The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1888-12-14
THE KING OF GLORY.
Or. Talmage Discourses on the
Fragrance of the Gospel
Christ Arrayed In Fragrant Garments Typ.
ical of Mercy-His Suffering for Mortais
Sims Marasmus-The Ivory Pal
aces of Heaven.

Dew lit Talmage preached from the text:
"All thy garments smell of myrrh, and
aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory pal.
aces"-Psalms xiv. 8. He said:
Among the grand adornments Of the city
of Paris is the Church of Notre Dame, with
its great towers and elaborated rose win.
dows and sculpturing of the Last Judg.
ment with the trumpeting angels and
rising dead, its battiements of quatrefofl,
its sacristy with ribbed ceiling and statues
of saints. But there was nothing in all
that building which more wildly appealed
to my plain republican tastes than the
costly vestments which lay in oaken
presses-robes that had been embroidered
with gold and been worn by Popes and
Archbishops on great occasions. There
was a robe that had been worn by Plus
VII at the browning of the first Napoleon.
There was also vestment that had been
worn at the baptism of Napoleon IL
As our guide opened the oaken presses
and brought out these vestments of fabu-
lous cost and lifted them up the fragrance
of the pungent aromatics in which they
b ad been preserved filled the place with a
sweetness that was almost oppressive.
Nothing that had been done in stone more
wildly impressed me than these things
that had been done in cloth and embroid-
ery and perfume. But to-day l open the
drawer of this text and l look upon the
kingly robes of Christ, and as lift them,
flashing with eternal jewels, the whole
house is filled with the aroma of these gar
meuts, which "smell of myrrh and aloes
and cassia out of the ivory palaces"
In my text the King steps forth. His
robes rustic and blaze as he advances.
His pomp and power and glory overmaster
the spectator. More brilliant is He than
Queen Vashti, moving amid the Persian
princes; than Marie Antoinette on the day
when Louis XVI put upon her the neck
lace of so diamonds; than Anne
Boleyn the day when Henry VIII.
welcomed her to his palace;
all beauty and all pomp for
gotten while we stand in the pres
ence of this imperial glory, King of Zion,
King of Earth, King of Heaven, King for
eEerl His garments are not worn out, not
dust bedraggled, but radiant and jeweled
and redolent. It seems as if they must
have been pressed hundred years amid
the flowers of Heaven. The wardrobes
from which they have been taken must
have been sweet with clusters of camphor
cious wood. Do you not inhale the odors?
Aye, aye. They smell of myrrh and aloes
and cassia out of the ivory palaces.
Your first curiosity is TO know why the
robes of Christ are odorous with myrrh.
This was abright-leafed Abyssinian plant
1t was trifoliated. The Greeks, Egyptians,
Romans and Jews bought and sold it at a
high price. The first present that was
ever given to Christ was a sprig of myrrh,
thrown on His infantile bed in Bethlehem,
ana the last gift that Christ ever had was
myrrh pressed into the cup of His cruel
fixion. The natives would take a stone
and bruise the tree and then it would ex-
ude gum that would saturate all the
ground beneath. This gum was used for
purposes of merchandise. One piece of it,
no larger than a chestnut, would whelm
"a whole room with odors. 1t was
put in closets, in chests, in drawers, in
rooms, and its perfume adhered almost in
terminably to any thing that was any
where near it. So when in my text | read
that Christ's garments smell of myrrh, /
immediately conclude the exquisite sweet
ness of Jesus. 1 know that to many He is
only like any historical person, another
John Howard; another philanthropic
Oberlin; another Confucius; a grand SUBJ
ject for painting; a heroic theme for a
poem; a beautiful form for a statue; but
to those who have heard His voice. and
felt His pardon, and received His benedic-
siaon, He is music. and light, and warmth,
and thrill, and eternal fragrance. Sweet
as friend sticking to you when all else
betray. Lifting you up while others try
TO push you down. Not so much like
morning -glories, that bloom only when the
sun is coming up, nor like 'four o'clocks, T"
that bloom only when the sun is going
down, but like myrrh, perpetually aro-
snatic-the same morning, noon and night
yesterday, to-day, forever.
1t seems as il we can not wear Him out.
We put on him all our burdens, and afiict
Him with all our griefs, and set Him fore
most in all our battles, and yet He is ready
80 lift and 10 sympathize and to help. We
have so imposed upon Him that one would
think in eternal affront He would quit our
soul; and yet to-day he addresses us with
the same tenderness, dawns upon US with
the same smile, pities US with the same
compassion. There is no name like His
for us. 1t is more imperial than Casar's,
more musical than Beethoven's, more con-
quering than Charlemagne's, more elo-
quent than Cicero's. It throbs with all
life. 1t weeps with all pathos. 1t groans
with all pain. 1t stoops with all conde-
scension. 1t breathes with all perfume.
Who like Jesus to set a broken bone, to pity
a homeless orphan, to nurse a sick man, to
take prodigal back without any scolding,
to illuminate . cemetery all plowed with
graves, to make Queen unto God out of
the lost woman of the street, to catch the
tears of human sorrow in a lachrymatory
that shall never be broken? Who has such
an eye to see our needs, such a lip to kiss
away our sorrow, such a hand to snatch
us out of the fire, such a foot to trample
our enemies, such a heart to embrace all
our necessitiess / struggle with some
metaphor with which to express Him. He
as not like the bursting forth of a full
orchestra; that Is too loud He is not
like the SEA when dashed to rage by the
tempest; that as too boisterous, He is not
like the mountain, its brow wreathed with
the lightnings; that is too solitary. Give
rs softer type, a gentler comparison.
We have seemed to see Him with our eyes,
and TO touch Him with our hands. 0, that
to-day he might appear to some other one
of our five senses! Aye, the nostril shall
discover his presence. He comes upon us
like spice gales from Heaven. Yea, His
garments smell of pungents, lasting and
ElI-pervasive myrrh.
o, thatyou all knew His sweetness. How
soon you would turn from your novels. If
the philosopher ieaped out of his bath in a
frenzy of joy and capped his hands and
rushed through the streets, because he had
found the solution OF a mathematical
problem, how Will you feel leaping from
she fountain of n SaviouI's mercy and
pardon, washed clean and made white as
snow, when the question has been solved:
%.How can my soul be sayed;" Naked,
frost-bitten, storm-lashed soul, let Jesus
this hour throw around thee the garments