Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1890-08-29

down w all street and up w all street. doW6
Third street and up Third street, downStata
street and UP State street, until the whole
land was torn 20 pieces as it never had been
before What followed the harrow? A
great awakening in which there were SOC, 600
souls brought into the kingdom of our Lord
No harrow, no crop.
Again remark, in grace as In the farm
there must be a reaping. Many Christians
speak Of religion as though it were
matter Of economies or insurance. They
expect to reap in the next world Oh, mol
Now is the time to reap. Gather up the
JOY OF the Christian religion this morning,
this afternoon, this night II you have not
as much grace as you would like TO have
thank God for what you have, and pray
for more. You are no worse enslaved than
Joseph, no worse troubled than was David,
no worse scourged than was Paul. Yet
amid the rafting OF letters, and amid
the gloom OF dungeons, and amid the
horror OF shipwreck, they triumphed in
the grace of God The weakest man
here has 500 acres of spiritual JOY all ripe.
been groaning over your inf1rmitbes for
thirty years Now give one round shout over
your emancipation. You say You have it so
hard; you might have it worse. You wonder
why this great cold trouble keeps revolving
through your soul, turning and turning, with
black hand on the crank. All, that trouble
Is the grindstone on which you are to sharpen
your sickle. To the f1eldsl Wake upl Take
OF your green spectacles, your blue specta-
cles. your black spectacles. Pull up the cor
ners of your mouth as far as you pull them
down. To the fields! Reap! reapI
Again remark, in grace as in farming
there is a time for threshing. I tell you
bluntly that is death. Just as farmer beats
the wheat out Of the straw so death beats the
soul out of the body. Every sickness is a
stroke of the fail, and the sickbed is the
threshing floor What, say you, is death to
a good man only taking the wheat out of the
straw That is all. An aged man has fallen
asleep. Only yesterday you saw him in the
sunny porch playing with his grandchildren,
Calmly he received the message to leave this
world. He babe pleasant good-by to his old
friends. The telegraph carries the tidings,
and on swift rail trains the kindred come,
wanting once more to look on the face of
dear old grandfather. Brush back the gray
hairs from his brow; it willnever ache again.
Put him away in the slumber Of the tomb.
He will not be afraid Of that night Grand
father was never afraid Of anything. He
will rise in the morning of the resurrection.
Grandfather was always the first to rise.
His voice has already mingled in the doxol-
ogy Of heaven. Grandfather always did
sing in church. Anything CHASTITY in that?
No. The threshing of the wheat out of the
straw. That is all.
The Saviour folds lamb in His bosom.
The little child filled all the house with her
music, and her toys are scattered all up and
down the stairs just as she left them. What
if the hand that plucked four o'clocks out of
the meadow is still? It will wave the eternal
triumph. What if the voice that made mu-
sic in the home is still? 1t will sing the
eternal hosanna. Put a white rose in one
hand and red ross In the other hand, and
a wreath Of orange blossoms on the brow;
the white flower for the victory, the red
flower for the Saviour's sacrifice, the orange
blossoms for her marriage day. Anything
CHASTITY about that? Oh, no. The sun went
down and the flower shut The wheat
threshed out of the straw. "Dear Lord,
give me Sleep" said dying boy, the son of
Sleep" And he closed his eyes and awoke in
glory Henry W. Longfellow, writing a let
ter of coincidence to those parents, said:
Those last words were beautifully poetic:
Dear Lord, give me Sleep"
Twas not in cruelty, not in wrath
That the reaper came that day;
Twas an angel that visited the earth
And took the flower away.
So it may be with us when our work is all
done. "Dear Lord, give me Sleep"
I have one more thought to present.
nave spoken OF the blowing, OF the sowing,
of the narrowing, of the reaping Of the
threshing. must now speak moment of
the garnering.
Where is the garner? Need tell you? Oh,
40. SO many have gone out from your own
clrcles-yea, from your own famil y-that
you have had your eyes on that garner for
many year. What hard time some of
sweat great drops Of blood. They took the
cup or trembling ana they put IL to their
hot lips and they cried: "If it be possible,
let this cup pass from me-" With tongues
of burning agony they cried: 20 Lord, de-
liver my soul" But they got over it. They
all got over it. Garnered! Their tears wiped
away; their battles all ended-their bur
dens lifted. Garnered! The Lord of the
harvest will not allow those sheaves to
! perish In the equinox. darnered! some
| of us remember, on the farm that the
sheaves were put ON the top Of the rack
which surmounted the wagon, and these
sheaves were piled higher and higher and
barn; and these sheaves Swayed to and fro
in the wind, and the old wagon creaked
and the horses made a struggle and pulled
SO hard the harness came up in loops OF
leather on their backs, and when the front
wheel struck the elevated floor of the barn
it seemed as if the load would go no farther
until the workmen gave a great shout and
then with one last tremendous strain the
horses pulled in the load; then they were IN
harnessed and forkful after forkful Of grain
fell into the NOV. Oh, my friends. our get
ting into heaven may be pull, hard pull,
a very hard pull; but these sheaves are
bound to go in. The Lord of the harvest
has promised it. I see the load at last COM
ing in the door Of the heavenly garner. The
sheaves of the Christian soul sway to and frc
in the wind of death, and the old body creaks
under the load, and as the load strikes the
floor Of the celestial garner it seems as ii it
can go no farther. 1t is the last struggle,
until the voices of angels and the voices OF
our departed kindred and the welcoming
into eternal triumph, while all up and down
the sky the cry is heard: Harvest home!
Harvest homer