Year: 1873

From the New York Tribune.


Good Friday.


There is an old story in an Did book of a
certain well. to-do man who found his income
so secure, his house 30 comfortable, his barns
so well filled, that he began to look upon the
whole affair, both master and possessions, as
the one thing meant to be permanent in this
shifting world. "Soul,'' he said, in jovial
humor one night, to the Something out OF
sight inside of his healthy body, costly
clothes, stately dwelling aud estate Soul


!" let US eat, drink and be merry This
live creature, at least, he was sure of. Body
and land and houses, being dead matter,
might wear out, but that which had earned
and ruled them all would stay. When dawn
came, the old record goes on to state, the
morning sun found fields and rocks unaltered
There, too, were the comfortable house and
the rich clothes unchanged. Even the body.
which had served its master so long, was
there ready to do his bidding. But the soul
had gone, and never sent message back to
say whittier. 50 For six Thousand years."
" says Schiller, d" the dead have been going
" from US, and not one hath returned to
bring US tidings


Certainly, this well-to-do man did not be-
long to these days. Whatever else our
crimes, we are not indifferent. We all Of us
take keen interest in that unknown coun-
try to which each of US must 20 some day
on an inexorable journey, never to come
back, taking with US nothing that we have
needed here. When we go into strange
countries now, we can make place for our
selves with our money or acqualntances :;
even good clothes are Of use. But what
baggage or letters of credit can we take with
us there? Even the fair face or bodily
graces which have covered up so much Of
our real selves must be left behind. To
think of the dreadful nakedness of it To
whom shall we talk of the matters which
have always filled our lives until an hour
five minutes before Who will care there
for the next election, or the price of stocks
in the market? Who will ask for the last
joke or bit of gossip? VINO will know of
the fashions or the last new book ? Things
that have filled our hands and brain for our
whole lives will have vanished from US like a
breath, and hands and brain have gone with
them. If we could but take bit of hair
from the child that lay in our bosom if we
could but feel the kiss which the one
dearest to US left on our closed eyes But
the child will grow up and forget US; and
the kiss and the dead eyes will be together
in the grave far below; and what will be left
to us? Who can answer-what?


No man, however silly, is Indifferent to
this and of the history for each of US. Men
nowadays do not talk much about death, or
heaven, or hell. Why should they? Have
any returned to bring them tidings? But
they stand peering, rich and poor, bOor and
scholar, alike at the closed gate, with the
old Chaldean prophet on their lips. " W hen
'' man diet1 shall he live again? He Civ
'' eth up the ghost, and where is be p Why
do the poor crowd to funerals? Why do
hosts of unimag native people accept table
Ta2PpSgs and medq%s Why is deash
opening of the great jaws of the sea and the
engulfing of hundreds in moment, the one
subject which renews in US all, day by day,
the same breathless. morbid interest? a? Not,
surely, that the article of death, livid lips,
and CHASING eyes are rare show that at
tracts any man. 1t is the secret beyond :;
the hope that, haltlng in the opened dark
ness, ON the verge OF the gulf, the departing
soul may let Iall some hint of that which
1t sees, on the other side, and it will never
come back to tell to US. Job, even, IN the
first morning of time, while the world was
yet young aud fresh, cried out with impotent
despair against this - land of darkness. y
The POOR Indian in Brazil goes out at night
INTO the foJe est to try to learn the song OF the
bud which he fancles has come from the
spirit world with a message from his dead
Tne woman whose child died here to-day
knows only The old, unalte1a5le longing o.
that savage and OF that man whom God and
Satan put to trial, when she kisses her baby's
icy lips. and they do not move again to hers.


" by, but for this reason is to day set
apart from all others? There have been
countless deaths as tragic in circumstance as
mans progress to the grave that the word's
air has been but the breath of the dying.
In every war or pe.tilence thousands are
swept into the grave. Why should not only
churches be open but business be made to
halt in American cities to-day, because
eighteen ceoturies ago the son OF Jewish
carpenter was crucifed between two thieves
on little hill outside of Jerusalem? Why,
but because with a Divine strength in his
man S body he went out into the dark un
known to solve the great secret for us-to
" bring US tidings p All the miracles OF
tue Saviour, all of his teachings. would not
have won the worlds belief in Him, but for
that last voluntary struggle with It's enemy.
We watch Him going down into that final
abyss of silence and darkness, and rejoice
that He gots as man and not as God He
yearns as we would do for human sympathy.
Gould ye not watch with me one hour ?''
His last tender thought is for His mother.
The awful loneliness of Death overpowers
HIM. My God, my God, why hast Thou
" iorsaken me? He cries. and then He is
gone. When this Man went out into the


land of darkness to wrench it's secret from
1t, We are told that the earth shook and the
sun was darkened; crying with the Roman
centurion, Verify, this is the Son OF God. "


The wisest as the weakest man must wait
the issue of this day to know of the here
after. No other voice will answer them If
that Of the Nazarene fails. Not all our sci
ence nor laws gathered since the creation
have giycn single fact of that darkness
where matter is nullity and mind to US is
dumb. We call to our dead, but they give
us no answer How is it with them? we
ask of Him. Is it life or death, which
- that hereafter holds for them-for US p
No wonder that the ancient church tasted
through this day. and sat clad In deepest
mourning while it awaited His answer.


DEATH FROM CoLD.-ExperIments on