The ledger. [volume] (Gaffney City, S.C.) 1896-1907, August 30, 1904, Image 3
Calm age
Sermon
By Rev.
Frank Do Witt Talmnge, D. D.
I.os Ah'-vIps, C:il.. Aujr. 28.—At the
season when n: ti re is displaying her
glories In gre.ilest ahnndanee the
preacher chooses as a theme for his
sermon the beauty of tl ings audible
and visible and contrasts it with the
higher beauty which conies to those
whose lives are in harmony with the
Divine life. The text is Ecclesiastes
iii, ]1, ‘Tie hath made everything
beautiful in Ids time.”
The Solomonic writings are often
epigrammatic in style. Like priceless
jewels cut and polished by the lapi
daries and collected in caskets, lire-
spective of size or color, bis verses as
verbal gems are clustered into chap
ters, with but little attempt at con
secutive arrangement. Indeed, King
Solomon for the most part seems to
me to be like a writer of notebooks.
In the king’s judgment ball or on the
street or out upon the hillsides under
the blue dome of the sky, when a great
thought is divinely inspired within bis
brain, ho jots that thought down in
memorandum. Then at the end of the
day or the week or the month or the
don. a discoid, but man redeemed, Is
haloed with divine beauty, and, as
Uniph Waldo Trine has said. “He is in
tune with the inlinite." lie becomes
part of the universal harmony, and his
thoughts are in spiritual symmetry
with the thoughts of (iod.
('olerldKe*ii Deli nit ion.
We Hud an analogy for man’s spir
itual beauty’ in the painter’s brush
and the artist's easel. According to
Samuel Coleridge, the English poet and
literary critic, the true definition of
“beauty” is “multitude in unity.”
When standing before a great picture
like that of Leonardo da Vinci’s “Last
Supper," or Murillo’s “Miracle of the
Loaves and Fishes,” or Raphael’s
greatest picture, his Sistine “Madon
na,” we find that there the many lights
and the shadows, the gold and the
silver and the green and the yel
low and the blue and the saffron and
the violet and the purple, all blend In
one common purpose. Thousands, per
haps tens of thousands of times, Mi
chael Angelo, with his brush, may have
touched the wall in the Vatican where
today Is seen Ids “Last Judgment.”
Rut not one of all of those thousands
of times when he laid on the paint did
he do so without having one great Idea
In his mind. “Perfection is composed
of many trifles,” wrote he, “but per
fection in art is not a trifle.” A great
picture is always “multitudes of dif
ferent colors In blending unity.” That
unity is the cause of beauty when
seen upon the canvas of the masters
of old and the masters of the present
day.
“A Multitude In Unity.”
An artist’s beauty is a “multitude In
year he collects these different. ^ ^ ^ ,
thoughts, irrespective of their logical nnUy.” We know that Samuel Cole-
sequence, into a chapter or a hook i
and has the court stenographer write -
them out again in full. In other words,
King Solomon’s verses for the most
part are like freight cars that can he
sidetracked or uncoupled from one
car and attached to other cars. Each
verse stands out as a distinct entity.
An average verse is ns appropriate in
the sixth chapter of Proverbs as In
the twentieth chapter. The verse is
the car. The chapter is the freight
train. They are often as unconnected
as the definitions of Webster’s Dic
tionary. They change their subjects
very often. They are like nuggets of
gold sometimes found by the Austra
lian miners in the dust by the road
sides or In the river beds, entirely sep
arated from any gold veins. They are
Jlike great round bowlders of rock ini- j
bedded in the sands. These bowlder
verses in a glacial age have been car
ried by the ice from afar and have
found a resting place amid entirely dif
ferent elements from those among
which they were oreated.
