The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1893-09-15
Of spiders eye as he is in the coufor'
nation of flaming galaxies

Of spiders eye as he is In the confor.
nation of flaming galaxies-
Plato had fable which have now
nearly forgotten, but it ran something
like this: He said spirits of the other
world came back to this world to find
a body and find a sphere of work. One
spirit came and took the body of
king, and did his work. Another spirit
came and took the body of poet and
did his work. After awhile Ulysses
came, and he said: "Why. all the fine
bodies are taken, and all the grand
work is taken. There is nothing left
for me-" And some one replied: "Ahl
the best oIe has been left for YOU"
Ulysses said: whats that?" And the
reply was: 1.-THE body Of a common
man, doing a common work, and for a
common reward" A good fable for
the world. and just as good fable for
the Church.
But remark again: We ought to
bring the religion of Jesus Christ into
our ordinary blessings. Every autumn
the president of the United States and
the governors make proclamation, and
we are called together in our churches
to give thanks to God for his goodness.
But every day ought to be thanks
giving day. We take most of the
blessings of life as matter of course.
We have had 10000 blessings this MORN
ing. Before the night comes we will
have thousand more blessings you
will never think of mentioning before
God.
We must see blind man led along
by bis dog before we learn what a
grand thing it is to have ones eye
siglt. We must see a man with St
Vitus' dance before we learn what a
grand thing it is to have the use of our
physical energies. We must see some
soldier crippled, limping along on his
crutch, or his empty coat sleeve pinned
up, before we learn what a grand thing
it is to have the use of all our physical
faculties. In other words, we are SO
stupid that nothing but the misfort-
unes of others can wake us up to an
appreciation of our common blessings.
We get on board train and start for
Boston, and come to Norwalk bridge,
and the draw" is off, and crash! goes
the train. Fifty lives dashed out. We
escape We come home in great ex-
element, and call our friends around
uH, and they congratulate us; and we
all kneel down and thank God far our
escape while so many persisted. But
tomorrow morning you get on a train
Of cars for Boston. You cross that
bridge at Norwalk. You cross all the
other bridges. You get to Boston in
safety. Then you return home. Not
an accident, not an alarm. No thanks.
in other words, you seem to be more
grateful when fifty people lose their
lives and you get off, than you are
grateful to God when you all get off,
and you have no alarm at all Now
you ought to be thankful when you
escape from accident, but more thank
full when they all escape. In the one
case your gratitude is somewhat selfish;
in the other it is more like what it
ought to be.
OH these common mercies, these
common blessings, how little we APP
preciate them and how soon we forget
them! Like the OK grazing, with the
clover up to his eyes; like the bird pick
ing the worm out of the furrow-never
thinking to thank God who makes the
grass grow, and who gives life to every
living thing, from the animalcula in
the sod to the seraph on the throne.
Thanksgiving on the 27th of November
in the autumn of the year; but bless,
ings, hour by hour and day by day, and
no thanks at all. / compared our in
difference to the brute, but perhaps
wronged the brute. l do not
know but that, among its other
instincts, it may have an instinct by
which it recognizes the divine hand
that feeds it. l do not know but that
God is, through it, holding communities
ton with what we call Irrational crea-
ton" The cow that stands under the
willow by the water-course, chewing
its cud, looks very thankful; and who
can tell how much bird means by its
song? The aroma of the flowers smells
like incense, and the mist arising from
the river looks like the smoke of a
morning sacrifice. Oh, that we were as
responsive!
If you were thirsty and asked me for
drink, and gave you this glass of
water, your common instinct would re-
ply, thank YOU" And yet, how many
chalices of mercy we get hour by hour
from the hand of the Lord, our Father
and our King, and we do not even
think to say, ''thank you" Moro
Just to men than we are just to God.
Who thinks of thanking God for the
water gushing up in the well. foaming
in the cascade, laughing over the rocks,
pattering in the shower, clapping its
hands in the sea? Who thinks to thank
God for that? Who thinks to thank
God for the air, the fountain of life,
the bridge of sunbeams, the path OF
sound, the great fan on hot summer
day? Who thinks to thank God for
this wonderful physical organism, this
sweep of vision, this chime of harmony
struck into the ear, this crimson tide
rolling through arteries and veins, this
drumming of the heart on the march
of immortality?
l convict myself, and convict every
one of you, while l say these things,
that we are unappreciative of the COM
mon mercies of life. And yet if they
were withdrawn the heavens would
withhold their rain, and the earth
would crack open under our feet, and
famine and desolation and sickness and
woe would stalk across the earth, and
the whole earth would become place
of skulls.
Oh, my friends! Let US wake up to
an appreciation of the common mercies
of life. Let every day be Sabbath,
every meal sacrament, every room a
holy of holies. We all have burdens to
bear: let us cheerfully bear them. We