The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1893-06-16

honor of their life just to have him
speak to them; yet, although he is so
high up in worldly position, he is not
beyond the reach of Ehud's dagger. |
see great many people trying to climb
up in social position, having an idea
that there is safe place somewhere far
above, not knowing that the mountain
of fame has top like Mont Blanc, COW
cred with perpetual snow.
We laugh at the children of Shinar
for trying to build a tower that could
reach to the heavens; but l think, if
our eyesight were only good enough,
we could see Babel in many door
yard. OH the struggle is fierce. 1t is
store against store, house against
house, street against street, nation
againt nation. The goal for which
men are running is chairs and chande-
Tiers, and mirrors, and houses, and
lands, and presidential equipments. Ii
they get what they anticipate, what
have they got? Men are not safe from
calumny while they live, and, worse
than that, they are not safe after they
are dead: for have seen swine root up
graveyards One day a man goes up
into publicity, and the world does him
honor, and people climb up into syca-
more trees to watch him as he passes,
and, as he goes along on the Shoulders
of the people. there is waving of hats
and wild huzza. Tomorrow the same
man is caught between the jaws of a
printing press and mangled and bruised,
and the very same persons who ap-
plauded him before cry: Down with
the traitori down with him.
Belshazzar sits at the feast, the
mighty men of Babylon sitting all
around him. Wit sparkles like the
wine, and the wine like the wit. Music
rolls up among the chandeliers, the
chandeliers flash down on the decant-
ers, the breath of hanging gardens
float in on the night air, the voice of
revelry floats out. Amidst wreaths and
tapestry. and folded banners, a finger
writes. The march of host is heard
on the stairs. Laughter catches in the
throat. A thousand hearts stop beat
ing The blow is struck. The blood
on the floor is richer-hued than the
wine on the table. The kingdom has
departed. Belshazzar was no worse,
perhaps, than hundreds of people in
Babylon, but his position slew him
Oh, be content with just such a posi-
ton as God has placed you in. 1t may
not be said of us: 'He was a great
general, or "he was an hOnored chief
tain" or ''he was mighty in worldly
attainments;r but this thing may be
said of you and me: ''IIe was a good
citizen, faithful Christian. friend of
Jesus" AM. that in the last day will
be the highest OF all eulogiums
learn further from this subject that
death comes to the summer house.
Eglon did not expect to die in that fine
place. Amidst all the flower leaves
that drifted like summer snow into the
window: in the tinlzle and the dash of
the fountains; in the sound of thou
sand leaves fluttering on one tree
branch: in the cool breeze that came to
shake up feverish trouble out of the
kings locks-there was nothing that
spake of death. but there he died! In
the winter when the snow is shroud,
and when the wind is a dirge, it is easy
to think of our mortality, but when the
weather is pleasant, and all our sur
roundings are agreeable, how diff
cult it is for us to appreciate
the truth that we are mortal. And yet
my text teaches that death does some
times come to the summer house. He is
blind and cannot see the leaves. He is
deaf and cannot hear the fountains.
Oh, if death would ask us for victims. we
could point him to hundreds of people
who would rejoice to have him come.
Push back the door of that howell. Look
at the child-cold. and sick. and hun
gry. 1t has never heard the name of
God but in blasphemy. Parents intox-
icated, staggering around its straw bed.
Oh, death there is mark for thee.
Up with it into the light! Before these
little feet stumble on life's pathway,
give them rest.
Here is an aged man. He has done
his work. He has done it gloriously.
The companions of his youth are all
gone, his children dead, he longs to be
at rest, and YEARLY the days and the
nights pass. He says, Come, Lord
Jesus-come quickly" Oh, death,
there is mark for thee! Take from
him the staff and give him the
scepterl Up with him into the light,
where eyes never grow dim and the air
whitens not through the long years of
eternity All, death will not do that
Death turns back from the straw bed,
and from the aged man ready for the
skies, and comes to the summer
house. What dost thou here,
thou bony, CHASTITY monster, amidst
this waving grass, and under
this sunlight sitting through the tree
branches? Children are at play. How
quickly their feet go. and their locks
toss in the wind. Father and mother
stand at the side of the room looking
on, enjoying their glee. 1t does not
seem possible that the wolf should ever
break into that fold and carry off a
lamb Meanwhile an old archer stands
looking through the thicket. He points
his arrow at the brightest of the group
he is sure understandable bow
bends. the arrow speeds, Hush now!
The quick feet have. stopped. and the
locks toss no more in the wind. Laugh
ter has gone out of the hall. Death in
the summer house,
Here is father in mid-life: his COM
ing home at night is the signal for
mirth. The children rush to the door,
and there are books on the evening
stand, and the hours passed away on
glad feet. There is nothing wanting
in that home. Religion is there, and
sacrifices on the altar morning and
night. You look in that household and
say. Il cannot think of anything hap
pier. do not really believe the world