The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1889-10-31

| 20. my God. he S'llu W hiihoIi' =.
must help that man though can
walk.
So he rolled over and rolled through
his own blood and 70: led on over many
of the slain, until he came where THIS
Door fellow was suffering and he
nrcachcd 10 him the comfort OF the Cos
vel and with his own wound he seemed
Ia socthe that mans wound. 1t was
sympathy going out toward an oDlccS
most ncceSSi.ous and ono thai he couiu
easily understand. And so 1t u win
Christ. though wounded all over Him
self. lie hears the CRY of our repentance.
the crv of our bereavement, the cry OF
our poverty. the CRY of our wrctched-
ness, and lie saws: Il must 60 and help
that soul" and He rolls over with
wounds in head, wounds in hands,
wounds in feet, toward us, until lie
comes lust where we arc wcltcrlng IN
our own blood and He puts His arms
over us-and | see it is =. wounded arm
and it is a wounded hand, and as lie
throws His arm over uS--l hear him
say: II have loved thee with aneverlast-
ing love-
Again, we must look to Christ as our
final rescue. We can not with these
eyes. however good our sight may be,
catch a glimpse of the heavenly land
for which our souls long. But l have
no more doubt that beyond the cold
vivcr there is place of glory and of
rest. than we have that across the At
lantic ocean there is another continent.
But the heavenly land and this land
stand in mighty contrast. This IS bar
renness and that verdurc. These shal-
low streams of earth which thirsty OK
might drink dry. or a mules hool tram
pie into mire, compared with the brlgft
crystalline river under the throne, on
the banks of which river the armies OF
Heaven may rest. and into whose clear
flood the trees Of life dip their branches.
These instruments of earthly music.
so easily racked into discord. compared
with the harps that thrill with eternal
raptures. and the trumpetS That are so
musical that they wake the dead. These
streets along which we go painting IN
summer heat or shivcring i'll winters
cold. and the poor man carries his burden
and the vagrant asks for aims, and along
which shuttle the feet of pain and want
and woe, compared with those streets
that sound forever with the feet Of Joy
and holiness. and those walls made out
of all manner Of precious stones, the
light intershot with reflections from jas
per and chrysolitc and topaz and sar-
donyx and beryl and emerald and chry-
soprasus.
D. the contrast between this world,
where we struggle with temptation that
will not be conquered. and that world
where il is perfect joy. perfect holiness
and perfect rest. Said little blind
child: Mamma, will l be blind in
Ileaven?" 20, no, my dear, replied
the mother, you won't be blind in
Heaven" 4 little lame child said:
Mamma, will be lame in lieaven?'
"No." she replied, ''you won't be lame
in Heaven" Why, when the plalnest
Christian pilgrim arrives at the heavenly
gate it opensto him. aid as the angels
come down to escort him, and they spread
the banquet, and they keep festival over
the august arrival, and Jesus comes with
acrown and says, "Wear this, and with
palm and says, "Wave this. and points
to throne and says, 'Mount this. "
Then the old citizens of Heaven come
around to hear the newcomers recital OF
deliverance wrought for him, and as the
newly arrived soul tells of the grace
that pardoned and the mercy that saved
him. all the inhabitants shout the praise
OF the King, crying, Praise Him! Prai e
Him.
Quaint John Brnyan caught glimpse
of that consummation when he said:
"Just as the gates were opened to let III
the man, looked in after them, and be-
hold the city shone like the sun: the
streets were also paved with gold and in
them walked many men with crowns on
their heads, and golden harps to sing
praises withal. And after that they shut
up the gates, which when had seen !
wished myself among them"