The Lincoln County leader. [volume] (White Oaks, Lincoln County, N.M.) 1882-189?, 1888-04-21
RELIGIOUS DEPARTMENT.
SHOUTING.
ny CHAP AIN C. C. McCABE.

why it annoys youI To tell the
truth, have you not been so ego
tistical as to conclude that, Of
course, you are just in the right
spiritual condition yourself to make
you a competent Judge of the pro-
priety OF shouting the praise of
God!
The sweetest note that ever fell
from mn angels harp would be only
another discord IN the iangle of
some tunes. Now, may it not be
that your whole heart is so out of
tune with any sort of worship but
what is formal, cold, l~iteless and
dreadtully proper, that you would
not know the bells of heaven if you
should hear them ringing. Last
Sabbath, while your pastor was
preaching from the text ''He was
rich, yet tor your sakes he became
poor, that we through his poverty
might be rich," that poor washer
woman up in the "Amen corner"
with a little tatherless boy on eth
err side of her, was wonderfully
happy.
First there was a light, n strange
unearthly light, cleaning upon her
t~ear-stained checks; and then,
when the preacher described the
wealth there is IL Jesus, that poor
woman, though by nature as mod
est as you are, and shrinking ever
from the public gaze, yet her cup
of blessing ran over; she raised
her withered hands, she clapped
them in holy rapture, shouted
"Glory! glory! glory to God!' un;
til the church rang again, and the
preacher stopped preaching, and
covered his face with his. hands and
wept for Joy.
Did you not notice how awe
stricken her children seemed while
they gazed upon herr All! well
they knew the story of those
wrinkled hands that kept toiling
on shat they might have bread!
Those beautiful hands! Well they
knew how knew how their simple
home was illuminated and made
glorious by her sanity life; but
they do not know just yet how
tightly her grave will hold them
to truth and virtue when she is
dead, They do not know Just yet
how unspeakable sacred will be
to them the old Bidle from which
she reads, the old char in which
she sits. They do not know as yet how
the echo of her voice will sound in the
very depths of their souls in temptations
darkest hours. Yet her shouting troubled
YOU You SAID something to your neigh
Dor in the next pew about feeble mind
ed and uncultivated people" Ali my
friend, you never saw the inside Of heav-
en- from the depths of poverty and the
midnight Of sorrow.
Mother Stoner is eighty five years old.
and lies upon q bed of ceascless pain.
heart and flesh arc failing fast. Many
years ago she was called ''the shouting
Methodist" Even the little boys used to
follow her in the streets, and cry GLORY
after her as she passed along. The has
| c II shouting ever since.
Yesterday we were singing Let me go,
It's Jesus calls me" and the old familiar
GLORY" came from her aged lips, and
her dim eyes lighted up with joy, and she
waved her hands in token Of victory
Bro. Sears, her pastor, shouted with her.
Who is Mother Stonerf Many years ago
she was exalted to the high position of
Sabbath scho teacher one day she saw
II little whith-haiIed boy lingering about
the door Of the church. She went out,
laid her hand upon his head, and invited
him into her class. Some time aftcrward
she led him TO the mourner's bench. lie
was converted to God, and Mother Stoner
shouted over him.
The boy became an able preacher OF
the gospel lie has been n missionary. he
has been editor Of the Ladies Repository.
hc is now Bishop Wiley, and will some
day be IA redeemcd saint before the tnrone
Of God
In another room Of the same house with
Mrs. Stoner lies a beloved daughter, who
for ten years has not been able to leave
her bed. Is she happy? In many a days
tourney yon will not look upon so rest