The modern critics tell us that King
Solomon did not write the hook of Ec-
cleiastes; that its style and diction be
long to a later date. It appears to me,
however, that its tone and its depress
ing refrain are characteristic of a man
Who led such a life of ease and self In
dulgence as Solomon led, and that at
the end of It, satiated with pleasure
and study, as he must have been, it
was precisely the kind of hook that
would come from Lis pen, and the con
clusions uttered in that hook Just such
as would he likely to he reached by a
man who, having strayed from God,
was disappointed and dissatisfied with
his life. In the absence, therefore, of
definite knowledge I shall assume that
the first verse of the book Indicates
him as the author, “The son of David,
king in Jerusalem.”
The Law of Sequence.
But, though King Solomon was not,
as a rule, a connected writer, yet in the
book of Eecleslates he makes an excep
tion to his usual custom. In this third
chapter, for example, there is clear
sequence. No man can interpret my
text aright unless he uses the words,
“He hath made everything beautiful
In his time,” as a glorious climax to
the ten verses which precede them.
Solomon is here enunciating the mighty
law of sequence. He is marshaling the
events of a human life as an army.
Each event must have its right posi
tion. In the language of the chapter,
he says, “There Is a time to he horn
and a time to die.” There Is a time for
a cradle and a time when the wood of
that cradle should he changed Into a
coflin lid. “There is a time to plant
and a time to reap that which is plant
ed.” The plow and the sickle cannot
have the rust rubbed off their faces at
the same time. “There Is u time to
weep and a time to laugh.” That means
that a Joke or a caehlnnatlon at a
funeral Is a discord. A tear and a sob
at a coronation are also out of place.
A wedding march Is never played in a
minor key; neither is the “Battle Hymn
of the Republic” sung to the accompa
niment of the “Dead March” from
“Saul,” nor is a Christmas carol im
prisoned behind the musical burs of a
Mozart’s requiem. “There is a time to
love and a time to hate.” There Is a
time when the “uugel of mercy” should
extend the open palm of forgiveness as
well as a time when the clinched flat
of Justice must defend the weak and
fight u mortal combat over the pros
trate forms of Innocence and rectitude.
Then, after the author of my text haa
sung the changes of the “Gospel Har
monies of Sequence”—the meadow
lands and upon the mountain top, in sea
and on land, by cradles and by open
ed graves, during the times when the
dove of peace is hovering over man,
and during the time when the black
ravwi of war Is flapping his wings
above bloody battlefields—King Solo
mon generalizes all his statements In
one great conclusion. He practically
says, “All the different heart heats ot
V Joy and sorrow, life and death, peaeo
and conflict, hope and despair, have
their purpose to serve, If they only
ridge’s definition in reference to the
painter's easel Is true. We see a “mul
titude of colors in unity” when Tur
ner, the most brilliant artistic colorist
England ever produced, makes the sea
a creature of life. Now it is a beauti
ful boulevard of gold, paving its way
to the throne of a setting sun; now a
perfect pandemonium of furies; now it
Is a burial scene, when Sir David Wil
kie finds a sepulcher in the mighty
deep, whose waves heat themselves In
to pieces on the Gibraltar crags. We
see an artist’s “multitude In unity” In
the portraits of a Sir Anthony Van
dyke and in the mighty mountain
peaks of a Bierdstadt and In the pas
toral dreams of a Millet. But, though
there may ho many different tints
blending in the colors of a rainbow or
In the hectic Hush of a rose, did you
ever stop to realize that all colors come
from but three primal colors, just the
same as all nature? All the animal and
vegetable and mineral kingdoms have
hut sixty-six different basic elements,
of which they are all composed. So
in the artistic world we find that all
colors originally come from hut three
primary colors—the red, the yellow and
the blue. Now, if God can form the
artistic beauty of the sky, the sea, the
land, out of the simple red, the simple
yellow and the simple violet, is it ab
surd to suppose that God can spiritual
ly make us artistically beautiful, no
matter how crude and sinful we may
he, if we only allow our thoughts and
lives to he combined in symmetry with
his thoughts and with Christ’s life?
Oh. the beauty of blending colors!
