Year: 1873

Desih-A Beautiful Extract.


The annexed extract is SO beau
tiful that, by every one who reads it, |
it will be preserved. It fell from |
the lips of DR.. Charles Wadsworth,
of Philadelphia. The text taken
by him was Gas a shock of corn
cometh in its season."


'.In His moral tillage," he said,
"God cultivates many flowers seem
ingly only for their exquisite beau
ty and fragrance. For when bath
ed i'll soft sunshine they have burst
into blossom, then the divine hand
gathers them from the earthly fields
to be kept in crystal vases in the
blessed mansions above. Thus little
children lie-some in the sweet bud,
some in fuller blossom; but never
too early to make heaven fairer and
sweeter with their immortal bloom.


''Verily, to the eye of Faith moth
ing is fairer than the death of young
children. Sight and sense, indeed,
recoil from it. The flower that, a
breathing rose, filed heart and
home with an exquisite delight,
alas! We are stricken with sore an
guish to find it's stem broken, and
the blossom gone. But unto Faith,
eagle-eyed beyond mental vision,
and winged to mount like the sing
ing lark over the fading rainbow
unto the blue heaven, even this is
touching lovely.


THE child's earthly ministry was
well done, for the rose does its
work as grandly in blossom as the
vine with it's fruit. And having
helped to sanctify and lift heaven
wards the very hearts that broke at
its farewell, it has gone from this
troublesome sphere ere the winds
chilled or the rains stained it, leav-
ing the world it blessed and the
skies through which it passed still
sweet with its lingering fragrance,
to it's glory as an ever unfolding
flower in the blessed garden of
God. Shurely, prolonged life on
earth hath no boon like this. For
such moral loveliness to put on i'm.
mortality-to rise from the carnal
with SO little memory of earth that
the mothers cradle seemed to have
been rocked in the house of many
mansions-to have no experience
of wearied mind and chilled affec-
tions, but from q child's joyous heart
growing up into the power of an
srchangelic intellect-to be raptur-
ed as blessed babe through the
gates of Paradice all! this is better
than to watch as an old prophet
for the car of fire in the Valley of
Jordan.


'Shurley God is wise in all his
works, and even amid our tears
will rejoice in this harvest feast
that, among us, as elsewhere, he
gathers 80 largely the flowers in
their season.


"And as of flowers, so of fruits,
in their order and after their kind
each 'cometh in his season. Some
fruits ripen early. Scarcely has
the delicious June poured its full
glory over the earth ere some rare
and delicious species are already
ripened. And some ripen later
There are trees that do not even
blossom until mid summer. And
there are fruits that remain hard
and unsavory until God shakes
them in the wild autumnal wind
and treats them with the distressful
ministry of frost. And SO it is in
the spiritual-souls develop and
mature differently. Some are ready
for gathering at ife's early sum
mer; some come not to the caring
till the time of the latter rain And
God watches carefully that each
shall come in his season. We in
deed sometimes talk of 'untimely
deaths of young Christians remov
ed too early from spheres of use
fulness, as if the omniscient hus
bandman did not know when his
immortal grapes are purple and hii
corn in the ear. Surely God does
the whole thing wisely, gathering
each spiritual growth just as i
comes into condition for it's morta
uses.


80, thought beautiful and com
forting! Death is not destruction
but harvesting-the gathering from
fields of mortal tillage ripe fruits il
their season. And why, then
should our harvest feast be sad owe,
garnered immortality? Why shoult
this sweetly tolling bell, filing tn
troubled earthly airs with a gentl
sound, so startle and appall tn,
trustful spirit. God stregthen you
faith so to behold this mysteriou
thing in light from heaven, tina
its dark veil shall seem transparent
and q face with soft eyes look fort
loving and bright as the face of al


angel.


Death is not destruction! Deaf


is not even decay. Death is har


vesting! Hear ye parents fion


whose household children have bee,


rudely parted, hear ye this: 'Th


beloved has gone down into hi
garden to gather lilies!' Ye child


rem who have lost revered parent.


whose life is chilled in the shadow {


that dread thing-orphanage-


ye this: AS shock of corn comet


in his season, so are matured soul


gathered to the garner of God


The effeminate man is a wea


poultice. He is o cross betwee


table beer and ginger pop, with th
cork left out; a fresh water me,
\