The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1888-03-09

Jesus, VINO $1,000 Dy buem Wneu ali eise Lhtleos
Jesus, In whose name their marriage was
consecrated, and whose resurrection hes
poured light upon the graves of their de-
parted Blessed the Bible In which spec
tacled old age reads the promise: ~ win
never leave you, never forsake your Blessed
the staff on which the worn out pilgrim tot
tiers ON toward the welcome Of his redeemeri
Blessed the hymn book in which the falter-
ing tongue and the failing eyes find Jesus,
the old mans song.
speak to you again Of Jesus as the night
song. Job speaks Of him who giveth songs
In the night. John WEIGH, the old Scotch
minister, used to put a plaid across his bed
on cold nights, and some one asked him why
he put that there he said: s'oh, some
times In the night want TO sing the praise
Of Jesus, and to get down and pray; then
just take that plaid and wrap it around me
to keep myself from the cold.n Songs In the
night Night Of trouble has come down
upon many of you. Commercial losses put
out one star, sianderous abuse puts out an
other star, domestic bereavment 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 Dor
row the fold from another midnight to wrap
Christ has spoken peace to your heart, and
you can sing:
Jesus, lover Of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the pillows near me roll,
While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, oh, my Saviour hide
Till the storm of life Is past,
Safe into the haven 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 anodyne, or utter one cheerful
word-yet songs m 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 cannot any longer be
patched, and tremble because rent day is
come and they may be set out on the side
walk, and looking into the starved face of
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 upr'
Yet songs in the night! Songs in the
night For the widow who goes to get the
back pay of her husband, slain by the ''sharp
shooters" and knows it 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 lustefless eye, and refusing all re-
lief Yet songs in the night Songs in the
night For the soldier in the field hospital,
no surgeon to bind up the gun shot fracture,
no water for the hot lips, no kind hand to
brush away the flies from the fresh wound,
no one to take the loving farewell, the groan-
ing of others poured into his own groan, the
blasphemy of others blowing up his own
spirit, the condensed bitterness of dying
away from home among strangers. Yet
songs in the night Songs in the night
"Ah!" said one dying soldier, 'tell my
pother 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. Ministers of the
gospel are now preaching in plain English,
in broad Scotch, in flowing Italian, in harsh
Choctaw. Gods people have assembled in
Hindoo temple, and Moravian church, and
Quaker meeting house, and sailors bethel,
and kings chapel, and high lowered cathe-
draL They sang, and the song foated off
amidst the spice groves, or struck the ice
bergs, or fioated 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 as
semblages. Trappers, with the same voice
with which they shouted yesterday in
the stag hunt, and mariners with threats
that only few days ago sounded in the
hoarse blast of the sea hurricane, they sang
it. One theme for the sermons One burden
for the song. Jesus for the invocation
Jesus for the Scripture lesson. Jesus for the
baptismal font. Jesus for the sacramental
cup. Jesus for the benediction. But the day
will go 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
sermon, two prayers, three songs, and one
benediction. What shall we preach tonight
What shall we read? What shall it be, chill
dreni Aged men and women, what shall it
bel Young men and maidens, what shall it
be2 If you dared to break the silence of this
auditory there would come up thousands of
quick and jubilant voices crying out, "Let it
be JesusI Jesusl"
We sing his birth-the barn that sheltered
him, the mother that nursed him, the cattle
that fed beside him, the angels that woke up
the shepherds, shaking light over the mid
night hills. We sing his ministry-the tears
he wiped away from the eyes Of the orphans;
the lame men that forgot their crutches; the
damsel who from the bier bounded out into
the sunlight, her locks shaking down over
the flushed cheek; the hungry thousand who
broke the bread as it blossomed into larger
loaves-that miracle by which a boy with
five loaves and two fishes became the sutler
for a whole army. We sing his sorrows-his
stone bruised feet, his aching Hheart, his
mountain loneliness, his desert hunger, his
storm pelted body, the eternity of anguish
that shot through his last moments, and the
Unreasonable ocean of torment that heaved
up against his cross in one foaming, wrath
full, omnipotent surge, the sun dashed out,
and the dead, shroud wrapped, breaking open
their sepulchers, and rushing out to see what
was the matter. We sing his resurrection
the guard that could not keep him; the SCR
row Of his disciples; the clouds piling up on
either side in pillared splendors as he went
through, treading the painless air, higher
and higher, until he came to the foot of the
throne, and all heaven kept jubilee at the
return of the conquerer.
/ say once more, Christ is the everlasting
song. The very best singers sometimes 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 while, 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 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 cathe-
dral 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 ever 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 barracks
were filed. You know there is no such time
on farm as when they get the crops in; and
so in hi ven it win be 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
ini Angels shout all through the heavens,
and multitudes come down the hills crying;
Harvest homel harvest homel"
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 sailors song.
They were 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