Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1899-01-23

ing to give us for all this2" 'Wel,
he replied, 81 don't know what else
you will get, but you will get hunger
and cold and wounds and death How
do you like it2' His men stood before
him for little while in silence, and
then they threw up their hands and
cried: eve are the menl We are the
menu The Lord Jesus Christ calls you
to his service I do not promise you an
easy time in this world. You may have
prosecutions and trials and misrepre-
sentations but afterward there comes
an eternal weight of glory, and you can
bear the wounds, and the bruises, and
the misrepresentation, if you can have
the reward afterward Have you not
enough enthusiasm to cry'out: eve are
the men We are the menl'
I learn also from this subject the
danger of worldly elevation. This Eglon
was what the world called great man.
There were hundreds of people who
would have considered it the greatest
honor of their life just to have him
speak to them, yet although he is so
high up il worldly position he is not
beyond the reach Of Ehud's dagger.
see a great many people trying to climb
up in social position, having an idea
that there is a safe place somewhere far
above, not knowing that the mountain
of fame has a top like Mont Blanc, Gov
cred with perpetual snow.
We laugh at the children of Shinar
for trying to build tower that could
reach to the heavens, but I think if our
eyesight were only good enough we
could see q Babel in many a dooryard,
Oh, the struggle is fiercei 1t is store
| against store, house against house,
street againt street, nation against ma
ton. The goal for which men are run
ming isochairs and chandeliers and mir
Tors and houses and lands and presiden
aial equipments. If they get what they
anticipate, what have they9 Men are
not safe from calumny while they live,
and, worse than that, they are not safe
after they are dead, for I have seen
swine root up graveyards. One day
man goes up into publicity, and the
world does him honor, and people climb
| upinto sycamore trees to watch him as
| he passes, and as he goes along on the
| shoulders of the people there is a wav-
| ing of hats and wild huzza. Tomor-
row the same man is caught between
| the jaws of the printing press and man
.gled and bruised, and the very same
persons who applauded him before cry
"EDown with the traitori Down with
| lhim!''
Belshazzar sits at the feast, the
mighty men of Babylon sitting all
around him. Wit sparkles like the wine,
and the wine like the wit. Music rolls
o,,oOpcr +I,o oaonJo1iorC- ba oh
liers flash down on the decanters. The
breath of hanging gardens floats in on
! the night all ; the voice Of revelry floats
/ out. Amid wreaths, and tapestry, an
folded banners, a finger writes. The
march of a host is heard on the stairs.
Laughter catches in the throat. A thou
sand hearts stop beating. The blow is
struck. The blood on the floor is richer
hued than the wine on the table. The
kingdom has departed. Belshazzar was
no worse, perhaps, than hundreds of
people in Babylon, but his position slew
him. Oh, be content with just such a
position as God has placed you in. It
| may not be said of u.s. 'EHe was a great
general, " or 'EHe was an honOred chief
tain," or HE was mighty in worldly
attachments, but this thing may be
said of you and of me, 'fHe was good
citizen, a faithful Christian, friend
of Jeas." And that in the last day
will be the highest of all eulogiums
I learn further from this subject that
death comes to the summer house. Egg
Ion did not expect to die in that fine
place. Amid all the flower leaves thai
drifted like summer snow into the win
in, no ir1-1 a 4lo
fountains; in the sound of a thousand
leaves futing on one tree branch; in
the cool breeze that came up to shake
Efeverish trouble out Of the kings locks
there was nothing that spake OF
death, but there he diedi In the winter,
when the snow is shroud, and when
rthe wind is dirge, it is easy to think
gof our mortality; but when the weather
ms pleasant, and all our surroundings
are agreeable, how difficult it is for us
ITO appreciate the truth that we are
nortali And yet my text teaches that
death does sometimes come to the sum-
mer house. He is blind, and cannot see
the leaves. He is deaf, and cannot hear
the fountains Oh, if death would ask
us for victims, we could point him to
hundreds of people who would rejoice
to have him come. Push back the door
Of that howell Look at that little child
cold, and sick, and hungry. 1t has
never heard the name of God but in
blasphemy. Parents intoxicated, stag
gering around its straw bed. Oh, death,
there is mark for thee! Up with it into
the lghtl Before those little feet STUN
BILE on LIES pathway, give them rest
Here is an aged man. He has done
his work. He has done it gloriously
The companions of his youth all gone,
his Children dead, he longs to be at rest,
4u