The Globe-republican., 1896-08-06


Felix? Who acted like q good sailor
when all the crew howled In the Med
iterr1nean shipwreck? Who helped
the martyrs to be firm when one word
Of recantation would have unfastened
the withes of the stake and put out the
kindling fire? When the night Of the
soul came on and all the denizens OF
darkness came riding upon the winds OF
perdition-who gave strength to the
soul? Who gave calmness to the heart!
Who broke the spell Of internal en-
chantment? He who heard the request
of the villagers. abide with us. for it
is toward evening""
You have long rejoiced in the care OF
mother. You have done everything
to make her last days happy. You
have run with quick feet TO wait upon
her every want. Her presence has
| been q perpetual blessing in the house
hold. But the fruit-gatherers are look
ing wistfully at that tree. Her soul is
ripe for heaven. The gates are ready
to fash open for her entrance. But
your soul sinks at the thought of a
separation. You cannot bear to think
that soon you will be called to take the
last look at that face which from the
first hour has looked upon you with af-
lection Interchangeable. But you see that
life is ebbing and the grave will soon
hide her from your sight You sit
quiet. You feel heavy-hearted. The
light is fading from the sky. The air
is chill. It is toward evening.
| You had a considerable estate and
felt Independent. In five minutes on
one fair balance-sheet you could see
ju~t how you stood in the world. But
there came complications. Something
that you imagined impossible hap
pened. The best friend you had proved
! traitor to your interests. A sudden
crash Of national misfortunes pros
trated your credit. You may today be
going on in business. but you feel anx-
ious about where you are standing. and
fear that the next turning of the wheel
will bring you PROSTATE. You foresee
what You consider certain defalcation
You think of the anguish OF telling
your friends you are not worth a dollar
You know not how you will ever bring
your children home from school. You
wonder how you will stand the selling
Of your library or the moving into a
palmer house. The miSfortunes of life
have accumulated. You wonder what
! hn eli II i, Il
evening.
Trouble is an apothecary that mixes
a great many draughts, bitter and sour
and nauseous. and you must drink
some one of them. Trouble puts up a
great many packs, and you must carry
some one Of them. There is no sandal
so thick and we'll adjusted but some
thorn will strike through it. There is
no sound so sweet but the undertak-
er's screw-driver CRATES through it. In
this swift shuttle Of the human heart
some of the threads must break. The
journey from Jerusalem to Emmau;
will soon be ended. Our Bible, on,
common-sense, our observation reiter-
ate in tones that We cannot mistake
and ought not to disregard. 1t is TO-
ward evening.
Oh, then, for Jesus to abide with US
He sweetens the cup. He extracts the
thorn. He wipes the tear. He bushes
the tempest. He soothes the soul that
flies to him for shelter. Let the nigh,
swoop and the euroclydon cross the sea
Let the thunders roar-s0on all will
be well. Christ in the ship to soothe
his friends. Christ on the sea to stop
its tumult. Christ in the grave to scat
ter the darkness. Christ in the heav-
ems to lead the way. Blessed all such
His arms will enclose them, his grace
comfort them, his light cheer them
his sacrifice free them, his glory en-
chant them. II earthly estate takes
wings, he will be an incorruptible treas
ure. If friends die, he will be their
resurrection. Standing with US in the
morning of our Joy and in the noon
day of our prosperity, he will not for
sake us when the lustre has faded and
it is toward evening.
This ought not to be depressing
theme. Who wants to live here for
ever? The world has always treated
me we'll, and every day feel less and
less like scolding and complaining.
But yet would not want to make this
my eternal residence. l love to watch
the clouds, and battle my soul in the
blue sea of heaven; but expect when
the armament is rolled away as scroll
to see a new heaven, grander, higher
and more glorious. You ought to be
willing to exchange your body that has
headaches and sideaches and weak
nesses innumerable, that limps with
the stonebruise, or testers with the
thorn, or flames on the funeral pyre
Of fevers, for an incorruptible body and
an eye that blinks not before the jas
per gates and the great white throne.
But between that and this there is an
| hour ohor,t which M man ShOuld he