The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1893-06-07

shoulders of the people there is a waving
Of hats and a wild kuzza. Tomorrow the
same man is caught between the jaws of
the printing press and mangled and bruised,
and the very same persons who applauded
him before cry: Down with the traitorl
Down with himr'
BELsHAZZAR's FEAST.
Belshazzar sits at the feast the mighty
men of Babylon sitting all around him
Wit sparkles like the wine, and the wine
like the wit Music rolls up among the
chandeliers; the chandeliers fash down on
the decanters. The breath of hanging gar
dens floats in on the night air; the voice of
revelry floats out. Amid wreaths and tap
estry and folded banners a finger writes.
The march of a host is heard on the stairs.
Laughter catches in the throat. A thou
sand hearts stop beating. The blow is
struck. The blood on the floor is richer
hued than the wine on the table. The
kingdom has departed.
Belshazzar was no worse perhaps than
hundreds of people in Babylon, but his POI
sition slew him. Oh be content with 5ust
such position as God has placed you in.
II may not be said of us, HE was a great
general" or HE was an honored chief
tain" or He was mighty in worldly attain
ments," but this thing may be said of you
and me, "He was a good citizen, faithful
Christian, friend of Jesus" And that in
the last day will be the highest Of all eulo-
gums.
l learn further from this subject that
death comes TO the summer house. Eglon
did not expect TO die in that fine place.
Amid all the flower leaves that drifted like
summer snow into the window, in the tin
kle and the dash of the fountains, in the
sound of a thousand leaves futtering on
one tree branch, in the cool breeze that
came up to shake feverish trouble out Of
the kings locks-there was nothing that
spake of DEATH but there he died! In the
winter when the snow is a shrOud, and when
the wind is a dirge, it is easy to think Of
our mortality, but when the weather is
pleasant and all our surroundings are agree
able how difficult it is for us 20 appreciate
the truth that we are mOrtall And yet my
text teaches that death does sometimes
come 70 the summer house.
He is blind and cannot see the leaves. He
is deaf and cannot hear the fountains. Oh,
if death would ask Us for victims, we could
point him TO hundreds of people who would
rejoice To have him come. Push back the
door Of that hovel. Look nc that little
child-cold and sick and hungry. 1t has
never heard the name Of God but in bias
phemy. Parents intoxicated, staggering
around its straw bed Oh, Oath, thcre is
mark for theel Up with it into the light!
Before these little feet stumble on life's
pathway, give them rest.
Here is al aged man. He has done his
work He has done it gloriousIy. The
companions of his youth are all gone, his
children dead He longs TO be at rest, and
wearily the days and the nights pass. He
says, Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly"
Oh, death, there is a mark for theel Take
from him the staff and give him the scep-
teri Up with him into the light. where
eyes never grow dim and the air whitens
not through the long years of eternity.
All death will not do that. Death turns
back from the straw bed and from the aged
man ready for the skies and comes to the
summer house.
What dOest thou here, thou bOny, CHASTITY
monster, amid this waving grass and un-
der this sunlight sitting through the tree
branches? Children are at play How quick
~ their feet 20 and their locks toss in the
windl Father and mother stand at the side
OF the room looking on enjoying their glee.
II does not seem possible that the wolf
should ever break into that fold and carry
OFF a lamb. Meanwhile an old archer stands
looking through the thicket He points his
arrow at the brightest of the group. He is
a sure marksman The bow bends. the ar
row speeds, Hush, nowl The quick feet
have stopped, and the locks toss no more in
the wind. Laughter has gone out of the
hall Death in the summer housel
TIE FATHERS HOME COMING.
Here is father in midlife His coming
home at night is the signal for mirth The
children rush to the door, and there are
books on the evening stand, and the hour
pass away on glad feet. There is nothing
wanting in that home. Religion is there
and sacrifices on the altar morning and
night. You look in that household and
say: Il cannot think of anything happier
] do not really believe the world is so sad a
place as some people describe it TO be- !" The
scene changes. Father is sick. The doors
must be kept shut. The deathwatch chirps
dolefully on the hearth The children
whisper and walk softly where once they
rOmped. Passing the house late at night,
you see the quick glancing of lights from
room TO room. IL is all over. Death in the
summer housed
Here is an aged mother-aged, but not
infirm You think you will have the JOY
of caring for her wants a good while yet
As she goes from house to house, TO chill
dren and grandchildren, her coming is a
dropping of sunlight III the dwelling
Your children see her coming through the
lane, and they CRY, "GrandmOther's Gomez
Care for you has marked up her face with
many deep wrinkle, and her back stoops
with carrying your burdens. Some day
she is very quiet. She says she is not sick.
bat something tells you you will not much
longer have mother. She will sit with YOU
10 more at the table nor at the hearth.
Her soul goes out SO gently, you do not ex-
sctly know the moment of its going Fold
the hands that have done so many kind
nesses foryou right over the heart that has
beat with love toward you since before you
were born. Let the pilgrim rest. She is
weary. Death in the summer housed
Gather about US what we will of comfort
and luxury, when the pale messenger
comes, lac does not stop TO look at the archi-
lecture of the house before he comes in, nor,
entering, does he wait to examine the pic
lures we have gathered on the wall. or.
bending over your pillow, he does not stop
TO see whether there is a color in the cheek,
or gentleness in the eye, or intelligence in
the brow. But what of that? Must we
stand forever mourning among the graves
Of our dead2 MOI Not The people in
Bengal bring cages of birds to the graves
Of their dead, and then they open the cages,
and the birds go singing heavenward. So
would bring 10 the graves of your dead
all bright thoughts and congratulations
and bid them think of victory and redemp-
ton. l stamp on the bottom of the grave,
and it breaks through into the light and
the glory of heaven.
THE GATE OF TEARS.
The ancients used othink that the straits