The Portland daily press., 1893-07-17


bunch your arm. You have not ALWAYS
worn spectacles Grave and dignifed as
you now are, you once went coasting
down the hillside, or threw off your hat
for the race, or sent the ball flying sky
high.
But youth will not always last. 1t
stays only long enough to give us exu-
berant spirits, and broad shoulders for
burden carrying, and an arm with which
to battle our way through difficulties.
Life's path if you follow it long enough
will come under frowning crag and
across trembling causeway. Blessed old
age if you let it come naturally. You
cannot hide it. You may try to cover
the wrinkles, but you csnnot cover the
wrinkles. If the time has come for You
to be old, be not ashamed to DO old. The
grandest things in all the universe are
old. Old mountains, old rivers, old
seas, old stars and an old eternity. Then
do not be ashamed to be old unless you
are older than the mountains and older
than the stars.
How men and women will liei They
say they are 40, but they are 60. They
say they are 20, but they are 80. They
say they are so, but they are 80. How
some people will ie Glorious old age
if found in the way of ighteousnesss
How beautiful the old age of Jacob, lean
ing on the top Of his staff, of John Quin-
cy Adams falling with the harness on,
of Washington Irving sitting pen in
hand amid the scenes himself had made
classical, Of John Angel James to the
last proclaiming the gospel to the masses
of Birmingham, of Theodore Freling-
huysen down to feebleness and emacia-
ton devoting his illustrious faculties to
the kingdom Of God. At eventide it was
light
Sec that you do honor to the aged. A
philosopher stood at the corner Of the
street day after day saying to the pass
ersby: "You will DO an old man. You
will be an old man." "You will be an
old woman. You will be an old woman"
People thought he was crazy. I do not
think that he was Smooth the way for
that mothers feet-they have not many
more steps to take. Steady those totter-
ing imbs-they viii soon be at rest.
Plow not up that face with any more
wrinkles. Trouble and care have marked
1t full enough. Thrust no thorn into
that old heart. It will soon cease to
beat. sThe eye that mocketh its father
and refuseth to obey its mother, the
ravens of thevalley shall pick it out, and
the young eagles shall eat it."
The bright morning and hot MONDAY
of life have passed with many. It Is
4 o'clock! o'clock o'clock! The
shadows fall longer and thicker and
faster. Seven o'clock 8 o'clock! 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. It is time to go to bed.
Eleven o'clock! 10 o'clockl 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-lighti
My text shall also find fulfillment In
the latter days of the church. Only
few missionaries, few churches, few
good men, compared with the institu-
tons leprous and putrefed.
It is early yet in the history of every
thing good, Civilization and Christian
ity are just getting out of the cradle.
The light Of martyr stakes 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 changing back in the scabbard;
intemperance buried under 10, 900 broken
decanters; the worlds impurity turn
ing it's brow heavenward for the bene-
diction, BLESSED are the pure in heart;"
the last vestige Of selfshness submerged
in heaven descending charities; all
China worshiping DIR. Abeeps Say
Jour; all India believing in Henry
Martyrs Bible; aboriginal superstition
acknowledging David Brainerd's piety;
human bondage delivered through Thorn
as Clarksons Christianity; vagrancy
coming back from it's pollution at the
call of Elizabeth Fry's Redeemer; the
mountains coming down; the valleys GO
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 a 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
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 it's 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