From the brilliant pictorials of an au
tumnal leaf let us learn the spiritual
lesson for man that God hath made
and can make everything beautiful In
its time.
Rut the musician's oratory and sym
metry of sounds have also their analo
gies by which we can find man, in his
spiritual beauty, “in tune with the in
linite.” In the Epistle to the Romans
I’aul writes, “How beautiful are the
feet of them that preach the gospel of
peace and glad tidings of good things.”
Aye, beautiful are the feet of the gos
pel messengers, hut beautiful are the
voices also, for today we find the sym
bol of man’s thoughts in beautiful sym
metry with God’s thoughts, in the
sweet throat of a singing thrush, in
the sighing of the winds among the
leaves and in the harvest fields, in the
meanings of the seas us well as in the
colors of its waters and in all the
strange yet harmonious voices of the
woods, whether they be the calls of
the cuckoo, which musicians declare
sound the third note In music, or the
shrill whistle of the bobwhite, which,
like the voice of the fife, Is heard above
every other Instrument of the band, or
the croonings of the wood dove, which
the California Indians used to call
“majella,” whose song by day and by
twilight both to mate and young was
one continuous whispering of “Here,
love! Love, here! Here, love! Love,
here!” Oh, the beautiful voices of
blending harmonies heard in the
choruses of the woods! Who can ever
listen to them and not find a symbol
of man’s spiritual beauty? “In tune
with the infinite!”
“In Tune With the Infinite.”
But what, according to the law of
sound, do we mean by being “In tune
with the Infinite?” I went hunting
Borne time ago. As I lay In a dugout
by a water hole, hidden by the leaves,
waiting for the birds to come down to
drink, I asked myself these questions:
What Is music? Why Is it that all
these voices of the woods have such
a wonderful influence over me? Why
does not the harsh cull of the fish
monger hawking his food at my city
door, or the deep voice of the fog
horn on shipboard off the banka of
Newfoundland, or the rasp of a saw,
or the whining cry of a spoiled child,
enchant me as now do the voice signal
ings of the pheasants, which I can
now see way off under yonder trees, or
the chirp of the swallows flying over
my head, or the beautiful sounds that
come to my ear us the harpists of the
winds finger the long, slender vines
ind swells and dies away In ‘the
choruses of many a great musical
master. I know the rasp of a saw
can become part of a lullaby or of a
martial inarch. Then why are not
these different sounds at all times
pleasing to my ear?”
In order to answer the questions I
made a study of the laws of musical
sound. Dudley Buck, the great Ameri
can composer, taught me that “sweet i
music was merely a succession of com- ’
lunations of sound arranged with such
connection and mutual relations ns to
express to the ear some distinct form
or train of thought and awaken cer
tain corresponding emotions.” lie told
me that music is thought expressed
in sound, even as a great painting Is
thought expressed in color. A jumble
of colors is a daub, not a picture. A
riot of sounds, promiscuously pushing
and jostling each other, even as the
stronger limbed members of a stam
peding mob knock down and trample
upon the weaker, is merely a collection
of discords, it is only when “multi
tudes of sounds” are marshaled to
gether in “harmonious unity” that we
have music. So when I began to know
what true music meant then I said to
myself: “Yes, yes; I now know what
Ralph Waldo Trine means when he
speaks of man being *ln tune with the
Infinite.’ ” Man In himself may be so
distracted by sin as to be like a dis
cord in music. His voice in nature
may be so discordant by reason of his
corrupt condition as to rend the ear
as does the shrill cry of the vender on
the street. But when his nature Is
redeemed his voice falls Into its right
place In the song of creation and of
Moses and the lamb and becomes har
monious and melodious. By the sweet
voices of the woods blending in per
petual harmonies can you not catch
the meaning of my text when King
Solomon declares God hath made and
will continue to make, according to the
laws of music, everything “beautiful
in its time?”
their appointed seasons.” For God
“bath made everything beautiful In Its
time.” This Is the keynote of Ghrto-
tinnlty. Man In his sinful state la a
monster of ugliness, a blemish on crea-
come to man In the right way and at as though they were harp strings? I
know that some of the repellent cries
I have heard from the fishmonger
Richard Wagner has reproduced in his
matchless operas. I know the deep
voice of the fog horn rolls and thunders
Thought Expressed In Sound.
