In Memoriam

In Cartersville, Ga., on October 18 th, in an humble, rented home, surrounded by his delicate, saintly wife and daughters, whose loving hearts and patient, toiling hands had, by the persistent and wearing stitch, stitch of the needle for some 15 to 20 years won bread for their home and ministered to the wants of his declining old age (oh, the exquisite beauty and pathos of such lives as of those good women), Mr. Wm P. Johnson, in the 87 th year of his age, fell asleep, perhaps to dream of the rich heritage that awaited him in the mysterious spirit realm beyond the ken of men.

Brother Johnson’s life was a beautiful living exemplification of the inspired conception of a Christian character, as given to us by David in Psalms 15 th, 16 th and 23 rd. His was indeed a quiet, unassuming life—I doubt if he was ever known or heard of, even in his prime, beyond a very small circle; yet he acted well his part and all who knew him could but admire his quiet, gentle and kindly life.

His life was not a success as the world counts successful lives, yet he, in his humble way, tried to honor God, and to instill into the minds and hearts of his six sons and four daughters the divine idea of a human character as contained in the decalogue and the gospel of the Christ. That he was successful in this, the quiet, sober and consistent Christian lives of his sons and daughters are living epistles to all men. Who, looking at life as it touches eternity, can say that his life was not far more successful than the life of the millionaire who has taught his children that the center and circumference of a human life is the almighty dollar?

The silent forces of nature affect this earth and all animate nature more potently than the thunders of heaven’s artillery, the roar of the cyclone and the terrific tremor of the earthquake; so also do the silent forces of earnest, consistent, humble Christian lives, such and Bro. Johnson’s and his noble wife’s and daughters’, affect the lives of men more potently than the grand anthems of cathedrals, the eloquent homilies of the pulpit, and the wordy philosophies of the doctors of divinity who write the books of our day.

Peace to his ashes. He today “wears a royal diadem and sits upon a throne.”

All hearts go up in earnest prayer to God that He may indeed prove Himself to be a husband to the widow and a father to the orphaned daughter, who again take up the monotony of the ceaseless stitch, stitch, to earn their bread, as they toil on with aching heart and brain, waiting for the summons, “In the Sweet By and By,” to come up from their labors to the glad reunion, never to part, of the spirits of the redeemed, who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

October 30 th, 1894 J. T .C.