The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-06-05

somewhere FAR above. not knowing that
the mountain of fame has "a top Ike Mont
Blanc. covered with perpetual snow.
We laugh at the children Of Shinar for
TRYING Go build a tower that could reach
O. the heavens, but Think If our eycSiVht
were only good enough We could see "a
Babel In many door yard O the strue-
gle is terccl To Is store against store
house against house, street against street,
nation against nation. The goal Tor which
men are running is chairs and chaudei-
iers, and mirrors. and houses, and lands.
and presidential equipments. II theN GEL
what they anticipate what have they got
Men are not safe from calumuN while
they live and worse than that, they are
not safe after they are dead, for have
seen swine root up Eraveyards. one day
a man goes up into publicity and the world
does him honor, and people climb up INTO
sycamore trees to watch himaS ne passes,
aud as he goes along on the shoulders OF
the people there isa waving of hats and
a wild huZza Tomorrow the same man
is caught between the jaws of the print
ING press and mangled and bruised, and
the very same persons who applauded him
before cry. Down with the traitor
down with him ~
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
gardens floats in on the night air; the
voice of revelry floats out. Amidst
wreaths, and tapestry, and folded ban
ners, a finger writes. The march of
host is heard on the stairs Laughter
catches in the throat A thousand hearts
stop beating. The blow is struck. The
blood on the floor is richer-hued than the
wine on the table, The kingdom has de
parted Belshazzar was no worse, per-
haps, than hundreds of people in Babylon,
but his position slew him. O, be content
with just such a position as God has
placed you in. 1t may not be said of us,
"He was a great general, ~ or He was an
hOnOred chieftain,n or He was mighty
in worldly attainments ~ but this thing
may be said of you and me, "He was a
good citizen faithful Christian, a friend
of Jesus" And that in the last day will
be the highest of all eulogiums.
l learn further from this subject that
death comes to the summer house Eglon
did not expect to die in that fine place.
Amidst all the tlOwer-leaves that drifted
like summer snow into the window; in
the tinkle and the dash of the fountains;
in the sound of a thousand leaves flutter-
ing on one tree branch; in the cool breeze
that came up to shake feverish trouble
out of the kings locks-there was moth
liz NAldb olluhE VI utdll. Dub lItIt ne
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 agreeable,
how difficult il is for us to appreciate
the truth that we are mortal And yet
my text teaches that death does some
times come to the summer houses. He is
blind and cannot see the leaves. He is
deaf and cannot hear the fountains O,
If death would ask US for victims, we
would point to hundreds of people who
would rejoice to have him come Push
back the door of that howell Look at
that little child-cold, and sick, and
hungry 1t has never heard the name of
God but it blasphemy. Parents intoxi-
Gated, staggering around it's straw bed
o, death, there is a mark for theel Up
with it into the light Before these little
feet stumble on lifes pathway, give them
rest
Here is an aged man. He has done his
work. He has done it gloriously. The
companions of his youth are 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"
Q, death, there is mark for thee! Take
from him the staff and give him the scep-
ter, 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. amidst this waving grass, and
under this sunlight sitting through the
tree branches Children are at play.
How quickly their feet go and their locks
toss in the wind. Father and mother
stand at the side of the room looking on,
enjoying their glee. 1t does not seem pos
sible that the wolf should ever break into
that fold and carry off a lamb Mean
while an old archer stands looking
through the thicket. He points his ar
row at the brightest of the group-he is
a sure understandable bow bends, the ar
row speeds Hush, now Thequick feet
have stopped, and the locks toss no more
IN the wind. Laughter has gone out of
the hall Death in the summer house.
Here is father in mid-life: 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 hours
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"
Inc scene changes, Father is sick The
doors must be shut. The death-watch
chirps dOlefully on the hearth. The chill
dren whisper, and walk softly where
once they romped. Passing the house
late at night, you see the quick glanc-
ing of lights from room to room It is
all over. Death in the summer housed
Here is an aged mOther-aged, but not
intrm. You think you will have the ioy
OF caring for her wants good while yet
As she goes from house to house, to chill
dren and grandchildren, her coming is a
dropping of sunlight in the dwelling.
Your children see her coming through
the lane, and they cry, "Grandmother's
GOMEZ Care for you has marked up her
lace with many deep wrinkle and her
back stoops with carrying your burdens.
Some day she is very quiet. She saws
she is not sick, but something tells YOU
you will not much longer have mother.
She will sit with you no more at the
table, nor at the hearth. Her soul goes
out SO gently you do not exactly know
the moment of its going. Fold the hands
THAT have done SO many kindnesses for
you right over the heart that has been
with love toward you since before YOU
were born Let the pilgrim rest She is
weary Death in the summer house!
Gather about US what we will of com
fort and luxury, when the pale messenger
comes he does not stop to look at the