The symmetries of straight lines and
curves in sculpture and architecture
also form analogies for man’s spiritual
beauty. Wandering among the famous
buildings of Europe, I find that, archi
tecturally, a great building has a sym
metrical unity, Just as a perfect statue
is chiseled after the physical forma
tions of a perfect man. Many years
ago there was exhumed from the
buried ruins of old Rome a marble
leg, broken from off one of the statues
of old. That broken fragment is still
preserved in the Vatican. Michael An
gelo, as a sculptor, used to study that
leg by the day, the week, the month
and the year, “because,” said the great
Italian master, “I consider that piece
of stone the most perfect formation of
physical anatomy ever carved by the
chisel of man.” Ho symmetrically per
fect may the lines and the curves of
a great group of statuary he that
when you look at some of the best ex
amples of sculpture in the Louvre, the
Vatican or the British museum the
figures almost seem as though their
lungs are breathing and their lips are
ready to speak.
Now, the symmetrical laws observed
In true sculpture are also found to ex-
st in true architecture. A great build-
»r like Christopher Wren did not start
In to erect St. Paul's cathedral at hap
hazard. Every part of the walls, the
dome and the capstone were carefully
and harmoniously designed and prop
erly proportioned before one spadeful
of dirt was dug out of the heart of
mother earth to excavate the cellars of
London’s architectural pride. And the
wonderful part of the masterfully de
signed buildings of Europe is how de
ceptive they are as to their size when
first seen by the human eye. When
one set's the dome of St. Peter's at
Rome lifting itself tow r ard the skies, or
the spires of the Cologne cathedral
like the uplifted forefinfcer of an ora
tor pointing heavenward, or the roof
of the Milan cathedral peopled with
myriads of saints and apostles carved
in stone, the lengths and the breadths
and the heights of those structures
rarely Impress the tourist at first.
Why? Because all are in perfect sym
metrical proportion. A truly great
building is “multitudes of stones ar
ranged in unity.” It Is thought ex
pressed In stone, as a painting is
thought expressed In colors, or as mu
sic Is thought expressed In sound.
Now, as true architecture is beautiful
thought expressed In the curves and
lines of the roof and the walls and the
foundation stones of a building, I
would go one step further In my sub
ject. I would say to the designers of
the great Episcopalian cathedral now
being built in New York city: “Ob.
architects, of what material are you
building these walls? Where are to be
found the mighty beams to hold up
yonder roof?” Then these architects
take me down Into the quarries, and
amid the dust and the dirt I see the
mighty rocks being hewed out. Then
they take me to the foundries where
the steel beams are being moldcHl.
Then they take me out into the forests
where the great tree trunks are being
dragged to the sawmills. Then they
say: “Oh, preacher, we are making
this beautiful Cathedral of St. John the
Divine out of such materials as these.
All these rocks and steel Iteams and
tree trunks, a multitude of different
elements, shall blend together In beau
tiful architectural unity.” Then I turn
to the architects and say: “Oh, design
ers, If you can make yonder stone beau
tiful by placing It in symmetrical har
mony with other stones, cannot my
Lord and my Ood make redeemed man
beautiful when he becomes part of
the heavenly temple by onion with
Jesus Christ? For 'I saw no temple
therein, for the Lord God Almighty and
the Lamb are the temple of It.’ As the
apostle says, ‘Ye also as living stone*
are built up a spiritual house.’ Is the
one achievement from an earthly stand
point any more wonderful than the
second achievement from a heavenly
standpoint?” Yes. I see today, by the
beautiful in architecture, analogies
that show that God Inis made and God
is u »w milking aim will continue to
make redeemed man beautiful in his
time.
