The Penn's Grove record., 1896-08-07

Something that you Imagined Impossible
happened. The best friend you had proved
traitor to your interest. A sudden crash of
National misfortunes Frustrated your credit.
You may to-day be going on in business, but
YOU feel anxious about where you are stand
ing and fear that the next turning Of the
wheel will bring you PROSTATE. You foresee
what yon consider certain defalcation. You
think of the anguish of telling your friends
you are not worth u dollar. You know not
how you will ever bring your children home
from school. You wonder how Won will
stand the selling Of your library or the NOV
ing into a palmer house. Tn misfortunes
Of life have accumulated. You wonder what
makes the sky so dark. II is toward even
lng.
Listen to Paul's battle shout with misfor-
uDe. Hark to mounting Latimer's fire song.
Look Mt the glory that has reft the dungeon
and filled the earth and heavens with tho
rash of the falling manac'es of despotism.
And then look at those who have tried to
cure themselves by human preseri ptions, at
tempting to heal gAngrene with a patch of
court plaster and to stop the plague Of dying
empires with the quackery of earthly wis
dom. Nothing can speak peace to the soul,
nothing can unstrap our crushing burdens,
nothing can overcome our spiritual Toes,
nothing can open our eyes to see the sur
rounding horses and chaTiots OF salvation
that fill all the mountains, but the voice and
command of Him who stopped one night at
Emmaus.
The words of the text are pertinent to US
all, from the fnct that we are nearing the
evening of death. l have heard it said that
we ought 20 live as though each moment
were to be our last. | do not believe that
theory. As far as preparation is concerned,
we ought always to be ready; but we cannot
always be thinking of death, for we have
duties in life that demand our attention.
/ NIhnn a N "a ia aaIltny TrAnI1 ~ ia hia htrEf-
ness to think of the bargain he is making.
When a man is pleading in the courts, it is
his duty to think of the interests OF his
clients. When n clerk is adding up his ac-
counts, 1t is his duty to keep his mind upon
the column OF figures. He who fills up his
life with thoughts of death is far from being
the highest style of Christian. | knew a
man who used to often say at night. II wish
l might die before morning." He became an
intidel
But there are times when we can and ought
to give ourselves to the contemplation OF
that solemn moment when to the soul time
ends and eternity begins. We must go
through that one pass. There is no round
about way, no bypath, no circuitous route.
Die we must; and it will be to us a
occurrence or a time of admirable behavior.
Our friends may stretch out their hands 10
keep us back, but no imploration on their
part can hinder us. They might offer large
! IFlhintTS, uul uchlil WbNlu uOl ldh6 III lCGs
The breath will fail. and the eyes will close.
and the heart will stop. You may hang the
couch with gorgeous tapestry, but what does
death care for beautiful curtains? You may
hang the room with the finest works of art,
but what does death care for pictures? You
may fill the house with the wai1ngs OF
widowhood n o~rphanage; does death mind
weeping?
This ought not to be a depressing theme.
Who wants to live here forever? The world
aas always treated me well, and every day l
feel less and less like seolding and complain
ing. But yet | would not want to make this
my eternal residence, | love to watch the
clouds and battle my soul In the blue sea of
heaven, but ! expect when The armament is
rolled away as u 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
ness innumerable, that limps with the stone
bruise or testers with the thorn or flames
on the funeral pyre OF fevers for an incor-
ruptible body and an eye that blinks not be-
fore the jasper gates and the great white
throne. But between that,and this there is an
hour about which no man should be reckless
or foolhardy. Idoubt not yOur courage, bur
/ tell you that you will want something bet
ter han a strong Rrm, Il good aim and a
trusty sword when you come to your last
battle. You will need a better robe than any
you have in your wardrobe to keep you
warm in that place.
circumstances do not make 50 much ets.
ference. 1t may be a bright day when yea
push of the planet, or 1t may be a dark
night and while the owl is hooting from the
forest. 1t may be spring, and your soul may
go out among the blossoms, apple orchards
swinging their censers in the way. It may
be winter and the earth in a snow shroud.
IT may be autumn and the forests set on fire
by the retreating veHr-dead nature laid out
| in afota II rouu ba with vnnF uyifafa h0nhin
your hand. or you mag De IN e strange hotel
with . servant faithful to the last. 1t may be
In the rail train, shot off the switch and
tumbling In long re~verberation down
the northumberland, crash l know
not the time, l know not the mode, but
the days of our life are being subtracted
away and we shall come down to the
time when we have but ten days left,
then nine days, then eight days, then
seven days, six days, five days, four days,
three days, two days, one day. Then hours
three hours, two hours, one hour. Then
only minutes left-fiye minutes, four min
utes, three minutes, two minutes one minute.
Then only seconds left-four seconds. three
seconds. two seconds, one second. GoneI
The chapter of life ended. The book closed.
The pulses at rest. The feet through with
the journey. The hands closed from all
WORK. No word on the lips. No breath in
the nostrils. Hair combed back to lie I'M
Z bhs NSANN ~ ~ AbAtAh anu NV u
cles still. The nerves still. The lungs still.
The tongue still. Ali still. You might put
the stethoscope to the breast and hear no
sound. You might put a speaking trumpet
10 the ear, but you could not wake the deaf
ness. No motion, no throb, no life. Still,
still!
So death comes to the discipleI What II
the sun of life is about to set? JESUS is the
day spring from on high. the perpetual morn
ing OF every ransomed spirit. What II the
darkness comes? Jesus is the light Of the
world and of heaven. What though this
earthly house does crumbieI Jesus has pre-
pared a house OF many mansions. Jesus is
the anchor that always holds. Jesus is the
light that Is never collapsed. Jesus is the
fountain that is never exhausted. Jesus is
the evening star, hung up amid the gloom of
the gathering night.
You are almost through with the abase
and backbiting of enemies. They will call
you no more by evil names. Your good deeds
will no longer be misinterpreted nor your
honor filched. The troubles Of earth will
end in the felicities. Toward evening. The
be~reavements Of earth will soon be lifted.
You gill not much longer stand pouring
your grief In the tomb, like Rachel weeping
Tor her children or David mourning
for Absalom. Broken hearts bound
up. Wounds healed. Tears wiped away.
Sorrows terminated. No more sound
Ing of the dead march. Toward
evening! Death will some, sweet as slumber
to the eyelids of the babe, as full rations toa
starving soldier, as evening hour to the ex-
hausted workman. The sky will take on its
sunset glow, every cloud a fire psalm. every
lake a CLASSY mirror, tho forests t~ranslgured,
delicate mists climbing the air. Your friends
will announce it; your pulses will beat it;
your joys will ring it; your lips will whisper
1t, Toward evening""