The Russellville Democrat. [volume] (Russellville, Ark.) 1875-1898, 1888-03-15
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here. He said, sfOh, sometimes in the
n ght want to sing the praise of Jesus,
and to get down and pray; then ! just
Jake that plaid and wrap IL around me,
10 keen myself from the cold" Songs IN
The night Night Of trouble has come
down upon many of you. Commercial
losses put out one star, slanderous abuse
mt ont another star, domestic bereave-
nens has put out thousand lights, and
, gloom has been added to gloom, and
chill to chill, and sting to sting, and one
midnight has seemed to borrow the
fold from another midnight to wrap
Itself in more unbearable darkness;
but Christ has spoken peace to your
heart, and you can sing:
Jesus, lover OF my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the blllows near me roll,
While the tempest still is high
Hide me, o, my Saviour, hide,
TIL the storm OF life is past;
Safe into the hasen guide
oh, receive my soul at last
Songs in the night Songs In the
night For the sick, who have no one to
turn the hot pillow, no one to put the
taper on the stand, no one to put ice on
the temple, or pour out the soothing ano-
dvna, or utter one cheerful word-yet
songs in the night For the poor, who
freeze in the winters cold, and swelter
in the summers heat, and MUNICH the
hard crusts that bleed the sore gums, and
shiver under blankets that can not any
longer be patched, and tremble because
rent day Is come and they may be set out
on the sidewalk, and looking into the
starved face OF the child and seeing
famine there and death there, coming
home from the bakery and saying, in the
presence of the little famished ones: "Oh,
my God, -four has gone upP' Yet songs
in the night Songs in the night! For
the widow who goes TO get the
back pay of her husband, slam
by the "sharpsh ooters," and knows 1t is
the last help she will have, moving out OF
a comfortable home in desolation, death
turning back from the exhausting cough
and the pale cheek, and the lusterless eye
aud refusing all relief. Yet songs IN the
night! For the soldier in the field hospital,
no surgeon to bind up the gunshot tract
ure. no water for the hot lips, no kind
hands to brush away the flies from the
fresh wound, no one to lake the loving
farewell, the grooming Of others poured
into his own groan, the blaspbemy of
densed bitterness OF dying away from
home among strangers. Yet songs In the
night Songs in the night! "Ahp said
one diving soldier: "Tell my mother
that last night there was not one cloud
between my soul and Jesus" Songs in
the night! Songs in the night!
The Sabbath day has come. From the
affairs OF ten thousand churches has
smoked up the SAVIOR Of sacrifice. Min
listers OF the Gospel are now preaching In
plain English, in broad Scotch, In now
ing Italian, in harsh Choctaw. Gods
people have assem- BIZ ed in Hindoo temple,
and Moravian church, and Quaker meet
ing-house, and sailors bethel, and Kings
chapel, aud high lowered cathedral.
They sang, aud the song floated off
amidst the spice groves, or struck the ice
bergs, or floated off into the Western
pines, or was drowned in the clamor of
the great cities. Lumbermen sang it, and
the factory girls and the children in the
Sabbath class and the trained choirs in
great assemhlages. Trappers, with the
same voice with which they shouted yes
terday in the stag hunt, and mariners,
with threats that only a few days
ago sounded in the hoarse blast
OF the sea hurricane, they sang
it One theme for the sermons. One bur
den for the song. Jesus for the invoca-
ton. Jesus for the Scripture lesson
Jesus for the baptismal font. Jesus for
the sacramental cup. Jesus for the bene-
iiction. But the day will 90 by. 1t will
roll away on swift wheels of light and
love. Again the churches will be lighted.
Tides of people again setting down the
streets. Whole families coming up the
church aisle. We must have one more SER
mon, two prayers, three songs aud one
benediction. What shall we preach to-
nightr What shall we read? What shall
II be, children? Aged men and women,
what shall it be? Young men and maid
ems what shall it be? IL you dared to
break the silence of this auditory, there
would come up thousands of quick ana
jubilant voices, crying out; 'Let it be
Jesus Jesus"
We sing His birth--the barn that shelter
ed Him, the mother that nursed Him, the
cattle that fed beside him, the angels that
woke up the shepherds, shaking light
over the midnight hills. We sing His
ministry-the tears He wiped away from
the eyes of the orphans, the lame men
that forgot their crutehes, the damsel
who from the bier bounded out into the
sunli ght, her locks shaking down over the
flushed checks; the hungry thousand
who broke the bread as IL blossomed into
larger loaves--that miracle by which o
boy with five loaves and two fishes be-
came the sutler for a whole army. We
sing His sorrows-His stone bruised feet,
His aching heart His mountain lionel mess,
His desert hunger, His storm pelted body,
the eternity of anguish that shot through
His last moments, and the immea surable
ocean of torment that heaved up against
His cross in one foaming, omnipotent
surge, the sun dashed out and the dead,
shroud- wrapped, breaking open their
sepulchres. and rushing out TO see what
was the matter. We sing His resurrection
the guard that could not keep Him, the
sorrow of His disciple the cloud piling
up on either side in pillared splendors as
He went through treading the painless
afr. higher and higher, until He came TO
the foot of the throne, and all Heaven
kept jubilee at the return of the Con-
queror.
| say once more, Christ is the everlast-
ing song. The very best singers some.
times get tired; the strongest Threats
sometimes get weary, and many who
sang very sweetly do not sing now; but
hope by the grace Of God We will, after
awhile, go up and sing the praises OF
Christ where we will never be weary.
You know there are some songs that are
especially appropriate for { he home cir
Gle. 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 belI VIII Itch, long after
the tap OF the bgazan tongue has ceased
keeps throbbing on the air. Well, il WI
be a home song in Heaven; all the sweete
because those who sang with us in the do
nestle circle on earth shall join that grea
harmony;
Jerusalem, my happy home,
Name ever dear TO me-
when shall my labors have an end
In Joy and peace IN theei
On earth we sang harvest songs as tn
wheat came In TO the barn and the bar
racks were filed. You know there is n
such time on farm as when they get tn
crops in; ana so In Heaven it win be