The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1902-02-13

not ashamed to be old. The grandest
things in all the universe are old-old
mountains, old rivers, old stars, and
an old eternity. Then do not be
ashamed to be old unless you are older
than the mountains and older than the
stars.
How men and women will lie! They
say they are forty, but they are sixty.
They say they are twenty, but they are
thirty. They say they are sixty, but
they are eighty. Glorious old age if
found in the way of righteousness!
leaning on the top OF his staff; OF John
Quincy Adams, falling with the har-
ness on; of Washington Irving, sitting,
pen in hand, amid the scenes himself
had made classical; of Theodore Fire.
linghuysen, down to feebleness and
emaciation devoting his illustrious fac
ulties to the kingdom of God. At even
tide it was light!
See that you do honor to the aged.
Smooth the way for that mothers feet;
they have not many more steps to take.
Steady those tottering limbs; they will
soon be at rest Thrust no thorn into
that old heart; it will soon cease to
beat. THE eye that mocketh it's father
and refuseth to obey it's mother the
ravens of the valley shall pick it out,
and the young eagles shall eat it,
The bright morning and hot MONDAY
of life have passed with many. 1t is
o'clock, o'clock, 6 o'clock! The
shadows fall longer and thicker and
faster. Seven o'clock, s o'clock! The
sun has dipped below the horizon; the
warmth has gone out of the air. Nine
o'clock, 10 o'clock. The heavy dews
are falling. the activities of life's day
are all hushed; it is time to go to bed.
Eleven o'clock. - o'clock! The patri
arch sleeps the blessed sleep, the cool
sleep, the long sleep Heavens mes
sensers of light have kindled bonfires
OF victory all over the heavens. All
eventime it is light. Light.
Again, my text shall find fulfllment
in the latter day of the church. Only
few missionaries. few churches, a
| few good men, compared with the in
stitutions leprous and purified. 1t
is early yet in the history of every
thing good. Civilization and Christ
ianity are just getting out of the
cradle. The light of martyr stakes,
flashing up and down the sky is but
the flaming of the morning, but when
! the evening of the world shall come,
glory to Gods conquering truth. it
| shall be light. Wars sword changing
back in the scabbard; intemperance
| buried under ten thousand broken de-
ing its brow heavenward for the bene-
diction, Blessed are the pure in
heart" the last vestige of selfishness
| submerged in heaven-d descending
charities; vagrancy coming back from
| its pollution at the call of Elizabeth
Fry's Redeemer; the mountains COM
ing down; the valleys going up; "holi-
ness inscribed on horses bell, and
silkworm's thread, and brown thrash
er's wing, and shells tinge, and manu-
| facturer's shuttle, and chemists la
boratory, and kings scepter, and ma
tons Magma Charter. Not hospital,
| for there are no wounds; not an asy-
lum. for there are no orphans; not a
prison, for there are no criminals;
not an almshouse for there are no
| paupers; not tear, for there are no
sorrows. The long dirge of earth
lamentations has ended in the trium-
phal march Of redeemed empires, the
forests harping it on vine-strung
branches. the water chanting it among
the gorges, the thunders drumming il
among the hills, the ocean giving il
forth with it's organs, trade winds
touching the keys and Euroclydon's
foot on the pedal.
| want to see John Howard when
the last prisoner is reformed: | want
to see Florence Nightingale when the
last saber wound has stobbed hurting;
want to see William Penn when the
last Indian has been civilized; | want
to see John Huss when the last flame
of persecution has been extinguished;
I want to see John Bunyan after the
last pilgrim has come to the gate OF
the celestial city-above all, l want to
see Jesus after the last saint has his
throne and has begun to sing his tri-
umph.
You have watched the calmness and
the glory of the evening hour. The
laborers have come from the field: the
heavens are glowing with an indie
scribable effulgence. as though The sun
in departing had forgotten to shut the
gate after it. All the beauty of cloud
and leaf swim in the lake. For a star
in the sky, a star in the water; heav-
en- above and heaven beneath. Not
leaf rustling or a bee humming or a
grasshopper chipping. Silence in the
meadow, silence among the hills. Thus
bright and beautiful shall be the even
ing of the world. The heats of earthly
conflicts are cool; the glory of heaven
fills all the scene with love, joy and
peace. At eventime it is light-light!
Finally my text shall and fulfillment