Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-03-23

| the farmer is going to do nowgv The farmer
bitches the horses to the harrow and it goes
| bounding and tearing across the field Next
| day there is a rattle at the bars again. and the
| field says: "Wh t is the farmer going to do
now?" He walks heavily across the field scat
| tering seed as he walks. Aft r while
a cloud comes. The field SAYS:
what more trOuble?" 1t begins TO
rain. After a while the wind changes to the
| northeast and it begins to snow. Says the
| field ais 10 not enough that have been torn
| and trampled upon and drowned? Must |
now be showed underg" After a while spring
comes out Of the gates Of the south and
| warmth and gladness come with 1t. green
| scarf bandages the cash of the wheat-ield
ana the July morning drops crown of gold
on the head OF the grain. "Oh," saws the field,
''now know the use of the plOw, of the har-
row, of the heavy foot. of the shower, and of
| the snow storm. 1t is well enough to be trod-
| den and trampled and drowned and showed
under If in the end can yield such glorious
| harvest "He that g0eth forth and weepeth,
| bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come
again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves
with him."
When l see God, especially busy IN troub-
| ling and trying q Christian, know that out
of that Christians character there is to come
some especial good. A quarry man goes
down into the excavation, and. with strong
handed machinery, bores into the rock. The
| rock says: what do you do that for?" He
puts powder in: he lights a fuse. There is q
laundering crash. The rock says: "Why, the
whole mountain Is going to pieces" The
| crowbar Is plunged; the rock is dragged ont.
After awhile 1t is taken into the artists
studio. 1t says: swell, now, l have got to
good. warm, comfortable place at last"
But the sculptor takes the chisel and mallet,
and he digs for the eyes. and he cuts for the
mouth, and he bOres for the ear, and he rubs
it with sand paper until the rock says:
when Will this torture be ended?" A sheet
is thrown over it. 1t stands in darkness,
After awhile it is taken out. The covering is
removed. 1t stands in the sunlight In the
presence OF 10000 applaudlng people as they
greet the statue OF the poet, or the prince, or
the conqueror. "Ahr' says the stone, snow
l understand it. l am a great deal
better off now, standing as statue
of conqueror than I would have
been down in the quarry. 80 God finds a
man down in the quarry OF ignorance and
sin. How to get him up2 He must be bored
and blasted and chlseled and secured and
stand sometimes in the darkness. But after
awhile the mantle of afiiictiOn will fall of and
and his soul will be greeted by the one hun
dred and forty -four thousand and the thou
sands of thousands as more than conqueror.
| D, my friends. God, our Mother, is just, as
kind in our affections as in our prOsperltles.
God never touches us but for our good. If a
field clean and cultured is better off than
barren field, and if a stone that has become a
statue is better off than the marble in the
quarry, then that soul that God chasteDs
may be his favOrite. Oh, the rocking of the
soul is not the rocking of an ear thquake, bat
the rocking of Gods cradle. "As one whom
his mother cOmforteth, SO VIII | comfort you"
[ have been told that the pearl in an oyster is
merely the result of a wound, or a sickness,
inflicted upon il, and do not know but that
the brightest gems of heaven will be found to
have been the wounds of earth kindled into
the jeweed brightness of eternal glory.
remark that nod has mothers capacity
for attending to little hurts. The father is
shocked at the broken bone of the child or at
the sickness that sets the cradle on fire with
fever, but 1T takes the mother to sympathize
with all the little ailments and little bruises
of the child. If the child have a splinter in
its hand, it wants the mother to take it out
and not the father. The father says: "Oh, !
that is nothing" but the mother knows it is |
something, and that a little hurt sometimes |
IS very great hurt. So with God our
Mother; all our annoyanccs are important |
enough to look at and sympathiZe with. No |
thing with God is something. There are no |
ciphers in Gods arithmetic. And If we were |
only good enough OF sight we could as |
much through microscope as through a tel |
escope. Those things that may be impalpa- |
bic and infinitesimal to US, may be pro- |
nOunced and infinite to God, A mathe- |
matlcal point is defined as having no parts, no |
magnitude. 1t is so small you cannot imagine |
it and yet mathematical point may be a |
starting point for great eternity. Gods |
surveyors carry very long chain. A scale |
may be very delicate that can weigh grain, |
but Gods scale Is so delicate that he can |
weigh with it that which is so small that |
grain is a million times heavier. When, John |
Kits, a poor boy on a back street of Ply
mouth, cut his foot with piece of glass, God |
bound 1t up so successfully that he became |
the great Christian geOgrapher, and a COM |
mentator known among all nations. So every |
wound of the soul, however insignificant, God |
is willing to bind up, As at the first cry of !