Let us loiter for a little while In the
“poets’ corner" of Westminster abbey.
As we listen the sweet hards of the
English language seem to lift their
heads from their pillows of dust and
begin to sing, and we find man's sjfir-
itual beauty in the analogies of poetry
as well as in painting and music and
sculpture and architecture. For as
painting is rhythm in color and music
Is rhythm in sound and sculpture and
architecture are rhythm iu stone, so
poetry is rhythm in words. Aye, poetry
is more than mere rhythm. An Eng
lish writer once well said, “Poetry In
the flower garden of human language
Is the blossom and the fragrance of
all human knowledge, human thoughts,
human passions and emotions.” It is
man's most transcendent hopes and no
blest ambitions, with the highest peak
of the Mount of Ascension for a foot
stool. or It is man's wall of eternal
despair when, as the results of his
sins, he is heading toward a Dante’s
“Inferno” or he Is compelled to join
in the moans of a Milton’s “Paradise
Lost”
The Beauty of Words.
But though poetry is rhythm In
words, yet words themselves, ns In
dividuals, are not poetry. Many years
ago in the old village of Ayr, nigh un
to the banks of the “Bonnie Doon,” I
heard an old Scotchman recite “John
Anderson. My Jo, John,” and other
poems of the great lyric poet until the
tears rained down his cheeks, and I
thought those poems were the sweet
est words ever composed by man. But
the words Burns used in his poems,
and William Shakespeare used in his
poems, and Longfellow used In his
poems, and Whittier and Holmes and
Lowell and Bayard Taylor used In
their poems, were for the most part
only the simple words we use In ev
eryday life by our own firesides. The
beauty of these poets’ words are en
tirely due to their juxtaposition with
their surrounding words. The words
which express our thoughts, our pas
sions, on.' emotions, may not he beau
tiful in themselves, but if they are
brought into rhythm with God’s words
they not only become poetry, but they
become beautiful, for then our thoughts
us words are in symmetry with God’s
thoughts.
But perhaps we have lingered al
ready too. long among the artists and
the musicians and the sculptors and
the architects and the poets to find
man’s spiritual beauty Tiy being in
symmetry with God’s thoughts. Per
haps after all we can clinch the truth |
of our text best by a short running
comment upon a few of the verses
which precede the words, “He hath
made everything beautiful In Its time.”
God says that man Is beautiful when
he horn. Oh, yes. That means
when man is born for Christ. But is
man beautiful when lie Is horn for sin?
Come with me, and I will show you
Robespierre gleefully sharpening the
ax of his guillotine. I will show you
an Indian demon just for fun torturing
a victim at the stake whose scalp will
soon he hanging at the warrior’s belt.
1 will show you men who for the price
of a drink are ready to sell their sons
and daughters into a life of crime. Can
Or. D. P. THOMSON,
Dentist.
Over Cherokee Drug Co. Phone 55.
at the same
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Rutledge St. I
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Good stalls and water for your stock.
I am here to serve you.
W. T. Thompson.
oy
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The Savoy is the successor to the Pied
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with its patrons. Call on us when in
the city.
Respectfully,
G. E. WHEELER, Proprietor
Aui?. 21,1 mo r
Worth Receiving
Worth Giving
A box of our Confectionery is the
right thing to take along for an
evening call. It’s a sweet basis
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Domestic and Imported Candies,
at wholesale and retail.
Special on Bananas-—10 and
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S. R. Suiloer’
Next door to Postoffice.
The Builders Supply Co.
Successors to L. Baker.
Will furnish you Building Material of
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n.
June H. Carr
C»or
Phone 176.
Residence, 171.
625 Limestone Street,
The Penalty
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you see any beauty in the birth of a
demoniac Frankenstein?
