Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 May 1885 — RELIGIOUS WATTERS. [ARTICLE]

RELIGIOUS WATTERS.

BY REV. T. C. WEBSTER.

AT REST. Mark Harris was born March 10th, 1864, and died April 29th, 1885. He had been confined to his bed almost a year. Prior to his confinement, he was in delicate health for quite a while. His case was a very peculiar one, baffling the skill of the most eminent physicians. Every thing was done for him that could be done, by physicians and devoted friends, but, despite all human efforts, he gradually and surely went d jwn to death. While in health a brilliant career seemed to open before him. He had a well cultivated mind, having obtained an excellent education at Purdue University.-and elsewhere. He possessed sterling moral principles, that endured all the tests to which young men are subject, and from them came forth untarnished. Prior to his sickness, he was not a professor of the Christian religion, but had great confidence in, and respect for it. One of the brightest star's in the constellation of the noble traits of his character, was his unceasing devotion to liis Christian mother. In health and in siekness he regarded her counsels above that of all other's, andthe words ofmother, ’ to him , were like -‘apples of gold, in pictures of silver.” During his long illness, patience certainly did her perfect work, for he never murmered or complained *of the hardness of his lot, but through all the many months of his sufferings, he was entrrely resigned. About the first of last November, while

in his room, mono, in secret conrmunion with his Savior, he was most happily and satisfactorily converted. He said: “1 thought I would Hot tell any one about it; but it was too good io keep, and I had to make it known. 1 He also sard: “I have-perfect peace andrest in Christ, and it.would be a great relief lor me to leave this world, were it not for the separation from nry dear mother.” While these words fell in a whisper from his -lips, he was then rapidly' nearing the company of the redeemed before the great white throne. He lingered through that afternoon and night, until the next morning about eight o'clock, surrounded by loving friends, and a number of his neighbors, ““he ceased st once to work and live.'' As we watched at the couch 'of death, and waited for the tinal summons, a smile swept over his - face, as if iu recognition of some long absent loved one. and ills pure spirit kissed the casket of day and left its impress there, thc-ij was at-home with God, angels and the dear ones who had gone before him into the pavillions of the blest. On the following afternoon his funeral servnes 3sg|a3ke}d. at the residence of J. 1. Randle, of Rensselaer, and his remains were deposited in the silent tomb, lie sleeps with his father, brotners and sisters, in the city of the dead; but God will watch over his sacred dust, until that coming day of Resin ection power, when they that sleep in the dust shall awake, and, in the newness of life, shall greet toeir Lord. But, blessed' be God, his spirit slumbereth not, but dwells in cloudless communion with its Redeemer, amidst the unfading splendors of an immortal life beyond the sties. Farewell, loved one, pride of tby mother’s love, we would not have thee back to earth, thou art safe from all corroding care, sale beyond ten ptation and sin, safe in the “arms of Jesus;” life's weary pilgrimage is past; death, by thee has been conquered, and heaven's eternal rest is ttrioe.

“Be ye also ready for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh.” . .... It is a m atter ot little importance, bo far as this world is concerned, whether we live long, or die soon;- but it is a question of deep and vast concern as to hoiv we live, and fiote we die. All the splendors of this world iVhich we now inhabit, are only faint beams of the glory jetto be revealed. The light that now reaches us, comes from afar, and we see it darkly tbrofigh clouds and tears. But in that great And blessed hereafter, the clouds shall flee away, and tears will never be xnown. When theAlear ones that live in Our presence here, are torn by the rude hand of death from our tides, and the doo of the sepulchre shuts them ’ out from us, it is a blessed thought, and a -glorious truth, that it does not crush our love or bury our hopes: but love's golden chain grows brighter, and fahb, immortal faith, turns her burning gaze toward their home in heaven, and clasps hands with them in hope of an eternal reunion.