Year: 1870

A SHORT SERMON


MI HEARERS The human heart
is a curious affair. Like the ther
mometer it is affected by the wealth
er-has its risings and fallings ac-
cording to the warmpth and cold
ness of the bosom's atmosphere.
Like the sea, it heavcs and swells
when the storms of passion rage,
and the winds of excitement blow !;
but it is as placid under the bright
blue sky Of contentment as the sur
face of silvery lake in midsummer.
Like moist clay, it is sure to har-
den in the sunshine of wealth and
prosperity; like an apple, it is the
most soft and mellow when the
worm of woe, sorrow, or grief is
gnawing at its core-like an earthen
pitcher, it is easily broken.-and,
like a clock, it ceases to beat when
the weights of life have run to their
fullest length. But, oh, my friends,
the heart is indeed, a gloomy and
desolate mansion when deserted by
Hope, Friendship and Love.


My Friends-Hope shines upon
the dark side of ones soul like the
bright sun silvering the rough and
Jagged edges OF a thunder cloud. 1t
warns the cold soil of desponding
hearts-causes the flowers of joy to
spring up and bloom on the bosom's
barren desert-and causes the dew
of delight to glisten in the eye, like
the dewdrops that gathered upon
the flowers Of Eden ere-the clouds
wept in sorrow for the fate of fallen
man. Hope, what is it? 1t is a
spider that weaves it web sometimes
in the darkest corners of despair
for the sake of catching the uncer-
tain flies of the future. If the tickle
fabric should happen to be swept
away by the misunderstanding broom
of disappointment, it falls to spin
ming anew with an assiduity that
well might astonish ants, country
girls, and all other insects. Fancy
paints very pretty pictures to please
children; but without the aid OF
Hope-her twin sister-all her eff.
forts would prove as unavailing as
as the attempt to pick feathers from
tailor's goose, or to kill a cast
iron phoenix with cudgel. Hope
and Faucy together make the young
and middle aged many a precious
present. They cast costly jewels
and the rarest of gems at their feet
Irvine for them the loveliest oil
wreaths-and for them they gather
gay gsrlands in the unweedy and
ever-hlooming garden of imagina-
ton. Hope builds q green bower
amid the December SHOWS of age,
the verdure of which never fades
nor from which single leaf ever
falls. Oh, Hope is good old lady
She lights us to our semi-everlast-
ing beds with a cheerful smile, and
wishing us quiet rest till the resur-
rection morn. She can never be
cast down by adverse circumstances,
nor dismayed by threatnlng storms
but, like my old great-grandmother,
sit quietly in her old chimney cor
ner, and light her pipe sat natures
funeral piie.'' In fact, the heart
that is a stranger to Hope hasn't
much to hope for.


My Respected hearers-The heart
unblest with the elements of Friend
ship is as miserable thing as the
one without Hope--it is not worth
it's weight in sawdust. In order to
be happy, we must have those
around us whom We confidently
consider as friends-those who are
ever ready to congratulate us upon
any joyful occasion, to sympathize
with us in our suferings, lend US a
few shillings when we happen to be
hard up, and prevent the mildew of
melancholy from gathering in our
bosoms. When the moths of mis-
anthrophy once fairly geta gnawing
at the heart, it is astonishing how
fast they snap the fine threads of
feeling SO nicely interviewer in the
texture of human nature. Make as
many friends as you possibly can.
by all means; for. without such, the
world is but a dark and dreary
waste--but beware of the false ones.
They are remarkably prevalent in
prosperity, but, yellow fever like,
they are cut off by the first frost of
adversely.