Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1890-09-13


this world, gather up your souls for
one appreciative look upon riches that
never fly away, upon health that never
slckens, 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
relieve all our fatigues, enough living
fountains to quench all our thirst,
enough glory to dash out for ever 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!
WE MAY ENTER HEAVEN THROUGH 1T.
Again, the door of heaven stands
open for the Christians final entrance.
Death to the righteous is not climbing
high walls or foSling deep rivers, but it
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 put your hand
on the door and lift the latch, do you
shudder with fear2 No, you 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 singing before you reach the door.
And death, that is the lifting of the
latch before you enter the greetings and
embraces 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
heaven richer as they went in, pouring
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 war
rior's wounds, on the other side we
shall have the victOr's 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 a grave yard? Fol
lower of Christ, you have been think
ing that death is something terrible,
the measuring of lances with power
full antagonist, the closing in of con
f1ict which may be your everlasting de-
feat. You do not want much to think
of dying The step beyond this life
seems so mysterious you dread the tax
ing of it, Why, who taught you this
lesson of horrors2 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 ar
rival there. Not half so long as the
twinkling of an eye. Not the millionth
part of an instant. There is no STUN
bling into darkness. There is no plung-
ing down into mysterious depths. The
door is open. This instant YOU are
nere, tlIe next you are Unere Wnen a
vessel struck the rocks of the French
coast while the crew were clambering
up the beach a cage of birds in the
ships cabin, awakened, began to sing
most sweetly, and when the last man
left the vessel they were singing vet.
Even so in the last hour of our dissolu-
ton, 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 prom
ises of deliverance and victory!
NO BELIEVING ONE WILL BE TURNED
AWAY
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 wealth
lest, for the outlaw as well as for the
moralist, for Chinese coolie as well as
his emperor, for the Russian boor as
well as the car, for the Turk as well
as the sultan Richer than all wealth,
more refreshing than all fountains,
deeper than all depths, higher than all
heights and broader than all breadths
is the salvation of Jesus Christ which
| press upon your consideration. Come,
all we travellers of the desert, under
these palm trees. Oh, if could gather
before you that tremendous future upon
which you are invited to enter -domin-
ions and principalities, day without
night, martyrs under the throne. and
the four twenty elders falling before
it, stretching off in great distances
the hundred and forty and four thou
sand, and thousands of thousands,
host beside host, rank beyond rank, in
Infinite distance; nations of the saved
beyond nations of the saved, until an
gelic visions cease to catch ANYTHING
more than the faint outline of whole
empires yet outstretching beyond the
capacity of any vision save the eye of
God Almighty. Then, after had fin
ished the sketch, would like to ask
you if that place is not grand enough
and high enough and if anything could
be added, any purity to the whiteness
of the robes, any power to the ac-
claiming thunders of its worship. And
all that may be yours.
Ilmakiur, the Barometer Stone.