The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1894-08-31


following sermon for publication this
week The subject is 'An Only Son.
and the text:
Now when he came nigh to the gate Of the
! city. behold. there was a dead man carried out
the only son OF his mother, and she was a
i widow and much people Of the city was with
I her. And when the Lord saw her he had COM
i passion on her. and said unto her: "Weer
not" And he came ana touched the bier; and
they that bare him stood still. And He said;
Young man. say unto thee, arise" And he
that was dead sat up and began to speak. And
He delivered him to his mother.-Lulze vii,
l2-I5
The text calls rs to stand at the gate
of the city of Main The streets are
a-rush with business and gayety, and
the ear is deafened with the hammers
of mechanism and the wheels of traffic.
/ Work, with its thousand arms and
\ thousand eyes and thousand feet, fills
/ all the street, when suddenly the
crowd parts, and a funeral passes.
Between the wheels of work and pleas
ure there comes a long procession of
mourning people. Who is it? A trifier
says: .Oh, it's nothing but a funeral.
It may have come up from the hospital
/ of the city, or the almshouse, or some
low place of the town. but not so says
the serious observer. There are somany
evidences of dire bereavement that we
know at the first glance some one has
been taken away greatly beloved; and
| to our inquiry: ''Who is this that is
carried out with so many Offices of
kindness and affection?" the reply
comes: ''The only son of his mother,
and she a widow" Stand back and let
the procession pass outl Hush all the
voices of mirth and pleasurel Let
every head be uncovered Weep with
/ the passing procession; and let it be
told through all the market places and
bazars of Main, that in Galilee to-day
the sepulcher hath gathered to itself
1.-THE only son of his mother, and she a
| widow"
There are two or three things that,
| in my mind, give especial pathos to
this scene. The first is, he was young
man that was being carried out. To
/ the aged, death becomes beautiful.
The old man halts and pants along the
road, where once he bounded like the
roe. From the midst of immedicable
ailments and SORROWS he cries out:
"How long, oh Lord, how long?' Foot
sore on the hot journey, he wants to
| get home. He sits in the church, and
sings, with a tremulous voice, some
tune he sang forty years ago, and longs
| to join the better assemblage of one
hundred and forty and four thousand,
| and the thousands of thousand who
have passed the flood. How sweetly
he sleeps the last sleepl Push back
/ the white locks from the wrinkled
temples; they viii never ache again
/ Fold the hands over the still heart;
they viii never fold again. Close
gently the eyes; they viii never weep
| again.
But this man that am speaking of
was young man. He was just put
ting on the armor of life, and he was
exulting to think how his sturdy
blows would ring out above the clamor
of the battle. 1 suppose he had a
young mans hopes, young mans am
billions, and n young mans courage.
He said; "If live many years, will
feed the hungry and clothe the naked
In this city Of Main, where there are
so many bad young men, I will be
sober and honest, and pure, and mag.
unanimous, and my mother shall never
be ashamed of me-" But all these
prospects are blasted in one hour
There he passes lifeless in the process
sion. Behold all that is left on earth
of the high-hearted young man of the
city of Main.
There is another thing that adds
very much to this scene. and that is,
he was an only son. However large
the family flock may be, we never could
think of sparing one of the lambs
Though they may all have their faults,
they all have their excellences that
commend them to the parental heart;
and if it were peremptoriIy demanded
of you to-day that You should yield up
one of your children out of a very
large family, you would be confound-
ed, and you could not make a selection.
But this was an only son, around whom
gathered all the parental expectations.
How much care in his education! How
much caution in watching his habits!
He would carry down the name to
other times. He would have entire con-
troll of the family property long after
the parents had gone to their last re-
ward. He would stand in society
thinker, worker, a philanthropist,
Christian. No, no. 1t is all ended.
Behold him there. Breath is gone.
Life is extinct. The only son of his
mother.
There was one other thing that added
to the pathos of this scene, and that
was, his mother was a widow. The main
hope Of that home had been broken,
and now he was come up to be the
staff. The chief light of the household
had been extinguished, and this was
the only light left. I suppose she often
said, looking at him: There are only
two of us" Oh, it is a grand thing to
see a young man step out in life and
say to his mother: Don't be down
hearted. 1 will, as far as possible,
take fathers place, and as long as
live you shall never want anything"
1t is not always that way.
Sometimes the young people get
tired of the old people They
say they are queer, that they have so
many ailments; and they sometimes
wish them out of the way. A young
man and his wife sat at the table, their |
little son on the floor playing beneath !
the table. The old father was very
old, and his hank shook so, they said; /
you shall no more sit with us at the |
table" And so they gave him a place
in the corner, where day by day he ate |
out of an earthern bowl-everything