News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1893-09-07
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Plato had a fable which l have now
nearly forgotten, but it ran something
like this: He said spirits of the other
world came back to this world to find a
body and find a sphere of work. One
spirit came and took the body of king
and did his work. Another spirit came
and took the body of a poet and did his
work. After awhile Ulysses came, and
he said: ''Why, all the fine bodies are
taken, and all the grand work is taken.
There is nothing left for me-" And some
one replied, "Ah. the best one has been
left for you" Ulysses said, "What's
that?" And the reply was, 1.-THE body
of common man, doing common
work and for a common reward" A
good fable for the world and just as
good fable for the church.
But, | remark again, we ought to
bring the religion of Jesus Christ into
our ordinary blessings. Every autumn
the president of the United States and
the governors make proclamation, and
we are called together in our churches
to give thanks to God for his goodness.
But every day ought to be a thanksgiv-
ing day. We take most of the blessings
Of life as matter of course. We have
had ten thousand blessings this morning
for which we have not thanked God.
Before the night comes we will have a
thousand more blessings you will never
think of mentioning before God.
HOW TO APPRECIATE OUR BLESSINGS.
We must see blind man led along by
his dog before we learn what grand
thing it is to have ones eyesight. We
must see man with st. Vitus' dance be-
fore we learn what grand thing it is
to have the use of our physical energies.
We must see some soldier crippled, limp
ing along on his crutch or his empty
coatsleeve pinned up, before we learn
what a grand thing it is to have the use
Of all our physical faculties. In other
words, we are so stupid that nothinglbut
the misfortunes of others can wake US
up to an appreciation of our common
blessings.
We get on board IL train and start for
Boston and come to Norwalk bridge,
and the ''draw" is off and crash! goes the
train. Fifty lives dashed out. We es-
cape. We come home in great excite
ment and call our friends around US. and
they congratulate us, and we all kneel
down and thank God for our escape
while so many persisted. But tomorrow
morning you get on train of cars for
Boston. You cross that bridge at Nor
walk; you cross all the other bridges;
you get to Boston in safety. Then you
return home Not an accident, not an
alarm. No thanks.
In other words, you seem to be more
grateful when 80 people lose their lives
and you get off than you are grateful to
God when you all get off and you have
no alarm at all. Now, you ought to be
thankful when you escape from accident,
but more thankful when they all escape.
In the one case your gratitude is some
what selfish; in the other it is more like
what it ought to be.
Oh, these common mercies, these
common blessings, how little we appre-
ciate them and how soon we forget
them! Like the OK grazing, with the
clover up to its eyes, like the bird pick
ing the worm out of the furrow-never
thinking to thank God, who makes the
grass grow and who gives life to every
living thing from the animalcule in the
sod TO the seraph on the throne. Thanks
giving ON the 27th of November, in the
autumn of the year, but blessings hour
by hour and day by day and no thanks
at all.
l compared our Indifference to the
brute, but perhaps wronged the brute.
do not know but that among its other
instinctsit may have an instinct by which
it recognizes the divine hand that feeds
it. l do not know but that God is
through it holding communication with
what we call Irrational creation.S The
COW that stands under the willow by the
water course chewing its cud looks very
thankful, and who can tell how much a
bird means by its song? The aroma of
the flowers smells like incense, and the
mist arising from the river looks like the
smoke of a morning sacrifice. Oh, that
we were as responsive!
If you were thirsty and asked me for
drink and | gave you this glass of water,
your common instinct would reply,
"Thank you" And yet, how many
chalices of mercy we get hour by hour
from the hand of the Lord, our Father
and our King, and we do not even think
to say, THANK you." More just to men
than we are just to God.
INGRATITUDE.
Who thinks of thanking God for the
water gushing up in the well, foaming
in the cascade, laughing over the rocks,
pattering in the shower, clapping its
hands in the sea? Who thinks to thank
God for that? Who thinks to thank
God for the air, the fountain of life, the
bridge of sunbeams, the path of sound,
the great fan on hot summer day?
Who thinks to thank God for this Won
derful physical organism, this sweep of
vision, this chime of harmony struck
into the ear, this crimson tide rolling
through arteries and veins, this drum
ming of the heart ON the march of i'm
l convict myself, and convict every
one of you '. lie l say these things, that
we are unappreciative of the common
mercies of life. And yet if they were
withdrawn, the heavens would withhold
their rain, and the earth would crack
open under our feet, and famine and
desolation and sickness and woe would
stalk across the earth, and the whole
earth would become place of skulls.
Oh, my friends, let us wake up to an
appreciation OF the common mercies of
life. Let every day be Sabbath, every
meal sacrament, every room a holy Of
holes. We all have burdens to bear; let
us cheerfully bear them. We all have
battles to fight; let us courageously fight
them.
If we want to die right, we must live
right. You go home and attend to your
little sphere of duties will go home
and attend to my little sphere of duties.
You cannot do my work; 1 cannot do
your work. Negligence and Incidence
will win the hiss of everlasting scorn.
while faithfulness will gather its gar
lands and wave its scepter and sit upon
It's throne long after the world has put |
On ashes and eternal ages have begun |
their march.
Dancing Amid Daisies. |
A ''daisy dance" is the latest in enter |
tainments given by an original young |
lady at her summer home. Adjoining |
the old homestead is q great daisy field. |
The white petals of the flowers stretch |
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