The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1893-10-10
DEATHIN THE STORM.
PlTiLESS WORK OF THE GIANT TWINS,
WIND AND WAVE.

How Cruel at Times Seems the Ocean-The
Most PopuIous Cemetery on the Planet.
The Land the Book Tells of Where
''There Shall Be No More Sea-
And there was no moro sea.-Revelation
xxi, l.
What strange mystery the ocean Isl
Sometimes it holds your little craft as
tenderly as a mother holds her child, and
you wonder that the charge Of caprice
can be brought against it. At other
times it is like an angry ogre who has
tyrant's power and uses 1t like tyrant.
1t is marvellous sight, spectacle Of
thrilling magni6cence which makes the
blood Jingle, to stand on the beach at
such time and watch the serried col
umns of white capped rollers dash them
selves to pieces on the sands. They re-
mind you of Napoleon's army at Water
loo, which had wandered over Europe
with victorious banners, which dreamed
of no force which could resist its prog
ress, but suddenly found itself face to
face with its master, and then, with I'M
controlled madness, threw itself to death
as well as to defeat. The huge array of
white capped monarchs, thinking them
selves invincible, attack the shore with
ferocious energy and pound themselves
to spray. The heart beats wildly as this
great battle between sea and land fills
the air with thunder, and poet and
painter come from far to witness the
conflict and describe its glories with pen
and brush.
But how cruel the ocean can be when
it catches our craft at q disadvantage
Wind and waves in unholy alliance,
compact of death, make the worlds
cheek blanch with horror as the work Of
destruction goes on. These twin giants
seem to be moved by common hatred
of whatever floats, and as though every
vessel was an intruder on their domain
tear it to pieces and doom it to disaster.
The sails are cut into tatters, their masts
are torn away as though the rigging
were made of pack thread, and the huge
hull is either sent to the bottom or
thrown high on the beach In disdain.
The sun In very pity creeps behind the
yelling clouds for awhile, and when it
shines again, after the waves have sub
sided and the tempest has spent itself,
the coast is strewn with wrecks and
many brave sailor lies with upturned
face on the sands.
That was sad news which flashed over
the wires one Thursday morning. One
story followed on the heels Of another
until disaster seemed to be multiplied
by itself, and each account was more
pitiful than the last. A fisherman out
rode the gale for awhile and then went
down with all hands; a sturdy freighter
off Hatteras was dismasted, sprang q
leak and sank, leaving only one sur
vivor to tell the talej scores of lesser
craft were torn from their anchorage,
and the Jersey shore was literally stewn
with wreckage. Other vessels which
had managed to outlive the hurricane
were towed into harbor, either the cap
tain or part of the crew missing.
The book Of Revelation tells us that
in that other country from whose bourne
no traveller returns there shall be no
more sea" and on this Sunday morning
we breathe a sigh Of relief over the
statement. We can dispense with its
magnifcence If we may be rid Of its
dangers. 1t has devoured millions of
property and is the most populous Gem
etery on the planet. When the sea gives
up It's dead, a countless multitude Of the
lost will reappear.
But we are specially impressed with
the lesson which the great storm empha-
sizes-namely, the uncertainty of life.
On the ocean the unexpected happens
more frequently than elsewhere. At one
moment cloudless sky and musical
ripple along the vessels side. The long
roll lifts the craft, which lazily yields to
the rhythmic motion Of the waters. But
danger is in ambush, and after little
the puff Of wind grows stronger, the long
roll is plumed with white crest, the
tempest sounds its trumpet, and the rig
ging, like the strings Of an @olian harp,
emits mournful note like that of a
dirge. In another half hour the whole
artillery Of nature is at work, the moan
ing vessel Is thrown on her beam ends
and creaks and groans as though crying
for mercy. In another hour there is
nothing visible except some struggling
sailor clinging to spar.
However, death has many ways of
achieving It's purpose. Not on the sea
alone, but on the land, 1t does its daily
stint, and 1t behooves us to remember
that sooner or later 1t will have some
thing to say to us. "All men may die,
but shall hve," is the dream Of heed
lessness. "All men must die, and
therefore T." is the fact that is to be
recognized and prepared for.
But we can become indifferent even to
this 'last enemy" 1t is not the glum
Indifference of desperate despair, but the
cheerful indifference of perfect faith.
If we have no place to go to, 1t Is hard
to contemplate our exit. But If there IS
a better place, residence in which will
be added happiness, we may even shake
hands with Death, tell him that our
latchstring is always out and he will be
welcome whenever he sees fit to come.
1t is the fear Of taking leap in the dark
that bids us pause. But if we are sure
of taking leap into the light we can
easily let go our hold on this rugged life
and drop into the life to come. The sea
may rage as it pleases If our next port Of
entry is heaven, and lurking accidents
and diseases may come out Of their hid
ing places into the open, for at the worst
they can only do us good turn by open
ing the door of larger and better house
to live in.-New York Herald.
BLAcKMAlL IN RESTAURANTS.