The Penn's Grove record., 1889-07-06

mother. motherl that little hand that
wanders over your face may yet be lifted
to hurl thunderbolts of war, or drop
benedictions. That little voice may
blaspheme God in the grog-shop, or
cry: forward" to the Lords hosts,
as they 90 out for their last victory.
My mind to-day leaps
York. One stroke of his pen brings a
ship out of Canton. Another stroke OF
his pen brings q ship into Madras. He
is mighty in all the money markets Of
the world. Who is he? He sits to-
day beside You in the Tabernacle. My
mind leaps thirty years forward from
this time, and I find myself in a relief
association. A great multitude of
Christian women have met together for
a generous purpose. There is one
woman in that crowd who seems to have
the confidence of all the others, and
they all look up to her for her counsel
and for her prayers. Who is she? To
day you will find her in the Sabbath
school, while the teacher tells her OF
hat Christ who clothed the naked, and
fed the hungry, and healed the sick.
My mind leaps forward thirty years
from now, and 1 find myself In an
African Jungle; and there isamissionary
of the cross addressing the natives, and
their dusky c~ountenances are irradiated
with the glad tidings of great Joy and
salvation. Who is he? Did you not
hear his voice in the first song of the
service.
Ny mind leaps forward thirty years
from now and I find myself looking
| through the scickets of a prison. L see
a face SCARED with every crime. His
chin on his open palm, his elbow OF his
knee-a picture Of despair. As l open
the wicket he starts, and I hear his
chain clank. The jail keeper tells me
that he has been in there now three
times. First for theft, then for arson,
now for murder. He steps upon the
trap door, the rope is fastened to his
neck, the plank falls, his body swings
into the air, his soul swings off into
| eternity. Who is he, and where is he?
To-day playing kite on the city com
mons. Mother, you are to-day hosting
a throne or forging a chain-you are
kindling a star or digging a dungeon.
A good many years ago a Christian
mother sat teaching lessons Of religion
to her child, and he drank in those
lessons. She never knew that Lanphier
would come forth and establish the
Fulton Street Prayer-M Meeting, and by
one meeting revolutionize the devo-
| lions of the whole earth, and thrill the
eternities with his Christian influence.
Lanphier said it was
HIS MOTHER BROUGHT HIM
to Jesus Christ. She never had an idea
that she was leading forth such des-
TIMES. But oh, when 1 see a mother
reckless of her influence, rafting on to-
ward destruction, garlanded for the
sacrifice with unseemly mirth and god
lessness, gaily tripping ondown to ruin,
taking her children in the same direc-
ton, l cannot help but say: ''There
they go, there they go-Hagar and
Ishmael!" Itell you there are soitder
deserts than Beer-sheba in many of the
domestic circles of this day. Dissipated
parents leading dissipated children.
Avaricious parents leading avaricious
| children. Prayerless parents leading
prayerless children. They go through
every street, up every dark alley, into
every cellar, along every highway.
Hagar and Ishmael! and while I pro-
nounce their names it seems like the
moaning of the death wind-Hagar and
Ishmael! t,.,s.l
I learn one more lesson from this
Oriental scene, and that is, that
EVERY WILDERNESS HAS A WELL
in it. Hagar and Ishmael gave up to
die. Hagar's heart sank within her as
she heard her child crying: "Water!
water! water!" "Ah,"" she says, ''my
darling, there is no water. This is a
desert" And then Gods angel said
from the cloud: s'What aileth thee,
Hagar?" And she looked up and saw
him pointing to a well of water, where
she filed the bottle for the lad. Blessed
be God that there is in every wilderness
a well, if you only know how to find it
-fountainsfo for althese thirsty souls to-
day. "On that last day, on that great
day Of the feast, Jesus stood and cried:
If any man thirst, let him come to Me
aud drink. "All these other fountainsy you
find are mere mirages of the desert.
Paracelsus, you know, spent his time in
trying TO find out the elixir of life-a
liquid which, if taken, would keep one
perpetually young in this world, and
would change the aged back again to
youth. OF course he was disappointed
he found not the elixir. But here l |
tell you to-day of the elixir of e~verlast- |
ing life bursting from the Crock of
Ages" and that drinking that water you
will never get old, and you will never
be sick, and You will never die. s'Ho,
every one that thirsteth, come We to the |
waters" All, here is a mar who says:
II have been looking for that fountain
q great while, but can't find it." And
here is some n else who says: 81 be-
lieve all you say, but 1 have been
trudging along in the wilderness, and
CAN'T FIND THE FOUNTAIN.
Do you know the reason? I will tell
you. You never looked in the right
direction. ''Oh," you say, 81 have
looked everywhere. I have looked
north, south, east, and west, and 1
haven't found the fountain" Why, you
are not looking in the right direction at
all. Look up, where Hagar looked.
She never would have found the foun-
tain at all, but when she heard the
voice of the angel she looked up, and
she saw the finger pointing to the sup
ply. And, oh soul, if to-day, with N
earnest, intense, prayer You would only
look up to Christ, He would point you
down to the supply in the wilderness
Look unto me, all We ends of the earth,
and be ye saved; for / am God, and
there is none else" Look! look! as
Hagar did.
Yes, there is a well for every desert !
of bereavement. Looking over the
audience to-day, l notice signs of
mourning. Have you found consola- q,
ton? Oh man bereft, oh woman bereft,
have you found consolation? Hearse
after hearse. We step from one grave
hillock to another grave hillock. We
follow corpses, ourselves soon to be like
them. The world is in mourning for its
dead. Every heart has become the sep
ulchre of some buried joy. But sing
ye to God, every wilderness has a well
in it; and | come to that well to-day,
and begin to draw water from that
well. If you have lived in the country,
you have sometimes taken hold of the
rope of the old wellsweep, and you
know how tha hneEat aaroa nv Jr,p,tpu