. Just so many
pangs to separate the soul from the body.
You who have chronic ailments and dis
orders are only paying in installments
that which some Of us will have to pay
in one payment when we pay the debt
of nature. Thank God, therefore. We
who have chronic disorders, that you
have so much less suffering at the last
Thank God that you will have SO much
less to feel in the way of pain at the
hands of the Heavenly Husbandman
when s'the shock of corn cometh in in
his season.
Perhaps now this may be an answer
to question which I asked one Sabbath
morning, but did not answer, Why is it
that so many really good people have so
dreadfully to suffer? You often find
good man with enough pains and aches