Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1888-12-21

| trouble, but instead of drowning his
trouble browns his body and browns his
soul.
But here Is a Christian. ;young man
| Trouble comes to him. Does he give
up? No He throws himself back Oh
the resources of heaven. he says:
"God is my father. Out of all these dis
asters 1 shall pluck advantage for my
soul. All the promises are mine, Christ is
mine, Christian companionship is mine
heaven Is mine. What though my apparel
be worn out? Christ gives me robe of
| righteousness What though my money
be gone? have title deed to the whole
universe in the promise, AN are
yours. What though my worldly friends
fall away? Ministering angels are my
bodyguard What though my fare be
poor and my bread be scant? l sit at the
Kings banquet.
oh, what a poor, shallow stream is
worldly enjoyment compared with the
| deep, broad, overflowing river of God s
peace, rolling midway in the Christian
heart! Sometimes you have gone out on
| the iron-bound beach of the sea when
| there has been storm on the ocean, and
you have seen the waves dash into white
foam at your feet. They did not do you
any harm. While there, you thought of
the chapter written by the Psalmist, and
perhaps you recited it to yourself while
the storm was making commentary upon
the passage: "God is our refuge and
strength, a very present
HELP IN TIME OF TROUBLE
Therefore will not fear though the earth
be removed, and though the mountains
be carried into the midst of the sea;
though the waters thereof roar and be
troubled, though the mountains shake
with the swelling thereof. Selah!'
Oh, how Independent the religion of
Christ makes man of worldly success
and worldly circumstances! Nelson, the
night before his last battle said: "'To-
morrow 1 shall either win peerage or a
grave in Westminster abbey And it
does not make much difference to the
Christian whether he rises or falls in
worldly matters; he has everlasting re-
nown anyway. Other plumage may be
torn in the blast but that soul adorned
with Christian grace is fairer than the
dove, its wings covered with silver
and its feathers with yellow gold.
You and have found out that people
who pretend to be happy are not always
happy. Look at that young man carl
caturing the Christian religion,
scoffing at everything good, going
into registering drunkenness, dashing
the champagne bottle to the floor,
rolling the glasses from the
bar-room counter, laughing, shouting
stamping the floor, shrieking. Is he
happy? / will go to his midnight pillow
l will see him turn the gas off. 1 will
ask myself if the pillow on which he
sleeps is as soft as the pillow on which
that pure young man sleeps. All! no.
When he opens his eyes in the morning,
will the world be as bright to him rs ito
that young man who retired at night say
ing his prayers, invoking Gods blessing
upon his own soul and the souls of his
comrades, and father and mother and
brother and sister far away. No, no.
His laughter will ring out from the saloon
SO that you can hear it as you pass by,
but it is hollow laughter; in it is the snap
ping of heart-strings and
THE RATTLE OF PRISON GATES.
Happy! that young man happy? Let
him fill high the bowl; he cannot drown
an upbraiding conscience. Let the balls
roll through the bowling alley; the deep
rumble and the sharp crack cannot
overpower the voices of condemnation.
Let him whirl in the dance of
sin and temptation and death. All the
brilliancy of the scene cannot make him
forget the last look of his mother, as he
left home, when she said to him: Now,
my son, you Will do right, am sure you
VIII do right; you will, won't you?'
That young man happy? Why, across
every night there fits shadows of eternal
darkness; there adders coiled up in every
cup; there are vultures of despair strik-
ing their iron beak into his heart; there
are skeleton fingers. of grief pinching at
his throat come in amid the clicking
of the glasses and under the flashing of
the chandeliers, and 1 cry: "Woel woe!
The way of the ungodly shall perish
There is no peace, saith my God, to the
wicked. The way of transgressors
is hard Oh, my friends,
there is more joy in one
drop of Christian satisfaction than in
whole rivers of sinful delight. Other
wings may be drenched of the storm and
splashed of the tempest, but the dove
that comes in through the window of this
heavenly ark has wings like the dove
covered with silver, and her feathers
with yellow gold.
Again l remark, religion is an adorn-
ment in the style of usefulness into
which it inducts man. Here are two
young men. The one has fine culture,
exquisite wardrobe, plenty of friends,
great worldly success, but he lives for
himself. His chief care is for his own
comfort. He lives uselessly. He dies
Here is another young man.
His apparel may not be so good, his edu-
cation may not be SO thorough. He lives
for others. His happiness is to make
Others happy. He is as self-denying as
that dying soldier
FAILING IN THE RANKS,
when he said: Colonel, there is no need
of those boys firing themselves by carry
ing me to the hospital; let me die just |
where L am So this young man of |
whom l speak loves God, wants all the |
world to love Him, is not ashamed to |
carry bundle of clothes up that dark |
alley to the poor. Which of those young
men do you admire the better? The one |
a sham, the other prince imperial
Oh, do you know of anything, my |
nearer, that is more beautiful than to see |
q young man start out for Christ? Here |
is some one falling; he lifts him up. |
Here is a vagabond boy; he introduces
him to mission school. Here is a fam |
lily freezing to DEATH he carries them q |
scuttle of coal. There are 500 900 900 |
perishing in midnight heather darkness;
by all possible means he tries to send to |
them the Gospel. He may be laughed 4
at and he NAV be sneered at and he |