The Life and Labors of Theodore Sutton Parvin, A. M., LL. D., Grand Secretary of the Grand Lodge of Iowa, A. F. & A. M., from Its Institution in 1844, to the Time of His Death in 1901 - Softcover

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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1906. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XX. THE LAST OF EARTH. T 1:30 on the afternoon of June 28, 1901, the spirit of Theodore S. Parvin quitted its tenement of clay, and passed into eternal rest. Relating the last days and scenes, the present writer can, not perhaps improve upon his own words, written at the time as a record for the press: The chimes that sound for evensong are sweeter-toned than all the clamorous bells of day. His soul has passed; God grant to him eternal peace. Like one who sinks from fitful dreaming into sounder sleep; so softly that the watchers scarce knew the moment of the change, the soul of this our elder brother parted from its outworn shell. The black wing of Asrael brushed lightly across his wearied eyelids and soothed to everlasting rest. He leaves no uncompleted work. To few men is it given to see and to enjoy full fruition of labor. One toils even upon the foundation, and lo, the Master calls. Another brings to partial form his soul structure, and with the full ambitious plan clear in his mind, must drop the working tools. Happy, then, the man to whom long years are given--years filled with ardent toil and rich accomplishment. To such death comes in gentle guise, as comes the evening to one weary. The valley of the shadow is haunted with no vain regrets. There are no specters of neglected opportunities, nor accusing voices raised by memories of departed days. And thus, when there was no longer hope of recovery, only the patient waiting for the end, the spirit of "Father" Parvin went forth from the bed of pain to retrace the pathway of his life. He heard long-stilled voices whispering to him from out the shadows of the dead years; called forth from grassy graves the friends of long ago, and in that blessed borderland, where soul meets soul and there is ne...

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