the child the mother rushes to kiss the wound, |
so God, our Mother takes the smallest wound |
of the heart and presses it to the lips in divine
sympathy. "As one whom his mother CON- |
forteth, so will l comfort you"
| remark further, that God has a mothers |
patience for the erring. If one does wrong, |
first his associates in life cast him of; if he /
goes on in the wrong way, his business part
ner casts him of; if he goes on his best friends
cast. him of-his father casts him Off But |
after all others have cast him off, where does |
ne go? Who holds no grudge and forgiyes the |
asst time as well as the firstY Who sits by the
murderer's counsel all through the long trial? |
Who tarries the longest at the windows of a |
culprlts cell? Who, when all others think i'll !
of man, keeps on thinking well of him? Ii /
is his mother. God bless her gray hairs. if |
she be still alive; and bless her grave If she
be gone; and bless the rocking chair in
which she used to sit; and bless the cradle
that she used to rock; and bless the Bible she
used to read. So God, our Mother, has pa
tience for all the erring, After everybody
else has cast man OFF, God, our Mother, !
Of a bad case. After all the other doctors |
have got through the heavenly physician
comes in. Human sympathy at such time |
does not amount to much, Even the SYM
pathy Of the church, l am sorry |
TO say, often does not amount n to |
much. have seen the most harsh |
ana bitter treatment on the part of tho2e who
professed faith in Christ toward those who |
were wagering and erring. They tried on the
wanderer sarcasm and biilingsgate and carr
cature, and they tried tttle-tattle. There was
one thing they did not try, and that Was for
glveness. A soldier in England was brought
by Sergeant to the Colonel. ''What0 saws
the Colonel, "bringing the man here againl
we nave tried everything with him.'' skOh
no." says the Sergeant "there is one thin3
you have not tried. l would like You to trY
that" What is thatP' said the Colonel. SAID
the man, forgiveness" The case had NOT
gone so far but that it might take that turn
and so the Colonel said: "Well, Young man
you have done so and so. What is your ex
cuseE, II nave nave no excuse, but am very
sorry" said the man. 1--WE have made up Our
minds to forgive yOu," said the Colonel. The
tears started. He had never been accosted IN
mat t way before. His life wss reformed and /
tnaC was the starting point Sor positiyeIv /
Christian life. o, church of Coo cult youf
sarcasm when man f@lls Quit your IRONY. |
9ul1g 91 your tlttlestAttle and try forgiveness
man sln may be like continent but Gods
forgiveness is like the Atlantic and Pacific
oceans, bounding it on both Sides
me BIBLE often talks about Gods band. /
WOnQef now 1t looks. You Remember dis-
tinctly how your mothers hand leohed I
IN ugh thlrty years ago it witbered AWAY. IL
was dlnerent from your fathers hand. When
you were TO be chasbisea you had rather have
mother punish Yoe than father 1t did NOT
nurt SO mucb: Ana fathers hand was differ
ent IsotF mothers, partly because it had out
to be different. The knuckles were roore 70
nrlnly set and the palm was calloused Rnt
mother's hand was more delicate iPhere |
were Dlue veins running through the back of
II. I1ougn the fingers, some OF them. were
picked with Needle. the palm Of il was very
soit, az there ever a poultIce like thar 10 |
take pam out OF Wound3 So Gods hand js |
motner's hand. What it touches IT heals.
~ ~ snlte you II does not hurt as if it were an
i OsAoh nahu. "a You poor. wandering soul in
SIN, 1t Is not a bailiG's hand that eizes Won to-
day, It ls not hard hand. 1t is not an nm
sympathetic hand. 1t is not cold hand. II
Is not an enemy's hand. No. 1t is q gentle
mana, loving hand, sympathetic hand a |
SOFT hand, mothers hand. 'As one whom
his mother comforteth, so vii. | comfort
you"
l want to say, orally, that Coo has a
know there j. no cradle song Ike a motber;s
AFTER I-e excitement OF the evening it is almost
III possible TO get the child to sleep. If the
rocklng-chalr stop moment, the eyes are !
Wlde open} but the mothers patience and the
mothers soothing manner keep on until, after
a while, the angel of slumber puts his wing
over the pillow. Well, my dear brothers and |
sisters in Christ, the time will come when we /
will be wanting to be put to sleep. The day 81
our Q o9 NE wiz pc cone, and the shadows OF she
night of death will be gathering around us.
Then we want God to sOothe US, 10 hush us IN |
sleep. Let the music at our going nor he the |
dirge of the organ or the knell Of the church
tower or the drumming of 'dead march,"
but let 1t be the hush OF a mothar's IuIIoh1
On, the cradle OF the grave will be soft win
the pillow OF all the promises When Cve orc |
being rocked into that last slumber I wsnS 4
this to be the cradle-song: ""AN@
GAS one whom mother comforteth 40 ,.,,,,
l comfort you" ~ ~
ASLEEP In Jesus! Far iron, thee
Ihy aindred and their graves NAV be:
cut thine IS stu blessed sleep,
FROM Whlcn noAe ever wake to weep.'1
A ScotcAman was dying. His daughter.
Neil1e sat 1y the bedside. 1t was Sunday |