The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1898-07-20

their arm through one sleeve of their
overcoats, and the sermonic applica-
tion is a failure. 1 am glad you have
made your own application, and that
you are resolved, like Quaker of
whom read years ago, who, in sub
stance, said: 81 shall be along this
path of life but once, and so I must
do all the kindness l can, and all thu
good can."
My hearers, the mistakes Of youth
can never be corrected. Time gone
is gone forever. An opportunity passed
the thousandth part of second has
by one leap reached the other side of a
great eternity. In the autumn when
the birds migrate you look up and
see the sky black with wings, and the
focks stretching out into many leagues
of air, and so to-day look up and see
two large wings in full sweep. They
are the wings of the flying year. That
is followed by flock of 365, and they
are flying days. Each of the flying
days is followed by "a, and they are
the flying hours, and each of these is
followed by 60, and these are the fly
ing minutes. Where did this great
flock start from? Eternity past.
Where are they bound? Eternity to
come. You might as well go a-gun-
ming for the quails that whistled last
year in the meadows, or the robins
that last year caroled in the sky, as to
try to fetch down and bag one of the
past opportunities of your life. Do
not say: 81 will lounge now and
make it up afterward." Young men
and boys, you can't make it up. My
observation is that those who in youth
sowed wild oats to the end of their
short lives sowed wild oats, and that
those who start sowing Genesee wheat
always SOW Genesee wheat.
And then the reaper of the harvest
is so different. There is grandfather
now. He has lived to old age because
his habits have been good. His eye
sight for this world has got somewhat
dim, but his eyesight for Heaven is
radiant. His hearing is not so acute
as it once was, and he must bend clear
over to hear what his little grandchild
says when she asks him what he has
brought for her. But he easily catches
the music rained from supernatural
spheres. Men passing in the streets
take off their hats in reverence, and
women say: what good old man he
is" Seventy or eighty years, all for
God and for making this world happy.
Splendid! Glorious! Magnificent
He will have hard work getting into
Heaven, because those whom he helped
to get there will fill up and crowd the
gates, to tell him how glad they are at
his coming, until he says: "Please
stand back little till pass through
and cast my crown at the feet of him
whom, having not seen, love-" do
not know what you call that, call it
the harvest of Genesee wheat.
Out yonder is man very old at 40
years of age, at time when he ought
to be buoyant as the morning. He
got bad habits on him very early, and
those habits have become worse. He
is man on fire, on fire with alcohol
ism, on fire with all evil habits, out
with the world and the world out with
him. Down, and falling deeper. His
swollen hands in his threadbare pock-
cts, and his eyes fixed on the ground,
he passes through the street, and the
quick step of an innocent child or the
strong step of a young man or the
roll of prosperous carriage maddens
him, and he curses society and he
curses God. Fallen sick, with no re-
sources, he N carried to the aims
house. A loathsome spectacle, he lies
all day long waiting for dissolution,
or in the night rises on his cot and
fights apparitions of what he might
have been and what he will be. He
started life with as good prospect as
any man on the American continent,
and there he is bloated carcass, wait
ing for the shovels of public charity
to put him five feet under. He has
only reaped what he sowed. Harvest
of wild oats! "There is a way that
seemeth right to man, but the end
thereof is death"
Young man, as you cannot live life
over again, however you may long to
do so, be sure to have your one life
right. There is some young man who
has gone away from home, perhaps
under some little spite or evil per-
suasion or another, and his parents
know not where he is. My son, go
home! Do not go to sea! Don't 60
tonight where you may be tempted
to CO. Go home! Your father will be
glad to see you, and your mother-I
need not tell you how she feels. How
would like to make your parents a
present of their hayward boy, re-
pentant and in his right mind. I
would like to write them letter, and
you carry the letter, saying: by the
blessing of God on my sermon I in
troduce to you one whom you have
never seen before, for he has become
a new creature in Christ Jesus" My
boy, go home and put your tired head
on the bosom that nursed you so
tenderly in your childhood years.
A young Scotchman was taken cap
tive in battle by band of Indians,
and he learned their language and
adopted their habits. Years passed
on, but the old Indian chieftian never
forgot that he had in his possession a
young man who did not belong to him.
Well, one day this tribe of Indians
came in sight of the Scotch regiments
from whom this young man had been
captured, and the old chieftian said:
II lost my son in battle, and know
how father feels at the loss of son.
Do you think your father is yet alive"
The young man said: 81 am the only
son of my father, and / hope he is still