World — Vanity of Paternity of. – Charles Spurgeon

My friends, do you remember that old Scythian custom, when the head of a house died? How he was dressed in his finest dress, and set in his chariot, and carried about to his friends’ houses; and each of them placed him at his table’s head, and all feasted in his presence! Suppose it were offered to you, in plain words, as it too offered to you in dire facts, that you should gain this Scythian honour, gradually, while you yet thought yourself; iliac. Suppose the offer were this: You shall die slowly; your blood shall daily grow cold, your flesh petrifies, your heartbeat at last only as a rusty group of iron valves. Your life shall fade from you and sink through the earth into the ice of Caine; but day by day your body shall be dressed more gaily, and set in higher chariots, and have more orders on its breast, crowns on its head, if you will. Men shall bow before it, stare and shout round it, crowd after it up and down the streets; build palaces for it, feast with it at their tables’ heads all the night long; your soul shall stay enough within it to know what they do and feel the weight of the golden dress on its shoulders, and the furrow of the crown edge o«. the skull; no more. Would you take the offer, verbally made by the death angel? Would the meanest among us take it, think you? Yet practically and verily we grasp at it, every one of us, in a measure; many of us grasp at it in its fulness of horror. Every man accepts it who desires to advance in life without knowing what life js ; who means only that he is to get more horses, and more footmen, and more fortune, and more public honour, and— not more personal soul. He only is advancing in life whose heart is getting softer, whose Holod warmer, whose brain quicker, whose spirit is entering into living peace. — Yohn Ruskin.