The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1903-03-10

| in us. yet that vital force is there "
birth ard In the mothers arms she child
| lies gazing blankly, a silent messenger
| from far-off world. Unmoved alike by
hate. scorn, envy. love. The hand red
| with blood and the hand gentle with a
mothers tenderness are the same 10 IT.
but not in their mystery. For there Is
| nothing more unknown there than
| here. Everything is new, strange. EverS-
thing Is old familiar There is no sense
| OF contrast. Black and white, sin and
| righteousness heaven and hell, all one
| Then swift tides bear the helpless chlld
and on. Old age comes. The vital spark
| still burns.
CRADLE AND OPENING GRAVE.
The same flame. the same energy. but
what infinite stretches lie between the
cradle and the opening grave. Ihe con.
into our souls. Hate has wrent US ana
love has santified us, Against SIN without
and within us we have fought and grown
weary. We have felt mems scorn, been
moved by their envy and our souls have
burned within us Friendship has bound
us TO another. discipleship has<sfet us AT
into the pathways and beside the hedge
rows OF the lowly and the scars there
have become precious.
All these have entered I'm TO make mp
life. What there was before was only
the cup without the wine. the shell with
out the acorn, the aiabaster eek without
w
or heard before, and now we project our
thoughts into the stars. we are moved
with the melodies of natures rhythm
and the songs sung by human Ups. A
thousand voices speak to us and from
near and far float into our souls the
things for which we hope and sigh
bonds, cut the ties OF memory, blacken
hope. blot out love, let home go and
children die and possessions vanish as In
| Jobs case. and what Is life? The vital
| spark. though 1t still flames. pollutes. The
vessel which has held tho content has
| become foul and despised. Life which
| before was n blessing seems curse
! Jobs wife was right. curse God ana die.
Tell us not there is one sacred spot where
God will not allow the powers OF eyli TO
enter and that is life itself. For when
the hope OF the future is gone and the
memory of the past is but a cruel taunt
and the possessions OF the present are
swept away in the tempest and we stand
alone, the wrecked, impoverished, self
conscious only OF Its own; pain; feels that
life is something that bites like ser
pent and stings like an adder.
Not on some desert Isle, my friends,
castaway alone. for even there there is
the hope OF passing sail does this ar, an
Here. here in the midst OF JOY and
friendships and loves rejoicing in peace
and plenty. here It is the iron enters our
souls. Our night IL all the darker be-
cause OF their day. In the lightness OF
their laughter twice heavy becomes our
sorrow
still within us the sense OF what lifo |
might be. Men do not seek TO escape |
life in such cases as these. Rather do |
they cling TO IL with the abandon OF |
despair. and II is just this utter abJect |
hopelessness OF life confronted with the |
desire to live that constitutes LIES pain |
and anguish,
JOBS EXPERIENCE.
You tell mo that this is no common
experience. IL does not voice our present |
al aNN brNA HHNaa sah N
such lonesomeness and woe. Are you
quite sure OF this2 This was Jobs ex-
perience. If this church and no other
church draws out of the heights or the
dregs OF human society. those whose
lives inwardly are as dark and hopeless |
az this we have painted. then all that
can be said is, so much the worse con-
demnation for the church.
our hermit spirits dwell and range |
apart: We know too well how we clothe
ourselves before men that we may hide
our sorrows and our burdens. We never |
know how damp the lashes are of ~es
that smile or how broken the heart IL
that peals with laughter. We may not ,
voice here the feelings OF any one soul |
now, but this may voice the feelings OF |
anyone OF you tomorrow. Says a recent |
writer, speaking OF the vanities and vex-
less failures ia the last resort. The sanest
and best or us are OF one clay with luna
tics and prison inmates and death nm
ally runs tho robustest OF us down"
Hamlet begins thus: What "A piece or
work IL man. How noble I'm reason! How
Infinite In faculty, I'm form and moving.
How express and admirable in action!
How like an angel! In apprehension how
like God. the beauty OF the world. the
paragon OF animals!' Hamlet ends thus: !
And yet TO me. what Is this quintes-
sence OF dust7"
II IL not necessary for you 10 be the
one driven TO the wall ia this battle OF
IL Is not necessary that you turn from
present OF peace and plenty TO contem-
death and the utter abandon OF weaknCts
Ia IL. IL Is not necessary that we 20
here and there and search among hign
and low through all grades OF society
and count the number tempted by lifes
wreckage to curse God and die.
THE SOULS CONDITION.
II II necessary for you and the world
ts one such soul IN Gods universe tnen
6od or the universe or society, whichever
you may choose. is In some measure re-
sponSible for that souls condition.
III We are built upon so fragile plan /
mat every north breeze skaters us II
We walk on 80 narrow a plank that every
so constituted that the blast comes ana
our footing is shifted beneath up and /
mere Is no hope then let MS agree with
worst possible of all worlds
~ there ~ no place here FOR the man
w. W. T TfS rUwr7' rrJTEfIp1 uy n1srOrtune and {
-tstf - ttt'Af - itN NNlt OF heaven TO IN !
spire him or hand stronger than human
70 help him then this is a Goddess world /
l.eh leh ne not OF The hand that holds plan
cts OF tho fingers that paint sunsets OF
the strength that lifts up mountains 1his
ls mol the God We seek. and N this too AL
the blankness Of heaven Is only equalleo )
BY the emptiness OF our faith.
1 w1nt 10 turn 90 the world this morn
ing VOID or religious bOasting or az least
satisfied with its non-religion and ask n
one question should Ike 20 put An 10
the men who say. as some do say N. that