There is a “time to die,” which is
beautiful. Death, if it comes in God’s |
way. Is beautiful, for then a dying i
saint knows death Is ijot annihilation, ;
hut coronation, irradiation and eternal
triumph. Like old Senator Foote, :
when dying he can look at the raptur- ;
ous glories ahead and cry: “Beautl- 1
ful! Beautiful! Beautiful!” But was
the death of Nero beautiful? Was the
death of Cleopatra beautiful? Was
the death of Thomas Paine beautiful—
one moment in prayer, the next mo- I
ment blaspheming God, until his rela
tions, In horror, placed tlieir fingers j
in their ears and ran from his howling i
blasphemous agonies?
The Redemption of John.
Are you and I ready to become part
of God’s beautiful creation? Are we
ready to become lieuutiful in ourselves
by becoming beautiful In him? Even
the lowest and vilest, saved by his
grace and redeemed by his blood, can
become a true part of Christ’s beauti
ful life. Many years ago when the
yellow fever plague was raging In
Memphis, Te.nn., a rough looking man
applied to the city relief committee
and said, “I wish to nurse.” It was
at a time when most people who could
were fleeing from the stricken and des
olated homes. The death carts seemed
to he going everywhere. At first the
physician declined the rough man’s
services, but as he could get no one
else to do the work tills man was sent
to one of the most filthy and danger
ous wards of the city. Wherever he
went he was a messenger of love. He
would not tell his name; he said sim
ply, “Call me John." Time passed on.
and after awhile John, whose name
was now famous through the city,
sickened and died. While his body was
being prepared for an unmarked grave,
suddenly upon his arm was found a
livid murk, which proved that John
was an ex-coovlct. John hud been
one of the must dangerous criminals
of all the south. Once be was a mur
derer, but now, through the blood of
Jesus, he became a ministering angel.
Once he was horrible in his depraved
malformation. Now he was made beau
tiful by bringing his life in sym
metrical touch with Jesus’ life.
My friends, will you not let Christ
fill you with his spiritual beauty? Will
you not only In the future be spiritu
ally beautiful, but beautiful now in
your present life? Will you not be
come transformed as was John, the
redeemed nurse, laboring for his Mas
ter In plague stricken Memphis?
[Copyright, 1004. by Louis Klopach.l
CUT PRICES.
I have “knifed” the prices on all Slippers, Straw
Hats and summer Dress Goods. Now is your time
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sale price.
My entire line of summer goods, consisting of
Lawns, India Linens, Batistes, Organdies, Dotted
Swiss, Dimities and VVLite Waistings in lace-stripe
effects will be sold at cost for cash—no goods charg
ed in this sale.
I will also close out a lot of Ladies Summer Under
vests at greatly reduced prices during this sale.
We will offer a big lot of youths’, boys’and chil
dren’s Suits at cost for the next few days. Bring
the little gents around and let us fit them up in a
nice suit for a little money.
We will also offer a few men’s two-piece Suits at cost
to close out.
We have had a very flattering trade on Negligee
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have a nice assortment to select from. See us be
fore buying your shirts.
Good Flour from $2.00 to $2.60 per 100—every
sack guaranteed.
One and two two quart Fruit Jars at prices that
can’t be beat.
If you are looking for goods at money-saving prices
go to my store at Goforth’s, S. C., or come to my
store iu the city.
Yours for trade,
J. I. SA PRTTT
This Bank Pays Four Per Cent
On All Deposits.
Gaffney Savings Bank.
Capital Stock Paid In
Thirty Thousand Dollars.
D. C. Ross, Prest.
J. Q. Little,
]. A. Cakkoll,
B. L. Hames,
G. Wardlaw. Vice-P.
Directors.
J. N. Lipscomb,
R. M. Wilkins,
W. C. Carpenter,
D. C. Ross.
Maynard Smyth, Cashier.
William Jkpfkrirs,
J. G. Wardlaw,
O. E. Wilkins,