Of its existence, but the whole;
The very life-breath of the heart.”
THE DURATION OF LOVE.
Love is eternal. All else shall fail, but “Love never faileth.” (1 Cor. 13:8). Wendell Phillips sang of a past golden age, and told in silvery eloquence of things now lost. Lost the instruments for lifting the pyramidal stones to their place. Lost the secret of annealing glass, and Tyrian colors undimmed by centuries. Lost the art of making the Damascus blade, whose elasticity would permit the point and hilt to kiss each other. Lost the ancient races of Israel, ancient cities, ancient books, ancient languages, but love still remains.
So great are our mental powers that we can conceive of the time according to scientific enumeration and declaration when the oil wells of the world shall cease, when all the precious metals shall have been dug and coined, when the sun shall have burnt out, yes, and by the transforming power of the coming Christ, the faith of Christians shall be changed into sight and hope blossom into fruition. Then, even then, love shall forever exist.
Cultivate love, my boy. “Men will not bow down to crowned power, or philosophic power, or æsthetic power, but in the presence of a great soul filled with vigor of inspiration and glowing with love man will do obeisance.” Frank Bragg was only fifteen years of age when he lay dying in Paducah hospital. He had fought as one of Birge’s sharpshooters. As the dew of death gathered on his brow, he said, “O, I’m going to die, and there is no one to love me.” The nurse told him that he had many friends and that God loved him. “Yes,” said he, “I am not afraid to die, but I want someone to love me.” “Frank,” said the nurse, “I love you.” She kissed his pale forehead. “Kiss me again,” he said, “that was given so like my sister.”
Did you ever think how many struggling hearts, sinful hearts, disconsolate hearts are saying: “No one loves me?” It remains with you, my boy, to sweeten many a bitter cup, cast sunshine into many a darkened soul, extract the thorn of anguish from many a sad heart, and make life worth living by expressing what John Waterhouse and David Cargill did to the cannibals of the Fiji Islands: “My love to you.” Love in Jesus Christ, for love is the—
“golden charm that binds
The happy souls above,
And he’s an heir of heaven that finds