Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1893-07-15

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The text shall also find fulfillment In
the time of old age. 1t lisa grand thing
to be young-to have the sight clear
and the hearing acute, and the steT
elastic, and all our pulses marching on
to the drumming of n stout heart Mid
life and old age will be denied many OF
us, but youth-we all know what that
on your brow. That snow was not nj
ways on your head. That brawny
muscle did not always bunch your arm.
You have not always worn spectacles.
Grave and dignified as you now are,
you once went coasting down the hill
side, or threw off your hat for the
race, or sent the ball flying slsyhigh.
But youth will not always last. 1t
stays only long enough to give us ex-
uberant spirits, and broad shoulders
for burden-carrying, and an arm with
which to battle our way through diff
culties. Life's path, If you follow it
long enough, will come under frown-
ing crag and across trembling cause
way. Blessed old age, if you let 1t
come naturally. You cannot hide it.
You may try to cover the wrinkles, but
YOU cannot cover the wrinkles. IL the
time has come for You to be old, be not
ashamed to be old. The grandest
things in all the universe are old. Old
mountains, old rivers, old seas, old
stars and old eternity. Then do not be
ashamed to be old, unless YOU are older
than the mountains and older than the
stars.
See that you do honor to the aged.
Smooth the way for that mothers feet;
they have not many more steps to take.
Steady those tottering limbs; they will
soon be at rest. Plow not up that face
with any more wrinkles: trouble and
care have marked it full enough.
Thrust no thorn into that old heart; it
will soon cease to beat. THE eye that
moclieth its father, and refuscth to
obey its mother. the ravens of the val
ley shall pick it out and the young
eagles shall eat it." The bright morn
ing and the hot MONDAY of life
have passed with many. 1t is 1 o'clock!
5 o'clock. q o'clock. The shad-
ows 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 dcws
are falling: the activities of life's day
are all hushed; it is time to go to bed.
Eleven o'clock. twelve o'clock! The
patriarch sleeps the blessed sleep, the
good sleep. the long sleep. Heavens
messengers of light have kindled bon
fires of victory all over the heavens At
eventide it is light! Light.
My text shall also find fultillment in
the latter days of the church. Only Il
few missionaries, few churches. few
good men. compared with the institu-
tions leprous and putretied.
1t is early yet in the history of every
thing good. Civilization and Chris
tianity are just getting out of the
cradle The light of ANNIVERSARIES.
flashing all 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 clang-
ing back in the scabbard; intemper-
ance, buried under ten Thousand broken
decanters; the worlds impurity, turn
ing its brow heavenward for the benc-
diction, blessed are the pure in hearts"
the last vestige of selfishness sub
merged in Notwithstanding charities;
all China worshiping DIR. Abeel's Sa-
viour: all India believing in Henry
Martyrs Bible; aboriginal superstition
David Brainerd's piety:
human bondage delivered through
Thomas Clarllson's Christianity, vag-
rancy coming back from its pollution
at the call of Elizabeth Fry's Redeemer:
the mountains coming down; the val
leys going up; holiness" inscribed on
horses bell, and silkworm's thread and
brown thrasher's wing, and shells
tinge, and manufacturers shuttle, and
laboratory, and kings scep-
ter and nations magma charta. Not n
hospital, for there are no wounds: not |
an asylum, for there are no orphans; |
not prison, for there are no criminals; |
not an alms-house, for there are no
paupers; not tear, for there are no |
sorrows. The long dirge of earth's |
has ended in the triumphal
march of redeemed empires, the forests |
it on vine-strung branches, the |
water chanting it among the gorges,
the thunders drumming it among the |
hills, the ocean giving it forth with its
organs, trade winds touching the keys |
and Euroclydon's foot on the pedal.
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; want
to see John Huss when the last fame OF
has been extinguished;
want IN see John Runvan after the last |