The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1902-05-16
REALITIES OF LIFE.
Sermon of Rev. Frank Crane, of the
Peoples Church, Chicago.
he Says the City Is Composed of
Ghosts-TeIIs What Constitutes
the Real Things-AlI Visible
Things Are But Signs.

At the Peoples church in Chicago
Rev. Frank Crane recently preached a
sermon from the subject "The Real
tiles" He took for his text the fol-
lowing:
For we look not at the things which are
seen, but at the things which are not seen;
for the things which are seen are temporal
but the things which are not seen are eter-
nall Cor. AIS
Have you ever seen city? Have you
ever seen the great city of Chicago?
AS you enter it upon the railway train
you behold miles and miles of cars
standing upon interminable tracks
that cover the earth like strands of
gigantic cobweb; you behold huge
grain elevators, modern pyramids to
the glory of commerce; factories,
whose myriad windows make them
look like theusand-eyed monsters. You
walk the streets and gaze up at great
office buildings, each containing
restless cityful of people. You listen
to the din in the streets, the rush OF
elevated trains, the clang of cable cars,
the rattle of wagons, the inchoate cry
of newsboys and vendors, all melting
into a mighty roar as of a huge cata-
ract But-have you seen the city?
No! for the city is composed essen
tally of ghosts, invisible, intangible,
soundless. The city is the wrestling
place of souls. If you could see them!
They are hoping, fearing, praying;
some are drowning their tattered SEN
sibilities in wine; some are growing
straight, sweet, fragrant as a lily;
some of them have faces like horrid
devilfish, moving in fierce ugliness; they
are despairing, rejoicing. If you could
see these invisible flames we call souls
you would perceive them running to-
gether sometimes in strange mixture
of fires, making confagrations we call
a panic, strike, revival of religion.
You read in this Bible that no man
hath seen God at any time: 1 say unto
you that no man hath seen a city at
any time. For the reality is always in
visible, silent.
Have you ever seen a home? Yonder
is a house that is called a home. Its
walls are of granite, there are French
windows, Persian rugs, lace curtains,
food imported from every cline, beds
of carved mahogany, draped with silk
and spread with fine linen. Do these
things constitute home? No; for
have been in the parlor and found it a
human cold storage vault; in the din
ing-rOom the inmates poison them
selves day after day upon suspicion and
estrangement; in the beautiful beds
all night long there toss wretched
creatures who look now at the ghost
of dead desire grinning at the head of
the bed, and now look and listen at the
raven of despoiled love that sits and
croakS at the foot of the bed.
Where is the real home? It is where
hearts ease is. It is not where we Law
off our clothes, but where we lay off
our cares. The walls of a real home are
not built of granite, but of truth and
loyalty. Unpleasant sounds, the fric-
ton of living, are not deadered by rugs
laid on polished floors, but by forbear-
ance, by patience. The curtains that
screen the sacred household gods from
the eyes of the curious are not of lace,
they are woven of discretion. The
food in the real home is not meat and
drink, but unselfshness and thought
fulness; these sustain love. The bed is
not prepared with down and damask,
but with ga conscience void of offense
toward God and toward man. The
light of the real home is not the sun
by day nor the electric globe by night,
but it is love, shining always in dear
eyes, burning always in true hearts,
clear and lambert, uneXtinguish ed by
any gusts of passion or misfortune.
Peace and security are not there be-
cause of an insurance policy, but be-
cause of simple faith in the good God
who watches over Israel and neither
slumbers nor sleeps. You cannot see
this kind of a home unless you look
at the things which are not seen and
are eternal.
Did you ever see man? Many a
specimen of the genus homo, Carlyle's
forked radish, walks about who is not
a man. 1t takes more than whiskers
and clothes to make a man. If you
would make a man upon Gods plan
you must first take, as the fundament-
al ingredient, courage; courage to do
his work faithfully, through all dis
enlargement; then, patience to go on
through defeat; then, strength to
stand always for principle and to de-
spise policy; then, largeness of heart,
so that he may do no mean thing; then,
gentleness to the erring; then, loyalty
to friends and fairness to foe; and last
of all, you must make him to be good
friend with God. Such a man may be
a hunchback, blind, deaf, deformed,
yet will he be man.
Did you ever have the good fortune,
when you were boy, to fall in love
with good woman twice your own
age? Such was my good fortune. She
was very homely; her complexion was
bad, her mouth was screwed around to
the side of her face, her hair was red
not Titan red, but an offensive red.
I was Is and she was 35. She was a
school teacher. She talked to me as an
equal and made my studies glow with
an enthusiasm for knowledge. So
when I came to know her found out
that after all she was beautiful. There
are so many women with beautiful
faces and common souls that it is a
rare pleasure to meet with a woman
with a common face and a beautiful
soul.
Old DIR. Samuel johnson, the great
mogul of English literature, was a
massive and heroic spirit; yet what
a body was he housed in! Here is what
Boswell says CT him: