The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1888-03-06
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
Preached Yesterday in Brooklyn
Tabernacle.

SA'Su iiSub udHu Oh fellowship, MAKING
the communicate membership four thousand
one hundred and fifty. Thousands of stran-
gers were present. The ten great silver tank
ards, and the long line of chalices made the
sacramental table very impressive.
Before sermon, the congregation, led by cor
net and organ, sang:
Whom earth shall pass away,
In the great Judgment Day,
Jesus is miner'
The Rev. I. Dewitt Talmage, D. D., took
as the subject of his discourse, "a Song Con-
corning My Beloved" His text was Isaiah
g. /: "Now will 1 sing to my well beloved
song of my beloved" DR.. Talmage said:
The most fascinating theme for q heart
properly attuned, is the Saviour. There is
something in the morning light to suggest Him,
and something in the evening shadow to speak
His praise. The flower breathes Him, the
star shines Him, the cascade procainls Him,
all the voices of nature chantH i'm. Whatever
is grand, bright and beautiful, if you only list
en- to it, will speak His praise. When L como
III the summer time and pluck flower, l
think of Him who is ''The Rose of Sharon and
the Lily of the Valley" When 1 see in the
fields lamb, say: "Behold the Lamb of
God that taketh away the sin of the world"
When, in very hot weather, / come under q
projecting cliff, say:
"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in theel'
Over the old-fashioned pulpits there was
sounding board. The voice of the minister
rose to the sounding-board, and then was
struck back again upon the ears of the people.
And SO the ten thousand voices of earth rising
up find the heavens q sounding-boar which
strikes back to the ear of all tho nations the
praises of Christ. The heavens tell His glory
and the earth shows His handiwork. The BIZ
bic thrills with one great story of redemption.
Upon a blasted and faded paradise it poured
the light OF glorious restoration. IT looked
upon Abraham from the ram caught in the
thlcket. 1t spoke in the bleating of the herds
driven down to Jerusalem for sacrifice. Itput
infinite pathos into the speech of uncouth fish
ermen. 1tlifted Paul into the seventh heaven;
and 1t broke upon the ear of st. John with the
brazen trumpets and the doxology of the elders
and the rushing wings of the seraphim.
Instead of waiting until you get sick and
worn out before you speak the praise of Christ,
while your heart is happiest and your step is
lightest, and your fortunes smile, and your
pathway blossoms, and the overarching heav-
ems drop upon you their benediction, speak the
praises of Jesus.
The old Greek orators, when they saw their
audience inattentive and sumbering. had one
word with which they would rouse them up to
the greatest enthusiasm. In the midst of their
oratlons they would stop and cry out "Marath-
on! and tho peoples enthusiasm would be
unoounded. My hearers, though you may
have been borne down with sin, and though
trouble, and trials, and temptation may have
come upon you, and you feel hardly like look
ing up. me thinks there is one grand, royal,
imperial word that ought to rouse your soul to
infinite rejoicing, and that word is "Jesus!''
Taking the suggestion of the text, shall
speak to you of Christ, our song. remark, in
the first place. that Christ ought to be the
cradle-song. What our mothers sang to us
when they put us to sleep is singing yet. We
may have forgotten the words, but they went
INTO the fibre of our soul, and will forever be
part OF it, 1t is not SO much what you form
ally teach your children as what you sing to
them. A hymn has wings and can fly every
whittier. One hundred and fifty years after
you are dead, and "Old Mortality has worn
out his chisel in recruiting your name on the
tombstone, your REORGANIZATION will be
singing the song which this afternoon you sing
to your little ones gathered about your knee.
There is place in Switzerland where, if you
distinctly utter your voice, there come back
ten or fifteen distinctive echoes, and every
Christian song sung by a mother in the ear of
her child shall have ten thousand echoes COM
ing back from all the gates of heaven. Oh, if
mothers only knew the power of this sacred
spell, how much oftener the little ones would
be gathered, and all our homes would chime
with the songs of Jesus.
We want some counteracting influence upon
our children. The very moment your child
steps into the street, he steps into the path of
temptation. There are foul-mouthed children
who would like to besoil your little ones 1t
will not do to keep your boys and girls in tho
house and make them house-plants they rust
have fresh air and recreation. God save your
children from the scathing, blasting, damning
influence of the streetsl know Of no coun-
teracting influence but the power of Christian
culture and example. Hold before your little
ones the pure life of Jesus let that name be
the word that shall exercise evil from theiI
hearts. Give to your instruction all the fascina-
ton of music, morning, noon and night; let it
be Jesus, the cradle-song. This is important
II your children grow up, but perhaps they
may not. Their pathway may be short.
Jesus may be wanting that child. Then there
will be soundless step in the dwelling, and
the youthful pulse will begin to futter, and
little hands will be lifted for help. You can
not help And great agony will pinch at
your heart, and the cradle will be empty, and |
be empty, and your soul will be empty. No
little feet standing on tho stairs. No toys
scattered on the carpet No quick following
from room to room. No strange and wonder
ing questions. No upturned face, with laugh
ing blue eyes, come for a kiss; but only
grave, and wreath of white blossoms on tho
top of it; and bitter Idesolation, and signing
at night-fall with one to put to bed,
and wet pillow, and grave, and q wreath
OF white blossoms on the top Of
that lamb safely anyhow, whether you have
been faithful or unfaithful; but would it not
have been pleasanter If you could have heard
from those lips the PHASES Of Christ? / never
read anything more beautiful than this about
a child's departure. The account said, "She
folded her hands, kissed her mother goodbye,
sang her hymn, turned her face to the wall,
said her little prayer, and then died"
Oh, il i could gather up in one paragraph
the last words of the little ones who have gone
out from all these Christian circles and | could
picture the calm looks, and the folded hands,
and sweet departure, methnks it would DO
grand and beautiful as one Of heavens great
loxologesl
next speak of Christ as the old mans
song, Quick music loses its charm for
the aged ear The school girl |
asks for schottisch or glee but
her grandmother asks for "Balerma" or the
''Portugese Hymn" Fifty years Of trouble |
have tanned the spirit, and the keys Of the
music-board must have solemn tread. |
Though the voice may DO tremulous, SO that
grandfather will not trust il in church, still he
has the psalm book open before him. and he
sings with his soul. He huns his grandchild |
asleep with the same tune he sang forty years
ago in tho old country westinghouse. Some |
day the choir sings tune so old that tho |
young people do not know it, but it starts the
tears down tho cheek of the aged man, for 1t |
reminds him Of the revival scene in which he
and Of the radiant faces that long
since went to dust, and Of the gray haired min