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

OOWu, thinking tHdt tueIc was Uut uttI0
to do in the morning, and that the SOL
dicryHi in the fort could be easily made
to surrender. But during the night,
through a back stairs, theyescaped 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 il.
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 its coming.
One Of your children has lately be-
come . 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 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
~
ance are Intellectual. The pulse be-
comes feeble, the complexion lighter.
the step weaker, the laugh fainter.
No more romping for that onethrough
hall and parlor. The nursery is dark
ened by an approaching calamity.
The heart feels with mournful antici-
patton that the sun is going down.
Night speeds on. It is toward even
ing.
You have long reioiced 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-
changeable. 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 Cd
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. A
sudden crash Of national misfortune
prostrated your credit. You may feel
anxious about where you are stand
ing and fear that the next turn OF
the commercial wheel will bring you
PROSTATE. You foresee what you con-
slider certain defalcation. 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.
It is toward evening.
Trouble is an apothecary that mixes
. great many drafts, bitter and sour
and nauseoss, and you must drink
some one of them. Trouble puts up
a 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. Christ on the sea
to stop its tumult. Christ in the
grave to scatter the darkness. Christ
in the heavens to lead the way.
Blessed all such. His arms will in
close them, His grace comfort them,
His light cheer them, His sacrifice
free them, His glory enchant them.
II earthly estate take wings. He will
be an incorruptible treasure. II
friends die, He will be their resurrec-
ton. Standing with us in the morn
ing Of our joy and in the MONDAY Of
our prosperity. He will not forsake
us when the luster had faded and it
II toward evening.
Listen to Pauls battle shout with
misfortune. Hark to mounting Lat
liners fire song. Look at the glory
that hath reft the dungeon and filed
the earth and heavens with the crash
Of the falling manacles of despotism.
And then look at those who have tried
to cure themselves by human prescrip-
tions, attempting to heal gangrene
with patch of court plaster and to
stop the plague Of dying empires with
the quackery of earthly wisdom.
Nothing can speak peace to the soul,
nothing can unstrap our crushing
burdens, nothing can overcome our
spiritual foes, nothing can open our
eyes to Sc, the surrounding horses
and chariots of salvation that fill all
the mountains. but the voice and
command of Him who stopped one
night at Emmars.
The words of the text are pertinent
to us all from the fact that we are
nearing the evening of death. have