Owingsville outlook. [volume] (Owingsville, Ky.) 1879-192?, 1896-10-29

generations their places. We will
have had our good time. Let them
come on and have their good time.
There is no signing among these leaves
to-day, because other leaves are td fol-
low them. Alter lifetime of preach
ing, doctoring, selling, sewing, or dig
cling. let MS checrfully give way for
those who come On 10 dU their preach
ing, doctoriig. selling, sewing and dig
ging. God grant hat their life may
he brighter than ours has been! AS we
get older, do not let H. b. airrouted IL
young men aud women crpwl us
little. We will have had our day. and
we must let them have theirs. When
our voices get cracked. let us not snarl
at those who can MARBLE.
When our knees are stiffened. let us
have patience with those who get fleet
as the deer. Because our leaf Is fad
ing, do not let us dcspise the unfrost-
ed. Autumn must not envy the spring.
Old men must be patient with boys
DIR. Guthrie stood up in Scotland and
said: You need not think I am old
because my hair is white; | never was
so young rs am now" | look back to
my childhood days, and remember
when, in winter nights, In the sitting
room, the children played. the biithest
and gaycst of all the company were
father and mother. Although reach
ing fourscorc years of age, they never
got old.
Do not be disturbad rs you see good
and great men die. People worry
when some important parsonage passes
of the stage, and say, Ills place will
never he taken" But neither the
church nor the state will suffer for it.
There will be others to take the
places When God takes one man
away, he has another right back of
him. tod is so rich in resources that
he could spare 5000 Summerfelds and
Saurins, if there were SO many There
will be other leaves as green, as
eNquisitely veined, as gracefully
ever prominent the place we
ill. our death will not jar the
world. One falling leaf does not shake
the Adirondacks. A ship is not we'll
manned unless there be an extra sup
ply of hands some working on deck;
some sound asleep in their hammocks
God has manned this world very we'll
There will be other seamen on deck
when you and are down in the cabin
sound asleep in the hammocks.
Again: As with the leaves, we fade
and fall amid myriads of Others. One
can not count the number OF plumes
which these frosts are pluclxing from
the hills. They will strew all the
streams; they will drift into the
caverns: they will soften the wild
beasts lair and fill the eagles erie.
All the aisles OF the forest will be
covered with their carpet, and the
steps of the hills glow with a wealth
of color and shape that will defy the
looms of Administer. What urn could
hold the ashes of all these dead leaves?
Who could count the hosts that burn
on this funeral pyre of the mount
aims?
80 we die in concert. The clock that
strikes the hour of our going will
sound the going of many thousands
Keeping step with the feet of those
who carry us out will he the tramp of
hundreds doing the sane errand.
Between 30 and 20 people every day lie
down in Greenwood. That place has
over 200, 200 of the dead. said to the
man at the gate, Then il there are
so many here, you must have
the largest cemetery He said
there were two Roman Catholic cemc-
teries in the city, each of which had
more than this. We are all dying.
London and Fekin are not the great
cities of the world. The grave is the
great city. 1t hath mightier popula-
ton, longer streets, brighter lights,
thicker darkness. Cesar is there, and
all his subjects. Nero is there and all
his victims City of kings and pau
pers! II has swallowed up in its i'm
migrations Thebes. and Tyre and
Babylon, and will swallow all our
cities. Yet, City of Silence. No voice.
No hoof. No wheel. No clash. No
shifting of hammer. No clack of fy-
ing loom. No jar. No whisper.
OF all its million million hands, not
one of them is lifted. or all it's million
million eyes, not one of them sparkles.
OF all its million million hearts not
one pulsates. The living are in small
minority.
If, in the movement of time some
great question between the living and
the dead should be put, and God called
up all the dead and the living to de-
eide it, as we lifted our hands, and
from all the resting places of the dead
they lifted their hands, the dead would
outvote us. Why, the multitude of the
dying and the dead are as these autumn
nal leaves drifting under our feet to-
day. We march on toward eternity.
not b. companies of hundred, or
regiments of thousand. or brigades
of ten thousands, but sixteen hundred
million abreast! Marching on. March
ing on!
Again! As with variety of appear
ance the leaves depart, SO do we. You
have noticed that some trees, at the
first touch of the frost, lose all their
beauty; they stand withered and I'M
comely, and ragged, waiting for the
northern storm to drive them into the
mire. The sun shining at MONDAY
gilds them with no beauty. Ragged
leaves! Dead leaves! No one stands
to study them. They are gathered in
no vase. They are hung on no wall
So death smites many. There is no
beauty in their departure. One
sharp frost of sickness, or one
blast off the cold waters and
they are gone. No tinge of
hope. No prophecy of Heaven. Their
spring was all abloom with bright
prospects; their summer thick foliaged
with opportunities; hut October came,
and their glory went. Frosted. In
early autumn the frosts come, but do
not seem to damage vegetation. They
are light frosts. But some morning
you look out of the window and say:
There was n black frost last night,
and you know that from that day
everything will wither. So men
seem to get along without religion,
amid the annoyances and vexations of
life that min them slightly here and min