The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1903-01-02
TALNAGE
SERMON
By Rev.
FRANK DE WITT TALMAGE. DID,,
Pastor of jefferson Park Presby-
terrain Church, Chicago


day of the year, Rev. f. De Witt Tai
mage shows in how many characters
tics the Biblical comparison of life tC
the creations of the novelist's genius is
eve spend our years as a tale that is
told"
How the years are flying away! Hen
nv Clay once stood upon the top of the
Allegheny mountains in an attitude of
listening. When some one asked him
to what he was listening, the great Ken
lucky statesman in his deep, powerful,
resonant, oratorical voice answered, II
am listening to the mighty tramp of the
coming generationsr' Today we may
not have an imaginative ear keen
enough to hear the thunderous echoes
of the moving feet which shall walk
this earth two centuries or a thousand
years hence, but we can now hear the
pattering feet of the muItitudes of
school children. We may hear, too, the
rumbling of the hearses, which shall
sooner or later carry ont our dead bod
les to the newly dug graves. We hear
the memorable warning that in few
years or perhaps even in the coming
year of 1903 we shall look upon the ris-
ing sun for the last time Then our
bedrooms, where we have often slept
and laughed and cried, shall be called
the chambers of death. Dear old year
of 1902! 1t seemed only yesterday that
we welcomed thee into the world In a
few days, with thy snow white hair
and shriveled form and pallid cheek
and trembling limb, we shall have to
carry thee out and lay thee away until
we meet thy condemning or approving
face at the judgment seat Of heaven.
The inspired psalmist, considering
the passing of an earthly life, uses
beautiful smile. Moses. to whom the
psalm is ascribed, was not only a great
legislator and a powerful leader, but
poet. He not only opened path
across the Red sea with his rod, but he
cut a sure path into the gratitude and
by the sharp point of his pen. Thus
the ancient author, who was pioneer
in the making of books, compared the
earthly existence of every human life
ito a tale that is told" The seconds
are the letters. The minutes are the
words. The hours are the sentences.
The days are the paragraphs. The
weeks are the pages. The months are
the chapters. The years are the books!
The whole number of different books
of the human story of life, like the five
different books of Victor Hugo's great
novel, LES MiserableS," are bound to-
gether in one big volume, with a slat
from the cradle to serve for one cover
and a toni stone used for the other
cover. May God help me on this last
Sabbath of the dying year to interpret
Alright how 1--WE spend our years as a
tale that is told"
The Beginning of the Tale.
Every tale, whether fictitious or no,
has a bright or sad beginning. In al
most the first words which the narrator
speaks he introduces his listeners to the
hero or the heroine. Sometimes he rocks
that hero's cradle down among the
among the SHOWS of the New
England hills or in palace of Europe,
where the prince or princess was born
But, though many heroes and heroineS
of fictitious tales may have had unhap-
by childhood influences, | do not be-
lieve it was thus with us. The bright
est passages of the tale of life" when
applied to our own biographies are to
be found for the most part in those first
days which we spent in the old home
stead. We never had those huge mon
sterS, the sons of Tartarus and Terra.
to storm our nurseries; we never had q
guardian, a King Richard
to incarcerate us in a dungeon or a
tiendish Martha of GOethe's Faust"
for a nurse Our infantile playground
was more like the Delectable mountains
of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress"
as most of our lives have
started amid such purified surround
ings, it is no more than right to expect
that our stories of life should be pure
and true and noble tales.
But, alas, no sooner We're we born
md grown into young manhood and
Than the current of our
ives led us away from the purities of
'ur youthful home circle. They led
IS into the haunts of sin and into the
old, damp, dark caverns of Selfishness.
You know there are books numbered
Imong the masterpieces of literature
which you, as wise parent would
lot allow in your home. You say to
our wife: "'Childe Harold may be
he most wonderful portraiture Lord
Byron ever wrote. but it is a character
t sin and infamy. 1t is a character
lowing with poetic Imagination. but
character with the worm that never
les sucking at its heart. Our chill
rem should not be allowed to read its
ages" There are stories which are
OF fitted for public ears. Our biogra-
HES cannot be told to the world at
lrge. The beautiful ancient ballad of
The Marriage of Sir Gawain' de-
tribes how the cavalier of old took
} himself in marriage a hideous wom-
n called the ''loathly lady" merely be-
iuse HO Oue elSe Wouiu marry her.
S soon as the "loathly lady" was we'd
I'd she Immediately changed into a
tide of the most winsome loneliness,
goes the stOry-that mar
age ring was able to enchain malig-
int enchanter who had been cursing
n life heretofore. Alas. "The Mar
lge of Sir Gawain" has been reversed
many of our E'as. Most of us came
nth fair and beautiful from a Chris
an mothers nursery Fair and beau
full though we once we're. we accept
for our guide the proffered hand of
D. Then in the sight of God and all
,aven we became, like the "loathly
dy," accused by the evil past in
hfob we had lived No matter how