The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1890-09-25

riches that neter fly away, upon health
that never sickens, upon scepters that
never break, upon expectations that are
never disappointed. Look in and see if
there are not enough crowns to pay us
for all our battles, enough rest to re.
lieve all our fatigues, enough living
fountains to quench all our thirst.
enough glory to dash out forever and
ever all earth's signing and restlessness
and darkness. Battles ended, tears
wiped away, thorns plucked from the
bosoms, stabs healed, the tomb riven-
what scene to look upon.
Again: The door of Heaven stands
open for the Christians entrance.
Death to the righteous is not climbing
high walls or fording deep rivers, but il
is entering an open door. If you ever
visit the old homestead where you were
born, and while father and mother are
yet alive, as you go up the lane in front
of the farm house and you put your hand
on the door and lift the latch, do you
shudder with fear? No, .ou are glad to
enter. So your last sickness will be only
the lane in front of your Fathers house
from which you hear the voice of sing
ing before you reach the door. And
death, that is the lifting of the latch
before you enter the greetings and en-
braces of the innumerable family OF
the righteous. Nay, there is no latch,
for John says the door is already open.
What company of spirits have already
entered those portals, bright and shin
ing Souls released from the earthly
prison house, how they shouted as they
went through! Spirits that sped up from
the flames of martyrdom, making HeaV-
en- richer as they went in, po' ing their
notes into the celestial harmony.
And that door has not begun to shut
If redeemed by grace, we all shall enter
it. This side of it we have wept, but on
the other side of it we shall never weep.
On this side We may have grown sick
with WEAKNESS, but on the other side of
it we shall be without fatigue. On this
side we bleed with the warriors wounds,
on the other side we shall wave the
victors palm. When you think Of dying
what makes your brow contract, what
makes you breathe so deep and sigh?
What makes you gloomy in passing q
graveyard? Follower of Christ, you
have been thinking that death is some
thing terrible, the measuring of lances
with powerful antagonist, the closing
in of conflict which may be your ever
lasting defeat You do not want much
to think of dying. The step beyond
this life seems so mysterious you dread
the taking of it. Why, who taught
you this lesson of horrors ? Heavens
door is wide open, and you step out of
your sick-room into those portals.
Not as long as minute will
elapse between your departure and
your arrival there. Not half SO
long as the twinkling of an
eye. Not the millionth part of an in
slant. There is no stumbling into dark
ness. There is no plunging down into
mysterious depths. The door is open.
This instant you are here, the next you
are there. When vessel struck the
rocks of the French coast, while the
crew were clambering up the beach, a
cage of birds in the ships cabin, awak-
ened, began to sing most sweetly, and
when the last man left the vessel they
were singing yet. Even so in the last
hour of our dissolution, when driven on
the coast of the other world may our
Decentralization from this rough, tossing
life be amid the eternal singing of a
thousand promises of deliverance and
victory
For all repenting and believing souls
the door of Heaven is now wide open,
the door of mercy, the door of comfort
for the poorest as we'll as the worthiest,
for the outlaw as well as for the moral
ist, for Chinese coolie as we'll as his
Emperor, for the Russian boor as
well as the Gar, for the Turk as well
as the Sultan. Richer than all wealth,
moro refreshing than all fountains,
deeper than all depths, higher than all
heights, and broader than all breadth
is the salvation of Jesus Christ which !
press upon your consideration. Come
all ye travellers of the desert under
these palm-tr s. Oh, if could gather
before you that tremendous future upon
AASA JOu cRAO AhflbCu W 6A66E-uOA
minions and principalities, day with.
out night, martyrs under the throne
and the four and twenty elders falling
before it, stretching off in great dis
tances, the hundred and forty and four
thousand, and thousands of thousands
host beside host, rank beyond rank, in
Infinite distance, nations of the saved
beyond nations of the saved, until
angelic visions cease to catch any thing
more than the faint outline of whole
empires yet outstretching beyond the
capacity of any vision save the eye Of
God Almighty. Then after I mad
finished the sketch, would like to ask
You if that place is not grand enough,
and high enough, and if any thing could
be added, any purity to the whiteness OF
the robes, any power to the acclaiming
thunders of its worship. And all that
may be yours.