The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1896-09-02
A HARVEST cHAD0W
REV. DR.. TALMAGE TELLS 4 TOUcH-
ING BIBLE STORY.

IlS1 SiOGC = SAN'-
The Beauty of Childhood-Its Power Over
the Parental Heart-Its Elisstul TRANSIT
tlon From Earth to Keaven-The Loved
and Lost.
WASHINGTON, Aug. 23.-While the
reapers are busy in many parts OF the
land and the harvests are being gath
cred the scene brought before us IN
this subject IS especially appropriate.
The text is II Kings iv, Is, 19, 30:
'sAnd when the child was grown 1t
fell on day that he went out to his
father to the reaperS. And he said
unto his father, My head, my headn
And he said to lad, Garry him to
his mother And when he had taken
him and brought him TO his mother
he sat on her knees till noon and then
died"
There is at least one happy home in
Shunem. To the luxuriance and splen-
dor of a great house had been given
the advent of a child. Even when the
angel of life brings new soul to the
poor mans hut a star OF Joy shines
over the manger. Infancy, with its
helplessness and innocence, had pass
ed away. Days Of boyhood had come.
days of laughter and frolic, days Of
sunshine and promise, days OF strange
questions and curiosity and quick de-
velopment. I suppose among all the
treasures of that house the brightest
was the boy. One day there is the
shout of reapers heard aheld. a boys
t.sart always bounds ct the sound Of
sickle or scythe. No sooner have the
harvesters cut swath across the field
than the lad joins them, and the
swarthy reapers feel young again as
they look down at that lad, SIS bright
and beautiful as was Ruth in the har-
vest fields of Bethlehem cleaning af-
ter the reapers. But the sun was too
hot for him. Congestion of the brain
seized him.
I see the swarthy laborers drop thrir
sickles, and they rush out TO see what
is the matter, and they fan him, and
they try to cool his brow, but all is Of
no avail. In the instant Of conscious
ness he puts his hands against his
temples and cries out, my head, my
head" And the father said, Garry
him to his mother" just as any father
wolld have said, for our hand is too
rough, and our voice is too harsh, and
our feet is too loud to doctor sick
child If there be in our home gentler
voice, and 8 gentler hand, and still
er footstep. But all of no avail. While
the reapers Of Shunem were busy in
the field there came stronger reaper
that way, with keener scythe and for
richer harvest. He reaped only one
sheaf, but Oh, what golden sheaf
was that! I do not want to know any
more about that heart t-breaking scene
than what I see in just this one pa.
thetic sentence, s'He sat on her knees
till noon and then died" Though
hundreds of years have passed away
since that boy skipped to the harvest
field. and then was brought home and
died on his mothers lap, the story
still thrills US. Indeed childhood has
3 charm always and everywhere. /
shall now speak to you of childhood,
its beauty, its susceptibility to inpres
sion, its power over the parental heart,
and its bGssful transition from earth
to heaven.
The child's beauty does not depend
upon form or feature or complexion
or apparel That destitute one that
you saw on the street, bruised with
unkindness and In rags, has charm
about her even under her restitution.
You have forgotten great many per
sons whom you met, of finely cut fea-
lures and with erect posture and with
faultless complexion, while you will
always remember the poor girl who,
on cold, moonlight night, as you
were passing late home, in her thin
shawl and barefoot on the pavement,
put out her hand and said, 'sPlease to
give me a penny2" All, how often
we have walked on and said, "Oh.
that is nothing but street vagabcnd-
ismp' but after we got block or two
on we stopped and said, 'Ah, that is
not right" and we passed up that
same way and dropped mite into
that suffering hand as though it were
not a matter of second thought, so
ashamed were we of our hard hesrt-
edness.
With what admiration we all look
upon a group of children on the play
ground or in the school, and we clap
our hands almost involuntarily and
say, Glow beautifull' All stiffness
and dignity are gone, and your shout
is heard with theirs, and trunole their
hoop, and fly their kite. and strike
their ball, and all your wariness and
anxiety are gone as when child you
bounded over the playground your
ssH. That father who stand rigid and
unsyRpathetic amid the sportfulness
of children ought never to have been
tempted out of 8 crusty and unre-
deemable solitariness. The waters leap
down the rocks but they have not the
graceful step of childhood. The morn
ing comes out of the gates OF the east,
throwing its silver on the lake and its
gold on the towers and its fire on
the cloud, but it is not so bright
and beautiful as the morning of
life. There is no light like that
which is kindIed in a child's eye, no
colcr like that which blooms on
child's cheek, no music like the sound
Of 8 child's voice. It's face in the
poorest picture redeems any imperfect
In art. When we are weary with
toll, their little hands pull the burdens
off our back. Oh, what dull, stale,
mean world this would bewithout the
sportfulness of children! When l
find people that do not like children,
Immediately doubt their moral and
Christian character. But when the
grace of God comes upon child how
unspeakably attractive! When Sam
uel begins to pray, and Timothy be-