St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1900-11-10

life with thoughts Of death is far
from being the highest style of Chris
tian. I knew q man who used often
to say at light: II wish might die
before mcrning!" He is now an in
fidel. But there are times when we
can and ought to give ourselves to
the contemplation Of that solemn mo-
ment when to the soul lime ends and
eternity begins. We must go through
that one pass. There is no rounda-
bout way, no bypath, no circuitous
route. Die we must, and IL will be
to us a shameful occurrence or time
OF admirable behavior. Our friends
may stretch out their hands % keep
us back, out no imploration ~ their
part can hinder us. They might offer
large retainers, but death would s0t
take the fee. The breath will fail.
and the eyes win close, and the heart
will stop. You may hang the couch
with gorgeous tapestry, but what doss
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 wailings of widow
hood and orphanage-does death mind
weeping? sa
This ought not to be . depressing
theme. Who wants to live here for
ever? The world has always treated
me well, and every day feel less and
less like scolding and complaining,
but yet I would not want to make this
my eternal residence. love to watch
the clouds and to bathe 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 headaches and side aches and
weaknesses innumerable, that Nmps
with the stone bruises or testers with
the thorn or flames on the funeral
pyre of fevers, for an incorruptible
body and an eye that blinks not be-
fore 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.
I doubt not your courage. but I tell
you that you will want something bet
ter than a, strong arm, q good aim and
a trusty sword when you come to your
last battle. You will need better
robe than any you have in your ward
robe to keep you warm In that place.
Circumstances do not make SO much
difference. It may be bright day
when you push OF 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 or
chards swinging their censers in the
way. It may be winter and the earth
in q snow shroud. 1t may be autumn
and the forests set on fire by the re-
treating 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 . servant faithful
to the last. 1t may be in the rail train,
shot of the switch and tumbling in
long reverberation down the embank-
ment-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 left.
then nine days, then eight days, five
days, four days, three days, two days.
one day. Then hours, three hours,
two hours, one hour. Then only min
utes left, FIVE minutes, four minutes,
three minutes, two minutes, one min
ute. Then only seconds left, four Sec
onds, three seconds. two seconds, one
second. Gone! The chapter of life
ended! The book closed! The pulses
at rest! The feet through with the
journey! The hands closed from all
work. No word on the lips. No
breath in the nostrils. Hair combed
back to lie undisheveled by any hui
man hands. The muscles still. Tho
nerves still. The lungs still. Tho
tongue still. All still. You might put
the stethoscope to breast and hear no
sound. You might put a 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 "a
hours. You gather about the stand.
You talk and laugh and sing. You re-
count the day. You plan for the NOR
row. You have games and repartees.
Amid all the toll Of the day that il
the goal for which you run, and Al
you take out your watch or look at
the descending sun you thrill with the
thought that it is toward evening.
So death comes to the disciple! What
if the sun of life is about to set?
Jesus is the dayspring from on high;
the perpetual morning of every ran
somed spirit. What if the darkness
comes? Jesus is the light of the world
and of Heaven. What though this
earthly house does crumble.? Jesus
has prepared house of many man.
sions. Jesus il the anchor that always
holds. Jesus is the light that is never
eclipsed. Jesus is the fountain that
is never exhausted. Jesus is the even
ing star, hung up amid the gloom OF
the gathering night.
Yoa are almost through with the
abuse and backbiting Of enemies.
They will call you no more by evil
names. Your good deeds will not
longer be misinterpreted or your hon.
or filched. The troubles of earth will
end in the felicities Of Heaven!,. To-
ward evening! The bereavements OF
earth will soon be lifted! You will
not much longer stand pouring your
grief in the tomb like Rachel weeping
for her children or David mourning
for Absalom. Broken hearts bound
up. Wounds healed. Tears wiped
away. Sorrows terminated. No moro
sounding of the dead march! Toward
evening. Death will come. sweet as
slumber to the eyelids Of the babe, a.
full rations to . starving soldier. as
evening hour to the exhausted work.
man. The sky will take on its sunset
glow, every cloud fire psalm. every
lake q CLASSY mirror: 'he forests
transfigured; delicate mists climbing
the air. Your friends will announce
it; your pulses will beat it; your joys