The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1900-10-12

| the martyrs TO De 0rm Wn6n one WOrQ
of recantation would have unfastened
] the withes of the stake and put out the
kindling fire?
| When the night of the soul came on
and all the denizens of darkness came
riding upon the winds of perdition. who
gave strength to the soul? Who gave
calmness to the heart? Who broke the
| spell of internal enchantment? He who
| heard the request of the villagers:
abide with US, for it is toward even
| ing" One of the forts of France was
attacked and the outworks were taken
| before night. The besieging army lay
! down, thinking that there was but little
to do in the morning, and that the sol
| diery in the fort could be easily made
to surrender. But during the night,
through a back stairs, they escaped into
the country. In the morning the be-
| sieging army sprang upon the battle
ments, but found that their prey was
gone. So when we are assaulted by
| temptation, there is always some Sc
cret stair by which we might get off.
| God will not allow us to be tempted
above what we are able, but with every
temptation will bring way of escape
that we may be able to bear it.
The prayer of the text is appropri-
ate for all who are anticipating sor-
row. The greatest folly that ever
grew on this planet is the tendency
to borrow trouble But there are
times when approaching sorrow is so
evident that we need to be making
especial preparations for it's coming.
| One of your children has lately be-
come a favorite. The cry of that
child strikes deeper into the heart
than the cry of all the others. You
| think more about it. You give it
more attention, not because it is any
more of a treasure than the others,
| but because it is becoming frail.
| There is something in the cheek, in
| the eye and in the walk that makes
you quite sure that the leaves of the
flower are going to De scattered. The
utmost nursing and medical attend
ance are Intellectual The pulse be-
comes feeble, the complexion lighter,
the step weaker, the laugh fainter.
No more romping for that one through
! hall and parlor. The nursery is dark
ened by an approaching calamity.
patton that the sun is going down.
Night speeds on. 1t is toward even
ing.
You have long rejoiced in the care
of mother. You have done every
| thing to make her last days happy.
You have run with quick feet to wait
upon her every want. Her presence
has been a perpetual blessing in the
household. But the fruit gatherers
are looking wistfully at that tree
Her soul is ripe for Heaven. The
gates are ready to flash open for her
entrance. 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 un-
changeabIe. But you see that life is
ebbing 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.
You had a considerable estate and
! felt independent. In five minutes op
one fair balance sheet you could see
! just how you stood with the world.
But there came complications; some
thing that you imagined impossible
happened. The best friend you had
proved traitor to your interests.
sudden crash of national misfortune
prostrated your credit. You may feel
anxious about where you are stand
| ing and fear that the LeXt turn of
| the commercial wheel will bring you
PROSTATE. You foresee what you con-
slider certain defaIcation. You think
of the anguish of telling your friends
that you are not worth dollar You
know not how you will ever bring
your children home from school. You
wonder how you will stand the sell
ing of your library or the moving
into a palmer house. The misfor-
tunes of life have accumulated. You
wonder what makes the sky so dark.
| 1t is toward evening.
| Trouble is an apothecary that mixes
great many drafts, bitter and sour
and nauseous, and you must drink
some one of them. Trouble puts up
great many packs, and you must
carry some one of them. There is no
sandal so thick and well adjusted but
some thorn will strike through it.
There is no sound so sweet but the
undertaker's screwdriver CRATES
| through it. In this swift shuttle of
the heart some of the threads must
break. The journey from Jerusalem
to Emmaus will soon be ended. Our
| Bible, our common sense, our observ-
alton, reiterate in tones that we can
not mistake and ought not to disre-
gard, it is toward evening.
Oh, then, for Jesus to abide with us!
He sweetens the cup. He extracts the
| thorn. He wipes the tear. He bushes
the tempest. He soothes the soul that
flies to him for shelter. Let the night
swoop and the Euroclydon, toss the
sea. Let the thunders roll. Soon all
will be well. Christ in the ship to
soothe His friends.
The words of the text are pertinent
| to us all from the fact that we are
nearing the evening of death. I have
heard it said that we ought to live
as though each moment were to be
our last. I do not believe that the
ory. AS far as preparation is con-
cerned, we ought always to be Teady.
But we cannot always be thinking
of death, for we have duties in life
| that demand our attention. When
| man is selling goods, it is his bust
ness to think of the bargain he is
making. When a man is pleading in
the, courts, it is his duty to think of
the interests of his clients. When
clerk is adding up accounts, it is his
I L