The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1893-01-05

the lowIy, the humble. the manned,
are given the best and highest seats
and are always welcomed with a
hearty handshake Or pleasant smile.
Much wealth is represented in the
Moravian congregation, but there is
no distinction between rich and poor.
In life they all fare alike in
spiritual ministTationS and in
death they are all buried under
the same unpretentious marble
slabs that ever CLEAN in the green old
Cemetery like patches of eternal
SNOW. a holy stiffness, a cOnsecrated
hush prevailed. Hundreds of noble
aspirations. Of high aims, of new rcso-
lutiOnS, Of pure desires. were born in
the hundreds of silent hearts there
hearts, some Of which had bled from
the thorn-pricks Of fluctuations many
years gone by: others still undquaint-
ed with grief and thrObbing with the
innocence and hopefulness Of child
hood or youth. Even those who had
come merely from idle curiosity seem
ed to catch the reflection Of purity
that shone forth, as lights, from the
chastened and happy faces around,
and look with worthy envy on the
sight.
The great organ pealed forth as the
ancient clock, that a hundred years
past had rung out in the same way on
Just such occasions. sounded the half
hour past II, and the soul Of the great
congregation seemed borne upward.
heaFenWard on pinionS OF sacred har-
mony, rs the choir sang HOLY, Holy,
Lord God Almighty" from Mozart,
the Bishop introduced the Rev. j. II.
McCuiSton, who occupied the first
part of the last half hour of 1892 with
an appeal for increased devotion and
spirituality during the coming year
The speaker was in earnest and the
sOIemnity Of the occasion seemed to
increase as the minutes sped by.
The burden of the discourse was
that even in the few moments left
before the old year closed the soul OF
the sinner might be saved. AS he
spoke with his watch in his hand
three strokes from the old clock in the
belfry indicating three quarters gone,
told that there were - minutes left
of 1892, and the circumstance added
inexpressable imprcSsiveness to the
minister's earnest pleadings.
The Bishop followed with further
invitation and words of wisdom He
said that was only necessary fer all to
put their hands in the great. strong.
pierced hand of Christ and He would
lead them safely through the coming
year, keeping them from stumbling in
the steep and stony paths and keep
ing them from StFaying in the valleys
and level ways. OF course there were
no OutStretched hands from the as
sembled multitude. but moved by the
Spirit inspired words of the speaker
one fdncied that he could see about
him the outStretched hands of long
ing souls reaching upward until a low
ing hand, broad and ample enough to
take them all in His reached down and
grasped them.
Just as the last words of the Bishop
were spoken and the Old, sleeplesS,
neycr-tiring clock was beginning to
yibrate and throb with the effort Of
striking twelve: just as it was draw
ing Il long breath, so to speak. before
it announced to the world that 1892
was dead, the orchestra in the choir
burst forth in triumphant chorus,
and the chOiriSterS sang the 3y6 hymn
in the Morayian hymn book.
The old year, during the solemn eX-
hortation, had peacefully passed away,
with all its joys and sorrows, its
births and deaths, its blessings and
curses, its health and disease, its
dancing and mourning. its hopes and
fears; and from its grave a new year
had sprung up amid triumphant out
bursts of song and praise, inspiring
hope in every heart and desire for fu-
ture usefulness.
The Bishop pronounced the bene-
dictiOn, the people scattered to their
homes, the old clock in ghOSGly preach
ment told the early morning hours
and Nature, wrapping herself in the
Grape of the clouds, wept for many
hours over the newly made grave in
the Cemetery of Time, until fearful
lest the little new year might deSpOnd,
she let south wind come and dry her
tears.