The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1900-10-18

more rompinc for that one through hall
and parlor The nursery is darkened by
an approaching calamity. The heart feels
with mournful anticipation that the sun
is going down. Night speeds on. 1t IS to-
ward evening.
You have long rejoiced in the care Of a
mother; Won have done everything to
make her last days happy; you have run
with quick feet to wait upon her ever,
want. Her presence has been a perpetual
blessing in the household. But the fruit
catherers are looking wistfully at that
tree Her soul is ripe for heaven. The
gates are ready to fash open for her en-
trance. But your soul sinks at the thought
Of separation. You cannot bear to think
that soon you will be called to take the
last look at that face, which from the first
hour has looked upon you with affection
interchangeable. But you see that lie is
ebbine. and the grave will soon hide her
from your sight You sit quiet: you feel
heavy hearted. The light is fading from
the sky; the air is chill. 1t is toward
evening.
The words of the text are pertinent to
us all from the fact that we are. nearing
the evening of death. / have heard 1t
said that we ought TO live as though each
moment were to be our last. [ do not be-
lieve that theory. As far as preparation
is concerned we OUGHT always to be ready:
but we cannot always be thinking OF
death. for we have duties in life that de-
mand our attention. >,
When a man is selling goods it is his
business to think of the bargain he IS
making: when a man is nleading in the
courts. if is his duty to think of the in
terests of his clients; when clerk is add
inc M accounts it is his duty to keep has
mind upon the column of figures. He who
fills 10 his life with thoughts of death is
far from being the highest style OF CHRIS
tan. I knew man who used often to
say at nioht II wish I might die before
morning." He is now an inhdel.
But there are times when We can ana
ought to give ourselves to the contemp!a-
ton of that solemn moment when to the
soul time endsand eternity begins. We.must
90 through that one pass. There IS no
roundabout way. no bypath, no circultous
route Die we must. and it will be to us
a shameful occurrence or time OF admir-
able behavior. Our friends may stretch
out their hands to keep us back. but no
irplo2ation on their part can hinder US
They might offer large retaners, but
death would not take the fee. The breath
viii fail and the eyes viii close. and the
heart viii 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 pictures!
You may fill the house with the waIhngs
Of widowhood and orphanage. Does death
mind weeping?
Listen to Paul's battle shout with mis-
fortune bark to mounting JaumerS nre
song: lool: at the glory that hath reft the
dungeon and filed the earth and heavens
with the crash Of the falling MANAGES OF
despotism and then look at those who
have tried to cure themselves by human
prescriptions, attempting to heal gan
creme with patch Of court plaster and to
stop the plague CT dying empires with the
quackery of earthly wisdom. Nothing can
speak peace to the soul. nothing can I'M
strap our crushing burdens, nothing can
overcome our spiritual foes, nothing can
omen our eyes to see the surrounding
horses and chariots of salvation that I'LL
all the mountains but the voice and com
mand of Him who stopped one night at
Emmaus.
You ought to be wiling to exchange
your body that has headaches and side
aches 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
eve that blinks not before the Jasper gates
and the great white throne. But between
that and this there is an hour about which
no man should be reckless or foolhardy
| doubt not your courage, but l tell you
that YOU will want something better than
a strong arm. good aim and a trusty
sword when you come to your last battle.
You will need better robe than any you
have in your wardrobe to keep you warm
in that place.
Circumstances do not make so much diff
ference. 1t may be bright day when you
push off from the planet, or it may be
dark night and while the owl is hootlng
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 may be winter and the earth
in a snow shroud 1t may be autumn and
the forests set on fire by the retreating
ycal-dead nature laid out IN state. 1t
may be with your wife's hand in your
hand, or you may be in a strange hotel,
with a servant faithful to the last 1t
may be in the rail train, shot OIL the
switch and tumbling in long reverberation
down the embaukment-crash, crash!
| know not the time, | 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
lett, then nine days, then eight days, then
seven days, six days, five days, four days,
three days, two days, ore day. Then
hours,-three hours, two hours, one hour
Then only minutes lefe-hve minutes, four
minute. Then only seconds left-four sec
onds, three seconds two seconds, one sec
ond Gone! The chapter Of lie ended!
The book closed! The pulses at rest! The
feet through with the journey! The
hands closed from all work! No word ON
the bps. No breath in the nostrils Hair
combed back TO lie undisheyeled by any
human hands The muscles still. The
nerves still. The lungs still. The tongue
still All still. You might put the steth-
oscope to breast and hear no sound. You
might put speaking trumpet to the ear,
but you could not wake the deafness. No
motion No throb No life. Still! Still!
On earth with many OF you the evening
is the happiest part Of the twenty-four
hours. You gather about the stand You
talk and laugh and sing. You recount the
day. You plan for the morrow. You
have games and repartees. Amid all the
toll OF the day that is the goal for which
You run, and as you take out your watch
or look at the descending sun you thrill
With the thought that it is toward even
ing So death comes to the disciple
What ii the sun of life is about to set?
Jesus is the dayspring from on high, the
perpetual morning of every ransomed
SPIRIT What ii the darkness comes?