Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1903-01-01
TALMAGE
SERMON
By Rev.
FRANK DE WITT TALMAGE. DID,.
Pastor OF Jefferson Park Presby-
terrain Church, Chicago

Chicago, Dec. % 49, In the following
discourse, appropriate TO the last Sun
day of the year. Rev. +. De Witt Tai
mage shows in how many characters
tics the Biblical comparison Of life to
the creations Of the novelist's genius Is
justified The text is Psalm xc, 8,
1--WE 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 generations 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 thousand
years hence, but we can now hear the
pattcring feet of the multitudes of
school children. We may hear, too, the
rumbing of the hearses, which shall
sooner or later carry out our dead bod
les to the newly dug graves. We hear
The inexorable warning that in a few
years or perhaps even in the coming
year Of 1908 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 ard lay thee away until
we meet thy condenning or approving
face at the judgment seat Of heaven.
The inspired psalmist, considering
the passing OF an earthly life. uses a
beautiful simile. Moses TO whom the
psalm is ascribed was not only a great
legislator and Il powerful leader, but a
poet He not only opened path
across the Red sea with his rod, but he
cut sure path into the gratitude and
affection of all good men and women
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 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.
-hol hnr Of l.c
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 Stat
from the cradle to serve for one cover
and a tombstone used for the other
cover. May God help me on this last
Sabbath of the dying year to interpret
Alright how I'VE spend our years as a
tale that is told"
The beginning of the Tale.
Every tale, whether fictitious or no,
has 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
planta tons Of Louisiana or Georgia,
sometimes among the SHOWS Of the New
England hills or in a palace Of Europe
where the prince or princess was born.
But, though many heroes and heroines
Of fictitious tales may have had unhap-
py childhood influences, | do not be-
heve 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 a
murderous guardian, King Richard,
TO incarcerate us in a dungeon or a
fiendish Martha of Goethes Faust
for nurse. Our infantile playground
was more like the Detachable mountains
of Bunyans "Piigrim's Progress"
Therefore, 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 were we born
and grown into young manhood and
Womanhood than the current of our
lives led us away from the purities of
our youthful home circle. They led
us into the haunts of sin and into the
cold, damp. dark caverns of selfishness.
You know there are books numbered
among the masterpieces of literature
which you, as a wise parent, would
not allow In your home. You say to
your wife: 'Childe Harold may be
the most wonderful portraiture Lord
Byron ever wrote, but 1t Is a character
of sin and infamy. 1t is character
glowing with poetic imagination, but
dies sucking at its heart. Our chill.
dren should not be allowed TO read its
pages" There are stories which are
not fitted for public ears. Our biogra,
phies cannot be told to the world at
large The beautiful ancient ballad of
1.-THE Marriage of Sir Gawain" de
scribes how the cavalier of old took
to himself in marriage hideous WON
an called the 'loathly lady merely be
cause no one else would marry her
AS soon as the '1oathly lady" was wed
ded she Immediately changed into 8
bride of the most winsone lovellness
because-so goes the story-that mar
rage ring was able to enchain malig
nant anchantGr who had been cursinl