News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1893-07-13

and refuseth to obey it's mother, the
ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and
| the young eagles shall eat it."
The bright morning and hot MONDAY
of life have passed with many. 1t is
A o'clock! o'clock! o'clockl The
shadows fall longer and thicker and
faster. Seven o'clock! o'clockl The
sun has dipped below the horizon. The
warmth has gone out of the air. Nine
o'clock! 10 o'clock! The heavy dews are
falling. The activities of life's day are
all hushed. 1t is time to go to bed.
Eleven o'clock! 10 o'clock! The patri-
arch sleeps the blessed sleep, the cool
sleep, the long sleep. Heavens messen-
gers of light have kindled bonfres of
victory all over the heavens. AT even
time it is light-light!
Ny text shall also find fulfillment in
the latter days of the church. Only a
few missionaries, few churches, few
good men, compared with the institu-
lions leprous and putrefed.
1t is early yet in the history of every
| thing good. Civilization and Christian
ity are just getting out of the cradle.
up and down the sky is but the flaming
of the morning, but when the evening of
the world shall come, glory to Gods
conquering truth, it shall be light. Wars
sword changing back in the scabbard;
intemperance buried under 10, 900 broken
| decanters; the worlds impurity turn
| ing its brow heavenwarG for the bene-
| diction, BLESSED are the pure in heart;'
the last vestige of selfishness submerged
in heaven descending charities; all
China worshiping DR.. Abeels Saw
Jour; all India believing in Henry
Martyrs Bible; aboriginal superstition
acknowledging David Brainerd's piety;
human bondage delivered through Thorn
as Clarkson's Christianity; vagrancy
coming back from it's pollution at the
call of Elizabeth Fry's Redeemer; the
mountains coming down; the valleys 60
ing up; "holiness" inscribed on horses
bell and silkworm's thread and brown
thrasher's wing and shells tinge and
manufacturers shuttle and chemists
laboratory and kings scepter and ma
tons Magma Charta. Not hospital,
for there are no wounds; not an asylum,
for there are no orphans; not a prison,
for there are no criminals; not an aims
house, for there are no paupers; not a
tear, for there are no sorrows? The long
dirge of earth's lamentation has ended
in the triumphal march of redeemed en-
pires, the forests harping it on vine
strung branches, the water chanting it
among the gorges, the thunders drum
ming it among the hills, the ocean Civ
ing it forth with its organs, trade winds
touching the keys and euroclydon's foot
on the pedal
l want to see John Howard when the
last prisoner is reformed. want to see
Florence Nightingale when the last saber
wound has stopped hurting. want to
see William Penn when the last Indian
has been civilized. l want to see John
Huss when the last flame of persecution
has been extinguished. l want to see
John Bunyan after the last pilgrim has
come to the gate of the Celestial City.
Above all, want to see Jesus after the
last saint has his throne and begun to
sing halleluiah!
You have watched the calmness and
the glory of the evening hour. The la
borers have come from the field. The
heavens are glowing with an indescri.
able efulgence, as though the sun in de-
parting had forgotten to shut the gate
after it. All the beauty of cloud and
leaf swims in the lake. For star in the
sky, star in the water-heaven above
and heaven beneath. Not leaf rus
Ting, or bee humming, or a grasshopper
chirping. Silence in the meadows. ST.
lence among the hills.
Thus bright and beautiful shall be
the evening of the world. The heats
of earthly conflict are cooled. The glory
of heaven ills all the scene with love
and joy and peace. At eventime it is
Gght-ight!
Finally, my text shall find fulfllment
at the end of the Christians life. YOu
know how short winters day is, and
how little work you can do. Now, my
friends, life is a short winters day. The
angel and death angel fly only a little
way apart. Baptism and burial are
near together. With one hand the
mother rocks the cradle, and with the
other she touches the grave.
l went into the house of one of my
parishioners on Thanksgiving day. The
little child of the household was bright
and glad, and with it / bounded up and
down the hall. Christmas day came, and
the light of that household had persisted.
We stood, with black book, reading over
the grave, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust"
But l hurl away this darkness. l can
not have you weep. thanks be unto
God, who giveth us the victory, at even
time it shall be light l have seen many
Christians die. never saw any of them
die in darkness. What if the pillows of
death do rise above our girdle, who does
not love to battle? What though other
lights do go out in the blast, what do we
want of them when all the gates of glo-
ry swing open before US, and from a
myriad voices, myriad harps, a myriad
thrones, a myriad palaces. there dash
upon US, "Hosannal Hosanna!"
Throw back the shutters and let the
sun come in" said dying Scoville McCol-
lum, one of my Sabbath school boys.
You can see Paul putting on robes and
wings of ascension as he exclaims: 81
ished my course. l have kept the faith"
Hugh McKail went to one side of the
scaffold of martyrdom and cried: Fare
well sun, moon and starsl Farewell all
earthly delightsr' Then went to the
other side of the scaffold and cried:
Welcome, God and Father! Welcome,
sweet Jesus Christ, the Mediator of the
covenant! Welcome death! Welcome
gloryw
A minister of Christ in Philadelphia,
dying, said in his last moments, 81
move into the lightP' They did not go
down doubling and fearing and SILVER
ing, but their battlecry rang through
all the caverns of the sepulcher and was
echoed back from all the thrones of
heaven: 80 death! where is thy sting!
o grave! where is thy victory" Sing,
my soul, of joys to come.
saw beautiful being wandering up
and down the earth. She touched the
aged, and they became young. She
touched the poor, and they became rich
Isaid, 'Who is this beautiful being, wan
dering up and down the earthT' They
told me that her name was Death. What
strange thrill of joy when the palsied
Christian begins to use his arm again!
When the blind Christian begins to see
again! When the deaf Christian begins
to hear again! When the poor pilgrim
puts his feet on such pavement and joins
in such company and has free seat in
such great temple
Hungry men no more to hunger; thirsty
men no more to thirst; weeping men no
more to weep; dying men no more to
die. Gather up all sweet words, all iu-
-.