The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1904-04-14
A SERMON FOR SUNDAY
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE BY THE
REV. Or, HOWARD DUFFIELD.

REV. Or, HOWARD DUFFIELD.
Subject: Footmen and Horses Livery
Man Hears at Times in His Soul
Resembling Cry Which Beckons Him
to His Highest Destiny.
New YORK CITY. - DR.. Howard Duf-
field, pastor of the Old First Presbyterian
Church, Fifth avenue and Twelfth street;
preached Sunday on "Footmen ana
Horses He took his text from jeremiah
Kills. DR.. Dufield said:
1t is healthful for us to test our hopes
to-day as experience shall test them Tor US
tomorrow. Sauarely, individually and i'm
mediatelv let us face the challenge of Jer-
emy. the prophet: eff thou runnest will,
the footmen, and they have wearied thee:
then how canst thou contend with horses
Let us first study the pursuit of happl-
ness. The pursuit of happiness is intense
and universal and rightful. The pursuit
of happiness has enlisted the unwearled
energy of the most of men throughout all
time. Pleasure surely cannot be very
hard problem to solve. Certainly 1t can be
no difficult thing to win happiness. Brave
and bonny is this pleasure house of an
earth IN which we live. Dazzling bright is
this Vanity Fair of a word in which the
lot of mortals Is cast. It's booths are most
alluring. Its wares are most seductive:
skillful are its traders, and eager faced ITS
throngs OF buyers. Behold the simmer.
ing fash of its gems and the rich rustic OF
it's soft silks! Hearken to the sweet notes
of its music and the golden chink of its
coin! Lend your ear to the rhythmic beat
of its dance and the gladsome rapture OF
its revel. Mark the gleam OF its flashing
ewes! Heed the spell of its silvery laugh
ter! The idea that this world is not a
minister of happiness is hermit logic; is
the grabbed fruit of cloistered seclusion; is
the harsh inference of Purltanic prejudice.
The siren voices of the world are ever
summoning men to wealth OF pleasures
pleasures Of the palate, pleasures OF the
passions, pleasures of the intellect. The
blaring trumpets of the world are ever
heralding the triumph of its votarles as
crowned with laurels and clasping the
brimming cup of its satisfaction. one and
another ascends the throne of its DOMINION.
Very well, point me out the happy ones.
Those smile-wreathed lips repress rising
sigh. Those laughter-lightsd eyes but mask
a wearied heart. The glitter IS tinsel The
trappings are fustian. The ornament is
stucco. The mirth is hollow hearted. Do
you not know that those men who have
filled all of fortunes Golfers are the most
brain wearied and heart burdened of the
children of the earth, in their effort to fill
one more? Have you never learned that
the man who has climbed the throne is
smitten with heart sickness because there
is some Naboth's vineyard unpossessed?
Has it never been told you that man may
wear the jeweled tokens OF kings favor
and vet writhe under the pang or disap-
pointment because some beggar Mordecai
stands in the palace gate? If not, let me
put in evidence the testimony OF competent
witnesses. Listen to that pampered pet of
fortune, bedecked with the insignia of
English nobility, and standing upon the
pinnacle of earth-given happiness. In the
swiftest swing of pleasures whirlpool, IN
the very heyday of life, upon his thirty
sixth birthday. Lord Byron wrote:
"My days are in the Yellow leaf,
The flowers and fruits of love are gone,
The worm, the canker and the grief
Are mine alone"
Recall the words of Chesterfield, who
reduced the pursuit of happiness to a fine
art, and had taken every degree in the
freemasonry of human pleasure: Il have
been behind the scenes, have seen all the
coarse pulleys and the dirty ropes which
move the gaudy machinery, and l have
smeIed the tallow candles which illumin-
ate the hollow decorations to the astonish-
ment of an ignorant audience" Listen to
the peevish wall of Heine, that richly
gifted poet, critic and master thinker who
wrote in his diary: What lists it 20 me
that at banquets my health is drunk out Ct
golden goblets and in the best of wine, it
/, myself, separated from all the joy of the
world, can only ,moisten my lips with the
physicians potion? What lists it to me
that enthusiastic youths and damsels
crown my marble bust with laurels. when
on my real head blister is being clapped
by my old sick nurse? What lists it to me
that the roses of Shiraz glow and smel!
never so sweetly? Alas, Shiraz is 600 miles
from Rue PAmsterdan, where get moth.
ing to smell in the melancholy solitude OF
my sick room but the aroma of warm pou!,,
tices." Behold the trophies of tn, world
are wetted with rain of tears! The re-
verberating plaudits which greet the
worlds successes only serve to waken the
wa;iing echo, Vanity Of vanity, it ali is
vanity"
The works OF earth are frail. Its jewels
lose their fire. The iuSter OF its gold will
tarnish Its gariands will wither and their
bloom and fragrance will vanish away.
What shall that man do who cannot taste
delight in the midst of his pleasures, when
the lights of the revel begin to grow dim,
and sorrow as with harpy's hand, sweeps
bare thee banquet board, and amid the
gathering shadows the fingers of destiny
begin to write doom sentences upon the
wall: What is that man to do who cannot
pack single hour with una!loyed pleasure,
when he crosses the threshold OF long,
long eternity: Do not blink the question.
Meet its thrust fairly. IF you cannot run
with footmen how will you contend with
horses"
Apply another test. There is deeper
longing in many minds than the thirst for
pleasure. 1t is the craving for truth.
There is genuine grandeur in the achieve
ments of the intellect. The coronet of cul-
cure is brighter far than kings diadem.
The robes of mental royalty are more i'm
perial than the mantle OF Caesar.
1t would seem as though the mind mon
archs OF the present age had realized that
dream OF the Hebrew boz in the olden
tire, when sun and moon aud stars bowed
down 10 Go obcsiance. 1t would seem as
1!,nuon he r-iHcrly thinkers of the nres-