The St. Johns herald., 1900-09-15
AN ORIENTAL ILLUSTRATION.
The Giseh Sphinx Mute and Silent Yet It Speaketh Divine Lesson
 for the Human Soul.

A story has been written of a woman who in girlhood had great ambitions and corresponding plans, but who, to the end of her days, was subjected to such mysterious interferences that her actual life turned out to be the exact reverse of all she had planned and hoped. Her passion was painting and her ambition was to paint into the face of the sphinx true answer to its own question of life. It was to be mys- tery solved, riddle guessed. All the spare moments of many years were given to the brush, and this brush was given almost wholly to this one face, in which she sought to mingle spirit uality, intelligence, benevolence and faith, for in the proper proportion and blending of these she saw the secret of perfect life. Her task was yet unac- complished when her days were end ing, and in the unfinished face could be read her own sad history.
 Hers is an oft-told tale, beginning with an uncongenial marriage, fol- lowed by frettings over interruptions, quarrelings with environments, ques- tioning providences and listening to answers she did not understand, then finally settling down hopelessly, sul- lenly to the inevitable.
 Such story as this comes quickly to mind when one stands before the Gizeh sphinx and looks into it's immor- tai face. There is probably no his torical connection between this Egyp- tian giant and the fabled Grecian mon- ster who propounded riddles to trav- elers and devoured those who could not guess, yet the stone sphinx is no less an embodiment of mystery than the Grecian.
 Who brought into being this prodigy of the desert? What is it's age? Its use? Is it god, king, monument or tomb? Answering is guessing. It was born out of the solid rock, lay buried for centuries among the tombs, was raised from the dead. In body it is lion, in head it is man. Once it wore the hood of royalty, now only a wig remains. It defies time, yet is time worn, and every breeze carries earth to it's burial.
 The strange thing about this sphinx is that while it is changeless as rock it is yet never the same. Its expression differs with every light and shade. No two negatives are exactly alike. Those hollow eyes look far away to the Mo- llattam hills, whence rises the sun, and as the earliest light of morn warns the broken features the old face wakes from it's night of Sleep with quiet, hopeful, human smile, as though, even after 30 centuries, life was yet worth living. At midday, when the sun is high, those same features cast deep shadows, the face looks worn and wrinkled and the eyes seem tired of their everlasting gaze. At evening. when the day is dying and the twilight deepens into night, when it's back is turned upon the sun, the countenance is dark with gloomy forebodings and the crouching lion seems about to bounce upon its prey.
 Many learned books have been writ woman who sought to paint the per- feet face. One calls it fate, another folly, but neither guesses right. The stone sphinx of the Lybian hills can answer better. He who would under stand the mysteries of human life must take the far-away look, the pa tient, hopeful, heavenward gaze, for things far interpret things near and eternity mends the broken links of time; he must bathe his face in the light that lighteth every man that cometh into tbe world, for he who turns his back upon the Sun of Right eousness walks in his own shadow into ever deepening darkness. As there is no color without the light, so is there no peace without the Christ. This was the bulGen of the song when the sweet singer of Israel sang: with Thee is the fountain of life, in Thy light shall we see light" t."-Rev. Gilbert Frederick, D. D., in Chicago Standard.