The eveing atmosphere was in harmony with the occasion, soft and balmy. Gentle zephyrs floated along, and every leaf danced with delight, while flora waved her banner of love. The evergreens, the pines, tuned up their æolian harps and played whispering harmonies, melodies soft and sweet. Most charmingly did they perform their part. As the evening twilight's mellow rays faded away, the heavenly sentinels, the watchful guardians of the night, appeared in countless throngs from the starry realms, flashing down their radiant light. Sparkling diamonds graced the scene by their flashes of love and approbation, and such an evening, for such an occasion was incomparably the most auspicious and impressive. The surroundings harmonized with the preparations made within the home of the bride. The grounds were tastefully decorated, and scores of Chinese lanterns depended from the tall and stately trees. The mansion was illuminated at every window. Friends by the hundreds, young and old, were there. The bride was richly attired. The bridegroom was faultless in his preparation. The officiating clergyman fully recognized the importance of his office on the occasion, and the fat fee in anticipation no doubt made him a very much interested participant. In the presence of the multitude the young couple stood up, and the nuptial knot was tied as firmly as ever a minister knew how to tie one. Congratulations and kisses were passed around without stint. A wedding feast had been prepared, and all were invited to partake of its delicacies. The hour for the departure of the newly married couple arrived, and amid the "God bless yous", "Good byes", and farewell kisses, the young couple passed out from under the paternal roof. The old shoes of the bride were not overlooked, and they went sailing after them for good luck. A few moments ride brought them to the railway station; seated in a Pullman car, they were soon on their way to enjoy their honeymoon. The friends who remained behind, were profuse in their praises over the suc cess that had attended the preparations and consummation of the happy event. They were free to express their convictions as to the newly married couple. They were well matched. They must have been born for each other. "If matches are made in heaven, surely this one was." "Who ever saw such a lovely couple." Everybody had some compliment to offer. The bridal gifts were many, rich and costly. The newspapers made a full and elaborate report, with all the particulars. It was pronounced the most brilliant wedding of the year. The characters of the new husband and wife were extolled beyond measure. The flattering prospect that opened before them was dilated upon in the most glowing terms. The array of rich and costly gifts, and the names of the donors were not overlooked. Never did the sun shine brighter, or were the prospects for future happiness more promising, than upon the day this young couple set sail on the matrimonial sea. But, alas, although the honeymoon rose in magnificent splendor, and shone most brilliantly, it soon went down behind dark clouds, black as the blackest thunder cloud. It set too soon in a midnight gloom. The matrimonial voyage was short. The frail bark went down. Only a few brief months had passed before the joyous bride that was, returned to her father's house a disconsolate, brokenhearted, sorrowing wife. Matrimonial infelicities sundered the ties that had been sealed for life. They were separated never to meet again. One little innocent will never know a father's love, but must walk beneath a dark shadow through life, and for what, it knows not. LOVE. God is love. THE SPIRITUAL REALM OF LOVE. He is the embodiment of love. Love is the law of heaven, the law of the universe. Love was the element which called worlds into being. The hand that created all things, whether terrestrial or celestial, was guided by infinite love. Love is the principle by which alone all things now exist in that realm where its Author dwells; where, unmeasured by the cycles that mark the footsteps of the unnumbered millions of earth, as they move on in solemn silence in the march, and in unbroken columns, six thousand centuries deep, they pass through the shadowy portals, and are forever veiled from mortal vision, in the great hereafter. Every star that glistens in the heavens, every planet that sweeps around in its mighty orbit, speeding on 720,000 miles an hour, and never flying from its trackless pathway, is bound to its course by the everlasting cords of love to Him who bade it fly, and to every other sun and system as they roll on in the vast cycles of the ages, through unmeasured, unexplored, unknown realms, each in its circuit. In solemn cadences they chant the sublime harmonies of heaven, the “music of the spheres", to the glory of Him who bade them speed on their ceaseless