Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1902-06-04
FARING TowAR THE SUNSET.
BY ReY. Robf COLLIER. D. D.


! think it is not wonder, as the years
come and go, and we fare on toward the
sunset of the life that now is, the heart
in us should feel touch of dismay now
and then when we try TO imagine our
selves out Of the body but still the same
man or woman away from the world we
live in, yet still in home which viii be
homelke and welcome. and of day
when the seasons viii be no more what
they have been or the sun and the stars,
the streets on which we walk or the
homes in which we dwell
A time when we can clasp hands with
friends no NOR, in the good, familiar
fashion or hid them good morning and
good evening. 81 no more at the table
and join in the cheerful talk. go TO our
work in the morning, and when the day
stint is done 20 home, take some book
we love best to read, turn the familiar
pages with an ever new delight, and then
go to sleep through the shadowy, silent
hours, to awake again in the morning and
find that God has, made all things new.
This is indeed also true. that when you
bring the truth home to the teaching
which has gone dead against it, time out
Of miEd, it is to find that the men of a su-
prerIe power and purpose in the pulpit
men like Beecher and Bellows, and Bish-
op Brookes, to speak only of the great
dead we have known, were the most
abundantly gifted with this love and 10y
atty TO our life.
Nor is this touch of trouble met and
mastered by the thought that there may
be-will be-must he infinite blessing to
our passing into the infinite, losing our
own personal identity and becoming one
with that life, as the rain drops become
one With the ocean, or as the mist float
ing in the rainbow above Niagara is
swept down to become one again with
the water floods below.
No one thing in this universe can be
of n deeper moment to whole ana
sound man that his own proper personal
life. You may talk to him from now to
doomsday about being lost in the inhnite'
he will still cling to himself as the true
factor, and. say with very noble know:
Il should prefer hell to annihiiation."
The angels are we'll enough, but he
would not be an angel. Angels have had
no mothers to Groom over them, by what
he can make out, or fathers to romp
with them and play games. They never
fell in love when their time came, won
dering over their rare fortune, or made
homes where the children clurS about
their knees. or fought strong battles for
the truth and the right. There must be
another life to rourd this out and ciothe
it with perfection.
And So love to believe in--what shall
l call it?-the solidarity of life here and
hereafter. That | am TO be myself what
ever befalls. The myself | long to be. re-
leased from the body by death, and 10
bear with me all that is best worth Co
saving in my life down here, And that
not flower has bloomed, or a well
sprung up for my blessing, or bird
sung. or a dear friend clasped hands
with mine, or tears fallen, or laughter
rippled out of pure JOY to be forgotten.
| would be myself and myself-this soul
which has stored up the essence of all
that shall be of an immortal worth since
/ lay a babe in the cradle SO far away IN
time and space.
Jerome Garden. going over into Eng
land more than 300 years ago, says: The
English seem to have no fear of death,
but with kisses and salutations parents
and children part. The dying say that
they depart into the immortal life, that
there they shall await those they leave
behind them, while each exhorts the 9th
er to hold him in memory; so cheerfully
and without flinching they meet death. F"
So should we; so would l with the
faith in my heart of my dear old friend,
Charles Ames, who sang: