The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1896-11-07

of 1000. or brigadss OF 10. 900. but l, Co.,
0O0. OC0 sbreasti Marching onl March.
Ing on!
Again; As with variety of appear
ancs the leaves depart, so do we. You
have noticed that some trees, Mt the
first touch OF the frost, lose all their
beauty; they stand withered, and un-
comedy, and ragged, waiting for the
northeast storm to drive them into the
mire. The sun shining 1T MONDAY
gilds them with no beauty. Ragged
leavesi 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 on
the GOLD waters, and they are
gone. No tingo Of hope. No
prophecy of Heaven. Their spring
was all abloom with bright prospects;
their summer thick-foliaged with OPP
portunities; but 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 a black frost last night"
and you know that from that day
everything will wither. Somen seem
to get along without religion, amid
the annoyances and vexations that
nip them slightly here and nip them
there. But after awhile death comes.
1t is a black frost. and all is ended.
Oh, what whitening and scattering
death makes among those not pre-
pared to meet it! They leave every
thing pleasant behind them-their
house, their families, their friends,
their books, their pictures, and step
out of the sunshine into the shadow.
They quit the presence of bird, and
bloom, and wave, to go unbeckoned
and unwelcomed. The bower in
which they stood, and sang, and wove
chaplets, and made themselves merry,
has gone down under an awful equi-
noctial. No bell can toll one-half the
dolefulness Of their condition. Frosted!
But thank God that is not the way
people always die. Tell me, on what
day of all the year the leaves of the
woodbine are as bright as they are to-
day? So Christian character is never
so attra ctive as in the dying hour.
Such go into the grave, rot as a dog,
with frown and harsh voice, driven in
to kennel, but they pass away calm
ly, brightly, sweetly, grandly! AS the
leaf! AS the leaf!
Why GO to the death-bed of distin-
guished men, when there is hardly a
house on this street but from it a
Christian has departed? When your
baby died there were enough angels
in the room to have chanted n coro-
nation. When your father died you
sat watching, and after awhile felt
of his wrist, and then put your hand
under his arm to see II there
was any warmth left, and placed
the mirror to the mouth to see
if there were any sign of breathing;
and when all was over you thought
how grandly he slept-a giant resting
after a battle. Oh! there are many
Christian death beds. The chariots of
God, come to take His children home,
are speeding every-whither. This one
halts at the gate of the almshouse; that
one at the gate of princes. The shout
of captives breaking their chains
comes on the morning air. The
heavens ring again and again with
the coronation. The IL gates of
Heaven are crowded with the ascend
ing righteous. / see the accumulated
glories of a thousand Christian death
beds-an autumnal forest illuminated
by an autumnal sunset! They died
not in shame, but in triumph! AS the
leaf! AS the leaf!
Lastly: AS the leaves fade and fall
only to rise, SO do we. All this golden
shower of the woods is making the
ground richer, and in the juice, tho
sap and life of the tree the leaves will
come up again. Next May the south
wind will blow the resurrection trnm-
pet, and they will rise. So we fall in the
dust only to rise again. THE hour is
coming when all who are n their
graves shall hear His voice and come
forth" 1t would be horrible consid.
GRAFTON to think that only bod IS were
only to lie in the ground. However
beautiful the flowers you plant there,
we do not want to make our eYerlast-
ing residence in such place.
l have with these eyes seen SC many
of the glories of the natural world,
and the radiant faces Of my friends,
that do not want to think that when
l close them in death shall never open
them again. 1t is sad enough to have
hand or foot amputated. In hos
pital, after soldier had had his hand
taken off, he said: "Good-by, dear
old hand, you have done me
great deal of good service"
and burst into tears. It is
more awful thing to think of having
the whole body amputated from the
soul forever. l must have my body
again, to see with, to hear with, to
walk with. With this hand I must
clasp the hand of my loved ones when
l have passed clean over Jordan, and
with it wave the triumphs of my King.
Aha! we shall rise again-we shall
rise again. AS the leaf! AS the leaf
Crossing tho Atlantic the ship may
founder, and our bodies be eaten by