The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1888-03-06
come of his redeemer! Blessed the byfnr,

the night. John WEIGH, the old Scotch min
lister, used to put plaid across his bed on cold
nights, and some one asked him why he put
that there. He said, ooh, sometimes In the
night want to sing the praise of Je,ps, and
to get down and pray then just take that
plaid and wrap it around me- to keep 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 put out another star, domestic bereave-
ment has put out a 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 mid
night to wrap itself in more unbearable dark
ness; but Christ has spoken Beac6 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 Sio me- ne, oh, my Saviour? hide
Til the storm of lite Is past
Safe into the haven guide
Oh, receive my soul nj last"
Songs In the night! Songs 10 the night For
the sick, who have no one to turn the hot pill
low, no one to put the taper on the stand, no
one to put Ice on the temple, OR pouy out the
soothing anodyne, or utter one cheerful word
yet songs in the night! For the poor, who
freeze in the winters cold, and swefter In the
sun summers ,S heat, and MUNICH the hard crusts
that bleed the sore gums, and SILVER under
blankets that cannot 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, ooh, my Godl -four has gone
up! 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 n comfortable home in
desolation, death turning back from the ex-
haustng cough, and tho pale cheek, and the
lustreless eye, and refusing all relief: Yet
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 tho flies
from the fresh wound, no one to take the low
ing farewell, the groaning of others poured
into his own groan, the blasphemy of others
blowing up his own spirit, the condensed Bit
terneSs of dying away from home among
strangers, Yet songs in the night! Songs In
the nightl "Ah," said one dying 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 al
tars OF ten thousand churches has smoked up
the SAVIOR of sacrifice. Ministers of the Cos
pei are now preaching III 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 floated off into the western pines or
was drowned in the clamor of the great
cities Lumbermen sang 1t, and the factory
girls, and the children in the Sabbath class,
and the trained ohoirs in great assem-.
blages. Trappers with the same voice
with which they shouted yesterday in
the tag-hunt, and mariners with Threats that
only few days ago sounded in the hoarse blast
M hmm fltNxr n..n A.
for the sermons. One burden for the song.
Jesus for the invocation. Jesus for the Scrip
ture lesson. Jesus for the baptismal fount.
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 moro sermon, two prayers, three
songs, and one benediction. What shall we
preach tonight? What shall we read9 What
shall it be, children? Aged men and women,
what shall 1t be? Young men and maidens,
what shall 1t be? If you dared to break tho
silence of this auditory, there would come up
thousands of quick and jubiant voices, crying
out, LET 1t DO Jesusl Jesus''
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 her bier bounded out into
the sunlight, her locks shaking down over the
flushed cheek; the hungry thousand who
broke the bread as 1t blossomed into larger
loaves-that miracle by which boy with five
loaves and two fishes became the sutler for
whole army We sing His sorrows-H His
feet, His aching heart His
mountain loneliness, His desert hunger, His
storm-pelted body, the eternity of anguish that
shot through His last moments, and the inn
ocean of torment that heaved up
against His cross in one foaming, wrathfui,
omnipotent surge, the sun dashed out,
and the dead, shroud-wrapped, breaking
what was the matter. We sing his resurrec-
tion-the guard that could not keep him the
sorrow OF his disciples; the clouds piling up on
either side in pillared splendors as He went
through, tIeading the painless air, higher and
higher, until he came to the foot OF the throne,
md all heaven kept jubilee at the return of
Jhe conqueror.
say once more, Christ Is tho everlasting
song. The very best singers sometimes get |
tired; the strongest Threats sometimes get |
weary, ana many who sang very sweetly do
not sing now: but hope by the grace Of God |
we Will, after while, 60 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 Oh itself, and keep sounding
after the tune has stopped like some cathe-
dral bell which, long after tho tap OF the braz-
en- tongue has ceased, keeps throbbing the
air, Well, it will be home song in heaven;
all!the swceter because those who sang with us
In the domestic circle on earth shall Join that
great harmony.
"Jerusalem, my happy home,
Name ever dear 10 me;
When shall my labors have IN end
In JOY and peace In thee?"