The age-herald., 1901-03-10

Love is and was my Lord and King,
 And in his presence l attend
 To hear the tidings of my friend,
 Which every hour his couriers bring. Love is and was my King and Lord,
 And will be- tho as yet I keep
 Within his court on earth and sleep Encompass'd by his faithful guard,
 And hear at times a sentinel
 Who moves about from place to place, And whispers to the worlds of space, In the deep night, that all is well. And all is we'll tho faith and form Be sunderd in the night of fear Well roars the storm to those that hear A deeper voice across the storm. Into the best ordered and most loving lives there comes in the normal course too much of unrest to allow excuse for seeking unrestfulness, my beloved.
 Ugly and disagreeable and offensive things, conditions, and circumstances are thrust before us and around us in heart-sickening abundance, however or derly our lives and unspotted from evil within ourselves we may be. That we become acquainted with wretchedness it is not needful that we seek repulsive objects. for these are forced upon us in never-ending process sion of hideousness.
 We need not to peruse the horrible de- tails of villainy, wrongs, and nameless crimes set forth in black characters upon white paper from day to day, forming chapter upon chapter of human tragedies great and small; for by our ways through life howeIer secluded and quiet, the imps of devilry construct unsightly scenes for l our annoyance.
 One old man, gentle and cultured before men and honest before God, was wont to say he always went around or out oi sight of dsagreeable objects and condi' | tions refusing steadfastly to view any thing that was not pleasing to see; clos | ing his eyes upon unsightly scenes and | his ear to discomforting sounds. If h' | observed anything in the road he might be travelling which was not pleasant tt | look upon he changed his course. If al | the public table where be chanced to si | there was profane or otherwise unclear | language, he would quit his seat and gc
  could not reach him.
 
 And of all the forms of moral coward | ice the lowest is that which finds profant | or vulgar speech in the bearing of self | respecting persons who may not escape | In public places, wherever men may | gather, he is coward who indulges ir | violent and offending words, who relates unclean anecdotes and tells stories oi the under world of vice of which he ol another is the hero.
 There is a class of men who esteem il manifest to relate incidents that may ol may not have transpired where the scar let robes of sin rustled in brazen vice fol the gain of money. Such men place them selves outside the pale of societys mer | cy, and yet have the effrontery to speal with pure women and with men who arr void of offense that springs of the slums e
 Mahomet, darlS-eyed son of the desert who had certain qualities which ever l Christians may admire was once bidder | to work miracles in order to prove tha1 he was truly the prophet of God. Mir | no miracles-I am but plain preacher..'
 Thus q minister of the gospel of ou salvation, travelling in a public convey ance, was offended by the profane Ian guage of some over-smart young mel who were near him, and he. protested In answer to their demanded why, h. vouchsafed the information, already ap l parent to them, that he was a minister of Christ. In derision they bade him tt help himself. and continued swearing vio lently. He did help himself. He thrashe. them into humility, being man of grea | physical strength, and they cried for mer | cy. One rejoices at such militant re ligionl He was but plain preacher, a, sMahomet said of himself. but by force of arms he wrought a miracle. even .as did that false prophet of the desert. Mahomet, in the, second instance, mar ried young wife who was jealous of ths
 @ias4 s-. A 5iesrSloy sfis aIo11 bl