The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1909-11-26


in the Grace Episcopal church by the
combined congregation of the Meth
odist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Bap-
tist and Episcopal churches. The
Rector, Rev. Whitaker, conducted
the services, Revs. Wendell and Coe-
men assisting, while Rev. DR.. Swift
preached the sermon. The choir
rendered excellent and appropriate
music. The collection taken was for
the benefit of st. Luke's Hospital.
The church was tastilly decorated
with autumn fruits. The congrega-
tion was very large and were treated
to an excellent discourse by DR..
Swift who prefaced his sermon with
the following remarks:
1 would be altogether untrue to
myself and lost to every whisper of
honor If did not publicly express
my keen appreciation of the invita-
tion from the scholarly, genial,
broad-minded Rector of this church
to speak from this pulpit to-day. 1
see in it no personal crown with
which to deck my own brow, but one
of the largest causes for thanksgiv-
ing, in the breaking down of the
barriers that have stood in the way
of Christian fellowship not only, but
this manifest true oneness of the
church of Jesus Christ. I thank
God that 1 have lived to see this
day, and to unite with you in this
sweet service. / have selected my
text from Psalms 65:11-"Thou
crownest the year with thy good
ness; and thy paths drop fatness."
We need only to open our eyes,
and we will find abundant reason
for Thanksgiving. The outgoing
of the morning and evening" have
been made to rejoice together. "The
pastures are clothed with flocks;
the valleys also are covered over
with corn; they shout for joy-they
also sing" The poet regards the
crown as already set on a year of
goodness. He sees Gods chariot
passing in triumph, and blessing over
the land, and leaving abundance,
whereyer. its wheel trucks go Tor
that Is the true rendering of the
words. thy paths drop fatness-thy
chariot tracks drop fatness.") "Out
in the uncultivated prairie, where
sweet grass unsown by man grows,
in the flush of greenery, the hills
that wears girdle of forest trees
half way up towards their barren
SUBMITS, wave their foliage as if
glad; the Psalmist hears hymn of
glad praise rising from all these
happy and sunny things; and for its
melody he bushes his own that he
and we may listen to "the fair mu-
sic that all creatures make to their
great Lord"
Thou crownest the year with thy
goodness. Never was it more true
than to-day, as we gather for wor-
ship in Gods house. A year of
plenty! Gods chariot wheels have
dropped fatness from Maine to Cali
fornia-North, South, East, West is
prosperity. The crops have been
abundant; the hum of industry
makes sweetest music; there is work
for all. The Lord hath done great
things for us whereof we are glad,
and up from the earth, and out of the
clear sky comes the voice, saying,
'What shall we render unto the Lord
for all his benefts?" Shall not our
grateful response be, 81 will take
the cup of salvation and call upon
the name of the Lord now in the
presence of all his people,"
'Tis well sometimes to get the
cumulative force of the bless
ings that have rolled in upon our
lives. Gratitude is the memory of
the heart In its exercise the heart
recalls its mercies, and records them
as so many items of the debt to be
discharged. 1t differs from the mem
ory of the mind. The mind is
day-book in which the entries are
temporary; but the heart is a ledger
into which the day-book entries are
posted for permanent preservation.
How many of life's mercies never
get into the ledger of the heart at
all! The item was never posted.
More to be coveted and cultivated
than the memories of the mind with
its cold, dry chronicles is the mem
ory of the heart with its warm throb-
bing remembrances of Gods daily
benefits" Let us instead of trying
to count the mercies we have re-
ceived, for that would be wearisome,
and hopeless task indeed, get, /
say the cumulative impression, for
as Van Dyke sings:
Do you give thanks FOR this or that?
NO, God be thanked,
i am not grateful.
In that cold, calculating way, with
blessings ranked
AS one, two, three, four-that would
be hateful!
/ only know that every day brings
good above
My poor deserving;
I only feel that on the road of life
true love
Is leading me along and never
swerving.