The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-12-09

fute-voiced. and conversation facile, care
fully toned and F'renchy.
On, what a beautiful thing IL is to see
a young man standing up amid these
temptations of city life incOrrupt while
hundreds are falling. / viii tell your his
tory. You will move in respectable cir
cles all your days, and some day a friend
Of your father Will meet you and say:
Good morning; glad to see YOU You
seem TO be prospecting; you look like your
father for an the world; l thought you
would turn out well when / used TO hold
you on my knee; II you ever want any
help or any advice, come 10 me; as long
as 4 remember your father I'll remember
you. Good morning" That Will be the
history Of hundreds Of these young men.
How DO / know il? j know it by the way
you start. But here's a young man who
takes the opposite route: voices of sin
charm him away. He reads bad books.
minsles in bad society. The glow mas
gone from his cheek and the sparkle from
his eye. and the purity from his soul.
Down he goes, little by little. The people
who saw him when he came TO town
while yet lowered over his head the bles-
sing OF pure mothers prayer and there
was on his lips the dew of pure sisters
KISS now as they see him pass cry; W nat
an awful Wreckf' Cheek bruised in
grOgshop fight. Eye bleared with dissipa-
uon- Lip swollen with indulgences. Be
careful what you say TO him, Tor a trifle
he would take your life. Lower down,
lower down until, OutCast of God ana
man, he lies in the asylum, blotch Of
lOatnSomenesS and pain. one moment ne
calls for God and then he calls for rum.
He prays, he curses, he laughs as
a hend laughs, then bites his
nails into the quick, then puts his hands
through the hair hanging around his head
like the main of a wild beast, then shiv-
ers until the cot shakes, with unutterabie
terror then with his fists fight back the
devils, or clutches for serpents that seem
to wind around him their awful folds,
then asks for water which is instantly
consumed on his cracked lips. Some morn
ing the surgeon going his rounds will find
him dead. DO not try to comb out or
brush back the matted locks. Straighten
out the limbs, wrap him in a sheet, put
him in box, and let two men carry him
down to the wagon at the door. With
piece OF chalk write on top of the box the
name of the destroyer and the destroyed.
Who is it2 1t is you, oh man, if. yiedinS
TO the temptations of dissipated life you
seemeth bright and fair and beautiful to
a man, but the end thereof is death. EN-
ploy these long nights of December, Jam
uary and February in high pursuits, in
intelligent socialities, in innocent amuse-
ments, in Christian work. Do not waste
this winter, for soon you will have seen
your last snoW-shoWer, and have gone UP
into the companionship of him whose
raiment is white as snow, whittier than any
fuller on earth could whiten il. For ali
Christian hearts the winter nights of
heaven. The river of life from under the
throne never freezes over. The foliage OF
LIES fair tree is never frost-bitten. The
festivities, the hilarites, the family greet
ings of earthly Christmas times will give
way to larger reunion and brighter lights
and sweeter garlands and mghtier joy III
the great holiday of heaven.