The Penn's Grove record., 1897-04-23
In the Midst of Life We are in
Death.
Written for the REcoRD.)

friend or that for the last time. IL Is
well for u a that such t0reknowl'
edge is not given, or the air would De
filed with farewells to the dying, and
and those who are about to die. we
meet this person or that whom we have
met hundreds of times before. II may
be we talk of something that has been
done or is to be done. We part and
each goes on his way. There has been
nothing of special Importance in our
talk, nor have we parted in any but the
most casual and ordinary manner. Yet
we have met for the last time in this
world, for over one has been cast the
shadow of death, though be knows 1t
not. 1t is only when we hear that he
has passed from among the walks OF
men that we recall how he looked and
what be said when we met for the last
time.
What different thoughts would have
been ours had the solemn truth been
known on the occasion Of our meeting.
With what interest we would have
dwelt on his words or looked into the
eyes that should never look upon us
again in this liiel 1t may be that
something was said that was unkind or
uncharitable, or at the least, that
something of the kind was thought. In
many ways, indeed, a one imagine
not what might be said but what you'd
not be said did men but realize when
they met for the last time.
In the enjoyment of health and the
hope of a long life, Il assumes that,
in meeting another for the last time,
that other is the first of the two to be
summoned hence. Many a well man
has felt u sympathy in seeing one whose
days appeared to be numbered, and has
himself gone to his home for the last
time. For whether a ina is called
suddenly away Or whether he has to
battle along with illness, he goes from
his business, OF the field, to his home
for the last time without realizing the
significance of his act.
For years lie has been accustomed to
go to his duties each morning and to
| return at the close of his working day.
He knows perfectly well that some day
| there will he an end 10 this, but the
time always seems far in the future,
and it is as we'll for the merely human
work he is to accomplish that it should
| seem 50. After a hard days Work eth.
er in the office, store or upon The farm,
he prepares to go home. There is
| doubtless more Or less that he has left
to be done at a more convenient season.
Tomorrow will do as well as to-day
for much that remains undOne. There
may be a great deal that he intends to
do when he gets time, but the future
will give him all the time he needs.
There are matters which nobody un-
derstands but himself, and which, if
Lle were not there, would require much
effort ON the part Of others to arrange.
In any occupation there may be many
things he has not explained to his as
sociates or employees, because there is
| no need of such explanation while he is
with them. If he were closing up his
affairs it would be another matter, and
it would be a very different thing if lie
knew lie were about to die. So he
leaves his work as usual, arranging
this or that trifle, goes out with Il pass
ing word to his associates, who pay no
| particular attention to the fact, since
everything seems to be as usual with
him and with them. What would be
his thoughts and theirs did they realize
that when the door closed behind him
it shut him out forever
The rest is merely a matter of detail,
varying with the individual. He goes
home as usual and never returns. In
d case an apparently slight illness
confines him to the house the next day
and then follows other days, perhaps
weeks, and then comes death. In 9TH
er Instances the summons is more sud.
den. Whatever he the history of the
case, there is in human life the uniform
ity of a last time when we see or do
this Or that with no other thought than
that we shall see or do it again. For
indeed, among all mankind, there is
no individual hope so common as the
expectation Of future days. Yet in all
mortal Affairs beyond the immediate
present one thing IS present. and that
is death.