Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1898-08-24
NO. 81

rose from the assemhlage and started fof
the door and bawled aloud. contrasting to
n murder he had committed fifteen year,
before. And no wonder .hese Pharisees.
reminded OF their sins, took to their heels.
But what did Christ write on the groundf
The Bible does not state. Yet as Christ
never wrote anything except that once
YOU cannot blame us for wanting to know
what He really did write. But l am cer-
tain He wrote nothing trivial or nothing
unimportant. And will you allow me to
say that think / know what He wrote on
the ground? judge from the circum-
stances. He might have written other
things. but kneeling there In the Temple,
surrounded by n pack Of hypocrites who
were a self-appointed constabulary, and
having In its presence n prosecuted woman,
who evidently was very penitent Tor her
sins, am sure He wrote two words, both
of them graphic and tremendous and re-
verberating. And the one word was
Hypocrisy" and the other word was FOR
giveness."
Yes. think that one word written on
the ground that day by the finger OF
Christ was the awful word hypocrisy.
What pretensions to sanctity are the part
OF those hypocritical Phariseesl When the
fox begins to pray look out for your chick
ems. One OF the cruel magnates OF oiden
times was going to excommunicate one
Of the martyrs, and he began In the usual
form-'In the name OF God, Amen"
"Stop" says the martyr. don't say in the
name Of Godr " Yet how many outraSes
are practiced under the garb OF religion
and sanctityl When In syEods and con-
ferences, ministers o: the Gospel are about
to say something unbrotherly' and un-
kind about a member, they almost always
begin by being ostentatfously pfous, the
venom Of their assault corresponding to
the heavenly flavor of the prelude. About
to devour reputation they say grace
before meat.
But am sure there was another word
in that dust. From her entire manner 1
am sure that arraigned woman was re-
pentant She made no apology, and Christ
In nowise belittled her sin. But her sup
plicatory behavior and her tears moved
Him, and when He stopped down to write
on the ground He wrote that mighty, that
imperial word, forgiveness.
When on Sinai God wrote the law, He
wrote 1t with finger OF lightning on tables
of stone, each word cut as by chfsel into
the hard granite surface. But when He
writes the offence OF this woman He writes
1t in dust so that 1t can be easily rubbed
out and when she repents OF it-oh, He
was a merciful Christi l was reading OF a
legend that is told in the far East about
Him. He was walking through the streets
of city and He saw crowd around dead
dog And one man said: what a loath-
some object is that dogl'' Yes" said an
other, "his ears are mauled and bleeding"
yes" said another, seven his hide would
not be of any use to the tanner" YES"
said another, "the odor of his carcass Is
dreadful Then Christ, standing there,
said: "But pearls cannot equal the white
ness of his teeth Then the people, moved
by the idea that anyone could find any
thing pleasant concerning the dead dog,
said: "Why, this must be Jesus Of Naza-
rethl" Reproved and convicted, they went
away.
But while speak of Christ OF the text.
His STOPPING down writing In the dust, do
not think underrate the literature of tho
dust. 1t Is the most tremendous of all
literature. 1t is the grandest Of all libra
ries. When Layard exhumcd Nineveh he
was only opening the door Of its mighty
dust. The excavations OF Pompeii have
only been the unclasping of the lids OF
nations dust.
Where are the remains of Sennacherib and
Attila and Epaminondas and Tamerlane
and Trajan and Philip OF Macedon and
julius Caesar? Dust! Where are the
guests who danced the floors OF the Alham-
bra or the Persian palaces of Ahasuerus2
Dustl Where are the musicians who
played, or the orators who spoke and the
sculptors who chisled, and the architects
who built, In all the centuries except our
own2 Dusti Where are the most of the
books that once entranced the world?
Dust! Pliny wrote twenty books of his
tory; all lost. The most of Menander's
writings lost or one hundred and thirty
comedies of Plautus, all gone but twenty.
Euripides wrote n hundred dramas, all
gone but nineteen. Eschylus wrote hun
dred dramas, all gone but seven. Quin-
tilian wrote his favorite book on the cor
ruption OF eloquence, all lost. Thirty
books of Tacitus lost. Dion Cassius wrote
eighty books, only twenty remain. Bero-
sius's history all lost. Where there is one
living book there are a thousand dead
books.
Oh! this mighty literature of the dust II
is not so wonderful, after all, that Christ
chose, instead of an inkstand, the impress
sionable sand on the floor of an ancient
temple, and. instead Of hard pen. put
forth His foreflnger, with the same kind Of
nerve and muscle and bone and flesh as
that which makes up our own foreanger,
and wrote the awful doom of hypocrisy,
and full and complete forgiveness for re-
pentant sinners. even the worst. We talk
about the ocean of Chrlst's mercy. Put
four ships upon that ocean and let them
sail out in opposite directions for q thou
sand years, and see IL they can find the
shore of the ocean of the divine mercy. Let
them sail to the north and the south and
the east and the west, and then after the
thousand years of voyage let them come
back and they will report ''No shore, no
shore to the ocean of Gods mercy!'
And now l can believe that which read,
how that mother kept burning candle
in the window every night for ten years.
and one night, very late, poor waif on the
street entered. The aged woman said to
her, ''Sit down by the fire." and the stranger
said. "Why do you keep that light In the
Window" The aged woman said, ''That Is
to light my wayward daughter when she
returns. Since she went away, ten years
ago, my hair has turned white. Folks
blame me for worrying about her, but you
see am her mother, and sometimes, half n
dozen times n night, open the door and
look out into the darkness and cry, Liz
zie! 'Lizziel' But must not tell you any
more about my trouble, for l guess, from
the way you cry, you have trouble enough
of your own. Why, how cold and sick you
seemi Oh, my! can 1t be2 Yes, you aro
Lizzie my own lost childi Thank God that
you are home again. And what a time OF
rejoicing there was in that house that
night. And Christ again stopped down,
and In the ashes of that hearth, now lighted
up not more by the great blazing logs than
by the joy # n reunited household, wrote
the same libernting words that had been
written more than eighteen hundred years
ago in the dust of the Jerusalem temple.
Forgiveness! word broad enough and
high enough to let pass through 1t all the
armies of Heaven, million abreast, on
white horses, nostril to nostril, flank to
flank.
Relief Needed In Spain.
Countess de Casa Valencia wife OF the
former Spanish Ambassador to Great