The Russellville Democrat., 1889-01-31
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
Marching Homeward to Receive the
 Everlasting Reward.
The Conquest of salvation-Diyiding the spoils of Religious Triumph T The Ashes of Sorrow The Loved
 Ones in the Eternal Home.

subject of recent sermon at the Brook lyn Tabernacle Marching Homeward." His text was:
 Pursue, for thou shalt surely overtake them. and without fail recover al--I samuel xxx,
 Dr. Talmage said: There is intense ex- citement in the village of Ziklag. David and his men are bidding hood bye to their families, and are of for the wars. In that little village of Ziklag the defense- less obes will be safe until the warriors, flushed with victory, come home. But will .he defenseless ones be safes The soft arms of children are around the necks of the bronzed warriors until they shake themselves free and start, and haudkerchiefs and flags are waved and kisses thrown until the armed men vanish beyond the hills. David and his men soon get through with their campaign and start homewartk Every night on their way home, no sooner does the soldier put his head on the knap-sack than in the dream he hears the welcome of the wife and the shout of the child. Oh what long stories they will have to tell their fami- lies, of how they lodged the battle-axel and then will roll up their sleeves and show the half -healed wound. With glad, quick step they march on, David
 
 Now they come up to the last hill which overlooks Ziklag, and they expect in a moment to see the dwelling places of their loved ones. They look, and as they look their cheeks turn pale, and their lip quivers, and their hand involuntarily comes down on the hilt of the sword. "Where is Ziklag? Where are our homes?" they cry. Alasi the curling smoke above the ruins tells the tragedy. The Amalekites have come down and con stunned the village, and carried the moth CTS and the wives and the children of David and his men into captivity. The swarthy warriors stand for a few mo- ments transfxed with horror. Then their eyes glance to each other, and they burst into uncomfortable weeping, for when strong warrior weeps the grief is appal- ing. It seems as if the emotion might tear him to pieces. They ''wept until they had no more power to weep" But soon their sorrow turns into rage, and David, swinging his sword high in air, cries: Pursue, for thou shalt surely overtake them and without fail recover all." Now the march becomes a "double- quick" Two hundred of Dayid's men stop by the brook Besor, faint with fatigue and grief. They can not go a step farther. They are left there. But the other four hundred men under David, with a sort of panther step, march on in sorrow and in rage. They find by the side of the road half dead Egyptian, and they resuscitate him and compel him to tell the whole story. He says: "Yonder they went, the captors and the captives," pointing ill the direction. Forward, ye four hundred brave men of firei Very soon David and his enraged company come upon the Amalekitish host. Wonder they see their own wives and children and mothers, and under Amalekitish guard. Here are the officers of the Amalekitish army holding a banquet. The cups are full, the music is reused, the dance begins. The Amalekit- ish host cheer, and cheer, and cheer over their victory. But, without note of bugle or warning of trumpet, David and his four hundred men burst upon the scene sud- denly, as Robert Bruce hurled his Scotch men upon the revelers at Bannockburn. David and his men look up, and one glance at their loved ones in captivity and under Amalekitish guard throws them into very fury of determination, for you know how men will fight when they fight for their wives and children. Ah, there are lightnings in their eye, and every finger is a spear, and their voice is like the shout of the whirlwind. Amidst the upset tankards and the costly viands crushed under foot, the wounded Amele- kites lie (their blood mingled with their wine), shrieking for mercy. No sooner do David and his men win the victory than they throw their swords down into the dust--what do they want with swords now?-and the broken families come to- gether amidst 0 great shout of joy that makes the parting scene in Ziklag seem very insipid in the comparison. The rough old warrior has to use some per- suasion before he can get his child to come to him now after so long an ab- sence; but soon the little finger traces the familiar wrinkle across the scared face. And then the empty tankards are set up, and they are filled with the best wine from the hills, and David and his men, the husbands, the wives, the broth ers the sisters, drink to the overthrow of the Amelekites and to the rebuilding of Ziklag. So, o Lord, let Thine enemies perish!
 Now they are coming home, David and his men and their families-a long pro- cession. Men, women and children. loaded with jewels and robes and with all kinds of trophies that the Amalekites had gath cred up in years of conquest-eyery thing now in the hands of David and his men. When they come by the brook Besor, the place where staid the men sick and in competent to travel, the jewels and the robes and all kinds of treasures are di- vided among the sick as we'll as among the well. Surely, the lame and exhausted ought to have some of the treasures. Here is a robe for this pale-faced warrior. Here is a pillow for this dying man. Here is a handful of gold for the wasted trumpeter. I really think that these men who tainted by the brook Besor may have endured as much as those men who went into battle. Some mean fellows objected to the sick ones having any of the spells. The obiectors said: 'These men did not fight" David, with magnanimous heart, replies: ''As his part is that goeth down to the battle, so shall his part be that tar rieth by the stuff"
 This subject is practically suggestive to me. Thank God, in these times a man can go off on a journey, and be gone weeks and months, and come back and see his house untouched of incendiary, and have his family on the steps to greet him, if by telegram he has foretold the moment Of his coming. But there arc
  Amalekitish diseases, that sometimes come down upon one's home, making as devastating work as the day when Ziklag took fire. There are families in my con gregation whose homes have been broken up. No battering-ram smote in the door, no iconOolast crumbled the statues, no flames leaped amidst the curtains; but so far as all the joy and merriment that once belonged to that house are concerned, the home has departed. Armed diseases came down upon the quietness of the scene-scarlet levers, or pleurisies, or consumption, or undehned disorders came and seized upon some mem- bers of that family, and carried them amay. Ziklag in ashes And you go about, sometimes weeping and sometimes enraged, wanting to get back your loved ones as much as David and his