The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1888-03-08

sometimes get weary, and many who
sang very sweetly do not sing now; but
I hope by the grace of God we will, after
while, go up and sing the praises of
Christ where we will meyer be weary.
You know there are some songs that are
especially appropriate for the home
circle. They stir the soul, they start the
tears, they turn the heart in on itself,
and keep sounding after the tune has
stopped, like some cathedral bell which,
long after the tap of the brazen tongue
has ceased, keeps throbbing on the air.
Well, it will be a home song in heaven:
all the sweeter because those who sang
with us in the domestic circle on earth
shall join that great harmony.
Jerusalem, my happy home,
Name dear to me;
When shall my labors have an end
In joy and peace in thee?
On earth we sang harvest songs as the
wheat came into the barn, and the bar
racks were filled. You know there is no
such time on farm as when they get
the crops in; and SO in heaven it will be
a harvest song on the part of those who
on earth sowed in tears and reaped in
Joy. Lift up your heads, We everlasting
gates, and let the sheaves come in!
Angels shout all through the heavens,
ing: Harvest home! harvest home!''
There is nothing more bewitching to
ones ear than the song of sailors far out
at sea, whether in day or night, as they
pull away at the ropes; the music is
weird and thrilling. So the song in
heaven will be a sailors song. They
We're voyagers once, and thought they
could never get to shore, and before they
could get things snug and trim the
cyclone struck them. But now they are
safe. Once they went with damaged
rigging, guns of distress booming
through the storm; but the pilot came
aboard, and he brought them into the
harbor. Now they sing of the breakers
past, the lighthouses that showed them
where to sail, the pilot that took them
through the straits, the eternal shore on
which they landed.
Ay, it will be the children's song. You
know very well that the vast ma jority of
our race die in infancy, and it is esti-
mated that eighteen thousand millions of
the little ones are standing before God.
When they shall rise up about the throne
to sing, the millions and the millions of
the little ones-ah! that will be music for
you. These played in the streets of Baby
Ion and Thebes these plucked lilies from
the foot of Olivet while Christ was
preaching about them: these waded in
Sloan; these We're victims of Herod's
massacre; these were thrown to croco-
diles or into the fire; these came up from
Christian homes, and these were found
Gngs on the city commons-children
everywhere in all that land: children in
the towers, children on the seas of glass,
children on the battlements. All, if you
do not like children do not go there.
They are in vast majority, and what a
song when they lift it around about the
throne
The Christian singers and composers of
all ages will be there to join in that song.
Thomas Hastings will be there. Lowell
Mason will be there Bradbury will be
there. Beethoven and Mozart will be
there. They who sounded the cymbals
and the trumpets in the ancient temples
will be there. The forty thousand harp
ers that stood at the ancient dedication
will be there. The two hundred singers
that assisted on that day will be there.
Patriarchs who lived amidst threshing
floors, shepherds who watched amidst
Chaldean hills, prophets who walked,
with long boards and coarse apparel, pro-
nouncing woe against ancient abomina-
lions, will meet the more recent martyr
who went up with leaping cohorts of fire ;
and some will speak of the Jesus of
whom they prophesied, and others of the
Jesus for whom they died. Oh, what a
songl 1t came to John upon Patmos; it
came to Calvin in the prison; it dropped
to John Knox in the fire; and sometimes
that song has come to your ear, perhaps,
for really do think it sometimes breaks
over the battlements of heaven.
A Christian woman, the wife of q min
lister of the Gospel, was dying in the par
sonage near the old church, where on
Saturday night the choir used to as
semble and rehearse for the following
Sabbath, and she said: ''How strangely
sweet the choir rehearses tonight; they
have been rehearsing there for an hour. %
''No, said some one about her, ''the
choir is not rehearsing tonight. - eyes, F"
she said, Il know they ere; l hear them
sing; how very sweetly they singh Now
it was not a choir of earth that she
heard, but the choir of heaven. [ think
that Jesus sometimes sets ajar the door
of heaven, and a passage of that rapture
greets our ears. The MINISTRIES of heaven
strike such a tremendous strain the
walls of jasper cannot hold it.
I wonder, will you sing that song:
Will sing it? Not unless our sins are
pardoned, and we learn now to sing the
praise of Christ, will we ever sing ii
there. The first great concert that
ever attended was in New York, when
Julien, in the Crystal Palace, stood be-
fore hundreds of singers and hundreds OF
players upon instruments. Some of you
may remember that occasion; it was the
first one of the kind at which l was
present, and I shall never forget it.
saw that one man standing, and with the
hand and foot WELD that great harmony,
beating the time. 1t was to me over
whelming. But oh, the grander scene
when they shall come from the east, and
from the west, and from the north, and
from the south, "a great multitude that
no man can number, - into the temple OF
the skies, host beyond host, rank beyond
rank, gallery above gallery, and Jesus
shall stand before that great host to con.
duct the harmony, with his wounded
hands and his wounded feet! Like the
voice of many waters, like the voice OF
mighty thunderings, they shall cry.
worthy is the lamb that was slain tc
receive blessings, and riches, and honor,
and glory, and power, world without
end. Amen and amenr Oh, if my cal
shall hear no other sweet sounds, may
hear thati If I join no other glad as.
semblage, may join that.
1 was reading of the battle of Agin.
court, in which Henry V. figured and
it is said after the battle WAS won, glori
ously won, the king wasted to acknowl
edge the divine interpo 1tion, and he or
dered the chaplain to rad the Psalm Of
David, and when ne c;lme to the words
mot unto US, OH Lord, but unto thy
name be tn. aise." the king dis
mounted, AMI ell the ctvalry dismounted
aud all the great host. officers and men,
threw themselves on their faces. Oh, al
the story Of the Saviour's love and the