course around the throne of infinite love. Once that song was heard on earth, when the morning stars joined in that grand hallelujah anthem chorus, at the advent of the world's Redeemer. Love was all their theme, love was his mission. That song will be repeated once again when the world's redemption shall have been consummated. Then, in one vast chorus united, the choirs of heaven and earth's redeemed will swell the chorus of that last grand te deum, when love will be crowned triumphant, victorious over worlds. No discordant note will be heard to mar the har mony of the songs that shall be continually sung around that throne; where love will sit forever enthroned, and reign supreme over all heaven's vast domains. There its inhabitants will ever be learning endless progression towards the inapproachable, incomprehensible, mysteries of love; ever unfolding to the mortals of earth, who never will, who never can fathom, "Thou hidden love of God, Whose height, whose depth, unfathomed No man knows." That love—to drink in to the fullest capacity—will be all of heaven, all its bliss. When the cords of love bind two hearts in one, ever beating in unison, heaven comes to earth. Where love reigns there is joy, and happiness is complete, full to the brim. THE FOUNTAIN OF EARTHLY JOY. Love is the fountain from which flows every blessing that we enjoy. Everything that adds or conduces in any way to our comfort, love must have the credit for. It is the inspiration and the power that conceived and constructs the vast enginery of mechanical skill. Every wheel that turns, every shaft that revolves, every shuttle that flies, love gave to it its impetus, its motive power, as wrought out by human ingenuity. It constructs and operates the railways, builds the ship that plows the seas. Love stands at the helm. Not a tree is felled, not a furrow turned, not a seed sown, that love was not the incentive. Love builds the cities and fills their great warehouses with treasures of all lands. Every beautiful home with its costly furnishings, its rare gems, and the product of skill and art, are love's tokens; every monument and shaft over the sleeping dust of the loved one's passed on before. Love looks beyond the gloomy and hopes to meet again “over there.” Love is the inspiration of every enterprise; giving courage to face boldly, resolutely, insurmountable difficulties. No rock of Gibralter stands in the way of its course. Danger it courts, and welcomes suffering; ready to endure untold privations, never shrinking from the most hazardous undertakings; facing and looking coolly into the belching cannon's mouth, with stoic indifference, and to die. The acme of love, to which no prison is impregnable, no chains can bind. That vast collection of the world, of its products in skill, in art, the Centennial Exposition, could rightly have had stamped upon every piece of mechanism, every fabric, every representation of art and of skill, in all that vast array, in letters of gold, "Love patENTEE." The art hall was filled with paintings of marvelous beauty; for finish and for conception, wonderfully wrought out; and the beholder, having the least conception of the beautiful in art, was charmed, entranced, at the perfection in the imitation of nature's håndiwork, so true to life. In every touch of the brush, in the most delicate shading, love guided the eye in the blending of the colors, and the hand that held the brush to execute the work. "Give me the boon of love: Renown is but a breath, -H. T. Tuckerman. MUSIC, THE VOICE OF LOVE. We listen to the sublime harmonies of a Handel, a Haydn, a Mozart; we are delighted with the symphonies of Beethoven, and our enraptured souls are thrilled with ecstatic joy, as the etherial strains burst forth with the heaven-toned music, prelude to the other life. We hear the roar of the tempest as it sweeps everything before it; the rolling thunder which makes earth tremble beneath our feet; we hear the deep toned cadences of "deep calling unto deep"; we are awed as we look down into the awful abyss of the surging waters of a Niagara, with their ceaseless and deafening roar, as they chant nature's sublimest harmonies, echoing and re-echoing heavenward everlasting songs of devotion to Him who bids them sing to the glory of infinite love. All these are but the manifestations of the love that presides over all things in nature and in art. We are told of a statue of such wonderful construction, and so delicately adjusted, that when the first rays of the rising sun fell upon it, it gave forth the most exquisite and ravishing strains of music. Love is the fountain of every joy; music is its voice. There are harmonies unheard by the most sensitive car of mortals, which are yet to be heard, when all the discordant elements of this world are harmonized-tuned to the pitch-the key-note, Love. |