The Penn's Grove record., 1893-06-30

IT something that VIII help that boy thirty
years from now to bear up under tho
hombardment o. temptation. Better hayein
it something that will help that daughter
thirty years from now when IDOL her come
the cares OF motherhood and the agonies OF
bereavement and the brutal treatment of one
who sSore before high heaven that he would
cherishand protect.
These family songs are about all We keep
OF the old homestead. The house where YOU
were born VIII go into the hands ofstrangers.
The garments that were carefully kept as
relics will become moth eaten. The family
Bible ecu 81 into the possession OF only one
OF the family. The lock OF gray hair mny be
lost rom the locket, and In q few years all
signs and momentoes OF the old homestead
will De gone forever. But the family songs,
those that w heard at two years of age, at
five years OF age, at ten years o.. G'-e. will be
indestructible and at forty or fifty o. 5 Xty or
seventy years ofage will give us n mighty
boost over some rough place in the path OF
cur pilgrimage.
Many years ago Il group of white children
We're captured and carried OF by the Indians.
Years after, a mother who had lost two chill
dren in that capture, went among the Indi-
ans, and there were many white children in
line, but so long a time had passed the moth
er could not tell which were hers until she
began to sing the old nursery SOM, and her
tN' "a ALiiuatbliltll IuSutu uD, shout
ing Mammal "Mamma - Yes, there is
an immortality in q nursery song. Hear it,
all you mothers, an immortality OF power to
rescue and save.
What an occasion that must have been in
VI Washington December II, 1870, when Jennie
Lind sang Home. Sweet Home" the author
OF those worGs, John Howard Payne, seated
before her. She had rendered her other fa.
vorite songs: "Casta Diva" and her Flute
Song, with fna effect, but when she struck
"Home, Sweet Home" John Howard Payne
rose under the power, and President Fillmore
and Henry Clay and Daniel Webster and the
whole audience rose with him. AnythIp.'
connected with homo ransacks our entire
nature with a holy power, and songs thSt
get well started in the nursery or by tbs
family hearth roll on after the lips that sung
them are forever silent and the ears that first
heard them forever cease to hear. sssrbptha
Be careful how you treat the birds. / Te1
member they are God favorites, and II You
offend them you offend Him. Heis SO fond OF
their voices that there are forests where fog O
hundred miles no human foot has ever trod
and no human ear has ever listened. assSaess
Put OFF startling colors, which Brighten the
winged songster5 into silence or flight, and
put on your more sober attire and moys
noiselessly into the woods farther and far4
ther from the main road and have no convers
sation, for many a concert in and out ofdoorS
has been ruined by persistent takers, and
then sit down q messy bank AaS1
Where a wild stream with heallong shoe.
Comes Drawing down o bed OF rock. XII
And after perharsa half IN hour of intense
solitude there will ba a tap of a beak on q
tree branch far up, sounding like the tap ola
musical baton, and then first there will be
solo, followed by q duet or quartet, and after
ward by doxologies In all the tres tops and
amid all the branches, and il you have O
Bible along with you and you can without
rustling the leaves, turn to the one huns
dred md ~forty-eighth Psalm Of David and
read, praise the Lord, beasts and all cattle,
creeping things and flying fowl" and then
turn over quietly to my text and read, "By
them shall the fowls OF the heaven have
their habitation, which sing among the
branches" drill under the power Of the bird
voices you are transported, as when Doctor
Morgan played so powerfully on the organ at
st. Johns that Richard Cecil said he was In
such bless ID bewilderm ent he could not find in
his Bible the first chapter Of Isaiah, though
be leafed the book over and over, and you
shGll be SO overcome with forest harmony
that you cannot find the Psalms OF David,
never mind, for God will speak to you SO
nightly 1t will make no difference whether
you hear His voice from the printed page or
the vibrating throat OF Il OF Ills plumed
| creatures. =
While this summer more thnn usual out OF
doors let us have what my text suggests, aa
out Of doors religion. What business had
David, with all the advantages Of costly relig-
ious service and smoking incense on the oil.
tar, to be listening to the chantresses among
the tree branches? All he wanted to make
himself and all who should come after him
moro alert and moro worshipful amid tae
sweet sounds and beautiful sights Jot
the natural world. There is an Did church
that needs to be rededicated. IT ls older than
st, Paul's or st. Peters or st. Marks or st.
/ EOphin'a mr. ST Isnnc'l IT ia tho cathedral ut
nature. That Is the church in which the SER
| vices of the millennium will be held. The
buildings fashioned out of stone. and brick
and mortar will not hold the people.
Again the mount OF Olives will DO the
pulpit. Again the Jordan will be the
baptistry. Again tho mountains will be
the galleries. Again the skies will be
the blue ceiling. Again tho sunrise will
be the front door and the sunset the back
door OF that temple. Again the
clouds will he the upholstery and the
morning mist the incense. Again tho
.the fowls OF heaven lave their hab3
itatlon, which sing among the
branches." st. Francis d'Assisi preached q
| sermon to birds and pronounced q benedic-
ton upon them, but all birds preach to US,
and their benediction is almost supernal.
In the time If Edward " no one was
allowed to own n swan except he were q
NINA 9ESA "a SAkttI ~ pllHi
100 or 200 years OF life that bird was said
never TO utter anything like music until its
last moment came, Eaj then lifting its
crested beauty it would pour forth O
song of almost matchless thrill re.
sounding through the groves. And
SO, although the struggles OF life may be
too much for US and we may find 1t hard to
sing at all, when the last hour comes to you
and me, may there be a radiance from above
and a glory settling round that shall enable
US to utter a song on the Lings of which wa
shall monnt to where the music never ceases
and the raptures never die, -
"wha. IS that, ~n,othrr7' 1.-THE swan, my ,ovci
He Is floating down from his native grove.
No loved one, no nesting nigh
He Is floating dowR by himself to die.
Death darkens his eve and unplumes his Nin9A
Yet the sweetest song Is the last rs sings.
Live so, my child, that when death shall come,
STanlike and sweet, 1t may wait thee homer