The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1897-01-03
Special Correspondence Of Rpublic.)

New OrK, Dec. 5l.-1Ou and / may be
thoughtess all the year through, but
there comes time when, waiting for the
bells to ring ia the New Year, we are
forced to think. Not to dream about the
pleasure Of tomorrow, not to gloat over
the delicate feasts, not to remember the
fascination Of the game, Of the beauti-
full woman, of the dainty dishes, or the
fine wines; but to face that inward moni-
tor, the conscience, and wonder about
the future Somewhere, my friend, there
is Life Book that has, written upon the
first page your name. The preface tells
of all that is yours by heredity; of your
environments, and the temptations that,
because the flesh is weak, will most surely
come to you. A greater being than you
| put down the name and wrote the pre-
| face, but you have been filing the leaves
with your own writing, sometimes clear,
sometimes blurred; blurred, perhaps, with
wine stain, faded out with tear drop,
or made crimson by your hearts blood.
| And when that book is read, there will
! be another book opened, and your fate
will be told to you as the leaves of the
great Judgment Book unfold.
| THOUGHTS or THE OLD YEAR.
! Tonight take an hour to yourself-de-
vote an hour, only sixty minutes, to think
| ing OF the year gone by. Judge yourself
| 10y the laws written on the stone tablets
50 many thousand years ago, and see
what the record would be in your life
| book if it were read by a stranger. Never
mind whether you are acquainted with
those laws in the order in which they
were written or nqt-yOu know the differ
ence between virtue and vice, between
right and wrong, without absolute ex-
actness. Take up the book and look at
lit. You are fortunate, my friend. Your
@sfe book is daintily bound, its corners
Tare rich in silver gilt and your name is
wrought upon it in gems of great price.
J Your neighbours book is of common
paper, with a poor binding. But the
great Judge does not decide by appear
| ances, and your neighb0r has the same
chance that you have, although, indeed,
| because Of the fneness Of the binding,
| because Of the ease in which your life
! has been spent, more good deeds be
written in your books, since you never
needed to steal for bread, or to be dis
honest for the sake Of a few dollars,
These laws are old-fashioned-but so is
death old-fashioned-and that which
comes after-it is not a new fashion.
Look at the first law; have you had one
God or many? Was it of more Importance
to you that you slept easily, that you ate
rich food, that you adored beautiful wo-
men, and, perhaps, made an idol Of one
who seemed to you little more lovely
! than all the rest? Or did you bow down
to meaner gods? Did you bend the knee
| to
THE GOD OF GREEDINESS,
Of wealth, of lust, or did you worship
yourself? What a mean god is self?
| Poor, weak, and utterly unstable! In
the hour Of trouble could you turn to any
one Of these, your chosen gods, for help?
! Perhaps you elected to have for your
gods those children Of the brain, those
queer, strange beliefs that lead you
where? Then, turning over another leaf,
| do you have to write yourself down a
| blasphemer? Have you soiled your lips
with jests against One so much greater
than yourself that you ought scarcely to
mention His name save with reYerenuaI
| bow? How would you like to hear these
! tests and these wicked words come from
| the lips of the child that bears your
name? How would you like to have
them said by the woman whom you love
! best in all the world? You laugh a little
uneasily. You mutter something about
nonsense; but it isn't nonsense, my
! friend; there is very much of good sense
| in it.
/ Close your eyes aad imagine you were a
boy again, and see yourself happy in your
Sunday suit, dressed to go TO church, and
clinging, like the shy boy you were, to the
hand Of your mother. Then you sang
hymns and raised your voice in praise
| Of God, and after that you came home
and enjoyed the day in a quiet way, hear
| ing, probably some of the stories of the
great and good men who have lived, as
we'll as of one man who was q boy like
you, in that he was human, and who could
sympathize with you because Of that hui
mainly; and yet because he knew all of
your desires and disappointments, because
Of His divinity, He could lead you to
greater ambition and console you under
greater disappointments. Then, when
night dropped it's curtain and the stars
pinned it up, you went to sleep easily, be-
cause you were happy, and you were
happy because you were good.
You open your eyes and shrug your
shoulders and say: Times have changed;
it's different when ones a man." Don't
you wish you were n boy again? How
are your Sundays spent nOw2 You sleep
late in the morning; you awaken when
the churches are letting out; past dis
sipations have killed your appetite for
breakfast, and, as you would say, you
drag through the day somehow and wish
for Monday. 1 wonder how the Sun
days will look as they are described upon
your Life Book? That book will be read
before all the world, and DO you think
you will be proud Of the account given
of those days?
Then there comes that commandment
with promise, the only one. How have
ySu honOred those whose name you bear?
You count your father as old-fashioned;
as something Of bore. You think you
have done your duty to your mother il
you send her an occasional present but
what you really might do, Of what they
hoped for; Of how they counted on your
being, when you were man, not only
the dearly beloved son, but the friend and
the consellor; the one to whom they could
turn with their SORROWS and find sympa-
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