Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1900-10-08


quackery of earthly wisdom. Nothing
can speak peace to the soul, nothing
can unstrap our crashing burdens,
nothing can overcome our spiritual
foes, nothing can open our eyes to see
the surrounding horses and chariots Of
salvation that fill all the mountains
but the voice and command of him
who stopped one night at Emmaus.
Nearing the Evening.
The words of the text are pertinent
to us all from the fact that we are
nearing the evening of death. l have
heard it said that we ought to live as
though each moment were to be our
last I do not believe that theory. AS
far as preparation is concerned, we
ought always to be ready, but we can
not always be thinking of death, for
we have duties in life that demand our
attention. When a man is selling
goods, it is his business to think of the
bargain he is making; when man is
pleading in the courts it is his duty to
think Of the interests of his clients;
when a clerk is adding up accounts, it
is his duty to keep his mind upon the
column of figures. He who fills up his
life with thoughts of death is far from
being the highest style of Christian. l
knew a man who used often to say at
night, 81 wish L might die before morn
ingw He is now an infidel. But there
are times when we can ana ought to
give ourselves to the contemplation OF
that solemn moment when to the soul
time ends and eternity begins. We
must go through that one pass. There
is no roundabout way, no bypath, no
circuitous route. Die we must, and it
will be to us a shameful occurrence or
time of admirable behavior. Our
friends may stretch out their hands to
keep us back, but no importation on
their part can hinder us. They might
offer large retainers, but death would
not take the fee. The breath will fail,
and the eyes will close, and the heart
will stop. You may hang the couch
with gorgeous tapestry, but what does
death care for bed curtains? You may
hang the room with the finest works OF
art, but what does death care for pic
lures? You may fill the house with the
wailings of widowhood and orphanage.
Does death mind weeping?
This ought not to be a depressing
theme. Who wants to live here fOrev-
err? The world has always treated me
well, and every day 1 feel less and less
like scolding and complaining. But yet
I would not want to make this my
eternal residence. I love to watch the
clouds and to battle my soul in the blue
sea of heaven, but | expect when the
armament is rolled away as scroll to
see a new heaven, grander, higher and
more glorious. You ought to be willing
to exchange your body that has head
aches and sideaches and weaknesses
innumerable, that limps with the stone
bruise or testers with the thorn or
flames on the funeral pyre of fevers,
for an incorruptible body and an eye
that blinks not before the jasper gates
and the great white throne. But be-
tween that and this there is an hour
about which no man should be reckless
or foolhardy. 1 doubt not your courage,
but tell you that you will want some
thing better than a strong arm, good
aim and a trusty sword when you
come to your last battle. You will
need a better robe than any you have
in your wardrobe to keep you warm in
| that place.
Shortening Days.
| T Circumstances do not make so much
| difference 1t may be bright day when
you push off from the planet, or it may
| be dark night and while the owl is
hooting from the forest. 1t may be
| spring, and your soul may go out
among the blossoms, apple orchards
| swinging their censerS in the way. 1t
! NAV be winter and the earth in snow
! shroud. 1t may be autumn and the
! forests set on fire by the retreating
year-dead nature laid out in state. 1t
may be with your wife's hand in your
| hand, or you may be in strange hotel,
| with a servant faithful to the last. 1t
| NAV be in the rail train, shot off the
switch and tumbling in long reverbera-
ton down the OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
crash! l know not the time, l know
not the mode, but the days of our life
are being subtracted away, and we
shall come down to the time when we
have but ten days left then nine days,
then eight days, then seven days, six
days, five days, four days, three days,
two days, one day. Then hours-three
hours, two hours, one hour. Then only
minutes left-fve minutes, four min
| utes, three minutes, two minutes, one
minute Then only seconds left-four
seconds, three seconds, two seconds,
one second. Gone! The chapter OF
life ended. Fhe book closed! The
pulses at rest! The feet through with
the journey! The hands closed from
all work! No word on the lips! Nc
breath in the nostrils! Hair combed
back to lie undisheveled by any human
hands, The muscles still. The nerves
still. The lungs still. The tongue still
All still You might put the stethOscOpe