Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1896-08-03


at Emulaus.
The words of the text are pertinent
IA rs all. from the fact that we are
nearing the evening OF death. I have
heard It said that we ought to live as
though each moment We're to be cur
last. I do not believe that theory. AS
far as preparation is concerned, we
ought always to be ready; but we can
not always be thinking of death, for we
have duties in life that demand our at
tention. When man is selling goods, it
is his business to think Of the bargain
he is making. When man is pleading
in the courts it is his duty to think of
the interests of his clients. When a
clerk is adding up his accounts, it 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 I knew
man who used to often say at night, II
wish I might die before morning'' He
became an infdel.
From Time to Eternity.
But there are times when we can and
ought to give ourselves to the contem-
plation of that solemn moment when to
We must go through that one pass
There is no roundabout way, no bypath,
no circuitous route Die we must: and
it will be to US a shameful occurrence
or time of admirable behavior. Our
friends may stretch out their hands to
keep us back, but no imploration on
their part can hinder us. They might
offer large retainers, but death would
not take the fee. 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 wailings of widowhood and
orphanage; does death mind weeping?
This ought not to be depressing
theme. Who wants to live here forever?
The world has always treated me well,
and every day feel less and less like
scolding and complaining. But yet I
would not want to make this my eternal
residence. I love to watch the clouds
and battle my soul III the blue sea of
heaven, but I expect when the firma-
new heaven, grander, higher and more
glorious. You ought to be willing to
exchange your body that has headaches
and sideaches and weaknesses innumer-
able, that linps with the stone bruise or
testers with the thorn OF flames on the
funeral pyre of fevers for an incorrupt-
ible 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. I |
doubt net your courage, bat [ tell you
that you will want something better
than strong arm, a good aim and a |
trusty sword when you come to your
last battle. You will need better robe
than any you have III your wardrobe to
keep you warm i'll that place.
The Gathering Night.
Circumstances do not make so much |
difference. 1t may be Il bright day when
you push off from the planet, or it may
be 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 snow shroud.
1t may be autumn and the forests set
on fire by the retreating year-dead ma
ture laid out i'll state. 1t may be with
your wife's hand in your hand, or you
make be in s. strange hotel with serv-
ant faithful to the last. It may be in
the rail train, shot off the switch and
tumbling in long reverberation down
the Observation-Disclosures, crash! | know
not the time, / 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
four minutes, three minutes,
two minutes, one minute. Then only
seconds left--fOur seconds, three sec
Onds, two seconds, one second. Gone!
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 uHdisheveled by any
human hands. The muscles still. The
nerves still. The lungs still. The tongue
still. All still. You might put the steth-
Oscope to the breast and hear no sound.
You might put a speaking trumpet TO
the ear, but you could not wake the
deafness. No motion, no throb, no life.
Still, still!
So death comes to the disciplel What
if the sun of life is about to set? Jesus
is the day spring from on high, the per-
petual morning of every ransomed spirit.
What if the darkness comes? Jesus is
the light Of the world and of heaven.
What though this earthly house does
rumble? Jesus has prepared a house of